Hoist the colors, proud storytellers!
account! You all gave your best in this 21st week and a lot of action flourished like a rose of shotgun's shells in a Those's chest.
writing here, your all-time bananafish prophet. As you know, today we're going to concentrate in one post both the awards and the week #22 story, hence I'll try to be brief ..but I don't grant the respect of the bloody 500 words limit ;-)
Before the news, a special thanks to 
What's boiling in the bananafish kitchen (the news!)
Rowan
Joyce, who's also today's guest of honor for the first part of the story, will donate 5 of the 8 SBI in the pot for this week #22. He will also be the judge for the second place. Thank you matey for the ongoing support on behalf of everyone!
I'm honored to inform you that
and the whole
team decided to support our community with a donation of 64 STEEM! For transparency's sake, I transferred them from mine to the
Thanks to this boost, for the next two months minimum, the contest's pot will consist of 4 (four!) SBI for the 1st classified, 2 SBI for the 2nd place and 2 SBI for the popular vote.. a total of 8
shares every week!
Everyone remember to use the #finishthestory tag for giving further evidence to your worthy contributions.
We have 7 delegations so far! Our proud bananafish knights are:
,
,
,
,
to the voting trail. If you want to sustain this project and make it grow, being part of our core team, here's how to delegate and add your account to the bananafish voting trail.
Before proclaiming the winners, here are some thoughts about
’s first half of the story. First, let me clarify that the contest is not “guess how the author finished the story”: the scope of the contest is that of fostering each participant’s creativity and all we do here is to practice, train our imagination and push forward our writing skills. You all know the criteria for the awards, which are originality and content, over all. Keeping this in mind, the Those here represented what we don’t know, what we fear due to our ignorance. Therefore, one of the ideas that have been valued the most was that of diverging from the classical battle scene.Alright, let's cut the chatter, brave storytellers, the winners of the 5 shares are:
: first classified. He receives the 3 SBI thanks to his capability of embedding a sci-fi plot with a deep social message. Not only, his ending is flowing and follows every good narrative rule to immerse us in the scene with an indirect exposition through a flashback and effective dialogues.
: second classified for his capability of finely portraying a coward anti-hero, escaping the clichè of the "paladin against the evil horde".
: you both have won the popular vote! Seesladen with a dreamy and surreal story and Raj808 thanks to a Poesque story of contact and assimilation with an interesting added character. 1 SBI for both of you!
Thank you all for making this edition an epic one with your awesome contributions 
And now.. let's dive into today's story!
About the author:
Astral Echoes
Rain bounces off the frying pan streets, dowsing the city’s mid-morning swelter. Bangkok on a Monday screams its frenetic cadence into my sleep-stained head as I leave my apartment for the breakfast of kings. A hastily wolfed helping of Khao Neow Moo Ping and I’m on my way. This meeting is important for my continued livelihood. A prominent business man is convinced he’s beset by demons. 'Fung shui gone wrong', the words of his PA echo in my memory as I hail a tuk tuk and jump in.
“Sa wat dee”. I greet the driver as I scramble into the cramped cabin.
It is advisable to enter your tuk tuk promptly as the never ending stream of scooters can sweep you out and away at a moment’s notice. I’ve seen a tuk tuk's door taken off by one of these suicidal bikers before now.
“Sathon Nuea road please.” Pulling off into traffic, I find myself staring into the frantic smog choked kaleidoscope that is Bangkok. Five lanes of traffic jostle for position as scooters whiz between them, reckless of traffic lights, wobbling with giggling teenage passengers stacked three apiece. The salt-singed smell of frying shrimp and coconut oil mingles with diesel fumes as I sit back into the sticky red foe leather and consider what I know about this particular clients Astral footprint!
A room bathed in a dull indigo with a bed by the wall pulsing with ethereal light. A book sits half open on the bedside cabinet, pages twitching in the gentle flow of my aura. Light envelops this scene, green through to red as my aura shifts with the pulse of the indigo ether. I drift over the open book, a single word jumps out of the page like a lightning bolt ‘FATHER’. It seems to echo in my mind like a scream. I glance to my left and my adversary is still moving through the treacle I’ve set in front of him. I still can’t tell whether he’s human! The impossibly wide smile, desperate and hollow speaks to me of one possessed. A soul lost in the astral, then found by one of Them.
BANG, I spin as the wardrobe door slams open and closed over and over. The noise echoes through me as an icy wind spills from the flapping doors. The indigo glow subsides to a dull shimmer as the room darkens and I turn back to my advisory.
He is there right before me. Mouth impossibly wide the teeth icicles and his breath covers me in the stagnant smell of the swamp as my bones numb and my knees give way. I choke as my breath sticks in my throat and the scene fades to night.
“What are the symptoms Mr Xioin?" His pallid face twitches as I stare into sunken eyes, unblinking, pupils wide. "How do these daemons manifest?”
“The night is where they reside. Between dream and waking. Sometimes I wake from a dream only to be enveloped by a strange light. After, I walk in the wakening world, around my apartment and... everything is enlivened." He breathes in short gasps as he talks. "It’s as if everything has a soul, the lamp, my leather chair even the books call out there stories, words that wash through me like fire." His head dips and rests in the palm of his hands. "There is no rest”
“Go on...” I lower my voice as I watch his body shivering in the pain of memory.
“Then there are the dreams that seem to be reflections of my life. I'm working at the company, except it’s like I’m looking over my own shoulder as someone else performs my daily routine. I’m convinced I’m awake until I actually wake and it feels as if I’ve never slept at all." He stares into my eyes, pupils contracting back to a normal size for the first time since I’ve been here. "Can you help me?”
My heart strains against my chest as I struggle to close my third eye, a dull ache in the center of my forehead. He smiles like a clown, an open wound across his face, mocking me. White mists swirl around us as a landscape forms in the astral firmament, his mind superimposing a tapestry in the space between dimensions. I look around searching for any clue to his nature. Any clue that will help me to defeat him.
Things that please the Bananafish mighty god!
- use the tag #finishthestory.
- vote, vote, vote your favorite story!
- Try to post your story the earliest possible and not at the last moment.
- Sustain, comment and upvote each other as a true group of friends and fiction lovers.
- Respect the 500 words limit.
- Post in your blog instead than in the comment section.
- help our contest & workshop to grow by giving it some visibility.
For those that want to join the fun, here is how this contest works:
shares to the writers with the best ending.Nothing is mandatory here, but voting and resteeming is highly appreciated!
ATTENTION! RESULTS CHANGES TIMING!
on Wednesday 1st August, 1:00 PM, GMT -7 (Pacific Daylight Time).
_
Submission deadline: Tuesday 31st July, 12:00 PM, GMT-7 (Pacific Daylight Time).
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So, this time you have one more day for posting your entry!
If you like this contest.. SUSTAIN THE INITIATIVE and SPREAD THE GOSPEL! I'm grateful for your resteeming and word of mouth. The purpose of this initiative is to enhance creativity while distributing wealth and create a fiction workshop of friends. Everything helps to make us grow together!
