WEEKLY WRITING CONTEST! First Place wins 8 Tokens. Second Place wins 6 Token. Third Place Wins 4 Token Rules: Write a microfiction or flashfiction story (around 500 words) that uses this prompt provided by Angel: Make an ordinary thing monstrous. The story can be any genre, fiction or non-fiction. Generally the more imaginative the better, but a well written and edited story is most important. When completed post it on Minds. MAKE SURE you Tag me in, so I will see it. Also you should use the tag #WeeklyWritingContest it will help others find your work, including me if you forgot the tag. You may add a picture if you like. Every genre is welcome. The winner and runner ups will be picked by me on Wednesday around noon (Eastern standard time). You'll get your token, and I'll remind your story with a congratulations. If you would like to help out, feel free to remind this message, along with any entries you like. If you wish to donate tokens, send them to me with a message, or comment here, that they are for the contest. I will use them to increase the prizes, for this and future contests, and do some more boosts. Good Luck And a special thanks to these fine people who donated tokens to the contest. @horuslvx @fickleflame @marvaden @1wrench4me
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More from Daniel and Angel

And our 1st place winner for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Los Angeles by @mattwaterhouseauthor. Everything about this story works. The hellish city, the uncaring people, it comes to life as you read it. Creepy, nihilistic, with a touch of the eldritch. You have to read it.
Los Angeles was a leviathan like creature, swallowing interlopers whole by the tens of thousands. One of those interlopers was me. I tried to wander to the sea, to get my bearings more than anything else, but the streets and alleyways blended together into a maze of concrete that led to more concrete. I slept in one alleyway after another, awoken by gunshots or the screech of tires, wallowing in the stink of excrement and rotten food. My aimless walks became desperate. The people I begged for help treated me as if I was invisible, with their perfumed designer clothes and brightly coloured hair drowning out my pleas. Those that acknowledged me looked at me like a stain, one that needed to be scrubbed away as soon as possible. I don't know where I was when the hands took me and pulled me into the darkness, Every part of this horror of a city looked the same. Every meagre thing I had was taken from me. Sleeping bag. Money, not that I had much. Coat. Shoes. Clothes. Everything. I cough, awake maybe. I can't tell much of anything now. The man opposite me slurs his words. I can smell him. His clothes are misshapen brown and gray rags. No shoes, no teeth. Brown crusts around his eyes and nostrils and the corner of his mouth. I might have met him before. Every face in this darkness seems as dead as the rest. His seems even more so. The pain begins to shoot through me again, and I fumble for the only cure ... around here somewhere ... must be ... He cackles wildly. "Lookin' for somethin', boy?" His eyes bulge from his head as he howls at me. "Y'not know where y'are?" he shrieks. I cut my hands on glass shards and rusty cans as I scramble towards him like some kind of mad infant. The pain makes me even angrier, which makes it flare even more through my every synapse. I shriek at him, but I can't drown his laughter out. My hands do. Even then, he doesn't stop laughing at me, and his face ends up fixed in a permanent grin. No-one tries to stop me, but one person watches me with huge, green eyes. He's bald, and thin, more skeleton than man. "In this city, they don't believe hell's a real place," he rasps. I stare at him. "It's because they're in it," he grunt. "They can't see it. It's here, all around them. What else would you call it?" His expression doesn't change. "You're new here." I nod. "They lied to get you here, didn't they. Same as everyone else in this place. Probably the same lie." I nod again. He doesn't move. "Welcome to hell." @danielandangel #weeklywritingcontest WC=four hundred and something
1.19k views ·
Our 2nd place story for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Lu's Legal Consultation, by @molly_b. A fantastic comedic story, where a vampire faces down Lucifer with a spray bottle. Who can ask for more. If you need a laugh, read it. In fact even if you don't need a laugh, read it.
