Our Third Writing Competition
These are the top stories from our third ever Writing Competition. The prompt was: The Great Outdoors and the Strange Things that Live there.
A huge thank you to everyone who took part, your submissions have gotten better and better over time! These are the top five, with The Moon Over Wilkerson Draw by Ryan Bush being the winner.
Stay tuned for more writing competitions on the horizon!
Game Warden Joe Patterson trudged through the snow, holding a sputtering torch aloft as he squinted through the darkness. His mind whirled with questions. When does a lie become more costly than the truth? Glancing at the half-moon rising over the canyon walls above him, he keyed his radio.
“Dispatch, this is Patterson. I’m entering Wilkerson Draw. Going silent, I’ll report back in 30.”
“Copy that, Patterson,” a voice crackled. “Good luck.”
He clicked off his radio and continued following the snowy trail.
When the call came in about a car parked at the base of Wilkerson Draw, Joe’s blood had turned cold. The draw had been intentionally closed for years, blocked with trees and rocks. In the summertime, he sometimes escorted out hikers who ignored the DANGER: NO TRESPASSING signs. But now, in the wintertime? He shuddered. Winter was far worse for trespassing fools.
Joe’s torch began dying, and he lit another one hanging from his belt. He peered all about him, eyeing the caves that dotted the limestone cliffs. Some were tiny, barely big enough for a rabbit. But others were wide and deep, large enough for a hibernating bear.
Suddenly, he stopped and spat out a curse.
Lying in the snow before him was a body. Fresh snow partially covered it, but when he knelt to brush it away, he saw the pink tinge of blood underneath.
“The price of a lie,” he muttered. “This ends tonight.”
Another mound lay a few feet away. He confirmed it was the other missing hiker, then straightened to glare at the dark rocks looming above him. Instinctively, Joe felt for the revolver at his side, filled with iron bullets for just such a night. He prayed he didn’t need them.
Joe scrambled up the snowy hill to the base of the cliffs, stumbling and sliding on slick branches hidden underfoot. As he stepped around a tree, his torch illuminated a large cave. He approached cautiously, stopping when a low growl emanated from the darkness. But instead of backing away, he shouted,
“I come with fire and iron, as the Ancient Pact demands! Come forth and speak!”
The growling stopped. A moment later, a shape emerged from the dark maw in the rocks, and Joe took an involuntary step backwards.
It could have been a bear, at first glance. But the enormous, furred shape was something else entirely. It had heavy jowls lined with tusks, massive forepaws, and a hunched, furred torso that bulged and dipped in strange places. It walked with an irregular motion, and Joe got the impression that its joints worked entirely differently than any other animal. The beast rumbled again, and Joe felt more than heard the meaning in his head.
Why do you call me, Son of Adam?
“I’m here because of those hikers down there.” Joe clenched his jaw, trying to dampen his rage. “Why’d you kill them? You could’ve let them pass by on the trail, they never would’ve found you.”
They violated the Pact and entered the territory of my people, forbidden to your kind.
“You could’ve ignored them!”
I could have. But I did not. The creature took another step forward, squinting its beady eyes at the flickering torch and sniffing with narrow, tapered nostrils. You bring fire and iron. You know of the ancient Pact, laid down between your people and mine at the World Sundering. It gives me every right to kill those who disobey it. Did not your people kill one of mine some time ago when he entered your lands?
“One of your warriors rampaged through a village. These were just innocent hikers! My people don’t even know your kind exists, they don’t know the danger!”
The creature rumbled deep in its chest.
That is no fault of mine. You know the danger, why do you not warn them of it?
Joe growled,
“I’m going to. They deserve to know about things like you!”
The creature chuckled.
Are you truly so brave, Son of Adam? You cannot warn them, for your people would panic to know they share the world with other hnau. Foolish humans. You cannot accept that you are accompanied in this universe, which leaves you ill prepared for whatever you encounter.
