The Instigator
Con (against)
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The Contender
Pro (for)
8 Points

Famer's Story-writing debate tournament Round#1 Famer VS Kinesis

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Voting Style: Open Point System: 7 Point
Started: 1/25/2013 Category: Entertainment
Updated: 3 years ago Status: Post Voting Period
Viewed: 2,453 times Debate No: 29533
Debate Rounds (5)
Comments (40)
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Welcome to the second story-writing debate tournament.

The rules and voting guidelines will be provided here:

S&G will be awarded as usual

Conduct will only be awarded to the side that forfeits least (cursing within the story is allowed as this is a story)

Arguments will be awarded for the side providing the more interesting continuation of the story.

Sources will be awarded to the side with better writing techniques and displays a better ability with writing a story.

Both sides will produce a story starting with the Instigator. One story will be created, and must be continued on from both parties within the debate. (recommended that the Instigator gives a title for their story before starting)

For more information both about the tournament and the member's involved, please visit:;

Title: The Camera

Jonathon was a regular boy that lived in the city, although he was living with a rather poor family. Being 19 years old, he was in 2nd year university and was about to attend a wedding of his best friend’s brother. Having never attended a wedding before, he wanted to record the entire event as well as sending copies of it to his friend as a favour.

This being the case, after a short discussion with his friend, the two of them agreed to spend half the expense each for a camera to save Jonathon some money. Going through plenty of technology shops in the shopping centres, it was clear that they could not afford (especially Jonathon) to spend so much money on a camera.
On the verge of giving up, he was able to stumble across a garage sale near his residence that was releasing a camera for a very good price. The camera itself appeared to have been in perfect condition and at a price of $80 only. He talked with the seller of the camera, about its history, condition etc.

“This camera belonged to two university students. However, the two of them were taking classes in photography as it was destined to be their future careers. Unfortunately, after purchasing this camera, their house was robbed and both of them were murdered in cold blood. Luckily the murderer was found shortly after the crime. These are the only two photos I have managed to collect from the pair”.

The two photos showed a picture of two young boys. One with a beautiful blond hair and shining blue eyes whilst the other was of shorter stature, with short black hair and also a handsome face. Jonathon was curious as to why these two would have been murdered in the first place. The pair of them looked so innocent.

“Can I have a go with the camera?” Jonathon asked the dealer, and after a response of yes, he took a quick snap at the window of the house behind the man. The pictures came out great, similar to a professional’s camera’s photo. There was no way Jonathon was going to let this opportunity slip away.

“$80 and that’s a deal” said Jonathon. He gave the man the money and walked off with the camera. However, whilst walking away and towards home, he heard the window crack with a violent sound. It was a high-pitched sound which sent shivers down his spine. Feeling uneasy, Jonathon sprinted his way back towards home with the camera.

The film for the camera was really expensive for Jonathon, so he refrained from taking so many photos with the camera. And, the wedding was approaching in just one week. Coming back home, he showed his entire family the new camera that he recently came in possession of.

The family decided to take three photos after Jonathon returned home. He took a photo of his aging grandma, a photo of their pet dog and a photo of their plum tree at the front of their house. The results of the photo was once again, was surprisingly clear and satisfied Jonathon really much. He was able to sleep that night, with absolutely no regrets and became more and more excited for the wedding and the beautiful pictures that he will take.

However, during the night, he heard a horrible scream from his Grandmother’s room. Everyone rushed to her room to see what was going on. She was shaking violently in her bed and a disgusting discharge from her mouth. She was quickly rushed to the nearest hospital, however, she died long before her body arrived to the emergency rooms for treatment.

Upon arriving home, the family was in a complete state of shock. The family decided to go out of the house as a way to try and forget all of their horrible feelings. Jonathon declined the offer and was left to stay at home by himself.
He lied on the bed, thinking to himself, how on earth could Grandma have died this morning? Her health was perfectly fine in fact, yet she died so suddenly, without any reason. Getting off the bed, he looked outside the window, searching for answers and fresh air.

He stared at the open sky for a few minutes, and this time, he saw another fright of his life. His dog randomly walked across the street, only to be hit by a truck. He sprinted downstairs and out of his house to find the truck driver instantly shouting out apologies and begging for forgiveness for his carelessness.

It was not usual for his dog to even be on the streets, thought Jonathon. He walked back into the house and was seriously concerned as to what was going on. This day, both his grandma and dog died. Both of them were really important parts of Jonathon’s life, yet both of them passed away without a clear reason. Grandma, who died with perfectly good health, and his dog which suddenly lost her mind and strolled onto the street before losing her life to a truck.

Was it simply a coincidence, or was there something deeper to it? Was there some kind of evil spirit that arrived to the town? Was there some kind of new virus that has unpredictable and disastrous effects to the mind and body? Nothing made sense to Jonathon, until he remembered about the camera he brought.

He thought of all the pictures that were taken from that camera, and realised something extremely strange. The two boys in that one photograph were murdered, the window he took a picture of cracked, Grandma died, his dog died and then he remembered the picture of their family’s plum tree.

“This cannot be true…” he said, whilst rushing down to find the tree from the front of their house. He stared at the tree in front of him. Grey leaves, rotten plums, most branches were dead and fell to the ground.

He realised what was going on. The camera itself is able to kill anything that it takes a picture of. Anything that has been photographed by the camera will be killed. If that thing is non-living, it will be destroyed (like the window that cracked).
He was worried, but had to make sure that nothing more can be risked getting killed or destroyed. He ran towards his room to try and find his camera, to try and destroy it before any more harm can be made. He searched though his entire room, and was shocked when he couldn’t find it. As a last resort, he called his sister.

“Hey Sis! Just wondering, do you remember where my camera was?” Rushing through those words.

“Hey Jonathon. Sorry about your camera. We decided to bring it along with us for this little trip and we forgot to ask you. You seemed to have taken Grandma’s death so much worse than we did, we decided it was best not to talk to you.” She responded.

He was glad that he was able to know where his camera was. He quickly explained to his sister that not a single picture can be taken with that camera. He knew better than to explain how it could kill or break anything it captures.

“Haha, are you that worried about your money?” said Jonathon’s sister. “Don’t worry…”

“Ah ha! That was a nice one!” Jonathon heard dad say.

“What did dad take a picture of?” Jonathon shouted to his sister, Caitlin.

“Don’t worry son! I took a picture of New York. It looks great. I’ll show you once we come back home”.

And then, the phone call was cut, and a huge black cloud began rushing over.

“Fvck you dad…” Jonathon muttered to himself. “Now we’re all going to die. Fvcking hell…”



Devastation reigned across New York. According to later news reports, and as was observable from overhead helicopter shots, the destruction was confined to a rough cone shape that began in Central Park. The damage spread outwards as if someone had fired some giant metaphysical bad luck shotgun across the city. Of course, if one were to compare this to a certain photograph taken a few seconds before it all began, one could match up the affected areas and the scenic view of New York from the picture.

Jonathon stared out the window. The sky, clear a moment ago, had filled up like a bruise with dark clouds. Ominous rumbling sounded from above. Something was coming, he knew. Something that would claim thousands - hundreds of thousands - of lives. He had brought this devastation. He needed to stop it. He called his sister back.

