The Forbidden Door (2571 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.55 on 84 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Uber Madness 2004 (View user info) at 2004-12-03 16:20:33 EST
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Entry 1
A mind is a house with many floorsWith memories behind its doors
So many doors within a mind
Open one, see what you find
Joshua Brickman repeated the rhyme the psychiatrist had taught him, anything to drown out the sounds of voices rising in anger, the voice of the sheriff and his father.
"Listen, Brickman. I may not have enough evidence to go down there and search that shit hole you call a farm, but I know what you did. Sooner or later, you're going to make a mistake and you're going to find your ass at Coleman Correctional, waiting for the needle."
"Really? Well guess what, you tin-star-toting backwoods pigfucker? You ain't going to find shit. You ain't going to catch me slippin' up, you ain't going to catch me doing nothing, because the bitch left town. Up and packed her bags and left in the middle of the night. I been fucking telling you that for two weeks now, and you ain't heard a fuckin' thing I've said. You drag me down here, drag my boy down here after he's been hurt, you put a fuckin' headshrinker on him, and he ain't said shit, because there ain't shit to say. His cunt of a mother left him and left me, ran out on the both of us, probably cause she's a man-hating dyke. I know I ain't seen the inside of her legs in two years. That why you upset, sheriff-man? You got to go back to the sheep now that the whore's blown town?"
Joshua covered his ears as his father and the sheriff argued back and forth. There had been too much yelling in the past few weeks, far too much yelling, mostly by his father. Something had happened, he had been injured somehow, and when he returned from the misty nether realm of oblivion to wake up in a hospital bed, his concussion fading and his fractured jaw healing, he found one of the "doors" in his mind locked, with no memory forthcoming.
"You just watch your fucking step, Brickman. I'm going to be all over you, just you wait and see. I'm going to be watching you all damn day and night," Sheriff Price's face was red with anger. Joshua noticed the lawman's hand hovering over his nightstick.
"Listen asshole, next time you want to fuck with something, you just find yourself a knothole, grease it up nice and fuck with that instead of calling me. Next time I get dragged down to your fucking stationhouse without a warrant, I'm on the phone to my lawyer. I'll own that new patrol car of yours, your shotgun, and probably the flock that your girlfriend is in. Think about that before you fuck with me again, you limp-dick noodle. C'mon Josh."
Gray Brickman closed one corpulent hand around his boy's and yanked him out the doors of the police station. They made their way to their battered Ford pickup, the boy still uncertain about what was happening, even after all the weeks of badgering. The psychiatrist and Sheriff Price wanted the same thing - for him to remember. They thought he knew something, something about what had happened to his mother, Nancy.
The psychiatrist had been a woman, a woman with soft hands and an equally soft voice that reminded him of his mother. He had told her so.
"Good," she had said. "I'm glad I remind you of her, because it is her I need you to remember. Do you remember seeing her two weeks ago? Tuesday?"
Joshua had tried, tried so very hard. The psychiatrist had tried several techniques, including something she called "hip-no-siss". Joshua had thought it was going to be great fun. He'd read in comics that a person under hip-no-siss would act like a chicken or bark like a dog, and he wanted very much to please the nice lady with the soft voice, but it hadn't worked. Finally, she had taught him the poem, one that he found himself reciting over and over when his father began to yell. Gray Brickman was incapable of talking to anyone, only yelling.
So many doors within a mind
Open one, see what you find
He had repeated it many times, had tried to visualize it the way she had instructed him. Except in his mind, the door was locked. He could even see the door, all tall and warm brown oak like the doors of his house. He saw himself jiggling the handle, trying to get it open, but was unsuccessful. He had cried when he realized he could not do what the lady wanted. Gray Brickman had called the psychiatrist a dumb cunt and yanked him out of the office.
