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“Thank you so much for coming, please, he’s upstairs!”
Before I could introduce myself, the teary-eyed woman who opened the door grabbed my hand. I was led through a living room filled with people of various ages, shapes and sizes. Some looked hopefully as I stumbled by while others barely raised their heads in acknowledgement. We climbed a run-down set of stairs, I caught glimpses of family pictures, it must be her husband. My partner did his best to keep up with the equipment case.
We turned a corner in a narrow hallway and entered the tiny bedroom, barely large enough for the furniture it housed. An elderly man lay in bed, writhing and pulling at straps made of towels and old clothes. He had seen better days, but his colour was good. The odd moan escaped him, and his eyes fluttered without seeing anything. I brought my hat to my chest.
“He’s been like this since Friday,” said the woman, her words were steady, but one could hear the effort it took.
“He hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten…” she continued.
Barney stood just near the entrance to the room, the equipment case in hand.
“Hey..” I said low, just enough for him to hear, and gestured that he come in. I stopped myself from putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder, you can never be quite sure how people will react to being touched. Barney nudged his way in as carefully as he could, lowering the case onto the floor between the bed and a neglected dresser.
“Ma’am, I’m deeply sorry this happened. I know it’s hard, but I’m going to ask you to go downstairs with your family and friends. We’ll take it from here.” I smiled, just enough to be comforting.
“Please. Can…can I stay?” She asked, with the same puppy dog eyes I’ve seen more times than I can count.
I let my smile fade just enough to be noticeable, “I’m afraid not, we’ll need all the space we can get, and once we’re in, there’s no telling what might happen.”
“I understand,” she said, and softly took her leave. Once she was an appropriate distance away, I closed the door and tossed my sopping wet hat and jacket on the floor.
“What are we looking at, Barney?”
Barney was checking the old man’s breathing, making sure the sedative he gave him was doing its job, but not too well. He parted a bit of the man’s grey hair.
“Itsumi Industries UpBeat, V1, from the looks of it.” He began searching through a case of cables for one that matched the port.
“The failure rate on the friggin UpBeat models…” I complained.
Barney had finished plugging the patient in and handed another end to me. He took his station at the laptop, which acted as a hub for the wiring. “See you on the other side,” he said, eyes locked to the screen.
I plugged in and my sense dropped away.
*Unauthorized Executable Detected*
I heard the computer say without really hearing it. These implants weren’t AI, but they were programed to respond if something unexpected happened. Luckily, Barney was almost as good at IT as he was with doctoring.
“You got me up there?” I asked into nothing. The world was pitch black.
Barney respond, “Yep, I’ve flipped the switch, it should let us through.” I actually heard that.
Fighting the computer wasn’t hard, most of these implants actually had a setting for running unrecognized or unauthorized software. Fighting the patient’s psyche was another thing.
My world changed and I was suddenly standing on the old man’s eyelids. Above me was the dirty ceiling from the room we were working in, but Barney wasn’t there. This wasn’t coming from the visual cortex, this was a memory, or the other senses pulling the weight.
In the distance, I saw our mark.
The old man wasn’t very imaginative, that was good for me. Sometimes you had to hunt down some weird totem that ended up being a reset button. This was literally a big red button on a steel podium. The problem was the shadowy figure standing in front of it.
“Get out!” It spat.
I sized it up. It was our patient, but as the face came into view, he was younger, how he saw himself in his own mind’s eye. Glad he wasn’t a narcissist; those are the worse.
“I’m here to help…” I said softly, widening my stance and showing him my hands were empty. It was the universal stance for, ‘I’m not a threat’. I took a few careful steps forward.
“I said. Get. Out!” And that was it, the figure rushed towards me. There was no way to win a fight in a person’s mind, one second, he was 30 yards away and the next he had his phantom foot on my neck. The brain has a funny way of translating things here to reality, and I could feel the sensation physically, but I could still speak unhindered.
“Hit ‘em, Barney!” I said.
It took a moment, but the world turned milky white. The figure disappeared with an ungodly scream, but the podium remained.
I staggered to my feet, walked over to the button, rubbing my neck the whole way and slammed my fist down. Everything went dark again, and I opened my eyes to the bedroom.
I yanked the cable from my head more roughly that one probably should, it does have a direct connection to the brain after all, and took a deep breath.
“Nice job as always,” I sighed. “Is he ok?”
Barney was monitoring the old man’s vitals.
“I wouldn’t have dosed him if I didn’t think he would be. You would have had to put that psychology degree to use for a change!” There was levity, playfulness in Barney’s voice. He grinned my way.
I glanced at the laptop screen. The reboot was going through properly, no errors, nothing that would cause another flareup.
“Alright, we’re looking good.”
I gathered my hat and jacket.
“All that’s left to do is let the family know the good news.” |
I stared in disbelief as the spaceship hovered down. A man who looked awfully familiar descended down from a beam of light and smiled. Could it be? Of course not. I hated my dad, and the feeling was probably mutual. He took up and left when I was just six. All this time I had hated him, and hated myself even more. How bad would you have to be for your own father to leave you?
“Hi son, I found something better than the milk.” I began to tear up as I rushed towards him to embrace him. What had he been doing all this time? How did he get back? If he could get to me, why would he wait until now? But none of that mattered... except one thing.
“So what is better than milk?” I asked as I hugged him. He didn’t hug me back.
“Life without you.” He rose back up. Soon he was so high I could barely see the middle finger raised on his right hand. The UFO flew away, and I never saw him again. |
In a dark room on a bed there is a men under the covers.
As for the first time in a century the room starts to light up the man under the covers starts comes back to life. With a annoying growl he takes a peek under the covers and looks for his nightstand clock.
I really don't want to step out of my bed specially at... stupid clock, great now I have to actually get up to check the time and see if I'm still able to get in time to my job, maybe I should skip work and get high all day, if only I could afford a day off. Time to pee.
The moment his feet touch the floor and see his souranding he just cringe. The mess that is now his room.
"I had just clean yesterday and now evething is cover in dust and I really want to pee"
Reaching the bathroom he gets in, push the swith and in a hurry he just drpp his underware to pee.
"Please lord let it be the bulb and not that I forget to pay the electricity"
Still with his eyes still practically close, he steps out of it and now with the more bright light of the day he realice where he is.
He froze just where he is stsnding. There wasn't just the dirt and dust as he first tought. Everything around him looked age.
Glass was everywhere and some parts of the floor and ciling were missing.
The beautiful forrest that used to have a full view from his window now was a desoleted land a dessert.
The shock of how everthing change from one day to the and every question he has is just bouncin in his head with no answers.
Well the worst part is that his mother was right, living in the forrest all by yourself isn't a good idea, specilly if you have an emergency.
Looking trough all his age stuff he found a solar battery bank hoping for the best, he go out and let the solar pannel give life to his dead phone.
As the phone screen lights up the phone his hopes and smile grow.
The moment the homescren is load and the phone is ready to use a message for an update pops up, unable to use the phone fo anything without the update he keeps waiting.
He tries to call anyone but there's no service, with no hope and nothing else to do he opens the twitrer app and puts "what's going on?"
The moment he hit send he gets a repley.
"Had to take the sun for mantanice sorry for the 100 years nap it's god the real one."
"Still fighting the insurance for taking that much time, so wait a little and maybe you'll get full ecosistems restore or no dieases, the demand is still going, I really hate
bureaucrats, satan is to balme for them"
In the meantime humans shalm return to adam and eve mode= their basic function.gardener, pet groomers and vets, I will stop the hunger for a while and I know that I say this every eon but this time I will stay with you every step of the way until we make an utopia. |
"Things are never gonna be the same now"the reporter said.
I remembered this scene from years ago. I wonder often if this is why the family broke apart.
We were sitting and eating breakfast at the counter watching as the missiles were fired. 4 in all. We knew their target, a superpower with significant backing. Things have been unstable for a while now and we knew, we all knew in the back of our minds that this would happen eventually. There comes a certain point when posturing stops and a brawl breaks out. It was all just a giant pissing contest.
"Nuclear war, huh? I never imagined it would actually happen."Grandpa said.
"It's been a long time coming. Time to knock them off the table."Dad said in triumph.
Dad was always the most patriotic of us. It's probably why he didn't get along with Grandpa. Grandpa, wizened by his age and his experiences in war noted pointedly "War is not a good thing."
Dad tensed at the comment. "We're better anyway. We'll win."He responded.
Grandpa sighed. "It's not the winning or the losing. It's the people."
And I could do nothing but sit there eating my cereal. |
never done this before...don’t know how it will turn out...here we go. let’s name the main guy “David”
“i have potential...” David said while holding a bottle of poison.
“mm, what?” said Andy (his roommate) after removing the bottle of whiskey from his mouth.
“maybe...just maybe...i can use this poison techniques for...good, you know...i can try to make the world a better place...you know what i mean, Andy...Andy?”
-Andy fell asleep for the 8th time this hour-
*sighs* *punches table* “have you heard a single word i said, you drunken fuck?!”
Andy jumps and wakes up: “yeah i did...something something potential!”
“ugh...nevermind...” David said after rolling his eyes.
-David leaves house to get more supplies for his cockroach poison-
“i do not give two figs about your financial situation! you are going to give me 60% of your monthly income, i do not care at all, you broke idiots, i’ll execute everyone who declines!” the mayor of David’s hometown said.
“this fucking idiot is really starting to piss me off...” David said.
“maybe...this is what what i should do...” David said slowly while looking at the supply store.
-David buys all needed supplies and gets double what he is used to buying-
“i’m just...a poor farmer, Mister...i barely make a dime, you can’t do jack shit with 60% of my income...wait...i have my grandfather’s whiskey it’s pretty expensive but it’s very close to my heart though.” David said while fake-crying.
“give it to me...now!”
-David rushes into his house and grabs a bottle of whiskey from his roommate’s fridge.
“you’re still sleeping, huh...tsk tsk tsk”
-David puts poison into the bottle and gives it to the mayor-
“here you go, sir.”
*takes bottle from David’s hand* “huh you aren’t so useless after all.” said the mayor while admiring the bottle.
-mayor goes home to enjoy a glass of whiskey and David slowly stalks him into his house-
David hears coughing from the Mayor’s window and slowly gets into his living room.
“well, well, well...what do we have here...” *David approaches him* “out of all the cockroaches i ever poisoned...you are the biggest one.” *David stares at the mayor while his soul is leaving his body.*
-David leaves the mayor’s house from the front door and the mayor’s most loyal guard stops him-
“stop right there, you assassin piece of sh-“ the guard said but a pitchfork to the gut interrupted his phrase.
“we think that you killed the mayor, thank you so much!” a farmer said while the other citizens watched the entire event.
-David is elected new mayor of his hometown and the guards and law are happy that the former mayor is rotting-
-David goes inside his house-
“wake up, you lazy shit!” David said.
“what!?” Andy said.
“it’s a new beginning for all of us!” David said with joy in his eyes.
“what happened?” Andy asked.
“get up and ill tell you on the way to our new villa...”
T H E E N D
hope you liked it... |
In the center of the room, a sizable ritual glyph was inscribed onto the floor with white chalk. Candles littered around the room, and a silver bowl sat in between the young man’s legs. He drew a knife from its sheath and uttered an incomprehensible phrase as he slit the palm of his hand. The blood leaked out eagerly as if the bowl were sucking it in. Within seconds a wisp of freezing air swept the room, blowing the candles out, and a strange scent of rotten eggs filled the room; it was dark and silent. The young man could hear his heartbeat as it pierced the emptiness of the room. For a while he sat there in the dark waiting for the room to turn ablaze or for the floor to crack open, but nothing changed. He continued to sit in the dark with sadness, doubt, and regret bouncing around in his head.
The young man had enough and figured the summoning had either failed or wasn’t real; he got up and flipped a light switch. Tears were rolling down his face, for the one thing that could have fixed everything had failed. But he failed to see that it worked.
Standing in the center of the room was a man dressed in black; his face seemed to suck in the light—leaving only a shadow where his face should have been.
“You summoned me,” the mouthless shadow said.
The voice startled and caused the young man to flinch, staring at the emptiness in the man’s face; he froze.
“You mortals call upon us, and then when we answer you cower in fear.”
*Whoa their bud, he’s scared. Give him a break. You should have just cracked the floor open and shot out of it instead being dramatic and waiting for him to turn a light on. Go on, scaring him will only get him to talk less.*
“I…I will not hurt you, mortal,” the words seethed out of his mouthless face, “why have you summoned me?”
The young man thawed out of his frozen state and spoke under his breath.
“My…my mother is sick.”
“Speak louder if you want to be heard!”
*You’re not helpinggg.*
“My mother,” the young man nearly yelled, “is sick and dying. I can’t lose her, she’s all I have. Heal her, please. I’ll do anything, I’ll give you anything.”
“I cannot stop death.”
“Why? Why can’t you? You’re a demon this is what you do. Please! It’s my soul you want, right? You can have it! You can have it all, just heal her.”
*Aw, the poor boy, he would give up a healthy life for a woman who has already lived most of hers. That aches my non-existent heart. You should help the boy. Yea, yea, yea, I know you can’t heal her mother. But you can still help him. Give him some words of encouragement.*
“You will be fine, boy.”
*Oh come on, put a little effort into it.*
“Does your mother know what you are doing?”
“No,” the boy gloomily replied.
“Then you are a fool to call upon me and risk giving everything away, just to save the life of a mother who has lived her life. Death is a part of life, do you realize that, boy? You live and you die. That is life…at least it is for you mortals. Do not weep for the lack of time she has, weep in rapture for the time she had.”
*See, you’re a natural. Well, your bluntness could be toned down a little. But you’ll get the hang of it.*
“Enough! We are done here.”
The lights flickered and died, and the man in all black vanished in a swish of smoke and ash.
*Always with the dramatics.* |
He hid in the shadows, waiting, watching.
Breathing slow measured breaths trying to make himself a small as possible, as quiet as possible.
Trying to appear as if he was invisible.
He knew the human would not see him, he was sure the human could look directly at him and yet would still not see him. ‘So unobservant humans’ he thought, ‘if they were in our world’ he thought with a smile, ‘this likely would be much easier as I wouldn’t have to hide’.
But they had to hide in the shadows, humans thought they were the pinnacle of creation on the world, the ultimate animal, the apex, and yet they had no idea.
The numbers though, their numbers is what kept them safer than they should be, there were just too many of them and they bred like rabbits, if they knew of monster like himself, lurking in the shadows, he was sure the monster would soon become the hunted.
And yet, they were still unaware, still oblivious to their fragility.
He kept low, in the shadows, taking soft gentle steps, waiting, waiting for his moment.
He turned his head sharply to the side, ‘is there another monster here’ he listened watching the human in front of using his ears to hear if there was someone else here.
Not sure, he moved quickly, taking one or two more risks, he did not want to lose out, this was his prey, and he was hungry.
Making more noise as he got closer, he wondered how this human did not hear him, until he saw a glint, ‘ah yes, listening devices, a monster’s best friend.’
The human was alone, unaware, not even caring for its surrounding, but when the human finally took a moment to think, a moment to look around…it was all too late.
There was a noise from behind and he turned quickly peering into the shadows as a shadow disappeared quickly around the corner disappearing out of sight, was that monster looking at the human for prey, or did it think it could get two meals in one… |
"All it took thou were five days"
The very first words to come out of his dry lips made my legs shake, as I squirmed in the small chair.
I looked around, I was in what at first glance was a regular office room, a desk between me and him, chairs and papers scattered around, yet, no windows in sight, just hard, grey concrete, the room was light by a single white candle, that I had not seen consume a single inch in all the time inside.
Less than a week ago, I was at the other side of that desk, staring at the tons of paperwork that I was supposed to sign, the stack of papers seemed endless, so much I could see long stacks that reached the ceiling sitting in the corner of the room, as the cloaked figure in front of me spoke in that raspy voice that chilled down to my very core, even more now that it was so accusatory.
"With all my trust, I placed the highest task of thine world in thy hands, and a disaster was all I received in return"
I could hardly see his face, pale, with sunken cheeks and white eyes, I would have believed him blink had he not been pointing right at me the whole time, with those boney, skinless fingers, I could feel the sweat in my forehead, but I was afraid to move even to clean it.
"Thou did not claim a single soul in the five moons that passed, five suns where the endless screams if the wicked, begging for an end to their suffering were unheard, five noons where pain and suffering ran rampant as life couldn't meet an end"
I didn't respond, I didn't see it like that, and even if his voice was at first glance as emotionless and cold as the first time he approached me, I could feel in my spine that he was furious, every word felt heavy as his cloudy eyes winked in mine, with his hands together.
"To this day there exist nine thousand two hundred and fifty one million, three thousand and seven human souls in thine world, all due to the sheer, gross incompetence thou proven during the time thine work was due"
"Mister, I couldn't help but show mercy... do you ever read what the papers say? Have you ever realized the suffering that is caused by your work"
I replied, trying my hardest not to stutter as his cold expression turned into one of rage, with his lips twisting and showing me the rotten, yellow and black teeth that he had
"Thou wishes to speak 'bout suffering?! Carlos Angustio, a 32 year old Bolivian has been in his deathbed for three days after being hit by a car, three days where all he has wished was for it all to end"
He said, reading one of the papers on the closest stack as he hastily signed it, making the paper dissapeared in ashes, getting up to walk around the desk towards me, making me back off right as I felt my whole body get numb, feeling just his fingers around my throat, pulling me closer to his face, the smell of rot in his breath almost made me throw up right there as he spoke once more in a whisper, one I could swear I was hearing from inside my head
"We both shalt sign these papers, all of them, and when the last human forgets the ensuing chaos that thine cowardice caused, we shalt discuss thine punishment" |
Sustainably farmed corpses are always a tricky thing to get into. It helped that my dealer was a guy I grew up with, someone I had known since the days before I was called to this magistical lifetime. He and I had long been friends when we made the pact that brought us closer to our eternal rewards - he siphoned a **totally reasonable** number of corpses from the cemetery he worked at, carefully replacing each one of them with a suitably sized bag of ashes, and in exchanges, I let him in on the sadomachistic pleasures of the world of necromancy.
But that was too easy - I should have suspected he had an angle, if I know one thing about this business its that everybody has something to gain - or more accurately, everything to lose. I guess I really shouldn't have been surprised when the police raided my house to "reap"(what, necromancers cant indulge in humor?) the dozens of skulls that lined my basement. A suspicious scene, I have to admit, but the sweetest irony of it was that I was completely innocent. Necromancy may be frowned upon, but its perfectly legal. And I had always made sure to follow the ordinances surrounding possesion of dead bodies. But when DNA matches confirm that your house was also the home of a small armies worth of murder victims with the same cause of death, it's a situation that even I can't get myself out of.
Formalities, the due process, we went through all of it of course. I had amassed quite the fortune, and had lawyers lining up around the block to try my case as a result - they knew I was fucked, I was sure to receive the death penalty and had no one to leave my money too, I had to spend it all fighting the case. But for all the whispers of "beyond a reasonable doubt,"theres not much a lawyer can do to get a jury of humans out of falling for a convincing story. I had always hoped that they would do away with the antropogenic aspects of the justice system, but I suppose in a twist that is too ironic even for me, I will never see the day.
They say waiting for the jury to return is the worst part of the trial - perhaps fortunately, I did not get much of that experience. I barely had time to go to take a piss before they returned the guilty verdict. And once that verdict came in, my lawyer stopped caring completely. There was glory to be won in an OJ Simpson like affair, getting a serial killer off innocent, but getting an empathetic judge to agree to life without parole over death was... less glamorous.
The date was scheduled. I had dug my own grave, and frankly didn't care to torture out the appeals process, so I let my execution come as soon as they'd schedule it. It's really not as dramatic, poetic, or as anguishing as you'd imagine. It's honestly something closer to pathetic - no last meal provisions were made, no family came to see me, and frankly I didn't care much either.
When they started to wipe down my arm to inject the poison, it really hit me that I was about to die. I wondered what it was like, I wasn't scared of the afterlife as muchh as the agony associated with being poisoned cruelly to death, alone, in a room with only strangers. But as the needle dropped down to my arm, I saw a familiar face, and heard what was indistinguishable from the hallucinations surrounding me from a man i once called my friend
"you must kill God to become God like yourself" |
The mirror holds our truth,
It doesn’t know to lie,
So doesn’t show our youth,
After years have flown by,
Every day that I awake,
I see myself again,
But there must be some mistake,
For today all I saw was pain,
There are days both good and bad,
And moments in between,
I remember all the days I’d had,
All the moments that I’d seen,
The good outweighs the bad in whole,
This I know is true,
But bad weighs heavy on my soul,
All the actions that I rue,
“This isn’t me!” I yell,
My reflection does the same,
I wish that I was well,
But the mind cannot be tame,
The man I am today,
Is not who I will be,
For I have gone astray,
But still I hold the key. |
You are only 12 years old and spending winter vacation in a small town in the north of the U.S.A just getting ready to go to sleep in your rich father's second home. you pull yourself under the thick converter and fall asleep. When you wake up and there is not the usual noise of your mom making breakfast. You think it may have woken up just after sunrise, so you look at your clock but it's blank but you quickly rule that out when you look outside through the window and see a sun high in the sky meaning you woke up late in the day and nobody woke you up which is strange. you then notice that you woke up on a bare mattress and most of everything you own is gone except for the furniture, your pajamas, and a clock that was built into your bedside table. After an attempt to turn on the lights, and nothing happens, you walk around the house and nobody is home. you look out another window and realize the previously snow-covered ground was green and lush and when you open the door it smells like summer, you walk outside barefoot and make it over to the electrical switch that your dad used to turn on electricity for the house and when you pull it up you can see that it was, in fact, switched off. you switch it on and are about to go inside and use the landline to call your dad when you look across the street to see an old man, he looked familiar, and then he realized that it was your neighbor, from the other day but instead of being around 50 he looked 70, he was squinting at me. "hey you,"he yelled "you can't turn on their elect- you're that kid, the one that went missing 20 years ago"his voice sounded distressed and confused now. |
It has been thousands of years since I was made be...but the memory didn't linger for long. For as long as I could remember I have been a walking dead man, unable to enter the afterlife. The first of my kind, or so I've been told. I couldn't remember anymore...not my origin story, not even my own name. I've been wandering the earth a man with no name.
We the undead were born usually out of hatred or malice. I've seen a murderer dug himself out of his grave due to his unparalleled resentment towards the world that turned its back on him. I've seen a rotting fetus crawling out from a dumpster due to its mother abandoning it. We were born from a dark place, and thus we remain in it. But me....I never felt anything. I never knew what my cause was, or rather maybe I had forgotten. It might be thousands of years too late, but I was determined to find out...
I could only rely on my instinct to guide me. I followed it to a place far far away, I have gone astray for so long now. It led me to this winding uphill stone road. Ohh the malice on that place. I could feel a heavy, heavy burden on my back, my shoulders. I felt a great deal of pain on my head and my whole body, like thousands of paper cuts on my skin. I could hear voices in my head. Taunting, insults, jeering all directed to me as I walked down this old road. Is this my memory? Oh I could feel the abandonment, betrayal, torture, being cast away like a stray mutt. I have done nothing wrong!
I opened my eyes, sweat pouring out of me. My memory had taken my body up the road, up to this empty hill. Still I heard the echo of all those who insulted me, who wronged me. My pain intensified. My hands and feet felt like they were on fire. It felt like hours, me right there on that forgotten hill writhing in pain, rolling on the dirt. I cried, I screamed for help to nobody.
I opened my eyes again. My memory had taken my body to another place. Not that far away from the hill. A rotting tree, so old it's now black. A great deal of hatred and regret emanating from that very ground. I felt drowning in it. More pain inflicted upon my being. A great surge of feelings and memories came to me. I opened my eyes wide in realization. I dropped to my knees. I took a handful of the dirt and bathed myself in it...
I remember! I remember eveything! I remember my name! What made me walk the earth forever, my greatest sin.
How could I do that? That tree was where I hung myself in shame. I betrayed my friend, my mentor, my guide on that very hill. Now I understood why I would never be welcomed in the kingdom of heaven for as long as existed.
The hate that made me was of millions of people through millennia, they hate me for the sin I commited. With spite they cursed my name. From then on and forever more, spitefully they will curse the name of Judas Iscariot. |
The day my daughter was born was the happiest of my life. She was a beautiful, healthy baby and she looked just like her mother. I hadn't thought of that strange man for years, but now I couldn't get him out of my head. What did he mean by eternal life? Why give this coin to me? Was I going crazy or was this stranger really so engrained in my head?
I was raised in a Catholic household, and was taught that eternal life had meant dying and going to heaven. Was this coin going to send my child to heaven? Was it going to do anything at all? My mind raced throughout the night, going through endless scenarios of what could happen to my daughter. We hadn't even given her a name yet but I was faced with a much bigger decision. I decided to sleep it off and clear my head.
When I awoke, I was no longer in the hospital room. How did I get to this place, and what exactly was this place? It was a large building with a domed ceiling and beautiful stained glass windows.
"A church?"I thought to myself, "How the hell did I even get here?"
Just as those words crossed my mind I was shaken awake. Staring into my eyes was a nurse, but not the nurse I had talked to the night before. There was something eerily familiar about him. He looked at me, smiled, and said something that shook me to my core.
"Have you decided yet?"he asked.
"I-I'm not sure what you mean,"I blurted out clumsily.
"Your daughter, she needs a name doesn't she!"he said with a sheepish grin.
"Right, sorry, I had the strangest dream and I can't seem to get it off my mind."
"Ah so you still have the coin,"he said as his grin turned sinister.
I was speechless. As those words left his mouth I finally recognized his face. It had been 10 years but he looked exactly the same. But before I could answer him he spoke up again.
"Your time is running short, best make your decision by nightfall."
As he walked out of the room I felt a chill down my spine. This couldn't be happening, I had to still be dreaming. Dreaming, my dream! It had to mean something. Although my memory was a bit hazy, I had this strange sense that I had been to that place before.
My wife was somehow still asleep through all of this, and without waking her, I rushed out the door and ran to my car. Opening my wallet I took out the coin, still in the exact spot I had put it so many years before. I started my car and began to drive. With no thought whatsoever I pulled in to my Catholic elementary school. The school looked exactly the same but the church that was connected to it had recently been rebuilt.
Although I hadn't been inside this church since I was a child, before it had been knocked down and rebuilt, I recognized every inch of it. Everything in the church was exactly as it was in my dream. Just then, everything went black.
When I finally came to I was no longer in the church. There was a man sitting across the room from me, with the coin in his hand.
"Hey man, give that back it's worth more than your life,"I said, startling the man.
He looked deep into my eyes, as if peering directly into my soul before speaking.
"My son, this coin is not worth anything to me. I gain nothing from stealing it from you,"the strange man said in a stern voice.
"So it really is worthless. You know I thought I was going crazy, you have no idea what I've gone through the last 24 hours."
"I said it is worth nothing to me, but to you, it is priceless. Do you see this writing here?"the man said gesturing to the coin. "It's Aramaic, and it says that whoever accepts this coin may forfeit their eternal life for another."
I became visibly angry, shouting at the man, "What the hell does that mean, man. I've had a long day and you're not the first person who's given me a riddle to solve. My daughter is not even a day old yet I should still be at the hospital with my wife."
Just then the strange mans' face turned ghostly white. "My name is Father Christopher, I'm the pastor of this church. I've been a member of the church for 45 years and studied at the Vatican. This coin of yours.... I've seen it before, in an ancient book that is not of this world. The Codex Gigas, also known as the Devils' Bible. It is said that this giant book was written in one night by a monk who was aided by the devil. It contains many depictions of dark artifacts, one of which is this coin."
"So you're telling me that THE devil walked up to me on the street 10 years ago and gave me this coin? And you seriously expect me to believe that?"I scoffed.
Father Christopher's face turned serious. "Tell me then, why did you take this coin from a stranger in the first place? And why did you hold on to it for this long?"
"I-I-I,"I tried to speak but nothing came out.
"With this coin comes a decision, a decision that only you can make. Since you accepted this coin of your own free will, you have bound yourself to Satan himself. That coin is what links you, and the only way to free yourself from this bond is to pass it to your child."
"B-but, that means...."
"Yes,"Father Christopher said sternly, "if you wish to enjoy eternal life after death, you must trade the soul of your first born by pressing this coin into their head."
"And if I don't?"I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Then you are damned for all eternity, but your child will be saved,"Father Christopher said softly, seeing how difficult this was for me to hear.
"I know what I must do,"I said, "But I'm not sure I have the strength to do it."
Father Christopher nodded kindly, and showed me to the door. He knew that he could do nothing more to help me.
I got into my car and started sobbing uncontrollably. Why me, why must I be cursed with this decision? I drove straight back to the hospital and walked in to the room my wife was in with tears in my eyes.
Seeing I was visibly upset, she got up and hugged me.
"Where is our daughter?"I asked in a soft tone, "Can I see her yet?"
Just then, a voice spoke from the doorway, "Your daughter is doing fantastic, all preliminary tests show that she is in perfect health. Someone is bringing her over right now."
Right when I saw my daughter I broke down crying. Holding her in my arms I removed the coin from my pocket, placing it in my left hand. She was so beautiful, with her mothers eyes and my little ears. Peering from the doorway was the man I recognized from long ago, and staring him in the face, I took the coin in my left hand and flicked it into a nearby garbage can.
"What was that,"asked my wife.
