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Monthly Writing Challenge! [Closed til December] (Platinum Prizes Available!)

FiveHours

By FiveHours,
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FiveHours

FiveHours

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Week 2 of the writing contest has finished, and with it we have a winner!

This week's best submission came anticipated, given his/her absence from last week's contest. I'm talking, of course, of ROSING's entry. I feel this prize is particularly deserved, as the story combines elements of suspense, action and flips it all around at the end with a dramatic twist that echoes off as a cliffhanger. This is all done while keeping the theme in mind: animal instinct. While reading, I really got a feel for how the "animal" acted and the kind of bestial nature that it possesses, all while contrasting with the quote organised and logical thoughts of its operator, which accentuates the effect of the "animal" part even more. Well done, ROSING!

Oh, and kudos for writing about the scenery, too! Very real, and definitely helped with visualising the story.

As for this week's theme, as always, it will be posted in the OP.

 

“Dagger 4, approaching target. Prepare for hard contact.”

 

“Copy, Cloakroom,” Dagger 4 replied. The chirping of corpus Deras buzzed around him like a dozen angry birds.

 

Beside him, a Charger kept pace, superheated plasma bouncing harmlessly off its shell, Grineer armor strengthened by Technocyte and a few other modifications by the Veil.  It bowled into a group of MOAs, its growls howling down the corridor of the ship.

 

A tech barreled into the room, his Supra spooling up. Dagger 4 sent a powered bolt ripping through the Corpus’ shields and through his hand, the heavy gun clattering to the floor. In desperation, the tech deployed an Osprey above him to provide a last ditch protection. A shimmering blue film shot from the drone to cover the wounded Corpus.

 

“Nero, kill.” Dagger 4 whispered into his mic. He took aim and shot down the Osprey as the Charger lunged. Its malformed hands tore into the hapless enemy just after the last of the blue strands dissipated from his doomed body. It sunk its teeth into its victim, mashing limbs and chunks of flesh into pulp beneath its jaws and into its mouth.

 

The room was silent. Crumpled proxies and savaged corpses littered the floor. The crew aboard this ship was well trained, almost a match for a Hunter pair like Dagger 4. It would have been a breeze had a Tenno accompanied them for the mission, but that was out of the question. If this target fell into the clutches of the Lotus, his knowledge would be distributed to all allies of the Lotus, including the Arbiters. For the Veil, it was less risky to send in a Hunter pair into dubious odds rather than notifying the Lotus of such a high priority target.

 

Dagger 4 checked his map. The target was sealed inside the next room, the panels locked. He approached it and inspected the panel.

 

Beside him, Nero had its fill. It padded next to him, blood dripping from its mouth.

 

It often occurred to Dagger 4 that his own flesh could easily be beneath those jowls. Any other Infested would have pounced on him as soon as he was the only thing left to kill in a room. But the Veil had managed to harness this diseased flame, in the same way one would control a raging inferno. Not directly, but subtly. Devices lodged inside each unit’s brain would dull the hive mentality link, but not completely remove it. There was no real control, of course, only appeals to charger’s baser instincts. After all, past the hive, a charger was a simple animal.

 

A simple but smart animal, one that could be taught. It knew that if it followed Dagger 4 and other operatives, there would be food, but if the operatives themselves were to become the food, then there would only be a single meal, and nothing more. It followed where the kill was.

 

“Easy there, boy,” Dagger 4 murmured, beginning to hack the panel. “There’s plenty of food where we’re going.”

 

He keyed in the last sequence, and the door was unlocked. Just before it slid open, Dagger 4 dove behind Nero.

 

The doorway was light up by the blinding blue of Corpus Dera Rifles. Dagger 4 could feel the air around him increase several degrees in temperature as projectiles hurtled past. Nero’s armor, however, held, and the Hunter pair advanced.

 

Through the hail of plasma, Dagger 4 saw a lone figure running for the door.

 

Dagger 4 slapped the Charger’s back. “Nero, let’s go!” The two split apart as the operative found cover behind an open data panel next to the wall, firing his Ballistica in four-shot bursts, never missing. He focused his fire on the left side of the room, while Nero tore into the other flank of the Corpus ambush. As the operative picked off crewman one by one, the right side of the room became filled with blood and screams, human and inhuman.

