Well who knew what the outcome of this one would be? I sure didn’t. Crazy man. Crazy. Just shows what great writing comes out of these people, each and every week. They’re heroes, that’s what they are. Pure writing heroes.
Big round of applause for this winning entry, and from a new victim… I mean fantastic writer at that. Congratulations, and may you go on to greatness and remember us when you’re a billionaire author.
Here’s her winning entry. Enjoy.
‘But my fingers are bleeding’ Taslu whimpered, unable to raise her head where it hung inches from the old fashioned metal typewriter. The letters & numbers were worn off the keys, the levers and cogs inside dirty and cobwebbed, but also dripping in dried, congealing and fresh blood; he’d forced her here, hour upon hour, day after day, to write for the last 30 days.
‘Type it, type ‘The End”, he calmly and quietly instructed.
She didn’t know if any of it would make sense to anyone, it certainly didn’t make any sense to her anymore. Her mind was a jumble of confused feelings, but mostly no feelings at all as she felt broken and empty; he had taken everything from her when he stole her from her home & locked her here in this dark place with only his voice, not even his face, for company.
Would he free her now that it was finished? She didn’t know and she didn’t care. She belonged to him now to do with what he wished, she was devoid of desire for anything but for the writing to stop; and with that, she typed with shaking, cold & blood streaked fingers, ‘The End’.