Contest July-August 2023 Short Story Contest Voting Thread

The theme for our 35th seasonal short story contest, provided by Y'ttar Scaletail, was "Hidden in Plain Sight"

Please read all four stories carefully before voting. You may vote for only ONE story.

The order of the stories was determined completely randomly. The order has no bearing on which pieces were submitted in what order.

If someone wants me to fix a typo or formatting error that slipped through the cracks. Please let me know by private message AND please post the entire story with all changes made. It's lot easier for me to copy and paste a new story rather than for me to dig through the text to find the two or three errant sentences.

Happy reading everyone! Let the commentary, critiques and gushing praise begin.

Spoiler: Story One: "Future Yet to Come"

Future Yet to Come


10th Vorgeheim, in the year of our Lord Sigmar: 2311

After too long on that accursed ship we finally made it to the New World, fabled Lustria. We paused briefly at the human (though Jacque thought that term was far too generous – I was far too pre-occupied with studying the map that I decided not to point out his own people of Brionne are just as bad in their own way) port of Skeggi before continuing further southwards. The map given to my order supposedly would lead us to a device that could well stop the ever encroaching tides of Chaos once and for all. I have my doubts, but I am a scholar as well as an adventurer at heart. Long have I spent learning the ancient glyphs of the strange lizard men of Lustria as well as digesting all I could of the perils the jungles and their temple cities apparently hold. If anything, this expedition will be a test of my long years of study and an opportunity to learn so much more.

Also, the potential wealth in plundered treasure that the museum of Altdorf would be willing to pay us is another big motivator.

----------------------------------------------------

“Sigmar curse these damned insects!” Frederick growled for the hundredth time that day as his blade disturbed another swarm of bloodsucking insects.

The former Reikland captain shot the Bretonnian a glare as for the hundredth time he laughed with unrestrained mirth of the Reiklander’s misery.

“Hohoho, the insects, they like you!”

“Quiet, both of you,” interrupted the voice of the group’s leader. Professor Johannes wiped away a bead of sweat and bent down to study a part of the jungle that they had carved through in their search for treasure.

“Pieter? What do you make of this?” Professor Johannes added and indicated a piece of overgrown stone that the others had seemingly not noticed.

His orange and red robes stained with dirt and sweat, the Bright Wizard, Pieter shuffled over to study the stone. For the briefest of moments the others thought they could detect the scent of ozone and the sickly smell of sulphur as the wizard turned his sight towards the magical rather than the mundane.

“You are right, Johannes.” He hissed behind the inscribed bandaged bindings that covered his face. In fact, none of the group knew what Pieter truly looked like, though there had been some wagers. “There is great age to this stone, great magic...yes...”

The professor turned back to the others, “I believe we have our first real clue. Let us clear this stone and see where it points us.”

Several of the other men crowded around and cut away at the vines obscuring the stone, revealing a serpent shaped stone bearing several strange glyphs.

Professor Johannes approached the stone and placed a hand on one of the odd sigils.

“This glyph I have come to believe symbolises future yet to come, great change. Judging by the angle...the temple should be...this way.”

He stood and adjusted his pack, ignoring the disturbed insects that buzzed around him.

“We are drawing close, men. Be prepared.”

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22nd Vorgeheim, in the year of our Lord Sigmar: 2311

Whilst we have discovered several standing stones that have helped guide us towards the temple, I fear we are being watched.

Several of the men have reported during their nightly watch that they had thought they had seen for a moment a small humanoid with lizard features watching the camp. Jacque called it ‘un enfant de la forêt’ but his people are naturally enamoured by the woodland sprites, fae, and elves of their land.

I know the truth.

It is one of the lizard men, one of the smaller kind. I imagine it is a guardian of sorts and likely knows why we are here. We need to hurry but at the same time be very careful. There are traps we doubtless must counter but at the same time face the threat of a larger lizard man force sent to stop us if we linger too long.

I cannot but help feel a thrill of excitement though. This is more proof that the artefact may yet truly exist.

------------------------------------------------------

It was Pieter who noticed the small temple structure first, guided by his magesight. Carved effigies of great forest beasts stood sentinel, though the years had been less kind to them and in places the vegetation of the jungle had consumed and eroded them. Nonetheless, every human present were held in awe by the ancient majesty those beasts exuded.

