A contest with a pot of 3 @steembasicincome shares + SBD payout, where everyone wins? You're in the right place!
54 @steembasicincome shares + 20.588 SBD awarded till now through the contest!
Who's @dirge? (from the author's mouth)
Short info about me:
I’m currently editing my first sci-fi novel and plan to pursue that arduous journey of finding a literary agent. Steemit is a way for me to connect, share writing exercises, far-left political shit and my ongoing podcast series, The Forlorn Realm.
Much love to all of you, and may the Crypto Gods be in your favor.
I recommend you all to visit his Steemit account and personal website for some stories that will surely keep you awake by night and, at the same time, enthusiast.
You all will be featured and have the possibility to write the weekly prompt, this contest is not mine but OURS!
Trying to post your story the earliest possible and not at the last moment! Publishing early is going to give it more visibility within the contest community and a higher chance for it to be appreciated and upvoted!
Vote your favorite story (..help me it's becoming harder and harder to choose!)
Things that please the Bananafish mighty god!
- Sustain, comment and upvote each other as a true group of friends and fiction lovers.
- Respect the 500 words limit.
- Post in your blog instead than in the comment section.
- help our contest & workshop to grow by giving it some visibility.
And now.. let's dive into today's story!
LER
If Elissa was going to kill Cornel, this would be it. Isolated in a wood cabin in southeast Limousin, the cult leader went underground with only a handful of followers. The governments of Europe and the world ripped their countries apart in their search for Cornelius Smith, Grand Spiritual Leader of the cult, LER, or, Last Epiphanic Religion. Not only for orchestrating assassinations of public figures, torture or money laundering. Above all, they wanted answers.
Two days before, hundreds of LER followers gathered in major cities across the globe. At precisely seven o’clock at night, they doused themselves in gasoline and committed mass, self-immolation. The gruesome acts were broadcast live on television and social media. It was an act of existential defiance the world had never seen before.
Caught wholly unprepared, police attempted to intervene. They couldn't save a single one. For the moment the flames caught, the followers, to the last woman, disappeared. They left behind only the smell of gasoline.
Supernatural events are best left to imagination or nightmares. Now, the whole world had borne witness to something beyond its understanding.
Elissa got the word from her CIA handler.
Neutralize the target.
Could she? Even if she got past the others, there were questions. Questions that never should be spoken out loud, gnawing at her insides like a tumor with teeth.
They sat around the table, each of them armed with a forty-five at the hip per LER security-protocol. Cornelius relaxed, almost asleep, his long Jesus hair curling around his shoulders. O.M.’s arms folded like a meditating gorilla. Denis Labbat, a man Elissa’d never met, stared at the old wooden clock on the wall. He hadn’t moved, not even blinked since she’d entered the room. If his chest hadn’t heaved as evidence of his breathing, she’d assume the skeletal dark-haired Frenchman was dead. Margeux Blanc, LER’s Paris head, sat restless. Unable to stop her leg from shaking, the woman’s fingers rattled on the wooden table. She glanced at the clock, at Denis and Cornelius, then the windows and back to the clock. Elissa followed her gaze. Outside, the noon sun burned down the gorgeous French woodlands of Limousin.
Cornelius leaned forward. “Our five minutes of silence has reached its climax.” He said.
Denis gazed at the clock.
“What thoughts have you conceived in that time?” Cornelius asked. Elissa met his gaze. Cornel’s eyes were a radiant blue. “Margeux?” he said, not breaking his stare at Elissa. “What do you fear?”
“N-nothing,” Margeux replied. “I’m ready, Grand Spiritual Leader.”
“And you, O.M.?”
The bodyguard grunted.
“Denis?” he asked.
“Almost time.”
“And, you, Elissa? Are you prepared for the meeting?”
The clock struck noon.
The room went dark.
Elissa turned to the windows. Black. Sunless. A void.
Dennis, his bones rattling from his first movement, lit a candle.
Someone knocked at the door like a funeral drum.
“Elissa,” Cornelius said. “Why don’t you greet our visitor?”
I must be drugged, she thought. His eyes are red.
Join the fun! Here is how this contest works:
An unfinished fiction story or a script is posted.
You finish it with your own post or a comment in the comment section. A limit of 500 words is recommended.
YOU WIN! 3 @steembasicincome shares to the writers with the best ending + SBD payout between all the participants who won't get one of the 3 shares.
The result will be out on Monday 18th June, 14:00 PM - two o' clock in the afternoon California time zone. Submission deadline: Monday 18th June, 12:00 PM - noon, California time zone
The @bananafish has come between us!
