Flash Fiction | Our WIP

Here’s a fun experiment and writing exercise for us. I’ve started a story for our little group here about a young woman named Lauren. It is about 470 words long, a mere introduction to her dilemma. What I’d like you to do (talking my writer friends now), is take this intro and add to it. Build the story out how you think it should go, but your word count and mine together can only be 1,200 words at most. The story doesn’t have to wrap up, though you can do so if you want.

Post your continuation of the story in the comments section along with a title. Try to write free form and don’t take a lot of time to edit or over-think it at first. I took about an hour to work this out. The idea is to just get it down. After we’re all done I’ll choose my favorite, then we’ll edit it together and post the complete co-authored story online.

Cool?  Click READ MORE below to get started. Have fun.

The tang of pine and damp earth hung on the air, but it was the pungent smell of gas that pulled her out of that thin place between waking and dying.

With a loud gasp, Lauren took a breath. Then another. The night air reached deep into her lungs and awakened pain that spread through her arms and legs until every fiber caught fire.
But pain meant feeling, and feeling anything meant one thing: she was alive.

She blinked, eyes drifted right then left. The world was a jumble of smudges and blurred shadow just out of reach. But slowly, forms and lines emerged then forced themselves into place like living puzzle pieces.

She was in a car. No, her car. She hung from the driver’s seat, her body weight held by a taut seatbelt that cut deep across her chest. Gravity tugged, but the strap kept her from tumbling through the crackled skin that had once been the windshield. To her right, the glass had crumpled and given way to a wide hole on the passenger’s side.

A faint smile nudged her lips. It had worked. She had nearly killed herself doing it, but it had worked.

The car was pitched nose down, almost vertical. It must have come to rest on a rock or tree on the hillside. Below her, no more than twenty feet away, slate colored water churned through rocks that glistened in faint moonlight.

Her eyes flitted back and forth. Where was the man?

Then her eyes saw him. There on the hood lay a lifeless lump of shadow. She froze and watched him for what felt like an eternity, but he never moved. The only thing that kept him from sliding completely off the hood was a jagged corner of windshield that had snagged his shoe.

She had taken a gamble and it had paid off. Sure, driving her car over the edge off a mountain road was three kinds of crazy, but so was doing nothing. She couldn’t just do nothing. If she was going to die, it would be on her terms and not someone else’s. And definitely not a killer’s.

“C’mon, girl. Get moving,” Lauren whispered to herself.

Lauren’s eyes focused nearer, to the dashboard just beneath her. Pale green light bled into the car. Her eyes traced the curve of the steering wheel to a silver ring hooked near the bottom. She tugged once. A faint metallic clink answered back. She yanked her right hand again, this time harder, but the cold steel of the handcuff bit back so hard it nearly took her breath away. She choked back a yell. Broken in the crash, her hand had swelled to nearly twice its normal size. She had to get free. She must get free. But the only way to get free was a key.

And that was in the man’s pocket.

TO BE CONTINUED…

  • Nathan Smith

    “Freedoms Pursuit”

    Lauren closed her eyes, breathing deeply. There had to be a way to get to the key, she couldn’t just hang there to die when she was so close to freedom.

    Forcing herself to relax, Lauren arched her back, raising her head up so that her forehead rested against the steering wheel, allowing the blood to rush out of her head, clearing her mind so she could think.

    Tenderly adjusting her handcuffed wrist, Lauren reached up with her left hand, fumbling to reach the release button on the seat belt.

    Bracing herself, she pushed the bright red button, and held her breath as her body plummeted towards the windshield, which now looked like a spiderweb, moonlight reflecting off of the shattered glass.

    Lauren had expected the remaing glass to shatter once her weight hit it, but instead her handcuffed wrist slowed her momentum, and the windshield stayed in place when she hit it.

    She screamed as her broken wrist, imprisoned to the steering wheel, was forced to bend backwards. It felt as though the broken glass that littered the roof of the car had made its way beneath her skin, and was cutting her tendons to shreds.

    But she was alive.

    The car began to shift from her sudden movement, and Lauren looked through the windows to see that she had been caught on two trees. Young enough to be flexible still, they were bent over, straining to release themselve from the weight of the car.

    Realizing that her time was limited beefore the car was sent sliding into the dark waters at the bottom of the incline, Lauren gingerly stretched out, trying desperatly to reach far enough to grab the man hanging by his foot. At the same time, she didn’t want to dislodge the car with her shifting weight.

    Success!

    She was able to reach his ankle, and then wrap her elbow around the steering wheel, allowing her to slowly pull the bleeding body back through the broken windshield, not caring as the jagged edges sliced into his skin.

    Then she heard it. A soft groan. He was still alive!

    New panic coursed through her veins, temporarily blocking out all pain. She eased his body against the windshield, praying he would not wake up.

    Now which pocket was his key in? His left side pocket? Yes! This was it!

    She grasped the key, trying desperatly not to lose control of her emotions, moving slowly so as not to unbalence the car, she eased the key into the lock, and turned.

    Click.

    Moving quickly now she freed her wrist from the confines of the metal chains and carefully stepped over the man, still lying on the spiderweb glass windshield.

    There was only one way out. Through the hole his body had made when he was ejected during the crash. But if she climbed out, and the car fell the rest of the way down, she would be crushed. There was no other choice.

    Lauren took one last deep breath, then quickly forced her legs out of the hole in the glass. The groaning of metal, and the slapping of tree branches chased her as she slipped out, the tilting of the car forcing her the rest of the way.

    Pain shot through her legs, and raced into her back as she hit the ground, but she didn’t stop. Rather she curled into a ball as a shockwave resonated behind her. The car had been released from the trees, and landed nose first behind her, leaning over to crush her.

    Lauren used her momentum to carry her foward, rolling down, and then twisting to the side, as the vehicle somersaulted once, then was launched off the incline, sailing down, and landing with an echoing splash into the dark waters.

    Standing up, shaking, Lauren took one long look at the ripples the sinking car had left, the only evidence that it had been there. Then she smiled.

    “Free” she said the word softly. Then louder: “I’m FREE”, and she turned, not once looking back, and began to slowly, painfully, climb the incline to the road.