The tone sounded. Once, twice, three times.

"Come on sis, come on." he murmured desperately under his breath "Please..."

"Jonny!" He heard his sister yelling as the call connected, terror in her voice. "Something terrible is happening. The trees are all-"

"Sis, I need you to do something. Don't question it, I'm serious. You trust me right?"

"I-of course I trust you." his sister said frantically "but-"

"I need you to break that camera you brought with you. Smash it on a rock, whatever. Just destroy it."

"What? The camera? But..."

"BREAK THE FVCKING THING CAITLIN! I said no questions!" Jonathon yelled, with as much anger as he could muster. He didn't know how much time they had. People were probably already dead.

"Alright, alright." Caitlin said, sounding shocked. The phone didn't cut off, but the sounds from the other side were more muffled. He guessed she put the phone into her pocket.

"Okay, okay, think Jonny think." He massaged his forehead with his knuckles. "What do I know so far?"

The camera killed living things, and destroyed non-living things. He knew that much. But it wasn't that simple. The picture of his grandma had included her bed, part of the wall, background stuff, as well as her. But only she had been affected. So, perhaps only the subject of the photo fell under its curse. The thing, or things, that were its main focus. But that didn't help. After all, his dad had taken a photo with New York as the subject. In the worse case, the entire city might be cursed.

"Jonny?" He heard his sister again.

"Have you broken it?"

"I took it off dad, but it won't break! It's not even scratched, no matter how hard I hit it. I swear it's made of steel. Jonny, weird things are happening here in the park. The trees have all gone brown. And people...I think people are dying. An old woman just got attacked by her own dog. And someone else just fell over, like they had a heart attack. Dad's trying to give him CPR."

"Caitlin, I know this sounds crazy, but the camera...the camera is cursed. Remember the photos we took? Grandma died right after. So did Rover, and our plum tree. Everything you take a photo of-"

"Oh my God." Caitlin sounded awed.

"What is it?"

"The buildings...the skyscrapers...they're being hit by lightning. Why are the clouds only there?"

"Caitlin, it's the camera. You have to find a way to break the camera."

There was silence from the other end. In the background, he could hear people shouting.

"Anything you take a photo of, right?" She said after the pause.

"I-well, kinda, I think so, basically."

"I've got a mirror in my bag. It's for makeup and stuff."

"What does that have to do with-" He stopped. "Oh."

Will that work? He thought. It might just break the mirror, but if the thing that breaks is the subject of the photograph...

"Okay, do it. Take a picture of the camera with itself. Listen, I'll come over there okay? See you in a bit."

Jonathon looked up suddenly, hearing something. No, a noise had stopped. The constant rumbling from the sky had died down. Wait, why had it stopped? Caitlin couldn't have destroyed the camera yet. He walked to the window and looked out, hoping to see a clearing sky. No such luck. Or was it? He could see a light in the clouds. It looked like-

The lighting blasted apart the street below him. He saw the house opposite explode into flames. A woman, one of his neighbours, ran outside in terror. Lightning never strikes twice. The second bolt killed her instantly, as though punishing her for daring to attempt escape. He reeled back from the window. Nowhere was safe - the picture must have included this area of New York too. He knew his family was in Central park. He had to get there, to make sure the camera was destroyed. He shoved the phone into his pocket and ran downstairs.

Getting a taxi would be pointless, he knew. The inner city was full of traffic at the best of times, and the chaos would cause traffic jams all over. He burst out of the front door and ran at full speed down the streets he knew like the back of his hand, heading for central park. The grim reaper followed him.

He avoided death desperately, bad luck trying to end him at every turn. He jumped desperately out of the way of an overturned FedEx truck at one traffic light, the doomed driver sliding into a shop entrance before exploding spectacularly. A mad looking man with a scraggly beard attempted to hold him up with a knife, before tripping and slitting his own throat. Lightning struck everywhere, destroying houses and burning shops, but never quite hitting him. Others weren't so lucky. As he reached the park, the worst the curse had managed were cuts and scratches.

Caitlin was staring at the camera, fascinated. While the chaos raged around the park she only had eyes for the concentrated weirdness going on in front of her. Upon taking the picture of the camera in the mirror, the thing had let out a screech like an enraged cat and cracked across the lense. She had quickly dropped it and back away a few paces, remembering the lightning. If that thing was struck with her holding it...

Her foresight saved her life. What destroyed the camera was not lightning, but a stray bullet. For where, she did not know, but guns were hardly rare in New York so it was not surprising that the bad luck had taken advantage of them. The camera exploded from the apparently high caliber shot, pieces scattering everywhere.

In that moment, the clouds melted away like a bad dream. The man Caitlin's father had been attempting to recussitate before gasped, his heart restarting itself. The trees in the park regained a little of their colour. Many were dead for good, but the curse appeared to be lifted. She heard her brother's voice calling out for her and turned around.

"Caitlin! Caitlin!" he gasped, catching up to her. "Is it over?"

"Yeah" She murmered, a sense of release overcoming her "I think so."

"NO." The voice that rang out was terrible. Like a killer toying with their prey, offering them the chance to save themselves, knowing nothing could be more enjoyable than watching its hope die.


Jonathon and Caitlin looked around, searching for the voice. It seemed to be coming from the shattered remains of the camera.


Thick black vapour began pouring out of the broken camera parts. They seemed to melt and twist as the black smog poured through the air - straight towards Jonathon.

He took a step back, his mouth gaping in surprise. Then the smog poured into him, filling his nostrils and mouth. It worked into his skin, turning it black, changing his form. But the worst thing wasn't the physical invasion. He felt it sliding into his mind, overridding his consciousness and taking over his thought processes. The thing was operating him like a robot. He felt the thing open his mouth.


Debate Round No. 1


Jonathon felt fire rushing out of his mouth. A flame so hot that houses instantly melted towards the ground. The flames released from his mouth slowly began decimating the entire town in front of his eyes, no, it was rapidly causing destruction that was beyond any human control.

Jonathon completely lost control over his actions and was unable to do anything except allow this spirit or demon to take control. He was enslaved to something with a much greater power, something that he didn’t recognise. Whether or not he could resist this force, he wasn’t sure. Everything about it was unknown to him. Although he wasn’t able to have control over his own actions, at least he was able to think.

“The thing, or whatever it is only laid there hidden within a camera for most of its time spent within this mortal world. But now… but now it has taken control over my own body. What on earth will happen now? Someone please kill me right now! It’s for the greater good of humanity.”

A devilish laughter rang in Jonathon’s head. It seems like the spirits can even hear his thoughts!

“Yes I can you stupid boy” Confirmed the voice of the spirit. “You are an interesting little boy you know. It’s such luck that I chose to possess your body over others. The results of this will be truly entertaining for me.”

“You have proved to me that you can kill living things with a snap from that camera, and destroy any none-living thing you devil. But how, how exactly, do you plan to destroy the whole of New York? How will this even be possible?” Jonathon thought, directing it to the spirits controlling him.

