Contest Entry Post!

This is it.  Post your 100 word short story from your villain/antagonist's perspective in the comments below.  Contest runs from the moment this posts to 3 p.m. EST on Friday.  The first 15 25 valid (as in, are 100 words exactly) entries will be judged for the chance to win a query critique from Brooks.  For more info, see Sunday's contest post.


The REALLY Real Curious Crow said...
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The REALLY Real Curious Crow said...

15 and up
YA Contemporary

If she’d left him alone, I’d have hated her less. That kind of girl—the kind who thinks she can just waltz into a new school and take what isn’t hers, especially when it’s mine—needs to be shown her place. I can’t believe that skank made me work so hard to get under her skin; most girls cave in way quicker (ask little scarf-and-barf Janey). When I slapped Tory in the middle of the quad, it felt so freaking good to feel everyone’s fear again. I’d earned it.

I just never thought she’d have the guts to hit back.

Monica said...

YA Mystery

I could smell the blood on my hands. Smell it. I never knew blood had smell-- never had a cause to think about it. But it does. It’s salty and raw and . . . and it’s all I can do to keep from vomiting. He’s lying there staring at me. Still judging me. Still thinking he knows me. Even dead he does these things. Setting the rock down I turn my back on him and rub my hands in the dirt. Maybe they have to get dirty to get clean. I bite back a laugh. Dirty to get clean. I like that.

courtneysloanwrites said...

Never partner with an idiot, no matter how good a patsy they’d make. He had to deal with that psycho who was smuggling his brothers and sisters into this putrid hole, nothing like the home in the stars they deserved. The deep stations were theirs; the cattle just didn’t know it yet. Staring at their “meals” hung on the girders, he sneered at the smell of human blood. Once it had been his whole existence. Now he ate higher on the chain. Reassured for another shift, he put on his security uniform and Bio-Com to climb into the station proper.

Adult/Science-fiction Horror

Alaskan Ninja said...
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Alaskan Ninja said...
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Laurie Dennison said...

YA fantasy

Tepuya watched Joelle from his window. Her black curls tumbled over her shoulder as she knelt down. He breathed an ancient word, awakening their connection. Through her eyes, he saw her knuckles tighten as she lifted the bowl from the well. She felt him in her mind and removed her mask.

He flinched at the reflection in the water. Joelle had been beautiful before; he almost regretted cleansing her. He stretched his thoughts, commanding her hands to slide the mask back in place, but she didn’t obey. The cleansing had given him her vision, but no control over her actions.

Laurie Muench said...

YA Paranormal Suspense

I awoke with a groan and tried to sit up, but my hands and feet were bound behind me.
Albert loomed over me. “Edgar, you murdered my sister. You deserve to die.” He pushed a rusted box over the side of the boat. A chain snaked after it, rattling along the wooden floor.
Reality struck me; I was about to die. I thrashed, kicking at the shackles around my feet. “You bastard, I didn’t kill her.”
The boat rocked as Albert heaved me overboard. I plunged into the water and sank under the surface, dragged, feet first into murky depths.

KimberlyFDR said...

Adult Urban Fantasy

I have been rejected by my angel brethren because I wear the battle scar of a demon, but it is no longer a source of my shame. Now it is a badge of honor, a symbol that I am stronger than my brothers.

When our father abandoned us, my brothers took to fighting amongst themselves, each vying to be the next leader. I remained silent; watching, waiting. Soon they will have to bow down before me or suffer their fate at the end of my blade.

I will rule Heaven from upon my throne, even if my kingdom is empty.

Laurie Muench said...
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Matthew said...

Adult/dark fantasy

Fortunately, the day is overcast. I watch as they ride one by one to the wooden doors, each admitted onto the monastery grounds by a black-frocked monk. These men claim to be humble pilgrims, continuing the traditions of their fathers. They're wrong. It's merely a spectacle. Meaningless. They don't remember. I do. I knew their grandfathers' grandfathers. I cannot follow them through those doors, but I'm nothing if not patient. I've waited years. I can wait a few days more. When they have finished their business, they'll scatter back to their homes. I'll pursue them then, and they will remember.

Trisha Leigh said...

