ROUND 16 and The Number of the Beast...

[Tricia]

Rev 13:18: Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.
666

Oh she is evil inside… but she sure smells good.
Sid has come here to torture us all… and win again.
We must be strong.
We must resist her wicked influence.

SIXteen: The number of Sid’s Round
SIX: The number of Sid’s words
SIX SIX SIX: The number of words allowed in this round

666 words? In the last round TammyK used 327 words in her story.
And that Wicked Wench used 1,375.

So start watching your ifs, ands and buts… they do add up you know!


[glow=orange,2,300]SID’S EVIL LIST[/glow]

[glow=green,2,300]INFERNAL
OPULENT
FRAGILE
MUTINOUS
GRAPHITE
ATTENTION[/glow]




Here is how ye shall be judged.

When the time of the writing has passed I will copy/paste each story into a word document.
Then I will go to the Toolbar up top and I will click on ‘TOOLS’… and there… in the TOOL list… not too high up on the TOOL list… not too far down on the TOOL list… as a matter of fact very near the top of the TOOL list I will see ‘THE TOOL’.
‘The TOOL’ is called ‘Word Count’. It counts words.

It will count how many words you used in your story.
It is a wonderful tool and I would suggest using it while you write your story… so much easier than counting out the words on your fingers and toes.


Here are the ‘Special Scoring Rules' for ROUND 16:

For each ‘LIST’ word you use you will receive 50 points.

For each word over or under 666, you will lose 15 points.
There will be a 20 point bonus for anyone hitting exactly 666 words.

During the time of the voting, votes for your story are only worth 40 points.

So conceivably, the person with the most popular votes may not necessarily win the election… I mean… the round.



PS. This post has 337 words


[glow=yellow,2,300]Stories are due Wedsnesday Dec.1 come on.... that's plenty of time for such a short story.[/glow]


WORD CALCULATOR!!!
If you don't have the word count tool use this website... just plug in your text and hit 'Calculate Words'
www.wordpeddler.com/wordcounter.htm

[sidra]

you cannot resist my wicked influence!

666 is my favorite number.

okay, i admit it, i'm scared. i feel like bette davis' character in "All About Eve". chaos is eyeing my ass... and what about tammy, eh? she's like the queen of short stories!

but evil shall endure... oh, yes, it shall.

bring it on! bring. it. on.

[Tricia]

It is bringed.. uh... brung... uh... brought... on.

Yeah, sure, whatever...
Everybody is eyeing your ass Sid... you have a lovely ass!

*lifts Diva's skirt*
Speaking of lovely asses. Take a gander at this!

[Tricia]

Sorry I had to modify!

[glow=yellow,2,300]Stories are due Wedsnesday Dec.1 come on.... that's plenty of time for such a short story.[/glow]

Get Writing!

[Tricia]

Word Counter for those who don't have it in Windows...

If you want you can visit this site and use the 'word counter' example.

javascriptkit.com/script/script2/countwords.shtml

Just delete the welcome message, plugin your text and hit the calculator button and it will tell you how many words you entered.


Actually this one is just as easy to use, but you don't have to delete anything, just plug in your text and hit 'Calculate Words'
www.wordpeddler.com/wordcounter.htm

[RedneckDiva]

Tricia, if I didn't know any better I'd think you really liked looking up my skirt! And please don't stop! I haven't gotten this much action in oh so long... But please, don't give me all the love - I hear Sid's got a nice boo-tay too!

666 words eh? You know that this God-fearing Southern Baptist is praying for y'all, right? *grin*

I WILL be a part of this round even if the Dark and Creepy Dude of All Things Evil and Mundane and Particularly Spooky and Devious tries to take my soul in the process! *lifts her skirt and checks for that creepy dude* Nope, no one there but Tricia -- and could that be Angela??

[Tricia]

I'm used to creepy mundane dudes... I work for a computer company remember?

Sid is the only creepy one here
*whispers*
She is evil inside

*yells*
It says so right on the front of her avatar!
Look at those... uh... I mean ... look at that!

I am pretty sure that IS Angela's pointy little head that bumped into mine under your skirt... can't she wait her turn?


Hey does any body know where Cynthia went?
Here one day gone the next.
She's too good (strange) a writer to abandon us like this!

Hunt her down!
Bring her to me!
mawahahahahaha...

[Chaos]

/me feels top of my head, looking for the point of which the Dark Queen speaks

Get outta my kool-aid, Queenie! Jeez...I don't know what's wrong with you, woman...always gotta be up under the same skirt that I am...

Heh, Diva, I was wondering how long it would be before someone invoked the mighty Bible Belt. Don't worry, girl, I got your back...crosses and holy water at the ready.