The creature’s words constricted Joe’s chest. It was right. At best, the truth would lead to mass panic and suicide. At worst, war.
“Have you no remorse?” He choked. “No regret for killing other beings, other hnau who hold the breath of life in their nostrils?”
None. Others of my kind might. But I am as unlike them as I am you. Base where they are noble. Cruel where they are kind. That is why I live here, alone. But still, I acted within the Pact. There is nothing you can do without breaking agreements older than both our civilizations.
“But what am I supposed to do about the bodies? How will I explain their deaths?”
The creature paused, then lowered its head.
I will grant you a boon. I will leave this place, for a time and a season. Say they were killed by a bear, hunt the valleys and mountains until you find one. Slay it, claim you found human flesh in its stomach, and the matter will rest.
“But the truth will be lost.”
The truth is already dead. What is one more lie to protect your people’s delusions?
The creature turned and lurched back to its cave. A moment later, Joe stormed over, intending to demand the creature face justice, Pact or no. But the cave was empty. There was no place to go, but the creature was gone.
Joe returned to the bodies. He stared up at the moon for a long, long time, then finally clicked on his radio.
“Dispatch, this is Patterson. I’ve located two deceased individuals up Wilkerson Draw. Gather a recovery team.” He paused and gave a deep sigh. Truth loses once again.
“Be advised, it seems to have been a bear attack…”
The Only Pescatarian Recipe You’ll Ever Need to Extinguish Your Worst Enemy
Potato-Topped Fish with Mushroom Sauce
Prep Time: 15 minutes, Cook Time: 1 hour, Serves 2
INGREDIENTS
For the Fish:
- 4 tbsp plant butter
- 4 waxy potatoes, sliced
- 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 1 tsp Dijon mustard
- cayenne powder
- 4 skinless fish fillets (your guest’s favorite)
- garlic salt and pepper
- 1/2 Meyer lemon
- fresh parsley
For the Sauce:
- 1 tbsp plant butter
- 1/4 large onion, sliced
- 4 cups mushrooms (chef’s choice), diced
- 1/2 cup vegetable broth
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 2 tbsp cornstarch
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- fresh flower petals (chef’s choice), to garnish
INSTRUCTIONS
Note: For the smoothest culinary experience, this recipe creator recommends reviewing each of these simple steps, from 1 to 13, before you begin preparations.
- Choose your fish wisely. Or, as the French might say, pick your poisson. If you aren’t aware of your guest’s favorite, Atlantic salmon and Pacific cod are always unimpeachable selections. However, don’t be afraid to splurge for the halibut or a thick cut of swordfish steak if you’re feeling fancy. After all, last meals should taste expensive!
- Melt half your butter in a skillet. Add the potatoes and fry for 8 minutes, turning and turning and turning until the edges are as black as the burnt remains of a lifelong arsonist’s magnum opus. Remove the charred potatoes from the skillet.
- Add the remaining butter to the skillet, mixing in the garlic, mustard, and a pinch or two (or three or four) of cayenne powder. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring well. Take care not to allow the hot oil to locate your exposed skin. Overzealous bubbles are often eager to escape the pan!
- Layer half the potatoes at the bottom of a baking dish and lay your fillets to rest on this lumpy bed of carbohydrates. If you have a minute or two to spare, consider telling a short bedtime story. Gruesome fairy tales with bittersweet endings tend to work best in this scenario. “Sweet dreams, little ones!” Now blanket the fillets with the remainder of these warm and cozy potato slices. Season to taste with garlic salt and pepper.
- Spoon the spicy concoction from the skillet over this top layer of potatoes and squeeze the juice of a poor defenseless lemon all over, making sure it oozes into the deepest corners of the dish.
- Bake in a preheated oven at 425 degrees Fahrenheit for approximately 30 minutes until the fish has fallen into a deep sleep and its topping begins to glow golden like a phoenix rising from darkened ashes.