"Listen, boy," Gray said as the two drove their way down the narrow two-lane road to their farm. "Them people, that sheriff, they may ask you a lot of questions. They ain't going to believe you if you keep saying something different over all the time, and they sure as shit don't believe you can't remember. They may try to take you away from me. Now I may be one sorry son of a bitch, but I'm your dad and I'm all you got. Fact is, your mom up and left us. She packed her bags and sneaked out in the middle of the night. She abandoned us. Now, you can't expect nothin' else from a woman, Josh. That's how they are, ain't good for nothing but spreadin' their legs, and even that ain't worth the trouble. You can't trust no woman. You gotta trust your pa. Okay?"
Joshua didn't reply, only stared out the windows at the trees lining the road. Gray sighed as if in resignation. "Well, I guess they're going to take you to the orphanage then."
Joshua turned his head. "What is that?"
Gray shrugged. "Nah, nevermind."
"No, what is it!"
The man paused for effect. "It's where they take kids when they ain't got no families. They put you with twenty or so other kids. They feed all the kids at the same time, so they all have to fight for their food or starve. The kids that starve get pitched out with the trash, or buried in the yard to feed the headmistress' roses. And the headmistress, whoooo boy, she's always a doozy. Almost all of them love little girls, but hate boys. They can't stand boys. Beat them pretty reg'lar, too. Usually they get some of that electrical cord and just wail away."
He stopped for a moment to pretend like he was looking for his smokes, glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed with fear. He smiled smugly to himself as he lit up.
"Now, I don't want nothin' like that to happen to you. You're my boy, and I need your help on the farm, but if you don't start tellin' the story right, they'll take you away, quick as that. So when they ask you where mommy went, what do you say?"
The boy was crying now, his chest hitching in sobs. "I... .I ... I'll... .say... .mommy... ... ran...away......."
Gray nodded in satisfaction, the cigarette dangling from his grin. "Good. You say that to anyone who asks. You say that to Sheriff Price, you say it to anyone who asks you if you remember, right? 'Cause they'll take you away....."
"I WILL! I'LL SAY IT!" the boy screamed.
"Good. Good boy."
The trip continued in silence.
Gray Brickman wasted no time in returning to his normal evening routine, that of sitting in his recliner and demolishing a twelve-pack of whatever beer had been on special at the supermarket. Joshua went upstairs and sat on his bed, looking at the picture of the mother. The sense of utter wrongness in the house was palpable. There would be no hot dinner with her special cornbread, no bedtime story, no kiss goodnight.
The boy clenched his small fists in anger. What if his father was right? What if she had left, simply up and left him and his father to fend for themselves? If that had happened, then the world had turned even more upside down than he had thought.
"You're my boy, and I love you," he remembered her saying one night as she tucked him in. "The minute I held your hand in mine, my life was more than it ever was, because you're my life now, and I'll always be there for you," He remembered her voice, remembered the brush of soft lips on his forehead and her comforting silhouette in the doorway as she flicked the light off. Then there was the gap, a yawning black hole where his memory ended and oblivion began, a flood of nothingness behind the locked door in his mind. That night he went to sleep that night, and many nights to come, there was no one to tuck him in.
-------------------------
"Boy, what the fuck are you doing?" Gray barked. Joshua had lowered the stairs to the attic and was on its way up when he peered down at his father's angry face.
"The gate to the pig pen is loose. I think there's a box of hinges in the attic, I thought I'd replace them before they get out,"
"You get the fuck down from there and go weed the peas like I told you to. I'll be back in about an hour," Gray slammed the front door behind him, the Ford coughing to life and scattering gravel as he peeled out of the driveway. Joshua sighed as he came down the stairs. Today was the same as most every other day, his father leaving at about four o'clock to go get drunk in town before coming home around nine and polishing off most of a twelve-pack before sleep.
Josh would usually have chores keeping him busy until sundown, and then it was his responsibility to cook dinner. His father rarely ate more than a few bites, but he got very pissed if there was no dinner on the table. His jaw, now totally healed, tightened in anger. If his bitch of a mother hadn't run out on them, it wouldn't be this way. He had tried to hold out, to keep his anger at bay, but it had been impossible. Not a day went by that his father hadn't called his mother a cunt, a whore, a bitch, and the rage had diffused into him like smoke.
