This was less the first contact of the movies and more like that time you had tried to learn Welsh in night school. Surprisingly, those Welsh lessons were proving helpful. In a way. Sort of. At least you were already used to flailing wildly at a new language.

You were however, relieved that the [Swǁ_ɪɪɪ] favoured shallower waters and you didn't have to descend into a deep sea trench for each meeting. You had established so far that there were at least 6 and no more than 12 of the aquatic visitors. Counting was difficult when one used fingers and the other ... something else. Either fin ripples or a series of small nodules behind their eyes. It hadn't been completely clear.

Today though, two weeks after your first meeting, you were going to ascertain where they had come from. And how. You had asked before of course. It had been one of first questions the MI5 divers had asked after the Department of Fisheries had raised the query and a team had been sent to intercept.

It turned out, that while MI5 had divers and protocols for first contact they hadn't considered that these two needs would intersect. They hadn't anticipated language either.

So that's why you were called in. A linguistics consultant, who happened to have diving certification. Hurriedly given confidentiality papers to sign, a crash course in procedure and sent to the Irish Sea. To meet them.

The newcomers.

The [Swǁ_ɪɪɪ].

In celebration of the winning entry, Pen will receive a selection of goodies. If you'd like a chance to win a prize or contribute to the site, you can find out more information on our participate page (and follow us on twitter or facebook for news of future contests).

You stand resplendent in your dragon armor at the door into the side of Firetop Mountain. You have travelled many weeks through bandit-infested forests and foothills to get to this point. You are here to kill the evil but extremely handsome sorcerer, Mini Darth. He resides deep in the mountain. On dark and stormy nights locals talk of being able to hear refrains of the Imperial March blowing on winds from his mountain lair. You push on inside. There is no turning back!

1:

As your eyes adjust to the gloom, you step forward into a corridor hewn into the rock. Burning torches line the walls. Water drips from the ceiling. After several miles of walking you come to two doors.
From a door in the left wall you can hear some very pleasant singing. The door in front of you looks very ominous and you can hear some humming and buzzing in the room beyond.

To scream a battle cry and charge through the door in front of you - Turn to 400

400:

Uttering a loud battle cry you barge into the door breaking its hinges and sending it crashing into the room beyond. You find yourself in Mini Darth’s main Chamber of Evil! Huge industrial ovens line the walls. Inside them bake countless Dark Side Cookies. Their sickeningly sweet smell fills the air. You hear heavy breathing behind you and spin round raising your sword and shield. TOO LATE!!! You are force-propelled into the air, bounced from wall to ceiling to floor to wall and back to the floor. Out of your dying eyes you see Mini Darth standing over your broken body. The last thing you hear as he plunges his red lightsaber into your face is, “Nice try, silly billy!”
Your Adventure is Over...

That's it for our editors' picks! The winning entry will be posted tomorrow - so stay tuned!

Transcript

Editor’s Note: This story takes the form of a sms conversation between two parties, who for clarity I'll label 1 and 2.

1: Had another one today...

2: LOL, what was it this time?

1: Straight through the window - like I'm impressed they didn't take the stairs.

2: FFS, why they don't see the moat of lava and the angry swarm of hornets I've trained to chase them and just think "Maybe this girl doesn't want unexpected guests" IDK.

1: I know right? There's only so much you can do after building a thorn maze to say "Keep out".

1: Wait, my guy had a blue shield and a white flag and very burnt nose. Kind of whiny?

2: Omg, SO whiny. How'd you manage to avoid him?

1: Well I was so exhausted after that grant application deadline recently that I just pretended to be asleep. Would not recommend - it only encourages them apparently.

2: Srsly? Idiot. Like if you really needed rescuing you're hardly going to be snoozing the moment you're actually being saved.

1: How did you get rid of them? Let them down gently?

2: If I try that method they think I'm disorientated and try to mansplain what's happend to me. I've tried doing the whole "crazy evil witch routine" but ran out of black eyeliner. I need an information video for when they break through my defence barriers.

1: OMG, video is a great idea - could be like "this evil spinning wheel has possessed them, and she can only be saved if you spend a year in the desert reading Germaine Greer".

2: Hahaha - awesome! I blame mother, she's always telling random knights at the market about her "eldest unmarried daughter" and sets up these quests with their mothers and the whole thing is just ridiculous.

1: I know, the worst for me is that after all the torment, not only do they find out I'm a confident, independent, mortgage-free castle-owner, but that I'm a guy.

The final editors' pick and winning entry will appear in the coming days - so stay tuned!

“Oh Anna… to give you the wedding you deserve! I do not have the means to do so, but I would call myself your husband before you are taken fr—“

Anna weakly raised an alabaster hand to Cecil’s cheek. She turned away her golden-haired head briefly, allowing her cough to dissipate harmlessly in the direction of the window. They both noticed the droplet of blood that stained the chaise Anna was lying in with a scarlet memento of the remainder of their time together.

“Speak no more, dear Cecil. What days we have on this Earth are exactly as many as God allows. If I spent them serving Him, then that is all I need to die happily. Only…”

“What, my love, what?”

“I know it is not proper… but we have so little time indeed...”

“Yes, darling...”

Cecil bent over closer to embrace his Anna. Anna opened her lower mandibles.

Half an hour later, the housekeeper opened the door to the blood-drenched solar.

“Will you be needin’ anything else, Miss?”

Anna, leaning on her formerly ivory palms, burped.

“More suitors, Margaret. Fucking consumption got me consumin’.”

The other editors' picks and the winning entry will appear in the coming days - so stay tuned!