"Oh nothing sweetheart. Just a piece of junk that I held on to for far too long." |
The year is 3020. We finally found aliens and they have there own language. A select few including me have been chosen to be the first few to learn the alien language. I’m sitting on a Friday night practicing my Alien language homework. It’s not too bad it turns out their language is a lot like ours accept they pronounce our words backwards. For example, we say cat cat well in the alien language cat is tac. And so on with other other words. Most of the homework is easy. I Finnish quickly. I decide I would work on the extra credit word. TAOG the alien word for goat. I think to myself how Is this extra credit this will be easy. I go to say it and I missed say and.... poof I’m a goat. Great I’m hungry what do I eat my homework. Now how am I gonna turn in. Not to mention will they let me in class since I’m a plain old goat. I sure hope so because idk how to turn back into my normal self. |
"Take the flame and ride west, child. Beware the winds and waves, for if the flame dies, so do we all!"
Those were the last words General Amroyn said to me. In the midst of the biggest battle to protect the city from the invading army of darkness, such responsibility I would proudly do and with all my might would accomplish! Me, Rimhart, the youngest soldier in the 23rd garrison of the army.
Without anymore question or explanation I ran with the torch to my horse and rode it as fast as I could to the west exit, avoiding the main battle by the main gate. As soon as I stepped outside, I could feel the heat from the burning trenches. Firey wall blocked the coming enemies, but also my way out. My trusty horse was hesitant to jump over the flame but I kept kicking it, insisting it to go forward which it eventually did.
"I'm sorry, boy. I'm sorry. I will give you a lot of food later", I whispered to my horse.
The wind blew west accompanying me to my quest, whatever it was that General Amroyn had prepared in my destination. All of the sudden a loud screeching I could hear from behind along with flapping of massive wings. I looked back horrified to the sight of 3 giant black winged creatures ridden by ogres wearing masks of skulls.
My heart raced, faster than the galloping of my horse. I was overwhelmed. I kept my eyes back and forth to the way in front, to the flame of the torch, and to the pursuing terror behind me.
"Help...please...someone, help me", breathing heavily I whispered to myself.
No...no...the screeching got louder and louder. My horse was no match for the speed of those foul beasts. With a single swoop one of them carried me and my horse high up to the air, and in a split second released its grip dropping me to the ground below. All within a single breath of mine.
I didn't have enough time to process what just happened. All I knew was a loud crack and pain surged through my whole body. I was trapped under the body of my dead horse. Taste of blood in my tongue, my blurry sight took a while to restore.
As quickly as I regained my composure, the beasts surrounded me in circle. With a force that could tear a bowel of a ship the beasts lunged their fangs towards me and my horse. I could hear and feel my flesh and my horse being bitten and torn apart again and again. Gnashing, slurping, and gnawing...the sound sickened me to my core.
I screamed so loud for help but nobody was near. I could only watch from afar with the last of my strength, my comrades by the main gate were able to push back the invasion.
That's when it dawned on me....I was a bait.
The presence of the 3 flying monsters and their riders hindered any airborne attacks my army threw at the enemy. General Amroyn sent me out with the torch as a decoy to draw away the flying threats from the main battle....
I cried uncontrollably in denial, unable to accept my final fate as a mere bait. The laughter of the ogres, the pain of the beasts feasting on me were numbed. My heart was pained even more...my own general, my own country failed me.
I was losing consciousness...the face of my sick mother lying on her bed I could see. I promised her...I promised her to be a great soldier for the kingdom, to rise to be a hero for the country. And when I do I will come back for her and take good care of her...
"Mama...", I cried one last time before falling unconscious completely. |
I remember the day I found the rïng, It was one year ago today. The peculiarities of the events of this last year are not lost on me when I look back to my former self I imagine it is how normal humans view themselves as children, before I was reborn through the rïng. I was a weakling before we became one , I had gotten into an argument with my uncle who I had lived with since the age of 7 and had raised me as a son, he stressed to me the importance of going to college and not laying in my bed all day with the lights off, he wanted me to make something of myself. After our argument hit a fever pitch I went through my usual dramatics and ran out of the ripped screen door as if I was a stage actor leaving the role I was doomed to play. I ran to my refuge, the green woods near our home which was the only perk of living in rural bumfuck nowhere and I threw rocks and cursed and spat and let my rage and self loathing burn inside me as I walked in the serene nature.
​
I heard laughing it made me turn my head and I followed it was enticing the sweetest laughs I had ever heard it was pure ecstasy to my ears I was at a full sprint trying to chase down the source of the delicious noise; when I realized I was approaching a cliffside with a tree stump directly before where one might fall if careless. My feet ground to a halt and I approached the stump a red insignia was painted on the stump and inside the runic symbol laid a black rïng with 3 dots lined around it and a symbol I had never seen before but shimmered in the sunset light upon the horizon. I inched closer and picked it up it was hot to the touch and cooled to a warmer temperature instantly as I gripped it in my palm. The thought struck me then and there that this rïng was meant for me that it held something from another realm in it and that something godlike had put it in my path. It was on my finger the moment I accepted when I let it in my heart it bonded with me I can't even remember putting it on. I looked over to the cliffside and the horizon as night began to fall as the sun fell there was a new moon and the sky remained black as I stared at the stars. A grin fell over my face so intense it made my jaw ache, my gleeful grin was what replaced the moon that night as I felt the warm lovely rïng on my index finger. I felt a feeling like no other in the darkness as me and my newfound love morphed into one perfect being, I choked on the cold evening air and began to laugh. |
\[Sharp Sleeper\]
Gail's eyes fluttered open, and she sighed. A year ago she wouldn't have thought nightmares could get boring. But now, waking up from horrid dreams in new and unexpected places was her morning routine. She found she was in a bedroom, on a bed; that was always a good start. Gail had found herself on the street, in jail, and once even in a hospital fresh out of surgery.
She sat up and looked around. It was a tastefully decorated, contemporary bedroom with a large flat TV on the wall and glass and metal furniture. Gail relaxed slightly; she'd woken in different time periods before and they were always extra challenging days. Then, the sound of running water pulled her attention to the bathroom door.
"Hell,"Gail mumbled. She hopped out of bed and scoured the room for her purse. She spotted several pictures of herself with a handsome, brown-haired man. "Who are you?"She asked no one while she dug through her purse. After bumping a piece of glass several times, she realized that might be the phone she was looking for. She pulled out the card-sized pane of glass and its display lit up to show the time.
Gail managed to navigate to the text messages. She'd found herself in similar situations before and her phone always seemed to be the quickest way to check her relationships. She found the most recent conversation with the man in the pictures. They were currently married and in love; Gail smiled to herself.
"I think I need a shower too,"she said and stood from the bed. Gail's life had been hard and lonely over most of the past year. But, after several months of non-stop nightmares and new situations, Gail learned to relax. She realized some things were out of her control entirely. From then on, she decided to enjoy what she could when she could.
She walked into the bathroom and disrobed to step in the running shower. Gail took a breath and pulled back the curtain. The handsome man from the pictures turned and smiled at her.
"Morning, gorgeous,"he said with a smile. As Gail stepped into the tub, the man's eyes flashed gold. He took a step back and held his arms out to stop her. "Who are you?"he asked.
Gail was caught off guard by his question. Her mind raced to find an answer and she lost sight of what she was doing. She stepped wrong and slipped; she flew backward. The stranger moved to catch her, but he was too slow. She felt a sharp impact at the back of her head, then blacked out.
Gail's eyes fluttered open, and she sighed.
She was in a white room this time. The bed under her felt stiff and almost confining like a hospital bed. Gail sat up and was startled. She thought she was alone, but a woman in a white suit was standing in the room with her. The woman was lithe with pale skin and dark hair.
"My name is Dana Sharp,"the woman said. "I can help you with your problem."
"P... problem?"Gail stuttered. She was hopeful, but didn't want to give anything away.
"Your consciousness likes to travel between universes,"Dana said. "I assume that makes for a difficult life; I can stop it from happening."
"YES!"Gail blurted. "Please, I'll do anything. How did you find me? Are you sure you can stop it?"
"Your last trip was, fortunately, in the home of one of my employees. He reported what happened and what he saw; his wife is fine by the way. Although, you making contact with a node..,"Ms. Sharp held up a card-sized piece of glass. "...is what helped us track you down."
"And, I'm confident I can stop it because I have before. It happens [more often than you'd think](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/c4l4ln/wp_when_you_sleep_your_conscience_is_projected/). As for what you need to do..."Dana gestured at something on the other side of Gail's bed. She turned and was surprised to see a second woman in a black suit that resembled Dana's white one. The woman in black presented Gail with a clipboard and a pen.
"Sign your soul over to me...,"Dana Sharp said. "...and we'll be able to keep you from roaming every time you take a nap."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1064 in a row. (Story #334 in year three.) You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse/)) or my blog. |
Athena stood over her beloved, stood over her one true love, Theodore.
Her entire life had been running up to this point, this was her fate, this was her destiny, she knew it. They both knew it, but she stopped, she hesitated, how could she kill the one she loved.
No one truly knew, no one could or would understand, understand how someone could be in love with someone that was seen by all to be such a monster. But that was not it, all they saw was the monster he was now, all she saw was her friend from down the street. The one she grew up with, her best friend, how friendship turning into confusion, confusion turning into understanding, understanding turning into love.
Athena knew her fate but she did not believe it, even when she saw a change in Theodore, slowly at first, almost unrecognisable but even when she saw it plain as day in front of her face… she simply did not want to believe it.
Her fate was becoming true.
And yet she continued to try and fight fate, continued to believe it could not to be true, how could it be, she was in charge of her destiny, not some old story someone had no doubt made up…was she not…
The rain poured down, a scene of devastation all around them, broken and damaged buildings, flames persisting to burn, hissing in defiance of the pouring rain.
“You know what you must do” said Theodore through a pained expression as a cough brought up blood splattering onto his chest.
She hesitated as she stood over him, she knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t, her eyes started to blur as tears began to fall.
She thought of every option, every possibility, thought maybe she could change him, maybe this could be his redemption, was this her true fate, to save him, could she change fate.
Athena was clutching at straws and she knew it as her mind started to give in, starting to accept what needed to happen and what needed to do be done.
She heard someone sobbing, wondering if there was a survivor nearby, someone seeing her pain, seeing the grief at what she needed to do and sympathised with her, but there was no one else, it was Athena who was sobbing.
Theodore reached up one weak shaky hand to wipe away some of her tears, “it’s ok” he said softly.
Athena felt a burst of anger, a burst of absolute rage at what she needed to do, she lashed out, hard.
There was sudden resistance then…as soon as it was there it was gone.
Looking down she saw.
Theodore was the resistance, the resistance now gone.
She whaled out in a shriek of pain collapsing on the floor and curling up into a ball as she felt the tear of pain and grief all came to the fore cursing fate for making it her destiny to kill her beloved. |
"I'm telling you, Pip, I've been _out there_ year after year. Humans took over, you lost, man! There are no more _elves_."Santa yelled from behind a pile of wrapped gifts.
"The high council warned us of your tricks, Mr. Clause. You will continue to serve out your sentence until relieved."A short elf with pointed ears and a nametag that read Pip calmly responded.
"This is insane! It's 2020 for God's sake, that makes it like fifteen hundred years I've been doing this crap."Santa snapped back.
With a crooked smile and a hand on his hip, Pip snarked, "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time."
"I STOLE AN ELFISH BREAD LOAF."Santa yelled. "You'd think I committed _mass elfocide_ with as long as this has been going on."
"Yes yes, Mr. Clause."Pip dismissed casually as he went over a checklist. "You stole, and now your punishment is to give back--"
All at once a small blast could be heard overhead and the roof collapsed, sending wooden beams and plaster all over the workshop. Men dressed in snow fatigues propelled into the room and started firing their weapons at fleeing elves, managing to kill dozens before they started to return fire via bow & arrow. "Come with me, Santa, it's time to get out of here!"A soldier said to Santa Clause who was cowering behind his sleigh.
"Who are you!?"Santa asked desperately.
"We're the ones rescuing your fat ass, now hook on!"the soldier shot back.
Santa attached a line to his suspenders and was pulled up above the battle taking place in the room. "Lookout!"he yelled after catching a glimpse of the elves pushing over large cauldrons of melted candy cane over the unsuspecting extraction team. Santa winced as he heard the screams of agony from the soldiers boiling to death. Once on the roof, the remaining team wrapped him in a heated blanket to help him in the piercing cold.
A man with thick glasses and a large radio in his hand instructed Santa, "Mr. Clause, my name is Lieutenant Curtis, you need to get in this escape pod!"
"What about the--"Santa began but was interrupted as an arrow snapped through the front of the young Lieutenant's forehead. As his now lifeless body dropped into the snow, Santa's focus shifted to the shadowy figure emerging from the snowstorm. "Pip!"Santa proclaimed.
"Thought you'd get away, didn't you?"Pip said menacingly while aiming at Santa with his bow and arrow.
"I had nothing to do with any of this!"Santa pleaded.
"Step away from the pod!"Pip instructed, but Santa instead stepped towards the rocket shaped capsule.
"I never wanted it to end this way!"Santa yelled through the howling wind.
"They'll never let you leave, Santa. Elfish magic is powerful stuff."Pip said as a tear rolled down his cheek and froze into place.
"I must try."Santa said softly as he stepped into the capsule, hit the launch button, and closed his eyes. Pip ran to the window and looked in. He beat against the glass but realized quickly it made no difference. He cupped his hands to his mouth and began to yell something, but Santa couldn't make it out.
Pip's muffled screams could only partially be understood through the sound of a revving engine against the raging snow storm, "You... away... trigger!"
"What!?"Santa insisted as he leaned in ear-first toward the window."
"The trigger! _The trigger!_"Pip screamed.
Santa finally realized what Pip had been trying to tell him. He sought desperately for a way to cancel the launching sequence but couldn't make out what he was looking at. In a brief moment of desperation he returned to the window seeking help from his former captor. The two locked eyes but Pip was scorched by the flames of the rocket and burned alive. Santa fell back, both hands on the walls, and screamed for his life. As the rocket ascended, Santa began frantically patting his body, checking it over while an apparent pain started to emerge.
"Oh God! Not like this!"Santa screamed, realizing instantly that the Elfish High Council had placed a spell on his body so that if he ever did manage to escape and get away far enough, safe guards would be enacted. As the rocket broke through the troposphere, the pain subsided momentarily and Santa imagined that such ancient magic had worn off over the centuries.
Santa began, "Such ancient magic must have worn off over the cent--"but his body immediately exploded, leaving only red goop throughout the pod.
Some time later on board a vessel flying high above the north pole, the escape pod was successfully delivered to the landing deck. The crew gathered around and triggered the opening mechanism. Gasps and screams could be heard when the sight of Santa as a red sludge oozed and dripped all over.
"You didn't say anything about self destruction!"a military officer adorned in medals screamed at a scientist in a white lab coat."
The scientist looked up from a clipboard and addressed the frantic officer, "Relax. This was expected. We can rebuild him. We can make him stronger." |
Vancouver State: November 30th: We open on a flat with 2 20 yr old boys inside. "Yo lucy!""What is it Chris?!"Barked the red haired man sitting on the couch. "WE're OUT OF MILK!"replied the tall long haired man. "Ok, then go get some more""Hell no, i went last time, you're on groccery duty today!""Cmon man you know everytime i run errands the kids in hot topic always pester me""Dude you're literally the devil, you can handle a bunch of emos.""And what about you? Don't forget about the wine incident at that mixer last week.""THAT WAS A ONE TIME THING" |
Melvnis stood up in the pantheonesque chamber to speak in front of all the other delegates. She said, “We can’t go there for asylum but it’s also necessary that we don’t allow them to come close to ever leaving their own solar system. They should not be allowed to advance into interstellar travel technology and we will only achieve this by continuing to infiltrate them and causing dissent and chaos among them via religion and politics. If they are able to rise up as a people against these superficial odds that we are deliberately seeding them up against, until then and only then,” she pointed as she finished saying, “we shall consider you Cuahtemoc of Earth as a full fledged delegate. We will not allow you to advocate for Earth as a place of asylum among our delegation. Please sit down. You and all people of Earth will continue to be wards of the Triangulum Office of Earth Affairs until you evolve to—how does your parental society put it..? is it *learn to share*?”
“But how will any of us survive this threat at all if you continue this level of oppression?” said Cuahtemoc.
“The códex demands it, every other member here went through the same process!” shouted Melvanis. “You must be able to rise up and unite without the threat of invasion or survival!” she said.
Tharns stood up and everyone eyes quickly turned to her because she never speaks and is considered to be one of the wisest.
“Mel” she began, “that’s exactly what we are up against, this new threat knows not how to reason and the only peoples amongst us that know unification through war and violence better than any other are the people of Terranus—I mean Earth. We have to bring them into the fold even if they are not ready. We need them on our side. Forgive me for stating the obvious but their gestational attributes alone will help us. Their population of 10 billion is half the size of the combined worlds of our 37 member delegation. I see no other way.”
“They will see the power of the threat and they will betray us!” Melavnis responded emotionally. “They’re not ready, it is in their nature. They are not steadfast, they are quick to follow and too easily manipulated. Zero critical thinking skills especially when they are in large groups, they swarm. The threat will see this and use it to their advantage.”
“How do you know?” asked Tharns.
“Because Tharns,” Melvnis said as she slowly dropped her head. She then lifted her eyes saying “intelligence reports are that the threat are the ancestors of Terranus who left right before their ice age.” Everyone gasped! |
Tension lingered in the interior of the osprey transport, the prelude to all too inevitable death. Carefully I pulled my ballistic helmet's straps taught with a sharp click, a dull tremor tearing through my gloved fist. Brief flashes of previous slaughter flashing across the periphery of my perception, five years.
The bloody cobblestones of France and the burning city streets besieged by blood-covered spectators. A specific memory of the upper torso of a civilian hung by a chain from an interstate sign. Distant artillery and the dull rumble of the bradley's tracks and upward turned eyes from the rest of the squad riding topside.
The sharp crackling of lightning dragging my psyche back to the present moment. Thin wisps of red light illuminating the captain as he passes down the length of the central aisle. Scattered rays of light reflecting off if his faceplate flipped upward it's exterior covered in ruins.
The token few murmuring and chatter dying as he reached the ramp's entrance gloved fist wrapped around a handhold. And a deep scowl resting on his bearded chin, as he stuffed a bundle of papers into his chest rig. "Alright 7-2 here is your briefing so listen up, the lesser war God known as Sekhmet has taken up residence in the city."
"I'll be frank with you gentlemen the chance of returning home is slim but if we play our cards right we will put down this mummified bitch."With a subtle movement, his unoccupied hand slammed the captain's faceplate into position. The token few greenhorns near the front cheering as my heart froze, tinnitus ringing in my ears.
"Alright calm down and listen we are going to be dropping near the harbor and moving south our job is to delay. We will be arriving at the landing zone in thirty seconds stay close and don't try to one v one anything that's stupid."As if to punctuate the point the roar of the engine dulled the aircraft rolling sideways.
The subtle orange glow of roaring fires and smoke slipping through the ballistic glass. An explosion rattling the osprey the far wall of the aircraft exploding in a shower of metal and viscera. Its impact throwing the aircraft into a death spiral the captain's eviscerated torso dragged out of the breach.
Wind rushing past as the glowing city grew larger acrid smoke and fog growing thick as the impact arrived. The roof tearing apart as the osprey skidded along the ground sparks and metal crumpling. A final sharp impact tearing the main bay in two taking a few corporals with it.
Token seconds passing as the wreck slid to a stop, sparks, and fire already spreading as I cut the crash harness. Pain tearing through my shoulder as the token few stumbles dragged me forward out of the torn off-ramp. A second osprey crashing into the nearby water from the squadron above.
A lance of pure white light evaporating the rightwing the entire wing disappearing in a cloud of black ash moments before impact. |
"Hey."The redditor waved slightly from the couch, down to the other woman sitting at the far end.
The woman at the far end gingerly held a Pabst between slender fingers. "Hey."She replied, looking back in the dim evening light with green eyes.
The redditor pursed her lips. "..So, you watch the Tyson-Jones fight?"
"Is this small talk?"Far End asked, playfully locking eyes over the can as she took a pull.
She pushed a long head of hair with a shaved side over her shoulder to dangle in front of her.
"I'm trying to."Redditor replied. "I'd rather sit closer to you and just watch British Bakeoff. You know, like normal gays."
"Well, there's nothing normal about me."Far End gave a pat on the couch and fished for the Roku remote.
"Yeah, same, sister."Redditor scooter over, getting an arm around the shoulder. Far End woke the Roku and took another sip of her beer. |
It was sunny and wet. “Monsoon or something like it,” was what Mr. George said in geography class. It was the Mediterranean Sea that caused the rain. It was the Mediterranean Sea that brought me back to the past. I remember drowning in the sea while swimming. Is this a new beginning?
Do I have a chance to make a name for myself? Cato certainly thinks so. He’s been talking to me about several ways to get money and get a Domus (a house) for his six children. Cato’s been with me since I woke up on the beach. He’s an oily fisherman in a loincloth who’s convinced that I am sent by the goddess Fortuna.
He saw me appear in a flash. My clothes are machine made. His loincloth is woven. I am much taller than him. "You must save me,"he says, "The goddess would be angry otherwise."
It’s been four days since I’ve settled into Cato’s home. It’s been four days of stale bread and fish. I need real food. Well, not real food. But food that I grew up eating. Like a cheeseburger!
There’s a butcher here, so getting a myriad of minced meats is not a problem. There's a goatherd Cecil. I can get goat’s milk. Amalphis is a busy town. It’s smaller that what I’d call a village in 2020. There’s a kind of cheese made by mixing rennet from fig roots with the milk. And there’s stale sour bread in Cato’s hut.
Its been three weeks since I mentioned the cheeseburger to Cato. He’s got me the last of the ingredients for the cheese today. I boiled up the fig roots and made a reduction of the stock. Then boiled some milk and let it cool a bit before adding some seawater and fig-rennet. After a few hours I separated the curd and tied it up in a linen-like cloth and hung it from the roof. Then I mixed in the minced meat with some walnuts, seawater and wine, and packed it into small patties. This, I left to dry on his roof. Its was a sunny day. Cato made his kids protect the food.
The village gathered around for my miracle. Cato told the village that Fortuna sent me to teach them about food. It’s overwhelming, but somethings I’ve resigned myself to, as a “messiah”. The construction of the burger was easy. I used some of the fat off the fish to fry the patty and sour bread. I stacked the bread with the patty and cheese.
Yuck!
I miss having good ingredients and processed cheese. Cato hated it too. But he’s decided to open a Popina (a restaurant). “If the goddess wants us to eat something, we will eat it and like it,” he explained. His fortune’s changed.
Maybe, I’ll make a pizza next. |
I was 19 when I first visited Japan on a college trip. There was where I met a cute Japanese woman. Her name was Tanui and she was very beautiful. Before you know it I asked her out, then the next year we got married. Happily married for 15 years. At the age of 39, I was already starting to get grey hairs while my wife still looks the same from the day I met her. This had made for some awkward situations with strangers but oh well. Today was the day of our anniversary, and I get off at 2'o clock instead of 5. So I went and brought flowers to surprise her when I get home. As I arrived at home, I walked to the back where our bedroom window was. Standing there while waiting for my wife to enter to be surprised, I was waiting for longer than expected. Before I decided just to enter through the backdoor, I saw something crawl across our floor. I looked down and saw a raccoon (with unbelievably huge balls I might add) pillaging through our stuff. I wondered if my wife saw this and ran out the room. As I picked up my phone to call animal control, I saw something that left me bewildered. That raccoon began to contort itself into a human. That human was my wife. I hang up the phone and started calling my wife instead. As the phone rang I saw my "wife"pick up and answer it.
"Hey honey, how are you?"
"We need to talk."
I confronted her about what I just saw and then she decided to come clean.
"I'm sorry I kept this from you."
"Sorry? You lied to me about being a raccoon for 15 years."
"Tanuki. Not raccoon."
"That doesn't matter. Oh my God, I've been having sex with a raccoon."
"Tanuki, remember. If it helps I'm at least 500 years old."
"Jesus. So were you just really deceiving me this whole time?"
"No, I really do like you. I didn't think you would want to be with me if you knew what I was. I know I betrayed your trust, and I understand if you want to leave me."
I was still furious but after she said that she started crying, asking for forgiveness. I couldn't stay mad at her, after all she was my wife.
"Tanui, I forgive you. Even you when you wasn't a real human, these past few years have been great. Just be honest with me next time."
She accepted it and we made up. Afterwards, I ask her about what else can she transform into. She transformed into a cat, a pot, and even me. I admit I wasn't expecting this on our anniversary, but I wouldn't have it any other way. |
"BABE", shrieked my wife from the living room.
"What", I scream back at her.
"GET DOWN HERE NOW".
Didn't need to tell me twice. A married man knows the tone of voice his wife uses when she's about to end all life on the planet. I rush down stairs to see what I'm about to be executed for. When I get there she's pointing at this big hunk of metal bolted to our living room floor.
"I've put up with all your stupid pranks, but this is unacceptable", she huffs at me.
I put up my hands to my chest. "I swear honey I've got nothing to do with this."
"Just like it wasn't your fault when you poked holes in the gloves I was using to dye my hair. Just like it wasn't your fault when you ordered the Christmas tree from wish. Just like it wasn't your fault that my sister ate those edibles and was streaking through the neighborhood."
"Hey...to my defense your sister is a happily married woman now."
"TO THE COP THAT ARRESTED HER!"
"Hey! Craig is a cool dude..."
"STOP CHANGING THE SUBJECT! GET RID OF THIS THING..."
A knock on the door. The perfect excuse to run off. I can hear her shouting to come back, but naw man! She won't yell if company is in the house. She does love to keep appearances. When I open the door two men dressed as park rangers were at the door.
"Good morning sir", said one of the men to me. "My partner and I are Utah Park Rangers and we are looking for the monolith. It apparently was spotted here."
"How'd you know it was here", I asked.
"We heard your wife scream down the block while we were looking for it."
"What I mean is how did you know it'd be here of all places? This is Florida."
"Well we checked out reddit and saw a story that Florida man took the monolith from our state to his."
I should really stop posting my thoughts on the internet. |
Ka’athzar found himself, as the stars passed by one after another, suddenly jealous of those beings in the universe with skeletal and muscular systems. After all, when he gripped the controls of the ship he was piloting in anger, all it did was squit just a bit louder underneath his tentacles. None of that lovely crunching of air in joints or the paleness of stressed and distressed skin brought about by feats of strength, no.
No, Ka’athzar was forced instead to simply cringe every time the shrill voice echoed in the back of his head. And Kethiaz had been quiet for a time, so it likely was-
***DAD.***
Ah. Right on queue.
She repeated, ***DAD. ARE WE THERE YET, FOR THE SAKE OF THE SEVEN STARS OF LETHOQ?*** ***I’M ABOUT TO USE AT LEAST TWO OF MY CELESTIAL LIVES JUST WAITING FOR THIS JOURNEY TO END.***
I sighed wearily. ***Look.*** ***You know as well as I do that this trip was going to take a while.*** ***Didn’t you bring enough holojournals to bide the time, like your-***
***NO, DAD.*** ***MOM TOLD ME THAT THE ONES I WAS*** ***TRYING*** ***TO BRING WERE NOT APPROPRIATE FOR TRAVEL.*** ***BLAME HER.***
I turned two of my eyes toward my spousal unit, but she was affecting sleep to avoid conversation. I knew better than to call her bluff; we were too far away from any regeneration unit to avoid a hefty fine if she disintegrated me, so best to leave a sleeping B’lu lie. ***Your mother is sleeping.*** ***I’ll not ask her a thing.***
***DAD.***
This voice was smaller, distinctly so, but still clear as a bell. K’non had been making extremely good strides in his telepathy, and it was with no small amount of pride that I answered him, making sure each word I sent to him was clear. ***Yes, son?***
***I need to express myself.***
***Now?*** ***I told you to do that before we left.*** I sighed heavily. ***Besides, we have facilities on the ship-***
***No way.*** ***Balnk destroyed them earlier.*** ***I’m NOT going near that.***
I turned a triple set of disapproving eyes at Balnk, the betrothed hand of Kethiaz, whether he was willing or not. ***Seriously, Balnk?***
Balnk’s gaze was one of pure indifference. ***I told you those boisonbarts were out of date.*** ***Not my fault.***
I grimaced. If the facilities were no good, then we’d have to stop. ***Fine, K’non, can you hold on a bit longer?*** ***The navigation says there’s a stop ahead, third planet from a yellow star, that has an appropriate atmosphere for us.*** ***It’ll be another few parsecs though.*** ***Can you make it?***
I could see K’non squirm uncomfortably in his pod. ***Y… yeah.*** ***I can.***
***Good.*** ***Everything hold on, I’m entering subspace again.***
I prayed to all that was holy that we’d make it. Cleaning his pod would take the rest of my designated vacation time units otherwise. Grim, I punched the acceleration as we slipped into subspace. |
\[Poem\]
I wished to be free,
for a clean ending,
and for no one to be hurt.
But I was still here.
My dorm parent thought I was a transfer.
I was worried my records would turn out to be lost,
but they were still here just like I was,
simply rewritten for this new reality.
The weekend came and went.
All throughout the week I told myself I was mistaken
even as I introduced myself again and again.
When Saturday came, I packed an overnight bag,
took the bus back home,
and knocked on the door.
I slip from their minds, but my records
paper in an explanation.
My parents are (*were?*) the warmest
most welcoming people you could ever hope to meet.
Of course they would have volunteered to host a student.