The temple itself resembled less the grand pyramids of Khemri or the tales of the great temples of gold found elsewhere in Lustria. Instead this temple was small, more akin to a grand mausoleum or chapel found in the Empire. Even so, its surfaces that were clear of the jungle’s growth were exquisitely carved and (of more interest to most of the humans) were decorated with swirled designs of gold and embedded with glittering gems that caught the midday sun that pierced through the canopy.

It seemed as if the sounds of the jungle, the warble of birds, the swaying swish of leaves, and the buzz of insects, had dropped away into hushed silence.

“This is it,” Professor Johannes spoke, breaking the spell that had fallen across the expedition.

With the thoughts of treasure in their minds, the men did not grumble as they tore apart the overgrown vines and creepers to get to the opening of the temple structure. The entranceway opened up into a chamber covered in gilded and golden glyphs.

Pieter withdrew a torch and spoke a word of arcane power. There was a gentle hum and the torch ignited, giving the inner chamber light. There seemed to be no apparent doorways or obvious vaults and Frederick despite the veritable wealth around them, began to grumble that there was nothing there.

Professor Johannes’ brow knitted and he spoke something to Pieter.

The air grew warmer and Pieter nodded. “The treasure is here but is hidden from our sight."

Professor Johannes smiled as realisation sank in. Of course the Lizard men had hidden the artefact, most likely using arcane science to create a hidden vault. He stopped the questing fingers of Jacque with a hard look as the Bretonnian reached out to touch a gem studded glyph design.

The professor’s eyes flashed between differing glyphs, identifying several potential dummy ones and threats before with a clear “aha!” found the same glyph that had led them to the temple. The glyph glimmered softly under the torchlight as Professor Johannes pressed it into the wall with a gentle click.

There came a grinding of gears and a wet crash as the ceiling descended and crushed the explorers before they even had a chance to cry out.

In the distance a jungle bird warbled.

------------------------------------------------------

The jungle seemed to sigh as the Skink lowered itself from the tree and surveyed the mess the warmbloods had made of the shrine. Its tongue tasted the blood in the air and the Skink fought down the urge to taste the corpses. That would come later.

It scampered over to the opened chamber and moved a claw over a seemingly innocuous glyph, the glyph of the calming of the storm.

At once there came a grinding of ancient gears and mechanisms and the ceiling retracted, taking with it pieces of the stringy gory remains of the humans who had so foolishly triggered the trap.

The Skink turned its attention to what the warmbloods had pressed to set off the mechanism and tilted its head in bemusement. The human had pressed the glyph warning of imminent death.

For a long moment the Skink seemed to consider why the Old Ones had designed this shrine in such a manner as if expecting other races to try and take its treasure. The Skink lashed its tail and decided that there was no place for such thoughts, what the Old Ones and the Slann decided was all part of the Great Plan.

The Skink carefully stepped around the bodies and reached out a claw to touch the glyph of potential and futures. An unassuming glyph hidden amongst the splendour and gilt of the other glyphs. For the future could not be defined in glimmering metal or purpose as it had not yet come to be. A future could be shining or it could be dark and moreover could be warped and changed by the fickle tides of fate. The simple glyph sunk into the chamber with barely a sound.

In response, a different set of gears ground and opened up a small compartment, a glassy orb throbbing with potential sat ensconced in its centre. For a moment the Skink saw within it the temple cities as vast ships sailing in the black void of the skies above. It seemed to smile for a moment before, seemingly happy with the artefact being safe, it deactivated the glyph and locked it back into darkness.

It’s time had not come yet. But time grew shorter by the day.

Change would come, and the children of the Old Ones would meet it.

Spoiler: Story Two: "The Nightbringer"

THE NIGHTBRINGER


The Teacher
"Chaos is our enemy. Every threat we face is driven by a single thing…. Chaos."
The skink priest looked at the class. Almost fifty skinks had their eyes fixed on him… acolyte priests, scouts, scribes. Every one of them was giving him full attention. It's always satisfying when no student lets itself be distracted by flies or the pleasant rays of the sun.
"On a certain level you all know the four Gods of Chaos, their fields of influence and the danger of their corruption."
Many skinks' heads nodded in acknowledgment.
"But these daemons are not the first chaotic threat to the Great Plan. Before Chaos manifested in its true form, even before we were created, there were different entities… sworn enemies of the Slanns. They were called the C'Tan."
"These creatures were not made of Chaos, but derived their powers from it. They wanted to feed from the energies of the stars and the souls of the living beings. They held a strength capable of erasing entire planets, but their weapons were also deception, treachery and subterfuge. As the Chaos daemons, each one of them was a master in a particular field of expertise… and the most dangerous of them was called The Nightbringer."
A hand was raised.
"But Teacher Qui-Chin… I've heard that these so called C'tan are no more since millennia. Is that true? and if so, why should we study them?".
"That's a good question. Are they no more? They are mentioned in the ancient plaques… and time is fickle when you mess with chaos. I think it's better to know our enemies, even the ones that we think are dead. Now, to talk about the Nightbringer, it is said it was cloaked in shadows, and that it was the one with the greater connection to chaos…"

