Tutor Writing Challenge! [June}

[hesper hart 🐺 d9f]

Surprise, surprise! The monthly tutor-hosted Writing Challenge is back in action!

Our team is super excited to get this event up and running again! To encourage more participation this time around, we’ve updated our prize system (to be announced at the close of this month’s challenge, but yes, cash and CBs are on the table,) and even better, we are now including a bonus CB that you can secure just by completing two consecutive events. For example, if you do the challenges for May and then June, that’s a free CB just for you! After that, your counter will be reset and you will need to complete the process again to win the bonus. Simple as that!

Same as always, feel free to post your submissions below or in the AU Board.

TLDR;
We want to read your writing!
We’ll bribe you if we have to!

PROMPT: Supernatural Creatures!
That's right, Halloween is coming twice this year. For this month's event, the tutors and I ask that you toss any amount of your characters that you would like deep into the world of Supernatural Fiction! This can include werewolves, vampires, witches, trolls, mermaids, angels, demons, super heroes, or anything else those beautiful brains of yours can conjure up!

The posts can be whatever (reasonable) length you would like, and it can be about whatever you want, so long as there are supernatural creatures involved at some capacity and you post it before the deadline. Take this time to break the mold a little and decide what these creatures mean in your world, and how do they live within it?

Submissions will be closed a month from now, and the winner will be announced soon after! Good luck, and have fun!

[djed carnelian . d8m [kap]]

Himiko Naifu
cw: blood, knives, death/murder

Gentle. Sweet. Kind. Caring. My appearance deceives people to make them think that I possess these traits, when in reality, I'm quite the opposite. Violent. Vicious. Angry. Cruel. I'd fight just about anyone if I'm given the chance. I'll sink my literal and metaphorical fangs into my enemies as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Cold. Wet. Dark. Gloomy. The night is creeping in, swallowing the daylight as it goes. It's becoming the perfect time to dwell in the shadows. I'll take my time to search for my prey, hungry as I am. I crave it: the blood. I need it: the thrill.

I'm hunting solo tonight. I don't have the desire to share what I crave so deeply this time. I don't need the help of the rest of them. I can manage on my own.

I emerge from my residence where I shield myself from the sun, and enter into the deep black of the night. I carry a knife in my hand as a warning. The blade glints under the streetlights as I pass beneath them. This weapon will hardly be necessary, as I have my own way of doing things without it, but it's a good deterrent for people not to try to fight me when I approach. They're much more likely to succumb to me, giving me what I want: blood.

As I meander through the streets, it's quiet. Most of my potential victims have returned home, rather than wandering about at this time of night. They're being smart. They know that my kind roams out here every night, patrolling for a target or two.

It takes an hour or so before I hear movement from anyone but myself. I hear my prey trying to sneak away from me, but he's too slow. I charge toward him, knife in hand, and pin him to the exterior wall of the brick building nearest to us.

Just one bite. That's what I need.

He starts to scream, but I won't let him continue. I can't be caught in a situation like this. They'd kill me.

I put my knife to his throat and he goes silent. He knows to be silent when there's a knife to his throat. Smart. I'm surprised. That, or he's seen what's happened to others when they didn't shut up.

"Listen to me," I say to him in a harsh whisper. "You're going to give me what I want, and I'll let you go, got it?"

He nods slowly. Someone so quickly compliant likely doesn't know what I'm after. I wouldn't be surprised if the young man thought that I wanted his wallet or something, but I have no desire for other people's money. I'm here for a different type of wealth. The kind that makes me feel whole.

I lower the knife slowly, ready to put it back to his throat again if he tries anything. Then, I turn his head to the side, exposing the bare flesh of his neck. He's shaking, terrified of what's about to happen. I open my mouth, exposing my fangs, and dig them deep into his neck.

Then, I drink what I'd been craving: the sweet, sweet blood of a human.

He starts screaming, and I get carried away. I keep going until he falls silent. Normally, I stop after I get enough of a taste, but I was after too much tonight. I'd taken his life along with his blood. I pull away from him and he collapses to the ground, lifeless.

Then, I hear footsteps. Loud footsteps, approaching quickly. So, I run. I bolt down an alleyway, away from my pursuers. I won't let them find me. I weave through the little known parts of town, and back to my abode. I slip through the door, latch it behind me, and grin, blood still staining my lips and dripping from behind them. I let out a maniacal laugh. I feel pure euphoria. It's glorious.

