Last year's R.I.P. Challenge had a 100 Words contest. You write a piece with 100 words - no repeats on the words and the title doesn't count (for repeats or word count).
This is the example they gave for last year's contest and you rest assured that I'm SO happy I didn't have to go up against this writer! (Not that I won anyway or anything.)
Beneath the Bed
They have always been here with us. Not just symbiotic to you or me, but humans in general. Imagination gave them form. Darkness confers life.
Tonight there come sounds. Raspy voices carried on forked and barbed tongues. I wonder about their purpose. Listening intently, understanding follows quickly.
“Our man should taste good,” one says.
“He has surely matured well,” another.
We are livestock. Bred for this moment, by creatures that reside beneath the bed. A hairy arm reaches out from under thick box spring. Monsters emerge, no longer afraid, nor needing to hide among dark shadow.
It is my time.
Story by Stuart Clark. Not included in the contest as Stuart is one of our judges.
They didn't do it this year! Bummer because I had already come up with my entry a few months beforehand.
Here it is...
Stretching languorously, sleepy canine nestles in warm bed under favorite blanket of yellow and red. Large, white hailstones pelt down unnoticed.
The tractor beam catches some attention! Cowering fearfully, Fido looks up, too scared to move. No comforting bright light, just pulled toward scary dark cave surrounded by misshapen, yellowing stones is all he sees.
Peeking over an edge, what was once tranquil sanctuary, now a suicide's leap away. Realizing limited options, Rover trembles, sweats helplessly.
Life flashing behind frightened eyes....
Ends as quickly when cavern closes around pup's middle, tearing half away.
mmmmm, Hot Dogs!
Hope he has the contest next year, Ruth!