#weeklywritingcontest @danielandangel Lu’s Legal Consultation “Excuse me, young man. Are you Damien?” a small old lady asks me. “I was told to find you.” I nod. “How can I help, Ma’am?” “Ah, well I was just about to pop into my daughter’s craft store for some things and the shop...changed. I decided not to go in. It looked dangerous.” “Is your daughter human or entity?” “Human. It wasn’t the normal weirdness you see here, either. The doorway burst into flames and the shop turned into, what did the sign say, ‘Lu’s Legal Consultation’. It was very peculiar. I hope my daughter is okay.” I tilt my head. “I’m familiar with this... phenomenon, Ma’am. Thank you for telling me. Where did you say your daughter’s shop was?” She points, and I spy it instantly. Hard not to notice the bloodred lighting and fiery wallpaper. “I’ll handle this. You should stay here.” I make my way over, stopping briefly at a florist’s to ask for a spray bottle of water. One mention of “Lu’s” showing up and she’s eager to lend it to me. She knows what Lu is short for. I enter the legal consultant’s office and the iron door slams shut, barring me in. A man in a swivel chair lets out a menacing chuckle and spins slowly to meet me. “Another day, another sucker. Greetings, customer! Welcome to hell—*o*, vampire.” He deflates mid-sentence, grin shrinking as he notices my pale face and pointed teeth. I smile at the disappointment in his voice. He can’t get my soul because I don’t have one. He learned that last time. I’m here to waste his time and pester him until an exorcist gets here, or he goes away on his own. If he’s dealing with me, he can’t trick any humans into signing his contracts. “Back again, Lucifer?” I ask. “Shocking. I don’t remember you having a permit, *or* the owner’s permission to set up shop here.” “I don’t see what’s wrong with my business. I’m an honest American, just trying to make a living with the talents I was gifted with. I help relieve people of their burdens.” “You swindle souls from people.” “Some find the soul to be quite burdensome.” I squirt him in the face with the spray bottle. He wipes it, spitting mad. “You jerk! You can’t even let me get *one* soul for my troubles?” “*Nyet.*” I soak him again. “Oh, come *on*. I’ve had *so* much legal trouble lately, I don’t need this! First it’s jumping through a million hoops just to get the blasted business permit, then I have to deal with some federal health inspector who’s judgier than the Big Guy Himself, who says ‘oh, you can’t have a fiery pit leading to the belly of the underworld unless there’s a *railing*, it can’t be more than four feet *deep*,’ and he’s writing me fines, and I’m just having an all-around bad time being an entrepreneur, now I have to deal with *you?* Ugh! I’m sending you the bill for this dry cleaning, by the way. I smell like plant fertilizer.” I click the button on my radio. “Hey Dave, call a priest. We’ll need the entire west wing exorcized. Maybe also get a pacifier for Lu, here. He’s having a bad day.” The devil starts to protest, and I silence him with more squirts to the face. “Low blow, Damien!” he shouts. “For being centuries old, you are *so* immature!” Dave’s voice crackles through. “Priest’s on his way. I’ve got the Vatican on the line now. They say we can press charges this time!” “Really? Nice!” I turn back to see steam rising from Lu’s tailored suit. “Oh no. Angry, Lu? I think you need to cool down.” I squirt again. He roars in fury, completely unable to do anything. It’s hysterical. “You are *so* bad for business!” “You noticed! Good for you, have a cookie.” I hand him one of the individually wrapped cookies he has in a bowl on his desk. Used to lure little children into his trap. “See you in court, fertilizer-face.” He clenches his fists and his hands shake. He’s imagining himself throttling me. I squirt again. He yelps and covers his eyes, then the entire consultation office fades and I’m standing next to a display of decorative paper. “He’s gone,” I report. “That was fun. Well, back to work.”
1.15k views ·
The 3rd place story for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Jonah's Awakening by @tnixk. They've improved a lot since they first entered the contest, and now they have a story which has a little bit of everything, emotion, action, a bit of suspense, and they've fixed up their earlier problems. Give it a read, I think they have a lot of potential.