Then, the voice of my sister.

"Successful night, I take it, you sick fuck?"

I look to her and grin, baring my fangs. Fear drains the color from her flesh, and I lunge.

Time for another meal.

[alex 🐺]

campbell ; 

She wakes in District One's hospital, tubes running out of her nose for oxygen she didn't require. Tubes taped to the back of her palm and hanging from her arm, pumping saline into veins that no longer needed the nourishment.

Her mind recalls a series of images—an abandoned building with Stevie, her side spilling blood. Ripred, it was so much fucking blood. Golden curls and green eyes, fangs in a mouth curling up in the most beautiful smile, a soft hand to her brow, and her blood on fire.

She screams when she wakes in a place that wasn't as sterile as the hospital, the pain of a thousand knives digging into her chest as her body cries out. Warm liquid coats her throat, tasting like iron, ichor, and copper, and she swallows, completing the circle before collapsing once more.

Death takes the form of a blonde vampire with emerald eyes, her fingertips leaving goosebumps as they trail down Campbell's temple to cup her cheek, grazing over the curve of her cheekbone. 

Bell knows the moment she wakes up what she is, who she's become. The word comes to her mind, innate and instinctual. Vampire. 

Her sire—Stevie—watches her from the doorway, then moves to sit on the edge of an armchair in the hospital room that's the same cold, clinical grey as the walls. Bell still can't believe that a training session that had turned into a furious make-out session up against a wall had ended with a metal sword through her stomach and now this—waking up changed.

Waking up dead.

Undead. 

"Three days have passed," Stevie says from the chair, examining her nails, the black polish shining in the fluorescent lights. Which were bright—far too fucking bright now. And her hospital gown was way too scratchy on her skin. Everything feels like sensory overload and Bell—

"Easy there, tiger," Stevie warns her, up in a blur and holding Bell down with a strength that she shouldn't have. The machines that Bell's hooked up to beep loudly with her accelerating heartbeat, a warning.

"The doctors are so surprised with how quick you're healing. We need to leave. Soon. Vampire rule number one, after all."

"What the fuck did you do to me?" Bell asks, squinting in the lights. Fuck, they were way too bright. Is this how Stevie walked through life? Perpetually uncomfortable because her new eyes saw far too well? Because she felt far too much? Because she was the perfect predator who required nothing but blood and death to survive?

"I saved your life—" Stevie begins and Bell just snarls.

"You stabbed me!" Bell argues.

"You were too distracted—"

"Your lips were on my neck. Anyone would be distracted. You—you wanted this, didn't you?

Stevie had sought her out in the gym those months ago. She had walked over to Campbell after she had finished a session with Burke and made some stupid fucking comment about fighting someone her own size. It was foreplay and innuendo and Campbell had taken one look at her, scoffed, and then followed her out of the door, simple as that.

Her dad was gonna kill her. First for Stevie, who he claimed was going to throw her off her game. And now for this. 

Too bad she was already dead. 

"Think about it, babe. A Career and a vampire. You'd be unstoppable." Stevie grabs her hand and its cold—ice cold.

How the fuck had Bell never noticed it before? How had she missed all the signs? She'd only ever seen Stevie after dark. They would always meet in the abandoned building that she knew Stevie was squatting in, with some Peacekeepers palms greased to keep quiet. Her skin was perfect, green eyes that sparkled like emeralds and skin that seemed to glow from within, kissed by the sun. It was as if she was right out of a story, a nightmare used to keep kids from acting out. Or maybe she was just the perfect honeypot for stupid teenage girls with crushes.  

"I don't—I don't want this," Campbell tries to argue but Stevie just smiles, her teeth white as pearls and her fangs looking sharp as daggers. How the fuck had Campbell missed those all of the times when Stevie would bite and suck at her neck, ecstasy with every touch? She should've known better.

"You'll get over it," Stevie argues, tracing patterns on her palm. Campbell should pull away but she doesn't. She feels—her throat feels like it's on fire and a frisson of pain runs through her body. 

"And you're hungry," she adds, almost proud, her voice low and husky, like honey in Bell's ears. Even now. Even after Stevie stole her life and her agency and burned it all to the ground with one small act. 

"Care to hunt with me, baby vampire? Nothing can stop us now. We're going to have so much fun together." Stevie gets up at that, and she's all leather and darkness, sharp lines and edges, a hand outstretched for Bell to grab. To accept the offering. To accept her fate. 