  • http://a-little-more-sonic.blogspot.com/ Rachel

    She cursed aloud and dropped her head, a movement that accentuated the pounding in her skull and threatened to make her relive that awful Blue Plate Special from the greasy diner they’d stopped at early in the evening. She’d tried to signal to the bored waitress that something was wrong, but the woman either was too dense to notice or too apathetic to care. Lauren had even contemplated using the old sneak-out-the-bathroom-window trick, but when she asked she’d been directed to a tiny outhouse 10 yards behind the diner, a building with no windows and one door. One door, guarded by a small wasp nest and by the man who had insisted on accompanying her.

    The car creaked and shifted, bringing Lauren back to the present with a start. She had to get out of here, and fast. She fumbled for her cell phone with her left hand and flipped it open. Its screen was cracked, but it still lit up enough for her to make out… no signal. She dropped it and smacked the steering wheel in frustration, eliciting another groan from the chassis. She dared a glance at the man on the hood, but he still hadn’t moved. Now that she could see better, she noted the darkness of blood on his face, the matte black of the semi-automatic Glock still in the drop holster on his thigh, and the glint of something silver in the moonlight, just barely peeking out of his rear pocket. Her heart leaped; it was the key. And it was almost within reach.

    She took a deep breath and braced herself the best she could with her broken arm as she released her seatbelt with a click. Her arm didn’t hold up, of course, and her cry of pain mingled with the wail of the car horn that now bore her full weight. She shoved hard against the car door and managed to roll off the steering wheel and onto her back near the radio. The last faint echoes of car horn died away as she lay gasping for breath, waiting for the pain in her hand to die down to a dull throb.

    She had no idea how long she lay there, but finally she gathered her will and strength, reaching up to feel for the broken edge of the windshield. She felt the man’s boot by her ear, and when she brushed it with her elbow it moved. In a moment of panic she was sure she’d dislodged him and that he and the key were tumbling straight into the river. But his right foot was still firmly stuck in the corner of the windshield, so she carefully scooted further up, fingers working against sodden jeans until finally she found the straps of the thigh holster.

    She tried unsnapping the holster altogether, but her awkward position and left hand made it difficult. So she settled for gradually working the gun out, being careful not to drop it, and shoving it into the waistband of her own jeans. She would never forget the sound it made: not a sharp “bang, bang” as children like to shout when they play war, but more of an understated “boom, boom” that sent Lauren’s fiancé Sean and their next door neighbor both crumpling to the ground as this—psychopath– shoved her into the car and told her to drive.

    Lauren swallowed back tears of rage. “Focus, girl,” she snapped at herself. She stretched once more toward the key, ignoring the pull on her handcuffed, broken wrist, and finally, just as she was about to give up, her fingers were on it. She breathed a prayer of thanks, then pulled out the key and the man’s wallet. Energized, she pulled herself back inside the car, back still to the radio, and reached over with her left hand to undo the handcuff. With a click, she was free.

    Thankfully her door wasn’t stuck, so she quickly scrambled out of the still precariously-perched car, and rested on the ground, tired but exhilarated. Then, remembering the wallet, she held it up to the moonlight and opened it. Inside the wallet was a photo ID of the man, and a badge, both reading: James Frost, FBI.

    Lauren’s heart sank as she looked over to the wrecked car and the man hanging from the blood-slicked hood. “Dear God, what have I done?”

  • http://a-little-more-sonic.blogspot.com/ Rachel

    The title of my piece is: “Accidental”

  • Victoria Drew

    The Handcuffs

    The tang of pine and damp earth hung on the air, but it was the pungent smell of gas that pulled her out of that thin place between waking and dying.
    With a loud gasp, Lauren took a breath. Then another. The night air reached deep into her lungs and awakened pain that spread through her arms and legs until every fiber caught fire.
    But pain meant feeling, and feeling anything meant one thing: she was alive.
    She blinked, eyes drifted right then left. The world was a jumble of smudges and blurred shadow just out of reach. But slowly, forms and lines emerged then forced themselves into place like living puzzle pieces.
    She was in a car. No, her car. She hung from the driver’s seat, her body weight held by a taut seatbelt that cut deep across her chest. Gravity tugged, but the strap kept her from tumbling through the crackled skin that had once been the windshield. To her right, the glass had crumpled and given way to a wide hole on the passenger’s side.
    A faint smile nudged her lips. It had worked. She had nearly killed herself doing it, but it had worked.
    The car was pitched nose down, almost vertical. It must have come to rest on a rock or tree on the hillside. Below her, no more than twenty feet away, slate colored water churned through rocks that glistened in faint moonlight.
    Her eyes flitted back and forth. Where was the man?
    Then her eyes saw him. There on the hood lay a lifeless lump of shadow. She froze and watched him for what felt like an eternity, but he never moved. The only thing that kept him from sliding completely off the hood was a jagged corner of windshield that had snagged his shoe.
    She had taken a gamble and it had paid off. Sure, driving her car over the edge off a mountain road was three kinds of crazy, but so was doing nothing. She couldn’t just do nothing. If she was going to die, it would be on her terms and not someone else’s. And definitely not a killer’s.
    “C’mon, girl. Get moving,” Lauren whispered to herself.
    Lauren’s eyes focused nearer, to the dashboard just beneath her. Pale green light bled into the car. Her eyes traced the curve of the steering wheel to a silver ring hooked near the bottom. She tugged once. A faint metallic clink answered back. She yanked her right hand again, this time harder, but the cold steel of the handcuff bit back so hard it nearly took her breath away. She bit back a yell. Broken in the crash, her hand had swelled to twice its normal size. She had to get free. She must get free. But the only way to get free was a key.
    And that was in the man’s pocket.
    Her head spun at the implications. No scenario her vivid imagination could surrender would help her out of the mess she had created. Her pride at the ingenuity of her plan to get away was quickly being shadowed by debilitating despair. With no way out eventually her psycho would wake up. She’d be in the same predicament as before. Or he would lose his patience and kill her. She felt like a bird in a cage flapping her wings against the metal bars to get free and only succeeding in tearing her feathers to shreds.
    Could she risk unbuckling her lifeline to get the key?
    If she managed to endure the pain of hanging by the cuffs she might be able to drag the ragdoll body to her and free herself. With shaking fingers she unbuckled her seatbelt. The jerk of gravity propelled her forward through empty space until she stopped with an earsplitting scream as the handcuff chomped on her swelled and broken hand. She clapped her left hand over her mouth and looked anxiously at the man spread eagled on the windshield. Through eyes blurred with unshed tears she saw a tiny twitch in his foot.
    No. No. No.
    With that tiny twitch the man’s socked foot slipped out of the shoe holding him to the car. Time moved sluggishly and she watched horror struck as the man slipped inch by inch down the hood of the car gaining momentum. She swung through the place where the windshield had been ignoring the acid that shot through her hand as she did so. With a desperate grasp she clutched his pant leg.
    “You did it Lauren,” she said to herself, “You did it. Now just reel him in…All you have to do is reel him in.”
    She struggled and flailed as her arm muscles screeched at her to stop pulling the dead weight she was attempting to get back in the car. Then with a sickening pop she felt the cuff slide up past her wrist. Her eyes went wide with comprehension and she realized she couldnt carry them both.
    Trapped or Dead.
    Her choices sucked. The tears finally fell as the pain and situation became too much for her to bear. She slowly unfurled her hand and sniffled as the body rolled itself off the car. She grasped the silver chain of the cuff with her left hand and pulled herself up. Curled into the seat she bit her lip to stop the crying , her hand was a mass of throbbing pain. Her last hope was gone. She would rot into a skeleton here.
    Cynically, she thought it might be karma for the small things she’d done in life. Perhaps her ignorance of the religion she’d been brought up in. God help me. She thought. On impulse she jerked her hands so they met palm to palm and bowed her head. God help me. She whispered in her mind over and over. Silence seemed to reverberate around her. With a pained sob she threw her hands in the air, frustrated and begging. Her right hand flared with pain as the metal cuff crushed and squished broken bones. The swelled skin felt as though it was encased in dry ice.
    Then she was sliding down towards the windshield again. Her left hand gripped the handle above her to stop her descent. Her ears picked up a clattering ringing noise right near her and her eyes caught a glint of sliver swinging. With astonishment she realized the handcuff once attached firmly to her wrist had slipped off due to her broken bones. She sobbed with relief. Her plan had worked. Her gamble brought her the jackpot.

