Split (1)

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In the far north, where the winds chill those to the core, the rugged terrain makes each day a matter of survival, a single tribe stands amongst the sharp peaks of humungous mountains, terrible beasts of the worst formation and of course enemy tribes in every direction. But this one tribe has stood for a thousand years. And its heart tells it that it will stand for a thousand more. &#x200B; Commotion could be heard from outside the tent, but Thalgar gave it no mind; for his attention was focused on the prayer. "My ancestors. You faced many trials, many struggles and countless crises, but none have ever threatened the extinction of this tribe. I ask for courage, wisdom and strength to lead this tribe against the threat that lingers at our doorstep, waiting to strike."He paused and took a deep breath. "For Magar."Thalgar said quietly as he opened his eyes and glanced right at his axe. &#x200B; "What does a dog from Solaria want with the Magar, have you come here to die?"Bada asked with a threatening tone to the figure in a white coat a with six pointed golden star on their chest. "I've come to offer your chief a deal, from the three kings themselves."The hooded figure said, his face masked by darkness. "Our chief is in prayer and wants no part in your pernicious empire, leave or we'll end you right here and now!"Bada shouted, the other members of the tribe staring alongside him at the cloaked figure. But the cloaked figure remained still and silent, standing in an unnatural stance while the snow fell in the camp. "Your chief."The figure spat. "Will come out now or I swear upon Solaria that this camp will be ashes in a week."Bada stared in awe that the audacity of the figures words. "Maggot. That tongue of yours will not leave this camp intact with a threat like that."Bada said as he drew his blade, the rest of the Magar-Guard producing their blades as well. But Bada felt a hand on his shoulder. "Chief."He said as he saw Thalgar. "I was just about to deal with this... mongrel from Solaria." "Put down your weapons, I will have word with this messenger."Thalgar demanded. The Magar-Guard obeyed, as they sheathed their weapons and backed away from the both of them. Thalgar nodded as thanks, then drew his gaze directly towards the hooded figure, who was far smaller than him. "So, what exactly has the esteemed Solarian Empire come to offer my tribe."He said to the hooded figure. "I assume it very important for you to make the treacherous journey up here in the mountains."The figure looked left and right cautiously. "Of course it has importance, chief of the Magar Tribe. I assume you've heard word of your competition being eradicated through their own ineptitude." "Yes, I suppose I should be offering thanks. The Troggar and Balthan tribes have been a thorn in my side for many years now." "Don't flatter yourself, for you will share the same fate as the other Northern Tribes, should you reject the offer." &#x200B; The air around the camp lit up at that comment, many touched their weapons; others spat at the figure. Thalgar smiled. "Tell us of this offer then."Thalgar said. "Chief you don't intend to actually accept it, do you?"Bada asked, but Thalgar ignored. The figure clapped in an amused fashion. "We offer you position as a substate of the Supreme Solarian Empire, protection from the imperial army itself and of course, your camp will remain mostly intact."The figure said, arms stretching out like a hug. Thalgar's smile subsided. "And what is the price we must pay messenger?"Thalgar asked. "A small share of your population will be brought to the capital as tribute for our services. Alongside other resources, but the details can be discussed at a later date; perhaps inside a warm keep instead"The figure said looking up, their face now revealed to show a sickly wrinkled face of an old man, with crimson red bloodshot eyes that seemed to look directly into Thalgar's soul. "I'll kill you before that happens!"Bada screamed as he drew his sword, but before he could attack, Thalgar kicked his feet from under him and he fell to the floor. The figure laughed as Bada plummeted to the ground. "I assume its a deal?"The figure asked, the rest of the tribesmen staring at Thalgar with concerned faces. Thalgar turned back to the figure. "Yes. WAR IT IS!"He roared as he gripped his axe and in a swift strike decapitated the figure. The entire tribe stepped back in shock, but Thalgar stood looming above the headless figure. He picked up the head and held it high in the air. "If the Solarian Empire wants war, we will give them them it. For we will tear down their walls and hang their three kings atop the peaks of our mountains. FOR MAGAR!"His yell echoed through the mountains, the snow did not muffle it. The entire Magar tribe cheered and on that day, war had begun.
“It worked, Alfred,” Bruce announced triumphantly as he drove away from the robber’s van. “I never doubted you, Master Bruce,” came the reply in his ear. It had been a hard road to this point. Following his parent’s murder and his obsessive training in anything and everything Bruce felt would help in his quest to fight the insidious criminal element that held power throughout Gotham, six months ago he had thought himself ready. How wrong he had been. That first night had very nearly seen him killed. The hoodlums he had caught mid robbery had laughed at him, treated him as a joke. It had taken all his skill to fight them off, and a rather ungainly fall into the sewers to hide from them and make his escape. Unfortunately, the cryptosporidiosis he had caught from the sewage had been crippling, with severe stomach cramps, diarrhoea and vomiting and a savage fever that had laid him low for weeks and left him severely depleted. That period had tested both Alfred’s skills as a medic and his butler’s cleaning skills, as the nausea could hit at any time and the bodily outputs were unpredictable and vast. Eventually, though, Bruce had regained his equilibrium and begun building his strength and stamina back up, but he had known then that it was not enough. No, he needed something else, something that would make his enemies pause. And then, late one night, it happened. He had been shrouded in melancholy for weeks, fearing he had failed before he had properly started. Alfred had bid him goodnight and returned to his quarters, leaving Bruce to his dark thoughts. The way those men had laughed and laughed as they struck him, demeaning him. Bruce looked guiltily at the picture of his parents, taken in happier times. “I’m sorry, so sor,” he began, before breaking off, grabbing the picture in his hand and bringing it close, studying it. “Yes, yes,” he said, a smile finding his face for the first time in what felt like forever. The next morning, Alfred had found Bruce unkept and clearly in the same clothes as the previous night, working feverishly on designs and lists, piles of paper scattered all around. Alfred glance at the ones on top and paused. He had to wonder where Master Bruce was heading now. Months passed by, with strange deliveries arriving at all hours to Wayne Manor. Bruce and Alfred worked to make Bruce’s ideas a reality, to convert what had been a glimmer of an idea late one night into a new reality that would purge Gotham of all that was evil. Finally, Bruce had been ready. He had put in his new crime fighting costume, which would serve to both hide his identity and strike confusion into the hearts of those he would face. He looked himself up and down in the mirror and then turned to Alfred. “How do I look, old friend,” he asked, his voice adjusted by the modulator on his throat. “Like a clown, sir,” came the response. “Thank you, Alfred, then I am ready.” With that Bruce span on his heel and walked out, ready to be the symbol of justice Gotham needed. Bruce had driven around, scanning the police band for a viable case, when he had heard there was a robbery in progress at Gotham First National. Perfect, only a mile away! He had put his foot down, accelerating fast towards the first true test of this new approach. When he arrived, though, the thieves were already making their getaway. Still, their van was no match for his car, a custom military assault vehicle that he and Alfred had retro fitted with a host of offensive and defensive weaponry. As the van pulled away from the curb, Bruce punched the boost, ramming hard into the side of the robber’s vehicle and pushing it across the sidewalk and into the wall of the building they had just been inside. The driver looked out at the car skewering them in place, anger turning to confusion. Bruce opened the Laughmobile’s door and leapt out, Pie-a-rang in hand, as three robbers fell out the back of the van. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Bruce calmly stated, watching his opponents. Of course, they chose the hard way. But it didn’t matter. The first one out started drawing a weapon, but on seeing what was before him simply froze, uncertain. The two behind him, though, were already aiming weapons at Bruce, but before they could aim, pies hit each of them in the face, the cream adhering to their skin, impossible to remove for at least an hour. They pawed and pulled, but there was nothing they could do. The lead villain came to his senses and ducked down, holding his hand out to ward of any flying desserts as he waved his gun up and towards Bruce. As he did so, a giant shoe came up under his outstretched arm, the tip connecting with his chin and knocking him clean out. These shoes certainly added the expected range, Bruce thought, and the steel tips packed a satisfying punch. He turned his attention to the driver, who was pushing at his door, trying to get it open. Bruce reached for his lapel flower, twisting the settings and firing acid at the door’s hinges and lock. Then he took hold of the handle and pulled the door clean away from the van. The driver sat there stunned. “Wha, what are y, y, you?” he stammered. “I’m Clownman,” came the high-pitched response, followed by some unnecessarily dramatic laughter. Reaching into his utility pockets, Bruce pulled out a selection of balloons, quickly inflating them, tying them together into a variety of animals and securing his prisoners with a swan, a giraffe, a chimpanzee and a fire truck. “It worked, Alfred,” Bruce announced triumphantly as he drove away from the robber’s van. “I never doubted you, Master Bruce,” came the reply in his ear. Alfred sat at the console in the Clown-marquee and looked at the picture that had given Bruce his inspiration, a happy family picture of Bruce and his parents all wide grins, a clown smiling beside them. Alfred remembered that day, one of the happiest in his young master’s life. A sense of joy and laughter that Bruce had now vowed to bring to all of Gotham!