 

Dagger 4 heard the familiar report of a Lanka rifle. Nero stumbled, a crack in his armor sizzling. The Red Veil operative took careful aim and fired, and a sniper tumbled from the gantry above.

 

A ticking plasma grenade latched onto the data panel before him. He dove from his cover seconds before the explosive went off, the shockwave jarring his skull. He stumbled, running towards a stack of crates in front of him, firing as fast as he could pull the trigger, but the waiting rifles of the left flank made him pay for every step he took towards shelter. In seconds his shields were gone and a plasma charge tore through his arm.

 

Yelling in pain, he made a desperate leap to the crates. He hit the ground, rolling before he slammed into the boxes. Pain shot through his body.

 

His head spun from the blast, and his arm was a mess. Fortunately, it hadn’t been his shooting hand, but firing a Ballistica accurately with only one hand was something only a Tenno could do. He popped the Ballistica from behind his cover and fired a few blind shots. He heard another Lanka. Two.

 

“Nero, cover!” he yelled, and he heard the growl of the beast through the din of the Corpus weapons, now filling the room as he realized there were too many to fight.

 

“Dagger 4, the target is getting away. You need to move, now.”

 

“Copy that, Cloakroom,” Dagger 4 groaned. “But we are combat ineffective here!”

 

“You know the stakes, Dagger 4. Complete the mission.”

 

Dagger 4 took a breath. “Understood,” he said. The crate he was leaning on was getting hotter as plasma sunk into it. It would not hold for long. He looked back down the hallway to see more Corpus coming up from behind them, techs and heavy MOAs in their midst. Staying was not an option. But advancing was not a good idea either.

 

There was no choice. He dragged himself to his feet, loading a fresh clip into his ballistica. “Nero,” he breathed. “On my go.” He couldn’t tell if it responded; the screeching of the lasers consumed all sound.

 

He closed his eyes. “Nero, kill!” He burst out of cover just as a ferocious roar swept the room, followed by a deafening crash.

It looked like the battlefield had been flipped upside down and frozen in time. Crewmen and MOAs littered the stale air, suspended, limbs held out loosely before them. The helmet of a crewman just before him had splintered open, revealing glazed eyes, a trickle of blood floating from his mouth.

 

In the center of the still chaos was a lone, hulking metal figure, a body slung around its shoulder, surrounded by a massive crater on the ground. So they found out anyway.

 

The Rhino Warframe brought a Soma pattern assault rifle to bear single-handed towards Dagger 4. The operative weakly began to raise his Ballistica, but not before the Tenno started to fire.

 

Bullets singed past him. He turned to see the forces coming behind them being ripped to shreds under the intense barrage. In seconds it was over.

 

Whatever suspension around the Tenno ended as well, and its vanquished foes dropped to the ground. The Tenno looked at Dagger 4 for a moment longer, then tossed the body on its shoulder to the ground. Dagger 4 recognized the scientist, mumbling in fear as the warrior-god stood over him. It raised an outstretched palm over him. The Red Veil operative had worked with enough Tenno to know what was to come next.

 

“No, no, please, I’ll give you anything!” The man yelled, but his pleas were reduced to screams of agony as he was broken down into molecules, stored into a device in the Warframe’s palm. The bright glow lit up the room as Dagger 4 watched the man’s flesh and bone deconstruct and dissolve into strands of matter. Finally, the light stopped, leaving only his screams echoing in the dead ship.

 

Dagger 4 heard a growl as Nero stepped forward, sizing up the Tenno. “Nero, stand down,” he rasped, but the charger kept advancing. It stood before the Tenno, its jowls a pounce away.

 

The Tenno knelt down and put a palm to its muzzle, and to Dagger 4’s surprise, the creature bowed to the affection, making a guttural purring sound.

 

The Rhino patted the charger, then rose, turning back to the Red Veil operative. It began walking towards him. If it meant to kill him, he was too weak to defend himself. He stood, shaking slightly, ballistica held loosely at his side, blood coursing down his other hand. He closed his eyes.

 

The footsteps grew louder, until the thunderous clank of metal on metal was right in front of him. Then, past him, growing quieter. Behind it, the padding of malformed feet, pausing only for a few seconds next to its old partner, before following after the Tenno’s fading footsteps.

