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Challenge #3

  • November 7, 2014
    Hey there, guys and gals! Time for the third challenge! This is a shout out to everyone that loves, music, movies, or damn near anything that involves the media! It's time for you to get creative once again and live your dreams! Here's the challenge straight from our previous winner (Mandi Konesni) --



    Everyone has a vision of someone that is an "idol" who is virtually untouchable and out of reach. I'd love to see stories of what you would do, say, etc. Imagine you are spending the day with your favorite idol. Where would you go? What would you do? Talk about? Write it like it's happening!



    So,

    Plot- Hanging out with your favorite celebrity/person of interest.

    Character- You!



    Go crazy, sky is the limit. No cost too big, no setting too weird. This is your fantasy day, so enjoy it and lose yourself in the daydreams of the perfect time spent with someone you could carry on amazing conversations with.



    You heard her! No limit for word or anything this time! Just remember the main character is you! You're hanging out with the person of your dreams, real or fictitious! Enjoy, have fun, and thank Mandi for her great idea when you get the chance! :D
  • Member
    November 8, 2014
    Just remember, for those that want to write erotic "adult" versions, http://literarysocial.com/forum/thread/69/posting-adult-material/ , please follow those guidelines. Thanks.
  • Member
    November 12, 2014
    Well, you said to go crazy so I did. :P Hope it's ok. If not, I can do a different one.



    *******************************



    Diary Entry



    June 11 (year unknown as I'm ageless).



    My car was acting up again but I decided to spend the weekend with my aunt in Augusta. I should have known when it took three tries to start, and started with a loud BANG, that I should have stayed home. Hell, the FluOmbie had been going around and warnings had been issued to get flu shots and try not to be out too much until it was contained. I didn't think going to my aunt's was a risk. FluOmbie was particularly nasty and was rumored to turn folks in to zombies. I figured it was the government starting rumors to keep people in control. They just love control.



    Off I went though, window rolled down, music blaring and drowning out the groaning of the car. The main road to my aunt's house was blocked, causing me to detour. I just loved this detour though as it went right past Stephen King's house and OMG the man is a genius. What I wouldn't give to spend one day with him, learning his secrets. That's what I thought anyway, until disaster struck. Would be my luck though.



    As I was passing Stephen's house, my car sputtered, jerked hard to the right, and died. Right in front of his house. On one hand, I was ecstatic as I was stuck right in front of my writing idol's house. On the other hand, I was embarrassed as I was stuck right in front of my idol's house and my hair was all wild from the wind coming in the window. I had forgotten my comb too. Like I said, just my luck.



    I did get a little lucky though as he came out of his house as I was standing next to my piece of crap car.



    “Hello!” I heard, from the direction I had seen him in his yard. I didn't dare turn around though. Stephen King sooo did not just say “Hello” to me.



    “Miss! Excuse me, Miss? Is everything ok,” Stephen King said as he opened his gate. It creaked eerily.



    I turned to face him and froze. I'm such a nerd. I couldn't speak. There he stood, larger than life. Smile on his very familiar face. The book God himself and he was reaching out his hand to shake mine.



    “Hi, I'm Donna,” I said meekly as I grabbed his hand and shook it lightly. “My car broke down.”



    We both looked at the broken down, rusted mess of a car. Right tail light was held together with duct tape. Passenger rear door was a deep blue and didn't match the tan color of the rest of the car.



    He smiled and said, “Well, I can believe it. Sorta reminds me of a car I owned when we were first starting out. Tabby and I didn't have much back then. Come on up to the house. You can call a tow or maybe someone to come get you.”



    Diary, I really was on cloud nine for a bit there. We went into his house and it was amazing. He actually made us tea and we sat in his reading room chatting while I waited for my aunt. She hadn't been home when I called but I was able to reach her on cell and she said it would be an hour before she could get there. I had thought he would make me go wait in the car but he was just so nice and offered me tea and insisted I stay and wait inside with him. He didn't like the idea of a woman waiting outside alone.

    During our chat about The Stand, his emergency radio screeched into life.



