It seems as though Challenge season is upon us. I say that not as a bad thing, merely as an observation. Matty’s been doing some great Transmog challenges, we’ve got Mog Madness going on as we speak (Deadline to Enter the first round is Friday!), and Big Bear Butt presented a challenge for bloggers but asked us to refrain from posting until today. Here was that challenge:
Write a short story. I don’t care how short, or what kind of story, or even what form your story takes. BUT…your story, poem, dirty limerick or whatever you choose to do must incorporate within it in some way the following words: Juicy, Slender, Vain, Shaft, Torch, Hidden, Star
A writing challenge? Have at thee!
“Are you truly that vain?”
God I hated his voice. It was like a shard of glass across my slender wrist. Given everything else the bastard had put me through, though, his voice was almost pleasant at that point.
“Did you honestly believe every one of my spies could be found? There are some who work for me for a reason and that is because they are adept at staying hidden. Even the scrying eyes of the Kirin Tor can’t locate all my loyal…ahem…allies.”
I still don’t understand why he dragged the process out. Perhaps final humiliation? Maybe it’s because he really didn’t know what he wanted to do with me.
“I should torch this whole village just to make your suffer. A simple alchemy recipe comes to mind that would engulf everything but you and you would see everything around you go up in flames. That would be quite nice, but so would feeding you to Festus here. Look at the way he salivates at the mere thought of dining on your juicy bones. He knows the succulence your meat would bring.”
I look over at my star knife. The weapon he made sure was the first thing taken upon my capture. There is no point even trying for it now, even if it would be to slit my own throat in the moment and deprive him the pleasure.
“No, I think instead I’ll merely peel your flesh from your body. Oh don’t worry, you’ll feel it all.”
He was right. When the scalpel slipped into my forearm I remember the burning sensation. But now I bleed upon this table, and I feel everything as the sands in my hourglass are all but gone…my life, my friends, my children, all fading from view.
What was that?
That was an arrow. And another. That one caught him, and I recognize the shaft. It is Marcus. I knew he would rescue me. Pity he arrived too late…