Historical/Mythological YA

The heart of the circus throbbed outside, mingling with scents of cinnamon and butter and excitement that infected children with glee. But inside the fortune teller’s tent, this child’s rosebud lips tugged into a frown. White-blond curls kissed her cheeks, dingy sandals hanging three inches from the sawdust floor. Battered hope glimmered in her sad blue eyes.

The gods revealed the future, and its terrible truth filled Lydia with delight. She told the girl of a man named John, who would be president. Who would love her. Who would destroy her.

The glimmer of hope flickered, then died.

Lydia smiled.

Ed Varga said...

“She is too pretty,” the American business man said with disdain. “I've got a daughter that age. I can't do this.”

The man with the greasy combed-over hair shrugged, saying, “I've got a daughter too. She isn't here. This one is. She is here for what you want, not to be your daughter.”

“Fine,” the American said while removing the wallet from his pocket. “How much do I owe you?”

“Do your business first,” the greasy man said while rubbing the stubble on his face, “then pay me what your conscious was worth.”

Matthew Bryant said...

Adult Science Fiction/Urban Fantasy

They sit in confinement like caged birds, the three of them contributing the only color to an otherwise drab landscape. I approach the youngest where he sits sobbing and reach my hand out to caress the nape of his neck. His skin is so soft I feel I could pet it for days, loving the contrast to the coarseness of this world. It gives way easily beneath my fingertips and the warm fluid flows out. I let it collect, calm, then tighten my grip and plunge his face into its reflective surface. “Now Alex, I want you to contact him.”

Alaskan Ninja said...
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Alaskan Ninja said...
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Puddin said...
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Puddin said...

Adult Dark Fantasy

Ash leaned in the doorway. Five bodies littered the barroom, amid a collection of broken tables and blood. Two were beheaded. His boys, Dent and Clay, lapped at the necks of two others.


The last waited against a wall, alive, unable to move.

Each finished feeding and popped the head off their meal.

Ash smiled. “Real vampires like us should be hunting, not waiting for dead squirrels. Strength must rule.”

“Who gets the last one?” Clay asked, mouth dripping crimson.

“Earn it,” Ash replied wolfishly. The boys exploded in a frenzy of fangs and claws.

Yes, strength would rule.

Tricia Clasen said...
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Kathleen said...

Yikes, I posted mine in the Sunday comments section instead of here!
Kathleen S. Allen
gaelicfairie (at)
YA Zombie

Dr. Hunt
The thrill of finding one is an adrenaline high, my heart races, my palms sweat and I can’t seem to take a deep breath. It’s been months since I’ve experienced a capture so, yes I’m going.

We stake out the house in our black car with tinted windows. I know they know we are out here. The curtains part, I glimpse part of a face. It doesn’t matter. We’ll get him in the end. We always do. The zombie can hide but it’s pointless. We have the means, the money. And the power. And we always win. Always.

Tricia Clasen said...

MG Fantasy

I hate humans with their oohs and aahs and giggling children, but I nudge up against them, begging for food.

I open my eyes wider,and a boy with cotton candy stains around his mouth shoves his hand in my face. I gobble the pellets so quickly I bite his palm. Just a nibble. He screams and runs to his parents, pointing back in my direction.

I’ve already walked away, blending in with hundreds of deer holed up in this refuge.

But I know where the fence is broken, and I intend to change the rules of deer hunting season.

Kirsten Squires said...
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Kirsten Squires said...
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Kirsten Squires said...

YA fantasy

The jars shudder, tinkling against each other, as if the things inside know that freedom is just around the corner.

“They’re getting restless. Bring the two boys to me now so we can get started.”

I wander around the room while I wait, checking the vines inside the holding cell, making sure they’re ready for activation. It stinks in the squashed space, like all the rancid places the souls ever visited in their living state exist within. I run my hand along the wall blackened with grime. The residue left on my fingers sends a shot of exhilaration through me.

P.Adams said...

Middle Grade Modern Fantasy

"I can smell him," the Queen whispered. A mist of fine rain fell from above and curled about her mouth with each rasping breath. The cage of her chest rattled.

She turned towards the two of them. Their breathing hurried. The boy’s heart beat a rabbit’s pulse through his veins. Of this, she was sure.

Unlike the rabble of dead she was fortunate enough to rule, he was alive. Such a kingdom she inherited. Dead filth. Worthless, weak. So burdened by what should have been. Everything should have been different. Everything.

