WRiTE CLUB 2020 - Cage Bout #1

Reminder - You can follow along with all of the bout results right HERE.

It was extremely tight, but last week the voters chose to SAVE these three contestants -

Annie Corvino

Wink N.A. Smile

Peace and Quiet

We've now narrowed our contestant pool down to 18 (fifteen 1st round winners + the three that were SAVED above).  That means - it's CAGE BOUT time!

Here's how this works. Instead of two writers competing against one another, now it's THREE AT ONCE. But there's a twist. All of the winners have been given the opportunity to absorb the feedback offered during their preliminary round and submit an edited version of their original submission. As a writer, utilizing feedback can be a tricky proposition - because frankly - not all feedback is equal. This is our chance to see how the contestants used that feedback (if at all).

The readers/voters are to choose one of the three to move on.  There will be six daily bouts (Mon-Sat), and no saves this time.

Remember, one of the real values of this contest is FEEDBACK. So, please be respectful with your remarks!

Even though there will be a different bout every day (M-S), because of time restrictions the voting period will be staggered somewhat, so please pay attention to the dates posted. The voting for today’s bout will close on Sunday, June 7th (noon central time).

The piece that garnishes the most votes will move on to the next round where they’ll face a different opponent with a BRAND NEW WRITING SAMPLE. 

As always, in case of a tie, I’m the deciding vote.

Here are the voting guidelines –

1) One vote per visitor per bout.

2) Anyone can vote (even the contestants themselves), but although our contestants are anonymous, voters cannot be. Anonymous votes will not count, so if you do not have a Google account and are voting as a guest, be sure to include your name and email address.

3) Using any method (email, social media, text, etc) to solicit votes for a specific contestant will cause that contestant's immediate disqualification. It’s perfectly okay, in fact, it is encouraged to spread the word about the contest to get more people to vote, just not for a specific writer!

4) Although more of a suggestion than a rule - cast your vote before you read other comments. Do not let yourself be swayed by the opinions of others.

Here our the contestants for this first cage bout (in random order) are -

MySquishy

I’d nodded off in the armchair again. Nina stood in front of me, little hands clutching my knees, a stuffed bear tucked tight under her arm. The embers in the fireplace sighed their last breaths.

Gently, I set aside the book that had fallen over in my lap and brushed a dark curl out of my daughter’s face. “Another nightmare?”

Her eyes were bright and wild. “The one about the tall man dressed all in red. He wanted me to follow him into the forest, Momma.”

Her terror made me ache. “You know what to do, love.”

Nina nodded and opened the drawer of the end table, pulling out paper and crayons. I dropped to my knees and stoked the fire, urging the embers to rise. This had been our tradition since Nina started having the nightmares. No matter how late, she would wake me and together we would banish her fears.

The red crayon in Nina’s hand was worn nearly down to the nub. Most of the other colors in the box were untouched. Her long hair fell over her work in fierce concentration, the firelight casting harsh shadows on her young face. I watched her, mouthing silent supplications. Give her peace… leave us be…

My heart froze when a door creaked. “Nina?”

I quickly leaned sideways, blocking my husband’s view. “Don’t worry, Rick. I’ll handle this.”

He stared for a beat too long. “Okay,” he said at last.

When Rick left, I expelled the tiniest sigh of relief. He wouldn’t discover my secret. Not tonight.

Nina spent another few minutes on her drawing. She was a terrifyingly good little artist. The thick crayon had captured her nightmare’s angry eyes and empty, bottomless smile.

My nerves sizzled with energy, but I forced a smile. “Ready?”

She folded her small hand into mine. “Yes, Momma.”

We each held a corner of the picture and pushed it into the fire. Flames curled around the edges, singeing and crackling. Then they began to eat their way upward. Nina and I let go at the same time, a practiced dance that no longer needed words. Together, we watched the flames devour her nightmare, the red crayon melting until it became formless and unthreatening.

“Okay, Nina.” I hugged her close and kissed her forehead. “Bedtime.”

Nina released a huge, contented yawn. “Goodnight. I love you.” She ambled back to her room, where she’d no doubt sleep through the rest of the night.

I wouldn’t rest, though, not until I made sure the fire consumed every last bit of the drawing. It was the only way to keep him out. For a little while.

I’d never told my family about the man who’d years ago promised me a child, if I promised him an unknown favor in return. And I’d certainly never described the red suit or deep-set eyes or frigid smile that Nina kept drawing, night after night, as he appeared in her dreams and begged her to follow him.

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Contestant number two is A. Lynne Smithee

Nose for Trouble

Grandma used to tell me if you go looking for trouble you're sure to find it. The same goes with death. It's all around us, pervading each layer of soil with remnants of every plant and animal that ever lived in this forest. Their scents remain like ghosts, revenants that linger and throw the dogs off their mark.

"Got something, girl?" I ask Gracie.