  • Marissa

    “The Last Hope”

    What could she do? Here she was, hanging off the side of a clif. How was she going to get the key in the man’s pocket now? Lauren reached for her seatbelt buckle, she braced herself as she fell against the steering wheel. She screamed as her swollen hand chaffed against the chains that bound her to the car. The car shifted, “No!” she screamed.

    Then she saw it, the man groaned and rolled over. He was still alive! Could she reach his pocket before the car plunged to her, and his, death?

    Praying silently she opened her car door and leaned out, which pocket was it in? She strained against the handcuffs as she reached for his pocket, not there! She reached a little further and there it was!

    The key to her freedom, she seized the key in her fist and slowly pulled herself back into the car. Putting the key in the handcuffs, she unlocked them and pulled them off her swollen hand.

    Now for an even harder task; Laured cradled her broken hand close to her and began to pull herself out of the car. The car shifted and groaned, she stopped and looked at the churning water below her. “Please let me make it” she whispered aloud.

    She slowly moved toward the bank, and just as the car groaned loudly she jumped to safety. “I made it” she said, “I made it!”

    Lauren looked in the faint moonlight for any sign of hope, then she saw it, the road! She began slowly climbing up the hill, hoping that she could find safety before anything else went wrong…

  • Nathan

    Love that twist at the end Rachel!

  • Noreen

    Freedom?

    She frantically looked around, desperate to find a way to get to the man to retrieve the key.

    “Calm down” Lauren commanded herself, “you can’t think if you’re panicking.” Taking a few deep breaths, she looked around at her surroundings again, weighing different scenarios. She could try to pull him back inside so she could reach his pocket. No, he would be too heavy. She wondered if she could reach his pocket by breaking her side of the windshield…but again, no. The steering column was in the way. Oh, why hadn’t she thought it all through, before driving off the road, she whimpered? She knew full well why. She was determined not to be a part of his crime, however unwittingly.

    “Grrr!” She had to do something, anything! She couldn’t just hang here and slowly die. She had risked too much for that! Now she was angry. That was good. With anger came a rush of adrenalin as her fight or flight response kicked in. This also served to sharpen her thinking. She did not dare unhook the seat belt, because that would only release her to fall through the glass and die hanging from her handcuffed wrist; not an option. She screamed in frustration and pain. She decided that really she had no choice but try to pull the man back through the windshield to reach his pocket.

    Taking a deep breath, Lauren squirmed around attempting to reach across herself to grab the man’s ankle. Ignoring the pain, she stretched as far as she could. “Al-most,” uh,” got- it” she grunted. “Just-a-little-further,” mmmpf. “Ah, got it!” Now what? All well and good but the effort it took her to maneuver around to grab his ankle had exhausted most of the strength the adrenalin had infused. Tears began dripping from her eyes, clouding her vision. “ Stop!” Lauren growled through gritted teeth. As fear and anger rise in her, coupled with her desire to live, a fresh surge of strength flowed through her as she tugged and pulled his ankle, inch by tiny inch.

    She succeeded in pulling him back through a few inches, but that was hardly enough. The force of gravity and his dead weight was just too much. It was then that she heard it. Or was her mind just playing tricks on her? In the distance, far above her, she thought she could hear the faint sound of someone yelling. She could not discern words, but she swore she could hear someone. Could it be? Hope made her heart pound. “Oh, please God, please let it be true.” She forced her mind to concentrate on trying to hear. Once she did that, she stopped thinking about holding onto the man’s ankle, and as a result, he dropped from her grasp, back through the hole falling, sliding off the hood of the car to land with a splash into the murky water. “Oh no!” she wailed to herself. “Nooooo!”

    She felt a lump form in her throat as she slumped back over her imprisoned arm. Then she heard some noise poking through her shroud of self pity. Yes! She did indeed hear yelling! Her heart jumped and she tried to scream, but her mouth was so dry, and the lump in her throat prevented any sound beyond a croak from passing her lips. The yelling came closer until she could actually hear words. There were two men. One of the men called to the other to help him. They came closer and she could hear the first man say to the second “Is there anyone in there Cal? The one called Cal then moved slowly to the side of the car to look in through the back window. Catching sight of Lauren, he yelled back, “Yeah, the chick’s in there, no sign of Gary.”
    Lauren lifted up her free arm to indicate she was alive. Cal then called to the other man who made his way carefully to the back of the car. The second man then said to Cal, “Help me with this will you?” They then proceeded to rock the car from side to side. Lauren croaked as loud as she could to get them to stop, but they just rocked the car harder. Suddenly she felt herself falling, faster and faster; then she blacked out.

  • http://www.FictionAddict.com Jake Chism

    “Gravity”

    The world was upside down.

