Well, here's my entry then! 
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Absolution
The man awoke to darkness
Darkness so complete he wasnt even fully aware he was awake, at first. Then, a noise
Faint to begin, but slowly getting louder; a rhythmic beating sound that seemed almost familiar. Gradually, the sound increased, getting louder and louder so that it filled his mind with its steady beat, until finally, he remembered what it was. His heart; beating again after so many years of stillness.
With this realisation, the sound faded to obscurity and the man slowly became aware of other sounds. The soft sigh of his breath, the small gurgles from a stomach long without food. Then he became aware of other things. First smell, a foul stench, like that of flesh left to rot and decay; then came sensation. Pain at first, as the pressure of his body laid upon something which, though once soft, had hardened over the years to a painful rigidity. Then more subtle sensations, such as the chill in the air and the texture of coarse cloth against his decayed flesh.
Finally, with the return of his senses, came the memories. He braced himself against their onslaught, as he knew he must. They rushed through him, telling him who he was, why he was and finally, where he was. The memories awoke his emotions, and the strength of them tore a gasp from his throat, which turned into a scream, and the scream into a word, a name
Angelique!
The scream shattered the silence as it echoed from the walls, causing it to amplify and assault his newly awakened senses, making him clutch at his head in an attempt to still the sound. Finally, after several long seconds, the echoes from his scream faded, and the man slowly sat up, causing the shroud that covered him to fall to the floor. Unable to see but knowing where he was; he knew this place, hed awakened here so many times before he didnt need the light to see its features.
Then, before him, a pale light flickered into view. Gradually, it brightened to reveal the form of an ancient woman; gnarled and twisted with great age. Her eyes seemed to almost glow with malevolence, and she looked upon the man with loathing.
Once more it is time, my young fool... Time to seek your absolution in the world of the living.
The man looked up at her, studying her wizened features for a moment, before once more finding his voice, Again you torment me Angelique
Again you force me to face a world I know nothing of. Why do you continue to torment me? Have I not suffered enough for my crime?
Angelique looked over the once ruined form of the man as he continued to rise, watching his body straighten and the rotten flesh fall away as the magic regenerated his body to reveal a handsome and youthful man. Never enough, Marc La Barre, never enough. You know the price you must pay for your crime against me. You know what you must do to gain absolution.
Sighing, the man, Marc La Barre, stood and reached for the clothing he knew was beside him. With a resigned nod, he dressed and, collecting his bow from its place on the wall, stepped towards the door of his resting place.
Perhaps this time I will be free of you, old witch
Perhaps this time I will find the one who will release me from your curse.
The old witch, Angelique, turned to face La Barre as he moved towards the door. You know the rules Marc. If you find her, you cannot tell her of your crime against me, she cannot know of what you seek. It must be real, or you will not be free. You have but a year from this time to find your absolution, or face another century of pain and suffering.
La Barre reached for the rusted handle of the door before him. Havent I suffered enough for my folly, Angelique? Havent I paid time and time again for my arrogance and betrayal? Isnt it time to let me rest? To let us both rest?
Angelique shook her head, her eyes flaring with anger as her voice took on a harsh tone. There will never be enough suffering for you, Marc La Barre!. Only finding someone to love you for who you are can absolve you of your crimes against me; only that will free you from my curse, and allow us both to rest.
With a nod of submission, La Barre watched the old witch fade from view as she returned to the netherworld, then with a final sigh, he heaved open the door to his resting place, his crypt, and stepped once more into the world of the living, to begin his quest.
@FloatingFatMan
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Excellent! Another well written entry. The description was great, making it easy to read with just enough balance between the dialogue and the prose.
Now Im not sure if I want to post mine.
Mr Wuffles, dont worry about the delays, and Id guess most people entered for the fun and the challenge rather than the cash, so imo, save it for another competition (or use it for this one). Id suggest you still do the judging when you can get access to your e-mail account, or have the stories resent, but thats up to you, as it doesnt matter that some of us have shown our hand, the deadline for entries has already passed.
So, heres my entry as well. For those who are interested and have seen the other three stories Ive posted, they are now all group and available as PDFs on my web site www.leighbarlow.com/writing.htm
The Sound of Silence - PDF Link
You doing okay there? Marsha asked, as Milly poured out a ladle of soup to an old guy in the queue.