He had returned to that door, the door in his mind, so many times. It had changed over time, no longer resembling the doors of his home. It had grown larger, blacker in his mind, an ominous portal carved out of ebony, huge, heavy, forbidding. He found himself wondering what was so terrible that his mind had evicted the memories, confined them to this unreachable corner of his brain. Sometimes he thought he heard voices from behind the door, taunting him.
"Would you like to see, Josh? Would you like to remember? Maybe you'll remember her leaving, Josh. Maybe you'll remember she left because of you. Maybe you'll remember she lied about loving you, you'll remember she left without you. Would you like to see, Josh? Would you?"
He shook his head to clear his own thoughts away, turning his attention to the banging he was hearing from the pig pen. Mary and Tyler were rearing up against the gate, causing it to yaw crazily outwards. The top hinge had finally rusted apart and the bottom wasn't much better. He cursed, threw a few corn cobs to the pigs to calm them down, and went back to the attic to get the hinges.
The attic was musty and dark, a place of things long discarded without even the dignity of being thrown out. Josh brought the gas lantern up with him, making his way over and through the jumbled mess of boxes stuffed with parts for some of the farm equipment, broken shovel and hoe handles that they'd salvaged for plant stakes, and even two large wheels that had once been a part of a horse and carriage assembly. As Joshua flipped open box after box looking for the right one, a glint of floral print caught his eye, hidden under a layer of canvas sheeting. Curious, he flipped it back to find his mother's set of luggage, old, dusty things that he had never seen taken out of their original place in his parent's closet. He flicked the latches open to find it full of his mother's clothes.
The anger coursed through him, and he found himself standing up and kicking the bag as hard as he could. She had been planning to leave! His father had been right! She had been planning on abandoning them both, and had done just that. Except....
He sat down heavily, tears running down his cheeks. Except she hadn't taken her bags, had she? She had left, but left her things. That made no sense at all. He searched through the rest of the bag, finding his mother's red satin dress which she had bought with her butter and egg money. She had hidden it from Gray, only showing Joshua once when the ornery drunk had been out.
Joshua ripped the other bag out and opened it, expecting to find more of his mother's clothes and instead finding his own. He sifted through them and realized they were his good church and school clothes. He hadn't even noticed them missing from his drawers - he'd had no occasion to go to church (his father was hardly the pious type) and he hadn't been to school since his mother left, being needed to help out on the farm.
"She wasn't going to leave without me," he said aloud. "She was going to take me with her."
"Except she didn't did she?" the voice behind the door spoke again. It had taken on a horrible, malevolent tone. "She didn't take you, didn't take her things? Would you like to see, Joshua? Would you like to see why she left her things? Would you like to know where she is? Where she went? Would you?"
The voice faded as Joshua discovered another item hidden next to the luggage - the huge bucket from the well. The well hadn't been used since they'd been connected to city water, and the wooden housing above it had basically fallen apart. It sat rather inconveniently in the potato patch, a poorly kept mess of overgrown vines. Most of the stones had fallen out of it over time and Gray Brickman certainly wasn't going to waste his precious drinking time rebuilding it. He also rarely bothered with the potato patch except to dig them up at harvest, lest they rot and ruin the ground.
He touched the bucket gingerly. In his mind, the lock to the door clicked slightly, one of the tumblers falling into place.
"Would you like to see Joshua? Would you?" the voice asked. The door was changing again, bulging, pushing outwards, as though whatever was inside was screaming to get out. Joshua held his breath as he carried the bucket to the well.
But first he got a rope.
He lowered the bucket slowly down the nearly two-hundred foot shaft, a hole in the earth that might have led all the way to China. Or to hell. The voice was growing more insistent now, the door pushing outward, groaning with the weight of a memory too terrible to be recalled.
"What did you see, Joshua? What did you see? Did you see your mother, did you see your father? Did you see them both? Would you like to see? Joshua, would you like to remember? Are you sure?"
"Shutup goddamnit!" he screamed as he pulled the bucket back to the surface.