A brown and white German shorthaired pointer, Gracie's been with me since she was two. Nothing can distract her when we're on the job. What separates her from other K-9s is we've never made a game out of it. Gracie seems to take it seriously, to dread that moment before she finds what she's looking for and gives the sign.

Gracie's brown eyes are too human for a dog. They peer at me through the curtain of rain sliding from the hood of my slicker. She wags her stub of a tail, then bounds over a small log and pushes deeper into the forest.

 This isn't the first time something has caught Gracie's interest. Maybe it's the constant downpour making it worse, the water seeping into everything and bringing the smell of decay to the surface.

I hope we get lucky, that we'll leave without finding her and all this will amount to is a day in the forest with my dog, but I know better. I've known since I first waved the tiny blanket under her nose.

Gracie darts forward and I almost lose sight of her. She's onto something. A cold breath of dread tickles my neck and sends a frisson through me as sure as if rainwater had gone down my shirt. I break into a run.

The brush is thicker up ahead. Gracie's upper body disappears into a clump of ferns at the base of a fallen pine. That stub-tail continues to flag back and forth like a prison searchlight.

Hope swells in me when she emerges from the plants. She looks back as if to tell me to keep up, then clambers uphill. The clouds overhead shift to let the sun wink down on us. Coruscating light turns the raindrops into tiny individual kaleidoscopes. I gape at the sight until I remember something else Grandma used to say: hope is your heart's way of denying what you already know.

At the top of a small mound, Gracie has gone still. The tail's patrol is finished, now locked skyward. The muscles in her shoulders bunch tight as coiled springs and her nose hovers an inch from a patch of tar-black earth.

"Good girl."

I give her the sign to stand down. The bubble of dread in me bursts and sorrow rushes in to fill the vacuum.

I make the call and sit on the stump. Gracie licks my face, then looks at me with those baleful caramel eyes that remind me of my grandmother. I scratch behind her ears and we wait together for the forensics team to arrive.

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And finally number three is WizardInc

“Press 1 to sell your soul. Press 2 to speak to an eternally suffering representative.” The
absurd choices were exactly why Walter refused to use a touchscreen phone when calling Hell.
One wrong move and he’d be one of the eternally suffering. He carefully pressed two. The 90s
Nokia screen went from green to crimson.

“How can we-”

The soul on the other end screamed so high that Walter winced away from the phone.

“Tempt you today?”

Walter referenced his carefully worded script. “I would like to unsubscribe from the
Apocalypse Disciple newsletter.”

The representative mewled like a sad puppy, before answering, “We of the abyss are
sorry to hear you are dissatisfied.”

A whip cracked on the other end, filling Walter’s ear with more suffering.

“As recompense, we are prepared to offer this soul for crucifixion.” The representative
stumbled over the last word, and Walter braced himself for the upsell. “If you upgrade to
Apocalypse Zealot-”

The thought of upgrading to more nightmare-inducing material snapped Walter’s
patience like a dry biscuit. “I have no interest in Hell or its subscriptions. Remove me from your
list or I’ll convert to Christianity.”

This was a bluff. Walter respected diligent churchgoers, but his religion was the library,
which had also led him to the damn book that started all this. Now apocalypse tips, tricks, and
hacks were showing up everywhere he looked.

“We have no wish for the Enemy to gain another follower, I am transferring you to my
supervisor.”

The smell of roses filled the room and a smoky voice came on the line. “Hello, my name
is Lucidina, Arch-demoness of retentions. How may I assist you?”

Walter adjusted his collar before answering,

“Yes, please unsubscribe me from Apocalypse Disciples.”

Lucidina’s chuckle was the hungry sort that made Walter feel like her next dish. “Oh, I
understand. I don’t want the apocalypse either. There are so many things to enjoy!”

Walter cleared his throat, “Quite right.”

Then she said in low conspiratorial tones.“There’s the next Royal Rogue book, after all.”

Walter had no better idea than to ask the obvious question. “You enjoy period dramas?”

The hint of fresh citrus tea wafted out of the Nokia, and Walter felt his cheeks heat.

“I adore them.” She made the word adore sound delicious. “The dashing rogue, the chaste
maiden, and love conquers all!”

Walter could not help getting caught up in her excitement. “The struggles are so
inspiring and romantic!"

“Amazon delivers, but unfortunately not to hell.” Lucidina’s disappointment wrapped
Walter’s empathy around her finger.

He glanced at his script, and ignored his carefully chosen words. “Would you like to
come to tea and read it with me?”

The scent of roses and tea vanished, and for a moment it seemed the phone had gone
dead. A breeze carrying both scents brushed the back of Walter’s neck.

“I would love to.” Lucidina’s smoky whisper caressed his ear, and Walter slowly turned
towards her voice

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Please leave your votes and critiques in the comments below. Again, be respectful of your remarks and try to point out positives as well as detraction's.

We’ll be back tomorrow with another cage bout. Please help all our writers out by telling everyone you know what is happening here and encourage them to come vote.

This is WRiTE CLUB—the contest where the audience gets clobbered!