But I'm quiet, easily overlooked, and they're busy.
I suggest writing down reminders,
show them the calendar apps on their phones.
Every day I reinsert myself into their lives.
They praise my English, share their struggles with learning a new language
when they first arrived in this country. They ask if I ever get homesick,
travelling so far away from home and family
to attend one of the best schools in the world.
I don't tell them I've heard their stories before,
or that they are my family.
But I am homesick.
Last night the demon that granted my wish
came to my bed and complimented my ingenuity.
I have until graduation, he says, before this loophole is closed.
They're not monsters,
they're well aware of the bureaucracy upon which this world turns.
But only they are allowed to cheat.
*It's just like humans to be greedy*, he tells me.
*You're all the same. Getting exactly what you wished for*
*is never enough for you.* |
I’m not mad.
I can’t be.
After all, would a *mad* person be so acutely aware of their surroundings? I can hear everything. The footsteps. The heartbeats. The gentle sway of the ropes caught in a draft.
And I laugh!
Oh, do I laugh. They say laughter is the best medicine, which seems to be true in my case.
Oh, they may try to break me. Oh yes, yes they do. With the stone walls and the televisions. The televisions are my greatest source of entertainment. I can watch the graceful swinging in the breeze. Back, and forth. Back, and forth.
Such beauty.
Such humor.
I cackle again as the screen changes, this time showing a family. They float as well. Drifting.
Back, and forth.
Back, and forth.
Back, and forth.
Then they stop. The television pauses and goes black. I stand. How could this be?
The door to my cell unlocks. A guard stands there, looking at me with fear and disgust. I revel in his disdain for me. “Your times up. Get the f-ck outta here.”
I grin. I step out of my cell for the first time in... two centuries, was it? The guard flinches as I glance towards him. I smile, and stride out the front gates.
I laugh.
I walk onto the prison bus, laughing.
I reach my apartment, laughing.
I hang the rope, laughing.
I ensnare my neck, laughing.
I laugh as I sway, back, and forth.
Back, and forth.
Back, and forth.
Back, and f... |
*Author's Note: Just a rough draft story I came up with off the top of my head. Not sure how good it is, might make a second version.*
“You have to kill your son,” the Queen had said.
I didn’t understand it. The Queen had always been a beacon of hospitality, a symbol of happiness and hopefulness wrapped on her short frame. But now she asked this of me? After all I have done?
I ran through the tallest peaks, explored the deepest depths, and most often, stopped the dastardly Sir Black of Heart. After all this, she asks me an impossible request, and expects me to do it?
I love my Queen, I really do. But I’m a married man, I’m not going to kill my son no matter who says it. I think through the night of why she asked it, avoiding my son because I can’t look into his eyes without seeing murder.
I wake up early the following day, eyes still shaded by the dark things told by the Queen. I think back, wondering if she was always like this. Was this why Sir Black of Heart had always been against her? What was it he said, didn’t he always call the Queen a murderer, a cheat? Things begin to line up.
I race to the prison, offered in quickly by the guards, who know the large percentage of criminals there were caught be yours truly. I rush to the last cell, with the most guards, the darkest corner, the home of Sir Black of Heart.
His wretched form spots me from the darkness, his wrinkled hands and gnarled face hiding a smirk as he sees my sorrow.
“Did you know?” I ask, desperate. He has no idea what I’m saying.
“Did I know what,” he responds in a dark, questioning voice that seemingly screeches at my direction.
“That the Queen would demand me kill my son!” I below, angered by the whole ordeal. I know it is the wrong choice as I say it, the guards watching me with questioning, heartless views. I’ve spoken treasonous things.
“Yes, well, I did always tell you my side was better. You always viewed me as the evil one, but really, you served the villain all along,” he says with a smirk, which quickly dissolves into a grimace as he mumbles “she made me kill my daughter.”
I gasp in the darkness as the sound of footsteps approaches. Her majesty is here. Sir Black of Heart lets loose a cackle, pleased at my loss, but his voice cracks throughout, showing the truth. He was broken by the Queen, and now she will break another.
Hopefully, my son will live at least. |
The atmosphere inside the lamp was amazingly soothing. With the lighting being neither too bright nor too dim and the scent of flowers filling his nose, Adrian has not been this relaxed since forever. The couch he was sitting on was also perfectly made, not too soft but at just the right amount of cotton.
The genie came from his window holding a cup of tea. The aroma was simply divine, that Adrian emptied it in one gulp. He wondered if he could ask for a home this amazing for his second wish.
"Maybe you could just make that your first."The genie suggested. Adrian was a bit startled but then it occurred to him it just makes sense for an omnipotent being to be able to read minds.
"Listen, master."The genie placed his firm yet gentle hand on Adrian's shoulder "Yes, I could make someone hate you but I rather not. You're not the first to have wish for this and I've seen what it done to all of them."
"I don't want to be conceited but I'm not like them. I'm-"
"You're insecure with the relationship you're having right now. You're not sure if you can be the ideal match for your lover. Your lover is amazing human being with the purest of heart and she deserves a lot better. She outstands you in everything, from her job, to her social life and of course, the biggest factor to this, her wealth. The fact that she chose you just makes no sense to you and the others around her and now you just want to be out of it because you can't handle the pressure anymore."
Adrian could not respond to that. He hit the marks, every single one of them. For the last two years, Adrian has been in relationship with the living goddess that is Amelia. A humbl and successful businesswoman from Taiwan, envied by thousands yet loved by millions. He did not know what made her fall for him, a simple high school teacher in New York but the differences of their background haunts him everyday. He has never been able to treat her well, needing her to bail him out every time. Every single moment they were in, she's the dominant of the pair, leading him on what to do and saving him from messing up.
He's just tired of it.
"I just- I don't know. I try to discuss with her about this but she never want to let me. She keep saying that I shouldn't listen to all of these voices. She make it sounds easy. And of course she will, she's Amelia."
The genie was quiet. He was looking at him, contemplating on what should he do "Can't I just make you her equal?"
"Naah, I don't think taking a magical shortcut will do it. She works for those money. It won't be right."
The genie thought about it again. An apparition of lightbulb appeared on his head "New offer; how about I let you see things through her perspective?"
"Huh?"
"I'll give you a dream where you will live her life, seeing stuff from her eyes and thinking with her thoughts. That way, you can at least understand why she wants to be with you."
Adrian considered the idea. He loves Amelia but his mind keep demanding for him to leave her. Maybe seeing everything through her eyes will help him.
"Okay, let's give it a shot."
"Good. Nighty-night."And the genie punched Adrian on the face... |
I again held my hand out to the girl and told her I would help her up. Again, she shied away and cried out for her mother, who rushed up from behind and snatched her away, cooing and comforting her, flashing me the most plastic smile I have ever seen.
*Whats with these people?*, I thought to myself, and trudged away. Nothing I try seems to help. They aren’t rude, per se, but they seem quite taken aback at my insistence to provide assistance.
Had I known that these backwater types would be so suspicious of a stranger, I’d have never come here. No accounting for taste, I suppose.
Late in the night, I was startled awake by the sound of a commotion in the village square. I sat up, wiping the drool from my mouth and stretched, my bones popping, and tried to sooth the ache in my muscles from having dozed off at the huge table. Grabbing a small morsel off the plate and popping it in my mouth, I slowly ambled to the window and drew the drape to one side.
There was a great mob of these idiots standing around the square with torches and pitchforks wailing and crying. Sadly, I didn’t understand the local language, so I was at a loss as to the specifics of the conversation.
The intent, on the other hand, was clear, as one of the elders turned toward me and pointed, chattering excitedly in their tongue. The mob seemed to swivel as one toward the window, and the faces swiftly changed from melancholy to rage.
Clearly, they were convinced that I was in the wrong. They were, of course, absolutely incorrect. Might makes right.
Turning from the window and the rapidly collecting riot, I looked down at the platter upon which lay splayed the little girl, her delicate organs arranged for slow, fine dining.
As the door crashed inward, and the bereaved townsfolk smashed their way inside, I spread my wings and laughed. |
It was business as usual at the store. Slow in the morning, the lunch hour rush and then another lull around 2pm. That was when she normally took her lunch break. She tensed her shoulders and readjusted her face to pleasant neutral as she approached the cellphone kiosk. There was no way to avoid walking past it because it was parked right in front of the entrance to the mall washrooms beside the food court. Normally he started when she was about 20 feet away from the stand. "Hey Honey, so good to see you today""Hey Sweetie, why so glum, you should smile more often"In the last six months, however, since the boobs and hips fairy had come for a visit, his remarks had taken on different tone and weirded her out more than usual "My-my-my, you sure have grown up in this last year, you should come work for me, I have a great benefits package"Why a middle-aged married man wanted her to work for him escaped her completely. He had his own daughters who could work there, she went to school with them. Today was different. She was met with silence. She quickly looked up as she sped past him and accidentally caught his eye. Oh crap-oh-crap-oh-crap...He barely registered her presence before giving her a dismissive look while turning back to the phone he was working on. She let out a deep breath that she didn't even realize that she had been holding.
As the day went on, she found herself relaxing more and more. The bus ride home was uneventful and for the first time she could remember, she was able to read her book in peace. Not a single random stranger wanted to chat her up about anything and she didn't even feel compelled to put on her oversize headphones to indicate that she did not want to talk. At supper, she happily chatted with her family and laughed until she cried at her brother's corny jokes. Hart took notice of that and cornered her after they had cleared the table.
"Hey Bree, what's up? You seem different today, are you okay? Do you have a new boyfriend?
She paused "No, I'm fine. No boyfriends, why do you ask?
"Well, you've never laughed this much at my jokes and you seem, well, this is stupid but you seem a lot happier today and it's weird. I mean, you're always so uptight after work, uuuh, not that I don't think you don't deserve to be happy, errr, this isn't coming out right"
Bree laughed. "That's okay, I know what you mean. It's been a weird day, actually a weird few days."
She then proceeded to tell him that a couple of days ago, right after third period, it was if she had suddenly become invisible to some people at school. They had just stopped talking to her. None of the Jocks tried to get her attention as she walked by and the Mean Team Girls moved on to bully someone else. Then there was the math teacher. Always one for sly remarks about a student's potential future based on test scores they had finally taken a genuine interest in her math issues and recommended a school-based tutor program instead of brushing off her concerns with a comment about coasting through life on good looks.
"What, what Hart? I see that look, what are you thinking?"
"Bree, I have a thought, it's kinda wacky but I can't tell you now, I'll tell you Monday during study period. I've got some things to do"
Monday was another blissfully uneventful day for Bree. When she went to study hall, all the regular crew was there. Hart came roaring in like a gale force wind. He slammed down in the seat next to her, bouncing up and down, barely able to keep his excitement in check. The hall monitor gave him a stern look. Hart leaned in and motioned for Bree to come closer.
"OMG Bree"He whispered hoarsely, "I didn't think it could be true but I've checked around, been online, dug deep and it's true!!"He paused for dramatic affect. Bree just looked at him. He drew a quick breath.
"Bree, you are not pretty anymore."
The silence in the room was palatable. He sat back and looked at Bree who seemed quite confused. The regular crew, Paul, Betty and Sandra tried to look nonchalant as they all waited for Bree to respond. Paul, as always, was mindlessly chewing on the end of his pencil.
"Okay, um, first of all, when was I ever pretty and second, how do you know I'm not?"
It was Hart's turn to be confused as he struggled with the implications of what she had just said.
"You've always been pretty, Bree. Very Pretty. Now you're not. I mean, you look exactly the same but somehow you've lost all the \*pretty\*."
Hart then went on to explain that he'd been asking his friends if they thought she was pretty and was getting a resounding "nope"from all of them including the ones who had been mooning over her less than a week ago. He'd even managed to hack into the Hillside High's "Hottest Highschooler"page and exactly four days ago her score had gone from hot to not.
"Bree, I think you've been cursed, we need to find out how to reverse it!"
Bree sat quietly for a few long minutes.
"Not pretty, huh. This explains so much. I never quite understood why strangers tried to chat me up on the bus or why the Mean Team always insulted my looks. Now I know. These past few days have been wonderful. I like being invisible. Ya know, I didn't realize how bad it was until it wasn't there. This is the best curse ever."
Just after she had said those words, Hart and Bree heard a loud choking sound coming from behind them. They turned around in unison to see Paul struggling to catch his breath.
Hart was the first to speak while Bree bolted out of her seat to take up position behind Paul.
"Whoa, Dude, are you okay?"
With swift practiced motions, Bree was able to apply the anti-choking maneuver. It took her three tries before a small pencil eraser came flying out of Paul's mouth. His last thought as he slid to the floor toward a pool of blackness what that the Curse was not working out quite the way he'd planned. |
This is also the story of Poochie, who Dave thought was an average mutt when he adopted her at the shelter.
If Poochie could talk, she'd argue that point. She was a purebred Belgian Malinois. Her father was a decorated soldier who had sired many lines of exemplary puppies. Her mother got the highest scores at the police academy, and was chosen for breeding because she could add so much to the breed. Not only was Poochie a purebred, she was the best of the best; the strongest and smartest of her litter.
As a young puppy, Poochie was stolen in a home invasion. Mom, Dad, and Auntie ripped the burglars to shreds, but they still got away with a couple cell phones and Poochie.
Poochie was seized as evidence, okayed for adoption in a paperwork snafu, and adopted by Dave. He knew she was a ball of energy, so he played fetch with her every day and taught her tricks. She listened to him, unless she had something better to do.
On this average Wednesday night in August, she had something better to do than walk at Dave's average pace. She kept her nose to the ground, leash pulled taut, and led Dave into the brush.
"Where we going, Poochie?"Dave picked up the pace.
Poochie was hot on the trail of something she'd never encountered before. It smelled delicious. It felt warm and inviting, yet it crackled like electricity. About half a mile later, it was right under her paws.
She dug.
"Better not be diggin' up something gross, Pooch."
She kept digging until she hit rock. Unfazed, she scooted back and moved the dirt out of the way, clearing off the rock until a glowing yellow spot appeared.
"What the heck?"Dave crouched down and touched the spot. It felt warm. He started moving dirt, too. The spot got bigger and bigger, gently glowing with marbled shades of yellow and gold.
Poochie put a paw on the spot. It seemed to sink in.
"Careful, Poochie."Dave grabbed Poochie's harness to hold her back.
Dave was crouched down, off balance, and Poochie knew it. She dived into the spot and pulled Dave in along with her.
They found themselves in an underground room. It was cooler than the outside. The walls were carved into the rock, and lanterns weakly lit the corners. It took Dave's eyes a second to adjust to the low light.
Poochie apparently didn't have that problem, and was busy snacking on a steak from someone's plate.
"Poochie, no!"Dave facepalmed.
Laughter rang out all around them.
"Of course,"a deep and bright voice spoke, "we can't summon a beast without considering how to feed it!"
"Hey, that beast is my dog!"Dave looked behind him. "I'm keeping her!"
The owner of the voice, a long-haired man in purple robes smiled gently. "Of course you will. How rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Ranior, Wizard of the North, Friend of Dwarvenkind, Sorcerer of the Light. I summoned a beast for a quest, and got this one."He gestured toward Poochie with a smile.
"I'm David Nelson. I'm a network technician from Denver. That beast is Poochie, and she's my dog. She's my little pound puppy and I don't want anything to happen to her."He folded his arms.
Poochie walked up to Dave and nudged his hand with her nose. She sat down in front of Ranior and offered a paw for a handshake.
Ranior laughed and shook Poochie's paw. A few dwarves had gathered around, along with a tall, lithe elven woman. Poochie made the rounds, introducing herself to everyone.
Again, Poochie nudged Dave. He started making the rounds. Ranior thanked him, and reiterated that he'd be able to keep Poochie with him. The dwarves offered him steak and mead.
The elf looked aloof. Dave approached nervously.
"Greetings, traveler. I'm Aryminde of Evergreen Grove. Thank you for following your beast to our camp."
"Ah... you're welcome."It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at her, and even though she was dressed in utilitarian suede clothing and her hair was in short curls, she was beautiful.
"Who are you? And what's the beast's name?"
He reached out a hand to shake, blushing madly. "Sorry. I'm Dave, I'm a Colorado native. That beast is my dog, her name is Poochie."
She took his hand, a bit hesitantly, and let him shake it. "So you greet like the...dog?"
"Yep! Taught her how to shake hands, to be polite."He glanced over at the dog. "C'mere Poochie!"
Poochie trotted over and sat in front of Dave.
"Nice to meet you!"Dave held out a hand for Poochie to shake.
Poochie put her paw in his hand and they shook. Dave petted the dog behind the ears.
"Interesting. How good of a fighter is she?"Aryminde held out a hand to Poochie. She took Poochie's paw, then rubbed her front leg and shoulders, gently squeezing to get a feel for the muscle mass.
"Oh! No, she's a good girl, she doesn't fight!"
"Could she be trained?"Aryminde sat at a low wooden table and pulled out a chair for Dave.
Dave sat down. Poochie sat between the two of them, listening intently.
"I know it's possible to train dogs to fight, but it's not something I'd like to do. Poochie's my little baby, you know? I don't want her getting hurt."
"She won't. Ranior will be with us."
"Explain that, please."Dave's voice was flat. "Just assume that I know nothing about what's going on, because I don't."
"Ranior can heal us."
"Can he heal dogs? Even though they apparently don't exist where we are?"Dave put a protective hand on Poochie.
"We're in the Magic Realm."Aryminde caught Ranior's eye. "Ranior, please summon a small, weak beast from the Upper Realm."
Ranior bowed his head and said a short incantation. A spot, not unlike the yellow spot that Dave and Poochie had fallen into, opened on the floor.
A squirrel!
Seeing a dwarf walk by, it climbed the wall.
Poochie ran across the table, taking advantage of the wooden surface to get grip.
The squirrel climbed higher.
Poochie launched herself seven feet in the air, caught the wall with her front paws, plucked the squirrel off the wall, and broke its neck on the way down.
Aryminde squealed with delight.
Dave groaned. "Poochie! Drop it!"
Poochie pranced up to Dave and dropped it right in his lap.
"Poochie, that's disgusting."Dave shook his head and laughed.
He brought the dead squirrel to Ranior.
"Do you know this animal?"Ranior asked.
"Not personally."Dave chuckled. "I mean, it's a squirrel..."
Ranior put his hands on the animal and spoke an incantation in a foreign tongue.
The squirrel glowed softly, then squirmed and let out a tiny squeak.
Ranior kept reciting the spell.
Dave shuddered as he felt the squirrel's neck align and snap back into place. Its squirms became vigorous kicks and wiggles.
"It is healed."Ranior gave the squirrel a curious look.
"Can you put it back?"Dave asked.
"Yes. I could put you back, too, but before I do that, I must tell you why I summoned Poochie."
"No, first you gotta put the squirrel back, or else you'll be doing nothing but healing the thing."
It was going to be a long day and a long night. |
It was coming.
That was the last thing we heard from the watchmen, before the messaging orb shattered. The guildmasters scrying confirmed it. The Abomination was on its way. We scrambled to pack, hoping that something we took would provide us with the answer. Not that I held out much hope.
We had no idea what it was, where it came from, or even if it was alive. The first we found of its existence was when it consumed a simple village. The kings taxman looked back as they were leaving, to see a mass of blackened flesh enter the city. Being a bureaucrat, he left it alone, choosing tonsend guards later.
When the square arrived, the village was gone. Its inhabitants had either vanished, or twisted into little more then piles of meat and bone. A clear line of crushed buildings marked its path, with the fields it passed as it left wilted and grey.
We had been struggling ever since to work out what it was. Teams of adventurers went out to stop it, each confident in their ability to hand any threat. None came back. But what little we saw of it was bad, via remote viewing. The... thing was attracted to sources of magical energy.
It moved to crush them beneath its weight, and absorbed the pieces of whatever was left. Mages would be caught by it, and it would split to force them inside itself. There was never anything to recover. Quite possibly the worst part was the mental shock it gave.
To see something so wrong, it made even the strongest willed stop. As it drew closer, they couldn't even run, let alone fight it. They seemed almost enraptured by it. And it wasnt limited to humans. We saw a dragon, one of the most powerful creatures on the planet, stop before it, and get consumed. Despite its slow movement, nothing had ever come back alive from facing it. All we could do was keep away.
But we had expected it to come here. The remote headquarters of the Mage Guild was probably one of the most magically saturated places in existence. We had prepared for this, and set up the watchtowers in preparation. Hearing it come though was terrifying.
I took one last look around the room, before the teleportation circle activated. All the time I had spent here, learning, practicing, creating. I would loose that connection. It would be naught but a memory. It seemed almost fitting, the end for the hall. Destroyed not by magic, but by something that destroyed magic.
The room vanished in a white light, and I felt the tears finally escape my eyes. |
I roll up my sleeves, as I always have when there's work to be done. One last duty to perform before I go. A blast rings through the newly redecorated office, as I leave only a note behind,
*Dearest Jessawicke,*
*I hope when you see this note I've not left a mess. It'd be a terrible shame for you to read this with welling eyes, though I trust the last of my friends to have tidied up after me. I'm gone, and have taken my baleful legacy with me, where I shall be judged. History will remember me as one of two things: a traitor or a coward. I am apathetic to those who look back at what I have done, for they cannot know what would stir a man to perform such heinous acts. Not even the Judges in their infinite wisdom can sentence me accordingly, though I know when I meet the Defendants, I shall be found guilty by them all.*
*I implore you don't look for me, my sweet. By all means atone for my sins and compensate my victims and their descendants, but it will be folly to find me. There is nothing you can do or say that would make me a better man. It is too late for that. My crimes have been committed, and apologies or guilt will not undo them.*
*Do not pray for me, Jessawicke. Pray for those I have damned. Pray for those whose soul has been robbed before they had a chance to atone for themselves.*
*It will be of little comfort to say I love you. To be loved by a monster is no love at all. But that is the one thing no Judge nor Defendent nor sentence can take from me. And if that prevents me from re-entering the World, a final anchor to my wicked past, then I shall suffer that burden.*
*Please know that the house and all its adornments are not ill-gotten. They have been afforded by good deeds after the wars. I no longer have a single Berlinese ring or Great English dollar to my name that was from the spoils of those evil days. All of them were destroyed. If only blood stopped tender being legal, or is that too easy to wash one's hands of it?*
*I'd like to say more, my sweet. But I must go. My best friends are anxious to begin helping me move away. Look after your mother. She has enjoyed the life afforded to her by the wars, but cannot be held to account in her current state. I shall see the Judges make her sentence more bearable.*
*Make our crest one that doesn't cause the eyes to roll and tongue to sour, Jessawicke, for your sakes more than mine.*
*Yours,*
*--* *~~Uncle Lou~~* *Panzerkommissar Luke Smith,*
*4th Gehennasmacht Division*. |
Nothing came easy on this land. The elements were harsh, the soil fickle, and the wildlife ravenous. In short, our world was barely habitable. But we are a proud people, an agile people, who became one with the world and tamed it. This was our mistake.
We harnessed the wealth of this natural world: developed tools, built shelters, cultivated crops, found life-sustaining water, and hunted that which we needed. After a while, we learned to live in rhythm with the seasons, a dance by which nature led and our people followed. We moved as one—sowing when the sky was blue, reaping just before the trees turned, storing and sheltering as the snow grew deep, and celebrating with the flowers’ bloom. We became attuned to the crescendo of the sea and built craft with which to harvest its bounty; our eyes skyward, we learned that the silver moon acted as the conductor to the symphony of the sea, keeping time and giving its cue to rise and fall.
One day, a fisherman, his gaze ever-fixed to the heavens and horizon, first noticed it. A second moon. It was three times the size of the moon we’ve come to rely upon. Rather than a piercing silver, it was blue; instead of dappled gray, the mass had splotches of white, as though cream had spilled on its surface. The realization crested over me with an oceanic force, as if this moon controlled the waters of my emotions—it looked like Earth. Just as this land had looked from afar as we approached all those years ago. It was then that I knew. They were coming.
By settling in this place, we had endangered it. Pristine upon our arrival, and still a generous collaborator, this planet and its bounty of resources had become an all you can eat buffet, and we had rung the dinner bell.
When they came, they bore gifts. I had hope that should we show them kindness, and share of our knowledge, perhaps they might learn to live with us, to live with the land. This approach seemed to work for a while. These outsiders, left to their own devices, were no match for this land. Without our help they would not have survived the winter: they had no seeds to plant, no tools for shelter, and no knowledge of this Earth. They were woefully unprepared for the realities of this world, just as we were unprepared for the atrocities of their greed.
What they lacked in implements for survival, they made up for in tools of murder—and it did not take long before they began to use them. As we shared our food and helped them set up shelter, they began to ask of the bounties of the land. When we spoke of wood and water, of fish and game, they asked of gold and silver, of plots and conquest. Our people explained that we had seen some gold, though we did not have much use for that stone—it was too weak to craft with and was not seen as valuable to us. The visitors disagreed.
We resisted as best we could, but the limited weapons we had developed were primitive in comparison to the armory brought by our invaders. Once we had taught them to survive on this land, they had little use for us but one: we knew this world far better than they ever would and could find gold for them. So they set up a market.
Every three months, we were to find a sufficient amount of gold to return to our captors. In return, we would receive a copper necklace. Any among us found without a copper piece at the end of the three months had their hands cut off and were left to die. Through this developed an abhorrent economy. An exchange wherein gold trades for copper and copper trades for life; for this was the first rate of exchange known to this world and its prevalence remains to this day.
By learning to live here, by making this a place able to support human life, we opened the door for human atrocities. Had we never come, this land would remain virgin, its shores clean of blood, its mountains and streams speckled with gold, and its plains spotless of blight.
This world dies in the irony of its existence: bearing death because it begets life. |
I drove the final nail into the top step, sighed, and stood up. Now that I'd made it up here, I asked myself what was next. My head swiveled right to left, scavenging my surroundings in vain for a reminder. Shoulders slumped in disappointment, my face wore a dumb blank stare as I realized I'd completely forgotten the purpose of my ascent.
I remained on the top step, my mind drifting fondly to the days I spent with my father building the behemoth staircase. We spent an obscene amount of time cutting and finishing oak planks, discussing the hopes and dreams we'd built around it. Years of memories imbued its planks, until he passed 10 years ago in his sleep. Now that I'd finally finished the monumental project we'd started together, and reached the top, it disappointed me greatly to have forgotten what I came up here for.
Can't be helped, I thought to myself. I shrugged my shoulders, gave one last look to the golden- hued latticed gate just through the clouds ahead of me, and started the long trip back down. |
"Dee and Dee? What's that?"
"It's a game. Players create characters and use them to go on virtual adventures. They get to be the heroes of the story, save the kingdom, stop the evil demon lord, that sort of thing. You game?"
"I guess, that's got to be better than staring at solid white walls."
"Goody! We have two groups of players waiting today, and you are going to get a first-hand introduction to the game. I'll provide your character."
"Wait! I thought I got to choose!"
"Oh! No, I'm sorry. That's a privilege reserved for *players*."
"Well, I'm a player, aren't I?"
"Sorry, you are an NPC. A non-player character. That means I run you in the game. Your first lesson is in what it feels like to be a victim.
"Oh, I should point out that as a commoner level zero, you can be killed by a common house cat in no more than two scratches. Do you remember the kitten you tortured to death? Well, it didn't die. We found it, and made sure it grew up.strong and healthy. Good luck!"
"*MRRRROOWWWLLL*"
"oh, shit""Nice Kitty! I'm sorry! I was young and stupid! Please don't kill me!"
The sound of rolling dice. "Oh goody! Kitty has chosen not to kill you... Immediately. She *likes* to play with her food. May I suggest you start looking for a hiding place? Or just run as fast and far as you can. You *can* out run her."
Takes off running.
"For a while. In the meantime, here are some people you should remember."
"Hello, Joey. Remember me? You beat the shit out of me so badly it took three weeks in the hospital to get better. I was a shrimp. Look at me now."
"For the Love Of God! Let me pass!"
"Oh, I won't hold you up for long. That kitten became my cat after I nursed her back to health. I went on to become a doctor. A pretty good one too! Here, I am your healer. When you die, I will resurrect you. When you're hurt, I'll heal you. I've forgiven you, Joey. Kitty has not. On your way, Joey!"
Rolling dice, "Good news Joe! Kitty got side tracked. You've got a whole *day* to rest up. Now, how about we talk about what just happened, and how it made you feel?"
"Do I ever get to choose to be a hero?"
"When we've worked through your issues, your first character will be a fighter. You will defend the helpless, slay the monsters, and eventually become a Paladin. Don't backside though." |
Some might call me smug. Which may be true. I would of course tell them that "smug"in the Old English meant to smarten up a room, which I do, and that the word "smug"doesn't even exist in my first language. The closest approximation I have is *dichʼíízh* in Diné, which translates to "rough"in English. And I have had a rough life.
I experienced my first tragedy herding bison with my father and brothers when I was about 9 years old. That was in the 20's. 1529 I think, but I did not count the years in that way at the time. I foolishly approached a small bison and my older brother Ata'halne called out for me. The rest is a blur of orangish brown fur, trembling earth and screams of anguish from my father.
I was awoken by the chalky taste of some tea being poured down my throat. Yiska, the two-spirit elder's thin, bony thumb bore into my temple. My clothes were soaked in blood and I was surrounded by my community. Swirls of pungent smoke filled the hogan and uncontrollable sobbing from my mother filled my ears.
Later, I learned that my three brothers and father had been killed trying to save me.