 

It followed where the kill was.

Edited by FiveHours
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FiveHours

FiveHours

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Few questions, could I possibly write themes that have already been completed for the sole purpose of fun? Also, if it fits, could you make your own Simaris-ish lore segment?

I'm not sure what you mean. PM me the story, I'll see if it qualifies.

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CLERINERT

CLERINERT

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I'm not sure what you mean. PM me the story, I'll see if it qualifies.

I'm not trying to enter into this weeks contest since the only idea I have is slaughtering innocent Corpus. However, I might have an idea with Animal Instinct. It probably won't qualify for the contest, but I want to do it for fun. Lol. Is that better?

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FiveHours

FiveHours

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I'm not trying to enter into this weeks contest since the only idea I have is slaughtering innocent Corpus. However, I might have an idea with Animal Instinct. It probably won't qualify for the contest, but I want to do it for fun. Lol. Is that better?

Go on, that's what I want people to have the most: fun!

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FiveHours

FiveHours

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Week 3 is now over for the contest, and the winning entry comes from Inquisitus, in his/her (?) short stream of consciousness in what I assume is the head of a Corpus cirminal. Salad, anyone?

 

 

I wake to light.

 

The light pierces through my withered eyelids and burns my dry eyelids. I blink a few times to moisten them, then look at where the light touches. There is darkness all around me, and the light only reveals so much, barely the width of two hairs. I can at least see that I am disrobed, bare, in this... I don't quite know where I am. Feeling sinks back through my arms and floods my fingertips, and I finally move them to 

 

They bang onto two walls that press close to me. I have about a mtere to move, either side. They remain there, and I feel the cool of metal. I am laid down, the back of my head resting on some hard surface that I can't turn round to reach.

 

Am I in a box of some sort? Memories leak back in from a small spigot in the back of my head, dripping oh so slowly. Why can't I remember?

 

I feel myself being moved - well, the box - and a low rumbling rattles from under me. A machine, an engine... it can't be Grineer. Too soft. It has a remarkable sound, like peppercorns in a grinder...

 

Wait, yes, peppercorns! My tongue still stings from its sharp taste. They gave me steak, quite recently, but I hadn't had steak before. I wanted to try it for my last meal. My last?

 

Ah, it's all coming together now. My last meal. The box. I remember its wretched purpose.

 

Crimes against science and "humanity". My experiments were apparently too unethical for them, to take apart the technology of our enemies and to reassemble it into something close to divine. Gold from dust. I truly hate the Board, they meddle too much. Never did I want to be in their council, anyway. I was destined for far greater things. The rumbling grwos louder, and the box warms under my fingertips. I feel small slits open up under me. Frohd Bek can rot in his grave, for all I care.

 

But, now that I say that, I don't think that he will be going anywhere anytime soon. I, however... A summary execution, they ordered, with no traces. Incineration, quick and easy. I would do the same. Cost-efficient. The Corpus love that word.

 

It humors me, the terrible irony of death, how I have spent nearly all my life with that box on my head, yet I am also to die in one. 

 

I feel the flames grow hotter under me. The pungent smell of gas fills my nostrils and I breath it in. My head lightens as the heat increases, and increases.

 

My final thoughts are a jumble, but fear is starkly absent from all of them. I am not afraid of the flames that are tantalisingly close, nor do I fear the pain that is to come.

 

I close my eyes.

 

What I fear is that the flames will still burn when I wake up.

 

 

What I liked about this piece was that incredibly calm attitude that the criminal had. Collected, as if he was to almost embrace death. Final thoughts are always something interesting to read.

 

However, I do think the story was a bit short on the xposition and darted from topic to topic too much. THere wasn't a real tangible train of thought. Apart from that, bueno. Well done, Inquisitus! PM me for your prize.

 

The theme for this week will be put up in the OP. I'm undecided on this week's theme, so I've put a choice between two. What I'm looking for this week is something that will really "wow" me, to get my pulse going. Something to excite.

 

Good luck, Tenno!

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FiveHours

FiveHours

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I'm writing up my first entry to this thread's challenges right now! It's actually a lot of fun.

A very promising entry!

 

 

 

Final reminder that the deadline for this week's contest is TOMORROW.

 

Make sure to send in your entries in before then, to avoid disappointment.

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