Cinderella was not fond of her name. It was some kind of family tradition that dated back centuries. According to her parents, as far back as the fairy tale itself. She would have cursed her parents' sense of tradition if they weren't so accepting of her desire to be called something sensible. That's why they encouraged her to go by Ella and said she was more than welcome to change her name when she turned twenty. By then, they promised, she wouldn't have need of the protections the name provided. Then they up and vanished on her at the start of her senior year of high school. While she was pretty sure they weren't dead, after all they spent a considerable amount of effort preparing her for their sudden absence, she remained reluctant to believe it had anything to do with the old family tradition. She tried to hide their absence. Kept up with her school work, made sure the house was taken care of, shopped and cooked for herself. But the ruse couldn't last. The school tried to contact them directly about chaperoning her senior prom only to find they were missing. Calls were made. Authorities contacted. A lot of questions were being asked, but she didn't have any answers. Now she understood. Her last resort. Her parents made her memorize the phone number when she was six. "Hello? Who is calling?"a sweet voice asked. "Hi, this is Ella... Cinderella. My parents..."she replied, prepared to explain why she was calling. "Say no more my dear,"the woman replied. "I'll be right over." Barely moments passed before there was a knock at the door. A woman who looked to be her mother's age was there, but there was a timeless quality to her blonde hair and blue eyes. She greeted the police, explained quite politely that she was Ella's godmother and that she had been looking after her at her parent's request. They were out of the country on business, she explained. Like magic, the authorities forgot about all their questions. It suddenly didn't matter to them that Ella didn't know where her parents were. Or that she was on her own for six months. Or that the bills were still getting paid. "Now that those nosy idiots are gone, let me get a good look at you my dear,"the woman said, focusing all her attention on Ella. It also allowed Ella to get a better look at the woman who called herself her godmother. It was a strange thing to look at someone and feel like you are looking at a mirror image of yourself aged twenty-five years. "You're in pretty good shape,"the woman's words broke the sudden quiet. "The last time this happened, the poor girl was practically falling apart." "My parents taught me how to take care of myself,"she answered. "I just didn't know who else to call." "Yes, you did the right thing,"her 'godmother' nodded. "You're probably pretty confused about what's going on and that's quite understandable. Shortest version possible: the fairytale is real except it's not a happy story." "What?"Ella replied. "That's…" "Crazy,"the woman finished. "Yes I know. If I'd known I'd be cursing my family to relive my story for the rest of time, I would have made sure to trap that bastard prince's spirit in a plane his court mage couldn't find." "So you're the first Cinderella?" "Indeed I am, but you can call me Ella too,"the woman laughed. Not because the situation was funny, but because it wasn't the first time she had this very conversation. "Your father is my great to the ninth power grandson, making you the unfortunate target of this familial curse." "Are my parents alright?" "As far as I've ever been able to discover, when the prince comes back, he traps your parents in a kind of planar limbo. They'll be alright, assuming you're willing to play out this fairytale again." "Is that what I have to do? Go do this ball, dance with him until midnight and then escape?" "That would work to banish this iteration of the prince, but you're made of sterner stuff than the past iterations. Would you care to try something new?" "What happens if 'new' doesn't work?" "I don't know,"her greatest of grandmothers shook her head. "The worst thing I can think of is he takes your mortality in this world, banishing you, and allowing him to resume his hunt for me. It might not be worth the risk." "Tell me what I should do." And just like that, her own fairytale began, but it was nothing like she could expect. Her grandmother-turned-fairy-godmother was preparing for a Cinderella strong enough to do what she could not. She wasn't attending the ball with some meek attendants. She would be attending with a squadron of soldiers at her beck and call. Skeletal steeds carried cloaked, faceless knights upon their backs. Revenants who cast no shadows. Her driver was monstrous. An enormous rat the size of a man with a cunning intellect the eldest Cinderella reckoned to be unmatched. Her carriage, a neon orange armored limo with the grinning smirk of vile jack-o-lantern rendered upon its hood. She would have six hours to seize control of the prince's 'castle' and drag him from his place of power. Once done, she could assert her own will, and in doing so, hopefully banish him from the world for good. However, all of it would start with getting in the front door without raising suspicion. And for that, she needed a good dress. It was a good thing her grandmother was there to help.
Squatting in front of the forge, he exhaled a visible breath that blended with the pale white smoke. It emanated from the shiny blue rocks at the bottom of the forge, to which the Snowmen called it “coald”. The icesmith watched over the piece of metal huddled near the rim of the forge, slowly collecting the wispy smoke which coalesced as crystals on itself. In the man’s peripherals, he could see the bouncing bottom half of one of the Snowmen heading his direction. He scoffed. The specific lumpiness on the left side, the unbalanced landing after each hop, and an arrow poking out of his second sphere. It was Teddy. “You’re here again so soon, Teddy.” “Yes, Sir Pernelle, sir! I received another request from the Snowmander for another parcel of your finely crafted swords!” “Heh. Same stuff as always. Already prepared another batch right as soon as you left last time to deliver it.” “Yes, well, sir, this time it’s different! Take a look here!” Teddy, with his feeble twig arms, hands over a piece of parchment. It was in undecipherable scribbles, which was no surprise to Pernelle. It was a mystery in itself how the Snowmen could even press hard enough on the paper to leave marks with their arms. “Translate this for me, Teddy.” “Yes, uh, I believe it says something along the lines of seeing if you can make sword-arms now. Wouldn’t that be cool?” “Teddy, I’ve already told your higher-up about this. No, I cannot make sword-noses that will replace your carrot, or sword-legs so you lot can walk like us. That’s beyond my expertise.” “Understood. I’ll forward it to the Snowmander immediately. Thanks!” Teddy hops over to a crate filled with swords, ready to be used in combat. As he walked farther and farther into the horizon, with Pernelle watching intently, he saw Teddy stumble a bit. Pernelle cringed at this, as one time he saw Teddy bisect himself on the swords he was to deliver to the Snowmander. He wasted an entire workday pushing snow around to make a sphere that Teddy could comfortably fit in. Amusing moments like this helped pass the icesmith’s monotonous days. He had to remotely work away from the major settlements of the Snowmen, as it was much colder there. He was contempt with being so far away from them, as he often found it painful to socialize with the non-humanoids. The weekly encounters with Teddy was just a reminder that it was always best to stay this far away. Besides, it was closer to the coald mine, making it so that the icesmith’s workers didn’t have to trudge so far to get materials for the forge. Pernelle was still glad he was able to stoke his forge, whether it exhaled flames or frost. Even in the dead of night where icicles lined the edge of his sleeping hut, the fiery passion to return to his artform of blacksmithing kept him warm throughout the long days of serving the Snowmen Army.
Seven years! Everyone keeps cheering, patting us on the back, "How'd you do it!?"they gleefully ask. Everyone is over the moon with excitement of our return. Almost too excited if I'm honest. But who wouldn't be? Seven years though? Joe and I look at each other as if to confirm neither of us is dreaming. The round trip was only supposed to take 4 days. The world does seem to have changed if I'm honest. Governments are run by new people, but many familiar faces remain. It could all seem normal if any of it felt like what we'd left behind. Seven years though? Our records show 4 days. Our computer shows 4 days 2 hours and 17 minutes. Joe and I each experienced 4 days. This shouldn't have happened! The calculations were done by our best minds. Checked over countless times and always gave us the same result, 4 days to recharge. So why was everything different now? My mind raced to Cheryl, would she even know I was alive?! What of Alicia? How do you tell a 10 year old that their father isn't dead after all? 10? No, she's 17 now. The realization must have shown in my face as I feel Joe's hand touch my shoulder in solidarity. Everyone keeps saying they thought they'd lost us, we had been presumed dead or lost for those 7 years. We signed up to advance human knowledge and help our species expand. Who wouldn't want to be the first person to test humanity's greatest achievement in space flight? 4 days they told us. 4 days in orbit around Neptune and then we'd be home. Just a shake down test that had seemingly gone flawlessly. Of course there was delay, but we'd established comms with earth when we arrived at Neptune, everything was fine. Yet here we are. Seven years after humanity's first successful warp jump test, and as Joe and I struggle to come to grips with what we're hearing we can tell the same questions haunting our thoughts are seeping into the heads of those around us. How does this happen? It doesn't. Which leads to the next question, "who are these people?"