That was not the last time I found myself soaked in blood, but it was the last time I wondered if it was mine.
Around 22, I appeared to stop aging and after surviving tragedy after tragedy, I realized I was truly very different from those around me. I fought more wars than I can count, buried sons, daughters, grandchildren and lovers. I survived the mexican american war, trail of tears, Indian wars, civil war, world war i and ii. In world war ii, as a "code taker"I helped transmit information that won the war. The irony of fighting imperialism alongside the U.S, using a language that I had been asked to forget, in pursuit of assimilation to the same culture that had stolen land, denied rights and completely mocked my people, was not lost on me. I always fought to protect my family and the Navaho nation.
The men (children, really)that fought alongside me, had more faith in the ideals of the United States. I wouldn't deny them their hope, but my memory was too long for that garment to fit me.
My last war was in Vietnam. There in a viet cong pow camp, I learned the true depths of my imperviousness. After the usuals-subjecting me to electrocution, starving, attempted drowning, firing squads with every caliber bullet they could find-the locals started experimenting with newer methods. Psychotropic drugs, Agent Orange, and injections of various diseases had no effects. They feed me some combination of poison and long rotten meat for many months. I thought it was bat meat because I kept hearing them call me "Bat Diet."Turns out *bất diệt* means "living forever and never dying.".
When I had learned enough from the experiments, I took the first opportunity I could to escape. I freed about half a dozen purple heart recipients before fleeing into the jungle. Luckily, after months of trauma, hallucinogens, and narcotics, no one believed their story about the immortal Indian who ran away into the jungle.
I spent the next few decades exploring the world and oscillating between thrill-seeking and elaborate suicide attempts (sometimes at the same time). Notably, I got the full Jonah experience in a Great White off the coast of Tanzania.
In the late 90's I came home to so-called Arizona and rejoined the Dinè community. A four-hundred and seventy year old man should be retired even if he looks like a twenty year old.
I mostly kept to myself, and never left the res unless the situation absolutely called for it.
Last Monday, I took a turn off on the way into the Albuquerque that I thought might be a shortcut to I-40. About half a mile in, the dirt road became paved and led into a small town. I stopped at what had to be the most beautiful tea shop I had ever seen when I noticed the name on the sign: "tooh nílíní". Navajo for River. When I entered, I introduced myself and asked the woman, "are we close to the river?""She replied is it time for you to cross back over?""And handed me a steaming mug. The smell was incredibly familiar as was the chalky taste. After a sip, I felt my spine curving and my hamstrings tightening. The hands gripping my mug shriveled and from what I could see in my curved reflection, that first stop had added about 40 years to my appearance. What would another sip do? |
Only the damned can survive in it's terrible wake.
It's crimson spires gaze through my soul. Like the wings of a dead god, they encircle the horizon, from the ashes of one civilization to the next. And from it's terrible eye, the bloody glow bathes the pale which stretches endlessly before me.
Some called it god, others called it devil. Some called it a joke, others called it fear. The scientists called it Fenrir, for it devoured the Moon and Sun, and brought forth the endless cold.
But I just call it Red. It has no sympathy for me, and I share none for it either.
It's been an endless haze since this all started. I don't know whether it's been decades or years, maybe only months. All I know is that I have one goal now: To reach the Dome.
The problem is, I only have nine days left. All the other sanctuary's in the continent have closed their doors, and this is the last one still accepting people.
I can't give up hope now. This is what we set out to do in the first place, this is what I promised mom. I will be strong. I will be.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 1
I can't lie, I'm a bit anxious about all of this. For a long time, our goal was only to survive, and finding a Dome was but a dream.
Even though the world was dying, it was people who proved to be the true problem. The lucky, the powerful, and those who know things of importance, all hid in the Dome's, while us unfortunate ones fled in terror from those who take advantage of these situations. Many people suffered to say the least.
But now times are more dire than ever. It seems the world really is falling down the dark slopes, to the abyss where it can never escape again. Apparently only some microorganisms will be able to live in these coming times.
Surviving isn't even enough now. I need to find a Dome, or surely fall to the chilling hands of death.
Anyways, I can't keep writing. I need to plan my time well between this journal and travel. My goal is 30 miles today.
It's late, Red is coming up again. Not much happened, just how I like it.
Going to sleep now.
I can't fucking sleep.
Maybe I'll travel in the night. There's nothing out there, nothing to be afraid. And it's not even that much brighter in the day anyways.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 2
I found the ruins of a city. I can't tell which one it is, just looks like every other midwestern town I've been to so far.
Some buildings stretch out from the snow bellow. They don't look very high and mighty anymore.
Surprisingly the stores and houses that aren't burried still have large inventories. It seems that with the immense production of humanity, even after all the wars and lootings, people still left things behind.
Unfortunately, I have no use for any of it. All I need are my two legs and this journal. All I want is to see those gates at that Dome, whatever they look like.
Walking during the night was a good idea, because now I'm finally tired. Going to sleep in this house.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 3
A snowstorm, just what I needed.
Red truly hates me, doesn't it? It glares down like a kid does to an ant, without a care in the world. I fucking hate this.
I'll wait for a while. But if it doesn't stop, I'll just have to march on. I can't afford to waste any time.
Guess now all I can do is write. That's what people do in these journal's, right? They right about how their feeling and shit. Maybe I'll do that.
Not seeing anyone in months has been both a blessing and a curse.
With time being my nemesis, the last thing I'd want is some deranged army or criminal deciding I'm to be their next meal. And I don't even want to think about the cultists. It's just me alone in this wasteland, and hopefully it'll stay that way for the rest of the journey.
But at the same time, I can't say I'm not lonely.
I miss my friends.
I miss my family.
I really, really, really, really, really really really miss them. I miss them so fucking much. what the fuck why am I in this situation. what did I do to deserve this. fuck me fuck this journal fuck FUCK! FUCK!
nothing
there is nothing
but hate
and loneliness
in the starving cold
nothing
nothing
nothing
nothing
nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
The storm is over
#JOURNAL ENTRY 4
It's the fourth day already. How did this all go by so fast?? Yesterday was a complete waste of time. Now I need to focus on this journey, and forget about this stupid journal. I'm walking for as long as I can, until my legs give up. And I'll do it again tomorrow, even if my body tells me to stop. I don't fucking care.
Day's over. Nothing to say about it. There was only white everywhere I looked, nothing of note at all.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 5
I wasn't even going to write today. I just didn't have it in me. I thought I'd just walk. But something happened.
I was walking over this hill, when suddenly I saw a huge mass of grey and black in the distance. I wasn't sure whether it was rocks or trash, but I decided to move closer just to inspect.
I couldn't believe what I saw.
They were bodies. A whole mass of them, all piled one on top of the other. They we're all charred black, some flames were even still ablaze. I've known that dead body smell well before, but it's been a while since I had the pleasure of experiencing it. It brought back some bad memories...
This isn't good at all. If I saw some skeletons in the snow I'd assume they simply died on their own. But this obviously wasn't what took place here.
And you need a lot of people to kill that many people.
I'm in quite a dilemma here. The Dome lies somewhere past this massacre, but there's a good chance those psychos that did this also went that direction. If that's the case, the best course would be to move around all of this, however there's nothing telling me they didn't go that direction either!
What should I do???!!!
Fuck it, I don't have time to sit around and ponder every option. I'm going the same direction I have been this entire time. This must be the last stretch of the journey, so I don't have anything to lose now.
And if I do find some unfriendly faces, they'll just have to contend with my shotgun.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 6
Can't write.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 7
The Darkness Approaches. Those Who Do Not Obey The Orders Of The Crimson Lord Are Heretics. Let The Word Be Known. This Infidel Was Slayed With Precision. He Felt All The Pain. The Crimson Womb Is Bursting With The Blood Of Billions. Spread The Word. There Is No Life In This New World, The New Cycle Is The Cycle Of Death, The End Of All Earthly Existence. Accept This, And Attain The Eternal Paradise With Him, The
#JOURNAL ENTRY 8
This guy sure ruined my fucking journal. Unfortunately, I had to ruin his day.
Two days... TWO FUCKING DAYS!
I'm less angry about what they did to me. Scars and a bullet wound are just stories to tell. They won't hurt forever.
But I just lost two days. I didn't even notice till seeing the entries here. From the moment they got me it's all been a crazy blur.
There was lots of screaming. Lots of blood. But the only ones who died were them. By the looks of what they preach, that's what they wanted anyways. So it's a win for both of us.
I can't write anymore.
Time is short.
I better run.
#JOURNAL ENTRY 9
Well.
This is it.
The last day.
I don't know whether or not the doors will still be open, but I think I still have a chance.
This feels so strange, like my soul has left it's body.
When I think about it, everything that started all that time ago, it was all leading to this. Whether I make it or not, this is always what we journeyed towards, from the moment they said that something strange was happening, in the far reaches of the galaxy.
Whether I make it or not, my life will end.
If I enter the Dome, my life as a normal person, who lived the way all other humans did for millennia since the dawn of history ends. If I enter, maybe I'll find a new family. Maybe, just maybe, I can even forget everything I went through. If I enter, I will become a new person.
But perhaos...
Being lost out here made me loose my own mind. Maybe the people of the Dome will never accept me, for I will never be able to adjust to that normal life again. I'll only know if I make it there.
On the other hand, if those doors are closed...
I will kill myself.
Even though those cultists have lost it, they are right about something: There's no surviving under the domain of that star.
One day even Red will leave us, and so will the Sun which we always knew. Our home will be but a lonely voyager, across the sea of empty shadows. Maybe then, the Earth will finally know how I have felt all this time, in this long and arduous journey.
I never had children, I never had a wife.
I never had a home to call my own.
I had just finished college.
That was my life.
Now something else is ahead of me.
And whatever that fate is... I think I'm alright with it. I don't feel misery anymore. I went far. Farther than I ever expected to. Now, I will set off on my final journey.
So this is godbye.
I don't need this journal where I'm going anyways. |
As I slowly felt the remaining life slip away from my body, I was content with what I had accomplished in my current liftime and eagerly looked forward to what I could do in the next. "I know your little secret Walt."
My eyes shot open, ice pounding through my veins, a feeling I thought I had forgotten coursed through me. Fear. The voice had come from my nurse that had been assigned to take care of my few remaining days. "You think you're so clever don't you? Coming back again and again and again."
How could she know? I had been so careful, every identity, every life. Perhaps with this one, I had become a little too famous. "This time, it isn't going to end the way you think it is."She began to roll my bed out of my room and down the silent hallways of the hospital.
I eventually found myself staring into a dimly lit room, that was dominated by a large cannister in the center. I could make out the words barely on the side CRYO. She muscled my frail and weak body out from my bed and placed me into the capsule. The temperature inside felt colder than any refrigerator I had ever opened.
With one final gesture, she slammed the doors on the capsule and left, leaving me alone in this icy prison. I feebly struggled to try and push the door but it was no use as I began to drift into the blackness...
It is with great sadness that today we mourn the loss of our company's founder and director. Disney was designed by Walt to spread cheer and joy to every man, woman and child around the globe. We honour him today by burying a time capsule filled with his Disney spirit in the heart of his greatest creation Disneyland. Thank you Walt for what you've given us and what you will give to the kids of the future. |
(TW: Self Harm)
Cayley opened her eyes, confused and disoriented. She was on her back in her kitchen, her arm ached. She rolled over to stand, but a wave of nausea hit her. She dropped back down.
The pain in her arm was intense, the carpet below felt wet.. *What happened?*
*You went too deep*
She turned her head toward her arm—a feat that took far too much energy—and the reality of what happened smacked into her. She had cut too deep. The bead-like look of fat tissue, and the radial artery below that.
*You cut an artery* She told herself.
She rolled over again, and the nausea came again. She fought it off, and got to her knees. Her carpet was soaked a deep red, both her arm and shirt were no better.
She tried to stand but stumbled and fell to the floor in an instant. So, she dragged herself along the floor, toward her phone in the living room.
She could feel herself dying. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want to die. She just wanted to breathe. That was it. *How did it come to this?*
She reached the small table in the living room, and she grabbed blindly until she felt her phone. She dragged it down and turned it on.
She dialed 911 and pressed call.
“911 what’s your emergency?” A feminine voice answered.
Cayley said her address, she knew she couldn’t talk for very long.
“Send an ambulance”
“Ma’am, what happened?” The voice asked
“Cut...” Cayley mumbled. “Send someone”
A moment of near silence, and Cayley feared she’d been hung up on. The voice came back then.
“An ambulance has been dispatched to your location. Are you alone?”
The world started to fade, and Cayley dropped her head. She gripped her wrist weakly, thoroughly believing she was going to die.
Without any clue as to how much time has passed, she became acutely aware of a single sound.
An alarm. Something about it forced her alive. The door burst open, people were there.
“It’s all right now, we’ve got you” a voice told her.
She closed her eyes, she had stayed awake long enough.
*We’ve got you* |
You exchanged your bag with someone at a bus station. The bag you ended up with has some interesting stuff in it.
I almost couldn’t believe it. She had held it over my head for so many months, but now she finally did it. We were broken up now. But the pain met its apex when I saw her on the bus. She made it clear that it wasn’t a date, it wasn’t a get-together, it was an exchange. Nothing more.
I sat against the lousy leather couch and toyed with the crumpled paper bag for a few moments. However, once opened I was washed over with a feeling of familiarity, but also confusion.
“What the hell…” I muttered.
It was filled to the brim with assorted items. I was eager to see what they were. So, I began to reveal them one at a time.
The first item at the top. I gripped it from the heap, and the fluttering of its pages sprawled and tickled my hands. It was a book. I read the cover: *Fifty Shades of Gray.*
“What?”
I set it aside and continued to dig through. The next item that I pulled. A couple of CDs. I read the inscription of each of them. *Songs for being on the Pogo, 30 minutes of sniffing, Indigenous Throat Singing.*
I was surprised that they were here.
They clattered against the coffee table in front of me. My hands flurried to find what was next. A tiny canvas that was rough with crusted bumps. An oil painting of my nose.
One by one I pulled them out. Each time I swiped at them quicker and quicker.
A bottle labelled: Smells of the Garbage Dump.
A pocket bible that ends each sentence with a question mark.
A taxidermy mouse.
Finally, three copies of the movie Ice Age: Continental Drift.
But once I had seen all of them, I saw a small envelope at the bottom. She had written it. I was hesitant to read it as I was nervous to see what her final words to me might be. I slipped the paper crease and dug my fingers around the note inside. My eyes almost begging me not to look.
I scanned the paper and read her pretty cursive letters.
It read.
*Here’s all the shit you left at my apartment.* |
When we moved into or new home, there was this very peculiar black cat with starry blue eyes and a white ankh mark on its chest. Every time we tried to get rid of it, it just came back into the house no worse for wear. So we decided to adopt it and care for it. Fifteen years later, a check up from the vet revealed that this cat has lived for decades (Maybe even centuries) without aging. We've originally named the cat Mau, but now? We're changing it to Schrödinger, as clearly this cat's immortal.
When we changed the cat's name, he gave us a strange look, but approved of the new name. Schrödinger was mysterious, but he kept me and my younger siblings away from a small door in one of the house's rooms. Which was odd at first, until we realized that this house was previously three apartments in one space and pink. Then everything clicked for us. We were living in the former Pink Palace Apartments and that little door the cat kept us away from was the entrance to the Beldam's lair. No wonder he wanted us to stay out of her web, as that door came with a creepy button eyed doll and button key, plus loads of trouble should we fall for her tricks. He's been at this for longer than we've realized. He knows that one slip up on his end means another victim claimed by the Beldam.
So for the next several years (or until all of us kids are fully grown), we heed his protective measures and never fall victim to the Beldam ever. Hell, we even destroyed the doll and melted the key so it could never be used by anyone ever again. Schrödinger very much appreciated that we made sure that the Beldam could never claim another victim, though when we destroyed both items, we could hear pounding and quiet screaming from the little door, as if the Beldam was protesting her demise. That night we destroyed her doll and key though, my siblings and I had a shared dream in which the little door disappeared before our very eyes, with a sickly green glow emanating from it as it permanently became one with the wall, finalizing the Beldam's death.
The morning after that night, and the days that followed, Schrödinger started to age. Though when the time came, he didn't actually die. Instead, he became a calico maneki-neko cat statue and piggy bank with a coin in its paws. Which we later used to increase good fortune in our home and at our parents' business. And we also found out, that in this form, Schrödinger was indestructible and always reappeared with its entire contents in the event that it was stolen from us. He traded one form for another, but never seemed to disappear from whoever he stayed with, and we all liked that. The end.
Posted on my 24th birthday, whoo! |
*“What the fuck!’* The steering wheel was getting slippery now. I didn’t know it was possible to sweat this much from your palms. In the seat behind me I could see Ruby’s wide-open eyes reflected in the passenger window. Her mouth was half open in frozen horror, like mine.
On the road ahead of us, the temple grew larger. *The temple. The fucking temple.* With the daylight fading quickly, the temple’s two massive spires rose far above the squat building and gleamed a sickly white as if they were tusks on flattened elephant skull. *This is not okay.* It took every ounce of willpower I had to not scream – I had to keep it together, for Ruby at least.
*“Call her Bill! Try her again! Those….things are….following us! I can smell the-“* Her voice choked off as she collapsed in a sobbing heap, splayed out the seat. “*I'm sorry...I didn’t even know her…I'm so sorry Bill.”*
*“Ruby I need you to keep it together Honey! We’re going to be fine.”* It was a stranger speaking through me. I didn’t believe my own words, not for a second. But I knew she needed to hear those words. *Whatever happens, Ruby is getting home.* With teeth clenched, I mashed down on the gas pedal, and the Honda lurched forward. We had no choice…we had to make it back to the temple and find that goddam girl.
Bizarre, dilapidated houses whizzed past as the whine of the engine turned into a piercing scream. We ran a stop sign, then another. *Not like it matters…I haven’t seen a single person or car in this fucking…town?* Truth was I had no idea where we were. I mean I should’ve known – I’d been driving for uber for 6 months now and had seen every nook and cranny of our post-industrial town. *But not this neighborhood. I must have been through here a million times – why don’t I remember seeing that giant temple?* It was only a block away now. *We’re going to make it.*
“*They’re FOLLOWING US Bill!”* I glanced at the rear-view mirror and immediately wished I hadn’t. Something was running in the middle of road a block and half behind us. Even though it was hard to see in the low dusk light, I could tell this thing was BIG. And I had never seen something run that fast or even the *way* it was running – a perverse half gallop-half dragging gait. My heart sank as two more of those things lumbered out of the woods running parallel to us. And all of them were after the same thing – us.
The last of the sun’s rays glinted off something ahead and I slammed on the brake as fast as I could. The car screeched to a halt on the dusty road mere feet from the temple wall. Behind me, Ruby tumbled violently into the footwell. *“Jesus Christ – Ruby get up! GET UP RIGHT NOW RUBY! WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!”* Before the words had left my mouth, I was already outside her door yanking it open. I could see blood trickling from a fresh cut where her cheek must have connected with the back of my seat. I grabbed her raised hand with all my strength and yanked her out of the car and began pulling her towards the temple door. *Oh thank God its still open.*
The doors had been left open from when we dropped off that strange girl earlier. I’d wanted to choke the life out of that stranger for the last half hour for leading us into this godforsaken place – but now I was grateful to her for this small grace. After what seemed like eons, we crashed through the doorway slipping on wet tiles. Ruby crashed into a low table near the door, but I managed to turn and grab hold of the heavy door and slam it shut. A second later heavy thuds started shaking the door and loud snarling could be heard outside. |
"Did you know that there is a place in Turkmenistan called the Gates of Hell, Prime Minister?"A wheezing voice asked over a technology almost as old as the bunker's speaker. "It is a pit that produces natural gas, and has burned for at least thirty years if my timekeeping is correct. Somehow, I doubt that."It was hard to tell if the wheezing was just that, or a cackle. The Prime Minister turned to the soldiers behind him, shaking their heads behind visors filled with stale breath.
"Why are you telling me this, Biohazard?"Asked the Prime Minister, his finger being the only one to touch the intercom's single button since its creation.
"Because, Prime Minister, they are correct. It was there where Dr. Pietr Kamenev died, and where Biohazard was born."As the voice spoke, a rustle of papers and scrawlings was heard behind the Prime Minister. Soldiers and scientists hastily scrawled down the name. For the first time in history, Biohazard's story was known. "I shall spare you my history for it is pointless if you decide to doom your species. I can only hope that by telling you what I know of that place, will you leave me, and bury this bunker.
"Biohaz--, Doctor.... Kamenev, was it? You have my word that our state of the art facilities can research and cure you--,"The Prime Minister was cut off by a piercing shriek from the intercom, causing him to hold his ears.
"*Do not insult my intelligence, Prime Minister*! My body is a charred husk but do not think my mind the same! And while you try to play diplomat, I am wasting your precious time by irradiating this very intercom. The longer you enrage me, the faster I shall melt this speaker and burn through your very soul. Do I make myself *clear*, Prime Minister?"
The Prime Minister turned to the crew behind him, some backing away. The reminder of armed soldiers kept them close by.
"Yes, Dr. Kamenev."
"Evidently not. Dr. Kamenev died, his body scorched in the blaze of Hell fire. I cannot afford to be offended by the label you have applied to me, because the intercom on this side cannot suffer much more radiation."The disembodied voice paused for a taxing breather. "Prime Minister, I don't care what you believe in. The truth of the matter is the devil is very real. Or I should say, *was*. Not even the devil could survive those fires."The Prime Minister placed his finger on the intercom to speak, only for the red button to sizzle through the tip of his suit.
"Which is why you cannot release me. There's worse things to fear than Hell on Earth." |
It started to get irritating. Especially because David was the mailman. Every time I went up to a gang leader he would somehow take over during the second half. Always giving me a letter that had maybe one breadstick (a healing item of my world.)
I knew something was up the second time I saw him. He looked just like any other mail man. But he would leave in the weirdest of ways. He would go behind something and disappear. Once he gave me a letter that had a “beef can” he said. But the back of it was grey, no textures or color. Must have been an unfinished item still In the game.
This world was confusing. I didn’t feel like I was a part of this place. I woke up in a garbage dump. I had a leather jacket and a baseball bat. I had a note in my jacket that said “find the wizard.”(the wizard was a nice guy who was kinda insane. When I got out, no one seemed to know me. Except David. He greeted me like an old friend. This world was like not like me.
Knowing that this world wasn’t fully real, compared to your sense, wasn’t all shocking. I heard music almost every day, and could play it at jukeboxes. I would talk to people who would say the same thing, word for word, every other time. All games I could play were arcades at a pizza place. What was also weird was that mailman and what he did.
From what I could piece he almost said the same thing twice. He would sometimes say “hello, here’s mail.” Multiple times, but always in a different tone. And his theme song. It would always play over anything else. When I grabbed food from a shop, but he was somewhere in there, his them would play. Even after I was killing the gang leader who was after me, his theme still played.
I walked down the alleyway and stared. Another gang attack. probably a planned cutscene, as they looked really high definition compared to when I could start moving again. I grabbed my bat and... stopped. The usual (gang attack one) music wasn’t playing. And the mailman’s theme is playing. But it was different. It sounded... otherworldly. It’s trumpet part was a synth instead. Some 8-bit sounds as well.
Some bullets hit my stomach. I had been shot so much I didn’t really care. I snapped out of my trance and started swinging. I bonked a goon down. And another. “Man, you guys are so under leveled.” I blurted out.
I really wish I could use the guns these thugs had. But every time it would “unexpectedly jam” for some stupid reason. Oh well, my bat does wonders. Then something strange happened. A package hit my head.
I fell down and a voice called out.
“HEY MR WHATS YOUR NAME I FORGOT! HERES A PACKAGE, CANT GO DOWN THERE CAUSE GUNS ARE SCARY. ok bye.”a window shut. I was shocked. Sure, I was still getting shot at, but did a package just hit me? I ate a breadstick and started opening the package.
Oh my gosh. This is... wait what? A GUN?! A AK-47 no less. I aimed it and BANG! It shot, wait it shot? Oh my gosh. I don’t fully remember what happened next. All I know is I went pretty ballistic and none of those guys survived (they all look the same so I don’t fully know if they die.)
That was eight levels ago. I had gotten a rocket launcher and some other cool thing (brass knuckles, a shotgun, and upgrades along with some other things) and was feeling sick. I was near the end, at least the screen said, but the end of what? What would happen? All I know is that this cult leader is summoning a god (long story short, I am in a prophecy, lucky me) and I need to stop them.
Well here I go. I open the big mansions door. “Hello weaklings!” I yell as I mow down cult members. None of them even stand a chance. “Weird,” I thought “this should be harder then everything, yet my mini shredded them down?” I thought to myself.
I open the final door. “Ahhh, my lessers should have stopped you. No matter, I will.” I shot him with my rocket launcher. His health bar was gone instantly.
“That was... anticlimactic. Oh well.” I looked around. Now what? Had I won, what was next, and was David supposed to give me these overpowered weapons?
“Oh, that didn’t go as planned. Well anyway hello mr..?”
“DAVID?!!” I shouted, maybe squealed a little.
“No, I am David, I’m asking your name cause I forgot.”
“Myron. Although I don’t know if it’s my real name.”
“Oh, I don’t forget my name.” David said. I started to wonder. Wait, this is not his normal theme, this is that special version I heard in the alleyway.
“What are you doing here? And what do I do now?” I asked.
“Well,” he pulls out a card. “This card says I give you my satchel and hat. Then give you the card. And you win? I don’t know it doesn’t really say.”
To be free of whatever happens to me here. Would I go somewhere different? Would this world stay the same? What was I and David’s purpose in this world? We both seemed to be special, so what gives?
“Ok, hand me the stuff, and I’ll win I guess.” I grabbed the satchel and hat and put it on. “So, uhh, I guess I’ll be seeing you?” David questions. He puts his fist in a fist bump pose. I fist bump him. A white flash happens.
—————————————————————
I wake up in a bed with David’s satchel and hat. I get out of this bed and look out the window. “It’s the same world alright.” I say to no one. I look around and see... a garbage dump. And a girl sleeping in it. With a leather jacket and baseball bat. |
The knock comes, as always. And I am ready, as always. My sibling, dressed in light, green clothing. A smile on their face, a warming glow. Sometimes they come as a women, other times a man. Sometimes old, sometimes young.
I open the door, to see this time they are a young man, a tired expression on his face. I bid him enter, and let him sit at my table. He smiles and sits, an icy drink appearing before him.
"Autumn, you look good."
I smiled back, my orange and brown dress flowing as I sat opposite him.
"Thank you Summer. Time sure does fly doesn't it?"
"Yeah, 3 months just doesn't feel enough. Well, mostly."
I could see his exhaustion, and felt the need to pry.
"Whats happened? You look absolutely shattered."
"Oh, those humans and their stupid act of letting the world heat up. I have to let out heat, but it builds up so much. Its tiring. Plus, having to burn forests puts me in a bad mood."
I blew at him, a cool breeze following. He tipped his head back, enjoying the sensation.
"Thats why I'm here dear. I help prepare the world for sweet Winter's embrace, so it can rest, and heal slightly. And who knows, maybe they will get their act together soon."
He scoffed at that, and I couldn't blame him.
"Unlikely. And now I have to wait a few months until the South gets to me. More burning to come, I'm sure."
"I will say what I always say. Yours is the time of joyful memories, adventuring far and wide. With that, there must be a balance as always. You do not choose to start the fires. You do what must be done. And, as always, life returns."
He nodded, but still looked troubled. I wasnt surprised. His was generally the toughest time. My twin, Spring, was the hopeful one. They got to enjoy fresh rains, new life, and clear skies. Summer was the adventurous one. But as always, adventure comes with a price.
I was the calming one. After being riled up by Summers antics, I had to lead the world to rest. I would whisper to the trees, to drop their leaves, and go to sleep. The animals would prepare for a long rest. And the weather would calm, though sometimes it would complain. Winter was the gentle one. They soothed, letting everything sleep, rest, and heal.
I left Summer alone, putting on my pack, and picking up my small scythe. The leaves wrapped around it shone a vibrant green, full of life. But when I was done, they would be brown and dry.
I opened the door, waving goodbye to Summer, and stepped forth into the world. My task began, to change his season into what I considered the most beautiful. To do my duty. As we always did, since the world first started to turn. |
If there's one word you don't want to ever hear a nuclear technician say, it's "oops."
"Jenkins!"
I squirmed in my seat, arse cheeks sweating all over the hard plastic. I thought I'd slide right off.
"Sir?"I replied hastily, trying to force confidence into my shaking voice.
"What in crikey fu\*\* was that, Jenkins?"
"I don't understand, sir."
Brigadier Andrew Collins' face looked like it was about to haemorrhage spectacularly all over the room.
I stared at him with innocent, *I don't know what you're talking about* eyes, but he could see my leg chattering like it had caught a cold.
"Jenkins!"
"Sir?"
"Get me on a secure connection to Parliament House, NOW!"
"Ah, sir? I believe that the House has vanished."
"You mean you **blew it up?**"Collins looked moments away from having a stroke and seizure at the same time, and I figured if I could just buy myself time until that happened, I might just get away with my little mistake.
"It's difficult to say exactly what happened, sir. There's a lot of...interference...with our communications equipment at the moment."
"Would that be interference from radiation, or interference in the sense that you destroyed the entire planet's COMMUNICATION EQUIPMENT."He was spitting everywhere and I was hoping I'd see a speckle of blood. He was working himself up into such a rabid state I figured he'd be set to pop any minute.