Milly turned, smiling and nodding, offering one of the two default answers she gave to nearly all questions. Then she tipped the stock pot and showed its contents to the older woman.
Ah, nearly empty are you, Marsha said. Ill get you a refill. Marsha started to walk away, then turned back to Milly. I tell you what, you were going to leave early tonight werent you? Why dont I get Andrea to take over and you get off. We dont want you being late for that handsome young man of yours, now do we? She gave Milly a knowing wink.
Milly smiled and nodded again, and then signed, thank you.
Jake was due to pick her up at about nine. They were going out for a late meal. He had promised to treat her after being caught up last night in a meeting with his boss and those clients from LA. She knew he loved his job, but there were the odd occasions when the life of a corporate lawyer seemed to take up all of his time. How many other people sometimes had to work through the night? Still he loved the job as much as she loved helping out at the soup kitchen, so she wasnt about to complain to him.
Back at her apartment she glanced at the clock seven fifteen. Plenty of time to get over to that office and be back before Jake was due. Hopefully this would wrap up her current investigation. It probably wouldnt stop the Familys bomb making operation, but it would slow things down and if she could capture the lieutenants tonight, and find out what they were planning to blow up, that part of their scheme would be finished for good.
As she was leaving the apartment she felt the vibration of her phone.
Just going in to the meeting, the text message read. Looking forward to seeing you later. Jake. He had ended it with a couple of kisses.
Pausing briefly to reply to him Milly felt the slight giddiness that always came over her when she knew Jake was thinking about her. Youre like a teenager, she told herself as she left the back of the apartment block, but she was unable to get rid of the grin that had spread across her face. It only died away some ten minutes later as her final teleport landed her outside the small office building.
A tiny wail was enough to shatter the lock on the side door and she slipped inside, entering in to a quiet, dark corridor. Off in the distance she could just make out the sound of men talking. There didnt seem to be any guards around.
The last of the Family goons slumped to the floor, the gun he had held making a harsh rattle as it slipped from his hand. Milly looked around at the papers that were now spread across the room, her sonic blast having whipped them up off the desk. After checking the other two men to make sure they were unconscious she started to rifle through the documents looking for any clues as to where the bomb had been planted. Just sometimes, she thought, I wish I could question people. Still, shed get an email to the police and they would take care of it.
As she was finishing collecting the sheets from the floor her phone vibrated again. A call this time. She pulled it out of her trouser pocket and looked at the name. Jake. She unhooked one of her ear guards and accepted the call, one hand still sifting through the papers.
Hi, hon. I thought Id call rather than text as I need to apologise Im not going to make tonight. Im really sorry, but the deal is being completed now and we need to go over to LA to finish things. The good news is Im taking all of next week off so Ill definitely make it up to you.
Millys hands stopped moving aside the papers and her eyes rested on a list with one line highlighted.
Thats my call for the gate. Ive gotta turn this off and go. Ill call you when I land. Im really sorry. I know I dont say it enough, but I do love you.
The clock on the wall showed it was just before 20:20. Milly looked back at the list of flights and the 20:30 Paragon to LA plane that was highlighted.
She screamed his name before he could hang up and watched her mobile phone disintegrate in her hand. As her wail died away the dark office building was left in silence.
I like the stories posted so far... makes me nervous about posting mine. But, I am likely to be out of the game for a while after this weekend, as we're moving and still don't have our broadband set up 
so may not get a chance to post it later.
So anyway, here is my story. It's untitled still, I hate coming up with titles sometimes....
----
A child ran through the forest, branches whipping through her hair and stinging her face, until she reached the gentle slopes at the foot of the hill. There, she flung herself down onto her knees and called out in desperation.
"Brigid! Please hear me! My mother..."
The girl broke down in tears, burying her head in the soft grass as she wept. As if in sympathy, the clouds darkened and rain began to fall.
Still sobbing, the young girl sat up. Her head bowed and her eyes closed against the tears, she clasped her hands together and began to whisper a prayer.
"Brigid, you were a voice for the wounded and the weary. Strengthen what is weak within us. Calm us into a quietness that heals and listens..."
With the faintest sound, like a candle flame springing to life, a tall red-haired woman appeared as if she had stepped out of the hill itself.
"Hush, child."
The girl gasped and looked up, hope chasing the tears away.
"Oh, Brigid! I knew that you would hear me!"
Silently, the woman knelt and wrapped her thick red cloak around the girl.