    A mixture of blood and gasoline spilled into Rodney’s mouth bringing stark clarity. He realized quickly that he was the one who was upside down, but that didn’t mean the world was as it should be. In a flash it all came back.

    The call from the man who had his daughter. The detailed file on Lauren giving him all of the information he would need to hunt her down. Suddenly the hopelessness and despair came crashing in again as the gravity of the situation weighed in. In order to save his daughter he had to kill someone else’s.

    Rodney winced as he strained his head into position to see exactly what was keeping him suspended. He didn’t actually feel the windshield glass embedded in his foot until he saw it. White, hot pain traveled down his body ending in a suppressed, yet anguished groan. The training had never left him, no matter how much he had tried to outrun the past. Never let pain control your circumstances. Block it out, tolerate it, or embrace it if you must. Never let it win.

    Even the slightest move brought unbearable agony as the glass slowly eased itself out of his foot. He quickly glanced around to see his options. The easiest thing to do would be to fall to the water below and try to swim his way out and double back. By then any number of scenarios could play out that would work against him. Surely by now the police had been notified of the accident and were either on their way or already there. The water below was churning by rapidly and it was doubtful he’d be able to get out quickly and he couldn’t see any clear spots on the nearby shoreline. No, if he was going in the water, Lauren was coming with him.

    He eased his head up slightly to investigate the car. The front bumper was even with his knees, but that seemed miles away as the pain in his foot intensified. Rodney closed his eyes and prepared himself for what he had to do. He had one shot to get this right, and it all depended on whether or not he could handle the pain.

    He flooded his mind with memories of his daughter. Her first steps, the first time she said “Daddy”, even the first time she rolled her eyes at him and stomped off into her room. She was all he had in this world and he could never go on without her. Rodney would do anything to get her back. He would even kill again.

    His eyes snapped open and he let the training take over. Never let the pain win. In one swift motion he swung up and grabbed the edge of the bumper. As his unearthly screams pierced the night air he reached up with his free hand and pulled his foot free from the shard. Blood spewed from the wound and sprinkled the inky depths below, but Rodney never noticed. It was time to end this so he could bring home his baby.

  • http://www.exegeek.com Jeremy McNabb

    Lauren considered her options. Even if she had the nerve to swing out from the car by her wrist to fetch the key, she had neither the reach, nor the pain tolerance. And pulling him back up by his foot wasn’t an option, either. He was too large for that. She leaned forward for a better view.

    If she turned the wheel a bit, and reached as far as she could, she might be able to grab a pocket of his cargo pants with her free hand. From there, she could pull his pants down—or up, as the case might be.

    While she didn’t relish the thought of undressing a dead man, particularly this one, survival was higher on her priority list than dignity or decency. She braced herself with her knees and freed herself from the seatbelt. Gravity tried to take her, but her handcuffed wrist fought for her right to remain where she was.

    As it turned out, she didn’t need to turn the wheel to reach the cuff of his pants, nor did she have to pull hard to retrieve his drawers. But another problem became quickly obvious when her cell phone, which he had taken from her, tumbled from his pocket to the water below. It was followed by something that might have been a Swiss Army knife.

    “No, no,” she hollered. If the key fell out, that was the end of it. There would be no escape. The hip pockets were still too far away to reach, and any additional tugging might dislodge the key that had been tenacious enough thus far, to keep from falling.

    She looked around the car for help. There was plenty of junk to sift through, but very little of it that could be of any use. The window crank on the passenger side had broken off, along with a large chunk of plastic, and the stereo speaker.

    A single bobby pin stuck to the side of speaker. Because of the magnet.

    Lauren hooked the slack from the man’s pants over a shard of broken windshield, and reached for the speaker. It came free with almost a foot of speaker wire still attached.

    Thank you, God.

    She separated the two speaker wires, and tied them together, doubling the magnet’s reach. This might actually work.
    When she lowered the speaker over the dash, it immediately clung to the hood of the car, but the magnet was heavy enough that it slid down the sheet metal just fine. Something in the man’s pocket tugged through the fabric to get at the speaker.

    The key?

    She gave the wire a little more slack and her makeshift lure slid past the opening of the pocket. A loud clink coincided with the appearance of the key. It worked?

    It had. Lauren reeled her contraption into the cab of the car, still in disbelief that her plan had succeeded. The key felt unreal in her hand, but there it was. A second later, and her swollen hand was free.

    Using her good hand, and her two feet, she climbed out of the car, through the driver’s side window, and back up to the road. The moon was a quarter-full and she collapsed under its diminished light. Any minute, someone would come down the road and spot her. Take her back to civilization.

    Any minute now.

  • http://www.facebook.com/beccajcampbell Rebecca Campbell

    “Over the Edge”

    In the green light glowing from the console’s digital display, she searched for anything with which to free herself from the handcuff. In front of her, jammed between the dash and the windshield, sat the killer’s other shoe. She looked to her right, and then she saw it. The glinting metal handle of the killer’s knife protruding at a right angle from the armrest, where nearly half of its six inch shank was embedded, only inches from her arm. It must have happened in the crash…

    She slung her left arm across her body and gripped the handle, pulling with as much force as she could muster while wincing at the pain that the position caused her right hand. Finally, it came loose.

    Firmly gripping the knife with her left hand, she tried to cut the steel chains holding the handcuffs together. Her repeated efforts, growing with fervor and desperation, barely scratched the surface of the metal. After what seemed like hours of trying, she stopped. Panting for breath, she tried to regain control of her thoughts.

    She was hundreds of miles from home. No one knew where she was. Even when they discovered her missing, it might be days…weeks before the search parties branched out this far. She had no doubt that the steep, winding road along the mountain above her was little traveled – she was completely out in the wilderness, miles from any type of civilization.

    How long could she survive in this state? With no food, no water and a broken hand?

    She stared at the knife in her hand, wondering what aid it could provide her in this dire situation. Then her gaze turned to her wounded hand. The revelation hit her like a punch in the gut.

    No. NO!

    I can’t do it. I CAN’T.

    Could she do it? If it really meant life or death, could she cut off her own hand? She looked at the blade. It was sharp. It would cut through flesh. The deep gash in the armrest was proof enough of that. Would it cut through bone? Would the fact that some of those bones were already broken make it any easier? Oh, God! Every conscious thought in her mind defied the idea. She racked her brain, trying to remember anything from anatomy class in high school. She had never done well in the subject. Weren’t there ligaments and tissues holding the bones together? Maybe she could use the knife to sever them somehow…her mind reeled at the prospect and a wave of nausea overtook her.