“Never you mind. I’m bored of this. Allow me to show you something more interesting” it responded.

Without any response from Jonathon his surroundings suddenly dissolved away until his eyes hit the light of an entirely different scene. Now, in front of his eyes, he is witnessing something totally different, something totally unfamiliar to being human. Devilish orbs rotated on a spinning axis in front of him.

These objects all seem to have a devilish effect on Jonathon whenever he looks at them. He felt like he lost all sense of self as he looked at those objects… like he was hypnotised or something. He wasn’t sure what it truly meant, but new these powers were not from the mortal world of earth, something that can never ever be recreated on the delicate lands of earth.

From here onwards, Jonathon began to regain full consciousness and ability of his own body and whereabouts. He was not able to understand anything that was going on. His comprehension of this entire matter was clouded with contradicting ideas.

“I’ve got control of my own body, but I can’t escape… The whole of New York was being destroyed by own body, but against my own will-power… This room contains objects that are going to be used to destroy New York, but weren’t those fires charging from his mouth more than enough? And the most confusing thing of all, if this spirit used a camera to kill without mercy, why is he still alive?”

Jonathon wasn’t able to see the spirit. He assumed the devilish spirit was somewhere in the air, making it immortal to be eliminated at his own will. The devil spoke up to Jonathon, and a shivering feeling went down Jonathon’s spine.

“Let me show you something. I think you would find it rather special. Rather intriguing to be honest with you.”

Jonathon followed the mysterious spirit’s voice and its god-awful humming. After a huge amount of confusion for Jonathon himself, he arrived at the room the spirit was referring to.

“In there you will find something from your memories. Go on, have a look”

He sidled into the room that the spirit was referring to. The spirit was right, it did show of one thing that was part of his memory, and countless duplicates all over the entire room. It showed the camera that he purchased, originally for the wedding that he would be attending to.

Hundreds of these cameras, no, thousands, no, tens of thousands of these cameras stood there, facing Jonathon. From here, memories began clouding his brain against his own will. He remembered grandmother dieing, rover being crushed by the careless truck driver, the man his father was attempting to resuscitate with CPR and finally, the whole of New York in flames.

"Once a foolish human like you captures a picture of something like a human or specific object, we simply destroy it. You think we would want to trully destory our own cameras? Do you really think we would want to do that? FOOL!" screeched the spirit.

Being unable to face all of this, Jonathon collapsed, in that room as the only way to escape all his fault, and his desire to live.

Meanwhile, whilst Jonathon fell unconscious after envisioning those cameras right in front of his very eyes, the spirit gain it’s visibility and arrived to meet another spirit.

ß [Spirit from the camera is on the left and spirit being met is on the right]

“Are you familiar with what ultimate fear is?” Said the spirit with an ever so calm voice.

“What are you getting at, spirit master?” By another spirit with a higher-pitched voice.

“What do you think makes your subject experience the greatest fear of their life? I have delved into this matter plenty of times and thought simply dieing would be enough, yet now I beheld a fear even greater still. Did you see how that little humanoid reacted simply after that stupid grandma of his got incinerated by our simple pathogen that completely disappears after its kill?

Let me show you the greatest fear a human can possibly experience. Let me show you what it is truly like to force that child to kill his own family members. One by one” responded the spirit.

“What would that be like for that little human?”

“I’m not sure”

Then the pair of spirits began laughing hysterically. It was a moment of true joy for the two of them, devising methods of implementing ultimate fear to their victims. That was the only thing they were able to do, and as one would expect, both of them thoroughly enjoyed it.

“You are truly a maven at this. Everything like this comes so easily to you.”

Once again, the laughter started up again, until at one point, the second spirit asked:

“Don’t you think something like this could help him discover the problems with body control? How anger can disrupt your designated commands? If he discovers this and musters up enough steam, nothing will work…”



A cloudless blue sky. That was what Jonathon saw when he opened his eyes. His pupils contracted from the brightness - he had been lost in the dark for a long time. A raw sickness welled up in his stomach. It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a-

He looked around.

"Sh!t. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit." He said.

Having made his feelings clear to the world, he dusted off his jeans and stood up. Something heavy around his neck pulled down. It was a camera strap.

"Of course. Of fvcking course." His bargain $80 camera lay against his chest.

He pulled off the lens cap and switched the thing on. Full battery. He zoomed the lens out, holding the thing backwards, making sure his entire body was in the picture. And pressed the button. Click.


No lightning. No such luck.

He looked at the little screen on the back which displayed the photo. His heart jumped with surprise. That was him. That was him, with a grin like it was Christmas day and pupiless eyes as black as night. Sudden hot white rage at this evil thing welled up inside him.

"What the hell is this? You think I'm happy, you fvcking thing? You lying little sh!t!"

He hurled the camera as far as he could, hearing it clatter and smash against one of the scorched rocks. Suddenly, a sharp headache pierced his brain. He felt as if something inside his consciousness was shifting about uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah." He murmured. "I did this, didn't I..."

Around him, New York had turned into hell.


Caitlin had watched in horror as the black spirit poured into her brother, unable to do anything but watch as he transformed into an unrecognisable demon. His skin cracked like hardened mud, turned black as though it were scorched with blazing heat, and his eyes. His eyes were the scariest. Shining black orbs with no pupils. He had spoken to her with a voice as grim as a killer yet as happy as a child. It echoed into her brain, leaving her unable to think while he spoke.


He took a breath. A breath that drew in air from miles around, causing trees to sway and people across the park to fall down and lose their coats to the gale. His skin began to glow red through the cracks, and his shining black eyes reflected red for a moment. He blew, a dragon in human form, an inferno rushing across the park from his lips, consuming people who didn't even had time to scream before they were annihilated. The fire reached the buildings, the windows all shattering at once under the intense heat before collapsing as their foundations melted and cracked.

He closed his mouth, grinning happily at the destruction before him, and looked around at Caitlin. Suddenly, his voice was back to normal.

"How does that look, sis? Pretty cool huh?"

She shook her head, backing away from the monstrous creature.

"Ha, I'm just kidding. I sent your bro somewhere else. I'll tell you something good. Some of my, uh...buddies, are worried that intense anger will break my control over this guy. They're totally right! Any intense emotion, actually. That stuff washes us out like bleach. But humans are funny. I could ruin this whole city and I bet he wouldn't even be that upset. But what about you, Caitlin? You reckon your bro loves you? You reckon he'll get mad if I pull off that pretty little head of yours? Just think about it. I just kill you, and everybody lives! I'll go right back to my own dimension if this guy kicks me out! It'd be a real pain to get back. So basically YOU SHOULD JUST DIE"

She turned and ran.

Down the grass, the opposite direction from the line of scorched earth and the chaos in the direction the camera had taken the picture, away from the terrible creature wearing her brother's face.

He grinned and raised a hand. Above Caitlin, black clouds formed and thunder sounded. The lightning was perfectly directed. It struck just where Caitlin had been before she was pushed to the side. She tumbled across the grass, feeling a flash of heat and a tingling sensation in the direction of the lightning. She looked up. The corpse was burned beyond recognition, but she knew who it was. Bits of his clothes were still intact, and he was the only man who would save her anyway.