"Would you like to see? What did you see that day, Joshua? Why did you forget? Or have you really forgotten? Have you just put it away, behind this door? Did you think you can pick and choose your memories, Joshua? Do you want to see? Do you hate your mother so much you don't want to remember her?"
"FUCK YOU!" He pulled faster, the rope nearing its end.
"Then you do want to remember, don't you? Would you like to see Joshua? Will you remember now?" The door was now a mosaic of chattering skulls, the knob a skeletal human hand. "Shall we open the door, Joshua? Let's remember, shall we? YES, LETS."
When the bucket came to the surface and the grinning, half decomposed skull of his mother tumbled out, the door did not open. It burst apart.
-------------------------
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Gray Brickman was yelling again.
"I'm leaving you, Gray. I've had it with your drinking, with your abuse, with your physical abuse. I'm taking Joshua with me."
Joshua pressed his ear to the wall. He could hear everything.
"And just where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to my sister's in Seattle. If you show up, I'm going to call the police on you. Now get out of my way. I'm leaving."
"Yeah, you're leaving all right, bitch. But not the way you thought."
Then the sounds had started, the surprised yelp, the sounds of fists on flesh. He had covered his ears, hidden under his bed, terrified beyond any boundaries of fear he had ever explored. The sounds had stopped after awhile, and he had crept gingerly out of his room. The house had been empty, but looking out the window he saw the barn door closing. He made his way down, worried about his mother, afraid of what was happening, but even more afraid to hide while it happened.
The sight that greeted him inside the barn would have left anyone's sanity scrambling for cover. His mother lay prone on the ground. His father stood over her, his foot braced on her face as he tried to wedge the head of the firewood axe out of her neck. Bile rising in his throat, Joshua watched as his father dismembered his mother, the axe making a CHUCK! sound each time it hit flesh and bone. Then his father had stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow, and Joshua had blindly run, afraid to be seen. He had gotten tangled in the vines of the potato patch, and when he tumbled forward, the cold stone edge of the nearly-hidden well had been there to greet him.
The voice spoke again.
"Now you've seen, Joshua. Now you remember. Now the door is open. Now you remember...now what do you DO?"
Joshua looked at the rotting skull of his mother. She stared back at him unceasingly. What indeed.
-------------------------
Gray Brickman woke up on the sofa to the sound of squealing. His head was pounding from the booze. He had come home and collapsed as he did most nights, except for Sunday when the cunt who owned the tavern didn't serve. Those nights he stayed in and drank. He was still hammered as hell, but not so drunk that he didn't know what was happening - the pigs had gotten out of their pen and were rooting in the potato patch. He staggered into the night in his slippers. Oddly enough, the pigs were all congregating together in one spot. Gray stormed forward at them, feet and fist flying. The squealing animals ran for cover. Out of breath , he bent over, panting, and then noticed that the pigs had all been together because they had been feasting on a pile of corn cobs that had been placed at the edge of the old well. That was when the shovel hit him.
Drunk and unable to regain his balance, he fell forward. Reaching out in desperation, he managed to catch the opposite edge of the well, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the slippery inner wall. He looked up and saw Joshua standing over him.
"Josh, quick get the ladder from the barn!" he gasped, trying to hold himself up. Joshua did not move, simply stood there.
"GET THE LADDER YOU LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!" he screamed, the panic beginning to overtake him. He felt his grip beginning to weaken.
"You killed mommy."
The words froze him solid. Then he saw the shovel lying on the ground at the boy's feet.
"Josh, josh, listen to me, boy. She was going to leave us. She was going to leave you and me and go away to her cunt sister's and leave us all alone."
"No. She was going to take me with her."
"Listen, Josh, you.....you can't let me fall. They'll take you away. They'll put you in the orphanage. You know how I told you it is."
Josh knelt in front of the struggling man. Gray looked back quickly to see the two hundred foot shaft yawning beneath him. Then he was looking into the bright rage of his ten year-old child's eyes.
"I intend to keep our family together," he said softly.