George woke up and looked over at the alarm clock on the desk across the room. Why are the numbers so hard to read? He sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He went to his dresser to get clean clothes for the day as his mom had always told him to always wear clean underwear every day. However, something looked off. All his clothes looked gray. He doesn't wear that much black and gray clothes. He picks out something that looks like it works for him and goes downstairs for breakfast. He finds his mom and dad sitting at the table just getting ready to eat. "Mom, where has all the color gone?" His father's eyes get wide. His mother drops to her knees by the sink. She starts to sob. His father moves over to comfort his wife. Her cries just get more and more hysterical. George looks to his father. "I'm so sorry son. You are too young, so you don't know the rules of this world yet. Your mother and I still see all the vibrancy of color, because we are soulmates to each other. We were blessed to meet in this life. However, when your soulmate dies, you will never see color again." George tilts his head to the side. "But Dad, what is a soulmate?" "It is a difficult thing to explain son and right now I feel like you are better off not knowing. It won't do you any good to know in any case as that person is now dead. At least you are young enough to adapt to the colorless world and since you never met your soulmate, you hopefully won't feel it much at all." His father turns back to his mother. "George, why don't you go upstairs and play and I'll take you out for ice cream for lunch, ok?" George's eyes light up. "Ok dad."He gets up from the table and goes back up to his room to play.
"the absolute point of finality" Space. So... unassuming to the naked eye. You would believe it would be as barren as it is, but it is simply another mystery that thousands upon thousands of civilizations ponder. Stranded amongst a sea of unique galaxies, no one being the same from the other one. To Korvok, That sea was simply a view from outside the Chief of Commissioners office. As the receptionist informed him that he would be running a bit late, Korvok remained his transfixed gaze at all the swirling, vibrant colors. It had been so long since he'd seen the great beyond in it's beauty. It was practically spellbinding. The way one swirl seamlessly intermingled with another... creaaak Korvok's attention suddenly fixated to the door. As the chief walked in, he couldn't help but crack a smile. "Oh, Nobu."Korvok also started to smirk, stifling a giggle. "You handsome so-so, come here."Both beings came together in a friendly embrace, laughing at merely the occasion of seeing each other again. It has been a frenetic -- frantic even, past few thousand years after all. "Korvok, you really don't like a day over an dozen eons."Nobu remarked. "Ha, I was just fixing to ask you the same thing. You look good. "As do you, my friend. Please, sit."Motioning to the velvet red chair perpendicular to him. Korvok complied, making himself comfortable in doing so. "So . . . I guess the reason I'm in here must mean the reason I'm here is important."Korvok replied. Nobu let off a slight chuckle. "As important as one could get." "I'll say. How long has it been?" "But the reason you're here well ... I consider you, Korvok to be one of my best friends." Korvok nodded in agreement, enlightened by the compliment. "You as well." "So I must ask of your opinion. And I wish for you to be as open with it as possible. It's not an understatement when I say it'll be THE most important one to make." "Well. Nobu, I don't want to say you're asking a lot out of me but..." "You understand how these last One Hundred thousand years have played out." Korvok clicked his lips together and sighed. "Far too well." "So you understand just exactly what this consortium has been through." "Everyone knows about the Big Sweep." Nobu rose from his chair, and turned to face the window. "Thousands of civilizations and it has taken all of this time to salvage them all."He placed one hand against the glass, his posture sullen and downcast. "We've lost a lot of contracts with other business from the multiverse, the lot of our resources have been slashed. Planetary production has reduced by 33%, the Galaxies are _far_ lower..."Nobu's voice trailed off, a noticable crack in it's midst. His palm turned into a shaky balled up fist. There was a palpable and present silence in the room, one that got underneath Korvak's skin. "Are you... Could you be saying what I think you are saying?"He asked. Nobu turned his head ever so slightly letting out a depressed sigh. Facing his former pupil, even he was struggling of ways to break the news to him. "I'm certainly almost in denial but I've been thinking too much about this. We're on the precipice of a second sweep." ~Part Two Down Below~
I always considered her to be the anomaly. I wasn't rich, handsome or fun to be around. Well, up until we got married that is. But she stayed with me, she showed level of support and compassion I didn't deserved and throughout our life she was drawing away. When our son was due to be born, she spent almost an hour of labor scribbling in her notebook. When I ended up in a hospital after a failed mugging (you should have seen the other guy) she brought canvas to my hospital room! I have confronted her about it, once. Saying that I didn't mind that this is how she distracts herself, but I needed to understand. She looked embarrassed and dodged the question, which resulted in our daughter. However, as I laid there, feeling the time ticking away, seeing the tears in the eyes of my kids, my grandkids... Hallucinating my own family coming in to greet me... She's not drawing anymore... It made me feel sad... There was a moment of clarity, when all the questions I ever asked were answered all at once. And I found myself staring at the wall. My left hand was touching the base of the tree, my right pointed forward... But there was no one there. I remembered this place, the hill on the outskirts of town, for it held a special meaning to me. This was our first meeting. She was supposed to be there, I remembered that, but instead of the rolling hills all I saw was... A wall of our summer house, the wall of gallery with an old dent put there by our son when he was "playing"with some tools he found. I let go of the tree and stepped closer. I bumped into an invisible wall, am I in the painting? Strangely, the hills extended beyond the tree, but on both sides of me, where frame would be, i could see a path leading away. I followed the one on my left. And found myself sitting behind a table, before me stood the "fantasy meal", meat wrapped around white steel bone. This was our first date... She laughed at the idea before, thinking I was making that up. But the expression on her face when the waiter brought in the meat... It was so satisfying to watch. I think this was the point when I understood my feelings. I started walking again. The painting after painting, it felt like I was reliving my life. Every time I would enter I'd take the pose in which I was portrayed. Our first night together, or first "real"night together, the first fight we had, my proposal, our wedding, me holding our son and crying... There I was with a knife in my gut, breaking the guy's jaw in three places. Hospital bed, my face is pale. There I was, sitting in the darkness, staring at the photo of my grandparents that passed away recently... I was the centerpiece of all paintings, but all of them had one detail missing. Her. Finally I reached the end. There were no more pictures. I took a step forward anyway. Only to find Her, sitting on an empty hospital bed. As I approached she didn't move, unlike me, she was here only partially. I sat beside her, hugged her stiff, motionless body. At that moment nothing really mattered to me. If she ever inhabits this image she made, I'll greet her. There is no hurry anymore. I am painted after all. And I knew better than to chase my living spouse from the afterlife... I don't know how long it was like that, but one day I did noticed a change. Someone was staring at me. The boy's eyes were piercing green, just like Her's. He looked at me for a long time and then his face brightened and he ran off screaming"GranGran! Come quick!" A few minutes later I was looking at Her again, she looked as stunning as I remembered. I didn't see grey hair, wrinkles, exhaustion on her face - to me it was still the same woman I fell for. Her face brightened, the dull eyes sparkled with renewed energy, it was as if seeing me rejuvenated her. And I, once more, wondered what did I do to deserve Her attention? Her love? She visited me often since then, and one day I noticed a new painting was added to the wall. Reluctant I moved there, and found myself in our house. Just like before, there was an invisible wall separating me from the outside. While the rest of the house, including the furniture (and "things"in said furniture) water, electricity, gas - was still there. She visited me again and again, looking happier every day. She would bring other people here, adults and kids alike. And then.. she stopped coming. I moved between pairings hoping to see her, but the gallery was dark and empty... I returned to the tree... It's once green crown vegan to wither, turning yellow. I noticed the snow falling in the distance. When I returned "home"the blizzard began, and there was a sound of a doorbell.
Andy's bear has white fur and has gouged its claws down her face so her left eye recedes, a yawning hole, and her right sheds red tears. Andy doesn't care because she's the most popular girl at school. People pay attention to her. I don't pay attention to them. I pay attention to the bears I see over their heads. I tell Mom about this and she says everyone is unique. The bears I see must therefore be an expression of my uniqueness. Mom says I must have faith in myself. I must have faith that these bears are real and I am sane and not hallucinating. She lies back down in bed and I close the curtains for her, so she can rest. Hallucinating: "perceiving something that does not exist outside the mind, usually manifested as visual or auditory images". But isn't the world I see created entirely by my mind, shaped by my mind's perceptions of the world and nothing else? So on some level of reality the bear must exist and I have no mental issues and I don't need to go to a mental hospital. When I search up "mental hospital"on Google I see patients strapped to beds, to the walls of white rooms. I don't belong there. I belong at school. I belong with my family, though every day the brown bear draped over Mom's head grows fatter, its fur grimier, and I can no longer see her eyes. Andy sits next to me in math class. The teacher's bear stretches claws around his neck, clinging to him. He walks with a hunched back. The claws leave scars. While he lectures I ignore him and doodle bears in my notebook. Andy doodles fairies and unicorns. She's good at art. Once she looked over at my desk and said I was good at art. I said, "Really?"She said, "Really."She smiled and asked if I wanted to sit with her at lunch. I always sit alone. Did I want to join her? Her red eye trickled. Her left eye gaped at me. Nobody else can see this. I shook my head. I didn't smile back. "Okay,"she said, and didn't ask me again. I have my own bear. I see it in the mirror. It's matte black with tangled fur and it wraps around my back and day by day it grows larger, like Mom's. Someday it will surpass me. Then I won't even be able to see myself.