    This is an announcement of the Emergency Broadcasting System. Stay tuned for an important announcement from the President of the United States.



    We both were alarmed and sat intently waiting for whatever news was coming. It had to be something major as the President never gave emergency announcements, not in my lifetime anyway.



    A bit of static crackled as the radio hissed to life again.



    My fellow countrymen, it is with sadness that I must inform you that FluOmbie has reached epidemic proportions and we have, as of yet, found no cure. It is estimated that this flu could kill 90% of the population within the next few months. However, top scientists from around the world are working on a cure and are making progress. We do need to warn everyone though that this flu has never-before seen symptoms.



    Anyone who contracts it and dies, will come back as what is known as a Zombie. Infection, as of this stage, is by direct contact with someone with the flu virus or by being bitten by one of the Zombies. We advise you to remain indoors, take normal precautions such as washing hands, etc. You should stay away from, and report, any Zombies to local authorities. They have been instructed on how to handle the situation.



    Zombies have a distinct gait, generally walk very slow, have a pasty to greenish complexion and a general state of decay is apparent. They also smell badly, like swamp gas. Do not get in close proximity to a Zombie, even if it was a relative. They are beyond curing.




    Stephen and I looked at each other, each of us in shock. It was at that moment that we heard banging on the door.



    “That must be your aunt,” Stephen said, getting up and walking to the door.



    He opened it without thinking as he was still trying to grasp the announcement we had just heard. Standing in the doorway was a man. He had pasty skin, lesions on his arms and face, clumps of hair missing and his clothes were covered in filth. The stench that wafted in on the breeze made me gag.



    What happened next was like a horror movie. It all happened so fast. The zombie grabbed Stephen's arm and bit it. Stephen reached for a cane that he kept by the door. Luckily, it had a heavy steel head. He brought it down hard on the zombie's head, creating a “plop” sound as the cane submerged into the zombie's head. This killed the zombie and he fell to the floor.



    Using his leg, Stephen pushed the zombie out the door and locked it. His arm was bleeding where he was bitten.



    “Oh my God, you're hurt! Let's get you bandaged. Where is the bathroom,” I asked.



    “It ain't to bad but I could use help bandaging it. Follow me,” he said as he led the way to the bathroom.



    The bathroom was about as big as my guest bedroom. It was gorgeous too. Nicely tiled floor, white with specks of blue. Antique mirror on the wall above a pedestal sink. Towel closet and antique looking medicine chest. The toilet was even made to look sort of old style. Curtains on the window added to the old fashioned look and the lights were the old style lights that flickered. If it weren't for the current situation, I would have stayed just to enjoy the décor a bit more.



    Stephen got the bandages, peroxide and some towels and turned on the water. His arm wasn't bleeding badly, but it did look gross with zombie saliva on it. He rinsed his arm, washed the wound and dried it, then sat on the bench opposite the sink. I put the peroxide on the wound and wrapped it in the bandage as well as I could. He then took some aspirin and we went back to the reading room where he sat in his favorite chair.



    Things progressed from there. It didn't take long for him to start getting really sick but he refused to go to the hospital. Within a few hours, he was looking pasty. His skin was clammy and he was perspiring. His eyes were bloodshot. He was delirious and ranting about ghosts in the attic. I tried to call Tabby, using the autodial for her cell but it kept going to voicemail.



    I finally decided to go against his wishes and call an ambulance when he passed out in his chair.



    “911, what's your emergency?”



    “I'm at Stephen King's house and he's sick. I need an ambulance right away,” I said.



    “We are overwhelmed with calls and have no available ambulances but will dispatch one as soon as we can. In the meantime, if you can get the subject to the ER yourself, please do,” was the response from the 911 operator.



    “I don't believe this! How can you be too busy to pick up a patient?!?!”



    With that, I slammed down the phone and decided to take him to the hospital myself. Google maps gave me the driving directions. I rummaged around the house for keys to the car I had seen in the driveway. When I couldn't find any, I surmised that Stephen had them. I tried to wake him by gently shaking him but he was out cold. I didn't like the look of him, as his skin was turning a gray color. Carefully, I pulled him off the chair and onto the floor. His head bumped on the floor slightly and I felt guilty for it. I carefully searched his pockets and found his keys. Now, all I had to do was figure out how to get him in the car.



