Winners selected by Thomas Clemens

1st Place: Jackson Delany

Grade 9

The grass on the hill lay silent on that still night. There was no wind in the woods, and no rustling of any nighttime creatures either. It was as if something had frozen the woods, refusing to allow any movement. The gardeners watching from in the greenhouse were apprehensive; they did not believe but rather knew something in the forest was off. 

Earlier that same day, all of the greenhouse staff checked in and tended to their garden. The day was bright and cloudless, but surprisingly cold for April day. The garden grew a wide variety of plants, but most were “from a different region” according to the higher executives at Gravgen. The forest seemed awake, with the staff even being able to spot a few deer through the treeline. 

The staff did their usual activities, watering the plants, logging information, and running an experiment. Their research had been going well, and they were almost through their contract. Two things seemed awfully strange to the gardeners. They worked miles into the mountains behind fully guarded gates, and they worked with plants none of them recognized. Plants that people who have been botanists for years, some decades, could not recognize. 

After a long day of hard work, the greenhouse was closing and all of its employees were preparing for a departure home, until the red IMMINENT DANGER lights flashed on, causing an immediate groan and subsequent realization and panic from everyone in the building. Everyone immediately entered the emergency weather shelter, and the supervisor, Harry Glodds, immediately began to take attendance. 

Three people were unaccounted for. Some janitors had said, “Those three all already left. They left right before the alarm went off.” A slight uneasiness rose in Harry. He knew it would be on him if his employees were harmed, so he knew he would be the person to go find them. He called out to the gathered group of his staff. “Is anyone willing to go and help me find Cassidy Surtan, Ivan Benson, and Brennan Temberly?” No one jumped at the opportunity, but after about thirty seconds, two people volunteered. Abigail Linsly and Seth Harlington both stepped forward towards Harry and the newly founded trio walked out of the shelter to get prepared for whatever was lurking outside the garden.

They grabbed flashlights and walkie-talkies, then made their way out of the greenhouse into the night. The group split up and began to call out for the three missing people. Harry was only a few feet from the treeline, and he heard a rustling from his right. Something fast reached out from the underbrush of the tree. It faintly resembled an disembodied arm; It was a dark silhouette and unnaturally long, with far too many points of articulation for it to be human. Harry let out a loud yell, but when Abigail and Seth reached where he was, there was nothing except his lab coat and I.D. card. They could not find him, not even looking into the woods with their lights, so they returned to the greenhouse. The doors opened speedily and they looked out at the woods. They knew not of what was in the woods, but they knew the now four missing people were not going to be found.

 The greenhouse manager, however, refused to accept this as an option. He tore the flashlight out of Dr. Harlington's hands. He ran out of the greenhouse, down the hill, and to the treeline right next to where they claimed the lab coat was. But there was no lab coat, and with the flashlight still off, he saw Mr. Glodds standing just fifteen feet into the woods. Standing behind him were the other missing three. The manager called out to them. No response. He tried again. No response. Finally he turned the flashlight on. He looked at them.

Empty, hollow eye sockets stared back at him. The ‘people’ were wrapped in these deep maroon tentacles with tendrils sticking out of their backs. The manager could not see the source. He tried to scream but could not, so he ran. He ran as far and fast as he could, so fast he reached the green house, in a mere 15 seconds. But they were faster. 

The manager grabbed the door handle, but the tendrils from the creature wrapped around his leg. He pressed his up against the glass trying to do anything to stop the monster. He held on and held on, but the tendrils embedded themselves in his legs, burying them through flesh and into bone. He let out a last cry of pain, before his grip went soft and was dragged away into the night.

When Seth and Abigail from inside the greenhouse realized what was happening, they shined their flashlights out of the glass by the door, but all they saw was a glowing handprint and the glass. The door creaked open, and what was once the manager entered. The tentacles fully encased his body. Seth and Abigail began to panic, but Seth noticed that one of the ferns had released spores that made the creature wince backwards.

 Thinking quickly, he collected all the spores into his hands and ran at the creature. It tried to catch him, but he threw the spores. The tentacles writhed in agony, and the creature made a dash for the forest, where the spores could not reach them. Abigail realized that the greenhouse was more safe than the emergency shelter, so she made the decision to evacuate everyone from the emergency shelter to the greenhouse. 

To not cause fear, they did not tell a soul what had transpired. All the botanists could do was look at the forest and think. They could think and think, but their grounded minds could not come up with any ideas for why the greenhouse would be safer. Abigail and Seth, however, knew that in the walls of the greenhouse, they would survive until sunrise.

2nd Place: Avery Waldman

Grade 10

Perfect Petals

In this garden, every flower is the same. Every hedge, every blade of grass, and every bush all follow the same rules. Not one grows taller than the other, not one takes in more light than the other, not even do they differ in shade. The gardener makes sure of it. The garden must be compliant with her standards, no matter how strict or extreme. On the outside, to the observers walking past, the garden is beautiful, perfectly kept and pleasing to the eye. Only the greenery on the inside know what sacrifices are made to keep it that way. But what if a weed starts to grow unnoticed? What if that weed spreads more weeds and sows discontent between the roots of the plants inside the garden? A wildflower would hear the pandemonium and want change. It would tell the sunflowers, tell the trees, tell the hedges and grass that the unnatural way of control should not be the way of the garden. The garden in its whole would for the first time be different. Some didn’t want change, preferring to be taken care of as it didn’t affect them. Others wanted their freedom and right to grow. And when the gardener walked in on their rebellion in process, she would not find her ideal, spotless garden as it once was. The roots poked through pots, tripping and catching on feet, branches hung too low on the path to catch the hats of people passing by, and weeds spread and spread throughout. Maybe the unclean sight was too much or maybe the gardener didn’t want to make the effort, but the plants got their wish and were finally left alone to soak in the sun and grow to many heights.