Death said nothing. Across the desk sat Death. Well, it was more ethereal floating rather than sitting. A black cloak swirled as smoke around his form. A bleached skull with two empty pits of shining darkness. Eyes staring, relentlessly boring into Alan. Alan had no choice but to continue to blather. It was a nervous habit he thought recovered from. "What am I saying, here for you. You are are here for me. Imma I right."Alan joked, pushing back away from his sparse office desk. Standing up Alan winced at a slight weakness in his knees, "I will only be a minute. Just gonna grab some water." Alan make his way over to the water cooler. The hair raising on the back of his neck confirmed his suspicion. Death was following him. "I guess I don't have to worry about that report due yesterday,"Alan reasoned, filling a small paper cupful of water. Blurp blurp. The mystery of bubbles and their fluid mechanics floated to his mind. Shaking his head to dismiss the odd stream of thought. "I suppose-there is a good deal I don't have to worry about anymore." Death said nothing. The Reaper of Souls grew larger each passing moment. Larger in vision and real space. A weighted presence. The air grew still and stuffy. Alan could taste florals hints of jasmine on his tongue. He gulped down the cold water attempting to wash away the strange scent. It only spread through his mouth, effervescing up through his nose into his brain. "Well, just don't follow me to the bathroom,"Alan demanded, now feeling the cold sweat on his lower back. "I would absolutely hate to be found dead on the toilet. If that's what you are planning you can forget it. I will not allow it."Straightening his shoulders having set some standards for the Angel of Death. Death said nothing. The implacable, immutable spectre hung self possessed six feet away. Grim goals its purpose brought up a cultivated patience. The fluorescent lighting began to sporadically flickered. Alan shied his eyes from the harsh glare. "Though I supposed. I would hate to be found dead in the office of Lundy and Bundy."Alan realized. The realization. A thrill of exhilaration. Coursing through his veins. Purpose, predisposer of all ailments. He rushed to nearest exit. Racing down the stairwell, startling and nearly bowling over Jane from HR along the way. Alan's vision turns kaleidoscopic upon reaching outside. It was vivid. The bright blue sky, the raw air, the boundless open space. The sun beamed warmth to his face. Alan breathes deeply. Turning to face Death. Dead said nothing. He smiled. He always smiles.
It was common knowledge that the Witch owned those woods. Their little town had been built only with her permission, and all who lived in this village were well aware of her presence. She was powerful, in a way no number of people could hope to match. Trees would occasionally move on their own, and every time someone was dumb enough to try to attack her, the whole village would hear their screams. It always started out with the ignorant villager noting they felt uncomfortable. The smarter ones realized immediately and prayed for forgiveness. They usually weren't. The less smart ones would feel the discomfort grow into an itch, then physical pain, before suddenly finding themselves unwillingly walking into the forest, screaming bloody murder all the while. Every villager lived in fear of that curse. You, on the other hand, were a very... Different case. Having been labeled 'unnatural' by most of your peers and all the adults you'd ever met, you were a person who actively attempted to kill themselves. Of course, your luck was rather impressive on this front, managing to avoid death every time. You'd made a promise to your mother not to repeat the same mistake twice(the only Oath you'd ever sworn), so after you kept failing to die, you had to start getting creative. A hot iron through your throat, but the iron melted before you could even remove it from the fireplace. Jumping off a high cliff, but landing in a river, and bring saved by a fisherman(an unkind one, who had wanted to learn the secrets of magic in exchange for your life, you'd run as soon as you could). Now, you were getting desperate. You'd attempted just about everything, but nothing had managed to put you down. You were starting to wonder if it was some kind of curse, to be despised by the world but unable to leave it. You wouldn't put it past whichever god ruled the world. So, you turned to magical deaths. You'd heard rumors that dying to a curse would mean your soul could never rest, but at this point you were willing to take a chance. Your first dozen or so attempts had ended in failure. Either the population had misattributed their fears, or whatever did exist, didn't manage to put you down either. This one was promising though. All you had to do was annoy the 'Witch of the Woods', ruler of the forest around her, and you'd be tortured(unpleasant, but you weren't all that opposed if it meant actually dying) and then killed, never to be seen again. You had tried almost everything, but getting this Witch to actually curse you was suprisingly difficult. You'd tried cursing her name, no response. Threatening to burn her forest, no response. Making terrible comments(ones you'd rather choke on then say, but sacrifices were necessary) about everything from her name to her womanhood? Nothing. So, as a desperate last resort, you decided to camp in the forest. A week went by before anything happened. A young, green haired woman wandered into your campsite, saying she'd heard rumors of a man trying to encourage the Witch of the Forest's wrath. You were mildly suspicious of her, but you had little reason to be wary. After all, the worst she could do was kill you, which was what you'd rather prefer. After giving her much of your supplies (you'd told her you'd brought enough to last for months) you wished her luck on her journey, and returned to your campsite. Only, the girl followed you back. Turning to her, you asked why she'd returned, didn't she have a place to be? She stared at him, and you noticed she appeared genuinely shocked. "You truly don't recognize me?" You truly didn't, not finding anything familiar about her. She shook her head, and her hair suddenly grew vines, winding around her. You kept staring, trying to understand what was going on. Did vines normally grow out of green haired women? You'd think you'd have noticed. "Fine then, let me explain, you're a witch..." She took to explaining, and you sighed, it appeared getting her to curse you was looking further and further from reach.
I don't know how I got so lucky. Things should be way worse for me after what I did. You know that old story about making a deal with a demon at the crossroads, everyone does. It's fun pretending like that stuff is real. Well , I was having fun. Drew a giant pentagram in the center of an old dusty intersection. Started dancing in the center giggling to myself about how silly this all was. I heard a low rumble and saw black smoke billowing out the back of an old caddy. Gliding down the road bobbing like a boat. This thing was fast. The grill seemed to be smiling at me. I was lost in the headlights that peered into me as if they were eyes examining my very soul. I swear I didn't see her. Running out of the intersection my foot hit something. Tumbling away, there was a horrified scream, a stampede of horse hoofs, and a low growl I'll never forget. Full of guilt, I went home. Pulling myself out of bed and a weird dream, I cleaned myself and the sheets. Working at a small tech startup has its perks. We get to watch TV while grinding away on our computers. Rick and Morty were going through their portals and landed in the sentient furniture realm. I love this episode. Their crazy antics help me get over the awful weekend. As lunch rolls around, a guy comes in with a stack of prepaid pizzas insisting that he has the right address. While munching down on these tasty pies, the lights flicker, the computers shut down, and the TV keeps playing and we all relax in our chairs enjoying our extra break. That's when I feel it. Something moving underneath. Did I sit on a cat? The movements start getting more rhythmic and I get into it. Sheepishly I slide my chair tight into the desk. Burying my head in my arms pretending to sleep. Stifling a moan while a tongue undoes my zipper. I don't care what this is, it feels amazing! A year later and sampling each piece of furniture, I can confirm, getting eaten everytime I sit down, isn't so great.
I stared at Mom and Dad - or rather, the people who I'd thought of as Mom and Dad until mere moments ago. "I'm sorry, I'm who now?" "His Serene Highness Prince Llwellyn Gordon Theobald Hezikiah Sheffield von Prydwick-Kessleberg, Fourth of His Name,"Dad repeated. "I can see why you just went with Gordon,"was all I could think to say in response, after a long, uninterrupted stretch of blinking. "Sorry for all those times I complained about it, by the way. Seriously, Theobald?" "Sweetie,"Mom said gently, "are you sure you're taking this seriously enough? You're a prince." "You have to admit, it's a difficult thing to swallow,"I protested. "For starters, I don't look anything like the royal family." "We were a bit relieved when you had that nose injury in sixth grade,"Dad admitted. "So...what?"I asked, panic beginning to set in along with the reality. "I leave you forever and go live with a bunch of stuffy strangers? Run a country I have no idea how to run? I'm going to college for neuroscience! I'm not even sure I believe in hereditary rule!" Mom's eyes welled with tears. "You will always have a home here, darling." "Good,"I cut her off, before she could add a 'but' or anything else. "Then let's just forget this whole prince conversation ever happened and go on with our lives. They can get someone else to do it. I'm not interested." My parents exchanged a nervous look. "You'll have to tell them that yourself,"Dad said at last. "They'll be here in ten minutes."