"Daddy..." Her voice came out, unbelieving. "Daddy..." She reached towards him with one hand.

"Run you idiot. You want his sacrifice to be pointless? Fine, I'll take over."

She felt something invade her. She imagined this is was her brother felt. But...this thing didn't feel hostile. It picked her up, made her legs move. She ran. Above her, the lightning prepared to strike again.

"I can give you one chance. He is far more powerful than I am. When the lightning strikes, you must pretend to die. Do not move until I tell you."

She heard the sky rumble. And then everything turned white. The lightning ran across her body, not touching her but redirecting itself into the ground. She threw herself down and lay still, scarcely breathing.

"Good. Our master will retreat into the boy's mind now. He will awaken, not knowing his mind is being manipulated. A puppet believing himself to be free. There! He falls unconscious. Now run!"


Caitlin finally stopped running to catch her breath, miles from the park, sweat dripping down her face, and collapsed onto a bench. She just lay there for a few minutes before gathering her resolve.

"Who are you?" She said aloud.

"No need to talk. I'm in your mind now."

"I don't want you in my mind. That's private!"

"Hmm. Alright, get out that mirror from before."

She pulled it out. It was just a small plastic makeup mirror. She looked into the reflection, and gasped. It wasn't her, but something else. A strange purple monster with red eyes and no body.

"We can communicate though this." It said, in a normal voice. "Listen, I'm not going to lie. I don't care about you at all. I just think you represent the best chance of defeating the master."

"The...the master?"

"Yes, the oldest and most powerful. We are...spirits, you might call us. Creatures from another dimension. We can anchor ourselves to this reality through certain objects. We can alter this world, change its rules. It seems like magic to you because our reality runs under different laws. The most powerful of us can take over the minds of conscious creatures like you."

"So, why to you want to defeat one of your own kind? The thing that took over Jonathon...that's your master right?"

"Yes...we call him that - by the way, sex has no meaning with our kind - but there are many of us who dislike his rule. Put simply, he is a tyrant. He visits dimensions and orders death and destruction. When your brother found that camera, the master ordered us to destroy and kill whatever he took pictures of. That's the kind of thing he gets enjoyment from. But there are those of us who dislike this, who with to preserve and learn rather than destroy and break. And that is why I need you."

"Why me? What can I do against that monster? He destroyed entire buildings just by blowing at them!"

"His host, your...Jonathon. I don't really understand your species, but it seems you have some deep emotional attachment to one another. If you are the one to fight him, even a weak spirit like me may have a chance. If your Jonathon fights against him, that will leave an opening. An opening to strike! If we destroy his host, he will be unable to stay in this world."

"Wait, destroy the want me to kill my own brother?"

"YES. It is the only way."

"But before...that thing said, it wouldn't be able to stay in Jonathon's mind if he got really angry."

"He lied. Anger can break his control temporarily, but he is woven into your Jonathon's mind, far more intensely than when he when he inhabited mere objects. The only sure way to remove him from this world is to destroy Jonathon."

She shook her head.

"I can't do it. I can't-"

But then the horrific images flooded her mind. Buildings collapsing, the old lady being torn apart by her own dogs, and her own father falling to the ground, black and smoking.

"Alright. I'll do it. We need a plan."
Debate Round No. 2


Caitlyn stared down at the pebbles below her own feet. Tears were streaming out of her eyes and she wasn’t able to understand exactly what is going on and wondering what it truly be like to destroy her brother.

“This is so unfair! Why does my innocent brother have to be destroyed just for the better of this entire state? If he dies, how can this state even recover from these ruins? How exactly is this state going to be “destroyed” anyway?”

The spirit within her remained silent, unsure of what to do. He just continued listening to her, listening to her spill all of her sadness. As the spirit contained no emotion, he was unsure how to react. Should he be sad? Should be cry, but then again, can spirits even cry? Should he be trying to sympasize with her?

Tears continued streaming down her face and had a mixture of emotions. She was angry for a moment, and then that anger turned into terror, and then to overwhelming sadness. It was difficult to even understand her own emotions.

“Jonathon… Oh my dear brother Jonathon…” she mumbled to herself. “Do you really have to die just for the good of this entire state? You did nothing wrong in your entire life. Does a sister really have to kill her own brother? Is this what the world has come to?”

At this point, the spirit began losing his patience.

“Do you plan on destroying him or not?” He said to her mind. “Don’t let your ridiculous emotions hinder your actions.”

“I have a plan, dear spirit, and you have to believe me that it will work” She said to herself, directing it to the spirit.

“Speak” he responded.

“10 years ago, my brother and I ran away from our house during the snow. We just came back from preschool. We were such innocent kids at that time. We did nothing wrong, our parents did nothing wrong.”

The spirit was completely bewildered with what she was saying. It made no sense to him, even when he tried to read her mind, the thoughts she was having at this moment are all over the place.

“Our parents were murdered. We walked home, and both called out their names to say we were home and we wanted to show them our colouring-in work of a giraffe and bunny. We also wrote the words ‘love mommy and daddy’ on the bottom of sheets with cute drawings of love hearts. But, our parents were dead, with multiple gunshot wounds all over there body. There was a huge amount of blood all over the ground. As I look back at it now, it appears they were tortured with shots to non-vital organs before their untimely death.”

The spirit continued listening to this most peculiar story, totally forgetting about the plan.

“So then, we ran away from home, because we were scared about our own lives. We ran and we ran. Even though it was snowing heavily, we still ran, just to get away from the place where our parents were murdered. Then, after a while, we were simply too tired to run anymore, and we didn’t even know where we were. We just hugged each other to try and keep warm. One hour passed… two hours passed… three hours passed… and then I fainted. We woke up in a hospital, where we were later adopted by a rich family.

Our host mother and father were very kind, but we still missed our own parents. We lived in a mansion that was so big that sometimes we got lost within our own home during the first few weeks. Together, we formed up a plan that we would both study hard to become lawyers, and make sure justice is out there for everyone.

My brother was also a very bright child you know. He was the smartest child in his class, and usually topped the class in all the tests. Because of this, you know, living in such a good environment and achieving such good marks, it was responded by a lot of jealousy from his peers. There was a boy in particular that was jealous to the point that he began bullying Jonathon. He was sick of Jonathon’s close-to-perfect life. He teased him with horrible names. I remember some of the being ‘Poo-faced Jonathon’, ‘stupid cheating rich boy’, ‘lucky-to-be-alive-orphan’.

That boy wants Jonathon dead. If there is anyone out there who should kill Jonathon, it should be him. His name is Richard. Richard should be the one destined to kill my brother if that is the necessary course of action. Have Richard kill him.”

The spirit remained there, saying nothing, making no response. He didn’t know what to do after hearing such a strange story.

“Do you understand me dammit??!” She shouted.

“Yes, of course I understand. Where can I meet this Richard kid? Responded the spirit

“He lives on York street. It’s down that at that street. Turn right, walk for about 5 minutes and turn right again. His number is 38. Get him to kill my brother. I couldn’t possibly do something so evil to my precious brother. Do you understand me?”

