Spooky Story Challenge 2018 + Voting Results

Halloween is almost upon us, which means it's time for a creepy tale! Every year on her blog, Jenelle Schmidt holds this challenge of sorts, where we write spooky stories--as the name of the challenge suggests--following whatever parameters she sets. This year, it's a flash fiction that must be a thousand words or less. (If you know me, you'll also know I had to cut a bit thanks to my excessive word vomiting.) I was able to sit down and write it in one shot, which I absolutely loved.

Now remember, if this is something you're interested in, you only have until the end of the month to link up to Jenelle's blog. I'm sure we'd all love to read whatever chilling story you have cooking in your brain, so feel free to join in the fun. I'll be sharing mine with you guys, but first, it's time to reveal the results of the polls.

To quickly bring you up to speed, last week I held polls to determine the genre, POV, and protagonist gender for my "choose your own adventure" series I'm starting in the beginning of 2019, which still doesn't have a name. And the winning results are . . .

Fantasy, first-person, male!

Thanks to everyone who voted on here and on Twitter. I'm really hoping that this venture goes well, so I appreciate all the support you've already given me. It's gonna be fun!

And now, it's time for the spooks! I may have borrowed Deborah O'Carroll's idea for the title card, so . . . thanks, Deb!

“We shouldn’t be here.”

Callum blew over a bookshelf, and dust spiraled into the air. “So you’ve said, but no one’s been here for ages. It’s not like they’re going to stop us.”

Brody stamped his foot on the grungy carpet. “Trespassing is illegal, you know.”

“Dude, have you no sense of adventure?” Callum shook his head and pocketed a ring set with a large diamond.

“Great, now we’ll be thieves as well.”

“Shut up.” Brushing past his friend, Callum headed deeper into the house—well, perhaps mansion was a better term to use. Every day, he saw its clock tower poking above the trees, and every day, it beckoned him. How could he resist forever? The only thing he regretted was dragging Brody with him.

Floorboards growled their displeasure ever so often. Critters scrambled away from his marching feet, and more dust sprang to life. The furniture and décor appeared to be a blend of the Victorian and Gothic styles. And there was clockwork.

Lots and lots of clockwork.

Clicking, clacking, clunking.

Brody raced to join him. “Where are you headed?”

“Where do you think? The central tower.”

“You must be crazy, heading to the most obvious location in a haunted house. Have you never watched any horror movies or played any spooky games? You’re literally one of those idiot main characters right now.”

Callum raised an eyebrow. “What do you think we’re gonna find? Specters? Wendigoes? Headless horsemen?”

“I think we should let the dead rest.”

“No one said anything about anyone being dead. Have you not noticed the footprints that are less dusty than the rest of the floor? Others have been here before.”

“Yeah, but where are they now?” Brody folded his arms in an almost-triumphant fashion.

Electing to ignore his friend’s overcautious nature, Callum stepped into a large circular room. In the center stood the base of the clock tower, a stone door giving entry to the stairwell. He walked toward it, ignoring the rest of the room. Brody piped up, “Callum, look.”

Callum halted in his tracks and turned to where Brody was pointing. A single portrait hung on the wall, ivy ensnaring its edges. A man, decked out in an old-fashioned conductor’s uniform, stood stiffly in front of a steam locomotive from the late 1800s. A woman and three children gathered around him.

“It’s creepy,” Brody whispered.

Callum rolled his eyes, then stared at the picture again. The more he looked at it, the more something unnerving clenched his spine. He shrugged it off. “Just a family photo. Nothing to see here.” He walked to the stairwell door, albeit a little quicker, and threw it open. “C’mon.”

Brody joined him in the ascension, leaving the door wide open. The stairs were surprisingly sturdy after years of no usage. They swirled higher and higher, hugging the wall the entire time. Callum led the way, Brody right at his heels.

Midway up, they heard a faint thud. Both of them paused mid-step, and Callum glanced down in an attempt to see the door. He couldn’t, but what he did notice was the complete lack of dust in this section of the mansion. Perhaps Brody was right to say we shouldn’t have come. There’s no way he’d admit that, though. He cleared his throat. “Must’ve been the clock’s gears. Let’s keep moving.”

Brody gulped and nodded.