Campbell feels her hands start to shake as she grips her head, tearing at her hair, trying to wrap her mind around all of the implications.

One thing she knows for sure, she's hungry as hell. Stevie must know it too—hunger's never far from a vampire.

Bell gets up, placing her feet on the floor slowly, carefully. Pulling up the hospital gown, she doesn't even see a mark on her stomach where she knows Stevie had run a blade through her intestines. 

She stretches and pulls her arms above her head, testing out her new and improved body. She feels—good. Great, even. Hungry, but strong. Bell pulls the IV out of her arm as Stevie digs in a backpack, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black sweater and handing them to Campbell.

"Are you ready to start your new life? Our new life?"

[bailee]

lock o'malley

"Come in!" The overly enthusiastic voice of Lock O'Malley greets you on the other side of the door before you even have a chance to knock. You enter the old farmhouse, the floorboards creaking beneath you as you step inside. Lock's grin is wide, the smell from the kitchen is heavenly, and you feel more at home than you ever have before. His house is big and beautiful, showing its age with the floral wallpaper and the oaken staircase. "Mom and Dad are super excited to have you over. It's been a while since the last time we've had company over. Dinners almost ready."

"Thanks for having me," you say as Lock leads you into the dining room. 17 plates and cutlery are arranged neatly, quilted placemats finishing off the quaint appeal of the home. The laughter of children playing outside echoes throughout the house, and the sunlight shines in through the curtains, creating pools of lights illuminating the kitchen table. He pulls out a seat for you beside him before piles of children begin to flow through the house, each making their way to their respective seats. They chatter excitedly to you, clearly ecstatic about their newfound friend in you.

The matriarch of the O'Malley house pads her way into the dining room with a wide variety of mouthwatering food arranged on serving plates. She places the selection in front of you, and you can't help but drool at the smell. The aroma is unlike any you've smelt in District Eleven before, and you can't help but wonder how many years of experience Mrs. O'Malley has put in to make food that looks this appetizing.

Mrs. and Mr. O'Malley seat themselves at their respective tables. "Children, please welcome our guest," Mrs. O'Malley says with a warm smile. She has a motherly aura to her, making you feel protected under the shingles of the old farmhouse. A friendly chorus of welcomes rings through the dining room, and you can't help but smile at their hospitality. "Lock, will you say our grace tonight?"

With a smile, Lock grabs your hand and you clasp your other with your neighbour. As you bow your head down, he begins, "our heavenly father, we thank you for this meal, which was harvested from the fruits of our labour on our very own farm. We thank you for our new guest, and hope he enjoys his meal here today. Bless this food into our bodies and us into your service, Amen."

You recite a quick amen before digging in, grabbing a plateful of mouthwatering steak, potatoes and asparagus. You waft in the amazing scent of onion and garlic and take your first bite. You almost relax into the explosion of flavours that dance around on your taste buds. "Mrs. O'Malley, this is amazing," you say with a smile.

"Thank you! We harvest everything ourselves. The steak was even just butchered today on our farm," she smiles, and looks you up and down "we'll certainly need to fatten you up, you're looking pretty skinny!"

You and Lock laugh at the banter, elbowing each other as you take another bite. "Oh goodness! I forgot the wine!" Mrs. O'Malley pipes up again, "Lock dear, would you mind showing your friend to our wine cellar? I would love for him to choose whichever wine suits his palette best."

Lock nods and you follow him. You are impressed by the caliber of the O'Malley farm. You think it is such a well-established family, with a farm that runs so smoothly under a roof full of happiness and love. He leads you down to the basement, the musty air filling your senses. You shiver once you reach the cellar. Chills run down your spine as you trail your finger down the wide variety of wines. Years and years of labour had been put into the creation of these, and you can't wait to feel the bitter taste of fermented grapes upon your tastebuds.

Then, suddenly, you hear a slam behind you. Lock is nowhere to be seen. You approach the cellar door, an airtight door with only a one way entry. "Lock, did you forget about me?" you bang on the cellar door. Time passes. Panic begins to fill your body the more you bang on the door and no response is to be heard. Lock couldn't have forgotten about you, could he?

"LOCK!" you continue to scream, but your screams only echo through the chamber of the wine cellar, only heard by the rats which wander within the walls. Then suddenly, you remember. The O'Malleys harvested everything in their meals on the farm, but you don't remember seeing any livestock on your way in.