“Why, of course I do” responded the confused spirit. Well what are you going to…”

Caitlyn reached towards her handbag and retrieved her mirror she uses for makeup. She held onto the mirror, smashed it to the ground. The mirror shattered to two half mirrors. She took the larger half of the mirror, and started at her own reflection.

“I’ll meet you later then Jonathon. I do look forward to seeing you again.” She said.

“What? What is this supposed to mean?” The spirit asked her. “What…”

She lowered the mirror, downwards, towards her stomach, and lunged it straight towards her intestines. The sharp ends of the mirror, treated like a knife, pierced straight through her stomach. She had just committed suicide.

Her face remained lacking with emotion as she fell onto the ground, to allow herself to rest her body, on the rocky ground.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Said the spirit. “What the bloody hell… Now I have to use this Richard kid to end this total chaos?”



Sorry it's so short! Better this than forfeit. :)

Richard Porter sat in the ruins of his house, dazed. He was holding a phone in his hands. It had been ripped off the wall and he assumed it was the one that had been used to call him back. The roof appeared to have been ripped off. Everything was black and burned up, and he hadn't the courage to search the rubble for a body. He had met no living person on his way here, although he assumed emercency services were on their way.

He noticed something by his feet, and picked it up. Weird. Everything else was broken but this appeared to be in pristine condition. A camera, a pretty high end one too. He looped the cord around his neck.

"Richard, Huh?"

He blinked. The voice came not from somebody around him, but from inside his own head.

"Who's there?"

"You know, the girl misunderstood you completely. You didn't hate him at might just be useless to me."

"What are you...talking about?"

"I know who did all this. I know the person who murdered your lover here. I know the person who must be stopped, before this happens again. The person you must help me kill."

"Who killed him? You know that?"

"You were repressed. You had to hide your desires, because you couldn't admit them to yourself or your friends. He was so handsome, wasn't he? So successful and smart. You wanted him. So you beat him up instead. Called him names. Turned others on him as well."

"You're talking about...Jonathon?" his voice came out incredulously. "How the fu-"

"He's the one, Richard. The one who needs to die."

"Why the hell would you come to me?"

"His sister...she refused to kill. She said you would want to...that you hated him."

"I fancied him! I don't want him dead! God no!"

"It's too late. You're the only one I've got. He needs to die, or more of this will happen."

Richard stared into space for a moment.

"Look, I don't under-"

"I'm coming into your mind. I'll transmit the information you need into your brain."


"I understand. He should recognise me, right?"

"Yeah, he will. His anger or his confusion at seeing you should throw Master's control off, if only for a moment. You must stike in that instant. If you fail, he'll oblitorate you. He is powerful."

Richard pulled out the Colt M1911. The finest handgun ever made. Each magazine held 7 bullets, but the spirit had warned him that he would be unlikely to fire more than 3 shots before he was taken down. And if the thing was still in control, the bullets would bounce harmlessly off his skin.

"One in the head, two in the chest."

"You won't hesitate?"

"Look. I don't hate Jonathon but if what you're saying is true, I'll kill him without hesitation. Better he dies than everyone else."

Richard heard a rumbling sound in the distance. Before his eyes, buildings were collapsing one by one.

"I guess we know where he is."

He heard other sounds. Police sirens and then gunfire. Lots of it.

"It sounds like a warzone."

"They will die soon. Hurry, before more arrive."

Richard checked the gun over one more time, and headed towards the chaos.
Debate Round No. 3


Jonathon looked through his own eyes at everything in front of him. Buildings being blown apart, men dying, women screaming, children panicking. His body felt like a massive statue with an in-built robotic mechanism that was beyond his control.

He felt uncomfortable. His head started aching to an incredible degree. His heart began beating at an incredible rate, and felt his blood rushing through his body at an inhuman rate. Although his body felt like it was as hard as a statue, his body was aching incredibly from the inside. Excruciating pain met his body and he was unable to deal with it. He wanted to die.


Richard was more conscious, yet felt extremely nervous and unsure of himself.

“You know, the girl misunderstood you completely." This statement echoed in his head.

He felt a sudden rush of cold wind pass him, which shook him to his core. He thought through everything. He loved Caitlyn. He fancied Jonathon. They thought he hated him due to his childhood stupidity. He felt bad, bad about his foolish actions.

He longed for Caitlyn to be his good friend, maybe even his girlfriend. She was gifted as well, being a diligent student, with a lot of positive attributes. She was easily going to succeed in her adult life. Now, due to some alien contact, her life ended short, Jonathon is possessed, the whole of New York is in ruins.

“She’s gone…” He murmured to himself. “Gone… Completely out of this word… Gone… GONE!”

He felt a flame start up inside his body. He was enraged, full of anger at what is going on. He needed to ignore his emotions and do what is best, just like how he was taught in Law school.

“You see the body of a mutilated man and woman and you start vomiting and crying? What’s wrong with you? You have to remove all your emotions, focus on the case, and carefully dissect the problem, bit by bit until you have solved it” said his professor, who is now his senior officer in command within the workforce.

“I’m a detective, and I am not going to give in to my emotions” he said to himself.

He held onto the Colt M1911 that he was given after graduating from law school. He had both hands, firmly gripping onto the gun and began walking closer towards Jonathon. He stood in front of Jonathon, and screamed out loud at him.

“Oi Jonathon! Look at me!” Yelled Richard.

Jonathon recognised that voice, it was a voice of that was attached with a lot of negative emotions. He despised that voice from the bottom of his heart and finally understood it. It was the voice of Richard, his long-term rival in junior school. He looked at him at shock, and Jonathon himself felt a flaming sense of anger rise upon within his aching body. He wanted the spirit behind him to kill Richard before anything else.

However, the spirit was hesitant for a moment. He understood clearly that he was meant to bring the most suffering to Jonathon, to embrace his feelings of guilt, anger and regret, yet this Richard kid in front of him bears a lot of hatred. He was unsure whether or not to use his superior powers to decimate this child in front of Jonathon. He was hesitant, which costed him valuable time.


4 years ago, Richard was studying and training hard to graduate from law school. As he was going to be part of the police force, he was required to have a gun with him at all times. Having a gun was important, and knowing how to use a gun was even more important.

Richard himself was more competent in the physical aspects within Law, such as how to disarm a person who is of a potential threat, and especially in the use of a gun. He practiced every day to the point where his precision was close to perfect. His reflexes and speed with shooting and grabbing his gun were also of an incredible speed.


“Guess shooting people won’t be all that difficult and useless after all of that training, 4 years ago” Richard thought.


Jonathon was enraged with the person he saw in front of him. He wanted to kill Richard, who was standing in front of him. Seeing so much terror already, having one more person die, one like Richard wouldn’t mean anything to him. He charged towards Richard, and opened his mouth wide, expecting the flame to engorge over his entire body.

However, with the spirit having a major control over Jonathon’s body, it was confused. Should Jonathon kill this boy? Why should he? For some reason, this boy brought so much suffering to his current psychological state. Wouldn’t it be better to just let this boy live?