- While waiting for the fish to cook thoroughly, begin to caramelize the onions in butter over a low heat. Cook for 15 minutes in a covered skillet until the ribbons of onion are tender and bronzed, resembling a nest of miniature moray eels at the bottom of the ocean. Uncover on high heat for an extra 5 minutes, stirring constantly and allowing the winding onions to soak up every last drop of melted butter. Again, take care to avoid the inevitable assault of hot oil! It would be a dreadful shame for the cook to burn before reaching the end of this recipe.
- Choose your mushrooms wisely. Or, as the French might say, pick your champignons. If you aren’t in any way a connoisseur of these versatile vegetables, the truth parasol and fallen skullcap are always unimpeachable selections. However, if you wish to guarantee an indelible, haunting meal, don’t be afraid to seek out the notorious fungi commonly known as the reviving devil. Its elegant silhouette and ombré coloring remain a rare sight across the globe, but if you can get your hands on this exquisite find, you will surely be rewarded for the extra effort.
- Introduce your mushrooms to the slithering caramelized onions and cook until the fungi are trembling in the pan, sweating profusely from both heat and fear. At this stage, it helps to reassure their disembodied parts in comforting, hushed tones: “Do not be afraid of death, little ones. Your life mattered. When all is fed and well-done, your life will have meant something. You will have made a vital difference in this world.” Before long, their soulless forms will fall limp.
- Add vegetable broth and cream to the mix. Simmer for roughly 5 minutes or until at least half the liquid has evaporated. To thicken the sauce further, stir in cornstarch slowly, followed by the grated Parmesan, until you have reached desired consistency. Continue to simmer for 1-2 minutes.
- Season the brew with leftover finely-chopped parsley. Sprinkle garlic salt and pepper to taste. Mmm-mmm! That’s one deceptively delicious (and vegetarian-friendly) jus!
- Your potato-topped fish should now be ready to remove from the oven. Ladle the mushroom sauce over the dish, coating it completely with fragrant dressing.
- Garnish with flower petals from the garden to add a pop of vibrant color. Amber morningshade, violet heliospur, and pink winterblood are always eye-catching and unimpeachable selections. However, if you can somehow acquire the rare flower of crimson heartbreak ivy (you will unfortunately be out of luck outside the autumn months), its startling hue and pungent aftertaste will act as the perfect exclamation point to your impeccable meal. The food will cool quickly, so serve immediately. Bon appétit!
The ghost hadn’t visited me in two days. I looked around the room to see if something was different. Same pale walls. Same bookshelf overflowing with worn novels. Even the small fern in the corner was alive, like always. I didn’t know how- I never watered it. I sighed, already dreading the day ahead. Time was slow in the room. When I was younger, I loved the days. The ghost would bring me treasures, and all was right in my life.
I screamed in frustration, hurtling my mosaic unicorn statue at the blank wall mocking me with its sturdiness. The unicorn shattered as I crumpled, hands scratching at my head, reaching for something, anything, to help me. My skin rose with goosebumps, sensing the ghost’s presence, but that only fanned the flames of my destructive fire.
“Who are you? Why do you keep tormenting me like this?” I ripped my hands out of my hair, golden strands coming with it, “Why did you take me? Who are you?”
My desperate cries do nothing, the ghost only blowing wind around me, picking up the hair and shattered glass before vanishing. I seethed with anger at the impermanence of it. The audacity of the ghost who’d cared for me since childhood to erase my problems. Like I don’t matter. Like nothing matters. It doesn’t care about my feelings, or about the fact that it’s destroying my chance for a future. All I have to fill that void are the books it brings me, the ones I thought of, but never said out loud.
I shake my head to dispel the bitter memory. It felt like all I had were bitter memories now. A couple nights ago, I snapped, sick of being trapped my whole life. My childhood was mostly a blur. All I had of my parents were blurry memories and the vivid one of a bedtime story, told slower than usual because of the breeze prematurely flipping the pages, before I woke up in this room and haven’t left it since. The rage came rushing back to me and I balled my fists. A rush of air came through the small window, the only one in the room. The ghost arrived.
