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Congratulations to the Short Story
Contest Winners!!!
Here are the winning contest entries: click to view the
first,
second,
and third
place short stories for you to read. Congratulations
to the authors of these stories, and thanks to all who entered
the
Teen Advisory Board's short
story contest.
First Place
by Tara Teeter, grade 10, Lucas High School
The forest creaked around Dylan, the moonlight on the
dead leaves dancing. Dylan pulled the collar of the jacket
she wore up around her face, the wind biting at her. She
had no clue what drove her here, but she could hear the
voice at the end of the path. It called to her. It said,
"Come, little mortal. I will take you home."
Dylan didn't know whether to believe the strange voice.
It had a weird sound to it. The voice was a mix between
a growl and a sibilant whisper. But it was tempting to follow
the voice, no matter how strange it was. Whistling a tune,
she plucked up her shattered courage and walked off in the
direction the voice came.
It wasn't long until she came to a large cave. It resembled
a huge animal with stalactites for teeth. Whistling the
tune even further, she ventured forth into the cave. It
was dark and Dylan did not have a flashlight or a lantern
of any kind. Not having a light-giving object worried Dylan.
After walking for what seemed to be a lifetime, a flickering
glow appeared before her. Dylan smiled and ran toward the
fire. She threw herself down beside the flames and began
warming her hands and face. Suddenly, a shadow fell over
her, and a massive, three-clawed hand grabbed her throat
and lifted her easily off the ground. As Dylan grabbed at
the hand, she could make out the outline of a huge creature.
The head resembled that of a giant spider. It had four
red, glowing eyes that flashed before her. Its back was
covered with a heavy, mottled shell comprised of black and
blue splashes. The underbelly was soft and was also covered
with the same, bruise-colored splashes. It stood on two,
backward bending legs and had two long arms. One arm held
onto her throat while the other prodded her sharply in the
chest.
"A mortal has come to investigate my fire. I do not
put up with creatures of your domain," the creature
said. "Why have you come?"
Dylan realized that this was the same voice that she was
following. Still tugging at the claws, she managed to gasp
out, "I…heard a voice. Promised…to…take
me home." The creature cocked its head before dropping
her. She scrambled away to get a better look at it. It was
just as she had expected. It was a Harvester.
Her mother had warned her about Harvesters before. They
were known as cruel creatures that would sooner eat you
than look at you. But some of them were gentle and sometimes
kept their word.
The creature walked around the fire so that Dylan could
see it better. She noticed that it walked with a limp and
realized the reason why.
A huge, fist-sized hole had been burned into the Harvester's
thigh. Crawling closer to the fire to see it better, she
realized that an unknown weapon had caused it. Something
had attacked it. Or did IT attack something?
The creature clicked its mandibles in an agitated way before
sitting down. Reaching beside the fire, it withdrew an elk
from a large mesh sack and began tearing it to pieces. Dylan
knew that Harvesters liked to eat food in pieces. Big animals
like elk, bear, or buffalo had to be eaten in parts like
leg, breast, and thigh. The Harvester ripped off a leg and
thrust a metal skewer through the soft flesh. After placing
it over the fire, the creature nodded to her. "Are
you hungry? You can join me for dinner," it said.
Dylan averted her gaze from the Harvester's fierce, red
eyes. The creature, however, knew what she had really been
looking at. It chuckled and patted its thigh. "Yes,
such a strange wound, isn't it? Would you like to know where
I got it?"
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Dylan didn't answer, so the creature continued ruffling
her black, curly hair and touching her dark-skinned face.
"I got this when I went looking for food. I do love
a nice, fat piece of beef. But a stupid, fat farmer chased
me off with a weapon. He shot at me several times but only
got me once. Know why?" It lifted Dylan's chin. "Because
I have a hard shell. Most of his shots just bounced off
harmlessly."
Dylan nodded to the wound as she removed her chin from
the Harvester's grip. "I can fix that for you, sir,"
she said.
The Harvester laughed and patted her head again. "I
ain't no 'sir.' I'm Fess. In case you haven't noticed, I
ain't no fancy pants mortal. But, I'd be much obliged if
you would."
Dylan found some strings of long hair, (she really didn't
want to think what animals they came from) and a tissue
from her pocket, and bound them around the thigh. Fess ripped
off a huge strip of elk meat and handed it to her. "Now,
to whom do I have the pleasure of welcoming into my home?"
Dylan slapped her forehead and cleared her throat of meat.
"I'm Dylan. I come from the Western shore."
"Western shore! What are you doing way out here? Western
shore's off in that direction." Fess pointed off west,
and Dylan nodded.
"I know. I just got lost. Then, your voice led me here."
Fess clicked his mandibles again before rising. Tossing
aside the elk bone, he stalked over to the cave mouth where
he stood as though in deep thought. "Dylan, you helped
me. Now, I will help you, as long as you promise me one
thing." Fess swiveled about and pointed a clawed finger
into the air.
Dylan swallowed the last bit of elk and nodded in agreement.
Fess shuffled his giant, three-talon foot onto the cave
floor. If Dylan didn't know any better, she would have guessed
that Fess was embarrassed.
"This has never been asked by a Harvester before.
But, being alone tends to make us crazy. But, I would work
as a hired hand. A slave if you chose to call it. But, I
truly want some company."
Dylan nodded. "Just take me home, and we will discuss
it with my father."
Before long, they were speeding through the forest westward.
Dylan laid on Fess's back with her arms around his neck.
With each staggering step, Fess grunted and groaned. Dylan
found that Fess's strides were longer than hers, and there
was no way that she could have run from him.
It didn't take very long until the familiar sights of home
came into view. Her father was just coming out of the family
barn, and her mother was standing in the door of their house.
Her mother screamed and pointed in the direction that Dylan
and Fess were coming. Her father snatched up his weapon
and pointed it at Fess.
"Okay, Harvester. Drop my daughter and prepare to
die," he shouted.
"No, wait Daddy. Fess was only guiding me home. He
wants to be a hired hand. He is my friend," said Dylan
as she dismounted. She grabbed at her father's trousers
gazing up at him with sad, watering eyes.
Her father stared at Fess who was still watching her father's
trigger finger. He couldn't bear to have his daughter sad.
Pointing his weapon toward the sky, he removed his hat and
wiped his sweating forehead.
"Okay. A Harvester could be a good hired hand. He
will be paid for his service in food." He spread his
arms wide. "Welcome to our house, Fess."
Dylan smiled as she took Fess's claw and led him toward
the house. "Come on, Fess. You can sleep in the barn
where it is nice and warm."
Since that day, Fess and Dylan had been best friends. Fess
worked day-in-day-out. And he was paid with good food. From
then on, they lived happily for the rest of their lives.
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