“Yes..” mumbled the spirit to himself. “Of course it would be. He despises that boy, why should he die?”

But then, he remembered something his master told him before. That if he musters up enough steam, it will become difficult to take full control over his physical state.


Richard stared at Jonathon, the monster that stood in front of him. He glared at his face. The face showed an expression that was completely incomprehensible to Richard. His face appeared to be demented, with an expression of anger and utter confusion. He took a step towards Richard, and then stumbled backwards. He then jumped forwards in the most peculiar way, and then took five short steps backwards again. He knew that something unusual was going on, based on the confusing actions from Jonathon.

Richard knew he had to do it. He knew that he had to kill Jonathon, for the better, so he raised his pistol, pointed it at Jonathon, directly at his left shoulder blade, and fired. A split second later, he shifted his pistol to the left, and shot into Jonathon’s right shoulder blade before finishing him off with two shots towards his stomach.

Jonathon let out a scream of pain, fell onto the ground, unable to comprehend whatever happened. The spirit that was bonded to his body was completely destroyed within Jonathon’s body, never to be found again. Jonathon was with his normal body again, his monstrous size contracted significantly, the Jonathon’s everyday body size.

Jonathon knew that he wasn’t able to kill Richard, with his arms completely disabled. He just laid there on the ground, very relaxed, trying his best to ignore the excruciating pain that was flaming across his entire body. He waited for the last bullet to penetrate his head.

“Just finish me off dam…” He coughed out blood. He was losing his consciousness. “Kill me… Kill…”

Richard, rushed towards Jonathon’s fragile body, and lifted his head up to face him face-to-face.

“What the fu-“ Jonathon said, ever so weakly.

“NO JONATHON!” Roared Richard. He felt hot flaming tears begin leaking out of his eyes. “PLEASE DON’T DIE!! JONATHON!! NOOOO!! I’m sorry about all those times I called you names, I’m sorry that I addressed you as an orphan. I’m sorry that I also bullied your sister.

Immaturity made me do stupid things. You thought I hated you, but for all these times, the only expression I had for you was admiration with a tinge of jealousy. I wanted to be your equal, your friend, your study partner. I adored your pretty younger sister, and I’m sorry that she is now dead. DON’T DIE NOW DAMMIT! PLEASE! Lord, oh please, have mercy on me and give Jonathon his life.”

Jonathon just stared at Richard, at the tears leaking out of his tear ducts, blank-faced, confused.

"I AM THE LUCKY-TO-BE-ALIVE BRAT, THE POO-FACED IDIOT. Jonathon, please..." said Richard.

"God Bless your soul, you silly fellow" mumbled Jonathon, with a effortful smile on his face. "Live a good life, and don't even think of hurting other's feelings again..."

Jonathon's eye-lids closed themselves, and he simply laid there on the ground, on the ground dead.

Richard's eyes were flooded with tears, engrossed with sadness. He bent down, and embraced Jonathon's feeble body, like a brother and whispered to his ear:

"I respected you, from the bottom of my heart..."



The Master was in trouble. As he bounded himself to humanity, so he had become addicted to it - it was like a drug to him. The richness of human experience overwhelmed him. The texture of touch. The brightness of colour. The pressure of sound. He had bound himself ever tighter to Jonathon, not realising how vulnerable humans are. Now, as four bullets ripped through Jonathon's shoulder blades and stomach, he was flooded with sensory input that left him utterly defenseless. The flood of pain. His body screaming: SURVIVE. SURVIVE. FLEE. DANGER. It was so primitive, so unthinking. Humans have this side to them too?

Releasing control to Jonathon for his last moments, he attempted to disconnect, but it was futile. He had bound himself too deeply. He was too addicted, too interconnected.

"I will not die here. I will not die!"

Ordinarily, his species did not have a strong survival instinct. Ordinarily this would be the end. But The Master was part human now, and humans desire to live.

The Master's power was destruction. He could break and crush and burn. But breaking is easier than fixing. There are a billion ways for a glass to be broken, but few ways for a glass to be whole. He knitted the linings of Jonathon's stomach together, burned away the acid that spilled into other parts of his body. He fused with intense flames the broken bones and crudely sewed the muscle structure back.

None of it worked.

"Why? Why won't you live!?"

It was the brain, he realised. The brain was far more difficult to understand than the rest. It had been cut off from oxygen for too long. It no longer served to send signals to the rest of the body. It was the brain that he had been living inside, but he did not know enough to repair his house. He began to panic. His consciousness was fading.

"NO! No! no..."

With one last cry of desperation, The Master faded from existence.


Richard stood up, dazed, from Jonathon's corpse. As a police officer he had seen his share of corpses. He hadn't killed anyone though. He had said his goodbyes, and he didn't regret killing him. But he felt an overwhelming sadness at the death of someone who could have been a good friend. Who had been, in the end.

"There is no time for mourning. I will take you to my people. We must establish the new order, now that master is dead."

Richard's vision blurred, and the chaotic scene around him vanished. In its place was a great hall. Thousands of the spirits were whizzing around, busy at work at some unknown task. Along one of the great walls were countless rows of cameras.

"We have been possessing these for many years, sending them out into the world. Some bring misfortune, some bring happiness, a few bring great wealth or terrible destruction. We have been infiltrating this world for many thousands of years, infiltrating your society, shaping your history."

Richard took the camera from around his neck, the one he had found in the ruins of his house.

"And this one?"

"I will travel with you around the world, learning what I can. I am The Historian. I long to see your world, to learn about your people. Bring your camera with you. Everything you take pictures of, I will store information about. With my power you will be able to explore places too dangerous for others of your kind."

"I've always wanted to travel the world. It's a deal, spirit. By the way, what should I call you?"

"Just Historian is fine. Names have no meaning to our kind; we can distinguish each other easily without need of them."

"I just killed one of your kind. Won't there be some consequence for that?"

"We do not mourn our dead." Then a note of hesitation creeped into his voice "There was one who followed The Master all the time. A young spirit who delighted in inflicting suffering and pain. It is conceivable that he may try to take revenge. He is not as powerful, and I will be there to protect you."

"Shall we travel, then?"

"Yes. Let's see your world, human."


"I warned him. I told him not to anger the human! And master is dead! Curse that human. Curse that Richard human! How dare he kill my master! I will make him pay. I will have him scream forgiveness to me. I will have him beg for mercy as I strip the flesh from his pathetic human body!"

The lesser spirit - let us call him 'The Avenger' - spent many days planning his revenge upon Richard. He knew he had the protection of another spirit. Knew none of the others exept him cared about The Master's death - that they would elect a new master, one with different aims, without loyalty, without caring or mourning their loss. That was the way of their kind. But Avenger would not rest until Richard was dead. That was his all consuming goal.

"I will slaughter this human. I will tear him apart." was all he could think.

So he followed after Richard, scheming his demise.


Click. Click. Click.

"I wanted to get a few last pictures of this place. This entire section of the city was quarantined by the government after we left."

The wasteland stretched for miles. A nuclear bomb had not destroyed New York, but a million small attacks from within.

"You know, nobody will even know what happened to Caitlin or Jonathon. Everyone will just assume they died from the same thing that killed everyone else."

