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Random Contest Winners!

Every week or so we have a new Random Contest. The rules and events vary from competition to competition. Below are the winners from the last contest. If you'd like to enter the current contest, wander on over to the Random Contest submission form and have a look at what the currently silly task is. If you think you're up for it, give it a shot and submit your entry.


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Contest:
Short Story Jamboree


Kougra Classics
by ilaughinurface25

Chapter 7:

Many a time it hath been that I've told this story yet never I tire of it. It was night unlike any other; the terrential rain and scathing wind was enough to run anyone down, including Logan. Logan was the lonliest Kougra. He had no friends and no family, but it was on this night that his adventure begins.

"Grrr! How can they expect me to work with all this rain!" Logan exclaimed, setting down his rake and glaring daggers at the sky. "I don't get paid enough for this." he mumbled.

Logan picked up his rake and traipsed back to a crooked and shabby shack on the edge of the wood. The tree's howled a sinister howl as the wind raked through them; It was enough to make anyone shiver.

"I'll just go home then." Logan said to himself, glancing back at the fields where all the other Kougra's worked so diligently through the downpour. And so he set off down the murky road to his lone cottage, with its snug fire and cozy poufs. As he reached his oak front door, he noticed a sinister looking shoyru, just sitting there. He had eyes or the reddest blood and a grin full of mossy, yellow teeth. He sneered.

"Hey," Grunted the mysterious voice, "aren't you suppossed to be down on the fields?"

Logan hesitated. Who was this man and how did he know that he was skivving on the fields?

"Oh, um, they let us out early." the Kougra lied.

"Wrong." The stranger said simply and within a second, he a Logan in the most formidable grasp you've ever seen, or, er, felt.

The strange Shoyru led,(or more like dragged) Logan through the yowling trees for what seemed like hours. On and On they went untill at last, they reached the foot of some old, worn, stone steps. So old they were, that they were covered in mosses even Logan had never seen before. With a shove, the Shoyru pushed Logan up and up these stairs, trampling over moss and dead-looking flowers. Once they reached the entrance of a warped wooden door, the shoyru knocked and forced Logan within.

Those of you who have ever been taken somewhere, by a stranger, against your will can probably imagine what Logan must be feeling. For those of you who haven't, you cannot even fathom it.

The depths of the cave were dark; the blackest black. Logan opened his eyes wider, in hopes to obtain more sight; he IS a cat after all; shouldn't he be able to see?

"Welcome Logan," whispered the Shoyru, " to the Maniacle Marauders" And with a swish of his cloack, the room was full of light, and for the first time (though they had surely been there the whole time) Logan saw, sitting around him, a room full of the most strangley assorted Neopets he had ever imagined.




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