He picked up the shovel. Gray knew what he was going to do, began to beg and plead. He held on even after the first hit, a mammoth blow that crushed his cheekbone like matchwood and ruptured his eyeball in a rush of vitreous fluid. The second one severed his index finger and at last his grip faltered. He screamed as he fell, not so much out of fear as out of the knowledge that he would be spending his eternity next to his whore of a wife.
-------------------------
"Damn shame, ain't it? Poor kid, first his father kills his mother, then the drunk bastard falls down the same well he stored the body in. You were right, you know?" Deputy Billings pushed his hat back up on his head. It had taken him and the Sheriff a good four hours to winch all of the remains up out of the well.
Sheriff Price watched as forensics carted the last of the dismembered pieces away on a covered stretcher. "Of course I was right. Gray Brickman was a piece of shit, no question what he did.."
"What are they gonna do with the kid?"
"He has an aunt in Seattle, I'm told. Probably go there. Go start the car, okay? I'll be right there."
Sheriff Price watched as the deputy left, then knelt in the dirt and uncovered a human index finger. He had seen it when he had first arrived, and had kicked enough dirt over it to cover it until the coast was clear. He turned it over a bit in his hands, laughed quietly to himself, then tossed it into the well.
"Say, Sheriff, you don't think....you know.....the kid had anything to do with what happened, do you?" Billings asked as Price got into the patrol car.
"Why would he? Poor kid says he can't remember a thing. He's had problems since he injured himself months ago. I believed him then. I believe him now. This was an accident. Now quit jaw-jacking and get me back to the station before the coffee's cold."
Billings hit the gas and the car took off back to town, with Sheriff Price thinking to himself that it was fortunate for a mind to have so many doors, for there are many things that do not need to be remembered.
- VS -
Entry 2
Facing tyrannical retribution, Samuel peered through the keyhole on the giant ironclad door."FORBIDDEN" was clearly slated above.
The guards sat at the large wooden table in the center of the dimly lit room, laughing and cursing as per usual.
"The one with the diary? He didn't feel much like writing after two weeks in the hole." The taller guard muttered through laughter.
"Who can read that illegible scrawl anyhow?
Samuel considered himself lucky. He was the only slave during the Crusades who was permitted to walk the walls of the prison with impunity after confessing to his tormentors that he was skilled in the culinary arts. It wasn't long before he was appointed their full-time chef.
Two knocks from Samuel's labor-worn hand sent the room into silence.
A heavy panel on the door slid open quickly, exposing a pair of emotionless eyes.
"Finally, maggot. Foods here!!"
Samuel knew better than to look directly at his tormentors, let alone speak. A violent slap would be the only reward to expect. Without pause he retreated back to his kitchen-side chamber. Waiting for him as expected, was the small well-traveled dairy that acted as the sole conduit for contact with his countrymen. Everything seemed in order based on the last communication.
****
The text read:
"We revolt in two weeks, but not without your help."
"During evening meal drop-off to the prison population, be sure to serve us with the clay dishes. From those dishes we can fashion crude weapons to subdue our immediate captors. We anticipate the weapons will take us approximately two days."
"At our last head count, taking into consideration Jonah's return from solitary confinement, we are forty strong. Based on your information, there are approximately fifty guards working around the clock. We will have to be brave, and God willing, we shall breathe freely again."
"In exactly one fortnight we will attack. We have suffered long Samuel, and are ready to die for this. On that fateful eve, be sure to add the toxins to the guard's dinner."
"Once it is passed through their door, come to the drainage grate at once. Micah will lay there in wait. Once called, we will rise against our captors and charge the main stronghold. Return to your room and keep a watchful eye and an attentive ear for our disturbance. We will send for you after securing the perimeter around the ironclad guard room."
"Without your help Samuel, we cannot prevail. On the eve of the next fortnight, weapons in hand, we will await your signal."