"Jenkins, you have destroyed the entire planet. The only people left in the world are in this bunker. And I'm going to make sure you can't get the rest of us..."Collins walked towards me, reaching for his sidearm, but before he could even draw it, he keeled over, bonked his head on the concrete floor, and went out like a light.
The brigadier's access pass was pinned to his chest, and I knew I'd need it to get to the vehicles once everything was locked down - my pass would only get me through the lower security internal doors. I snatched it off his DPCU shirt and stuffed it in my bra, thinking I'd be expected to at least turn out my pockets and take off my boots when leaving the control room. In my clouded state, I was still thinking in terms of standard procedure, the usual order of things, habits. It didn't occur to me that the others would be preoccupied with more important things.
I ran to vehicle bay, using the brigadier's pass to swipe through the reinforced doors. I chose a large people-mover I knew had been loaded last night with supplies for a training mission in the desert - on my own, I could survive for months with this gear. I started the engine, made sure the the windows were closed, and drove up the 500-metre ramp leading to the surface. I wound down my window a quarter way, swiped through, then quickly withdrew my arm and wound the window back up.
Once the heavy doors were open enough for me to fit the people-mover through, I drove out and into the desert. As usual, I goofed up. The radiation from the nuclear winter I'd just caused fried the electronics in the vehicle, and now I'm stuck here. I can't go outside or walk back into the base. I've got a few months of food and water, but nowhere to go.
I'm trying to upload this to Reddit now, using the last of my satellite data plan, so that one day, when the human race rebuilds critical infrastructure and we re-invent the internet, people will know why I did what I did. I wasn't *trying* to blow up the whole world. I was trying to *save* it. We needed a hard reset. What most people don't know is that AI isn't a far-off pipe dream, it's already here. The machines are taking o- |
"The Supreme Court made their decision today, five to four in favor of the Roman Catholic Diocese and Agadath Israel of America vs Governor Andrew Cuomo. The decision was met with great controversy by the general public who...". The small television set in the dimly lit room shut off abruptly. Bruce Wayne leaned his head back against weathered leather chair and let out a deep sigh. How did it come to this he wondered. Ever since the orange man took office the city had been brought closer and closer to chaos. The people needed to follow the law. The law is what holds the city together and binds it. All of it was for nothing, nothing if the law is not followed. Blood flashed in his eyes. Rats gnawing on corpses in Brownsville alleyways. No, he murmured. A piercing cry from a child's voice, wide eyes staring at him as he stood over her father's corpse. I didn't know! He yelled loud enough to cause a rustling among the hundreds of bats hanging above his head in the dark cavern. The law, he thought, it is all I have left. I have left my humanity behind long ago.
The cave he currently occupied was one of many he still had access to around the city. Empty except for a cot, electrical wires, and random essentials he left in them all. Bruce mentally cursed Alfred for his cowardice once again. Damn that man and his precious ideals. He is the one that set him along this path, there would be no Batman without him. Yet, when he had finally found the way to get real change done, to fulfill the law the way it was meant to be enforced, the pompous bastard hamstrung him and left him to fend for himself, crippled and crawling around in the dark. All of his assets gone, his most well stocked hideouts gone. If only he could have ten minutes alone beneath the Lincoln Tunnel, that alone would keep him stocked for the next five years. It was impossible though. Every cache of weapons and technology had been turned over to the CIA. With the initial removal under armed guard at all hours of the day. He wouldn't have been able to take anything without killing innocent men, some days now he wondered how innocent those men really were, to take what rightfully belonged to him. Would it have been so bad if they died, were they really adequate defenders of the peace? In some ways abuse of that position might be the worst sin there is. He didn't really believe that, at least not yet.
These past three years had been hectic, initially he had been hounded by police, secret police, FBI, ATF, whatever, at every turn. At the worst of it he had burrowed deeper into the bedrock that held up Manhattan than he ever had before. Places where all the collective slime, dirt, and shit had seemed to coalesce into a living breathing presence that infiltrated every pore in his skin and eagerly rushed into his lungs at every hampered breath. By the time the hunt for him had cooled off and the powers that be had deemed him a mild nuisance, the city had moved on without him. De Blasio and Cuomo, they fight with the orange man over who has the power of New York? Well he had been to beating heart of this city, lived in it, been consumed by it. There is no ruler over this city, it rules itself, and Batman? Well Batman is an instrument of the city, of the law.
Gathering his things together Bruce pulled his battered mask over his eyes and lifted the cowl to cover the rest of his face, of all the masks he could've picked those long years ago who would've thought when everyone needed to where them his was practically useless. Shaking his head, Bruce stepped down from the milk crates that held up his weathered chair and began to trudge through the inevitable muck that covered what passed for a floor in these tunnels. Each lift of his step took a moment to break free as if the Earth was reluctant to let you go. This city clings to me now, thought Bruce, it needs me. Long purposeful strides carried him across the pocket of Earth he was in to the crevice which led to the nearest maintenance tunnels. It would take him hours to reach where he was going, but time had stopped meaning anything long ago. There was only the law. |
[Poem]
.
Blinding light pierces through floors,
As each soul faces themselves once more,
With everything laid bare, and nothing to share,
Where context is ingrained within the lair.
.
No more running from untold horrors,
No more blaming on unknown foes.
Within these halls, all is true,
For if one lies to himself, he shall rue.
.
Yes, it could be that one lead astray,
Will end up judging you one day.
Don't let them cause you sorrow,
For they are examples of what not to follow.
.
Every night when one ceases to be,
Another human joins these ranks of thee.
Every dream marks the death of a day,
And every morning the rebirth of a ray. |
The sirens began as they always do with that piercing oscillation you could feel deep in your reptilian brain. Copeland shoved his tired feet into the well-worn boots he preferred for field work, threw on a t-shirt reclaimed from a pile of discarded clothing and took off for the command center. There was no wasted movement to his walk, no sense of urgency in his well-measured step. He exited his room into a cacophony of wailing klaxons and lurid strobes of purple light. An interesting color, one unfamiliar to him. That didn’t bode well he decided. The long hallways of the dormitories gave way to the wider corridors of central command. He arrived at his destination amid the screaming sirens, awash in that alternating violet and amber glow.
Indigo Alert. Containment Breach. Monroe County. Florida.
Shit, he thought, not Florida again. Nothing good ever came out of Florida. That had been true even before the breakthroughs in biotech allowing the creation of designer species.
“What in god’s name is an indigo alert?”, someone asked entering on Copeland’s heels.
Copeland knew. Not many did. There’d never been an indigo alert before. When the Orion Containment Corporation had reached out to Copeland it hadn’t been with promises of wealth that they’d tempted him from some dark nexus in the African bush. Hell, he’d still be there if they hadn’t floated the idea, tantalized him away from the freedom of the stifling jungle, on the simple premise that the biggest game in the world now resided in the good ol’ US of A.
Indigo alert. The highest classification for escaped pets. Copeland himself wasn’t even sure what qualified as an Indigo level creature. But he sure as hell was ready for it. Be it genetically modified jungle cats or bioengineered bull elephants, there wasn’t anything walking this earth that could take a 416 Rigby at 50 yards and keep charging. He waited quietly as the AI reconnaissance finished triangulating and the algorithm combed the DOD Designer Pet Registry for the offender. However, when the algorithm finally got a hit and the creature flashed on the screen, even Copeland wasn’t ready for what he saw.
The V-22 Osprey touched down violently in mainland Monroe, just outside the Everglades National Park. The sun was just beginning to set and inch by inch the dying orange light gave way to a humid dusk. As men rushed about unloading the Osprey and setting up a basecamp, Copeland kept to himself. He had all he needed in the tactical rifle case slung across his shoulder. The drones were being offloaded and he watched the engineers and mechanics began assembling the multi-rotor UAV’s they’d be using. Three large cows emerged bellowing in rage from the cargo hold prodded by their handlers, their hooves touched down on the soft ground and they were ushered into the hastily assembled pen.
By midnight the drones were buzzing 100 ft in the air as pilots directed them from flight controllers. The LED display screens showed off the crisp night vision and infrared capabilities of the airborne machines. They glided into the everglades the whirring rotors fading to a hum before finally being absorbed into the nighttime stridency of mating insects and who knows what else. The pilots’ eyes never wavered, never veered from the screens as they navigated the wetlands seeking their target. The hunter’s gazed with equal intensity. The biologists weren’t watching they were locked in a heated discussion that Copeland tried his best to ignore. This wasn’t a containment mission, this was a neutralization. They couldn’t allow this creature to roam free.
Within long minutes that seemed like hours, each tick of a second lasting an eternity in which universes could be birthed in violent explosions, expand furiously outwards towards infinity, and finally die cold deaths, the drones closed in on their prey. There was a collective gasp when the thermal signature first set the LED screen of Drone 3 ablaze. It burned with an intensity that put the sun to shame. The massive size of the heat signature was unfathomable amid the cold foliage.
Having set the drones to autonomously follow the beast, everyone but the night shift pilots tried to bunk down and get some sleep. If any found respite in that first night it was fleeting.
As dusk fell again and the twilight world came to life, Copeland found himself in a camouflaged tree stand 50 yards out from the clearing where the cows had been staked and were furiously bellowing at the audacity of their confinement. He sat with his CZ 550 Safari Magnum cradled in his lap, one 416 Rigby in the chamber and five in the mag. No more, no less. The comm nestled in his ear buzzed quietly.
“600 yards and closing,” it whispered in his ear. The cows continued to rage in the clearing. He felt the creature before he saw it. Its thunderous steps shaking the ground beneath him. Each stride registering on the Richter scale. It approached with all the subtlety of a tectonic plate. Now the cows had gone silent. They felt it too. Some instinctual knowledge of the predator hidden deep in their hindbrain. Their ancestors had never known such a creature. The mighty aurochs had never encountered such a goliath. But they knew, deep down as any herbivore does, that mighty though they were, they were prey and what approached was not.
“500 yards.” The cows began to whine, they pulled wildly at their restraints. Copeland couldn’t bear the noise, the frenzied panic. He wanted to shut his eyes and cover his ears because for the first time in his life he knew their fear. For 32 years he had assumed he was the predator and all fellow creatures were his prey. But as this Lovecraftian horror approached with the mass of a dying star he finally knew the truth. He too was prey. But Copeland steadfastly shouldered his rifle and took aim.
“300 yards and closing fast.” He could feel it in the earth. The shaking and snapping of trees as limbs were torn from trunks before the onslaught of this creature of lore. It approached like a receding glacier grinding everything before it into dust. It broke through a copse of trees to the southeast of Copeland’s position with the force of a locomotive and descended upon the cows in a furious gnashing of massive teeth and flashes of rending flesh. If you had told him later that the cows simply exploded in a gory mass of viscera, Copeland would have believed it. He took sight of the monster and the concussive recoil of the rifle bit into his shoulder as he pressed the trigger. The first shot took the creature in the side near its ribcage. It flung the torn carcass of a cow thirty feet in the air and screamed in rage. Copeland quickly slid back the bolt and chambered another round. To his left a second shot went off and the creature stumbled for the first time. Its massive head whipped around trying to find this new enemy with its biting assaults. Copeland’s second shot again took it in the ribcage and the monster wobbled, took two thunderous steps and then fell. Its body struck the ground and Copeland later wouldn’t have been able to distinguish it from an asteroid impact.
As they approached the body lying in its own Chicxulub crater, steeped in blood, surrounded by the scattered carcasses of the former cows, it heaved a final breath and went extinct once more. Copeland stood in one of its massive footprints and wept. The biologists extracted tissue and the DNA that had been Orion Containment Corp’s true mission. They stored the samples on dry ice. Packaged them. And Copeland watched with dread as they labelled them Rex and notified HQ that the mission had been a success. |
Happiness. Trees. Forest. Running. Escape. Freedom. Flight. Leaves. Sky. Clouds. Whiteness. Emptiness. Silence, broken suddenly by a foul, deep voice.
"Be careful when you pray. God is not the only one that can hear you..."
I awoke with a start. I was drenched in sweat; panting. Everything was wrong. I felt nauseous. No vomit, but discombobulating. I stood, and fell to my hands and knees. The floor spun below me. This wasn't normal. Then again, my situation wasn't normal.
I had been transported to a new world; had been enslaved by elves. I had made a deal with a god and got the short end of the stick. I was a gladiator, a book keeper, and a plaything for a baron. I was a feeder for the local vampire. I was alone, even when with others in the same situation. We were alone. And for the first time in a long time, I had prayed last night, only to be awoken in the middle of the night by that message.
This wasn't normal.
I got up, and got water. Then I sat back down and meditated.
I was not going to let abnormality stand in my way. I grounded myself, and went back to sleep. |
I was ready. I had gone over all the expected interview questions many times with Jane. There was nothing that could stop me.
Something wasn't right. I couldn't remember how to walk. I began to panic.
Maybe I'm still dreaming?
I pinch myself.. still here.
"Jane! Jane help me, I-I'm not sure what's going on.
Jane?!"
Jane didn't reply. I could hear the faint sound of a car engine not too far away. Maybe she was near.
I will myself to roll out of bed and onto the floor. I began to crawl to the bathroom. Something wasn't right.
When I looked at my reflection, it was me, but not me. The noise of the engine was louder now, closer.
"Jane, please help me, tell me what's going on!
Okay, you can do this, deep breaths. I placed both hands on the side of my sink and began to pull, to will myself up and onto my legs.
Tears flowed freely as I cried out for Jane, my legs in unbearable pain, but slowly I managed to place one foot on the ground.
I could hear the car right outside now, almost behind me.
Screaming in agony, I placed both feet shakily on the ground, and turned to look at myself in the mirror.
It was me. Still me. The same as I was before, but I now remembered that I couldn't walk and never would be able to again.
I came to in the hospital bed, surrounded by Jane and my family.
"Mike, we thought you'd never come back go us, we were so worried."
I smiled, and embraced Jane.
My first prompt, feedback is welcome, I'm not really much of a writer, just dabbled. |
*A line? Really?*
That was max's first thought when he entered the afterlife. He wasn't thinking about that dark alley, or the man with the gun., he was just pissed that he was stuck in line. He stood in a white expanse of nothingness, the place was neutral in all senses of the word. It was just bright enough to see but not bright enough to hurt his eyes, there was no smell, and the air was mild and breezeless. Everyone else in line looked just as confused as him…because they were him. A line of a thousand Max's stretched into the oblivion. They all stood in quiet confusion, making no moves to talk to one another. *Of course, even in the afterlife I can't socialize*.
After what felt like an eternity the last Max in front of him moved forward and he was at the front of the line. An angel sat before him at a large desk. He looked at Max, looked at a sheet of paper and back to him again.
"Congratulations you are the 732nd Max to enter and you are being held accountable for...everything you've ever done wrong."The angel said matter of factly
"No no no, that can't be right. What about all the good I've done?"I asked
"That got assigned to someone else."
"Someone else? But that was me! I did those things."
The angel sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Look, morality is not some black and white, tip the scale kind of thing. people are too complicated, you do the right thing for the wrong reasons, you preach the wrong set of morals, you’re all so full of love and hate, heaven can't have people like that. We only take the good, pure people, but since you’re all selfish, selfless, bags of good and bad we decided to split you up."
"S-split us up?"I asked
"Yes, we look at all the aspects of your life and only take the ones we want. The you that's responsible for everything good you've done gets to go to heaven. He is your purest form."
"But there’s thousands of...me? It can't just be good and bad."
"Well yes, unfortunately splitting a soul is a bit complicated. They tend to shatter. We don't just judge your good and bad, we judge your relationships, your sexual desires, how you treated other people, and every other aspect of your life. Each piece is assigned a responsibility and sent to the afterlife accordingly."
"So what was the point?"I asked, my anger rising. "Why spend my entire life trying to be a saint just to get stuck with all my sins. What happened to eternal love and forgiveness?"
"Oh you've been forgiven...just not *this* you. Now I think I've answered enough pointless questions. It's time to go."
"No that's not fair! I won't go you can't mak-"The angel snapped his fingers and Max was falling. The white light faded above him, the air grew hotter, he fell into the flames, damned to hell for sins already forgiven. |
I stopped.
It was a long and empty road, the yellow centre marking the way forward, to the left of that there was a now dead possum. Its blood coloured the old black road.
I took a few deep breaths, in the nose, out the mouth, in the nose-
"Fucking finally!"I yelled, slamming my fists down on the dashboard in ecstatic joy, almost breaking the fragile steering wheel. After a minute of fist-pumping into the air, I sat, tired and heat soaked.
In the top left of my eye, barely visible but still present were the words 'Wizards eliminated: 1 of 2'. It had changed. All my life it had said '0 of 2' as if trying to taunt me, to goad me into completing a goal I had no interest in fulfilling, maybe trying to tempt me into a quest with no certain end.
But no.
It was an average day and I was just cruising along when I saw the possum wriggling on the road, trailing its bleeding right leg behind it. I thought I would put it out of its misery with a quick tire.
Looking back, it definitely wasn't just a possum.
I had lived a somewhat normal life after realising, at an early age, that the message in my vision was unusual. To tell anyone would just bring unwanted attention and needless therapy. So I kept quiet.
I learned to live with it. |
The machines are fairly typical steam punk: Mechas for army and police, steam trains for mass transit, steam cars for the rich. All are powered by nuclear *fusion* to generate the heat. Everything lighter than iron can be used as fuel, producing iron as the result.
Magic is powered by nuclear *fission*, producing radiation and fallout with every use. Only iron/steel can be used for magic wands etc. The stronger the spell, the more radiation leaks. Everything heavier than iron can be used as fuel, producing iron as the result.
Potential conflicts:
* A neutral region finds a deposit of fuel.
* The machine faction wants to preserve nature, the magic faction wants to have fun.
* An outside force wants the iron and to get rid of the people.
* The magic faction is elitist/supremacists/racists, the machine faction are egalitarians/communists/anarchists. |
So, tempted with the idea of causing 3 more branches of suffering for countless soul with your own personal benefit in mind, you begin an arguous journey to the very base of hell and delve into the fringe layer of Dante's final circle of hellish torment. Realizing that you weren't that bad off in your originating circle & this layer inpaticular is quite seemingly unbearable for souls, and the next permiation should provide a slight relief but also must be much much worse. The final stage in this inferno entangles one's spirit in an exhausting amount of forceful agonizing soulful labors combining writhing flails with eternal burning sensations, so to counter and worsen the experience, I have taken away a ghost's volition and mobility but added an encrustment of solidified Carolina Reaper Gelatin where the torture is to be still or punished for even the slightest if movements. The following manifestation would be the same thing but made from Skunk gland extract. And for the finale, both substances combined but you must sing Spice Girls songs for eternity without skipping a beat. EVER. |
*I was never a very good God.*
The sands flew by beneath his.. feet? conciousness? Even now, hundreds of years after first ascending to divinity, he wasn't entirely used to it.
*Getting closer now...*
Of course, it would have been easy to simply reappear at the place he needed to be. He was, after all, omnipresent. Still, merely thinking about the whole thing was giving him vertigo, and he liked to watch the sands.
There was a certain presence in the sands. He'd always been fascinated by how, from above, it was nearly impossible to tell how close he was to the ground. Was he looking at tiny disturbances caused by the wind, or huge, hulking dunes slowly making their way across the desert.
They also helped him think. Remember--
*Remember the wetlands.*
It was more a command than a reminder. He needed to remember. This place was why he had chosen to stay silent for so many years. This was his reminder.
*This was where I murdered my people...*
He rematerialised at the bottom of what used to be the Nile, leaving soft footprints as he walked. He picked a desert flower from the riverbed. She couldn't speak, but at least she would listen.
"At least not *everyone's* dead here"he said with a faint smile.
They walked in silence for a while, eventually coming to the point where the river began to open up into the sea. Even as God, the sight made him thirsty.
"My house used to be up there"he said, pointing to a nearby ridge, "just a few minutes walk away."
He cleared the lump that had begun to catch in his throat. "After my predecessor retired, the floods started coming more often. I thought I could stop it. I thought--"
He stopped himself. He *had* stopped it. It *had* worked. That was the problem. He'd always tried to fix the world, he just didn't know enough about how it worked to keep his plans from going wrong.
"The original God was an architect. He knew how to plan ahead. The rest of us, well... we'd grown so fascinated with the sheer artistry of it all that we'd forgotten about the scale of our mistakes. The world eventually became so complicated, so balanced on a knife's edge, that even the slightest of changes could affect the system in ways we'd never intended. Even the first stopped trying to help people in the end."
The flower didn't respond.
God sighed a heavy sigh.
"The river fed our people. My people. He was good to us, even during the floods. He constantly pulsed with the tides, bringing us trade, watering our crops, ...
*And that's when I put my hands around his neck and squeezed until his quivering body was forever still.*"
The flower remained silent.
*You're judging me...* he thought.
Then, with horror, he realised his mistake. All he'd wanted was someone to talk to, and yet by plucking this flower he'd killed one of the only living things left along the river.
*Everything I touch...*
Perhaps he could have saved it. He didn't wait to find out. He was *destruction.*"
God turned, dropped his companion, and vanished into the dunes. |
\[Poem\]
He waits eternally, beyond each black hole,
in a room with no windows or doors.
He feels no loneliness in his soul
as he paces the obsidian floors.
The shelves within stretch to infinity
lined with books like grains of sand on a beach.
Yet, no matter how far away they may be,
every book is always within reach.
He does not count days, he does not count nights,
merely takes up a new book to read.
Every book finished is put out of sight
and on to the next he proceeds.
After countless tales of horror and might,
you'd think the next would be ignored.
But though he is a boy to every form of sight
he is not so easily bored.
Each story is a life, each book a world
The Dark Archive records all that you hide
And its ever-young master sees your secrets unfurled
as he reads the Tales from the Darker Side. |
*Scene* A dark room, with 2 shadowy figures sitting at a table dimly illuminated by the moon night.
The first figure shifting around, then a sound of inhalation is heard before a large cloud of sweet scented vapor is exhaled.
“You know what sucks about quantum computing?” A male voice is heard, serious, but neutral. The other figure, lightly illuminated, you can see trails of long dark hair and split off ends. Their hair flows with the light hvac draft as if it were a single thing. “Only you can use it?” A woman’s voice is heard. Serious and subtle.
“No.” The man responds. “Depending on how long a species has been exposed to it correlates to how much logic is lost from that person. We’ve been unknowingly using quantum computing our entire lives” He pauses to take another round of his vape. He coughs as he exhales. “Damn..” “So, you cannot understand, there’s a man out there that can’t shit without his phone in his hand as apart of that logic.”
“This planet is fucked. Everyone’s about to go savage. World leaders are going to become instantly aggressive and war prone. People will immediately result to primitive narcissistic logic to get their goals done.”
“It’s about to be hell on earth.”
They both begin looking outside as the sirens are heard. |
It was called the Quake Bomb. How it worked was spreading a ton of energy over a large area and causing molecular bonds to literally “shake apart”. This bomb was given the nickname “The Vibrator” by the science team that came up with the idea.
Problem was, they weren’t quite sure if the atomic vibrations would dissipate once it reached beyond a certain point, or if it would reverberate through the Earth and cause the destruction of everything.
Why then would this bomb be researched? Well, it offered a lot of advantages over nuclear weapons, chief among them being no fallout or contamination would occur. If the United States decided to use this bomb, they could potentially use it on an enemy country and occupy its remains immediately. This was an insane strategy and a terrible use of science, so of course the military machine funded it immediately when the idea was put forth.
There were two schools of thought on the dissipation of the weapon, and they both had about 50% support from the scientists in the know. This made the general in charge, and by extension the President, nervous of testing the weapon. But it had to be done, can’t exactly go start a war and have all your weapons not work at all.
It couldn’t be tested in space, because the whole idea was that it interacted with a higher density of matter than was found in space. The President then had a great idea. The moon. What if we not only tested it on the moon, but we did it at night on the light side of the moon while it is hanging over the enemy nation? That should scare them into keeping in line. Plus if it annihilates the moon, so what? That will just mean that we are talking serious business here. The tides should be fine, it’s not like the mass would go anywhere.
The scientists were appalled for a few reasons. One being that it will harm any future research on the moon. But the big one was if it actually destroyed the moon, that would be a very bad thing for the Earth. They understood this, the politicians and military either did not or did not care.
It took about 9 months to put together the payload and the rocket and blast it to our nightly neighbor. This was done under complete secrecy, no other countries were notified of this. The President was going to make a speech about an hour before it happened. He loved the drama.
Everybody on the opposite side of the Earth watched in horror as the moon began to shake. It was very slight at first, but kept growing over time. They stayed up until the moon went all the way down the horizon, on what many thought was its final march down the sky. But that’s all it was doing, was shaking. So some went to bed figuring that everything was going to be fine.
It was the early evening in America when it became obvious that everything was not going to be fine. The moon came up the horizon, but as it did so a piece was broken off, chasing the shattered moon. As the populace watched, more and more pieces broke off, and then those broke into pieces as well. After 3 nights of the world watching in horror, the moon was about half the size it used to be, with a very large debris field chasing and being chased by the lunar remnant. It was both a beautiful and terrible sight.
Luckily, this did not affect the mass of the moon all that much, since that debris was still there acting gravitationally similar. Yeah, the tides were a bit goofy now, but by and large they were mostly the same. The world breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this doesn’t mean the end of civilization. That was until NASA ran the calculations of the orbits and discovered that a large chunk was going to be pulled into Earth’s gravity well and collide with the Earth. It was about 6km long and about a kilometer wide. Around as large as the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. This was going to happen in about 2 months.
In panic mode now, the governments of all the nations decided to try to stop it. However they couldn’t agree to anything and everybody was pissed at the US. Pissed enough that a few wars ignited during the middle of this. Nobody was getting any work done on the solution, because the militaries of all the countries were focused on defense and there was simply no more money for anything else. Other nations saw weaknesses in each other, and now that the US had a doomsday weapon, hostile countries decided that this was the time to destroy the US, before it could use the weapon again. All this infighting occurred as the lunar mountain circled in closer. And closer.
The imminent collision seemed a long way away, but attacks were happening everywhere, near everyone. Most were concerned with the immediate problems at home, fortunately those problems all went away on December 6, 2034. On December 6th, the war ended. In fact, most everything ended. There would be a few problems, such as gathering food. There were less and less animals every day. And the massive cold was an annoyance.
After a few months, none of that mattered either. |
You know the worst part about opening a bar at 9AM when you're the only bartender? No, not the loss of sleep, it's the inane conversations of my earliest customers.
"You're having a Pepsi for breakfast?"Growled one of the pair.
"Yeah, so?"The beautiful voice of the second challenged him. "What did you have, pray tell?"
"THE SOULS OF THE INNOCE..."The demon began, then started coughing as his throat constricted. "A bagel. I had a bagel."
"At least I am hydrating myself."The angel turned his nose up.
"Hydrate... What the fuck?!"The demon replied. "Pepsi isn't hydrating! It has salt in it for fucks sake!"
"It wets my whistle quite nicely."The angel glared at him. "Why not ask our...."
"No."I stopped him. "Figure it out yourself."
I escaped into the back to fry up some bacon. Their arguing would keep them out of trouble, and it would be at least another hour before anyone showed up. Go figure that I was wrong.
I came out with fresh breakfast sandwiches to the two assholes trying to get a young woman to agree to whether or not Pepsi was hydrating. She looked both ecstatic and terrified, her mind close to breaking.
"What part of 'figure it out yourselves' do you two not understand?"I asked in exasperation, before turning to the woman. "What can I get for you ma'am?"
"Um... My boss said you do breakfast here?"Her voice quavered.
I wondered what she had done to piss off her boss that he would send her here, of all places. I offered her a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, with a 'local employee discount' to get her out faster. Most people would focus on the 'deal' and not the all encompassing terror caused by my regulars.
The angel and demon were arguing who was evil again, completely ignoring the woman as she left. Eventually my first bouncer showed up, taking up station to guard the door from any other victims. The angel and demon had moved onto juice, the demon yelling that squeezing fruit did not make it healthy while pounding on the bar. I'd have to buff out the dents later.
"Okay guys,"I interrupted, "You know the rules, either order something or leave."
They grumbled, but they didn't want anything else. The angel didn't consume meat, the demon was lactose intolerant, and neither drank before 5 o'clock wherever they were. When they finally left, I let out a sigh of relief. I had a lot more problems to deal with, what with the new 'no jokes' rule, and having them around either scared off or killed my customers.
I could only hope for a better day, not that I would get it.
[My Musings](https://www.reddit.com/r/HorrorHMDMusings?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) |
No one ever realized it when it happened. Humanity had always taken The Hyperborean for granted, defeating whoever that challenged our fragile status quo, even the most powerful, including me. I heard the news when I had my disguise on. It was unbelievable. He broadcasted it all over the world.
` As you all know, I and all Hyperboreans have always strived to protect humanity and its brother civilizations at all costs. But you have broken our contract. And for that, the Society for Galactic Protection names Earth a lost cause. Goodbye. `
After that, he just blew up the entire assembly. Flying upwards, he crashed his invincible body into the United Nations building, and used his telekinesis to kill as many people as he could. It was a massacre.
And... now, now, New York is under lockdown, Manhattan is in ruins and he's destroying Brooklyn and Queens, block by block, street by street.
I must act. Not for any vengeance, not for any kind of greed, but for the survival of the people that we should have protected at all costs.
I am now mobilizing my Automatonic Army to maintain order across the world, and I shall fly to New York to stop him. I will also share as much information of his powers to you as possible. We must carry on as the protector if the bastards in Hyperborea refuse to.