    Lauren needed to focus. She shook her head violently to clear it. She would need a tourniquet. Her belt? Quickly, she undid the buckle with her left hand and pulled it through the loops. Could she somehow salvage her hand once it was removed? Would there be a way to reattach it later? She scanned the car for a container of some sort, anything that she could put it in. The shoe.

    As the realization of what she was about to do sunk in, she rebelled from the idea, sawing at the handcuffs with the knife again so violently that the entire car shook. And then it was moving, falling.

    Everything seemed to happen in slow motion – the car tipping forward, over end, over the edge until it was upside down and falling. It plunged into the deep, rushing water. The body still lay against the windshield, now being pushed through the opening by the suction of the water which was quickly rushing through the hole in the windshield.

    Unlatching her seatbelt, she groped the cold, black water, reaching for him – for the key. Straining against the cuff on her right hand, she pawed at the body, finally making contact with his jeans. Hoping that she had found the right pocket, she dug her hand inside and retrieved the small silver object.

    The car was now over half full of water and filling rapidly.
    Shaking with cold and adrenaline, she fumbled at the lock, finally getting the key to turn and release her injured hand. She grasped the handle of the car door and prayed that her experience on the swim team would benefit her now, if never before.

    She took a deep breath and with all her might, shoved the door open.

  • Adam Weisenburger

    “A Bad Feeling”

    Lauren took a deep breath against the rising panic hammering on her heart to spread its poison. She needed to think and not rashly. What assets did she have?

    In the poor lighting nothing caught her immediate attention after her eyes made a few sweeps across the backseat. Her book bag lay behind her along with french fries scattered around from her last trip to McDonald’s. Maybe something in the glove box. She reached for the handle with her left hand, but felt the chain of the cuffs tug taut and threaten to shift her bones uncomfortably again.

    New tactic. She bent her knees and braced her feet on the dashboard knowing as soon as she unclipped her seatbelt she would fall to the pedals otherwise. The buckle clicked as she released her weight onto her legs. More tiring this way, but she could reach whatever hope may be stored in the glove box.
    With careful footing Lauren turned counter-clockwise to move her left foot around the steering wheel and extend the reach of her left hand. White light poured from the compartment when she pulled the tab and it shone onto the black interior.

    Unpaid parking ticket, proof of insurance and a few other bills cuddled together fearing the same thing she did. Any second the car would slip and send her screaming into the water below where she would fight in vain against her chain before her body forced her to gasp water into her lungs.

    “Think Lauren, think.” She told her self. “There has to be a way out.”

    No matter how she disassembled and reconfigured the problem in her mind it all added up to one thing. She needed the key.

    The key that was still in his pocket. In the killer’s pocket. The killer whose face was still plastered against the white hood, splotched red with his blood that dripped toward the water below.

    Shivers went up and down her spine as she remembered everything he said he planned to do to her. Fortunately the gun he had then wasn’t in his possession any longer.

    The thought crossed her mind to try and pull him toward her to rescue the key, but he wasn’t a small man and she wasn’t the most brawny woman. What if she could pick the lock somehow? She hadn’t the slightest clue how, but TV made it look simple enough. One of the bobby pins in her hair might do the trick.

    Lauren slid to her rear on the dash above the CD player. Half of her brown hair fell out of place as she pulled the pin and tried the tumbler.

    Groans came from behind. She couldn’t imagine how in the world he’d survived his flight through the windshield. He looked over his shoulder at her about ten feet above him, smiling.

    He laughed.

    “You are without a doubt the craziest woman on the face of God’s green Earth.” He said. “Too bad crazy hasn’t earned you a thing today.”

    “Throw me the key to the cuffs now or I’ll bust out the glass that’s holding you.”

    He laughed again.

    Clearly this man didn’t value his life, but she still valued hers so she reconsidered letting the keys fall with him.

    “Goodbye Lauren.” He said.

    He pushed himself away from the vehicle and allowed his body to slam against the hood. Metal scraped underneath her as the car shifted. The mass of blood and clothing pushed again and the glass broke free from his shoe. His blood smeared all the more as he slid and the car tipped forward from his weight. He pulled the jaguar shaped hood ornament from its place just before he fell out of sight.

    Her car tipped forward and flipped end over end until it splashed into icy water. The cold instantly penetrated her body when the water rushed into greet her, but despite the cold her hand was on fire. She gasped at the air before her car submerged.

    Holding the oxygen with all her might, she remembered what her Mother said before she left for the blind date.

    “Lauren, honey. I just have a bad feeling about this.” She’d said.

    “Well Mom, you were right.” Lauren thought.

    Her body convulsed until she gave up the air and liquid filled her lungs.

  • Tori Thompson

    “Breath”

    Lauren’s breathing began to come in shorter, quicker gasps, her victory all but forgotten as her courage crumpled and panic began to grip her heart. She forced herself to breathe, pulling in long, shaky gulps of air. She had to focus, had to think! Even in his death, this man still was able to control her. Fear gripped her as she thought of reaching out, touching him, digging in his pocket for that key. And what if it wasn’t in there? What if the force of the crash and the man’s momentum as he flew through the windshield had been enough to throw the key out of his pocket, into the valley below? And what if he was still alive? What if she reached in his pocket and found, not the key, but his own hand gripping her wrist in a vice? She would die here…

    No! She tugged on her right hand again, the pain bringing her mind back to stunning reality, clearing her thoughts of everything but a need to end the pain. She focused on the pain. Because pain meant feeling. And so long as she was feeling, so long as she was living, she wasn’t going to just sit there and wait for the end to come, wait for the car to shift and send them down into the water below…
    Lauren pulled in more gulps of air, trying so hard not to think what it will be like when she’s gulping in water, not air. Thoughts of being trapped, in this car, with this man so close to her, handcuffed to the steering wheel and unable to swim away as the water comes crashing in, flooding her lungs; her breath slowly leaves her as she struggles to get out, to get to the surface, to breathe again…

    “Stop it, Lauren!” she yelled at herself. “You can breathe right now. Stop wasting it!” Yes, she told herself. You can still breathe. So long as there is still air in your lungs, you sure as hell had better use it.