The anger clicked against the back of her throat.

Davis Johnson said...

Middle Grade - Fantasy/Alternative Reality

“They always blame me,” he thought, stepping off the porch. “And yet, I am only here to make him look like the good guy. Without me… he would be the thing children fear the first time they catch his eye.”

He took a deep breath of the crisp night air, every star shining bright in the sky. No chance of snow. Perfect. Some child was not deemed ‘worthy’ of meeting the man who made it snow.

Correction. The man who forced the child to make it snow.

“No. Instead they get to meet me. All ready to play my role.”

C. Stuart Hardwick said...

Adult, science fiction

Jacetus dropped onto the passenger stool, a sandstone plate grasped in a tentacle and held to his chest. It was only a fossil, just as the scientists had claimed. If he'd been wrong about that, perhaps he'd been wrong about the ice and the cycle of ages and the Mother Creator too. The weapon had vaporized the mountain complex, and with it, any hope of resurrection. His faith, it seemed, had destroyed what it had meant to preserve, and as lightning flashed and the truck started floating with the torrent, there was nothing left to him but to weep.

Cblair said...

YA Theological Thriller

I leaned in, inches from the priest’s sweaty forehead and whispered, “I’ve stopped the shockwave just below your brain from plowing into your mind. My own power is the only thing keeping you alive right now.”

“G-God is evil.” The priest’s words were whispered with the effort it took to speak.

Interesting. Speech was supposed to be impossible at this stage, but apparently the willpower of this puny human far surpassed my expectations. Still, he had to go.

“He is evil,” I agreed. “But no more evil than you or I.” With those words, the shockwave flowed through my fingers.

Leah said...

Adult Horror/Sci-Fi

I stare down the barrel of my M-16 at the cowering toddler.

It’ll be easy to end it. The boy is defenseless, unable to survive alone.

Emma stands next to me, biting her lip.

“I have to, Em,” I say. “We can’t keep him.”

“Do it fast then, Captain.”

The little boy’s chest heaves with the strength of his sobs, but the rest of the fight has been taken out of him by days of hunger and solitude. He’s so like our Thomas was.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I pull the trigger.

“I can’t let you become a zombie.”

Alaskan Ninja said...

Adult Science Fiction

Ort winced away from the exploding ensign.

It was a feedback pulse; the ensign had been touching the controls. Sparks cascaded from his station, embers twinkled to the floor below.

Ort wiped bits of ensign from his face with one scaly hand and growled. Feedback was a dirty tactic, employed by desperate pirates.

"Man those controls," Ort shouted.

Unlike the ensign, the station could be salvaged. Soon Ort's binnacle displayed the ship which had fired on them. The cowards were fleeing.

"Weapons lock!"

"Take them alive," Ort said, picking his teeth with one claw. "I love the taste of desperation."

Random Andrews said...

YA Urban Fantasy

“Why do you two think that you can recycle souls and simply place them in new bodies dispersed throughout this world, with no issues at all? They are exhausted and they want their rest Jesus! Even without me, you cannot wash away a soul’s sins and expect them to be purified again. Even I know that. Souls aren’t Gods, neither directly or indirectly. They aren’t supposed to live forever, whether you want to disguise their previous lives by giving them a new host or not. One of these days your whole system is going to fail right beneath your eyes.”

KellyCalabrese said...

Middle Grade - Commercial/Magical Realism
24,000 words

Arnie Palm hoisted a red, satin bag high in the air. Even higher than his blonde hair that he gels to stand on end. "Feast your eyes on this," he said, revealing a glass skeleton head jar with a white vapor swirling inside. "It's MONSTER breath."

"Whoa!" The entire fourth grade closed in tight as Saran Wrap.

"Wanna sniff?" Arnie lowered the jar to eye level. With each twist of the lid, his grin widened. A slither of vapor escaped. "Watch out," Arnie yelled. "It's poisonous."

"Really? Ahhhh!" All gagged.

"No, not really," Arnie cackled. "Monsters don't exist. Silly people."

Emma Trevayne said...

And, we're done! Thanks, everyone, for entering; I had so much fun reading the entries, and I know Brooks will, too. We'll get back to you soon! :)

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