"Could we move on? There is nothing more for me to learn from this place."

"Huh? You've already been here?"

"Of course. I was one of the spirits master used to destroy the city."

" did some of this?"

"I shifted the emotions of the animals in the city. I made some dogs in the park turn on their master. It was while that old lady was dying that I looked into her mind. She had led such a rich existence. Full of fascinating facts and thoughts and memories. It was then I thought, I don't wish to destroy these creatures. I want to learn from them."

"I you won't kill again?"

"I promise, I wil protect your kind, not destroy you."

"So where do you want to go?"


"Huh? That's very specific."

"It's where our cameras were created. The 'Canon' people created them. Call it curiosity, I would like to see how they were produced."

"Well okay, but I don't know how the speak Japanese."

"That is no problem. We can speak any of your languages easily. I will transmit the information into your mind. Come, let us leave these ruins."


Richard stood on the train, feeling self conscious. This country was so clean, so organised. The train had arrived to the second, and everyone had left and entered the train in perfect calm orderliness. He was packed pretty tightly with a load of other passengers. Most people seemed to wear full suits, and some people were wearing odd masks for some reason.

"People with colds wear them. Because everyone is packed so tightly together."

"Ah, that's nice."

The Japanese man next to him gave him a strange look.

"I'm in your head, remember. Don't speak aloud."

"Ah, sorry."



"Wait, we have a problem."

"What is it?"

"He's here. On this train."

"Who is?"

"The one I was talking about. The disciple of the master. To have followed us all the way here..."

"Ah crap. What does he want?"

"To kill you, obviously."

"Well sh!t."

Debate Round No. 4


Richard glanced around his entire surround within the train.

“Where is he?” He asked Historian.

“Shift your head slightly to the right and look at that blond-haired Japanese man” he responded.

“A Japanese man with blond hair?” He asked Historian. “What a joke.”

“Exactly! That spirit is rather stupid to think up of such a ridiculous disguise. That isn’t a real person. His entire body is spirit-born. There is nothing Japanese or mortally-based about him. Although he physically exists within the mortal world, he is still a spirit. He will use that spirit-made body with the attempt to destroy you. He will kill you with that body physically.”

Richard twisted his head around the entire train compartment. It was currently normal working hours within Japan, and it was expected that most of the adults there were fast asleep. Yet, Richard was bewildered at how they weren’t able to realize the peculiarity of a blond-haired Japanese man on the train.

“The only way for a spirit to die, without being fully bounded to a mortal being for example a human, is to have a another spirit kill it. They must sacrifice themselves for the equal price of what they desire. Similar to the ridiculous human ‘and eye for an eye’ quote. I am sacrificing myself for you.”

Richard’s entire body tensed up. He was unsure what was going to happen next. He tried to keeps his eyes of the creepy figure of the spirit that wants to kill him. The figure remained still. It stood there, as if he were a statue, until suddenly, the entire body began screaming a dying scream, twitching, holding onto its stomach, skin began dissolving like sand.

The Japanese people woke up in an instant

“NANI??” They shouted. “Kore wa nan desu ka???” They shouted, pointing at the dissolving figure and the sand-like remains.

Richard simply eyed the remnants of the spirit’s physical form. It was nothing more than a small pile of sand. All of the spirits that have ever been part of this chaos is now gone, forever gone…


“Wishing you all a good afternoon. This is James Smith here, your new news report for BBC News. Currently reporting on the state that was on fire. New York caught itself on flames for an entire day. No real causes have been discovered. Many casualties were seen. So far, there are 3 million confirmed residential confirmed to be dead, 2.7 million severely injured and 1.2 million missing.

No trails of gasoline or other inflammable liquids were to be found. Police are still investigating on the causes for this possible case of mass-numbered arson. Survivors of this tragic incident have said:

‘ I saw a small boy, breathing out fire from his mouth! Maybe it was a boy, maybe it was a dragon! I don’t know!’ – Travis McCauley

‘I was just having a jog outside, when all of a sudden, within a 40 seconds, the entire sky was covered with smoke and I saw fire all over. It was like a horror story.’ – Peter Graham.


James Smith here. From the looks of it, with different stories flying around everywhere, most survivors are still in a severe state of shock. Further details will be released later when more of this incident has been uncovered.”


Meanwhile, away from the news station and the few television that have survived through the fire that occurred two days ago, was the funeral of Jonathon, Caitlyn, and Jonathon’s host father. Over there stood Richard, Richard’s family, Jonathon’s host mother only.

Richard walked towards Jonathon’s grave, knelt down and bowed towards his body and walked away. He didn’t dare do any more. He then walked towards Jonathon’s father’s grave and did the same. Lastly, he slowly stepped towards Caitlyn’s grave, knelt down, with tears leaking, he said:

You have a lived a good life. Disappoints me that I wasn’t a good part of it. Sorry…”

Melanie, Jonathon’s host mother, walked towards her husband’s grave, placed a remembrance flower on top. She remained silent, with a handkerchief in her hands, pressed against her eyes, after which she placed on top of the flowers before walking towards Jonathon and Caitlyn’s graves.

“To the two dearest, smartest and most adorable children a mother like me could possibly bear, I will present to you the will your parents wrote before their murder. We never intended to address such a matter to you, at such a young age, but here it is.

“To the muscly Jonny and warm-hearted Cait,

Father and I are sorry that we have to move houses with you so often, but we were never allowed to stick in one place for too long. The history of our work is enough to get the two of us killed. We lived a life filled with crime on every page possible. We both worked with the German secret police, dealing with counterfeit money and creating fake records for illegal immigrants to Germany.

We were also heroine dealers, making and selling for 3 years before being caught by the police.

It was, because of these reasons we have to be constantly on the move. Although our records have been cleared, we are still wanted for a 12 months jail sentence after giving birth to Jonathon. We couldn’t bare such a thing, so we continued to hide from the police.

We are expecting to this point to be killed by the police somewhere within New York as their headquarters have also been notified of our history.

We leave, in our will, to Jonathon, the Dictionary of Law book that interested you so much, even at the age of 7.

To Caitlyn, we leave to you, the stethoscope, to fulfil your dream with becoming the famous doctor you wanted to be for so long.

Study hard, and don’t even give up to anything that may stand in your way and serve as a barrier to your success in life.

“Jonathon already wanted to become a lawyer, even before his parent’s death…” said Melanie. “Such determination from a boy like this should make any parent proud.”


I thank Kinesis for the wonderful opportunity to have helped me write up such an entertaining story and hope he has enjoyed this just as much as I have.



I think that ties up all the loose ends, and I don't want to spoil famer's ending with some cliffhanger (Jonathon's body is still possessed by the master, and will rise up to threaten the world again! Dun dun dun! No.). Thanks for the thouroughly enjoyable story, famer! I think I learned a lot about how to write creatively. Thank you!

Please vote!
Debate Round No. 5
40 comments have been posted on this debate. Showing 1 through 10 records.
Posted by TUF 3 years ago
"I think the biggest point with regard to writing style is captured in the classic English teacher's cry 'show, don't tell!'"