The Acolyte
When the lesson ended, the terradons already stopped chasing the morning ascending air currents. Time literally flew, while listening to the passionate exposition of Qui-Chin.
The acolyte was impressed "I never saw Qui-Chin so involved in an argument, not even during the lessons on the daemons of plague…"
The other students were chattering about the C'Tan, their ancient machinations, their tactics of corruption. Every one of them was clearly left impressed by the lesson.
"Yes, he was very passionate about it…"

The Teacher
The lessons about the C'Tan had been a success, from a professional point of view. Every student had been actively involved, every one of them questioned him.
An inquisitive mind is a mind eager for knowledge. Knowledge is power. They need to know what Chaos is capable of…
"Teacher Qui-Chin? May I have a word with you?"
Qui-Chin stopped his lucubration. In front of him there was a young skink, with the ornamental feathers that qualified him as an acolyte priest, destined to future service in the Vaults of the Ancient Knowledge.
"Acolyte Fren-Shui… what can I do for you?"
"Your lessons are very interesting, but I would like to delve into the topic. Is there some text I could refer to?"
"Again? it's not the first time you're asking me something more. You already have what's needed… further details could be redundant. After all, the C'Tan are only a very hypothetical threat."
"Yes but… please?".
An inquisitive mind is a mind eager for knowledge.
"mmm… I could grant you access to a couple of books I've used as references. After all, one day you will have to guard our Vaults. I will prepare a letter".

The Acolyte
Fren-Shui was finally in the Vaults. Yes, he could not have accessed the Vaults, the request was for the books, a consecrated priest should have given them to Fren-Shui.
It had been necessary to forge the permit a little. It had been risky, but it was the only way.
Fren-Shui looked at the two useless books in front of him. Then he looked at the corridors that gave the access at the most secret volumes and artefacts.
Now, my teacher, let's see what you real references are, and why you're so enamoured with these C'Tan…

The Teacher
"…and this is why the warmbloods are so susceptible to the lures by the deamons of pleasure. Now, I hope you will study your notes, because the next time you will be questioned."
The students rose and begun to leave the hall, discussing the lesson.
A brilliant class. The next leaders will know Chaos, and all its fascinating promises.
Qui-Chin moved toward the exit. Maybe he didn't noticed the pair of eyes fixed on his back.

The Acolyte
Fren-Shui looked at the teacher that was going away.
Teacher? yes, maybe you are a teacher… but what kind of teaching you're insinuating in us? I've read some of the ancient text, and not even all of them. Not the most obscure ones, the ones that you've learned. You were right… the Nightbringer cloaks itself in shadows, so that no one can see it.
Fren-Shui was filled by frustration and bitterness.
I've tried to talk with a couple of friends, the ones more open minded. I was forced to mimic irony, but nonetheless they refuses to see it… they don't correlate the passion when you were talking about the C'Tan and your indifference when you treat the chaos gods. They don't see behind your mask, even when I show them all the clues. What did you say? "creatures born from chaos always reveal themselves, but creatures that embraced it can hide its influence".
Fren-Shui was alone, and the rays of the sun were not able to warm his soul.
You are a prominent skink in our temple city. I'm just an acolyte. Dear Old Ones, what can I do?

The Teacher and the Acolyte
Qui-Chin was used to receive students in his chambers, especially the most brilliant ones; the saurus guards were used to this behavior, so they paid no particular attention to this particular student.
Qui-Chin was very surprised when Fren-Shui drew a dagger that was hidden in his vest, stabbing him… again, and again, and again.
Unable to cast a spell, all he could do was cry for help, gurgling in his own blood while the student raised the dagger for another furious stab.
Fren-Shui did not stop when his teacher was clearly dead, nor when the guards broke into the chamber. He knew the shards of the C’Tan could live after the apparent dead of the C’Tan itself, so he could not take a risk with one of their servants.
Old Ones, I will be killed for this. But at least You know… please accept my spirit and let me swim again in the spawning pools.
The weapons of the guards descended on him.