Jonah’s Awakening @danielandangel #weeklywritingcontest Words: 660 It’s 4733, humans are space -faring and at war with each other, after 2000 years of peace. Two warring factions raid the neutral colonies across the solar system. I am Jonah, a Child of the Corps. When I was five my colony was raided, I was rescued and raised by the Angel corps; the only force protecting the colonies. The first Angel, Nix, discovered the Artefacts and unknowingly participated in The Ritual. She survived The Ritual, became an Angel and was the first to Awaken. Angels already possess enhanced abilities, but an Awakened Angel glows and can manifest their thoughts into reality. Today, Isabella and I went through The Ritual, and emerged as Angels. After 12 years of mental, physical and spiritual training; we prevailed. I met Isabella moments after my rescue; her colony was raided by the opposing faction. Since then, we have been inseparable. After The Ritual, we received our Artefacts and our first assignment; to secure a raided colony. My Artefact was a golden armlet, it felt alive, vibrating gently. Our skiff landed on the outskirts of the colony, smoke billowing into the night sky. Isabella nodded to me and took her squad to the southside of the colony. She walked off, swords smacking her legs as she went. We swept the northside. No survivors or raiders yet. I hoped Isabella was okay. We entered the final building and my artefact began to pulsate. It was dark and empty; I heard an explosion to the south. Isabella! I signaled to leave. Suddenly, the doors shut and lights flashed on, revealing thirty raiders all charged up and ready to fire. “Toss it! Angel-scum!” the leader commanded, a familiar tone. I drew my halberd. A ghastly smile cracked across the leader’s face. “Who gave you that scar boy!?” he bellowed, my heart stopped; he seemed familiar. Memories flashed into my mind. My mother and father carved up splattered across the floor, that man, his smile, his voice. “Welcome to hell.” He snarled before scarring my face and stabbing me; leaving me to die. My grip tightened. “Did I strike a nerve boy?!!” he cackled. My Artefact was tightly squeezing my arm. Screw this guy! He killed my parents! The leader raised his hand, signaling to his men. My fighters stirred, looking to me for guidance, everything was moving slowly now. He threw down his hand, his mouth spitting “Fire!” No, not like this, not again. All my pain, my rage, my essence surged to my solar-plexus. The Artefact was abuzz; wriggling into the flesh of my arm, fusing with me. I screamed out from the depths of my soul; energy bursting out from my heart. I burned like the sun. The raider’s weapons fire was swept away in the maelstrom of my Awakening. The leader’s face twisted in terror, I glowered at him and he gurgled into a writhing puddle of flesh, bone and marrow. I slashed my halberd toward the rest, an energy arc erupted from my swing; obliterating them. “To Isabella!” I ordered. While half-way through the colony square, we encountered Isabella and her squadron. She was a-light, her Artefact uncovered, a gleaming silver choker, dark curls bouncing as she turned to look at me. “Jonah! You’ve Awakened!” she exclaimed. Her leathers were torn at the bust and hip. “What the hell happened?” I asked gesturing toward it. She frowned at it and it mended itself. “Better?” she snapped, annoyed. A great beam shot down next to us, shaking the ground. It was Nix. She was blazing brightly; we bowed our heads. “You two are the very first Children of the Corps. You can submit your reports later.” She floated up. “Come, you are Awakened now, no need for the skiff.” The skiff came down for our squadrons. Isabella and I channeled our energy and began to float. Nix smiled; a sight rarely seen. She blasted off towards her ship, we followed, burning streaks across the sky. _____________________________ May do a personal piece regarding The Ritual. . Hope this is an improvement editing wise.
1.19k views ·

More from Daniel and Angel

And our 1st place winner for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Los Angeles by @mattwaterhouseauthor. Everything about this story works. The hellish city, the uncaring people, it comes to life as you read it. Creepy, nihilistic, with a touch of the eldritch. You have to read it.
Los Angeles was a leviathan like creature, swallowing interlopers whole by the tens of thousands. One of those interlopers was me. I tried to wander to the sea, to get my bearings more than anything else, but the streets and alleyways blended together into a maze of concrete that led to more concrete. I slept in one alleyway after another, awoken by gunshots or the screech of tires, wallowing in the stink of excrement and rotten food. My aimless walks became desperate. The people I begged for help treated me as if I was invisible, with their perfumed designer clothes and brightly coloured hair drowning out my pleas. Those that acknowledged me looked at me like a stain, one that needed to be scrubbed away as soon as possible. I don't know where I was when the hands took me and pulled me into the darkness, Every part of this horror of a city looked the same. Every meagre thing I had was taken from me. Sleeping bag. Money, not that I had much. Coat. Shoes. Clothes. Everything. I cough, awake maybe. I can't tell much of anything now. The man opposite me slurs his words. I can smell him. His clothes are misshapen brown and gray rags. No shoes, no teeth. Brown crusts around his eyes and nostrils and the corner of his mouth. I might have met him before. Every face in this darkness seems as dead as the rest. His seems even more so. The pain begins to shoot through me again, and I fumble for the only cure ... around here somewhere ... must be ... He cackles wildly. "Lookin' for somethin', boy?" His eyes bulge from his head as he howls at me. "Y'not know where y'are?" he shrieks. I cut my hands on glass shards and rusty cans as I scramble towards him like some kind of mad infant. The pain makes me even angrier, which makes it flare even more through my every synapse. I shriek at him, but I can't drown his laughter out. My hands do. Even then, he doesn't stop laughing at me, and his face ends up fixed in a permanent grin. No-one tries to stop me, but one person watches me with huge, green eyes. He's bald, and thin, more skeleton than man. "In this city, they don't believe hell's a real place," he rasps. I stare at him. "It's because they're in it," he grunt. "They can't see it. It's here, all around them. What else would you call it?" His expression doesn't change. "You're new here." I nod. "They lied to get you here, didn't they. Same as everyone else in this place. Probably the same lie." I nod again. He doesn't move. "Welcome to hell." @danielandangel #weeklywritingcontest WC=four hundred and something
1.19k views ·
Our 2nd place story for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Lu's Legal Consultation, by @molly_b. A fantastic comedic story, where a vampire faces down Lucifer with a spray bottle. Who can ask for more. If you need a laugh, read it. In fact even if you don't need a laugh, read it.
