Short Stories.

[fanficfan]

I actually wrote this for a fanfic challange on another website. But I'm quite proud of it so I'm posting it here too. Maybe I'll even steal the idea for the challenge of people seem interested. It's called "I'll trade you this picture for a 1000 words."
The person who started it puts up a new image every weak and you are supposed to write a short story to go with. (despite the title, it doesn't actually have to be a 1000 words) I'll include a link to the current pic and put my story under that. Enjoy.

img148.imageshack.us/img148/4201/death5im.gif

Click!
Click!
Click!
The shadow made no sound as it walked.
No. Glided.
Down the gentle slope. Only the steady clicking of it’s staff announced it’s presence. Slowly the man at the foot of the hill turned, terror creeping onto his face as he saw the deep, faceless cowl.
The weight of his deeds had been found wanting and now the Pocked Man had come to claim the balance.
Click
Click
Cli…
The shadow stopped mere feet from the cowering man. It’s free hand emerged from the long sleeves, covered in sores and boils. It reached up to pull back it’s hood.
“Who are you?”
The shadow paused, and turned to face the small child. A girl, perhaps 5 or 6 years old.
”WHO AM I?”
She stood her ground against the shadowy figure, an event the shadow couldn't recall ever happening.
”DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO I AM?”
“Of course not silly, if I knew that I wouldn’t have to ask you.”
”I AM THE POCKED MAN. I AM DEATH.”
“No you’re not.”
This statement seemed to shock the shadow. In the few seconds it needed to understand that this girl had not only stood up to him but had also defied him, she continued.
“That’s not who you are, it’s what you do. Like my Daddy is a bike fixer. What is your name?”
The shadow was stunned, no one had ever asked it for a name before. For the first time in all existence, Death was lost for words.
”I… DON’T… KNOW,” it slowly admitted.
“Well we can’t have that,” the little girl said adamantly, “Everyone should have a name, otherwise they can’t introduce themselves to people. And my daddy says that is very rude.” She paused for a moment, as if remembering something important, “I’m Kayleen by the way. Now we shall have to make a name for you so you can tell it to me.” She reached up to take his hand, totally unfazed by the sores and pocks covering it. “Come on, we’ll go and look at some of my books and see if we can find a name you like.”
Turning, they walked, or rather she walked and he glided, back to the house. The cowering man forgotten by the spectre of Death. The Pocked Man’s staff clicking all the way.

[Angoreth]

I liked the story.
Also the Idea, its a neat one I think.

So, the one who originally started the thread post's up a new picture every weak?

[erinion]

Yeah, I liked it too, except why not if another person wants to put up a pic, they say so before the week? Now I might have to think about writing something...

[fanficfan]

Well the person who started it (Ophelia on Theforce.net) puts up 5 pics every week and we can vote for which one we like.
I was going to ask her if she minded me copying her idea and stealing the pictures she's used already. That gives me a few months worth of pictures. It should be noted that the one Ophelia started is on a star wars site so the pics and stories are mostly star wars orientated.
Perhaps anyone who's interested PM me a link to a pic and I'll set up a voting page? Then I'll try to update the voting page and post a new pic every saturday.
Let me know what you think.

[erinion]

Staring up at the statue that was recently put on the Sydney Young Thespian's Theatre, Neil walked in and went over to the reception desk. There was nobody behind it, and this meant Neil was forced to ring the bell. No answer came, so he walked back out, and was about to turn left when the statue landed in front of him.

The stone started to crack, and Neil was frozen to the spot. As a shadowy figure emerged from the ruins, the 18 year old had the thought that running would be the worst thing to do.

"That's right," the statue said. "If you had run, I don't expect your head would still be on your neck. And yes, I can read your thoughts, so there is nothing you can hide from me. I am here to help you. For that is what you wished for, is it not? This morning when you woke up, did you or did you not ask God to help you?"

"I d-d-did. B-B-But you aren't G-G-God are you?" Neil stammered.

"I am Godfrey, and a servant of God. You wanted to join this theatre company, but not only for the acting. If you had your choice you would join NIDA, the best acting school in the country. But no, you wanted to join this one to capture the attention of Jessica.

"School is over, and you were fired, so you have no reason to be near here. Well I will give you a choice: come with me and you can be her guardian angel, yet she will never know until she dies, which if you choose this option will be many years, and she will be happy while she lives. However she may not remember you, or even believe what you say you did when you do meet in Heaven."

"And what is the second choice, Godfrey?" Neil asked.

"To remain on Earth, and chase after her. You may win her heart, you may not, and there will be no outside assistance. However, with this you have a chance of being with her, and may be with her forever, yet not be truly happy. I will know all your thoughts, and already I can see what you choose. You are a good person, and she will be sad that you are dead.

"Now, it is time. There must be a reason for your death, and I cannot remain here now you know what I am, for we are bound to help one person in each location. All you have to do is walk along the road, and stare straight ahead. Shut your eyes, for the light is bright, and once you feel lighter, open them. From then on her life is in your hands. However remember this: end her life when it is not her time, and you will never see her again."

Neil looked through the angel, and asked, "how will I know?"

"Everything will be explained to you, but just relax," Godfrey said as his statue repaired itself and re-attached itself to the roof.

Neil walked back several steps, and walked, accepting his death, and preparing for Jessica's life.

[erinion]

C'mon, it's the end of the month and we have no new picture. What's happening?

[fanficfan]

Sorry I took so long, I kinda forgot
Anyway, this weeks picimg47.imageshack.us/img47/8679/burningstructure3qk.gif Remember that it can be set anywhere and anywhen.
I'll try to get something written up for it soon.

[erinion]

The souls walked up the stairs into Hell's waiting room. There they were greeted by a demon with three heads and four eyes between them.

"Hello," he said. "How are we all? Warm I hope. If you're not, we may have to turn the heating up, for after all, what would be the point of living forever in eternal frost? A bit of exercise and you're fine again. Heat is much harder to cool down from.

"Now, who do we have here? Ex-Vikings, for killing, raping and pillaging, you will be given your own room, a metre by a metre for all 3 000 of you.

"Who else? Ah yes, liars. You get therapy three times a week, but seeing as we don't have days or weeks here, you get eternal therapy with Frasier Crane. After all, you're not allowed to enjoy yourself."

A man stood up, and asked, "excuse me, but I'm not sure why I'm here."

"Oh, well every now and then Beezlebub likes to choose someone to come visit randomly. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, you won't be with us for long."

"CUT! Well done people, take five," Peter Jackson yelled.

[Majimaune]

Nice one. I couldnt think of one for that picture. I did try believe me.