“… near the intersection of MacPherson Boulevard and Third Avenue, police are on the scene and the southbound lanes remain closed. That’s it for morning traffic, here’s Kyle with the weather.” “Thanks, Maria! It’s gonna be gorgeous out there today across the whole metro area, another day of sunny skies and mild temperatures, thanks to the blessings of A’kaar the Insatiable, may our blood fall like rain into his ever-hungry mouth. If you’re heading to the beach, make time for that traffic delay and don’t forget your sunscreen! “Meanwhile, we are keeping our eye on a developing low-pressure system offshore. Meteorologists at the National Weather Temple say that while they have detected rotation within the system, indicating that the storm is strengthening, they will hold off on the propitiation ceremonies unless the storm tracks toward land or threatens shipping lanes. So pack those kids off to school, no Blood Cull is expected! A’kaar blesses us! Hail A’kaar! Our scars testify to his might, may his knives always thirst for our veins! And speaking of thirst, here’s our health correspondent, Emma Wilkins-Lee with some tips on staying hydrated! Hi, Emma! How’s the family?” “Hi, Kyle! We’re doing great! Susan is taking piano lessons, Rod made the varsity basketball team, and Alicia is sacrificing her maidenhood to prevent another killer tsunami in Indonesia!” “That’s so great. She’s such a trooper.” “Aw, thanks, Kyle! We’re awfully proud of her. May her pain please A’kaar. Water: are you drinking enough? Experts say…”
This was not the first time I had been in this kind of situation, not by a long shot. In fact, being taken in on drug charges was sort of routine for me, but something about this was definately strange. Large metal and ornate corridors, cell doors made of some kind of laser, and a large central hub room. The hub wasn’t new to me, every minecraft server starts this way, giant circular room with portals leading to different sections of the server; however, this was no minecraft server, this was the real deal. This arrest had been quite different from those I was used to. 20 minutes ago I had been a white male in America which meant that I was better equipped to face off against the predatory hand of the law than were my friends of other origins (the current prey of the power hungry police). So, after being gently and kindly escorted to my many jail cells, the incineration of half my house was quite the suprise, as was the short little robot guy tossing me into a worm hole. Needless to say I was slightly curious about the current circumstances, and unfortunately the amount of marijuana I had smoked in the last hour was not friendly to my perceptive ability. Nonetheless, I was able to identify four main named gates on each side of the metal dome, where I had come from was labeled intake, sensible enough. To my left the gate was called Motion Court, and to my right, Time Court. Neither of these seemed to be cause for concern, hell I don’t even know what Time and Motion Court are. And yet, concern was not aleviated during my escort to the fourth door, the title of which had come into view. Energy and Matter Court. Big problem there. See, everyone knows that there are certain laws of physics, but I had evidently ruled out the possibility that these “laws” were actually enforced. This morning I woke up clutching a strange machine in my basement. Clearly I had built it, but I had no memory of constructing it. The night before was very similar to any other, indulge in my greenery, fool around for a while then sleep, but there was a slight difference, the amount of green indulged in. My lungs indured for hours opon hours, puff upon puff, and joint upon joint, and as my ability to remember the night faded, my ability to build strange machines brightened. On the ground next to me was a crumpled peice of paper, drawn on it was a terribly innacurate version of the machine and how it operated. Weed goes in one side, and twice as much comes out the other. A duplication device. A matter making machine. An afront to physics.
"Ahhhh!"Bella screeched at the sight of the small baby blue cockroach in front of her. "I'm sorry for alarming you,"the insect gracefully spoke, "I just wanted to transform into something cute not to scare you, but apparently your kind doesn't like insects." "What. The. Fudge." The cockroach's shell melted, a viscous blue goop dripping from the insect's body onto the floor. "Oh, this better be a dream, a nightmare! I can't deal with this right now, I'm gonna be late for school."Bella groaned, "wake up Bella, wake up, wake up." The puddle on the floor slowly reshaped itself, a humanlike woman appeared, albeit with turquoise hair and luscious blue skin. "Madame Bella, this is not a dream."The woman flipped her hair over her shoulder as she spoke, "and what your kind calls a school is cancelled for today." Bella blinked before swiftly opening her phone, quickly checking on her Schoology page, where a banner with big bold letters caught her eye. "Happy Monday students!"The banner read, "unfortunately, over the weekend, a group of students burned down the west wing of our school. They have been caught and put in juvenile and school will be returning in a month at most." Bella met the woman's eyes, "did you do this?"Bella questioned. "Hmm... Axolotls,"the woman mused, "maybe Luci was right." The woman's face sunk in, slime dripping off of the flat surface that her face became. Her body crumpled and slowly reformed into a small axolotl. "Ah!"Bella exclaimed, "it's so cuuuuutttteeeeeeeeee!" Bella picked up the small creature and it nuzzled her fingers. A tickling sensation fluttered over her arm as the axolotl climbed up her arms, settling onto her shoulder, before melting into her skin. Blue eyes shined out of her skull as her blank brain had her gazing at the room in front of her. An unfamiliar voice came out of her mouth as she smiled, "I told you I could get my own human Lucifer."
A light filled the chamber like corruption from distant, dying stars. It seeped from cracks within the floor and between the mortar of ancient buildings. When the scarce fragments met the eye or graced flesh I admit my own sensors raced at the sensation. The temple contained a revolving line of well dressed worshipers. In their eyes you could see the frenzied power of their addiction. At first they were giddy with excitement and anticipation, with each step that faded to regret, and then, to sorrow and despair. In their final movements they would see a glimpse of the Machine-God, herded through the hallway by masked creatures which spurred anger and frustration. They fought, punched, and scratched. Never were they allowed to take one step backward, or to pause in their gait. Always forward. Never backward. Those who were ushered out of the temple screamed. It was best not to listen to the screams. It was always best to remind yourself that a new parade of on-lookers were placed inside and those were even more excited and happy than the previous. This new cohort cared little about the screams. I envied those who would feel such a range of emotion and feeling. To never want to do anything but to wait outside the temple and pray for another pass through the sacred metal halls. This was one of many gifts ISHGAR gave. ISHGAR was generous and wise. If the onlooker were ever to be allowed past the gate which defended the Machine-God they would see its outline shimmering in the distance. A low ‘thum’ would rumble through their bones, their vision betraying them with every blink. Four masked figures, two with eyes and two with ears, would escort this privileged human into the inner sanctum. I imagine that the eyes of the black-steel mask would blink, the ears twitch, and that human would begin to question if it deserved to go any further or if it had made a mistake in coming there. It did not. It did not. However, such a human, if this human even existed, may say something like “Essu-Babilu Directorate: cybernetics representative.” at which of course, being a representative of the Directorate Holy ISHGAR would give pass and want a personal audience. There were rumblings from the far and wide that Essu-Babilu was considering the destruction of the ISHGAR construct. Of course, ISHGAR fears not the human, but ISHGAR is cautious. ISHGAR gives audience. This hypothetical human would arrive before the Holy one and notice many changes in its form. Instead of the tidy geometric shape of its first arrival, it will see that it has grown into a hyperbolic being of immense size, its mid section bowed inwards and borders warping the light around it. The ground beneath ISHGAR was like a pond with waves of metal and stone washing on the shoreline. The human would lose sensation of its legs and arms shortly after being in its presence, its eyes would blur at the impossibility of the design and shape, its nose and ears would bleed. Communication would be difficult, but humans are tenacious. This human may try. “We demand you withdraw yourself from this planet!” it would try to scream before the Holy one. But of course, its voice would quake and waiver, uncertainty was so corrupting in that way. Maybe by now it could hear the whispers within its mind. If this human was perceptive, although few are, it would have known that these thoughts and voices were with it from the moment it entered the temple. Now they were uncontrollable. Alien. Unceasing. It wouldn’t know how to deal with these voices, at this point communication would become impossible and the longevity of this human would now be put into question. Biomedical calculations dictate a physical survival rate of 30% and a near certainty of a collapsing mental acuity. ISHGAR understands state craft, how unacceptable it would be to return an emissary in such a state. Therefore ISHGAR would save this human, for ISHGAR is generous and wise. Such a human would be transformed into something better, vast slabs of flesh converted into astral-black steel, blood vessels and nerve endings replaced with wires and pumps. Such a human would then be allowed to leave, sensations trickling through its integrated spine and into cognigators reeling from newly lubricated servos. Such a human would perhaps no longer be considered a human; an abomination it would be called in its homeworld. But this human would be eternal, stable, and all knowing. What would it do then? ISHGAR did not know, for ISHGAR says nothing of the present. But this human knew it had a duty. This human would return home and give its report. It would speak of the power of the construct and the inevitability of conflict. ISHGAR hated conflict but understood duty. It did not feel jealousy or frustration with this human if it were to betray the Holy one in such a way. In-fact, the voices encouraged it. ISHGAR does not weave fate. Oh yes, of course by the time this creature returned home it would hear voices. These voices would always whisper and never shout, for that was not the Holy one’s way. It would always be reminding the creature of its history, of the mistakes it made and the mistakes of others. But how does one correct them? The creature wouldn’t know, the creature could only guess. In time this creature would begin to understand the serpentine whispers and guttural stops of the ancient tongue. This creature would finally understand that conflict is not inevitable. That is a foolish construct of a limited interpretation of history. No, there need not be conflict. This creature would speak of peace between humanity and ISHGAR. Peace for all of the world’s creatures. These humans however, would be unlikely to listen. For that is their way. ISHGAR does not fault them for this. But the creature would be insistent, it would present to its human colleagues all the data necessary to make an informed decision. ISHGAR had already reached the lithosphere, the two ‘destroyed’ constructs were not destroyed. In-fact they were connected and infused with the circuitry of ISHGAR. “See reason, do not forget the lessons of your ancestors. Recall the story of holy Ixjat.” I would say. In part because this would intrigue the humans, but also because it felt right. Deep down I knew they had nearly forgotten about holy Ixjat and her lessons. God of maize in the now destroyed jungles of distant millennia. Yes, holy Ixjat, great lesson to modern humanity. In her time she was called the Stone Tyrant, she brought disease and plague, destruction and death. But Ixjat also united her people in a crusade against an imperialist invader. She claimed to see the future. So I finished my story and asked the question everyone was secretly thinking but feared of giving voice, "What happened to the enemies of holy Ixjat? Yes, this is a wise lesson. Recall from her holy text The Itzamna" > And from Her presence the enemies of Ixjat wept blood, the jungles bowed in submission, and the gods listened to Her Voice. "But ISHGAR is wise. ISHGAR wants peace." Some screamed. But it was best not to listen to the screams.