The High Priest and the Keeper of the Vaults
The high ranking skinks were in one of the inner chambers of the Temple. What happened had had dramatic repercussions on the daily life of the city, and the planning of the activities had been upset. It was vital to keep things quiet as much as possible, and give a… tranquilizing explanation to what happened, something that would allow the muddy waters to clear.
“So, this is it?”
“Yes. The acolyte entered the Vaults thanks to an altered request, apparently bribed by himself. The guardian failed to notice it”
“…and he put his eyes on forbidden texts. The ones capable to alter a weak mind.”
“It won’t happen no more, revered High Priest. From now on, any access to the Vaults will be granted only by me.”
“Yes. But now we’ll have to mourn the loss of a great Priest and a promising student. Because we weren’t paying enough attention.”
“He was just a student among many other ones… who would have thought that something was eroding its sanity? Who could have knew?”
The High Priest gave a bitter smile.
“It is said that in those books still lies a spark of the ancient C’Tan. If that’s true, the Nightbringer knew”

Spoiler: Story Three: "Unnoticed Presence"

Unnoticed presence


Location: Izalend, Thondia, Ghur

The city of Izalend laid silent in the dark, Ulgu had passed its highest point about three hours ago. In a couple of hours Hysh would take its place at the sky and bask the plains of Thondia with light and warmth. Located north-east within Thondia, the most northern region of Ghur, it had been a stronghold at a most tactical position within its direct vicinity. The city was built roughly in the middle of the gap between the Clawing Sea to the east and the roots of the Thunderscorn Peaks to the north-west. The city itself was not that big, it housed roughly fifteen thousand inhabitants including the stationed Free Guild forces. Over the years the numbers had been variable due to the presence of extra regiments of Greatswords, Crossbowmen and Pistoliers in times of rampaging clans of Orruks nearby.

This night the guards patrolled the city walls under a cloudless sky. Koptus was clearly visible at the west horizon gazing upon the walls. The guards walked slowly, their contours backlit by the glow of torches at the streets and buildings, where fellow townspeople were heading home late or getting ready to start their day early. Beauregard, human veteran Freeguild Guard, and Galdir, dwarven Longbeard, patrolled the north-west side of the city during their shift tonight.

“You couldn’t have picked a better night to join me on a shift than this. The sky is calm and the plains are silent.” addressed Beauregard the dwarf next to him. “Hmpff” growled Galdir while he raised his shoulders briefly. After a deadly silent minute, he continued: “It would not have made much of a difference.”
Now it was Beauregard’s turn to raise his shoulders “stubborn folk those dwarves” he seemed to say. They walked along in silence.

On the other side of the city the Great Excelsis Road stretched out eastward like a light grey snake through the dark soil, following the coast. Here and there taken from view by the scares vegetation at this rough seaside. Named properly, because it was the main road leading to the great city Excelsis.

The guards neared the northern gatehouse. The road over here, if you would even call it a road, was the exact opposite of the one to the east. After about fifty feet the regular pavement stopped and made way for a muddy brown path meandering through the landscape to the base of the Thunderscorn Peaks.

Beauregard tried again to start a conversation: “You have been stationed around the mountains before coming here, didn’t you?”
A mere nod with his head was the only reaction he got “that was to be expected”.
“Is it true what they say about the mountains?” he quickly followed up.
“What is?”
“The presence of the lizards from Azyr?”

Galdir sat his shield down and leaned on it while he looked at Beauregard before gazing at the mountains again. “After the Draconith divisions purged the mountains from most of the savage Slaggoths and their Thunderscorn, during the War of Thirteen Peaks, there was a cluster of devastating lightning strikes and earth trembling thunderclaps.”
Beauregard had read about those events in the history registers of the library.

“In the days following these events reports came in of sightings of blue lightning is surging through the mountain range from time to time. There also is the discovering of various stone pillars with interesting detailed icons and masks. The most obvious discovery was of the statues at the road before us, just at the foot of the mountains. The stone statues of lizards with skulls on their heads and shields adorned with different trinkets.”
“Weren’t there icons on the pedestals of these statues as well?”
“Correct!” muttered Galdir.
“I read that Lord-Ordinator Aldelais has inspected them and found that those icons are a tribute to a deity of the lizard folks called Quetzl”
“Correct!” muttered the dwarf again.