    Taking a deep breath, she began to pull her legs up, close to her chest. She brought her feet up to press against the dash, pushing herself back into the seat. It hurt to put weight on her legs, but the pain brought clarity, reminding her that she was still alive. So she brought her left hand down to unlatch the seatbelt that had saved her life. With the restraint gone, releasing the pressure on her chest, Lauren found herself able to breathe easier. She took longer, deeper breaths with less effort, and it gave her a small feeling of triumph; she could breathe!

    With the strength she found during this little victory, Lauren braced herself against the dashboard and reached her left hand out towards the man. She focused on her pain, not on the fear that tried to grip her. The key would be there. He wouldn’t wake up. The key was in his right pocket, and she had to stretch out to reach around his back, putting more force on her right arm than she wanted to. But if she could push through the pain…

    There! Her fingertips touched the cool metal of the tiny key. She gripped it, pulled it out…and nearly screamed in victory as she pulled back her prize. She scrambled back, unlocked the cuff that kept her wrist in a vice, and almost let out a laugh; but it died in her throat when a hand grabbed hers, bringing the pain back in a heart-stopping stab. And she knew whose hand it was… She turned her eyes up slightly, afraid of what she knew she would see, and the air left her lungs in a sudden rush.

    He was grinning at her, blood dripping from his mouth.

    She lost her footing on the dash, and slid forward, gravity finally embracing her. The windshield shattered as soon as she touched it; she fell through, and he came with her, letting out a cry that split the night.

    And in one last moment of clarity, she filled her lungs with as much air as she could as they tumbled into the ice-cold river below. Because so long as there was still air in her lungs, she was sure as hell going to use it.

  • http://coryclubb.blogspot.com/ Cory Clubb

    One Bullet.

    Gray clouds parted above revealing a half glowing moon further illuminating Lauren’s grave situation. She knew what she had to do, but physically and mentally she was drained, she had been running for so long. With her left hand she pulled on the chain that linked her to her deathtrap. It was useless. Lauren’s strength was depleted she couldn’t go on. With her wrist tightly bound to the wheel there was no way she would be able to reach down to the man’s pocket for the keys.
    In defeat she closed her eyes and began to weep.
    Everything was lost.

    Suddenly, her ears picked up a faint murmur. Lauren shot open her eyes directly to the man, no the monster, who dangled from the car’s hold. He hadn’t moved. Then where had she heard the voice? Again a small outcry, stifled but audible, it came from the trunk.

    Her beating heart skipped and Lauren gasped as her mind came to the realization.
    JOEL! He was alive.
    Her tears changed from despairing to joy. Turning her head upward toward the back end of the car she whispered her son’s name.
    “Joel?”
    Silence and then, “…mom?”
    Lauren’s body rose with goose bumps, she thought she would never see him again.
    That monster, that freak had lied to her and to think the things she had done under his pretense. Joel had been with them the entire time.
    She could hear the boy’s whimpers. “Its ok baby, I’m here.”

    Suddenly the car’s frame lurched down then caught itself. Lauren let a short scream escape her lips. Her body still held suspend in the buckle’s restraint. Now was not the time to give up, yet it still seemed impossible to get the cuff keys. If she wouldn’t be able to make it out, maybe she could give Joel a chance. From the dash controls she released the trunk door, giving Joel freedom. That simple little twinge of hope kept her going. Lauren’s swollen eyes searched the car. There, caught in the windshield’s cracked web she spotted the monster’s gun; she knew it all too well. He must have dropped it when they went over the ridge.

    She knew what she had to do.

    Lauren reached across her body with her trembling left hand and depressed the seatbelt. In an instant gravity pulled her over the steering wheel, the horn ripping out across the water. She landed on the broken windshield her right wrist snapping again on the way down. Pain surged through her arm as she screamed out. The car rocked a bit, but surprisingly the windshield held.

    She could see the night air in the form of her breath in front of her as she fumbled for the firearm. Ever so gently Lauren positioned herself, the gun in hand. Sliding the clip from the handle it revealed only one bullet. The real question was would her idea work?

    Another moan was brought to her attention this time it came from the front of the car. The man had awoken. Lauren heard him cuss loudly as he took in the surroundings of his own predicament and then he spotted her yelling more profanity.

    With her heart racing, adrenaline pumping, she accidentally pulled down with her right hand on the wheel. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The front steering column creaked out a groan as the vehicle shifted. The metal beast twisted to its right and fell clockwise like a giant pendulum. Lauren screamed as the car swung down toward the raging river below. From the rear Joel too let out a voice crackling scream of terror. A hulling force jerked the vehicle to a swinging stop just over the waters.

    In that rocketing moment everything changed position. The front steering column held tight to the thick trees it had encountered upon first impact. Somehow Lauren had held on to the steering wheel. But her troubles had just gotten worse. Flailing by his fingertips on the edge of the trunk door, Lauren could see Joel’s figure through the back window gripping on for dear life. Not only did they survive the tumble so did the monster that was now above her. She could see his toothy smile through the cracked glass. What would be her next move? The thought weighed heavy in her mind as did the gun in her grip.

    A single bullet.

  • Mary

    Darkness

    “You have to get yourself out of here.” Lauren pressured herself.

    Her thumping head could not think any more. She felt sweat drip down her forehead despite her body becoming colder. She automatically pulled her right hand up to wipe it forgetting she was attached to the handcuffs. The arm screamed out in pain and began to throb. She raised her left hand over to the right side of her face to wipe it realizing it was blood not sweat. She must have hit her head on the steering wheel she thought. Her head felt that it was going to explode. She was getting colder and her body started to shake.

    Lauren had to think of a solution but it felt impossible at the moment. She was never one to give up but she was fighting against her body. It was starting to become numb but when she tried to move her upper body, the shearing pain ran from one end of her body to the other. First, she needed to get the key. She had to free herself from this nightmare.

    Lauren closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them she saw her brother sitting in the car with her. They had always been close. The way they grew up and what they had been through, forced them to rely on one another. She could always count on him and he could count on her.

    “I am coming for you.” he whispered. “I won’t let you die.” she heard him say.
    “I need you. Please come and get me.” she told him. She looked out and the sun was beginning to shine. She noticed a pathway of flowers pulling her to follow it. “This is the way” she heard through the wind. Follow me. I am the way. She felt at peace. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again the beautiful flowers and path were gone. She was still trapped. She wanted her brother to come back. He would save her. At this moment, she needed a savior.