****
Samuel's heart yearned for freedom, and would stop at nothing to achieve it. Death was no deterrence. Despite this, Samuel's heart felt heavy. He worried endlessly of his captors uncovering their plot. The diary itself had been passed through the hands of guards an immeasurable amount of times, but luckily was deceitfully written in old script and always found it's way back to him. The guards gave Samuel tokens as such from his fallen brothers to serve as a warning, and to remind him of his privilege. The text had traveled to and from his chamber nearly every time one of his countrymen had died; a morbid messenger indeed.
This was not Samuels's solitary concern. The toxins aforementioned in the diary were not nearly as potent as the others had assumed. Mild nausea and drowsiness were the only probable effects, yet perhaps just enough of an edge to gain advantage.
Over the next few days Samuel prepared his meals and went on with his paltry existence as always. His inhibitions began to ease and set upon his task of soaking and scrubbing the clay dishes to ensure their softness upon delivery to his comrades.
The only thought running through Samuel's mind was that of freedom. To be home with his family after this ordeal would make it all worthwhile. The days crept by, shrouded in uneasiness and anxiety.
On the eve of the insurrection, Samuel was calm. With the dishes being delivered three days prior, he set to preparing what could be the final meal for the unsuspecting guards ever-present behind the ironclad door.
With a final prayer, Samuel began his usual walk to the guardroom, followed in tow by his dinner cart. After the usual knock and crude comment, he found himself beside the drainage grate, looking into the passionate eyes of Micah.
"Samuel, is everything as planned?" Micah timidly questioned.
"Yes. We must be very prudent, please keep your eyes open and move carefully."
Without a sound Micah spun around and left. Samuel quickly returned to his chamber, teeming with fear and anxiety.
Nearly thirty minutes later to the second, Samuel heard the faint traces of burgeoning insurrection. It wasn't long before he heard his countrymen grunting and screaming in the torrid throes of battle just down the hallway. It seemed his illness-inducing dinner had affected their captors after all.
"They've made it to the kitchen, if they can only reach the ironclad door..." He muttered to himself nervously.
BAM!!!
Samuel's door shook frantically.
The voice of headstrong Jonah spoke out with confidence. "Samuel! The time has come to fight, lead us to main guardroom!"
Samuel jumped from his hovel and to the aide of his fellow captives. He led them down the chamber-way to the familiar ironclad door, looming directly ahead. Inside could be heard the frantic calls to duty of the remaining guard force.
"United we stand, divided we fall!!" Jonah yelled.
"Past this door and out to freedom!!"
The men began to hammer on the door relentlessly, but alas, to no avail.
The sound of marching steps in unison overcame their struggle to open the large door. A wave of paranoia swept over the men; a now depleted group of eighteen.
"Together!!" Jonah again shouted.
Just as he was about to spout off another inspiring rally, the familiar panel on the door slid open and a large arm grabbed him by the hair, while another brandished a steel blade that swiftly opened Jonah's throat; a display for all to see.
Moments after this the door burst open exposing a final force, cold and menacing. Acquiescing to the advance of the crowd, Samuel and his countrymen huddled back against the wall.
After the initial shock of Jonah's brutal death, they drew upon the strength brought by freedoms near grasp. Recalling the words of their fallen comrade, the captives stood united. Armed with their crude weapons, they charged forth into a final draw.
Amidst the furrow and bloodshed of battle, a weary Samuel found his way through the mighty door and passed through the large guardroom to the gates of freedom.
"One breath, just one breath." Samuel spoke aloud to himself.
With lungs filled with the air of freedom, he drew a sword from his tormentor's armory and proceeded with renewed vigor to assist in the emancipation of his people.
There were only seven left to witness the final drops of blood. The slaves had overthrown their captors at long last. They did not linger to celebrate.
As Samuel carried a dying Micah through the final gate, he promised to send word of their collective valiance home to his family.
The men arrived home after many years absence to tell the tale of their uprising. The sun shone brightly upon their return, and the doors to their homes were open wide.
They were prisoners no more.