    The best thing I could think of was to open the rear passenger door and drag him to the car as I knew I couldn't carry him. I decided to have the car running so that I could quickly get on the way to the hospital. The zombie that Stephen had shoved outside was in the way so I had to roll it off the path. The stench made me vomit, all over the zombie.



    I made it to the car, after composing myself, and got it ready. With the door open and the car running, I went back into the house to get Stephen, avoiding looking in the direction of the disgusting puke covered zombie. Stephen was right where I left him, and to be honest, I was kind of surprised. I had expected not to find him there, and instead for him to be right behind me, just like the horror movies I loved to watch.



    I grabbed his hands and noticed they were cold but it really didn't register as I was concentrating on getting him out to the car. What happened next will haunt me forever. As I was pulling him toward the front door, he opened his eyes. They were a milky white. When I saw them, I froze in a panic. He groaned and clasped my hands harder but I was able to pull my right hand free. He was pulling me down toward his face, making a chomping sound as he did so.



    My heart was racing, throbbing in my head, deafening me some as I panicked. I looked around for a weapon, anything to help me get away as I struggled to free myself from his grip. It was then that I noticed the blood and brain encrusted cane he had used on the zombie earlier. As he pulled at me, and consequently pulled himself closer to me, I reached for the cane and missed it the first time as he had me off balance. Kicking him in the face, enough for him to loosen his grip some, I was finally able to grab the cane.



    In one motion, I turned and swung the cane as hard as I could at Stephen's head. It caused him to release his grip and free me, which sent me sprawling on the floor as I lost my balance. Looking back, I could see the monster that had once been my writing idol. He was on his feet and coming toward me, his left eye hanging loosely on his face and swinging back and forth as he walked. I got to my feet and bolted out the door toward the car. Slamming the rear door, I jumped in the driver seat and got the hell out of there.



    An ambulance was making its way to his house as I sped back home.



    June 15



    Here I sit, alone in the darkened house. I have one candle and a few boxes of batteries left for the flashlight. My food supplies are running low as I hadn't prepared for a zombie epidemic. I'll have to go out and get some supplies later. For now, I'll just sit and read my autographed copy of The Stand.





    #writingchallenge
  • Member
    November 14, 2014
    Sort of "adultish" but not bad enough to be censored so posting it here instead of the Erotica group :) Fun fact- this is all actually TRUE up till when I go out and the car is gone. I've spent many a daydream wondering "What if..." past that point.







    Clutching the tickets in hand, I shift from one foot to the other impatiently waiting to find a seat. I'd spent every penny I had for these tickets. Driven 3 hours in the blistering heat. And now here I was standing with a small group of other Adventures in Wonderland VIPs. We'd gotten a tote bag filled with VIP merchandise as we'd been checked in, but we were all honestly too excited to really pay much attention to our wares. The sense of wonder in the air was tangible. Perfect strangers were chatting with each other like old friends. We were the Echelon, as we called ourselves, and we were often called the "nicest fanbase in the world". It really was true. As shy as I was, I found a few people in line to strike up a conversation with. We shared little memories from other concerts, other trips. No one was allowed to be left out or alone.



    Then, it happened. The people nearer to the half opened door started cheering. The rest of us craned our necks where we sat, trying to see. It didn't take long before the doors opened all the way, revealing them. Thirty Seconds to Mars. The band that had saved me, made me fight again when I had all but given up. The band I'd have given anything to meet was, at this moment, right in front of me. They stood around in the front, and talked to us for a bit. When it came time to ask questions, my hand shot up before I even realized I had intended on doing it. Jared looked at me, and said "Yes, Pinky?" I blinked. Did...did Jared Leto just give me a nickname? My hand smoothed over the pink curls at my shoulder before I realized I needed a question.