Minutes later, they reached the top. All around them, the clockwork ticked and tocked, a mechanical masterpiece that stood the test of time. Besides that, there was nothing of note, save a large bell that hung from the ceiling. A single rope dangled tantalizingly, connected to the bell.

“Okay, we’ve seen it,” Brody said. “Now let’s head home before our parents get worried.”

“Not yet. There’s one last thing to do.” Callum strode to the rope.

“Oh, don’t you dare.” Brody held out his hand. “If there’s one I’ve learned from the horror genre, it’s that you don’t—”

Callum yanked the rope.

“—do that.” Brody took a step back.

The bell rang out, a crisp peal that echoed all around. And that was it. Everything was silent after.

Callum laughed. “So much for that.” Then it hit him.

Everything was silent.

That’s when the dull noise struck. It reverberated in the back of his skull, making his teeth ache. The floor shook beneath his feet, and a whistle howled.

“What did you do, Callum?!” Brody yelled.

The sound was getting louder. Callum clenched the sides of his head. “I didn’t—”

The far wall exploded in a blast of machinery and stone debris. A midnight-black locomotive barreled straight at them. The wheels ground into the wooden floor, throwing shards everywhere. Its engine roared like a burning devil.

Callum stood frozen. The cacophony glued him in place, unable to break his gaze from that wretched invention of demise seconds away from crushing every bone in his body.

Brody tackled him just in time. The train whipped past them, brakes screeching. Faster than any normal locomotive, it stopped right before breaking through the other wall.

The duo lay there, panting in fright. “What the actual frick?” Callum gasped.

A coach door slid open, revealing the conductor from the portrait. Except he wasn’t the same. His eyes glowed like smoldering embers; his skin was smooth metal, matching the color of the engine. His teeth were like that of a gear, and smoke swirled up and down his body.

“You . . . you’re connected to the train,” Brody said.

“Tickets, please,” the conductor hissed, the sound pinching Callum’s eardrums.

“We don’t have any,” he replied shakily.

“In that case . . .” The man whipped out two clock hands with chains attached to the pointed ends. He snapped them forward, and the chains looped around Callum’s and Brody’s wrists. He grinned. “Welcome aboard the Hellrider.”

“No!” Callum cried.

The conductor yanked the clock hands back, and Callum was thrown into the train.

Plunged into a world of mechanical death.

Well, what're your thoughts? Are you thoroughly spooked? I'd actually love to make this a full novel sometime--as if I needed more ideas. Any suggestions/constructive criticism for if I were to do so?

Spooky Nostalgia /// Music Monday #35

It's time for another spooky song, seeing as Halloween is next week. Are you ready for it?

Today's music is . . .

"Halloween Party 2012 Main Room Theme" from Club Penguin

Composed by ???

Okay, this is more nostalgic than it is genuinely creepy. (In fact, it's not really all that creepy.) It was originally from Club Penguin, used in every Halloween party that I can remember. After Disney decided to shut down the original flash game, which I think was a poor decision, a team of people recreated the game, now calling it Club Penguin Rewritten.

I imagine that at least a few of you reading this have played CP, but if you haven't, it was a free-to-play MMO where you created your own penguin to play games, participate in fun parties, and hang out with others. Before we had more computers in our house than just the family one, my sisters and I would go to the library and rent computers for an hour to play CP together. We'd often come up with these fun little stories, complete with changing our penguins' clothes to look the part. It was always a fun time.

I'm actually quite sad that Disney decided to move to the pay-to-play camp with Club Penguin Island, their project that replaced CP. You have to really have a great game to convince people to pay for memberships, and CPI just wasn't that game. That's probably why they're shutting it down too, a disappointing end to an amazing franchise.

But anyway, you didn't come to hear me rant about CP. But if you've never played the game, this music probably won't be terribly interesting to you. That's not at all saying it's bad outside of the context of the game, but having that experience with the music in the actual game . . . I dunno. It adds to the experience of it, I suppose.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this little song! Did you ever play Club Penguin? Have you tried the recreated version? What'd you think of the music?