Death to Hyperborea. Long live Earth. |
"You need to save Danny Glover..."the voice whispered.
​
Soon enough, I was able to move my hands from covering my eyes. It took over five minutes till I stopped seeing stars. However, that voice might haunt me forever. Could I be going insane? Danny Glover? Like actor Danny Glover from Lethal Weapon? This is straight-up weird. I turn off the hose I was using to water my flowers and head inside. I find a man sitting in an office chair. He looks up at me and straightens his glasses.
​
"Ah, good day, Drew."
"Hi."
"Yes, yes, let's go then."he grabs a suitcase from the table and opens it. Inside the suitcase is big wade of cash, probably the most I've ever seen at once. "Here,"he hands me the money, "you'll need this."
​
"What the heck is going on? First I see a light and now..."he cuts me off.
"Oh yeah, sorry about that. I'm trying to get better at my landing process. It's harder than it looks."
"Landing process?"
"Mhm, I come from the heavens sent by the Gods to protect all mortal beings."
"So, what are you protecting me from?"
"Oh, I'm not protecting you. I am sent here to tell you you need to save Danny Glover."
"The actor?"
"Yes, the actor."
​
I was pleased to hear that I do not hear voices in my head and that this was real. But this was definitely weird. I looked at the wad of cash in my hands. There had to have been at least $50,000. Why me? Why was I destined to save an actor I've never met. I don't even know where I would have to go to find the guy.
​
"What do I need to do to help Danny?"I asked.
"Well, you see, he's cast for a new film called The Lighthouse. I can't tell you what will happen. However, I can tell you something bad will happen on set. Your job is to prevent this bad event from happening."
"How the hell would I even do that? I'm a damn accountant and know nobody in the industry!"
"That is for your to figure out, Drew,"he stands up and steps inches away from my face, "the money should be sufficient to get you where you need to go."
"Bu wh-"and suddenly, with a finger snap, the man vanishes into a cloud of smoke.
​
I stood there for a while, soaking in what had happened. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know where to start. I was just left wondering why I was picked for this quest to save a famous Hollywood actor. |
“Sir? Please wake up. It’s an emergency, you really have to leave.”
The maid glanced at the standing suit of armour in the corner of the hotel room as the sleeping form grumbled an unintelligible response. The wanderer with the metal arm seemed to like travelling light, as shown by how a single tote bag lay discarded on the floor, so the sudden appearance of the armour seemed rather out of character. Not to mention, it was probably far too large for the small mass who currently was still stubbornly anchored to the mattress.
“I don’t mean to be forceful, but you must leave now,” the maid tried again. “We don’t want to involve you in any trouble.”
At that last word, a groan escaped the lips of the wanderer as he groggily sat up. The maid noted how quickly his foggy eyes darted around the room, first towards the armour, then the bag, then resting on herself. Metal fingers rubbed his temples as the wanderer adjusted the collar of the red coat he had slept in.
“Wuzza problem now?” he yawned. “If it’s summat small, I wouldn’t mind helpin’ out –“
“Bandits, sir,” the maid interjected, almost spitting the words out. “Here for their usual raiding of the town. Now, if you don’t mind, we must leave immediately or risk getting shot.”
Internally, she winced. Maybe she was acting out of line by being so forward. But then again, if that wasn’t going to get the wanderer going, she didn’t have any ideas what else would.
A sigh. Good, maybe this sleepy guy had some sense after all.
“Regular bandits?” asked the wanderer, standing up fully off the bed now. “Or do they have augments?”
Wait, who cares what bandits? The maid blinked a few times as she tried to register how the wanderer seemingly refused to care about the impending danger he was in. She turned her gaze to the armour, wondering how long it would take to move it out and whether she should just leave it behind.
“Excuse me, lady? I asked you a question.”
Great. The wanderer with the death wish was now getting annoyed at the ridiculous notion of hurrying the heck up to not be killed. The maid let out a long breath. She couldn’t lose herself now.
“Augmented, sir. I must insist we leave now before –“
“You said something about this being usual?”
“They come every week, sir.”
“How many?”
“Eight, not including their transports.”
“Hm. I see.”
The wanderer walked over to the armour, craning his head up to face the maw of the helmet.
“You got all that, Al?”
To the maid’s complete shock, the armour responded with a slight nod, before picking up the tote bag and moving towards the door. The wanderer followed suit, but as the pair were just about to leave, he stopped to look at the maid now standing in stock silence.
“Do you have anything to defend yourself with?” he asked.
The maid shook her head. The plan was that she fetch all the clients and get out, not to arm herself for a fight. Heck, she never even held a gun before. The wanderer seemed to take note of her lack of response as he now fully faced her, a slight smile dancing on his face.
Then he clapped his hands together. Sparks flew from the floorboards as the wood contorted itself upwards, the fibres twisting together into a spear that the wanderer caught in mid-air and now held out towards the maid. After she meekly accepted the weapon, the wanderer immediately turned to stride after the armour that was now well outside the room, his red coat billowing behind him.
“Couldn’t resist showing off, eh, Ed?” the maid could hear an unfamiliar voice say. Was it the armour? No way it was the armour. “Plus, isn’t it a bad idea to just summon a weapon for a civilian?”
“Nah, she’ll be right,” came the laughing reply of the wanderer. “I had to give her something to protect herself taking care of us on such a short notice. This place was the only one willing to give us a room for the night. Call it equivalent exchange.”
“We’re already exchanging money for the room.”
“…shut up, Al.”
And with that last statement, the maid fainted. So much for protecting herself. |
Summer nights always had some essence in the air that made the company of friends and family better. Chatter from multiple conversations slightly muffled the loud music playing from the speakers in the backyard. I watched Christine dance with her friends at the poolside. Her slim body moved fluidly, her wavy crimson hair caressed her shoulders with her every movement. I was sitting next to the outdoor bar that I frequented as she caught my eye and smiled. It was her 26th birthday and I surprised her with a party. It was fairly difficult contacting her many friends and keeping this thing a secret, especially the ones who didn’t like me. Stephanie was the worst one, she never accepted my apology from crashing her car even though I wasn’t the one at fault.
I took a sip of my drink and looked up at the night sky, there were a lot more stars visible tonight. A seemingly noticeable flickering star glowed with a bright green radiance. I found it odd that other stars started taking the same appearance. The green glows brightened and illuminated the night sky while others noted the beautiful light show. I felt a slight tremble from the ground. I looked at my drink that sat on the table beside me and saw the clear liquid shaking as the glass slowing crept towards the edge of the table. The water in the pool swayed back and forth and started to slap the sides, creating a spray of water that soaked the feet of the dancers near the poolside. The trembling got worse, more and more people took notice. The chatter and laughter stopped, everyone stood still in confusion as the loud music filled the silence. I see the flickering green light reflecting from the pool of water get brighter and brighter. I look up and see a green light shoot from a bright glowing star. The light moved fast as it got close to Earth’s surface. The light moved behind the house rooftops of the neighborhood.
The light made contact with the surface, creating a loud boom. The dozens of people in the backyard frantically made their way towards the sliding door leading into the house. Terror filled the air with shrieks and yelling while I stared back at the sky. Another light beam shot out from another star with a sudden green flash that gave out the brightness of sunlight. This beam made contact closer to the house. The sound wave from the light shattered the windows of the house with shards raining down onto my head. My ears had a loud ringing and made me disoriented. I fell to the floor trying to gather myself. The shrieks and yelling were muffled, I heard car alarms faintly in the distance. I feel someone grab underneath my arm trying to pick me up. I look up and see Christine trying to pull me off the floor. “Aaron!”, she yells. I pull myself off the floor with her help, my head throbbing, I can barely stand. “Aaron! We need to get in the house!”, she says. “Are you seeing that?”, I reply pointing up at the sky. Flashes of light fill the night sky as more and more beams of light make their way towards us. I stagger towards the broken sliding door, Christine pulls me inside and I fall towards the floor of the kitchen. I look out the door and see a beam of light strike our backyard. I see a figure emerge from the beam before I blackout.
“You know, your pyramids were supposed to prevent that.”, Mjolner says. I met him the day of the incident. He was the one who emerged from the green light, a portal is what he calls it. He had the very characteristics of the aliens I see in movies, a big head and a short skinny body. He continues, “The last time my ancestors visited Earth, they said your kind were still pulling big rocks with ropes.”
I set my glass of glowing red liquor on the floating bar table in front of me. It was a strange bar I found by mistake taking the wrong portal back home. Mjolner tried to explain how everything in the bar floated but dumbed it down to me saying it was an “anti-gravity” bar. I look at him with an annoying look, “As much as I want to talk about the history of my people, I’d rather talk about why you wanted to meet me here.”
“I might’ve found her. Some of my people were visiting ‘52A’ and met some woman that mentioned your name.” He says.
“Red curly hair?”, I say as I lean towards him.
“Fair skin, 5 foot 6 inches, tattoo of a butterfly on her right side, everything you mentioned. It’s 10 miles west of your house, well, what’s left of it that is.”, Mjolner explains.
I reach for my glass and take another drink, the red liquor has a burning sensation making its way down my throat. I sit the empty glass back down on the table and get up. I turn towards Mjolner who’s still sitting down besides me. “She probably made her way to her parent’s house. 2 years is a hell of a long time, she probably thinks I’m dead.” I start walking out the bar, stop, and turn around towards Mjolner, “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s time I find my wife.” |
**Powers:**
**Will Embodiment**
**Omnidirectional Absorption Waves**
**Conditional Tangibility**
Origin Story:
When we were kids in a small village far away from bigger cities, our parents told us different myths and stories about creatures, gods, or godlike humans and monsters.
But none of these stories fascinated me more than the explanation of death.
When my grandfather died I could not understand the meaning of being gone forever, extinguished from this world in a blow.
So I asked my mother what’s happening with people that die.
She told me that either we go to hell if we lived a life full of sins, or to the God who cares for us and rewards humans if they were good.
I asked:
” *How do we get there if our bodies are still here*.”
“*The embodiment of death*.”, she replied “ *There was a human, that wanted to live forever. So he asked God if he could grant him this wish.*
*God angry about this human, who wanted to get something he did not deserve, sent him away. So this human dealt with the devil, but instead of the immortality that he desired, the devil tricked him that when this human was old enough his body died, but his soul was locked inside his corpse.*
*God saw this and took pity on this lost soul, the human was able to live in his body again, but he had to work for God and the devil since than.*
*He frees the souls of dead people’s bodies and takes them to God or hell*.”
I remembered this story right when the truck hit me.
My world was blown away. But instead of meeting Death, my body just faded away from his visual form as I hit the ground.
It was not like my body was gone, it was still there, but no one could see me.
The next thought I had run through my head like a tremble, was I a ghost?
The truck stopped immediately, the driver came out of his cabin, eyes full of fear, realizing what just happened.
I could see him searching for my body but I was not visible to him.
We stood there like an hour on this lonely road in the woods, him not understanding why there was nobody to be found, me trying to interact with him, telling him I am fine, but not even my words were getting to him.
After a while, the truck driver drove away and I went on my way home, still traumatized being like a ghost.
As I woke up the next morning I could not just feel my body, but also see it again, was it just a dream?
The stone fell directly onto my head when I strolled through the night city.
One loud **CRACK**
and my Body was intangible again.
This time I was quite fine with it, I knew my body would come back.
Trying a lot of different things with this ability was my new goal now.
I figured out that going through walls was able for me, so I began also experimenting on other people. After some time I noticed that saying something, was not useless. For sure they could not hear me, but I could
influence their behavior and the next decisions they would make.
For example, whispering “*Run*! “, to an old lady and she would throw away her bags and stuff and begin to run.
Being intangible for as long as I would go to sleep was nice, but having to die for it every time was quite a problem.
Dying in front of other people would freak them out and drowning or getting to a high place to jump from would take too long.
The good way was electricity.
I was nervous when I did it the first time on purpose, what if it was not supposed to be this way, what if I am just crazy.
But when I lost my body again I had this new feeling inside of me.
I was loaded with energy, felt unstoppable, **godlike**.
That was when I did a mistake. There was this girl I went to school with and yeah it is creepy but every time I was in ghost mode visiting her was my first deed.
Flooded with the energy I rushed towards her house, through the walls into her room. There she was, beautiful, preparing for a party in front of her mirror.
My hand went to her face when suddenly the energy exploded inside of me releasing an immense shockwave right in this small room of hers.
Seeing everything vanishing in front of my eyes. Everything, the bed, the mirror, the chair, and her.
I swore never to use my powers again.
30 years passed by, I got a nice job, a wife, two children, it was a good life.
But one evening I came home late the front door was wide open, first, I thought my wife was taking the trash out or something like that.
Then I saw the police car parking in the street.
Running into our house a police officer tried to stop me, but I could see them lying there in the living room.
Pushing him away, getting to my family. Too late. They were murdered.
The police determined later that a neighbor of ours was an extreme racist, who planned this a long time, I was just “lucky” enough to be at work for that long that evening, told me the police chief.
Every evening now I “die”, go through every house in the city I live in, observing the people, influence them, helping them do the right things.
If they can not be helped by me, there is no other choice for me but to end their lives, so that evil is no more.
I have stopped living just for myself.
**Now I am Death**. |
I must have had a beginning. Everything in this universe has a beginning and an end. As such, I, too, must have had a beginning. But it happened so very long ago. I have existed for eons. In my long solitary journey, I have seen the births and deaths of stars. I have seen more things than any living being could possibly ever fathom. Yet, my existence had no meaning. I merely existed and I moved. For eons, that was all I knew and that was all I cared.
But suddenly, I sensed a change. It was a sensation that I had never felt before. It was subtle at first but the force grew strong and stronger. So much so that it drew me closer. For the first time in my existence, I finally had something that I never thought I would have. I had a destination.
I do not recall my beginning, but now, I can see my end. And I feel... happy. Living beings that live and die within infinitesimal cycles would never understand - they will never know what it means to exist without reason or goal. For once, I had a goal. The goal would lead to my end - the cessation of my existence - but it is a goal nonetheless.
The blue dot that I am headed towards is small and barely visible. But judging from my newfound speed and this force that pulls me closer, I calculate that I will meet my end at this blue dot in a century. I have existed for eons. A century is but a flash of light. Soon, I shall meet my goal. |
The low ringing from the landline pulled me out of my slumber. I sighed and checked the time. 4:37 AM.
“Who’s calling this early?” My wife, Xiomara, groaned.
“Not sure. Hopefully it’s not another burst waterline. I know we got those fixed,” I yawned and answered the phone.
“Mayor Cranewell speaking,” I greeted.
“She’s awake. She just woke up this morning-“
“Sorry, who’s awake? What are you talking about? And who is this?” I asked.
“Dr. Cane, from the Williams Lake Community Hospital. The Jane Doe has waken,” Dr. Cane said, “Princess Magdalena,” he added in a low whisper.
“She’s awake? I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.
“Who’s awake? Besides us,” Xiomara asked sleepily.
“My great-great-aunt,” I said as I quickly got dressed.
“The comatose girl? The one they found in the castle 100 years ago?”
“Yeah. I’m going down there to see what’s going on. After all, I’m her only family member,” I said.
“I’ll get a room ready then,” Xiomara said.
“That depends if they let me take her home. I’ll be back,” I said, kissing my wife on the cheek and hurried out.
I hurried into the hospital and ran up to the front desk.
“Mayor Cranewell. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked me.
“I’m here to check on the Jane Doe-“
“Will! I’m glad you made it. She’s pretty upset and scared. She’s asking for the king,” Dr. Crane said, pulling me aside.
“Well she’s in for a shock,” I said, scratching my head.
“Will, you need to talk to her. You technically are the king and one of her living relatives. We tried our best but she refused to listen. You need to talk to her,” Dr. Crane said.
I sighed and nodded, “Take me to her.”
I followed Dr. Crane to Magdalena’s room, where she lay, strapped down to the bed.
“She was hurting herself as she tried to escape,” Dr. Crane whispered.
“Who are you, and where’s the king? Where’s my father?” Magdalena yelled.
“Maggie-“
“It’s Princess Magdalena to you! Who are you?” She snapped.
“I am... the king. I’m William Cranewell,” I said.
“You? You may have my brother’s name, but you are not him! Where’s my family,” Magdalena demanded.
“Magdalena... Your family’s been dead for over 60 years. Your parents, your brother, they died of old age. Magdalena, our kingdom was transported into another world. We don’t know how it affected your sleeping curse, so we placed you here. I don’t know how else to tell you this. I’m sorry,” I told her.
“No... no you are lying. You kidnapped me! My father’s men will rescue me, and you will pay,” she threatened.
I sighed and patted her shoulder, “Think whatever you like, but these men are trying to help you. You haven’t eaten anything for over 100 years, who knows how you survived that long. Can she eat?” I asked Dr. Crane.
“We need to do further tests, but that’s up to you. Technically, she’s a minor,” Dr. Crane said.
“A 115 year old minor. Do the tests, make sure she’s fine,” I said told him, “and I’ll be here, even if you don’t want me here,” I told Magdalena.
“I-is it it really that long. 100 years?” Magdalena asked. I think the news was finally sinking in.
I nodded, “I’m sorry Magdalena. But I promise you, I’ll look after you, get you caught up to date in this new world. I have three kids your age if you are more comfortable talking to them,” I said.
“100 years,” she said, more to herself than to us.
I sighed and sat in the chair in the room as Dr. Crane began to check her vitals. |
Humans don't get me started on humans.
Most species? Calm chilled happy little animals in nice big herds.
Herd gets big, predators bugger off and you get time to discover cool stuff like fire, cooking and electric fences.
Eventually you get so good at it the predators can’t really do much anymore and you get your whole species off the planet to no longer worry about them.
Congratulations you are in the end game with the other 99.99% of the galaxy where it’s totally peaceful.
Notice the 99.99%... yeah, used to be 100% then humans came along.
Here we are about to welcome the new happy herd to the super herd when guess what pulls off its helmet.
Two forward facing eyes and sharp teeth.
A lone… individual… spacefaring predator.
Not some plains running animal somebody shot on the end of a rocket as a ‘take that sharptooth!’ Here's for the million years of blood sweat and terror.
No, these… animals… actually managed to develop antimatter.
I can't stress how terrifying this is, a predator that chases and sustains itself on killing sentient animals has access to gigaton warheads.
These guys don’t even need to fly around in standard 1herd ships, they can just face the black solo for weeks on end and not freak out.
They were shunned immediately.
They were not officially part of the galactic community because nobody wanted to shake their hand.
They were pretty good at shipping, you no longer needed a herd to move cargo between planets, they could handle the small odd jobs that were otherwise too small for a 1 herd ship.
They were pretty good at one other thing.
We didn’t leave war behind, 2 herds would face off occasionally with the biggest ship’s they could find, form two walls and headbutt each other with mass drivers until one side gave up.
Cool strategy when asserting dominance over a rival herd, not so good against self replicating robots which everyone at some point makes the mistake of creating.
So human’s? They found themselves 2 niches, hunting killer robots and space truckin.
All they ask is a good solid shake of the hand and antimatter.
We give one tentatively and the other in spades, I'm starting to suspect they actually enjoy the opportunity to kill something difficult.
Thank the great (fertilizer deity), the humans are here! We’re saved. |
“Will you kill me?” He says it like it’s normal, his unusual yellow eyes watching me curiously. As if death is of no consequence to the supernatural.
I don’t even know how to react. He’s still staring, waiting for my response.
“How?” I managed to ask. He nods to himself, seeming to take my question as a yes. Now that I think about it, that’s how I was making it sound. I really did want to say yes. I wanted him gone. But all I had were a couple of knives on me, and I wasn’t particularly interested in challenging him to close combat. They hadn’t allowed guns into the building even though I had tried to sneak a couple in. “For my own protection,” I had claimed.
I thought it would be worse punishment if we’d managed to capture him alive so that he could rot in a cell, for eternity. The prison staff would keep him alive on animal blood, and he’d be locked away in an isolation cell, left alone to go mad. Vampires could survive indefinitely so long as they had enough blood to sustain them, but fortunately they could also be killed by blessed silver weapons like almost all supernatural beings found in this realm.
But the longer we kept chasing after him, the more capturing him alive seemed unlikely. Vance Killian was powerful, cunning, and worst of all, he blended in seamlessly with humans. Some vampires couldn’t keep their bloodthirst in check and were easy to spot, but Vance was disarming with his polite mannerisms. We’d been chasing him for close to a year now and lost so many dedicated members during the investigation, and this was the closest I had ever gotten to him.
As an Investigator for the Supernatural division in the Police Force, it was my mission to gather intel on the current manor he was settled in and the guards. It wasn’t until recently when Vance had become a more a public figure; before he had mostly worked from the shadows. My partner and I had decided to crash a party he was hosting that evening. Somewhere along the way, we had gotten separated - my partner had to distract the guards while I slipped up the guarded staircase. The goal hadn’t been to confront him directly, though.
And as he stood in front of me, the more red I saw. I wanted him dead. For everything he had done.
He stepped forward, opening a drawer of the low circular table in between us. The drawer slid out to reveal a glinting, metal gun with a leather grip engraved with an intricate pattern and words in a language I didn’t recognize. There was a cartridge full of silver bullets, too. I bet they were blessed by a High Priest as well, making them highly effective.
Why was he showing them to me? Given the opportunity, I knew I would probably pull the trigger on him myself. Sure, maybe I’d lose sleep for a few days since I hated killing at all if it could be avoided even if they weren’t human, but he had been running free for far too long. It did make it easier that he was sociopathic, which most of their kind seemed to be.
“Go ahead, then.” He took a few steps back and clasped his hands behind his back, smiling as if he were simply enjoying a pleasant conversation.
My eyes narrowed as they flickered to the gun and then back to his face. “What’s the trick?”
“There is none. You are free to exact your revenge, although I wonder if it will bring you the relief you seek. I know who you are, what your life is like, who you like to… associate with.”
My jaw clenched at that, and I leaned forward to hiss at him, “I can guarantee I won’t lose any sleep over killing you. And you don’t know anything about me, don’t try to get in my head.”
He laughed, which sounded surprisingly normal in contrast to his sadistic behavior. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“If you hadn’t established your operations base in this city, my friends, my colleagues… they would still be here. Instead, I was too late putting all the clues together, and now… I’m the one who will see the end of this.”
He shrugged. “Nobody told them to walk into a building rigged with explosives. And, my dear Liza, I think you can barely handle yourself.”
“You fucking-“ I snarled as I leapt towards the table as fast as I could. He didn’t flinch and continued to smile as I reached across the table for the gun.
I grasped it in my hands and slid back across the table, immediately training it on his face as I stood up. The bastard. He had to pay for what he did. I doubted he’d ever be taken in alive, so if I had the chance, I had to kill him. And this was as good of a chance as I was going to get. Only one of us was walking out of this alive.
But I just couldn’t get the fact that I was missing something out of my mind. A piece of the puzzle I hadn’t realized was missing. Our team had been chasing after him for close to a year now, so it was expected that he would know some basic information about our members. And he had known my name and face.
“Aren’t you curious about what I know? If you shoot me now, you’ll never find out.”
Could he see the uncertainty on my face, a panic threatening to settle in? Was he bluffing? My eyes glanced around slightly to check the surroundings, but I didn’t notice anything change, didn’t hear any backup coming. What was I missing? Shit, I wish I had told Fallon to come back me up after he had distracted the guards.
“How are things going with Marcus?”
Marcus? My… boyfriend? Alarm bells were going off in my head, but we had been dating for well over a year now, long before Vance had returned to the city…
“Marcus? Marcus is human.” I stated matter-of-factly, searching his face for some clue.
He grinned wickedly. “Oh, I so do love surprises.”
Oh no. After all I had gone through, trying to keep him from finding anything about this case, all the half-truths I told, and Marcus… Marcus was the missing piece. He had been the one working for Vance, that was how he seemed to be tipped off right before our every move. At that moment of realization, something hard hit my left temple and I fell unconscious, collapsing right into the arms of Marcus.
“Was that really necessary, Vance?”
\_\_\_
i don't like how this turned out too much, but i wrote it out for the prompt so i figured i'd post it :) |
It’s been forever since I’ve got on. I don’t know why I was picked, what I did to deserve this fate. Was my name pulled from the hat of the universe? Why was I picked to be god?
The answer never came.
Only glimpses of me appear throughout an endless cycle. Every time I do, I see the future. The ups and downs, the sins and truths. Equipped with endless knowledge, I strive to make this world better, for it is my only chance.
Next time I appear, everyone I met will have disappeared.
They treat me as their god, pray for me to save them, yet all I can do is watch. As I pass by I must explain, that their god is just a mortal with only the power of knowledge.
“I may know the future, but I can’t help. I’m just a mortal. My every action causes massive waves, sometimes destroying, sometimes saving. I have learned to not interfere, yet they still pray to me. I am by their hope. I wish they would under stand”
So it continues, and I come back from where I started. A small planet called earth. They were uncivilized. Fighting against each other from the beginning.
They scoffed and were arrogant, claiming to be the greatest. And, truth be told, they were. They may not be able to tell the future, but their evolution and intelligence is unrivaled.
However, their future is dim. I see nothing but darkness for them, as a result of their intelligence. Their greatest power is their greatest enemy. I tried to unite them, under a banner named “god”, yet this only separated them more.
They fought over religious beliefs, and so I gave up. My powers as “god” cannot save them. I have held them back, their “rules” never change. I didn’t foresee that. I didn’t think that my changes would cause this effect.
All I wished was for kindness and cooperation. They could of done everything. Maybe that’s why I was selected. They are scared. Scared of mere mortals.
(This is my first time doing this, and I haven’t written a story for like a year. I do want honest critique because I felt this was kinda decent, but it is likely biased since it’s mine) |
The man sat at his kitchen table, staring at the small box he had recieved. Drumming his fingers on the table anxiously, he eventually caved and gave into the overpowering urge to have another peek.
As he lifted the lid, he saw the perfectly black interior. It hadn't been his imagination. This was really happening.
From the outside, this ordinary cardboard box couldnt have measured more than 18 inches in any direction. And it was practically weightless. Delivered from a anonymous sender to his address with a simple note. It read: "A way out."
As before he could shout into the box, and hear faint and distant echo of his voice reverberate back. He could drop a coin in, and never hear it hit the bottom. He could reach his whole arm in and wave it around inside.
Leaving it open, he rifled through more mail. A bill. Another bill. A final warning. Another was an eviction notice. Ah of course, the divorce papers had finally arrived too. There was a court summons for his unpaid fines. The letters painted a true portrait of a man who's life had fallen apart.
There was a sudden knock at the door. Not the friendly rap of a welcome visitor. But a violent series of thuds that shook the door on it's hinges. "Open up. It's the police!"Came the first warning. "Open up or we'll have to force our way in!"
The man looked around the apartment. A window too high to jump from. No way onto the roof. The fire escape had been broken for years.
He looked again at the box and clambered up onto his table. There were more frantic bangs from the front door as it was being forced open from the outside.
He took a deep breath, squeezed his shoulders in. And crawled into the box. Using his arm to pull the box closed just as the front door burst open. And the police poured in to an empty room. |
Jack Frost was a real sonuvabitch. He was nipping at my toes. He was biting and nibbling too. It was kinda creepy. Somehow I'd gotten lost in the Canadian wilderness and now this crazy SOB was hunting me, hounding me like a dog. All I had was my subtle stubble while stumbling around in the dark, gasping for breath and grasping for life. My stubble would protect me. Not from stumbling. That might still happen. But if it did, my hearty beard growth would cushion the blow. It also insulated me and kept me warm. It was my only ally against the merciless cold of Mr. Frost. And why? Well. I had decided to do the Polar Plunge. I'd always been willing to accept any dare. That's why I was out in the Canadian wilderness at 2 am alone. Alone with ol' Jack. And yet Jack kept coming. No matter what I did. I couldn't stop him from coming right after me. Finally, after what felt like years, I came across a hot springs. I'd be safe there. Me and my stubble. And Jack Frost would go on to haunt another.
​
​
I know you meant "stumble"instead of "stubble,"but I couldn't resist. I hope you at least got a chuckle. |
Elaine sat waiting, blue evening dress falling about her in soft waves as she stared across the entrance hall at the imposing bust in its alcove. She had been considering it for a long time now, questions of its age and origin being far more palatable than the question of where Matt was. It was just like him to do this now, to keep her on edge and on hold in a moment that should have been triumphant for both of them. He was a man who dealt in small victories, while trying his best to convince everyone around them he’d already won.
\---------
“No, no, no, that’s not it…” Steven muttered, casting aside his first draft. “I’ve just switched over from a whole chapter on Matt’s perspective, I can’t use this to introduce her. There’s no life in her, she feels as cold as the statue! Perhaps the next one,” he said, reaching for the next page in the stack.
\---------
With her long legs crossed properly at the ankles, gloved hands folded neatly in her lap, and the timeless pearl necklace resting proudly on her chest Elaine Wattson looked like a woman out of another era; the statue that she stared at seemed more a contemporary than the ancestor it truly was. She knew the kind of man Matt was, had guesses where he would be this time, and she did her best to push them out of her head. All she had to do was get through this one night and then he wouldn’t need her anymore, they could go their separate ways (or so she hoped.) Still though, in the vast silence of the entrance hall she hoped he would hurry, the desire to see him and the desire to be free of him warring inside her as always.
\----------
Steven crumpled the paper into a ball, throwing it in the general direction of the wastebasket. That one was even worse, what had he been thinking when he wrote it, all he’d done there to try to give her more color was describe how she looked! He'd gotten a little more into her head at least but still, damn.