    Stammering, I asked "Are you going to record Stay the Night without talking?" He grinned at me and wow. My stomach flip flopped. He really was devastating. In the next moment, he'd come closer, his eyes meeting mine. Softly, he sang the lyrics "Are you going to stay the night? Doesn't mean we're bound for life. I know we're made to break but I don't mind. Tell me, are you going to stay the night?" My cheeks flamed. I couldn't break his captivating gaze even if I wanted to. Giving me a wink, he moved on to the next question. My mother. Her face showed her glee as she told him her daughter had refused to give her a grandchild unless she asked Jared Leto to do it. He laughed, looking back at me and shaking his head in refusal to answer. Meanwhile, I wished the earth would open up and swallow me.



    We each got a poster signed, then it was time for individual photos. We all lined up, and as the line moved forward, eventually it was my turn. Standing between the Leto brothers, the only thing I could ask for was a huge hug. I didn't even care what I looked like in the photo, as I was so immersed with being held tightly between Jared and Shannon. Once we were released to wander, me and my friend Valerie ran back to take pictures of ourselves. As we finished, I looked around. Where'd she go? My eyes track through the crowd. I spot her standing with...oh not again. She is deep in conversation with the man of my dreams. Narrowing my eyes as she turns to start coming back, I just shake my head. At this point, who knows what she said. I wasn't likely to ever meet him again so I wouldn't let it bother me. Arm in arm, we headed straight for our seats in expectation of the show of our lives. As Linkin Park was on their last song, one of my personal favorites, Valerie and my mom said they wanted to get to the car. Waving them on, I shook my head. I was NOT leaving early. They could go to the car and wait. I barely noticed as they left, too immersed in the music flowing around me.



    I did notice however, when I'd made my way through the crowds, and the tiny red Soul was not in the parking spot I distinctly remembered us parking in. Glancing right and left, I began to get a little worried. What could have happened? Where the hell did those two go??? I was a good 4 hours from home, and now alone. I'd gone to tug my phone from my pocket when strong arms latched around me, one hand going to cover my mouth as I went to scream bloody murder. "Aw now Pinky, you don't want to ruin the fun before it even gets started, do you?" My heart pounded. What was going on? Fun...what fun? As he shifted, his fingers stroking a slow path up my sides, to curve around my breasts, my eyes widened. No way was this happening to me. Chubby, boring, plain me. My eyes closed of their own violation, my lips parting to exhale a soft breath as his teeth sank into a sensitive bit of skin on my neck.



    He traveled upwards, nibbling at my ear before he asked what my favorite video of theirs was. Not knowing if it was a trick or not, I forced out "Hurricane...", wondering what difference it made. I got my answer as he moved around to face me, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling until the sensations were a heady mix of pleasure and pain. Gasping, my eyes met his, shocked by the lust I saw swirling in their azure depths. Now I knew why the video had mattered. He wanted to know what I found erotic. For whatever reason, this man I had idolized for years, had dreamt of...wanted me. He licked his lips, indicating the door to the door bus to the left. "Now, Pinky. I'm going that way. I'm giving you the chance to walk away. If you step through that door, you better have a safe word ready and you won't be making it home tomorrow."



    My eyes wide, I watched as he disappeared into the bus. The sound of the latch clicking seemed loud in the night, even with the crowd on the other side of the parking lot still within earshot. Maybe my senses were just going overboard. What did I do? Did I give myself up, let him take what he wanted? Did I let fear guide me and run to the other side of the parking lot looking for an escape? My lips twitched as I remembered jokingly telling my friends over and over "If I ever got a chance with that man, I'd do whatever the hell he wanted, and wait to feel embarrassed in the morning."



    Squaring my shoulders, I walked the ten feet to the closed metal door. Taking a deep breath, I forced a shaky hand out, grabbing the handle. Pulling it downward, the door swung open. The first step seemed to be huge. Biting my lip, I stepped inside, shutting out the rest of the world. For this night, this moment... I would live a fantasy no other could dream. Tomorrow I'd probably be embarrassed but tonight, I was going to cherish every touch, every memory stolen.