I shall bring Cynthia to you, my Queen. What will be my reward? (I told the silly girl that she killed Mystic Springs...she just couldn't understand that! LMAO...I told her it was our fault, cuz we just got too confused about how she could be in the trunk of my car and sending you headlong into a tree at the same time...how the hell were we supposed to write our way out of that?)

Queenie, I have to tell you that I am pleased to see the rules modification for this round. I think maybe we were all getting a little *too* comfortable in our same old routine. This should be interesting, if nothing else!

[RedneckDiva]

*hears Taps playing in the background as she fondly remembers Mystic Springs*

Those were the days, my friends...those were the days...

Crosses and holy water, eh Angela? Wow, you are at the ready! Too bad I'm Baptist and the holy water would just get mistaken for drinking water at a potluck dinner after the a.m. service, lol. But you might keep some in a safe place anyway - like under your skirt. Or wait...if you get as much traffic under yours as I'm getting lately that might not be a safe place!

I had such a rockin' idea for my story last night and I am SO fired up to get on it. I've missed two rounds due to a hectic Mom-schedule and a blasted case of the worst writer's block I've had in ages. It comes and goes - usually going when I need to write for FnP. But I refuse to fall victim this time. I'm running with it - and fast!

And do you know how hard it is to run in a skirt with people under it?

[Chaos]

Wow...I just went to visit Mystic Springs...it was cold there! And there were these enormous tumbleweeds rolling slowly down Main St. It was scary. So I left.
I think I saw Sturgis, though. Wonder why the Wench left him there?

*Shakes off leftover bad feelings from the ghost town...

Anyway, Diva, I must confess...the crosses and holy water are leftovers from my vampire-slaying days. I *would* keep them under my skirt, but you know how Tricia is. She'd just end up hurting herself, playing around under there...you know, Dark Queens of the Underworld + Holy Water = Pain for the Dark Queen. On second thought...

*quickly secures crosses and vials of holy water under my skirt...come & get it, Queenie!

[Tricia]

The Springs still has some life left in it believe me!

I think that Cynthia has been under a spell.
Yes... definitely... her imagination has run away with her.
I ran into a tree? Oh please... I am an excellent driver (said like Rainman).

I am having tea with Aunt Des as we speak... trying to figure out how we can get the poor brain-washed child out of Chief's trunk.

I've just been drinking my tea REALLY, REALLY slow (because of the holidays), but soon we shall be back to dancing in cemetaries and playing with dragons! Yay!!!

I have writer's block bad... too much tryptophan!
Arrrrgh!

[sidra]

you know, i keep saying i'm so evil, and all this and that, but i think i've just found proof that i truly am one of the devil's creations.

i got 666 on the fourth try. i thought i'd have to try harder than this, but apparently my inherent evilness is triumphant!

c'mon, y'all, if i can do it, i know you can. i only hang with the evillest of the evile, you know.

and you have to say it that way. eeevile. like the fru-its of the deville.

[sidra]

SG1

Elizabeth slowly opened her bedroom door.

Her parents were sleeping. She pictured them nested in their opulent bed, the silken bed sheets heaving as her parents tossed and turned beneath them, tormented by guilty, infernal dreams. At least Elizabeth hoped they were. They should be, after what they had done to her.

Elizabeth wondered if her mother even cared that while she was downstairs cleaning up after the lame catered party she’d thrown for her daughter, upstairs Elizabeth had been thrown to the floor, his weight on top of her, growling that she was a slut and he’d prove that she wasn’t a virgin… She had lain there, trying to scream, and unable to catch her breath as he ripped into her fragile flesh, bloodying her pale ivory party dress.

The house was dark. Elizabeth saw the light from beneath her brother’s bedroom door and knew he was still up, but he was probably too busy masturbating to hear her walk silently by. She walked down the stairs, feeling almost mutinous being up so late and out of her room. But, then again, she was planning to be anyway. What she was about to do was much worse than being up at two in the morning on a school night.

She entered the stainless steel kitchen, the granite tiles chilly against her bare feet. Her fingers trailed across the spotless countertop. She stopped when she came to the set of knives in their black walnut holder. Her mother’s most prized possession. They had been a gift from her mother’s best friend from high school, James. James, who came over ever other day to help her mother cook. James, who had been there for her mother when her husband had been at the office, working late with his young blonde secretary. James, who had Elizabeth’s eyes.

His death had devastated Elizabeth and her mother. After all, he had been more of a father to her than the man who had taken her on her bedroom floor, taking her innocence, scattering stuffed animals everywhere. James had been killed in a drive-by shooting, soon after Elizabeth’s mother had told him the truth about who Elizabeth’s real father was. Elizabeth’s mother kept saying it had been an accident, but Elizabeth knew the truth. Her mother’s husband was a jealous, possessive man, and he was rich. He wasn’t the world’s cleanest lawyer; he knew people who knew people.