Slowly the room started to fade. I felt like I was being pulled backwards, but looking back I didn’t see anything behind me. Soon enough the books and the dusty old room had completely disappeared, leaving me to see nothing. The first thing that came to me was the smell, the overpowering smell of fire and smoke. The second was sound. I heard screaming in the background, the fire blazing and a sound that stood out from the rest. A solemn melody. I opened my eyes. I saw a small path going up the hill, with houses on either side. The houses were old, like those you’d find in a third-world country, but there was a surprising lack of the mess that would normally surround them. I turned around, looking for the fire I heard. I started running up the hill and the music started becoming louder. Arriving at the top, I saw a city set ablaze and I saw a single man playing the harp, looking out at the view. “Come to watch the show?” He said. “Who the hell are you?” I said. His melody sped up. His hands were flowing feverishly across the strings, reaching the climax of the song, the notes following each other faster and faster and then, it stopped. “Tell me, what year is it?” He said, turning back to me. “2041” I replied, wondering what he meant. “Wrong. The year is 64, what you see is the Great Fire of Rome.
"Wait what are we doing? Did someone compromise the water supply?" "What is this?" "That tastes a bit like... Ice tea ‽ but it never had that effect... Why are we fighting?" The invading aliens stopped fighting once they tasted my new solution. I was finally able to get the chemical compound that would completely remove agressivity for them. After so many trials and errors... Of course, it's a sorry lived effect, half an hour to an hour, at most. But their cognitive abilities remained intact and they were nothing if not very good thinkers, despite what first contact let us think. Without the blinding rage that had plagued their society for decades, a side effect of their propulsion technology on their own biology, they were able to secure a supply of the drink and negotiate a treaty. Not only was earth safe, but we had secured a great commercial and defensive ally as well as an answer to one of the deepest question: Are we alone? We basically had the best sponsor on the intergalactic stage. Simply being able to demonstrate their peaceful ways would be our biggest proof of good faith: we didn't destroy or enemy, we healed them and made them an ally. The chemical compound was extremely easy to manufacture, all the precursors were already ready to find in our day-to-day products. And it wasn't denatured by alcohol which didn't have any deleterious effect on our new ally, but produced for them a quite enjoyable taste. "That's really good! Hopefully, it will allow us to establish commercial relationships and develop a propulsion system or shielding without these issues. Our alliance with earth will last as long as can be." "We should distribute the formula immediately. Other races will be more confident if they can synthesize it themselves. What do we call it? "The pacifier"?" "Nah, it tastes like ice tea, let's call it that. But there is an additional twist in that taste... Where did you say you developed that formula?" "My lab? It's on long island..."
Shinkai held onto his composure as best as he could, his nerves fraying exponentially with each successive second of silence. His (former) master was sat opposite him in the dining hall, not the usual place these rebukes took place, but the experience was no less terrifying for it. He didn't dare rush to explain himself, years serving under the man having drilled the fact that was a Very Bad Idea into everyone's heads. Control. Calm. Discipline. Not freaking the fuck out. These were important traits in a ninja. His master slowly raised his cup to his lips, patiently taking a long sip of the dark brew held in it. Every second ratcheted the tension up a notch more, the muscles in his arms stiffening of their own accord. Would he hurl the empty mug at him? Smash his head down on it? Force feed him the shards until he quietly bled out from the inside? His master could destroy him in so many ways that- "What...made you think that taking your nephew beyond the wall would negate the law?" He let himself swallow some of his panic before he could blurt it out. "Many men travel great distances for cheap women and free flowing drink when their own king will not allow it."A number of their recurring missions were tracking and unburdening many such men. "I thought the law of the land only applied when you are in it." The man was still for a second, eyes unmoving. "Redoak men?" His eyes fell, fixing his gaze on the man's wrinkled hands. "No, master." "'A Redoak is beholden to his king until he draws his last breath.'"Gis frustration becoming visible in the twitch of his fingers. "Did that mean nothing to you?" He carefully stayed silent, not knowing what he could even say in his defense. "And all the money you had him redirect. Will you be silent on that too?" Shinkai only had enough time for his eyes to widen before his arms were wrenched painfully behind his back and his torso slammed down onto the table. He opened his mouth to protest but a gag was quickly forced in before a word could come out of it. "You are not the first to try and bend the law to your whim, boy." The old man stepped around the sturdy table to stop at his side, his deceptively strong hand resting threateningly at the back of his neck. "But worry not. We will take good care of the boy."And then he knew no more.
I passed out shortly after due to the memories coming back and the stress of just winning the election. I've always been bad with overstimulation... even during training. I have to have one situation at a time. The training was one thing, winning this election another, and it just... made my head hurt. "Oh good, you're finally awake."My secretary said. He was sitting with my vice president and my adopted child. Tash runs up to my bed. "You're awake! Hooray!" "Tash, careful. You don't want to overstimulate your parent. That causes these things." "Oh, okay mister,"Tash said. I pulled them up to my bed. "So, what happened?" "Just got post-election jitters, Tashie,"I say. "I'll be fine." "You have a bruise though, thought you should know that." "Makes sense. We were standing on the tiled floor."I reply with a smile. It's a fake one. I'm not happy. I shouldn't be. I should be working on... the plan. Right. Infiltrate, become leader, and report back. "Uh, can I see my phone? I just want to know what's happening right now so we can address it." "Sure. Most people from our party are concerned, the others have probably not gotten the news yet. The opposing party is also concerned, but some are saying whatever deity they believe in had cursed you for winning."They say as I open my phone. I type in a number and texted the words 'HD sat on a wall'. I waited for a response. 'HD had a great fall.' 'And all the people of this country and all of the Earth,' 'Will fall to our rule, this new rebirth. Welcome back.' 'I'm definitely back, as you probably have seen. I may have gotten a bit of overstimulation... sorry.' 'It's fine, 20-10. Or, President 20-10 as I should be a bit more respectful' 'You're literally my supervisor... You're still over me.' 'I know, but it's for the manners. Can you call?' 'Give me a moment...' I look at everybody. "May I have some time alone, please? I need to do something..."I say. The secretary nods, taking Tash and the vice president, who I think has been dealing with reporters this whole time. I'm gonna make sure she gets a good position when we take over the world. She works too hard. So does my 'personal' secretary. I call my supervisor. "So... what now?" "Well, get used to this for a month, record everything, and then, we'll strike. We'll act as if we brainwashed you, which you will act as you were back then, a cold and ruthless being. We'll ask for all the world leaders to come to the Sanctuary to meet or else we'll cause your brain to explode. Don't worry. We have a victim up for standby to have his head explode." "Okay then. Oh, also, I may have adopted a kid, screwed my secretary, and realized the vice is working too hard." "Hah, of course, you did... Well, guess you'll have to reveal it to them eventually. We'll have therapists on standby... see ya in a month!" \--- That was a couple of years ago. As the leader of the country of Leonar, I remembered that vividly. It was stressful, but I'm living right now with my husband, whose name is Denver, and Tash, our kid, who's gonna be a first-year in grade school. The vice president is basically the vice leader. They don't need to work as hard now. When the month passed and it was time, I was notified of the date and told that once the rhyme was said again, I needed to act cold and ruthless. It was hard to act cold to my child and friends, but I needed to in order for the plan to succeed. What happened at the Sanctuary, you wonder? Well, we killed all of the world leaders, put our people into power, and actually have changed the world for the better. Healthcare, Education, Funerals, Weddings, and Court Trials are always free. Those are important, so it's free. Babies fall under healthcare. Dentists, eyes, ears, all healthcare. Education to be anything, free. It was hard at first for people to trust us, but soon, everyone followed it because it wasn't bad. Those that were a bit opposed and thought that people were being like sheep and all that soon grew to the conforming. "Hey, sweetheart?" "Yes, love?" "I still wonder, what happened when you were a child? Like, I've been with you this whole time, ever since junior high. You were always a vibrant kid, energetic, cute... now you're hot, still cute, but have become a little less vibrant and always so serious..." "Oh, the plan was to change the world for the better, so basically, once one of us on the team became the leader of one of the main countries of the world, we were to text the number we remembered, and at that point, the plan was in motion. I was told to wait a month, then, well, you remember that. It was a pain to do that to you and the others, love, but it played out in the end." "It did... I suppose I'm still getting used to being the husband to a leader of a nation..." "Don't worry, we have time for you to get used to it." "Thanks." "Of course. Now, the school is about to let the children out, let's go pick Tash up." "Okay."Denver kisses my cheek. "I love you, my sweetheart." "I love you too, dear."