#weeklywritingcontest @danielandangel Lu’s Legal Consultation “Excuse me, young man. Are you Damien?” a small old lady asks me. “I was told to find you.” I nod. “How can I help, Ma’am?” “Ah, well I was just about to pop into my daughter’s craft store for some things and the shop...changed. I decided not to go in. It looked dangerous.” “Is your daughter human or entity?” “Human. It wasn’t the normal weirdness you see here, either. The doorway burst into flames and the shop turned into, what did the sign say, ‘Lu’s Legal Consultation’. It was very peculiar. I hope my daughter is okay.” I tilt my head. “I’m familiar with this... phenomenon, Ma’am. Thank you for telling me. Where did you say your daughter’s shop was?” She points, and I spy it instantly. Hard not to notice the bloodred lighting and fiery wallpaper. “I’ll handle this. You should stay here.” I make my way over, stopping briefly at a florist’s to ask for a spray bottle of water. One mention of “Lu’s” showing up and she’s eager to lend it to me. She knows what Lu is short for. I enter the legal consultant’s office and the iron door slams shut, barring me in. A man in a swivel chair lets out a menacing chuckle and spins slowly to meet me. “Another day, another sucker. Greetings, customer! Welcome to hell—*o*, vampire.” He deflates mid-sentence, grin shrinking as he notices my pale face and pointed teeth. I smile at the disappointment in his voice. He can’t get my soul because I don’t have one. He learned that last time. I’m here to waste his time and pester him until an exorcist gets here, or he goes away on his own. If he’s dealing with me, he can’t trick any humans into signing his contracts. “Back again, Lucifer?” I ask. “Shocking. I don’t remember you having a permit, *or* the owner’s permission to set up shop here.” “I don’t see what’s wrong with my business. I’m an honest American, just trying to make a living with the talents I was gifted with. I help relieve people of their burdens.” “You swindle souls from people.” “Some find the soul to be quite burdensome.” I squirt him in the face with the spray bottle. He wipes it, spitting mad. “You jerk! You can’t even let me get *one* soul for my troubles?” “*Nyet.*” I soak him again. “Oh, come *on*. I’ve had *so* much legal trouble lately, I don’t need this! First it’s jumping through a million hoops just to get the blasted business permit, then I have to deal with some federal health inspector who’s judgier than the Big Guy Himself, who says ‘oh, you can’t have a fiery pit leading to the belly of the underworld unless there’s a *railing*, it can’t be more than four feet *deep*,’ and he’s writing me fines, and I’m just having an all-around bad time being an entrepreneur, now I have to deal with *you?* Ugh! I’m sending you the bill for this dry cleaning, by the way. I smell like plant fertilizer.” I click the button on my radio. “Hey Dave, call a priest. We’ll need the entire west wing exorcized. Maybe also get a pacifier for Lu, here. He’s having a bad day.” The devil starts to protest, and I silence him with more squirts to the face. “Low blow, Damien!” he shouts. “For being centuries old, you are *so* immature!” Dave’s voice crackles through. “Priest’s on his way. I’ve got the Vatican on the line now. They say we can press charges this time!” “Really? Nice!” I turn back to see steam rising from Lu’s tailored suit. “Oh no. Angry, Lu? I think you need to cool down.” I squirt again. He roars in fury, completely unable to do anything. It’s hysterical. “You are *so* bad for business!” “You noticed! Good for you, have a cookie.” I hand him one of the individually wrapped cookies he has in a bowl on his desk. Used to lure little children into his trap. “See you in court, fertilizer-face.” He clenches his fists and his hands shake. He’s imagining himself throttling me. I squirt again. He yelps and covers his eyes, then the entire consultation office fades and I’m standing next to a display of decorative paper. “He’s gone,” I report. “That was fun. Well, back to work.”
