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Project 30, Chapter 0 |
| Written by Project 30 | |
| Wednesday, 06 August 2008 | |
Project 30 is a culmination of 20 different storywriters here on Storiesville. They were given the following prologue and asked to write on it. There are 20 different chapters with a prologue and an epilogue. Yes it is a long read, but it is well worth it to see the different thoughts that come out of our heads. Make sure you read the chapters in order...otherwise you might miss one. We look forward to doing this again and we hope that you join us next time.
Prologue One by one they arrived at the big mansion in Washington DC. From Texas to Australia, they trickled in to the big mansion. They apprehensively looked around at each other. This was the first time any of them had met face to face. All of their interaction had been done online as writers on a website known as StoriesVille. Recently there had been some changes and many rumors floating around their humble website. A lot of questions; all of them unanswered. The writers had each received an e-vite, inviting them to the party. The email had been very short and simple:
Greetings! If you are reading this then that means you have been carefully chosen from the entire StoriesVille community to a party celebrating our recent fame and unexpected popularity! So pack your bags and head out to Washington, D.C. Get your butts to 1234 Shakespeare Avenue. It's the giant mansion; you can't miss it! Each guest will receive a unique gift made especially for them. So, hurry up. This is going to be great! Yours Truly, The Admin
Nobody knew much about the Admin, except that he was the Admin; the Administrator, the Creator. Nobody was even sure what gender the Admin was. Most just assumed it was a guy, but there wasn't any way to really be sure. At least not until they showed up at the party. It was indeed a mansion. The writers were seated in a giant ballroom, where a long dinner table sat in the middle. There were thirty-one seats in all; thirty writers, one host. As each guest showed up, the Admin (who turned out to be a guy by the way) handed them a carefully wrapped present and told them to have a seat. They were told to wait to open their gift. After about two hours, twenty-one seats were filled, including the Admin's. "Okay," he announced, "That will be all that will be showing up tonight. The rest of our talented guests are busy with some ... requests that I have made. Perhaps we'll see them later tonight, but the chances are highly unlikely." And with that he smirked. The writers gave each other puzzling looks, but then just shrugged their shoulders and gave their attention back to the Admin. "Now," he continued, "I would like for all of you to open your gifts. The writers eagerly opened their gifts, and looked puzzled at each other. They then looked back at the admin for clarification. "You are probably wondering about your gifts and what they're for, right? But rest assured that you will end using them before the end--" "The end of what?" a writer named Phil Neale inquired. The Admin smiled, "The end of Project 30, of course." "And what exactly is Project 30?" wondered another writer by the name of Amie Kerlin, more commonly known on StoriesVille as Lemon. "Well, it's a project--" the Admin started to answer. "No, ****," Jason Haugh muttered sarcastically. A writer from Australia, Dirkin, glanced at Jason's bandaged up thumb and asked him what happened. "Cats," Jason replied. "Oh." Dirkin exclaimed. "Anyway," said the Administrator, "before I was rudely interrupted, I was saying that this is a project. A secret project that only you guys will know about--" "When?" a teenager named Max Booth III snapped. "Let me finish!" the Admin yelled, feeling quite frustrated. "I will have great pleasure informing you all about Project 30 over dinner, but first let the butler serve us. I think this will be a feast that you all will enjoy deeply." "What are we having?" another writer Prithwish asked. "Tons of stuff, but for the appetizer we will be dining in on some delicious pâté." "Isn't that goose liver?" Michelle Huff said, forming a disgusted look on her face. The butler quickly served the pâté. Once in eyesight of it, almost all the writers made the same disgusted expression that Michelle had made. "Now," the Admin announced, "For a toast." He stood up and raised his wine glass. "Today is a day to be remembered forever, for it is the first meeting of the Alliance of Writers. Soon, we will change this world. Soon, this will be a better place to live and write in. Now, drink up my fellow writers!" The Admin downed his glass of wine and looked around. His eyes seemed weary and he muttered, "What the hell ... ?" He collapsed to the floor with a loud thud. With this unexpected occurrence, the writers immediately spat out their own glasses of wine, and went running over to the Admin's side. "What the hell just happened?" Jesse said aloud. "Well, he fainted ... right?" Kasi hoped. A poet known as Sorrow is my Mask checked the Admin's pulse. "Oh, **** ... he's dead." ********* Detective Davidson was beyond angry when his phone woke him up in the middle of the night. Even more mad when he was told he would have to drive out to that big ole mansion on Shakespeare Avenue. He was just literally pissed when he found out he would be questioning twenty witnesses. Someone had poisoned that man, and Davidson was going to find out whom. Copyright 2008 Project 30 |
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| Last Updated ( Friday, 08 August 2008 ) |
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