“Let me go! Please!” I cried, hoping the words would finally reach it.
I call it a ghost because I’ve never seen it. Its presence was announced by wind and it never spoken to me. The past week, I’ve finally had enough of it. Every day, I’ve begged, persuading it to let me go. Today, I screamed, as if the volume would make it hear me. And then the ghost left the room. It wasn’t the first time the ghost had done this- oh no, this reaction was all too common, but that was it. I wasn’t going to stand here like a helpless princess locked away in a tower. I was going to do something. I scanned the room for tools and grabbed my bedsheets. I tied my sheets into a rope, like in the novels I’d read. I took the densest book on my shelf and channelled my devastation into one single act and broke the window. For a moment, I just stood there in disbelief. I’d finally done it.
Snapping back to myself, I threw the makeshift rope out the window and it plopped down. I was closer to the ground than I had previously thought. I fastened the remaining end of the rope to the bedpost, took a deep breath, and jumped.
…
My eyes widened as I took my first steps into the forest. I walked through the trees, marveling at their size. Their trunks stretched far into the sky, the leafy green tops dappled with sunlight as the sun tried to break through the greenery. The moss-covered stones of all sizes scattered on the dirt floor, seeming to guide my way. Hefty vines draped themselves across the branches and swayed gently- almost like they were reaching for me. The heavy silence in the forest only added to the unearthly ambiance. There were no animals skittering around or birds chirping to disrupt me.
Lost in the beauty of the dark forest, night fell and the sun no longer appeared through the trees. I was deep into the woods, no visible escape from the never-ending trees.
“Oh,” I inhaled sharply as I tripped over a particularly jagged rock. I tried to turn back, but something stopped me.
Dark vines wrapped around my shins, holding me in place. They crawled up my legs, not budging, despite the frantic pulling I was doing.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, starting to panic. The vines had taken control of my hands now, and I tumbled on my face with no way to stop myself.
I whimpered, rolling over and spitting dirt out of my mouth.
“Help! Anyone!” I cried out, the vines tightening like they heard me.
The vines were tighter now. Hidden thorns pierced my skin. I didn’t know what to do. There was no way for me to know what was happening. I just wanted it to stop. My muffled cries were barely audible through the vines covering my face, squeezing, pricking. I choked on the blood pooling in my mouth. My vision was darkening, tears ran down my face, and I silently begged for the ghost to come back to save me. I wish I had never left. I wish I could go back to where I was safe. I would never complain again, not now that I knew what was out there. I was barely holding on, fighting to stay conscious for the futile hope of rescue.
But no one did save me that day. I died in that forest. The vines pulled away from my corpse, leaving me to rot in the dirt soaked in my blood. That was the day I met the ghost. Its wind embraced my body, and I realized I wasn’t meeting it. I was replacing it.
Hunter is missing. We left the marked trail hours ago, snaking our way through the dense Ozark mountain underbrush, calling his name over and over to no avail.
Defeated, I sink into a crouch and pull my almost-empty water bottle from my bag.
Isaac looks back at me and sighs. “We can’t stop here.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, Allie, we’re losing daylight.”
We’re losing daylight… Those three words cause my heart to thud against my ribs. “What are we going to do? We’ll never find Hunter in the dark!”
Isaac walks to me and gently pulls me up from the ground.
“Do you think he’s hurt?” I ask.
Pain flickers in Isaac’s eyes.
This is all my fault.
Isaac and Hunter are best friends, so when Isaac suggested the three of us go on a hike, I was happy to be included. Isaac went slow for my sake and Hunter wandered ahead… alone.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” His voice wavers slightly and I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince me, or himself.
“What do we do now?”
Isaac glances at the darkening sky. “We’re going to have to make camp for the night.”
A shudder passes through me at the thought of sleeping outside. Isaac rubs his hands up and down along my arms. “Can you find some sticks? I’ll look for a place to make a shelter.”