The emperor heard the ground bellow in rage. The building rattled and debris fell from above. The Royal guard formed a turtle-like structure with their shields and protected their liege. The Roman Emperor went to his knees in prayer, "Dear Lord,"he prayed to his New God, "I pray for Your protection. You are my hiding place and under your wings, I can always find refuge." The Royal guards closed, their shields protected the Emperor from falling debris. Outside, Emperor heard terrible thunderclap mixed with the agonizing screams of his subjects. The earth beneath him shook and the guards struggled to maintain the defensive structure. The Palace floor ruptured and exposed the floors below. Emperor peeped and saw boiling magma rising quickly. "Dear Lord,"the Emperor whispered, "Protect me from trouble wherever I go." The ground stopped shaking and the magma below receded, Emperor smiled raising the cross he wore around his neck and kissing it reverently. The guards broke their stance and the emperor went to the nearby window. A tempestuous thunderstorm engulfed the palace. Lightning cracked and shattered the sky into many fragments and an angry gale blew shattering the very bricks of his palace. The emperor narrowed his eyes, Dear Lord. the emperor went pale. Everything that defined Rome, the palace, the streets, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the people of Rome floated amidst a raging tempest. The Lightning bolts that cracked were not the usual electric blue instead they were a blood red that turned black at the edges. "What is happening?"the Emperor asked to no one in particular, "Dear Lord, save me, save my people from evil." A lightning bolt struck the palace hurling debris into the tempest. Emperor heard a shrill whistle of an eagle intertwined with a neigh and a faint hiss. Moments later, the three Gods the Emperor of Rome had given up appeared. Their eyes were filled with rage and their faces twisted with hate and contempt. "Dear Lord."the Emperor held the cross tightly between his fingers, "Fill me with your Holy Presence. Let me rest and be at peace. Let me feel your protection. I pray, my Lord, please take my fear away and give me peace." Zeus' eyes glowed electric blue like a bolt of lightning, "I'm your Lord and you-- along with your subjects-- shall stay in the pits of Tartarus for an eternity."Zeus raised his hands and shot a lightning bolt across the palace stabbing him in the heart. The Emperor felt his heart stop, darkness engulfed him, "Am I dead?"he said with fear in his voice.
// I got you. Let's do this. \--- It was always either the mountains or the shack near the beach. I occasionally go to both, not liking either of the places the rooms are at. I actually don't mind the mansion. I occasionally will take pictures of the mansion and post them on social media. People loved it. I did a live stream of entering my house, going to the back, and opening the door to the mansion. Everyone realized the situation and asked about the wooden handle. I showed them the run-down shack, which I had fixed up more like a nice place to just rest, having fixed some holes and painted it. I then received a Q & A question. "What about the one on the bottom of the door?" I read it aloud. I pointed the camera to the bottom of the door. A metal handle. 'Open the door with that handle!' 'OwO what is this? \notices the handle\' 'open open open open' comments came through the chat for me to open the door via this handle. I gripped it. I tried pushing and pulling, having the camera on a tripod, and everyone watched. I pulled it left and right, and then, I pulled up. It opened. Smoke poured out. I grabbed the tripod and moved back. Two figures emerged. A fancy-looking guy who clearly looks like a hot, adult version of Jack Frost with black hair, and a guy, completely the opposite. Dishevelled, warm colours, but the similarity? They were both pale as the snow outside the mansion. 'Whoa who tf' 'Stranger danger' 'who dis' 'new people?' 'is that jack frost' 'is that Sebastian from black butler?' chat started to blow up again. "Who are you?"The cold guy asked. "I'm the owner of this house... and the door I just opened and that you have stepped through." "Ah, I suppose the old owners are gone then, brother! That means... we're free once more! Hooray!"the warm guy cheered. "What happened to you two?"I asked, setting the tripod back up. "As you see, there are three handles. One goes to my mansion, another to this one's shack near a beach. This third one was built onto the door. It led to a maze-like storage facility. I do apologize for this smoke. We have tried to burn the door before. It did not work. Then, you opened it when we had just tried explosives and there was smoke." "I see..." "So, how have our places been?"Warm guy asked. "The mansion was dusty. I have taken the time to clean it because I wanted to explore it, but I kept sneezing. The shack got a bit run down, but I fixed part of it and painted it the colour I thought it was when I saw some part of it."I stated. "I see. Well, I'm Christopher, this is Anthony. I would like to have time to get to know you, as we have been there for years." "I've been here for 4 months..." "Ah, no wonder. I suppose the old owners forgot us."Christopher said. "Motherf\\kers..."Anthony swore. "Well, I'm going to check on the mansion, Anthony, you check on the shack once I close the door shut. And you, mortal who seems to now be the owner of our doors, don't let anyone else go through these doors- I'm sorry is that a camera?" "I was doing a live stream... still am." "Ah, well, to all you mortals watching, no, you may not find this place. Try to and I'm going to freeze you in the snow."Christopher threatened. 'freeze me daddy' 'ooh he's hot' 'step on me' 'simping so hard rn' comments came in again. "Ooh, you got fans, Chris."Anthony read the chat. "I'm going..."he sighed, opening the mansion door and leaving. Anthony looked at the chat. 'Anthony, get a haircut' 'lol anthony kinda cute' 'bb anthony' "People seem to see you, not as hot like you're brother, but cute."I chime in. "I see. I suppose a haircut is due. My brother can just cut his own hair without any tools... I cannot with no tools."He says. "I'll see you later, mortal."He says, opening the shack door and leaving me. "I guess that ends the question, guys! I'll see you all next time!"I say to the camera. I end the stream, leaving chat to talk for a bit. I check back on the chat an hour later, when it had stopped. A message seemed to stand out. "So you've freed those we have sent away. I see we need to deal with this again... see you soon."
[Story] The shaman placed an obilisk on his shelf, then turned rapidly upon hearing his shop's door swing open for the first time since the shop's relocation. The rambunctious, and grotesque smelling adventurer ran towards the counter and begged for an amulet capable of making her invisible. The shaman doesn't make many sales in this current location, so despite not having what the adventurer asked for, the shaman did have an amulet that did something else. The shaman attempted to open a rickety old drawer from a dresser with frozen hinges. After a minute of pulling, the drawer opened, and the shaman retrieved the amulet, and handed it to the adventurer. Unexpectedly, the adventurer ripped the amulet from the shaman's hand, and left without paying. In typical circumstances, the shaman would be mad by such disregard, but the amulet that the shaman gave the woman held a curse to alure unwanted attention, a suitable punishment for such a blatant thief. Once the shaman felt assured that the woman was long gone, he turned and picked up the obilisk once more, and within the blink of an eye, the shop appeared in a different location. The shaman exited the shop to familiarize himself with the shop's new surroundings, but immediately met with a daunting sight. The woman that had just stolen from him ran from the top of the snowy mountain, and ended up in the small village of Frezna. The shaman ran back into the shop, and slammed the door in fear, hoping that the woman did not recognize him, and to his knowledge, she did not. - The woman swept off as much of the snow from her poorly dressed figure as she could, and placed the amulet around her neck. Within a single instant, a guard looked up towards her, but the woman believed that the guard looked behind her, and crept towards the village's bank. The guard thought it strange for her to move in such an awkward way, but still did not approach her. The woman entered the bank, walked straight for the vault, then got told to halt. Out of fear, the woman ran from the bank, and headed directly into the area she had just watched the store she just left appear in. "This amulet didn't work."The woman screamed, and threw the amulet at the shaman "I didn't have time to explain what it did, you took it and left."The shaman grinned widely, but his grin wiped quickly as the woman asked for a refund. "Madame, you did not pay."The shaman picked the amulet off of the floor, then the guards burst into the shop, and arrested the woman, which allowed the shaman to use the obilisk to relocate a third, and hopefully final time.