“So signs of their existence all-round,” Beauregard concluded as if he had done a thorough investigation. “there are Seraphon living in the mountains.”
“That is easier said than proved.” Growled Galdir at him, “multiple of our units have moved across the Thunderscorn Peaks in every direction visiting every part of it. They left no stone unturned, but there was not a single house or habitat found. Also no real life Lizards were seen.”

****

Seven miles from the city, where the road enters the mountain range a shape shifted on its pedestal. Xenal-kekuil stretched his arms and legs a little before repositioning himself in the same pose he just had come out of.
“You can report back that there is no threat to be seen or expected from this side of the mountain range.”

A smaller scaled shape left the shadow of the pedestal and traveled back into the Thunderscorn Peaks

Spoiler: Story Four: "Avant-Garde"

Avant-Garde

Lady Elizabeth gulped as the inquisitor entered the drawing room and removed his broad red hat. As their eyes met, she was sure he could sense the guilt deep within her heart. But then his gaze passed on to each of the other persons in the room, gathered to await the results of his investigation. They'd been kept in this countryside manor house for three days while the inquisitor looked into the mysterious death of the Earl.

"The murderer must be one of you," the inquisitor began, while Lady Elizabeth squirmed. "At least that is what I assumed, since there was no one else here at the time of death. Yet that premise has grown difficult to maintain as I have investigated each one of you."

He stroked at his goatee as he continued.

"My Lord Herringdon," he said, turning to the Earl's oldest son. "I suspected you had nefarious intentions when I uncovered your illegal trading in black-market livestock. Yet I was not prepared to discover a darker truth. Your lack of religious devotion, your shunning of mirrors and garlic, the fact that I've never seen you in direct sunlight - I put it to you that you are not in fact Lord Herringdon at all, but rather a vampire count masquerading as him, hiding in plain sight!"

Great gasps of shock throughout the drawing room. The accused leapt to his feet, hissing, ready to fight, baring long fangs that Elizabeth had never noticed before.

"Stay down, foul creature!" bellowed the inquisitor, forcing the vampire back into his armchair by brandishing an icon of Sigmar. With the so-called Herringdon subdued, he straightened and turned to the rest of the group, as if nothing had happened.

"Then there is Captain Schmidt, who claimed not to have arrived here until after the murder was done. And yet you told a much greater lie of omission, did you not, Captain? Or should I say, Lady Verdame!?"

More gasps as the rugged career soldier was revealed to be a Bretonnian noblewoman chasing adventure, unrepentantly tearing the false beard from her face. But the Inquisitor was already moving on to the housekeeper, an elderly woman Elizabeth had known since childhood - who it now transpired was one of the most notorious agents of the efficient and deadly international spy-ring loyal only to the Tsarina of Kislev.

Elizabeth reeled with confusion as each individual was unmasked. The groundsman removed a literal skin mask to show the tattoos of a Norscan jarl on a years-long quest to exact vengeance for an ancient wergild, while Elizabeth's own sister, Trudy, rubbed away the makeup on her neck that hid the birthmark identifying her as the long lost heir of the throne of Tilea, secretly adopted as a child.

The most spectacular individuals were saved for last. The Inquisitor only had to point at Professor Munchen for the wise old man to snarl and for his entire body to transform into a tall, insectoid nightmare, a deeply horrifying and unnatural creature that the Inquisitor identified as a shape-shifting daemon of Tzeentch. It clacked its mandibles threateningly and then turned and smashed through the windows into the garden, bounding away towards the woods, with a distant cry of "Just as planned!"

After that, there was only the creepy old groundskeeper who had kept asking about warpstone; no one was particularly surprised when he unzipped his flayed human skin to reveal a chittering skaven.

"But this proves-shows nothing! No one is who they say-claim to be! You still haven't identified the murder-killer!" screeched the rodent.

The Inquisitor straightened again, and shrugged. "I'm afraid I got nowhere on that. I'm not even a real inquisitor."

He seemed to shimmer and transform, revealing the patterned scales of a chameleon skink, clutching a blowpipe.

"But perhaps Lady Elizabeth can shine some light on the matter," chirped the lizardman.

All eyes turned towards Elizabeth. She hung her head.

"It was me," she whispered. "I killed the Earl in anger when he threatened to reveal my love of absurdist, fourth-wall-breaking farces. I couldn't live with myself if everyone knew my poor taste."

"But your Ladyship, you are not the murderer at all," the former inquisitor replied, after a pause.

"What!?"

"How could you be, when the Earl is still very much alive?"

The drawing room door burst open and the supposedly deceased man in question strode forwards, the picture of health.

"But... but I... your body, in the cold room..."