"They said that you were leaving, Brigid. That you'd help us no more. I knew they were wrong..."
Brigid shook her head sadly. "They weren't wrong, Deirdre. The last of my people are leaving even as we speak. The doors in the hills are closing. Ireland's not what it once was, and my kind aren't welcome any more."
"That's not true, Brigid!" Deirdre turned to look straight up at Brigid as she cried out. "We all know that you're nothing but good for us. You're always welcome in our home!"
With a sigh and a smile, Brigid guided Deirdre to her feet. "Your home, perhaps. But your home is just one of many in the village, and your village only one of many in Ireland. Most doors are now closed to me. Your people no longer understand us. They see us stay youthful as they age, and they fear us." She put her finger gently on the girl's lips to stall a further outburst. "Don't think I'm willingly abandoning you, now, for I'll not do that. I would never do that."
Tears began to appear again in Deirdre's eyes. "But my mother..."
"I heard you, Deirdre. Don't fret so. Your mother will live a long and hearty life. Run straight home now, and wrap my cloak around her. In the morning, make a tea from the yellow flowers that grow by your gate, just as I showed you last time. Make sure she drinks it all, and she'll be well in no time."
Deirdre nodded slowly. "I'll not see you again, will I?"
Sadness darkened Brigid's eyes as she looked back. The sun was beginning to set over the hills as she shook her head.
"Run on home, now, Deirdre."
The girl tugged Brigid's cloak tightly around her shoulders as she ran off. As she reached the forest edge she turned to call back, "I'll keep a flame burning for you, Brigid. Forever!"
Brigid stood at the foot of her hill with her head bowed. Her sisters, one dark-haired and one golden-haired, came out of the hill to stand beside her.
"It is time for us to leave," they whispered. Brigid shook her head.
"I think I'll stay, my sisters. I'm not done with this world, and they need me yet."
The dark haired woman frowned. "They do not want you, Brigid. They have new gods and there is no room for our kind."
"Then I will sleep here, under the hill, until there is room once more. They will want healers such as I one day, that much I know. When I'm wanted, I shall awake and return to the world."
The golden-haired woman nodded and smiled. "So be it, then."
As the sun set behind the hills, the three sisters passed together into the hill one last time.
Under the hill, as the years stretched into decades and then into centuries, Brigid dreamed of the world she would one day discover. She dreamed of friends becoming enemies, of wars and unfamiliar machines which roared and coughed smoke and death. She dreamed of magic, of sorcerors from the east, behemoths in deep caverns and the rise of ancient mystics, and finally she dreamed of a wondrous city to the west, a city where hope stood firm against the minions of evil, a paragon city which she would one day call home.
A city of heroes.
The Purple Party Pagan of Paragon
Globals: @Morgana Fiolett / @Genevieve Moore
Altoholic with too many characters to count now I have all these shiny servers...
Those some nice stories... Mebbe wuffles should just let us vote here which we like the most? 
Oh, I liked that one as well. You seemed to get in to the flow of the writing the more the story went on.
All really nice stories
Got my PC fixed and rescued all my data from the hard-drive but it's got late now, but I'll send some PMs to you guys when I've got a bit more time at the weekend.
On a barely related note I had a potentially great idea earlier on - maybe the writers and artists on the forum could get together and knock together a comic or two between us?
Glad to hear youve got the computer sorted again.
I agree, some form of co-op would be great I mean, honestly, one cant leave the story writing up to those artists, theyll just end up using words with too many vowels in them like Freeeeem! Seriously, this can be great fun, Ive just done the text for a 12 page Mr Men book called Mr Mail and the very bad day which a friend, whos an artist, is doing the pictures for. Well see how that turns out.
To keep this thread clean Ive just started a new post about this and another co-op idea. Go see Linky
So... Did anything ever come of this competition in the end?
@FloatingFatMan
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
You could just read the other posts and find out 
But since my email was messed up i couldn't judge and people just posted their entries anyway.
right after reading those back stories posted i must add my main's back story at one point (if i can find it)
alright mr money bags
shame that, first time ive checked the forums in about 2 months, otherwise i woulda entered
@Infurnus
@Infurnus Mech
My honoured bretheren. We come together, to unite as one, against those that are damned, we show no mercy, for we have none, our enemies shall fall, as we uprise, to claim our fate, now and forever, we'll be together, in love and hate - Jason "Shyboy" Arnold