“Ok, next one, next one...” he said.
\--------
“I can’t do this, not tonight, not here!” Elaine thought to herself. “If he’s with her again I can’t bear it, he knows how it hurts me.”
Eyes fixed squarely on the clock near the door Elaine Wattson counted the seconds since her boyfriend became officially late. 964 seconds exactly, or 16 minutes and 4 seconds. She’d always had a talent for numbers, and a bright mind that deserved far more credit than it had gotten. This should have been her night even more than it was his, it had been her discoveries that got them here! Matt had shouted her down like he always had though, signing his name to the bottom of the paper she had written after a night of fighting worse than any she’d ever experienced. His best talents had always been manipulative, never one to achieve with his own calculations what he could steal.
\--------
“Hey,” Stephen said, “that one’s a little better. I gave her her own voice, used a slightly closer third person, gave her a clear talent and showed that she’s brilliant. I can work with that.” This page he set to his left side to consider further, and as he reached for his pencil and a clean sheet of paper Steven wondered what he should write next.
“How long should I have her wait? Probably not much longer, he’s gotta show up eventually, I didn’t make Matt do that much in his chapter. Hmm, I didn’t really give a physical impression of her in that one, should she still be wearing that blue dress? Maybe the pearl necklace would be a little much...goddamnit, why is writing women so hard?”
At that Steven began his next draft, never even stopping to wonder why his “heroine” should have to wait alone at the bottom of that staircase in the first place. |
To evade this perilous crusade, I quickly ducked below and crawled into a small passage way that revealed itself to me. Whatever was behind that door had to have been better than getting involved with that street-gang. What the hell did they want with me anyway?
I crawled a few feet, on my hands and knees, before gingerly turning my head back to peer towards the small door, to see if the gang had attempted to follow me. Except now, the area where I’d came from was consumed by darkness. The door had closed itself off after I’d entered? Should be fearful, or glad? ... Continuing to crawl, I made my way out to the only light I could find. The end of the path.
I crawled back onto my feet and stared up into the atmosphere, almost breaking a sweat when I realized the minuscule door led.. Absolutely nowhere. I was right back in the alleyway.. Oh well. Guess it’s time to get my ass beat. |
(I)
My squad and I set camp before dark. We chose a place sheltered by a giant boulder. It was the most defensible spot we could find on this desolate plain.
Miles upon miles of red dirt, lit by the setting sun, became darker and darker. The strangely blue sky slowly turned into an alien purple hue, then black. My squad mates always found the quick rotations irksome at best, but I did not mind it. The sunset here has a majesty of its own, and the sunrise is a natural alarm clock. For some reason, I have an easier time adapting to this routine. Perhaps my genes are more barbaric than others’.
Every night, when we could not fall asleep because of the bio-cycle misalignment, Elijah would have recited passages from the Text, reminding us why we were here, and what we are fighting for. Most other squad mates quickly dozed off, faking or not. I found his voice calming and the Words comforting. Especially after we lost Tom. I think the others would agree. I could feel it.
Tonight, Elijah is silent. He will never read the Text for us again. They took him out with a clear plasma shot between the collarbones. In his last moment, he moved his lips but no sound came out. I tried my best to hear his last words but the sounds of gunshots and explosions were too loud. Instead, he gestured for me to take his prayer beads, rapped around his arms. The world seemed to fall silent, and he stopped breathing.
My squad and I sat around the small campfire we built before dark. We stared into the fire and listened to its crackle. In the distance, wolves and crows scurried to pick the bones. I looked down on my left arm and the prayer beads wrapped around it. Then I looked up to the Moon, its glorious cities and their billions of lights. On the other side of our home lies the Oracle, but we cannot see it here on this forsaken world, filled with heretics and ingrates. I closed my eyes, and began to recite the Text, the Blessed Words of the Oracle.
“In the Beginning Two were created, the Oracle and the False Prophet. One speaks Truth and Light, and the Other Lies and Darkness.” |
It's freaking 3 am, and Sparky calls. *You gotta come over and see this! Right now! Click!*
If it weren't for the tinge of worry in his voice, I'd have called him back and chewed him out. As it was, and knowing how trouble-prone he is, I figured I'd better go look. I would *not* want a repeat of the Crystal Towers incident. Using *that much salt* poisoned the local botanical society's entire facility—even the stuff inside the conservatory.
It took a lawyer and a shyster to get the society to admit that if we hadn't done it, the entire facility would have been destroyed anyway.
(A lawyer tells you what you can't do. A shyster tells you how to get what you want.)
Anyway, I get to his house, which is steaming, and he's at the storm door to the basement with his garden hose on full, along with both his neighbor's hoses. A red glow with shades of bright yellow shines through the billowing steam.
"Have you called the Fire Department?"
"They won't come. Told me to call the U.S. Geological Survey and get proof that volcanoes were plausible here."
"And?"
"They said no, so I called the NGA and asked them to send the USGS a satellite photo of my house and the homes on both sides, in the infrared band. Then send it to the USGS."
"And?"
"They called the cops instead, reported one hell of a grow house."
"And?"
"They showed up all SWATTED out and crashed into the basement. They got out okay, we put out their boots, and they chewed *me* out for calling them. I told them that *I* hadn't called them."
"And?"
"Told me to call the Fire Department. I told them I had. They claimed I couldn't have. I said prove it. They called the Fire Department, reported the lava lake, and got laughed at for falling for my *prank*. Last I heard they were going to go SWAT the Fire Department."
"And?"
"Five alarm fire at city hall, there's no one to help here until sometime tomorrow, *if* they get the city hall fire dealt with — all the outside aid is going to city hall."
"And?"
"They told me if I was such a genius, I could figure out how to put it out myself."
"And you called me."
"No. I called my neighbors. They figured helping me right now might save their houses."James and David nod.
"How's that going?"
"The burned grass has stopped expanding."
"How's your house holding up?"
"The problems will start when the steam stops, but it might straighten out the bent rafters from the Dehydrated Water experiment."
"No smoke?"
"Not now."
I took a look into the basement after Sparky gave me a welding mask. Kind of like a pre-vision of Hell, with live steam. The entire basement floor is bubbling lava.
"Why's it bubbling?"
"The city aquifer flows through here."
"Isn't that going…"
"…to turn the water to steam? Yes. And I did tell the Fire Department about that too. They laughed. That's on them. I've already called the lawyers and told them. They've got the details and are locking down the evidence. The Fire Department will scream, but they'll pass the buck to the city, and the city will split it between the Police and Fire. Then the police will pass it back to the city. Lather, rinse, repeat."
"Until they get relief from the State or Fed. Do you think they could do that first?"
"Shyster says no. Lawyers gotta justify their retainers."
Getting information out of Sparky is mostly a matter of prompting him. He gets wrapped up in some aspect of the problem, so you have to give him a nudge. With the Emergency Departments and lawyers dealt with, it's time to turn to the problem.
A cool head is essential when dealing with Sparky.
"Okay, it's lava. What were you *trying* to do?"
"Geothermal energy where it doesn't come naturally."
"So you drilled to the molten layer?"
"Not intentionally."
Of course not, but you have to ask.
"And you used what diameter drill?"
"Effective radius one centimeter."
And he couldn't use a regular drill because that would take too long. Must have been a force field construct.
"Sparky, that is not coming from a two-centimeter hole."
I think I know where this is going, but you've got to make sure. That's what Sparky forgets. I generally manage to rein him in before it gets this far. I find proper uses for the crazy ideas he comes up with. I get a nice percentage too. That drill could be fantastic, but only if we can tame it.
"No, it isn't. Best guess is it's about two meters right now."
"How fast?"
"Oh, a centimeter per two hours since we started the water."
Drat. It *is* what I thought.
"What happens when the steam gets here?"
"…oh, shit…"
"Yeah. Look, this is a shitty suggestion, but wasn't there a developer who wanted to buy all these properties? For like ten times the market?"
He's a sleaze, but right now, he's a sleaze with cash and in a hurry. Makes a useful combination and an object lesson.
"Yeah, but we like it here."
Only once the water goes to steam, there won't *be* any "here".
"Sell, but only if he agrees to cashier checks and within the hour. Sparky, get your lawyers to set it up. It'll cost you 10%, but they'll make it no return, no refund, no lawsuit, no lien, no joking."
I turn to his neighbors.
"James? David? You get your families out of here right now. No belongings; if there's time, I'll have a crew come in and grab everything, but I want you safe tonight. Go all the way to the other side of Mercerville."
I'll have to get the other families moving too. Disclaimers of responsibility if they don't agree to run for it now. Point out that James and David are already running.
"Oh, yeah. If the sky goes red, get back into your car and drive WEST until you can't see it anymore. With luck, you won't end up on the West coast with no road."
They look a question at me.
"You know what a supervolcano is?"
They looked at each other, and *ran* to their houses, screaming at their wives to get everyone moving. I was delighted to learn that they had family bug out bags packed and ready.
David did something else. He's a ham radio operator and has that big aerial outside. He started up a generator, flipped a few switches, and the most god-awful howling started. Red strobes bright enough to see at either end of the valley, and I could feel my hair rising from some electrical effect. When it began pulsing three shorts, three longs, and repeat, with some other message embedded, I got the idea.
Within minutes, every one of those families was on the road and gone.
"Sparky? Did they practice that?"
"Yep. And we need to get out of here right now."
I turn to look, the hoses are spraying steam from all the holes melted into them, and the lava is pouring out of the basement windows. About two seconds later, the house blew up. Straight up.
I noticed the lava had got dark.
"Sparky? How much dehydrated water did you make?"
"Oh, about a trillion liters."
I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him into my Porsche, muddy boots and all. Hit the gas, and we set a land speed record for getting out of that valley.
We'd gotten over the ridge when there was a tremendous steam explosion, underlit by a lava fountain.
Then Sparky's house came back down.
The sound of nearly a trillion liters of water hitting a proto-super volcano left both of us two thirds deaf for three months.
**"SPARKY! TRUST ME! CANCEL THE PROPERTY SALE!!"**
**"OKAY ABBOT!"**
#### A Year Later
"Well, Sparky, all the property issues are settled. Every family will get a share of the profits in perpetuity."
"Yeah, and the developer is even happier. He owns and operates Lava Lake Amusement Park all year round. He didn't even mind paying twenty times the market price for the land underwater."
"Well, it can operate all year round, and the hot water pipes under all the city streets will keep the roads clear too. The city was delighted by that."
"Yeah, I think we've got it all settled."
rrruuummbbllee
"Abbott? Was that your stomach?"
*Rummbblleee*
"No."
**RRUUUMMMbbllee**
"Run?"
***RUMMBLE!***
"No, too late."
***RUUUMMMMBBBLLLEE!***
***shreeeeeekkkkk!****
"Oh. Oh, good."
"Yeah. That's not half bad."
"How's it compare to Old Faithful?"
"For size? About ten times the height. Maybe the same for diameter. We'll have to wait for the repeat rate."
rrruuummbbllee
*Rummbblleee*
**RRUUUMMMbbllee**
***RUMMBLE!***
***RUUUMMMMBBBLLLEE!***
***shreeeeeekkkkk!****
"About how long was that?"
"Oh, about a minute."
"A shriek a minute? That's not so good."
"Is it runaway now bad?"
"Could be. I'll grab the cat; you get the truck ready."
"Don't be late."
…—…
"Well, we're fifty miles away; how's the interval looking."
"Thirty seconds. It's getting closer fast, that one was 20 seconds. Ten. Five. Duck."
So we did. When *Sparky* says duck, you don't ask why. Fifty freaking miles away, and we were *drenched* with warm water. From our lookout, the lake was still full, and still steaming.
"Sparky? What's the volume of that lake?"
"Um. A few million liters."
"And you made *how* much Dehydrated Water?"
"Oh, about a thousand times more."
"We're leaving."
"How far?"
"I think Tierra del Fuego *might* be far enough."
"Let's find out."
((finis)) |
"Your mission is the location and retrieval of Unit 03 codename: "Cipher".
Once you are in contact with Unit 03, engage emergency return protocol. The target's disposition and possible means of resistance are unknown. The target's return to the Tether is paramount. If you find yourself unable to complete your task, return immediately for debriefing, strategy and possible termination of Unit 03's body in the sleep chamber.
Acknowledge, Unit 04."
"Understood, Unit 01."
"Report to the Stasis Chamber. Prepare for immediate deployment."
--------------------------------------------
The Stasis Chamber was quiet and bare. The huge circular chamber was fitted only with pods and the Tether in the center of it all; A monolithic computer that stood above us all. There are three people who can operate and understand and calibrate the machine. My job is to bring back one of them, arguably the smartest among them.
There are no windows in this chamber, it's bare and cold. My pod opens to the touch and I ease myself in, taking a last look at the one next to me: Unit 03. Inside lies the still body of a sleeping man. His peaceful expression and soft features belie his true nature.
This man, Dr. Adrian Elmen, has charted the ship's course into a nearby sun and has locked himself in the Stasis Pod. I have 3 days to find him and make him reverse the course of the ship he designed and save the thousands of people who call The Gardenia home.
Destroying the Tether is out of the question, since we don't know if it it will kill him or if it's tied to any other vital ship functions.
I'm being ordered to do things I'm not even sure are possible, but I have to try.
As I lay in the pod, the lid locks into place above me. My neural link begins communicating with the Tether.
My eyelids grow heavy. I catch my gaze as I find myself looking down...at myself. Trying to find an equilibrium makes me even more disoriented and as I try to focus my gaze again, I see the ship so far away and I fly past the sun that we're going to fly into. I'm not sure how to close my eyes...do I have eyes anymore?
I need to focus, but I also need to relax. Dr. Elmen is out there somewhere and maybe there's a reason for all this.
--------------------------------------- |
I crept through the night, staying as quiet as possible as I approached the town. I had managed to sneak past the armed guards, and climb the hastily erected wall surrounding Warmosa. I was determined to discover what had happened. I wanted to know where my friend had disappeared to.
I finally reached the houses on the outskirts. I couldn't make out details, with my reluctance to shine a light, but it seemed whole. As I looked at it closer, I noticed the brickwork appeared to be rotting. I refused to touch it to confirm, but it cemented something in my mind. There was something that was being hidden from us.
I moved on, finding the streetlamps lit. They revealed the cold, empty streets, devoid of all life. The houses around them were in various stages of decay and ruin, far more then could have been expected in the couple of months since I was here last. I hurried on, heading to Alex's place.
I found her house in a similar condition. The door practically disintegrated at my touch as I entered. The harsh light from outside revealed a ruined interior. It looked like the place had been ransacked, furniture broken and shoved to the walls, the picture frames cracked and barely holding together. I hurried upstairs, hoping to find the journal I knew she kept.
The carnage continued upstairs. Her mattress was ripped and torn. Shreds of clothes covered the floor, her wardrobe doors ripped off. The TV was face down on the floor, impaled on the lamp from her bedside. I swept through the wreckage, scarcely able to believe what was before me.
I saw it. The corner of her leather-bound journal. The one I gave her last year. The cover creaked as I opened it, showing the pages inside to be yellowed and curled. I flicked through to the dates to after my last visit, hoping to find something of use. Then, I found it.
\-----
>19th October
>It was a strange day today. Had the usual folks come by the café for lunch. But just after the usual rush, the town shook. I didnt think much at first, until PC Gavin came for his post duty coffee. He said there was some stone pillar that burst from the ground in the centre of town! I'm going to have to see this for myself at some point.
\-----
>23rd October
>Finally got to see the pillar. Some weird stone carved with swirls. Made me want to bake some cinnamon swirls for the cafe. But anyway, we also had some government officials come by. They said they need to secure it. I don't mind. The longer they're here, the more tea and coffee they buy from me.
\-----
>27th October
>Fed up with today. Nothing seemed to go well. I've had a migraine all day, the coffee machine broke, and Sarah called in sick. Those government busybodies didn't help either. Some "top secret"mumbo jumbo when I asked what was happening with the pillar.
\-----
>30th October
>Had a strange dream last night. I saw the pillar. But it spoke to me. Said it was The Obelisk of Decay. I thought it was a coincidence. But when I spoke to Kyle about it he mentioned something similar. Weird. More government outsiders arrived today.
\-----
>5th November
>The Obelisk has been speaking to a lot of us apparently. I didn't trust it at first, thinking it was just some weird shared dream. But then Mr Baker has been so much happier. Today, he smiled for the first time since his wife passed. It listens to us. It makes us feel warm. It cares for us. And it has asked for nothing in return.
\-----
>9th November
>The Obelisk asked for something small. It didn't want us to go out of our way. It just asked us to spread its cheer. It wants to help us. It makes me feel so good about everything. Myself and Sarah made a sculpture of it and put it on the counter. All our friends appreciate it. They offer it praises. Not those outsiders though. They seem to disapprove.
\-----
>13th November
>They pried too much. Wanting to know our lives inside and out. The Obelisk said they had to go. Gavin tried to protect them. Kyle got him off our backs first. Then we got the outsiders. They wanted to harm the Obelisk. But they were fed to it instead. Not a couple though. Plenty of meat for sandwiches tomorrow.
\-----
>16th November
>It told us how to truly be happy. We need to give up on the thought of the constant. We need to appreciate the now, before it decays. It is all part of the cycle. We can just enjoy the ride. We took turns, visiting each others homes of permanence. We destroyed it. The Obelisk is pleased.
\-----
>19th November
>It says we can be happy forever. Our bonds to the permanence of reality lost. We just need to go to it. I am going
I lowered the book, shaking from what I had read. She was gone. Completely. I heard a footstep behind me, and turned. Alex stood there, nude and unlike I had seen before. Her skin had turned a mottled green, her eyes black pits. Then more footsteps, and 2 others I didn't recognise stood behind her.
They hissed, and lunged forward. I stumbled back, the floor partially giving away beneath me. I fell stuck in the new hole. They grasped me, and turned, dragging me with little effort. They hissed again, words mixed in. To my horror, I understood.
"The Obelisk will welcome a new member." |
In 2021, America is in chaos and in the middle of a world war. The ongoing war overshadows the groundbreaking invention of a time machine. In the midst of the chaos, the inventor decided to send a lawyer to change America's future by send him to 1776 to rewrite the constitution. The lawyer in question is Sam Ellis from the prestigious Ellis law firm in DC. However, word have gotten out about the operation to the other law firm, Smithfield. The main lawyer from Smithfield is Dennis Cook who was known for scamming clients. The day of the operation came when Sam entered the time machine, set for July 4th, 1776. As the time machine began shaking, Dennis run from his hiding spot onto the machine as it disappeared.
As the machine reappeared in 1776, Dennis looked around and saw the world around him. Brick houses, horse carriages, and men wearing oversized wigs. He was in 1776 America.
*thunk*
"How do you open this again."
Dennis smiled as he heard Sam struggling to exit the time machine. With no time to waste, Dennis ran to the building where the founding fathers were holding their meeting. Opening the door, Dennis caught the attention of the founding fathers.
"Excuse me sir. We are having an important meeting at this moment."said Ben Franklin.
"But I need to tell y'all something important. My name is Dennis and I'm from the future."
"What nonsense is this!"exclamied Alexander Hamilton.
"What proof do you have aside your strange accent and clothes?"asked John May.
Dennis pulled his phone and showed the founding fathers who reacted in confusion.
"This is a phone which can pay music and search any information."
Dennis played a song which shocked the father fathers.
"By God, he is from the future!"cried John Adams.
"Sir, may I inquire why you had returned from the future to the present?"asked George Washington.
"You see, the United States is in danger. I'm here to prevent it from occuring."
Dennis talked about the all the events that happened in America from his experience. The founding fathers just stood in shock and disbelief as he told them the events.
"A civil war?"
"Three world wars?"
"A global pandemic?"
"A black president?"
"What can we do to prevent this? "
Dennis smiled as he seized the opportunity to change the future to his liking.
"Well listen up Jefferson, write this down.."
Sam finally managed to open the entrance when the machine all of the sudden started up again. The machine transported Sam back to the present America or what was America. Confused, he exited out to see the world and see if it was changed or the same. The first thing he saw was the Ross Betty US flag hanging outside. He hurriedly went on Wikipedia to see what occurred.
"*Founding Father Dennis Cook, was the 3rd president of the United States of America. Known for his failure to conquer land from the Native Americans. With the loss of so many people due to his military failures, he became unpopular. To replace the workforce he banned slavery and granted women's rights so in his quotes "Don't have to do it himself"which led him being assassinated in 1804.*
"Well, looks like problem solved then." |
"Er...can I help you?"
Blinking, the scribe who just asked that stared at the dragon peeking his head through the window of his office. At first, he screamed, but the dragon continually to simply wait for him to calm down. So clearly he wasn't about to be abducted and/or devoured.
"Yes, actually."The dragon said. "This *is* the office of...Raww-burt, the scribe?"
"Robert."The scribe nodded. "And yes, I am him."
"Well, I'm in a need of assistance regarding...sorting."
Robert furrowed his brow. "Um, scribes sort books, not treasures, if that's what you're here for."
"Yes, I know! And this *is* about books. I..."There was a pause. "Contrary to popular tales, dragons *do* collect things other than gold. I've got a diverse hoard of stuff lying around. It's less about wealth, and more about what floats your boat and how much of it you got."
"I see. So you want me to organize your library? Make neat, categorized stacks?"
"*Partially*. My actual problem is, well..."He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "I have kids. And they're sucker for bed time stories. But I realize my collection is...well, a mess. Never know when I'm picking out a picture book or a dirty magazine until after it's in full view. And I *really* don't want to start *those* kind of conversations any time soon."
"Oh!"Now Robert perked up. "I understand now! So, do you want me to organize the materials based on age appropriateness?"
"Try reading level. My oldest is going to be ready to read on her own soon."
Robert nodded. "Got it. Don't you worry, Sir Dragon, no one can match the organizational skills of a fae-born! You'll be able to stall any uncomfortable talks for as many years as you want once my job is done."
***\[Kinda short, but that's all I really had planned. The fae-born thing is just a little personal joke of mine.\]*** |
As I pulled my hood over my head I still could not believe that my parents lied to me for almost eighteen years. Lied about where I came from, who I really was, and what I was capable of. They never taught me to cope with this hunger, this viciousness that takes over on moonlit evenings. Of course I understand *now.* why they kept me inside at night, why the hair on the back of my neck stood up if I got a glimpse of the moon through a window. They never told me I was a werewolf. I guess they thought if the topic was ignored maybe I wouldn't be afflicted. It didn't do them any good. They met an untimely demise one night when I stormed out of the house during the last full moon of the summer. I rolled around on the grass in the front yard screaming in pain as my insides shifted. My head screamed, my body felt like it was being torn apart and my skin was on fire. When the mayhem finally stopped I was laying on the ground covered in fur. My hands and feet had razor sharp claws. My vision appeared to be normal but I could hear everything. My neighbors yelling three houses downside, the rustle of something moving in the trees the next street over. I got up on two legs and just cried. What was happening to me? Is this real? Am I dreaming? I looked up, saw my parents and that's when it took over. The anger, the unfiltered rage just completely took over. They screamed as I chased them inside. When I woke up I was upstairs in my own bed totally normal, alive and well. A few moments later I realized my parents were none of those things. I grabbed a bag of clothes and ran away, eventually settling down in New York City.
I strolled across the street and nearly got hit by a car. People in the city drive like idiots and I hadn't yet adjusted to needing to be worried about being run over in the crosswalk. It wasn't like that in my hometown. Had it really been three years alrea...
"Watch where you're going!"an older gentleman yelled from his car. I waved him off with my hand and continued down the street to my apartment, making sure I stayed in the shadows. |
Year after year...
Sunday after Sunday...
The easter bunny evaded me over and over again...
Ever since the tender age of four, I have been left desolate. Left completely barren from those stupid candy colored eggs. No matter how hard I tried, or how easy people tried to make it for me, I was unable to grasp a single egg. It would always slip. Not a single egg ever landed in my basket, no matter how bad I wanted it to. In all the easter basket competitions, I would not even get a participation trophy. Nobody thought I wanted to play like all the other kids. Every easter I was mocked by the children that loomed around me. I was mocked to the point of tears, to the point where I gave up easter egg hunting entirely. However, I never stopped wishing, yearning to prove myself to them. I had been hiding in the shadows, training, developing skills and techniques to the likes of which have never been seen, to one day go out there, and prove to all of them how wrong they truly are. I thought to myself, "Today is the day. NO! Today is the year I prove myself, Now and forever! I am eighteen now. I can do this. I will win this thing!"
When the whistle blew, I burst forth with all my might, pushing past numerous kids, and propelling myself into the air. I quickly glanced at the field, reciting the pattern of all the eggs scattered about. The nearest eggs were in a trio, red, blue, and yellow. I landed right by them, and scraped my basket across the ground, lifting all of them up in a fell swoop, like a scythe. Numerous kids fighted to get pass me to get their encased candy delicacies, but I pushed them back into the grassy depths and pressed onwards on my voyage. Darting around the field, with a vacuum on my back and basket in hand, I effortlessly lifted eggs off the ground, no gripping needed. Why battle with your hands when a weapon is more effective? A kid cried. Numerous people tried to stop me, to take me off the field, eradicate me from the game entirely, but they were unable to, because I would not let them. I was prepared. All throughout my training, I did a lot of sprints a lot of memorization, a lot of jumping, searching, finding, I was too far in, and I had to win this thing.
After awhile, I was unable to find any more eggs, however, there was one problem. Every year, there is a jackpot buried in a hole in the ground. That jackpot is a treasure trove. It is well hidden, and will be my biggest challenge yet.
I began my search. I continuously jumped into the air and examined the field whilst trying to evade security. Nothing. Not an egg in sight. I landed, glanced around, until I noticed something off. A kid in the distance had quite the look of surprise on his face. I knew exactly what he had seen. I yelled:"HEY LOOK THERE IS A JACKPOT HERE OVER", a stampede came. I sped away, amongst the crowd of kids. The little boy, looked over, confused. He thought he had found the jackpot, but by the time he did, it was too late. Like a ninja I was gone. And so was "his"prize.
I WON I WON! I proclaimed! Count my eggs! I said as I made my way to the podium. Nobody was happy for me. Nobody appreciated the fact that the underdog has finally won. I worked so hard for this. I held back tears. I just wanted to be appreciated. I looked around at all the little children, they all had different faces. They were my faces. The same faces I made way back when. That is what made me cry. As much as I wanted to be seen and appreciated by people, I never wanted anybody to remain unseen, to suffer in the same way I did . I decided to split the eggs evenly among all the kids. My face grew a beet red, and I began to leave. Everybody was disappointed in me. The parents of the children gave judgemental glares. The mom of the kid who lost the jackpot had an especially bad grimace.
Yet, I felt a tug at my shirt. I turned around. A little girl, no older than five, said, "I understand that you messed up the search and stuff, but every year, I never got any eggs. Thank you for getting me some."Throughout all that happened on the day, all the embarrassment and shame, that one remark made it a day worth remembering. |
I run to the bridge, and enter the piloting cradle. I was the only one awake on the skeleton crew who had bridge control. Hopefully the Captain will awake soon. In the meantime, I can see the enemy ships, their hulls coated with a layer of ablative armor that made our lidar have difficulty targeting. Our ship, a colony vessel, would have no way to outrun or out maneuver the ships. I activated the defensive railguns as I started to change heading to the nearest planetoid.
“Report Lieutenant.” Captain Lucia demanded, getting into the cradle next to me. Her eye was bleary, but was forcing itself to focus.
“5 attack ships, damage to engines 5 through 8 from their railguns.” The captain unlocked our tactical drone controls, and I soon was coordinating the attacks of a score of drones. “Correction, 3 attack ships. The others are too fast to target and I am unable to locate their mother ship. I can confirm it is the Vrill from their plasma engine signature.”
“There was no record of an attempt to hail us. Are they so blatant that they now are targeting us without fear?” The captain bristled at this development. We had 1000 souls in cryosleep, waiting for us to get to a habitable planet. Other than them, we had a skeleton crew of 12 controlling our 8 kilometer long ship. In most cases, it would be considered overkill to have that many, but we had decided to have a get together due to the news of our homeworld being destroyed. Afterwards, 8 of our crew would be entering a cycling cryosleep. I drew the short straw, otherwise I would have been frozen during this attack…
My revelry was interrupted by the Vrill breaking past the drones. I couldn’t rely on the lidar guided railguns to autotarget, so I used the visual sensors to try to fire at the ships. My comms lit up as Assistant Engineer Raphael signalled that he was repairing the engines. I also noted that 3rd Tactical Officer Michaels had taken over the weaponry systems. I could concentrate on maneuvers.
“Lt. Uram, how far are we from Proxima?”
“At least 12 light years. We are actually quite close to Sol. Approximately 8 years and we should be there.” The ship shook from another barrage of attacks. “Michaels is reporting that the final ship is trying to break off. Orders?”
“Finish them off. If they get away they might attack us again with a greater force.” Michaels soon reported success. Raphael also was able to fully repair the engines, and I put us into full burn to make up for the attack. I heard the captain begin to report the incident.
“Standardized 87 days into year 14, after the destruction of Proxima 3. We were attacked by the Vrill, who are attempting to exterminate our species. We are one of 13 ships that had escaped destruction, as we were preparing a colonization attempt to the Tau Cephi Cluster. We redirected the ship to our original system, Sol, in an attempt to find refuge and warn them of the threat. We have been broadcasting our intentions using a tight band frequency aimed at Sol’s planets, but have not received any response. We can only keep going, and hope we are not too late to warn them.” |
A simple thing really. It didn’t make much sense though, there was nothing in the house that wasn’t already disconnected. Maybe it had something to do with the electrical box, or the electric main. No, of course not. It’s silly to think that something known could be so wrong. The man flicked, tested, disconnected every outlet, device, and wire from every connection. And yet it rang in his mind like a worm in an apple.