Entry 1:
Ancius
AshK
bargled
BoogieFevuh
Chinaski
cshape
domenad
DonovanMD
Durae
espo
ess-arr
Fleury75
funkchomper
FunnyAsCancer
GodChicken
godking
GodLovesALittleLovin
horse87
houseman
humor_me
hyprspacd
iddqd
Ignore_the_Small_Print
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
JonnyX
LadyPlural
lojope
loki
mystiamoon
NerfHerder
polyamorousaj
QueenAshlee
ralphmacchio
redraven
Rocktsrgn
runninginplace
rurumon
salmonofdoubt
Scott_James
Seralena
Slypher
Smurfs
sparkle_pink
Spuds002
stevie_says
The_Walrus
tidalfae
TigerLilly
tlozoot
wazzawazzayo
WiKi
William_Q_Percy
WillZoneGroupie
YELLOW-MAN
Yes
youarsoghey
44 eligible votes (57 total) *
Entry 2:
absolutes
bigbabylons
BillsSBChamps
checkyourmail
darko
Dirtbird
Disektor
JMG114
Kopesh
lessthanfour
lucid
munkeypants
oddity420
rad1101
shandythedog
snaf
thaumaturge
WillZone
xenon
zakalwe
14 eligible votes (20 total) *
* Eligible votes are those made by users who had either (A) posted 3+ messages OR (B) written 100+ [lowered from 750+] reviews as of the beginning of the UberMadness! competition.
User Reviews
Submitted by Fuckface_Jones (user info) at 2004-12-10 00:26:38 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
you know what goes great with roast beef?
sodomy.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/53947
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2004-12-09 11:19:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Way to go, D-man!
Submitted by thaumaturge (user info) at 2004-12-09 10:12:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Domenad:
Congratulations! I can't believe how amazing your entry was. We've been trying to write gold every week since Sept and you have not shown any signs of fatigue at all. I tried, but couldn't pull off the story development that I wanted to include. You created a masterpiece.
You have made a fan out of me, and I hope that you continue to decimate your opponents like I was by you. You deservedly won by a landslide, handing me my proverbial ass. I believe that you will take it all. You have my vote for sure.
I guess now I can actually post something on the site on the regular forum. I'm still a noob to be honest.
Thanks for the great competition,
Thaumaturge.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2004-12-08 16:19:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Seralena (user info) at 2004-12-08 15:35:58 EST (#)
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Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-12-08 15:22:33 EST (#)
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Submitted by Rocktsrgn (user info) at 2004-12-08 15:18:24 EST (#)
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Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2004-12-08 14:40:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
#1, barely.
Submitted by WillZoneGroupie (user info) at 2004-12-08 13:22:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
#2 was goooooood
Submitted by WillZoneGroupie (user info) at 2004-12-08 13:21:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
#1...wow!
Submitted by lojope (user info) at 2004-12-07 11:22:01 EST (#)
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Submitted by ralphmacchio (user info) at 2004-12-07 10:31:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2004-12-07 10:18:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by runninginplace (user info) at 2004-12-07 10:10:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
As much as it annoyed me to hear a little kid keep thinking about his dad "polishing" off a 12 pack, entry one was the better.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2004-12-07 04:17:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by tidalfae (user info) at 2004-12-06 20:56:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by YELLOW-MAN (user info) at 2004-12-06 18:34:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
If i had gotten this title I would've used the cover for silent hill 4 as the picture.
Submitted by checkyourmail (user info) at 2004-12-06 18:17:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by lessthanfour (user info) at 2004-12-06 16:49:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
wtf i'm not reading all that.
Submitted by Durae (user info) at 2004-12-06 15:27:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by rurumon (user info) at 2004-12-06 15:23:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
no comment
Submitted by ess-arr (user info) at 2004-12-06 14:17:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
both enjoyable, 1 got it for me though
Submitted by Dirtbird (user info) at 2004-12-06 12:29:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2004-12-06 11:52:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2004-12-06 11:44:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I liked both of these.
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-12-06 11:10:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Ancius (user info) at 2004-12-06 07:14:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Both Good, but 1 edges it.
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2004-12-06 00:33:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by The_Walrus (user info) at 2004-12-05 23:17:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Entry 1 was brilliant, 2 was good, but not good enough for round 6.