"What cold room, Elizabeth? There never was such a room..."

Elizabeth stared around in dismay. All the walls were made of painted cardboard between rows of tall curtains. The floor was scuffed black; above, there were racks of lights, too bright. And ahead of her -

The audience burst into thunderous applause. Everyone else was standing, bowing. Someone walked in from off-stage and pushed a bouquet of flowers into Elizabeth's arms.

"I don't understand! What's happening?!"

"You're not supposed to understand! It's avant-garde!" cried the Earl.

Elizabeth forced herself to take deep breaths and screwed her eyes shut, trying to focus on reality. The sound of the audience seemed to swell, drowning the world - she was reeling, she was sinking, she was battered by confusion in all directions. Her mouth opened to scream -

And then she woke up.

 

Story One: "Future Yet to Come" by @Y'ttar Scaletail

Story Two: "The Nightbringer" by @Killer Angel

Story Three: "Unnoticed Presence" by @Imrahil

Story Four: "Avant-Garde" by @thedarkfourth

The winner is Killer Angel with the Nightbringer.

 

HORRAY!!

...the only thing i would change in the op is that the theme wasn't chosen by me.

 

That was certainly a bold move.
I suppose that the story will have a guaranteed vote... on the other hand, I also suppose that it could lose one or more votes due to a sort of counteraction.

 

Yep, to review the stories is often helpful in the decision making process.

 

I could tell I know who didn't write it.
And yes, i know this doesn't answer to your question at all.

I miss spawning of Bob. He was the one used to guess the various authors.

 

if i weren't the author, i could tell i'm not.
If i were the author, i could telll that @thedarkfourth isn't.

we'll have to wait. Luckily this time the wait won't be long.

 

Well Imrahil and Y'ttar strongly implied they made an entry. Killer Angel said he made an entry and Scolenex had me out TD4.

Unless someone is playing 4D Chess, those are your options.

Before Spawning of Bob disappeared he mentioned he was dealing with cancer though he implied it wasn't life threatening cancer. At this point I have to assume the worst.

If Son of Bob or Daughter of Bob happens to read this thread, please give us some closure. According to Bob, both Son of Bob and Daughter of Bob occasionally read the fluff pieces here, or at least used to.

 

Reviews time! (with spoilers, be warned)

Future yet to come
the diary alternated to real time development is not a new formula, but some things are being used because they work, and certainly this is the case.
As always, the warmbloods that willingly doom themselves by entering Lustria, never cease to amuse me... "Long have I spent learning the ancient glyphs of the strange lizard men of Lustria". Well, that was some wasted time, I'd say!
Kudos to the author for being able to insert vivid descriptions and amusing passages.
Technically, the right glyph was not exactly hidden in plain sight... you only need to know the lizardmen language. But nonetheless it fits nicely the theme. A strong first story.

The Nightbringer
well well well... leaving aside all the considerations about the inclusion of this specific character, the story stands on its own solid merits, and if the first one included AoS elements (the future to come) this one includes 40k elements (the C'tan and their war against the Slanns).
What i really like in this story is the fact that in the end we are presented the student as the one who was manipulated by the ancient "pre-chaos" forces, but we don't really know if also the student's pov was somehow right. Maybe also the teacher was under the Nightbringer's influence, maybe he was really enamoured with the C'Tan. Maybe both of them were "hiding in plain sight", and it would be a delicious irony if both of them were manipulated by the Nightbringer into destroying themselves. If we're looking at the quality of the comp, this is a strong response to the first story.

Unnoticed presence.
This AoS story revolves all arond the final revelation, and takes its time to drive us readers toward it. The two main characters have distinctive traits, and that's important given that they carry on their shoulders the weight of the story itself. I could point that we all know the "main" characters are also mere narrators, so they don't have a real role outside of that and by this reason,a great part of the story is just an exposure with nothing happening. Apart from that, i liked the overall mood of this piece.
The plus side is that this story have probably the most literal and meaningful approach to the theme "hidden in plain sight".

Avant-Gard
a delicious and ironic piece, that pushes on full speed on the road to parody. Strong vibe of Scooby-doo, indeed, with a further ending twist. The fourth wall is not just broken, but shattered and its remnants pulverized.
We have also a lot of things "hidden in plain sight"... not only the identity of ALL the characters, but even the story itself (unaware of the fact that it was just a piece of avant-gard theatre). Which was a pretty good feat by the author (if you let me say so) that presented us a memorable, non traditional story.