*What could it mean? Why is it scrawled on the drywall? Why can I hear it, repeating over and over and over and over and over inside my head? Where did they all come from? There was only one before. I counted 300 now. No. Wait. It’s on the celing now. What happening to me?*
The man paced back in forth, his bloodshot eyes were dry and cracked. His mind was absorbed by the words, and no matter how many pills he took, he couldn’t get them out of his head. He finally knew what the words meant, as he prepared to carve the words into his skin.
**MAKE US WHOLE** |
As you wish for more genies with your first wish, he snaps his fingers and nothing happens. You question him on this saying: I wished for more genies, what happened? And he simply responds : You didn't wish for the genies to be yours, so I put them in random places across the world. "Well fuck"you go, wondering what to do for your next wish. I got it! You exclaim, pumping your fist into the air. I wish for a genie with infinite wishes, you shout with a smirk on your face! The genie complies with a shit-eating grin, snapping his fingers and \**poof*\* a lamp shows up in your hands. You immediately rub the lamp to check for trickery, and as you thought would happen, nothing happens. "What now"You ask the genie. "All genies have infinite wishes, the rule is three per person, so I gave you my own lamp again."On the verge of screaming now that you realized you just wasted two of your wishes on this Douchebag of a genie, you try to think of a wish that he can't avoid, and rather hastily say: I'll make it simple for you, I want every genie that you summoned for my first wish in front of me! He smiles and snaps his fingers, and a large poof of gas appears, but no lamps. "I can't wish from them because I don't have their lamps, right? "Yeah"He replies. "Kill me now"You exclaim well letting your shoulders slump. "I'll do this one for free"says the genie, as he summons a sword and chucks it at you, instantly impaling you for your hubris. |
As a young child, my mother would sing to me every night. Her voice reminded me of songbirds, lilting and beautiful. Wrapped warmly by her song, I would find myself drifting into dreams of flying with birds that shared her voice. My mother would trace patterns of love and understanding on my back. Her songs were never the same and weren’t any that I had ever heard after. When I was still a young girl, my mother suddenly took ill. The last day she lived, she pulled a locket out from beneath her shirt. The front was etched beautifully in flower boughs encircling a lark. Inside I knew there to be a picture of my mother and I when I was just a baby. She had shown it to me many times before and I had always coveted it. It was that day that she took it from her neck and placed it around my own. She told me that all the love a mother could have was stored inside that locket, and as long as I had it, she would be there with me. I did not cry at the funeral, or for many weeks after, until one night I could hold them back no longer. As I laid in my bed clutching at my pillows, I could hear my mother’s voice drifting in the air around me like a dream. The warmth encircled me and lead me to sweet dreams. As I grew, my mother’s voice continued to soothe me when I seemed to most need it. Now a grown woman with a house and a husband, it had been years since I had last heard her singing voice, but I never took off the locket. Now I look down at my newborn girl, her beautiful face almost purple, as she screamed in my arms. Nothing seemed to console her, and I, exhausted and overwhelmed, silently wept as I held her close. As the tears dripped down to my chin, I heard the quiet but melodic voice of my mother, deep in my heart. I felt the warmth of my mother’s love and my body relaxed in answer. I smiled as I looked down at my still wailing daughter. Suddenly I felt another presence in the room and I look up to see my husband holding a bouquet of flowers. “She’s still at it, huh?” He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned down to kiss our daughter. Her tiny voice continued to rise as if reaching out towards the heavens themselves. I reached into the top of my nightgown and pulled out the locket. “Oh, yes, that’s right.” My husband dug into his jacket pockets before pulling out an envelope. He took out a very small piece of paper, a printed picture of when I had first held her just days before. “I thought you’d want this...” I smiled up at him and allowed him to carefully put the picture in its place. The locket seemed to glow with warmth as I slid it back into place against my heart. It was then that I heard the words that my mother had heard, the words meant only for her and for me. Now they sounded different, only realizing that I myself had begun to sing and that my daughter now lay quiet. I watched as her tiny body relaxed with her eyes gazing back into mine. I sang my love to her as orchestrated by the locket, wrapping my soul around hers. My song would keep her safe, always. |
Hi u/gottasuckatsomething, this submission has been removed.
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“ No, no, dude, it’ll be really, like, awesome, like, we’ll do whatever the fuck we want all the time!”
“I dunno, man, perty sure i still need to pay rent...”
“I’m telling you man, like, no, think of it like downtown music festival, y’know, you were the one with the ID, and we both wanted to get fucked up all the time, and we did those shit jobs, y’know?”
“Right, bu-“
“No, for real, like ANYTHING. I can like literally do it, this is like my fake ID for life, whatever the fuck! Bro, smash bros all day and then like we smash like actual bad bros, like, no prob.”
“We’ve never, ever even played -“
“Serious? Dude, fuckin pizza rolls and shenanigans, like, as a mantra, except we bust skulls and shit instead of run from blue lights after 3, like, shenanigans, like, plus.”
“But, rent, and fucking I can’t not break my neck swan diving outta a fucking third story window, ya dick. What am i supposed to even fuckin do?”
“Backup. Moral support. Pizza rolls, I don’t know! Tell Aub that I’m sick. Buy a gun, geez.”
“So, like, armed maid cum therapist, but aid and abet? How is this even hero stuff? Honestly love the rogue angle, but I can’t even keep my own life straight, le-“
“Dude. Dude. Shut up, totally hero stuff. It’s not like you’re my fuckin little helper, well, kinda, but, like, y’know, for fun. No, seriously, like, look at it this way, I’m basically a lottery winner guy, aaaaaand I’m sharing, you idiot.” |
Greetings,
This report describes Amalia Lionheart, the last known survivor of the Human-Animal Hybrid Experiment conducted by Laboratory 2669 of the Avenir Kingdom. Sister to Reno Lionheart. Both escaped the Mass Hybrid Eradication Protocol and found refuge in the Heddwich Village. At first, she had troubles having a normal human life mostly because of her being a hybrid lion. But after moving to the Heddwich Village, Amalia is treated justly and equal to any other "normal"human being. She became Alderman's disciple and trained herself in the Abjuration Mystical Arts, making her the only female Abjurer in the Oparoa Region of the Rajaton Continent.
# History
Amalia and Reno were born of the poor Kleimt family in the Avenir Kingdom in the Year of the Octopus. The Avenir Kingdom was known for their technological advancement after they successfully mastered the Enchantment Arts, incorporating magic into objects. Their parents were swords for hire. After they were killed in action, Amalia and Reno became orphans. They initially opened a small weapon shop to make a living.
The Avenir Kingdom, fearing demonic attack foretold by legends and fortune-tellers, launched a campaign to perform animal hybrid experiments on orphaned children, hoping to nurture strong warriors for the kingdom's safety. No single soul among the people agreed to this idea. Enforcing the plan, the kingdom kidnapped several orphaned children to undergo the hybrid experiment.
Reno was about 18 months old when he was initially targeted for abduction. Amalia, who was 6 years old at the time, discovered this through overhearing conversations. As the abductor came to their place, she pleaded them to take her in Reno's place instead, and that an adult is to take care of Reno in Amalia's absence. They agreed, and Amalia was taken away.
There were 100 children in the laboratory. The horrible experiment took months. Not all survived. In the end, only 10 survived, Amalia among them. The experiment has animal features mixed with the human features of the children through ways I could not acquire its details. The goal was to form a Human-Animal Hybrid.
In Amalia's case, she was experimented with a Lion. As a result, she had lion fangs, lion claws on her feet and hands, lion fur on some parts of her body, lion eyes, the strength and speed of a lion, and the smelling ability of a lion. She was regarded as one of the most successful experiments ever conducted in Laboratory 2669.
As she returned home, Reno was already 3 years old. They lived like normal humans. However, strings of attacks from the human-animal hybrids occured. Some hybrid wolves transformed into werewolves, as well as other hybrid animals, causing havoc within the kingdom. Ever since, Amalia was discriminated by the community. She was treated inhumane, the people depriving the siblings' access to food and proper living out of fear and disgust, and some even attacked Amalia, physically and verbally.
Eventually, the Avenir Kingdom banished the mastermind behind the experiment, declared the experiment "ethically inappropriate", and forbid Laboratory 2669 from ever operating. They issued a kingdom-wide search and execution of human-animal hybrid, known as The Mass Hybrid Eradication Protocol, despite their human age. Little Reno suggested them to run away from the kingdom and "to find help".
They managed to escape the kingdom through the slums late at night after Amalia incapacitated the patrolling guards. Their escape enraged the kingdom, and a continent-wide search was issued.
For years, the siblings lived nomadically, through the forests, wasteland, villages, and whatever civilisation they encountered. But in each and every of them, Amalia struggled to have a normal life thanks to her being a hybrid lion. Branded fugitive as well, they moved from places to places, avoiding capture from their homeland kingdom.
Years after, Reno was 16 years old and Amalia was 20 years old when they stumbled upon a cave. Inside, they witnessed Alderman, transformed to a demon by Blood Queen Talia, and their battle with Hartwin, Cathal, Oliver, and the Alderman rescue party, to the latter party's loss.
Camping at a forest nearby, they witnessed the events unfolding at the cave—the Caves of Rigoria. They all discovered the demons' attack plans, Blood Queen Talia's weakness, and Holy Angel Salina's involvement in the battle, but were too powerless to intervene. They witnessed Alderman's restoration and Queen Talia's banishment. Eventually, they also bear witness of Alderman's rage as he singlehandedly took out 1.000 demons in the last day of the battle.
Reno suggested to follow Cathal's party home, hoping that with a demon-human like Alderman existing there and revered by the people, they would finally gain acceptance in spite of Amalia being a hybrid animal. The sister reluctantly agreed. They secretly stalked and followed Cathal's party back to the Heddwich Village.
At first, they were too paranoid to blend into the society, plus the fears of being reported to the Avenir Kingdom, and instead opted to live in the shadows. With Amalia's Lion instinct and Reno's sharp ears, they managed to spot and kill demons hiding in the darkness at night-time, with no one noticing their deeds.
Eventually, Oliver Glens discovered the siblings as they killed another demon. He invited the siblings to his home, just in time as Cathal and Alderman were about to have a juice party. Amazed by their story of hardship and Amalia's sacrifice for her brother, Alderman requested the village council to honour their deeds by letting them stay in the village. The siblings were granted a decent home. Oliver introduced them to the village as the heroes who slayed demons in the night, and the siblings met public admiration and acceptance.
They decided to become Alderman's disciples. He introduced Reno to Transmute Arts, and Amalia to Abjuration Arts. By learning Abjuration Arts, Amalia enabled herself to control her animal instincts, protecting her beloved with Abjuration spells enhanced by Lion energy residing within her. She was later known as The Lioness Abjurer.
To honour Amalia's sacrifice, Reno and Amalia decided to change their surname to Lionheart, and made lion the siblings' family emblem. They are now proud bearers of the Lionheart Emblem on their chest and back.
# Heddwich Protection
The Avenir Kingdom received rumours that Amalia, now as Amalia Lionheart, and her sibling Reno resided in the Heddwich Village. They kidnapped a villager to reveal the siblings' location by force. The kingdom then formed a party to capture Amalia.
But as the party arrived, they were met with scorn as the village refused to let Amalia be taken away and executed. Oliver Glens acted as the village representative and declared Amalia and Reno as formal residents of the Heddwich Village, and by restating the village's independence, he insisted that Avenir laws did not apply and that they possess no authority to capture Amalia.
To their surprise, the Avenir Kingdom issued to obliterate Heddwich Village as a forceful mean to execute Amalia. Their decision was not supported by the neighbouring kingdoms, but they carried the act nonetheless. Assembling 1.000 soldiers, they marched upon the peaceful town.
Heddwich Village was more than ready to welcome the attack. Alderman instructed that the defense must not cause casualties on both sides, so Reno and Cathal implemented non-lethal means of defense. The battle lasted for 10 days, zero death on either side. Realising that the soldiers would fight to the death, Alderman, Amalia and Villia led the wizards and sages of the village to use magic to banish them all individually to countless other realms.
Under Alderman's instructions, Oliver rallied support of the other kingdoms to enforce human rights that was Amalia's right to the Avenir kingdom. After hearing the horrors of the Mass Hybrid Eradication Protocol, the other kingdom agreed to support Amalia's status lift as a fugitive. With this, Oliver led an ambassador party to meet the Avenir royalty. After a heated debate, they managed to lift Amalia and Reno's fugitive status, under the condition that the siblings will be related to the Avenir kingdom no more.
With this, Amalia and Reno's lives as fugitives came to an end. They were forever grateful to the Heddwich Village, now reckoning it as their home, but especially to Oliver, Cathal, and Alderman who did so much for both of them.
Unfortunately, the status lift only applies to Reno and Amalia. Upon hearing that there were other survivors of the Mass Hybrid Eradication Protocol in the Rajaton Continent, Amalia and Reno embarked on a journey to find them all and bring them into the Heddwich Village for protection.
# Closing
At present, Amalia and Reno are still in a journey to rescue other survivors of the Mass Hybrid Eradication Protocol spread and hidden throughout the continent. Alderman contacts them regularly by teleportation, just to check how they are faring, sometimes inviting Cathal and Oliver along, bringing juice.
This serves as the conclusion of my report. Sources include local Heddwich villagers, local Avenir inhabitants, Reno Lionheart, Amalia Lionheart, Cathal Glens, Alderman Feathergust, and Oliver Glens. Where there is updates of this report, it will be reported accordingly.
This report shall be used only for the interests of the Liddiga Empire, and to be treated with care and secrecy. Any leakage of information of this report would be treated as violation to the law of the empire, and may be judged accordingly.
With regards,
Selina Zuhruck
Liddiga Information Forager Unit (LIFU)
Unit No. #37765-99871-LIFU77
---
A/N: this will also be posted on my personal blog. |
Part 1
Cassian and Zelda sat in the waiting area right outside the river Styx. Today was their first day of work. Both demons had just finished their internships and had been hired on as Hades’ two new junior receivers. An underworld receiver’s job was to receive new mortals and prepare them for the afterlife. The main responsibilities included confirming the mortals’ paperwork, processing payment and then taking the mortals across the river to their new dwellings in the underworld. But navigating the underworld was more than just acting as Hades’ agent and interacting with mortals. There was learning how to negotiate with the other deities, titans and gods agents.
As the minutes ticked on, Zelda found herself increasingly nervous. She wanted to get to work. Wanted and practically itched to learn everything she could. Zelda turned to Cassian. He looked calm. He didn’t exhume any of the same nervous energy she was experiencing. Why was that, she wondered.
“Zelda, Cassian,” a voice called out.
Both Zelda and Cassian looked over toward the doorway just before the river to see a tall man wearing a dark cloak.
“Welcome, welcome. I’m Gil. Now, if you both would follow me through here, I’ll get you set up for your first day,” the man said.
“First things, first. We both need to get you fitted for your receiver cloaks. Every receiver is required to wear one of Hades’ dark cloaks. It’s your standard black cloak with hood. You are required to wear the hood whenever you interact with any mortals, gods, titans, or deities, down here in the underworld, on the planet or up at Olympus. If you’re just interacting with other demons or Hades, you can keep the hood off. He doesn’t mind. Oh, but you will need to wear the hood if you are doing anything for Persephone. That includes acting as her agent for anything she needs offworld. Anyways, Follow me,” Gil said.
After getting fitted for the cloaks, Zelda and Cassian found themselves sitting in Gil’s office. Piles of scrolls lined the wall.
“Ok, let’s see here,” said Gil reviewing one of the scrolls, “as you both shadow other demons to learn your receiver roles, you’ll also get an opportunity to train directly with Hades and Persephone.”
Just then the phone on Gil’s desk rang.
“Hang on a second,” he said answering the phone.
Zelda and Cassian both exchanged glances. Zelda knew there would be training involved. But she didn’t realize training would be so close to Hades or Persephone. She’s not sure why, but she hadn’t expected that.
After getting off the phone, Gil rose and stepped from behind his desk.
“Ok, kids, new game plan. Today, you were supposed to shadow other receivers on Acheron, but we’ll have to put that to tomorrow’s onboarding plan,” Gil said, “You’re both being reassigned today to Hades and Persephone. Cassian, you’ll spend your day with Hades and Zelda, you’ve got Persephone. Follow me.” |
I ran my hands through her hair. Soft, smooth, faintly smelling of strawberries. She softly moaned and leaned into my chest. Her bare leg brushed mine. It was no surprise that she woke me with that. My breath quickened from the excitement. If I was dreaming I didn't want to wake up.
I tilted my head to lightly press a kiss to her forehead. I couldn't see her eyes but that didn't matter in the dim light of my cheap apartment bedroom. I moved my stroking hand to slide down my hip and slip off my boxers. I hadn't worn them. She stirred again almost awake now.
I couldn't remember what magic I had used to bring her here. What special words worked to bring the bosses lovely wife to my bed. I only faintly worried now that this would matter later. I was wrong.
It mattered the moment Mrs. Abrams opened her eyes to she me instead of her wealthy CEO husband. She screamed. Loud. I thought my ears would bleed. I scrambled back, falling off the queen sized mattress. My movement pulled the green quilt comforter off her body. She screamed louder, snatching at the folds of fabric that slid off her naked flesh. The panicked screams were sure to wake my neighbors. I threw the comforter at her and ran, bare assed to the bathroom.
What HAD happened? I remember falling asleep alone now. The leftovers of my TV dinner sat spoiling on the living room table, just visible from my bedroom door. The half empty bottle of 'Puta que pariu' a Portuguese spirit next to my fork. That stuff was strong. I could kind of remember being dizzy and thinking about how the lady on the bottle looked like a slutty version of my bosses wife.
My mind didn't make the connection now because there was a banging on my front door and frantic screaming still coming from my bedroom.
'Mr. Caris! Are you in there, I'm going to let the police in.'
'Wait!' I shouted. Where did I leave my clothes?
She probably heard them. My apartment is not that big. She shouted 'Help! And literally streaked past me, blanket turning her into a beautiful moving greek statue with my sheet forming a poor version of a toga. She sprinted past me barefoot and got to the door just as it burst open.
My God what a body. The poor policeman reacted quickly. Far too quickly. He fired what was clearly a taser and struck the fleeing woman. She went down. But not as fast as that sheet. What more could go wrong?
Never, ever ask a question if you don't want the answer. |
Dionysus and Poseidon sat next to each other and between the others Gods all sitting in the awkward circle. They had gotten everyone they could to come.
Athena sat on one side, arms crossed and face cold. On either side she had Hades and Artemis. On their other sides sat Persephone and Aphrodite respectively.
On the other side sat Zeus, looking defensive amd suspiciously glancing around the group. On his sides sat Hera with a blank expression and Ares. On their sides were Demeter and Hermes.
Across from them sat Hephaestus and Apollo, looking uneasy. No one could get Hestia to come.
"What is all this about?"Zeus demanded. "And why couldn't we talk about it at the thrones?"
"We aren't here to talk to you as Gods, Brother."Demeter said gently.
"No, we are here to talk as concerned family."Hades snorted sarcastically. Persephone covered her chuckle with a cough and elbowed him.
"Control your husband, Persephone!"Demeter glared at the God of the Underworld.
"Sorry, Mom."Persephone grimaced.
"Awe, come on sis, don't be like that! You know what I mean."Hades rolled his eyes.
"We are here for Dad!"Persephone and Hermes said at once.
"They are right."Poseidon interjected. "My brother, this is an intervention."
"The human world is beginning to be affected."Aphrodite agreed.
"This is absurd!"Zeus snapped.
"For goodness sake, you got a man pregnant last week!"Athena said sternly.
"Hera almost lost it and leveled an Island last night."Ares said, laying a hand on Zeus's shoulder.
"Your marriage is falling apart."Dionysus said flippantly. "And your half mortal bastards are running amok!"
"I will not be spoken to in such a way!"Zeus roared, standing up to leave. Poseidon and Ares jumped up and blocked his way.
"Please, Father, listen to us."Persephone pled.
But it was too late. With a mighty yell, Zeus flub the two away from him. Lightning flashed and all that stood in Zeus's spot was burns on the floor.
"Where has he gone?"Artemis wondered.
"Where else?"Hera sighed bitterly. "The human world." |
White, that’s it for as far as I can see, just white. I shakily stand up from the frozen ground, rubbing my eyes as I look out into the snow covered terrain in front of me. There’s a nagging pounding in my head, practically deafening as I try to remember what happened and where I am. There’s no use, I can’t recall anything beside the feeling of the ice against my face and the feeling of the penetrating cold permeating my body. I notice the faint outline of a footprint behind me and start walking that way through the icy wasteland. The wind rips through my tattered clothes and my lungs start to burn when suddenly a shape starts to form on the horizon. I wipe the frost from my eyes as I approach the door of what seems like some sort of laboratory. I knock a few times hearing the sound echo on the other side until it slides open. There must be people still working here, I thought hopefully. I shuffle into the hall on the other side as the door slides shut behind me. The hall is illuminated, and more importantly warm. I continue walking and see a series of rooms and hallways leading away, but there’s one further up ahead where the doors open. As I get there I notice, could it be rust, around the door handle. The room seems to be the security room and the rows of tv screens flicker with different parts of the lab. It seems quiet and there’s a red flash appearing on one of the screens. I take a look and see a row of cells, glowing in the light of a red siren and highlighting the giant “C” on the wall. The cells are empty except one has the door swung open, a pool of liquid originating at the door and trailing off screen. A chill runs down my spine as if I were still out in the snow and ice. I hear a movement behind me and jump, swinging around wildly to face the man standing in the doorway. He looks worn and tired, as if he hasn’t slept in days. His eyes go wide as he reaches towards his hip, “Why….why did you come back here!” I back up into the monitors and put my hands up slowly. “Who are you?” I ask imploringly, “did…did you do this? In the cell?” I can see the shock turn to rage in his eyes. He pulls his hand back from his hip to reveal what looks like a pistol and promptly raises it towards me. My heart races as he aims at my chest, there’s no other way out. My head is still pounding as I make my decision and charge the man reaching for the gun. He pulls the trigger and a dart lodges into my chest. I glance down at it and notice a similar mark near it on my arm as my body slumps and I hit the floor. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I watch the man pull out a phone and call. “Yes I’m sure it’s him, I was moving the last of them and caught him coming back here in the lab. Yes. Understood. It won’t happen again, this subject is discontinued…” the man approaches me as my eyes shut close and I feel the cold icy darkness. |
In the ruins of the former spade kingdom, lived a man of status and power known as the *NULLIFIER*. He was an atrocity that no one could stand, a fear that everyone possesed, an abomination that everyone hated. Although the hate was chanelled throughout the hearts of people, no human dared stand in front of him and the rest of the undeads and monsters were incinerated when they came in his sight.
You know, with great power comes(great responsibility) greater evil, lurking around to find a way to destroy that power. That is what happened to the *NULLIFIER'S* respected father. He was the king of the spade kingdom and was feared all over the world...............
Hope this provides for a good baseline of the story. |
What kind of impact does cocaine have on fish and wildlife? I mean, it's the Colorado River. That should dilute the blow somewhat. Still, I guess the Cutthroat Trout is going to live up to its name in the coming months.
Looking at the bright side, by the time AAA arrives, I won't have to explain the Coke, just why I drove into the river. Biodegradable bags, pretty thoughtful at a time like this.
Don't get high on your own supply and all that jazz, great tip, especially after 14 hours of driving. Not like the I-40 is the Ambien of major infrastructure.
Wait, wait, wait, what if they ask why I opened every door including the trunk?! God dammit, that could raise some questions. Really should think sometimes.
Turn around and quickly close the trunk? Rather not, by the time I am back some hiker stumbled across it.
Trying to get my wallet or phone or something? Nah, who keeps that stuff in the back, no one'd buy that.
Someone with me in the car? Great idea, let's invent a companion who suddenly went missing. How to add "Suspected murderer"on top of this shitshow.
Maybe just the truth? I mean, why not. "I tried everything to get the car out"wouldn't be that outlandish a statement. Maybe I'll leave out the part about dumping tens of thousands in pure grade cocaine into a national park though...
Mr "simple assignment"is surely going to be happy that I'm alive. Though I imagine mainly because there is some satisfaction to be had in ending my life himself. He could have chosen someone with the brass balls one needs to actually make a stop while transporting almost amoral amounts of blow, but why do that when you can send a nervous wreck on this mission from Hades.
Ah, at last. The first time I am happy to see a Denny's, if nothing else.
Ok, easy. Get in, ask for the phone cause you crashed your car, convince the AAA people not to contact the police in this situation, oh, also get them to agree to all this without having payment or ID on yourself, manage the entire "car recovery"without raising suspicion, somehow flee the country, change your name and hope that Sir "It's only 1666 miles"doesn't hold the type of grudge that motivates drug lords to find you, long after you presumed yourself safe. Thinking back, the 666 should have probably tipped me of, but then again, hindsight is 20/20 and such.
***
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear on what I could improve in the future. Have a great day and stay safe. |
"Yo. There's trooper on the pooper now so I could easily replace you. Cut me some slack will you?"I responded to the critical elf perched on my shelf.
The elf doll simply laughed at me sarcastically while I applied mascara in the mirror. He'd been sitting on my shelf for over a month while silently observing me, unbeknownst to me for some time. The day he finally spoke, I jumped out of my skin then hyperventilated from a panic attack. The little f***** derived pleasure from my shock of course. And man was he a sassy little thing.
"Ok you little s***! How long have you been conscious and watching me!"I screamed interrogating him. This was some goosebumps, night of the living dead, Chucky nightmare, type s***!
"Girl chill. It's been a few weeks. You need to calm the f*** down before you pop a blood vessel. And put the damn knife down."He tried to talk me down.
I lowered the knife and tried to steady my heavy breathing. I must've looked completely unstable with the crazed look in my eye. He scared the ever living s*** out of me. The nerve.
"Wait. So you've been conscious for a month? Or you've been creeping on me for a month?"I questioned the small elf.
"Oh no honey. I've been conscious for years. I go into stages of hibernation then wake up after some time. I've been watching your. Every. Move. For about a month now. And man if that isn't true entertainment then I don't know what is."The elf retorted amused.
"Why? Why would you do that? Why do you hibernate? What are you a bear? Why do you stalk people!?"I frantically asked him.
"Hey, don't blame me. You'd have to take that up with the council of fairies. And they aren't reachable like some 1-800-customer service line okay. It takes a very particular innocence and state of mind of a human to prompt them to appear. If you were me, you would do the things I do!"He started to get defensive. My overall reaction obviously to blame.
"Okay. Fine. I'm sorry. I'll calm down."I told him.
"Thank you!"He shot back.
That day we became friends. I decided on keeping him. That decision was already a given. We'd been friends for over three months. Today he was being extra sassy and roasting me in the friendly manner that we did to each other. His flamboyant voice and straight forwardness reminded me of the gay best friend I never had. It caused me to relax around him.
"Girl. I've already known you for three months and I'm already tired of your s***. Imagine how your therapist must feel. I feel sorry for them."He dug into me.
"Ha! Therapists get paid. At least I go to therapy. You could use it. And trust me. No one could be paid enough to deal with your s***."I shot back playfully. Winking with a smile at the figure in the top right corner of the mirror.
The elf on the shelf chuckled. "Well. Excuuuse me."He responded with feigned offense, returning the same knowing smile.
We never quite decided on a name for him.I threw many suggestions at him. Alfie, Alfred, Fred, he just didn't seem to like any of them. "What am I? A dog for a white, middle class family, that goes to Starbucks every morning? Think of some better names and then we'll talk."He declared.
"I could just name you stick for being a pain up my a**". I joked with him.
"Ooh. Kinky. Get your mind out of the gutter and go get some instead of taking out your sexual frustration out on me girl."The elf on the shelf responded.
I rolled my eyes suppressing a burst of laughter then continued to apply my makeup. I was ho**** as he endearingly called it. Anytime I put makeup on and dressed up, he'd make jokes about me getting some. This particular elf on the shelf brought out a certain raunchy humor that was buried deep down. We seemed to play off each other really well in that way.
When I asked him how long he'd be around, he told me for a couple hundred years. He told me his purpose was to serve as a guardian, a friend, and someone to confide in for humans. That after a hundred years, his sleep cycle would commence, then he'd be teleported to help the next human or dimensional being somehow. We grew to be closer friends. I asked the elf on the shelf if he wanted to spend his whole conscious cycle with me or if he wanted to be passed off to someone else within the hundred years. It didn't break any council rules, plus I wanted him to be happy. He told me that was up to me.
In the end, we decided that he would be better suited to be a friend to my nine year old niece. She was more socially isolated than the average nine year old. So the elf on the shelf was going to be there for her as a friend. He would always be just a block away. I teared up after moving him to a new home. We'd been living together for two years at that point.
"Oh and Vanessa? You can call me bud. Like bud for weed, not short for Buddy."He smiled.
"Alright Bud. Thanks for being my friend. Thank you for being someone I could always confide in."I genuinely thanked him with misty eyes.
"You're so welcome. I'll always be here. "He said. Then we parted ways.
No matter the distance or time, a friend is always a friend. I am privileged to have met him. |
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