I nod and start picking up small sticks from the forest floor. Tiny insects buzz around my ears and I swat at them in vain. Then, suddenly, they’re gone. I breathe a sigh of relief before realizing the entire forest has fallen silent, like someone hit the mute button.
From somewhere behind me, a stick snaps. “Isaac?”
No answer.
I stand perfectly still and try to control my breathing. A rock clatters across the ground, coming to rest against the heel of my shoe with a soft thud. I spin around, scanning the woods. “Isaac this isn’t funny!”
A large, dark shape moves quickly between two trees, heading in my direction, its eyes flashing red against the deepening shadows. I scurry backwards, until my body connects with something soft that grabs hold and doesn’t let go. I slap frantically at my captor.
“Ow, Allie! What are you doing?” Isaac yells as he grabs my flailing hands.
My breath is coming in ragged gasps. “Something is following me!”
“What? I don’t see anything.”
I look around. The woods seem to be alive again with nighttime noises. Was it just my imagination?
Isaac peels my fingers from the sticks I’m still clutching. “Come on, I’ll get a fire started.”
I follow him to a clearing where he has already stacked firewood in front of a large rock ledge with a hollowed-out area beneath.
I sit on the hard ground and try to concentrate on the fire Isaac is building, but every few seconds I find myself searching the woods for the dark figure.
“Are you okay?” Isaac asks. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I… I don’t know what it was. It was dark and stocky, like a bear, but it had red eyes.”
“Red eyes?”
“I know it sounds crazy…”
“Did it make any noises?” Isaac interrupts.
“No. Why?”
“It’s nothing.” He says.
“Isaac! Tell me!”
“Okay, okay. My grandpa used to tell me about a creature called the Ozark Howler. Supposedly, the Howler has glowing red eyes and a shriek-like howl that will turn your stomach upside down.”
I can feel the blood draining from my face. “Do you think that’s what I saw?”
The fire finally crackles to life, the flames chasing the darkness away. Isaac scoots around beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “It’s just something my grandpa told me on camping trips to try to scare me. Besides, Hunter and I have been looking for the Ozark Howler for years and haven’t even found a –”
His words are cut off by a shriek that sounds half wolf howl, half elf bugle, and completely terrifying.
Isaac crawls forward and shovels dirt over the fire to smother the flames, then nudges me backwards into the shelter. There’s just enough moonlight to make out a large creature slinking toward us. I squeeze Isaac’s hand as another shriek fills the air.
After several long seconds, the shriek ends and we sit side by side in silence. I squint into the clearing, but can’t make out any movement.
“Do you think it’s gone?” I whisper.
“I don’t know.” Isaac says. He pokes his head out from our hiding place and something huge lunges from the shadows.
I watch in horror as another creature sails across the smoldering campfire, colliding with the beast in midair, knocking it to the ground with an Earth-shaking thud.
I yank Isaac back into our shelter as the snarling bodies roll end over end across the ground, moonlight glinting off sharp, white fangs.
With the beasts distracted, I see our chance. “Let’s go!”
Isaac’s nod is almost imperceptible in the darkness. He takes my hand again and we ease out into the night. Just as we near the edge of the clearing, my foot rolls off a wobbly rock and I step painfully on the side of my ankle. Pain shoots up my leg. “OWW!”
I immediately slap my hand over my mouth, as if I could shove the sound back inside. But it’s too late.
The creatures pause, their heads swinging toward us in unison. Before we can move, the larger one lunges, then falls to the ground as the smaller one attacks.
We watch, frozen, as the wounded animal staggers sideways, then bolts back into the woods.
The champion turns to look at us and my body tenses, ready to run despite my throbbing ankle. But instead of charging, the beast tilts its head back and lets out a single, sharp…
BARK!
“Hunter?”
Isaac drops to his knees and the animal runs straight into his outstretched arms.
“Good dog.”