The Perfection of Imperfection

Last year, when a few of my buddies and I went to watch Justice League to celebrate my birthday, we had an interesting discussion on the way there. We were talking about CW's The Flash, and one of my friends interjected, "I'm tired of Barry making the same mistake over and over again. Why doesn't he learn?"

I argued, "Well, that's what we tend to do. We're often repeating our mistakes, even though we know the consequences."

His response shocked me: "But I don't want him to be like that. I want to be inspired by him to do better."

"But then he's not relatable," I said. "If he's not making mistakes, how're we supposed to identify with him?"

source

I don't remember how the rest of the conversation panned out, but some writers (myself included) create a character who never messes up. Actually, based on what little I've planned about the new Portal Chronicles over the last few years, David is an example of this. He has no flaws; he's a "perfect" Christian. The others look up to him, but I realize now that readers look up to characters who are imperfect, yet do their best to do the right thing in spite of their brokenness.

See, the whole issue is a bit of a paradox. An imperfect character is the perfect one to use in a story, while a perfect character is the opposite. We as authors need to always be careful of this.

Let me give you an example. Suppose I have two characters, Ryan and Drake. Ryan is the embodiment of an unrealistic human. He never messes up. No temptation is a challenge for him; never does he stray in any regard. Drake, on the other hand, knows he's screws up. He makes bad choices. He succumbs to temptation; he tries his best to do right, but sometimes he does the wrong thing to get there.

Both set out on a journey to save their world from an evil power that has completely taken over. This villain ensures that the men encounter foes, lusts, and other traps along the way. Ryan breezes through. He recognizes those who pretend to be on his side and doesn't befriend them. When he is offered bountiful wealth, power, or satisfaction, he always turns them down. He bests the villain and saves the world.

Drake is in more of a pickle. He's vowed to always do what's right, but that doesn't mean he never wavers. He trusts the wrong people and ends up in deep trouble that costs him in some form or another. He considers taking the proffered power, as it might mean he can betray the villain when said antagonist doesn't expect it. But it might also hurt his integrity, or he might never want to lose that power. He turns down wealth and satisfaction, but it can be difficult sometime. Finally, after crawling through his deepest darkness and fighting off his worst demons, he manages to break the evil that has captured the land.

Tell me: at the end of the day, what're readers going to be appreciate more? Frankly, I don't think they would even bother finishing Ryan's story, that's how uninteresting it is. But we want to see the hero struggle and mess up, because we can never make the correct choices in life. Sometimes we give in to our temptations. So when the protagonist is imperfect and still strives to do good, we are inspired and look up to them.

Now, there can sometimes be a fine line between imperfection and immoral, so we need to make sure we establish that division. Of course, you can always go for a redemption story, but then you need to make sure that the character's change is believable. Captain Brixton in Maelstrom, a pirate story of mine, is an example of this. He becomes obsessed with a very precious diamond, to the point that he values it more than his crew, who are like family to him. It takes a monstrosity threatening the empire and the death of a crewmember to shake him from his ill state. Does that mean he's perfect right away? No, it's something he has to work on, and he's going to be challenged along the way. And that's what makes him interesting.

source

You also have to be aware that not everyone is a fan of the imperfect character, even when that's the best type of protagonist. This is evident in Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Heartless. Because it's an allegory of Jesus establishing a relationship with us, Princess Una represents us. And let me tell you, she makes plenty of mistakes. This book actually got a lot of hate because of her. Just look up reviews and see how many people rail on her, not realizing that she is the ambassador for their imperfect nature. Mrs. Stengl wrote her that way for a reason, and they don't seem to understand that. But just because you might have a few haters for choosing that route does not mean you shouldn't.

To conclude, I'll bring it back to the example of Barry. He's often told not to mess with time, and he still does, even when seeing the disastrous consequences. Maybe it's the heat of a moment, or maybe his emotions are rampaging. Or perhaps he's like us and sometimes forgets just how bad things went down last time he made the same decision. At the end of the day, he tries to make things right, protect his loved ones, and save Central City from any threat that rises up. That is why he is such an amazing protagonist.

Never forget the power of the imperfect character.

This was a bit out of the blue, wasn't it? I figured I should do more writing tips on here, even if they might be kind of obvious. What'd you think of this post? Was it new for you, a good reminder, or something you'd never use? Let's discuss in the comments!