I agree with logic on this, definitely.
Posted by Kinesis 3 years ago
"Overall, both of you can take significant steps to improve (hypocritical from myself here!)"

Out of interest, do you have any resources to point to for that?
Posted by Logic_on_rails 3 years ago
I finally got around to reading this. You both are decent writers with ideas, but I do have to judge somehow, so I may be a little harsh. My view:

Firstly, you both did reasonably well in keeping the story moving. There were ideas and plot twists aplenty. That said, I think that the story lacked an effective climax due to the introduction of The Avenger, a fault I must lay at Kinesis' feet. It's not that it's a bad narrative idea in general, but that the late introduction of the idea coupled with the (relatively) short story limits such ideas from truly coming alive. This isn't such a big point though - you both did reasonably well story wise.

On writing styles, Kinesis clearly wins. Firstly, Famer, your dialogue is really poor at some stages; it seems extremely forced at times. Now, Kinesis' dialogue wasn't perfect either, but his had more realistic elements to it. Look, good dialogue is a really (!) hard thing to do, but it's important - it develops empathy for characters, gives us insight into the story etc.

I think the biggest point with regard to writing style is captured in the classic English teacher's cry 'show, don't tell!'.

Both of you 'told' the reader a fair bit of stuff, but Famer... you told the reader a lot (italics here...) . For instance, look at R1. Now, our natural inclination as writers is to tell - I often tell inadvertently myself - but it's best to reduce the telling aspect. The best writing accomplishes a great deal with very little. Dialogue advances story + (!) character development + moral dilemmas and more.

I've probably been more harsh than others have, but I did enjoy the story. It's for that reason that to distinguish between debaters and provide advice that I've said what I have. Overall, both of you can take significant steps to improve (hypocritical from myself here!) , but Famer needs more improvement, which comes partially from time. Probably a 3:1 vote to Kinesis here overall, not using the guidelines...
Posted by morgan2252 3 years ago

True. Writing dialogue is hard. Typically, people have different voices when they talk, which can be hard to capture. (For example, accents, dialects, etc.) A person's voice can imply their age, race, income, and much more. For example, a young child may say the word "daddy" while a teenager or adult says, "dad." A sassy/popular teenage girl may say the word "like" a lot. (Omigod, so I was like, going to the mall, and there was this dress that was totally, like, FABULOUS!- I may be exaggerating this a little bit and making it sound too fake, which makes it, once again, hard to do.) In fact, I've heard that many authors write down a good piece of dialogue when someone says something that would be good for their story.

I REALLY wanted to give you more points, Famer. You did a great job. I feel that I should have made the vote closer. I was starting to regret giving Kinesis the two points for techniques there, because it was a close call for me and it made the vote less even. Both of you guys did an amazing job!
Posted by TUF 3 years ago

Point is, I think Famer did an excellent job and maybe better utilized creativity, not a lot, Kinesis threw in some pretty good plot twists (like the demon taking over Jonathon's body initially. I am not going to lie, I didn't know how Kinesis was going to overcome the initial round, without posting something like an ending round 1 to go along with the story. Also loved the creativity with mirror destroying the first camera, and the sister having to be confronted with killing Johnathon).

Things I liked about Famer's Portion were little things like confronting the moral dilemma with his sister that Kinesis threw in. Of course a sister wouldn't want to murder her own flesh and blood to stop a rampant spirit, but understands the neccesity, so tries to convince them to be killed by another person. I think the suicide was a little exageratted, TBH, but it still worked out for adding the drama. All the death, and tragedy, along with making the spirit seem a little more "human" (IE forgetfullness of his plan, etc) Made Famers portion come alive a little better.

Concerning both the debaters, the use of pictures to add visualization was definitely an interesting concept to implement. Though, as an avid reader, I tend to think that my own visuals get ruined from pictures, and movies a bit. But I give props for the creativity on this one.

I am giving conduct to famer as well, because it's apparent that he put a little bit more time and effort into the story than kinesis. I also gave him sources because of the creativity, plot twists, and constant working action interest of the story being upkept by him. I gave the arguments points to Kinesis, because over all I think kinesis added the most colorful story writing. By that I mean, better written, easier to understand, good use of round length, as well as story construction, and overall a decent writing ability that I felt I could cope with just a tad bit more than Famers on this one. Good luck to both of
Posted by TUF 3 years ago
Alright, Back at it mates!
Posted by TUF 3 years ago
Finished round 1, will keep reading. Got class in 5 minutues, so I'll have to read the rest later.

So far I really like the concept idea from famer, an the continuation from kinesis. I will reserve my opinions of the story, until after I've finished reading. Just wanting to let you know that this is a pretty interesting Idea. Famer seems to be constructing this story to be like a real short story by describing events, and concepts in better detail, while Kinesis tends to be a bit more descriptive, and colorful. Both styles can work, I think. But I am eager to find out how both styles blend in together throughout the story.

Anyways, more later.
Posted by Kinesis 3 years ago
Me too! I'm glad I got you as an 'opponent' for this. It was great fun. :)

Also sorry for throwing you a curveball at the end. You dealt with it well.
Posted by famer 3 years ago
Thanks for the vote Morgan!

I don't really understand up how to write up a good story (apart from using creativity). I never took into consideration that good dialogue could increase the quality of a story. Thanks for providing that RFD.

It was an interesting vote that I didn't really expect :)
Posted by famer 3 years ago
Lol Kinesis @ your last "argument".

I would hate you so much if you continued with the idea that Jonathon's body still being possessed.

I thank you for writing this story up with me. It was great fun! I'm not so sure if I have learnt how to write creatively as you admit to, but the only thing I'm going to say is, I had heaps of fun doing this. :)
2 votes have been placed for this debate. Showing 1 through 2 records.
Vote Placed by TUF 3 years ago
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Total points awarded:33 
Reasons for voting decision: Very interesting story and concept. Overall, the ending was pretty decent (not what I was expecting to say the very least). If I was reading this story on my own time, and happened upon, I don't think I would have put it down straight away. The concept interested me quite a bit actually, and there was some foreshadowing that was fun to predict from famers story. Alright, Generally when I post RFD's on writing debates, I have a hard time posting what I feel was negative about a persons style, so I am going to try to word this differently. The problem I had with famers comparatively to kinesis's side, is that it was a bit rushed. I can completely see Famers style being used in a short story, but it was completely opposite of what Kinesis was going, which was an actual chapterbook style. It gave off an effect that made the process of Famers story seem rushed. A lot was happening, in few words. I am trying to make this RFD stay away from the actual story, and focus on writing styles btw.
Vote Placed by morgan2252 3 years ago
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Reasons for voting decision: That was a great story! I really enjoyed it. Both sides did an excellent job, however, I'm going to have to give arguments to pro because he develops more relationships, which is very difficult to do. However, I'd hate to not give con any points because I really loved her arguments as well. So, I give on point to con. Writing ablility was pretty close also, but I like how well pro does dialouge, which, once again, is very hard to do. I also think he did a grat job accurately capturing the voice of the Master and the suttle voice of the Historian. Overall, it was a great debate and a wonderful story.