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2004-12-05 22:23:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by horse87 (user info) at 2004-12-05 22:16:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2004-12-05 15:54:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by BoogieFevuh (user info) at 2004-12-05 15:13:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2004-12-05 12:43:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Slypher (user info) at 2004-12-04 23:35:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
holyshitholyshitHOYLSHIT!!! THIS IS UBERMADNESS!
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2004-12-04 23:06:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2004-12-04 21:26:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2004-12-04 17:01:16 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
I shoulda figured the one i ended up voting for is losing big. Apparently it's not as close as i though.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2004-12-04 16:59:22 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Ok, Here I go. Both of these stories work the vengance angle very well.
I think number two has a more likeable hero because Joshua had other options than killing his father while Samuel had no choice but to kill in order to survive.
Story one had better use of the title, using a metaphorical door instead of an actual door that had the word forbidden on it.
Both storied showed a certain disdain, a corrupt cop with his own sense of justice and gaurds who tormented the slaves.
Number one did a far better job of giving the father an identity than number two did with the gaurds. This made him more hateable.
God damn i could write a paper about these two entries.
Both had pictures so i can't use that method for chosing one.
Number one was longer, but the shortness of number two made it work. I'm pretty sure this was the length and the indepthness the author was going for. So i'm gonna say the author left it as undeveloped as it was to keep us thinking about the background behind the story. That and to keep the attention of average uberer.
For some reason Number 1 made me think of Identity. Probably because the kid is a killer.
Number two was more of a feel good story.
Maybe I just shouldn't vote?
God damnit.
Alright i'm ready to vote.
2
Submitted by Fleury75 (user info) at 2004-12-04 16:19:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Both great submissions. The first one, though a little predictable, definitely had a better conclusion. The ending of the second one, though well done, lacked the emotion of the first one. Great submissions for this round and again i love the lack of spelling mistakes!!
Submitted by thaumaturge (user info) at 2004-12-04 16:16:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2004-12-04 16:05:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Best matchup i've read so far, i'm probably going to have to think about this one before i vote...
Submitted by houseman (user info) at 2004-12-04 14:55:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
wow
Submitted by funkchomper (user info) at 2004-12-04 12:59:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Disektor (user info) at 2004-12-04 12:27:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Kopesh (user info) at 2004-12-04 12:08:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Ignore_the_Small_Print (user info) at 2004-12-04 11:39:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by bigbabylons (user info) at 2004-12-04 11:36:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-12-04 09:28:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Both were really good
Submitted by Spuds002 (user info) at 2004-12-04 07:55:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i like em.
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2004-12-04 04:15:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by absolutes (user info) at 2004-12-04 01:01:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:39:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Goddamn
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:38:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:35:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn
Submitted by bargled (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:19:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by espo (user info) at 2004-12-04 00:08:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2004-12-03 21:19:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Once again--no contest, although both stories were excellent. What a fantastic round.
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2004-12-03 19:56:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
I was leaning towards 2 for a bit, but the ending seemed lack-luster.
Submitted by Smurfs (user info) at 2004-12-03 19:51:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2004-12-03 19:14:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
2 was more inventive.
Submitted by BillsSBChamps (user info) at 2004-12-03 18:32:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by humor_me (user info) at 2004-12-03 18:24:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2004-12-03 18:10:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by WiKi (user info) at 2004-12-03 18:09:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:51:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry #1, obviously.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:36:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
both appear to be tripe, entry 2 for being shorter
Submitted by hyprspacd (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:35:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Submitted by redraven (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:33:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:23:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by domenad (user info) at 2004-12-03 17:06:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sweeeeeet.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:45:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:43:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Whoever you two are, I love you. Completely respectfully, of course, but... DAYYYY-YYUM, these were good. I just liked the first one a tiny bit more.
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:42:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Chinaski (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:40:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You just won ubermadness.
Submitted by snaf (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:39:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by salmonofdoubt (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:34:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:34:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lucid (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:33:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah! Door pictures!
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:32:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by oddity420 (user info) at 2004-12-03 16:25:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment