Letter grades are provided to give a sense of relative scaling, but are not objectively measured. A poor grade can just as well be caused by poor writing as it can be by a poorly constructed plot. The letter is, essentially, my review. All that follows is my critique.

Try not to let me discourage you—I consider myself a harsh critic, but ultimately I do want all of you to succeed. Also, I am something of a technical critic—expect lots of analysis of the text, and not quite so much about the plot.

>C
[hider=Entry #1: the Nightcrawler]
It is not apparent whether this entry was intended to embrace or critique the tropes inherent to the horror genre. It does not seem to wish to be considered as straight horror, at least, considering its use of a private screening as a framing device. [COLOR=#cccccc][I](Given the unidentified speaker's praise, the assumption shall be made that this entry to some degree wishes to embrace horror tropes—and therefore their use shall not be critiqued in and of themselves.)[/I][/COLOR]
 
Unfortunately, it is important to note that this framing device was brought in too late and for too briefly to be of any great import. Other than acting as a potential proof of author awareness, it fails to add meaningful layers to the short story without any time or characters provided to become invested in. It came close to being used as a means of bringing the threat of the Nightcrawler closer to the [I]real[/I] real world. [I][COLOR=#cccccc](Readers have already grown used to the idea that the tale of the Nightcrawler is the fiction to which the suspension of disbelief is applied—the inclusion of a framing device allows the story to become internally aware of this suspension. Readers are then more likely to associate this frame with their own reality, and can therefore be tricked into considering otherwise far-fetched possibilities as tangible threats.)[/COLOR][/I] However, a lack of disconfirmation is not in and of itself confirmation. Some sort of confirmation, however indirect and inconclusive, would have served much better.
 
Now, to address the bulk of the entry.
 
The early intro is fairly effective, as it properly presents the setting and the characters. That being said, it does not properly convey the tone that is to be later expected of the piece. Without foreshadowing or mention of the Nightcrawler—or any supernatural threat, for that matter—until the rumours are brought up by the narration of its own accord, it is not clear what genre the story is supposed to belong to. Indeed, even the presentation of the rumours are more in line with the abominable snowman than a deadly monster. This of course leads to a massive tonal shift when the Nightcrawler is actually introduced. Perhaps this was intentionally used for shock value, but such would only be a brief gain compared to the lasting effects granted by a proper build-up of tension.
 
Similar and even less useful tonal shifts occur later in the entry due to a lack of proper scene transitions. Compare, for example, the difference between the transition from T&A to S&J and the transition from S&J to M&S. In the former, the paragraph immediately following Alexis's death begins with «[COLOR=#999966]Sam and Johnathan heard the screams[/COLOR]», being a direct reference to the prior events. This is a good transition, as it links the two together while still making it clear that the focus has moved. Mark and Sara, however, have nothing tying them to the previous scene—only actions being continued from much earlier in the story. In this case, while a direct action-reaction transition isn't possible, something as simple as a horizontal rule to split the two could have helped to inform the reader that the shock and horror of the previous paragraph do not carry over. As it stands, the juxtaposition of mortal peril and mild concern tends to weaken immersion.
 
Improper scene transitions also occur more frequently in a manner that while not impacting immersion so much, can still confuse the reader. For example, when «[COLOR=#999966]Mark then ran and grabbed his camera[/COLOR]», the reader is suddenly back with Sara in the following paragraph: «[COLOR=#999966]“Show me the tracks, please.” He asked Sara as they went walking off[/COLOR]». Similarly, near the beginning, Tommy says «[COLOR=#999966]“Of course we are! I had all types of great times in the woods out here,”[/COLOR]» which would nicely lead into them either leaving for or arriving at the woods. This does happen, but apparently only after what can be assumed to be hours' worth of «[COLOR=#999966]walking and adventuring the city.[/COLOR]» In a paragraph where both the beginning and the end say the same thing, having the middle disagree is poor form.
 
There also cases of repetition that tend to be more confusing than redundant, such as «[COLOR=#888888][…][/color] [COLOR=#999966]and walked closer and closer. Until he got closer and saw two people were there[/color]» and «[COLOR=#999966]Tommy said glaring, he said walking closer to wear the rustling was coming from. Tommy walked closer, [...][/COLOR]». If one were to walk closer until they were closer, they would stop immediately after moving. And if someone is already walking, they can't then start to walk anew, as is implied by the latter example. A related issue appears with «[COLOR=#999966]the red, newer truck[/COLOR]» and «[COLOR=#999966]the red country-ish[/COLOR]», for which the middle descriptors initially read as aids for distinguishing two red trucks rather than additional detail due to their redundant use of [COLOR=#999966]red[/COLOR] in such close proximity; or even «[COLOR=#999966]The last thing Mark saw before being found crawling away was that it was crawling away[/COLOR]», which while misleading, does force a double-take.
 
Such redundancy also occurs often with the dialogue, where a character will repeat in different words information that had just been revealed by the narration itself: «[COLOR=#999966]Mark whistled, it was a nice place to see. "Some nice place." He said[/COLOR]» and «[COLOR=#999966]Johnathan and Alexis weren't very interested. "This is it? I was hoping for more." She said[/COLOR]». It is typical to recommend writes to always 'show' rather than 'tell'—but generally, either one of them is preferable to [I]both[/I]. [I][COLOR=#cccccc](A slightly less problematic occurs later: «[COLOR=#666633]Sam didn't believe it was the urban legend, Nightcrawler. "So, you think it's the Nightcrawler?" Mark asked, Sara nodded. "Yeah I do."[/COLOR]» While the question is being asked to Sara, whose opinion is not firmly revealed, given the context of all three being present it would make more sense for him to ask them both the question simultaneously, and for Sam to then answer alongside Sara.)[/COLOR][/I] The greater issue with the dialogue, however, lies in its frequent reaction shots. The characters often speak to nobody in particular, receiving no response, and doing so one after the other. In just the first section there is «[COLOR=#999966]"Welcome to Oaktree, Alabama,"[/COLOR]», «[COLOR=#999966]"Why..why are we here?"[/COLOR]», «[COLOR=#999966]"Some nice place,"[/COLOR]», and «[COLOR=#999966]"Outta record this for memories, right?"[/COLOR]». While these do provide some minor insights into each character's personalities, interactions between them would have been far more effective at doing so and far more compelling to read.
 
Overall, the entry's writing was not poor, and it did a decent job of approaching the genre. The youths were difficult to relate to due to only Johnathan being given moderate characterization—unfortunate, seeing as Mark was ultimately the survivor, but had little inherent to his nature to root for.[/hider]
>C+
[hider=Entry #2: the Spark]
Well written, with little in the way of technical errors. Choosing to forgo conventional approaches to short stories, this entry instead places a level of abstraction between the subject and the narration, translating what is essentially an amalgamation of the processes of evolution into the experience of a single spark.
 
Though this was not a poor choice in and of itself, it is notable that when a style is founded in a certain abstraction that limits the potential for variety, it becomes difficult to maintain a compelling narrative for long. Throughout the entry, the same base concepts are tread upon time and time again, of colours [COLOR=#888888]growing[/COLOR], [COLOR=#888888]consuming[/COLOR], [COLOR=#888888]merging[/COLOR], and [COLOR=#888888]being washed out[/COLOR]. Limited in how much it can stray from these, it becomes quickly apparent that the vocabulary accessible to explore these concepts is forced into repetition.

Beyond this ultimately self-imposed limit, it is always a challenge to connect with such stories personally, as the protagonist—in this case, the Spark—is less a character and more an idea. In essence, the main draw of this kind of entry is the uniqueness of its style, which really can only be novel for so long.
 
Still, there are some nice narrative techniques used, such as the full-circle created by the first/last sentence—«[COLOR=#999966]In the darkness, there was nothing[/color]»—or the way the narration reacted to its own words, reinforcing the ideological foundation from which this setting operates—«[COLOR=#888888][...][/color] [color=#999966]moving without purpose. Purpose. Was that next?[/COLOR]»
 
An ambitious attempt, and an interesting read.[/hider]
>C
[hider=Entry #3: the Ash Grows Cold]
Despite the formatting choice, this simply does not read as a poem would. The so-called 'verses' are more often than not full sentences, and their length varies to extreme levels—especially when dialogue is incorporated. Indeed, it could be read quite normally as paragraphs in a narrative text—though the resulting short story would be quite short.

Beyond that, it is difficult to break down. There is effective imagery generated through the metaphors of ash and fire, but overall the text is quite straightforward, without much in the way of interesting rhetorical techniques. Still, it does well at evoking the tone of spoken myths.[/hider]
>B-
[hider=Entry #4: the Tenth Circle]
The prose was good—in particular, the first section was very effective at creating a compelling narrative from which to develop Robert as a character. His relationship with his mother was somewhat touching, though it was perhaps a bit too obvious to the reader what he was doing in hell when the protagonist himself was clearly oblivious.

Though this is likely a personal preference, the setting of Hell felt out of place in the story. Synchoron being a human-spider hybrid is given no explanation—though we know Robert to be a somewhat religious man, we aren't given enough details to see the relevance of this creature. Unless there was some missed symbolism, this very [i]odd[/i] portrayal clashes with the otherwise exceptionally mundane portrayals of Boston, Redgrass, and the hospital.

[i][color=#CCCCCC](A minor note: the line break halfway through his first awakening in Hell, while useful in that it allows the reader to process the shock of the moment, is a little jarring. No actual time passes, the setting doesn't change, and even the mood is a direct continuation.)[/color][/i]

Overall an effective piece, with just a bit of conflicting setting designs that make it a bit hard to maintain the same tone.[/hider]
>C+
[hider=Entry #5: Beating the Heat]
It is pretty clear that this entry was not attempting to do much. The writing is good, without being particularly exceptional either. There is simply not much to go off of.

[color=#CCCCCC][i](A [/i]very[i] minor note: with a number as small as [color=#666633]2[/color], [color=#555555]two[/color] is preferred to its numeral form.)[/i][/color][/hider]
>B+
[hider=Entry #6: the Watched Pot]
There was a disappointing shortage of French in this entry. Other than that, it was pretty good.

>A-
[hider=Entry #7: the Springs Gone By]
Just kidding around.

That was perhaps too short of a critique, I apologize. The prose was very well written, good enough that I didn't find myself noticing the techniques used—my focus was instead on the story and the characters, and those too were well constructed.

Ultimately, it's at a level where it becomes difficult for me to critique appropriately, which is why I have broken my air of objectivity to write a review instead.

I very much enjoyed this entry, both for the compelling narrative of Darius's development and because I can personally relate to the kitchen industry, having worked in it for three years. In fact, I'm worried that that might be biasing my opinion of the piece—another reason for a review, not a critique.

I found, however, that the final moments with Luca were left a bit too unceremoniously. When Sacha was burned, it was as if Luca's character had ceased to become relevant. Apparently, it no longer mattered how this shocking event affected Luca himself, only how it bolstered the bond between uncle and nephew. That the man was never heard from again was quite disappointing.

That is all. Good work.[/hider]

The two main contenders for my vote were the final two entries. There has been precedence of me voting for an entry with the second-highest rating of the bunch; an exceptionally well-made entry does not necessarily resonate exceptionally well.

In the end, my [@vote] goes to the sixth entry, [i]the Watched Pot[/i]![/hider]
>A-
[hider=Entry #7: the Springs Gone By]The [i]actual[/i] crtitique of [i]the Springs Gone By[/i]. Hopefully you weren't caught by my earlier trap.

As ever, a great read without significant errors in either the prose or the narrative form. Though the vagueness of the narrators state of being can break the suspension of disbelief when it is addressed by the narrator himself, it occurs rarely enough that it can be pushed aside as an annoying quirk rather than a glaring fault. [color=#CCCCCC][i](It is fine to have a dead narrator, or even for this dead narrator to be unexplained. However, because the text goes out of its way to point out this fact, dismissing it as not relevant, it then becomes relevant and worthy of explanation.)[/i][/color]

The protagonist was very well-defined and interesting, and certain quirks of the narrative style really helped to drive home aspects of the culture that affected him. For example, the following: «"What're you looking for?" I asked. I returned the salute. Obviously. I was a pilot of the Imperial Japanese army [...]». Each of those end points held loads of meaning that a simple comma would not. By starting off by simply noting the speaker, and apparently realizing only [i]afterwards[/i] that silence on the matter might be misconstrued, the narrator makes it clear that he is part of a culture different from our own, and is making an effort to explain to us what he thinks obvious.

So overall, great work, the strongest aspect being the characterization of the protagonist and the nuance of culture clash.[/hider]

The two main contenders for my vote were the final two entries. There has been precedence of me voting for an entry with the second-highest rating of the bunch; an exceptionally well-made entry does not necessarily resonate exceptionally well.

In the end, my [@vote] goes to the sixth entry, [i]the Watched Pot[/i]!