Elizabeth grasped the largest knife in her hand and pulled; it slid smoothly from it’s wooden sheath and shone deadly sharp and silver in the moonlight streaming in from the bay window. James’ funeral had been a week ago. Her birthday had been over at midnight. She had tried to tell her mother about what her husband had done, she had tried to get her to take her to the hospital, but she had been ignored. “Don’t make up stories, Elizabeth,” her mother had said, cleaning the blood off of her trembling daughter’s thighs. “Your father loves you; he would never do something this horrible.”<br>
“My father is dead,” Elizabeth had replied. Her mother had ignored her, and put her to bed, telling her she’d feel better in the morning.

Elizabeth’s mother hadn’t been the same since James died. She wanted to dream she was a happy wife, a good homemaker, with legitimate children. But Elizabeth would wake her up.

Elizabeth looked down at her wrists, crisscrossed with pale pencil lines. She’d practiced this all night, waiting for everyone to go to sleep. She laid the edge of the knife against the graphite marks on her skin, and pressed. Blood welled up and stained the edge of the blade. She pressed deeper.

But not too deep. This was, after all, just a cry for attention. Her mother would see. She wouldn’t be able to deny this. She’d have to go to the hospital now. Elizabeth knew what she was doing. She waited until the blood began to flow freely, and then she screamed.

[Chaos]

Whew! Boy, am I relieved! I mean, it's really good to know that I can hang with the evillest of the evile...I was a little worried, for about a minute and a half, but today I found that I was just being silly! Of course I'm evile (since Sid said I *have* to say it that way...)!

And, even better, I'm twice as evile as Sidra, because I hit 666 in only *two* tries! Muahahahaha!

How many points do I get for THAT, I wonder?

[Chaos]

AD1

The ballroom was alive with color and music. Everywhere she looked she saw flashes of skin and swirling dresses, and the tinkling sound of a woman’s spiraling laughter flavored the whole scene. The opulent décor of the room exuded wealth and power in the extreme, from the graphite-and-gold color scheme to the damask linens and fragile crystal stemware gracing the buffet.

Though the scene was one of gaiety and fun, her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she thought those around must surely hear it, even above the pulsing beat of the music. Her gaze fixed on the opposite side of the room, where a man with golden skin and impossibly bright green eyes stood calmly watching her. Both the distance and the noise level should have prevented her from hearing him, but she knew, regardless of these factors, that he was calling out to her. It was almost as if she could feel his desire to have her at his side.

Unable to physically resist, she gave up her own will and began making her way to the other side of the ballroom. Time and distance and other immutable laws of the universe played tricks on her as she negotiated her way to him. One moment it seemed as if she were on “fast-forward,” and the next she imagined she was running underwater, against a strong current.

An interminably long time later, she raised her eyes, seeking him across the sea of people. She still felt his pull, the compulsion to go to his side, and she was indeed still moving in the right direction. However, rather than taking her closer, as she intended, it appeared that each step took her farther away from her goal.

Panicked now, unreasonably, she took a step backward, her eyes searching frenetically for an escape that wasn’t there. There were no doors or windows anywhere in the ballroom, a fact that her mind mutinously refused to wrap around, because if there was no way out, then how did she get in?

Even as she continued to scan the perimeter of the room for the door that she was sure she’d merely overlooked, her attention was diverted as the noise of the ball faded out to a soft murmur, only to be replaced by the sound of someone sobbing.

Over the next few moments the sobbing ebbed away, and she heard her daughter’s voice, as clear as if she were standing right there. “Oh, momma, why did you do it?"

Her daughter was obviously heartbroken, and the woman wanted to soothe her. She looked around wildly, but of course, her daughter wasn’t actually there.

Renewing her effort at escape, she began shoving through the dancing, laughing, happy people, who still danced about the ballroom, seemingly oblivious to the strange phenomena that plagued her. As she progressed through the crowd, occasionally one or another of the party-goer’s eyes would meet hers; filled with terror and warning, it seemed that they struggled to convey some message. When she tried to stop to speak to one or another of them, a wave of dancers swept her along, away from the crowd.

Frustrated beyond belief, she finally stopped looking at the others’ faces, focusing instead on reaching the back wall of the apparently endless room. It seemed to her that she could just make out the outline of some sort of entryway…a gate, perhaps.

This time, she was actually making progress in reaching her intended goal. However, as each step brought her closer to what she could tell now was, in fact, a gate, some of the faces of those around her seemed to melt away, revealing scaly, reptilian, red and black visages.

Reaching the gate at last, she turned to face the ballroom once more. As she watched in horror, the last vestiges of the infernal illusion dissipated and, as regret and fear overwhelmed her, the flames leapt to receive her, the green-eyed man at the center of it all.