Third Campaign Challenge: Waking From Paradise

It's here, the third campaign challenge! Here are the details:

Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:

that it’s morning,
that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
that the MC (main character) is bored
that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
that something surprising happens.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise." (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).

Here's my entry: Waking From Paradise

A yellow, orange haze cast across the vast blue sky, cloudless and perfect. The water rippled, meeting the shore slowly with its turquoise taint.
Goosebumps lined her flesh as the morning chill nipped away. It was going to be another ninety degree day, but at five in the morning, wearing a two piece on the beach was asking for the barely there cold to make its presence known.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Katie?” His eyes twinkled when he asked the question. “The most synbatec sunrise on the face of this Earth.”
She rolled her eyes, completely over it. Then there was the wastopaneer smell behind them that was killing the mood.
Rising from the ground, she shook out her bathing suit, letting the grains of sand grinding against her butt fall while her stomach jiggled.
Tanner held out his hand, his chocolate brown hair shifting with the small breeze. Her own dark hair was being tacise, as usual, completely untamable. Why did his always look so perfect?
Clasping her hand with his, the chill got stronger. He pulled her in closer, wrapping his arms around her bare back. His lips claimed hers and she felt herself sigh against his touch. Clinging to him, she suddenly felt an overpowering sense of panic, reality trying to wake her from the dream. Her eyes shut tight, she fought against whatever part of her was starting to wake. The stench got stronger, overpowering the other details of the morning. Then it finally hit her.
Her eyes flew open and she jumped away. The unidentified smell of dying flesh knocked the wind out of her. Everywhere she turned, there were corpses, a trail of his appetite.
“Damn, I was so close to having you.” The smile returned to his face. That familiar, hungry smile. She screamed.

Word Definitions:
Synbatec- incredible
wastopaneer- strange
tacise-stubborn
I'm entry number 61 if you all are interested in voting, but no pressure! Hope you enjoy :).

1st Campaign Challenge!!!

Okay, so I FINALLY got some writing done. But it wasn't on my manuscript, it was the for the flash fiction that is our first Campaign Challenge. It was put together kind of quickly, but I hope you enjoy it anway. I also did 200 words exactly and ended it with "The door swung shut." That was quite an accomplishment. The title is The Hunted Hunter:

The Door swung open
He stood with his long dark trench coat and scarf hiding his face, as the brim of his black Stetson created slits for his eyes that shined brightly with anticipation, just a shadow against the night. His hand glossed over the sharp edges of the curved knife, the silver glinting beneath the moonlight. Heart pounding, hands itching, he was ready for the hunt.


Mishapen shapes protruded through the envelope of the black night, snarling with their jagged teeth, the saliva dripping as the scent of his pulsing blood caressed their mouths. They had finally come to hunt the hunter

Beneath the glooming layers of his scarf a smile lifted, the trace of emotion invisible beneath his mask of blood and death. His eyes cast across the threshold. “Let’s get this over with, shall we boys?” The Hunter’s voice was clear and unruffled, the brusque threat of his words music to their ears.

The growls grew louder, deafening the haunted forest.

The Hunter’s smile deepened. His hand slid out the weapon, the only companion left for him, and the angry howls tore into the sky.
“I promise I’ll make it hurt,” He said. The door swung shut.