    Lauren knew that if she did not try something soon, she would lose consciousness. Her body was cool and clammy. Pushing through the pain, her arm pushed against the seat belt trying to reach through the mangled windshield. Ragged glass cut near her wrist.…Arrrggggg….she screamed. It was the only way out of here. She used her free arm to push against the seat but her foot was caught under the pedal. She pulled her foot repeatedly back and forth but it did not come free. Pulling harder her foot was released but without her shoe. She was starting to make some progress. She was closer but she was still not close enough to reach the man. Her body was caught by the seat belt. Lauren needed to turn her body to get close enough. As she twisted her body, it pulsated with pain. Just a little further she told herself and she would have the key. All of a sudden, her body became free pushing in the right direction of the windshield. Her hand was close enough to his body, almost to the key when she heard a loud screeching scraping sound of metal. The car was beginning to shift. Her heart skipped a beat. She immediately stopped and shifted her weight back. She noticed the man’s lifeless body bobbed on the hood.

    A glint of light hinted somewhere in the distance above her. The light was coming closer. It had to be coming closer. Through the pain she screamed for help. Then the light disappeared into the horizon. Her head pushed back against the seat letting out a sigh. Just as her head hit the seat the faint smell of gas wafted in her direction. Lauren had to do something now.

    “Use the small metal ring around your keys.” she heard her brother say.

    She grabbed the ring extricating the keys. Her rigid hands, twisted the metal straightening it out, then placing it into the handcuffs. She jiggled it back and forth. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement. It was the man and his hand was moving in her direction. The car began to rock and shift from it position. The noxious gas fumes started to get stronger. She just needed one more minute.

  • http://www.elyonscircle.com/blogs/girlwithasong1133 Megan

    (I apologize for any mistakes. I’m sick. But I had to take up this challenge. (: )

    “Escape.”

    This man, he was the one who had enslaved her. Taken her captive. And this was her last chance to escape.

    She had to think. How could she get out? Her eyes ran across the contents of her car, which were now scattered. The man, no doubt, would have combed over her car and removed anything she could use to escape. But she had to try and look. Not when she was this close to freedom. Her eyes went to the cup holders in the center of the car. Three quarters stuck inside the lip of the first holder. Behind the cup holders, a storage box. Lauren tried to lift up her left arm. She was greeted by a stab of pain. Looking over, she saw a small shard of glass embedded in her arm. Blood streamed from the cut.

    She had to lift up her arm, she had to get free. Again, Lauren lifted up her arm, desperately trying to ignore the pain. It lifted. She bit her lip in an attempt not to scream. She shifted her body to the right, keeping her right arm as steady as possible. Having to deal with pain from both arms would be impossible and might knock her out. With the fingers on her left arm, she tried to grasp open the handle. It popped open. Lauren gasped, realizing that she had been holding her breath, her teeth also releasing their hold on her lip. Her gaze went into the box, desperate to find something, anything that would help her. Nothing, she could not see anything solid inside. Gritting her teeth, she reached her fingers inside and felt.

    Dust, she felt that immediately. Small clumps of dust. As if someone had gone through it before her. She kept her fingers moving through the pain, kept feeling the bottom. Fingers kept moving. Reaching the back right hand corner of the box, she felt something solid. It was wedged into the corner. Lauren gripped her fingers around all that she could grasp and started to tug. Her arm flared in pain. She released her grip, she was using too much strength. Her shallow breaths came out one after the other. In her head she counted, one two three four five. On five, she reached around and tugged.

    The object came loose. She, again, took seconds to rest. Breathing. Ten seconds this time. Bringing the object up to her eyes, she saw it was a safety pin. Perfect. She shifted her body back to its regular seating in the car, looking straight ahead. The man still hadn’t moved. With her left hand, she undid the safely pin. It came open quickly. She reached forward and jammed the safety pin into the lock, jimmying it around.

    Click. The sound had never been so welcome to Lauren’s ears. The cuff fell off her wrist. Turning, she looked towards the door. Listening she only heard the sounds of water. No cars, no sirens. Using her left hand, she opened the door. Despite the pain, she was grateful to be escaping. She swung her left leg out of the car. It was stiff but uninjured. Same with the right leg. Cautiously, she put her feet on the ground. Solid. After a breath, she began to put her wait on both feet. A tug pulled on her. The seat belt. She turned her body back inside the car, both legs still outside. She moved her right hand, relishing the day when she would be pain-free again. She pushed the button and unbuckled her seat-belt.

    Turned back, eager to escape, she put her weight onto both feet and stepped out. Instead she fell onto the ground. One word echoed through her mind, run. Using her left hand and her legs, she slowly pushed, trying to stand. She successfully made it to her feet.

    “Run Lauren,” a voice in her head screamed.

    In those moments, she took off running into the forest to the right of her car. Not even knowing where she was going. She ran from the wreckage of her past and into the beginning of a future.

  • Kelsie

    “It Doesn’t Pay”

    Which meant she had to get down there. But to get down there, she had to use the key… An impossible circle. Or so it seemed.

    Lauren braced herself. All the relief she’d felt a moment ago at being alive had drained. She couldn’t count herself as safe yet.

    She pressed the release button on her seat belt.

    And then she was falling. She crashed into the dashboard before she had time to think that this might not have been such a good idea after all. Lauren screamed as her whole body slammed into her broken hand.

    She allowed herself time to catch her breath and to clear her mind somewhat from the waves of pain that flashed through her whole body. She leaned forward and touched the front windshield tentatively with her left hand, then shoved. The entire panel of cracked glass cascaded down in splinters over the hood and the shadowed body and disappeared into the murky black night.

    She reached through the open hole where a windshield had once been, but her arm wasn’t long enough to reach his pocket. What now?

    Lauren tried rotating the steering wheel. No such luck. But maybe her wrist could rotate, even if the wheel couldn’t…
    She gritted her teeth and twisted her broken hand around in the cuffs, unable to resist crying out in pain. Once that was done, she swung her legs up and over the dashboard, body now dangling onto the hood, held up only by the metal claw that attached her to the steering wheel and the death grip she had on the wheel with her left hand.

    She was at the man’s level now. She could reach into his pocket and grab the key, no problem. The only thing was, that would mean she had to let go of the wheel with her left hand.

    Lauren didn’t think she could bear the pain of dangling by her broken hand. That was when the wheel finally broke free, rotating violently upward – or downward – following gravity.

    The sudden movement made her lose her grip on the wheel. Her left hand flailed around for some handhold, and she shrieked out against the pain, trying desperately not to lose consciousness. Not like this!