1.15k views ·
The 3rd place story for the #WeeklyWritingContest is Jonah's Awakening by @tnixk. They've improved a lot since they first entered the contest, and now they have a story which has a little bit of everything, emotion, action, a bit of suspense, and they've fixed up their earlier problems. Give it a read, I think they have a lot of potential.
Jonah’s Awakening @danielandangel #weeklywritingcontest Words: 660 It’s 4733, humans are space -faring and at war with each other, after 2000 years of peace. Two warring factions raid the neutral colonies across the solar system. I am Jonah, a Child of the Corps. When I was five my colony was raided, I was rescued and raised by the Angel corps; the only force protecting the colonies. The first Angel, Nix, discovered the Artefacts and unknowingly participated in The Ritual. She survived The Ritual, became an Angel and was the first to Awaken. Angels already possess enhanced abilities, but an Awakened Angel glows and can manifest their thoughts into reality. Today, Isabella and I went through The Ritual, and emerged as Angels. After 12 years of mental, physical and spiritual training; we prevailed. I met Isabella moments after my rescue; her colony was raided by the opposing faction. Since then, we have been inseparable. After The Ritual, we received our Artefacts and our first assignment; to secure a raided colony. My Artefact was a golden armlet, it felt alive, vibrating gently. Our skiff landed on the outskirts of the colony, smoke billowing into the night sky. Isabella nodded to me and took her squad to the southside of the colony. She walked off, swords smacking her legs as she went. We swept the northside. No survivors or raiders yet. I hoped Isabella was okay. We entered the final building and my artefact began to pulsate. It was dark and empty; I heard an explosion to the south. Isabella! I signaled to leave. Suddenly, the doors shut and lights flashed on, revealing thirty raiders all charged up and ready to fire. “Toss it! Angel-scum!” the leader commanded, a familiar tone. I drew my halberd. A ghastly smile cracked across the leader’s face. “Who gave you that scar boy!?” he bellowed, my heart stopped; he seemed familiar. Memories flashed into my mind. My mother and father carved up splattered across the floor, that man, his smile, his voice. “Welcome to hell.” He snarled before scarring my face and stabbing me; leaving me to die. My grip tightened. “Did I strike a nerve boy?!!” he cackled. My Artefact was tightly squeezing my arm. Screw this guy! He killed my parents! The leader raised his hand, signaling to his men. My fighters stirred, looking to me for guidance, everything was moving slowly now. He threw down his hand, his mouth spitting “Fire!” No, not like this, not again. All my pain, my rage, my essence surged to my solar-plexus. The Artefact was abuzz; wriggling into the flesh of my arm, fusing with me. I screamed out from the depths of my soul; energy bursting out from my heart. I burned like the sun. The raider’s weapons fire was swept away in the maelstrom of my Awakening. The leader’s face twisted in terror, I glowered at him and he gurgled into a writhing puddle of flesh, bone and marrow. I slashed my halberd toward the rest, an energy arc erupted from my swing; obliterating them. “To Isabella!” I ordered. While half-way through the colony square, we encountered Isabella and her squadron. She was a-light, her Artefact uncovered, a gleaming silver choker, dark curls bouncing as she turned to look at me. “Jonah! You’ve Awakened!” she exclaimed. Her leathers were torn at the bust and hip. “What the hell happened?” I asked gesturing toward it. She frowned at it and it mended itself. “Better?” she snapped, annoyed. A great beam shot down next to us, shaking the ground. It was Nix. She was blazing brightly; we bowed our heads. “You two are the very first Children of the Corps. You can submit your reports later.” She floated up. “Come, you are Awakened now, no need for the skiff.” The skiff came down for our squadrons. Isabella and I channeled our energy and began to float. Nix smiled; a sight rarely seen. She blasted off towards her ship, we followed, burning streaks across the sky. _____________________________ May do a personal piece regarding The Ritual. . Hope this is an improvement editing wise.
1.19k views ·