    Her left hand came to rest on the dead man, her attacker. She clutched at him crazily, grabbing for the pocket she’d seen him put the key in. There! A small piece of cold metal touched her palm. She snatched it, working quickly against the blinding tears that stung her eyes. She could hardly bear the waves of pain coming from her right wrist. Her body was going into shock, numbing itself. In an odd way, she was grateful.

    Before Lauren had thought it through, she swung her left hand up and fumbled with the lock on the handcuffs. A loud clink! And then the metal jaws loosened, and she was sliding down the hood.

    No! Wait! She flailed frantically for a handhold, finding none. Then she was falling, tumbling down a steep incline until her head knocked against a rock.

    Lauren fought the blackness that threatened to close in on her mind. She hadn’t been able to save herself. If only she hadn’t gotten tangled up in this kidnapping thing in the first place…if only she’d called the cops when he broke their agreement and started killing people, instead of threatening him herself…

    But it was too late for if onlys. That was her last coherent thought before she succumbed to unconsciousness.

  • Sara

    AHHH! I’m in Australia, I’m out of time! *panic*

    Give me twenty minutes?

  • http://fourwaymindmeld.blogspot.com Arisia

    Fighting to stay conscious, Lauren held still until the pain in her hand subsided to a low roar. It took long enough that she began to panic. She had to get out of here!

    She wasn’t thinking clearly enough to realize what would happen if she succeeded in unbuckling her seat belt. She just bull-doggedly worked at it with her good hand until it gave, which of course plunged her down onto the steering wheel. The car was tilted toward the passenger side, and she slid rapidly in that direction until the handcuff stopped her. With most of her weight hanging from her broken hand, she immediately passed out.

    A gentle breeze lifted a lock of Lauren’s hair from her face. She felt so tired, she barely stirred. Her eyes opened a slit and she groggily watched a humming bird thrust its long beak into a honeysuckle flower. There was a humming in her head, or was that the humming bird’s wings going so fast she couldn’t even see them?

    A dark thought trickled into her mind. There had been something … something about a car. The memory of the accident burst into her awareness, and her eyes flew open wide. She found herself lying on the bank of the gray water.

    The car! She looked up and found it perched against a boulder above her, just where it had landed after her violent exit from the road.

    The man! Where was he? She looked frantically all around, but saw no one. He was no longer on the hood of the car.

    She got shakily to her feet. Then she noticed the handcuff was gone. Her swollen hand still had the marks of it, but it had vanished.

    Who had freed her? Was it the man? Was he alive after all, and about to continue with his original plan?

  • Sara

    Lauren braced herself on the dashboard and, gritting her teeth, released the seat buckle. She dropped with a grunt, rocking the car precariously. She froze again, her heart in her mouth, and waited for the car to still. Finally, taking a deep breath, she leaned towards the man, reaching for his ankle.
    As her fingers wrapped around the man’s leg, she heard a groan. He was alive? Well either way, she had to get the key. She tugged hard, eliciting a cry of pain from the man.
    “Help! Please, help me!” he said, accent thick
    Help him? The man tried to kill her!
    “Why would I help you? You tried to kill me, and even now I’m likely to die because of you. Why should I help you?”
    “I have the key. Please, I can help you, but you have to help me first. I have a family. They need me. ”
    “And you think my family doesn’t need me? This is ridiculous. Just give me the key, you creep!”
    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to kill you, but I had to protect my family. Please, will you help me?”
    The man did seem truly upset. But then, he was dangling upside down from a car wreck only seconds from certain death. Could she trust him? She didn’t really have a choice, did she?
    “Ok, I’ll help you. Give me your hand!”
    The man reached up his hand and Lauren took it, pulling him up slowly. The man groaned in pain, but helped lift his weight as much as possible. At last he lay across the hood just in front of the window screen, exhausted and in pain, but no longer upside down.
    “I need the key, I can’t reach your foot while I’m chained here.”
    The man nodded slightly and reached into his pocket, pulling out the key.
    “Here, take it.”
    Lauren took the key and unlocked the chain. She was free! She leaned across and broke the shard of windscreen that anchored the man to the car.
    “What is your name?” she asked the man. “Who are you?”
    “My name is Mikhael, why do you ask? I am no one, a phantom of the night. I ask no questions and answer none, I just try to stay alive and keep my family alive.”
    Lauren paused, feeling a twinge of guilt for what she was about to do. She squashed the feeling, reminding herself that this was a dangerous man. If he didn’t kill her, he would kill someone else.
    “I ask because I want to know the name of the man who tried to kill me. I want to know the name of the man..” she trailed off slightly, then looking straight into his eyes she finished “I killed. Goodbye Mikhael.”
    She pushed him with a bitter violence that surprised even her, standing stooped through the screen to watch him fall, rocking the car violently as she did so. Mikhael cried out in fear, the sound echoing through the valley before ending abruptly at the water’s edge. He was gone.
    But his wasn’t the only fall. Lauren had rocked the car too far, and it teetered wildly for a minute before plunging down the hill side. Lauren was pushed back in her seat by the momentum. She had no time to get out, though she tried. The car flew over the small bank at the bottom and plunged into the lake’s dark waters. She was still chained. How was that possible? She had unlocked it with the key the man gave her.. the man.. Mikhael..

    [i]What have I done?[/i]

  • KSK

    Such imaginations, my friends. First of all, kudos. I have to say, I’m pretty impressed with some of the twists you came up with–everything from a MacGyver-esque escape to having Lauren cut her own hand off (almost) to, well, drowning her in the frigid river waters (not all stories can have happy endings).

    All of the submissions are worthy stories, and they each took a turn that I hadn’t thought of the way you did. But, as all things like this go, I had to choose.

    But, I had a hard time choosing one. Instead I narrowed it down to two that I think were a little closer to the mark for me in terms of narrative, style, and imagination. Those two are Jake Chism’s submission and Cory Clubb’s.

    Now, here’s the deal…I’m split dead even between them. But, I have a solution: I’m going to let the rest of you judge between your two fellow storytellers.

    We’ll do it secret ballot style and I’ll be the tie breaking vote. Read the two story segments then email me (kevin dot kaiser@creativetrust.com) with your vote: JAKE or CORY. I’ll compile the results and make the announcement tomorrow.

    You guys rock. I’m glad you all have decided to work at your craft and are putting your stuff out there.

    Looking forward to your votes. Be heard. We can’t keep these guys hanging for too long. : )