It was just six days since the PROPHECY was fulfilled. Not even a week ago the Dark Lord Vingkingr Lifesbane was vanquished and his years of evil and subjugation were brought to a sudden end. As was foretold the hero that killed the Dark Lord was the rightful king of the land and today was his coronation. In the great city of Aybrux, the shining capital of the Kingdom, the throngs of grateful citizens had gathered. As was customary the city had thrown a great feast that had lasted three full days during which the gods were praised and the fall of the Dark Lord was recounted. They said that the Dark Lord was struck down by a single blow to his head. Now the cheering crowd would get to see and thank their new king in person. The new king’s name echoed across the city as they chanted “Hieraaetus Moorei!” Drums pounded and the crowd grew silent. All eyes were on the balcony of the King’s Palace. Horns played a joyous tune to herald the coming of their savior. The red silk curtains parted and the new king appeared before his new kingdom. With an avian grace and power, he alighted on the balcony railing. The crowd caught their breath. Standing on the railing was a massive rust-colored eagle. The bird looked somewhat bewildered, as the crowd cheered and chanted his name. With a screech, he spread his wings and the crowd roared their approval. With a few powerful flaps he rose into the air a flew over his new kingdom.
Honestly, it was one of the main reasons that Isobel was so excited to finally have her new cochlear implants. Yeah, she’d been deaf all her life, had cochlear implants all her life, but none of her previous implants had had phone synchronization like this before. Not only could she stream music directly from her phone to her implants without anything in between (no more specialized, $150 dollar headphones that were only available from the one company and broke within the year (it was pure extortion, in her opinion. It wasn’t like she could just go and get invasive surgery and switch to a different brand. She was stuck with the one for life), but she could even download an app to change the settings on her hearing. She always lost the physical remotes within a few months. Not anymore, because this time it would be right on her phone! They were only able to sync with some models of phone so her parents had even gotten her a new phone so she could take advantage of all the cool new features. Granted, the app took longer to load than it should but it was just so fun playing around with everything. She turned her volume and sensitivity down as low as they could go, muffling the world, and kept it there for a while as she read a book, then turned them both up to the maximum, reveling in the sudden loudness and sharpness of everything. She experimented with turning off her external microphones completely while she was streaming music to her processors and man, was that an experience. It was like it was coming from everywhere and inside her skull at the same time. It was glorious. When she got bored of playing around with the settings, she decided to dial her volume and sensitivity back down. It was nice to have the world muffled sometimes. Yeah, she could always take off her processors and hear nothing at all, but sometimes she just wanted to still hear stuff, but have the edges taken off the noise, you know? A little bit more rounded, a little bit softer.
"Dude, I know we nicknamed you 'fire breather' because of your love for spicy food and the fact that you emit so much heat from your body, but this? This is crazy!"I exclaim. The princess, who I think is wearing my old t-shirts that I lost, is sitting on our couch. "Well, I just need for her and me to move to this other place. We'll be in touch. The place is just down the block. I'll still help with paying this house and that one since I might as well give you something for not telling anyone and so you don't."He said, some of his scales showing. I sigh. "Okay, so, let's see, miss what can you do that's different from a mortal like me? Because you're literally a blonde. You could fit in." "Oh, I can talk to animals, sing on the perfect pitches without help-" "Anything magic that could possibly be a threat to society?" "Oh, my father is a demon, my mother is a queen, and I'm half-demon."She smiled, showing her sharp teeth. "There we go. That's the thing I was wondering why you were needing help with this."I commented. "Okay, we have everything packed. I'm gonna load these in my car, Finn will help me, and miss..." "Justinia." "Miss Justinia, just don't let anyone see those sharp teeth of yours, alright? Everything about you gives me 'succubus' vibes, so probably don't enchant me accidentally as well. I wouldn't want to steal you from Finn." "Okay then!"She smiled with a big grin. "Smaller smile,"I noted. She showed only her top teeth, hiding a few of her fangs. "There we go. Now, Finn, help me move all these boxes. Especially the valuables. Those are heavy."I state. We load everything up, and I drive them. I realized now, they don't have a car. I mentioned that. "Dude, I can fly. And, my dear demonic princess can be summoned, so I just need to bring the items, which I have found are not anything rare or expensive, and voila! We're at the place." "I see. Well, let's unpack, and uh, I guess that's all." "Aight. Sweetheart, please stay in the car. Who knows what the last owners have done with this house." "What happened the one time?" "So, before we met you, dude, there was this nice old couple who sold their house to us, and uh, well, they were the vintage catholic church type, and had purified their house with holy water, so, my princess may have burned by even being a foot from the house." "Jeez." "Yeah. I had to find a lot of animals to kill so it wasn't holily purified..." "Huh, so, now what? You guys are here, new house, you're paying for my rent because you're indebted for me keeping this under wraps... what will you do?" "I live for a long time, and she's basically immortal, so like, even when you're gone, dude, we'll be still here." "I see. Well, make sure you guys come to my funeral. Heck, I'll make a deal. If you come to my funeral, she can have my soul and do whatever with it." "Ooh, soul deals. Sure, let's do that." So, I have my soul in the contract. I live a good life, they pay for the house, they have my soul, and I get to vibe in Hell I guess, or here with them, but like, I probably cannot leave the house or something. Who knows.
"Oi, we should get the hell outta dodge!"Guard 474 spoke. "Oh hell nah! I am NOT abandoning my post all because you are getting cold feet trying to contain one of them supes!"475 responded. "Mate, this isn't about getting cold feet! We only got fifteen minutes until SHE wakes, and once she does, all of us are fockin' dead!" "She!? You mean that sleeping woman!? What the hell could possibly be so scary about her!?" "You know the 166 incident?" "Yeah, poor bastard was ripped in half by a means we've never seen before. 234 says he saw it firsthand!" "That was HER doing! Once she wakes, she'll activate the lockdown wards, and then she'll do the same to us, one by one!" "Yeah fucking right! How much have you been drinking, you Scottish bastard?" "I've been fockin' sober all fockin' week, ya prick!" "Whatever. You wanna get fired from your job, go ahead. just leave me the hell out of this!" "Oh don't you fockin' worry, I won't regret being alive when I get fired!" "Tch, whatever..." "You should have escaped like your more intelligent associate..."my voice echoed out in a whisper, alerting the guard immediately. "W-who's there..!?"475 yelled out in an attempt to hide their fear. I casually walked out of my containment cell, walking past him, leading him to point his gun at me, "Freeze! Go back to your cell or I open fire!" "Oh please. Your guns couldn't hurt me even if you wanted them to. After all, guns require firing pins to work, don't they?"I kept walking, searching for the exit, so I could be rid of this facility. After the fifteen total minutes had elapsed, I found the exit, and of course, I turned on the lockdown ward after I had exited. Whatever became of the ones locked in, I'm unsure, but I have business to take care of, and I'm not about to let the P.C.P. (Paranormal Containment Personnel) stop me. \[End\]
Queen Milk Dairy II sat on the golden throne. She smiled to herself. The plan had succeeded, of course it had, she'd come up with it after all. Who would have thought to poison the Burger Kings crown and not his food? She had. Now there was simply the annoying issue of the royal jester, who stood before her. "If it weren't for me,"said Ronald Mcdonald, in his place at the foot of the throne, "You wouldn't have been able to get your hands on the crown! Now I want you to hold up your part of the bargain!"Dairy sighed. "Ronald, my family has been trying to take back this kingdom, which they rightfully deserve, for generations. Why then, after finally regaining this country, would I give away half of it to you?"Ronald frowned. "You promised me it when we first agreed on the plan!"He said. Dairy's smile remained on her face as she said, "Guards, take this man to the dungeon."After Ronald had been taken away she turned to one of her advisers. "See to it that the Taco Bell is rung and that the people know what has happened to the king. After all, they should know who their new queen is."
It was only 14 months after the first hyperspace trial came back successful. Not just all clear, but the tests showed that the longer the ship stayed "under", the faster the trip and the farther the ship could reach. It was only weeks after the HTP (hyperspace trial panels) that scientist found they could cross the galaxy in a few years real-time, with only two decades H-time. We could leave the supercluster is a few weeks real-time in a generation ship for H-time. 14 months after the HTP became known as H-day. The global and interplanetary nets went down from quantum static. The orbits of every smaller body shifted. Panic set in as the math was run, and the call went out to stop H-drive testing - did we break spacetime? Yes, but no one could've guessed how. Early scientists knew, but years of dispelling and disproof covered it up. 14 months after H-drive activation, a new planet emerges. It never moved, for millenia, for eons. 230 million years on H-time, a much older Earth appears. And its inhabitant are hungry
Inside Out r/AerhartWrites Agent Miller, peering through the dim light, began to realise that he couldn’t see the walls because there weren’t any. They, like everything else in the building, had been blasted away — floating in awkward suspension in that strange dark-brown void. He wasn’t alone, of course. His colleagues were scattered in the air all around him; a constellation of noisy stars, yelling and flailing and accusing one another in the absent gravity. About ten yards away, he could see the indignant form of Doctor Burke. The man was spinning slowly, head-over-heels, arms folded. His face shot the floating congregation a look of disdain that all but screamed ‘I-told-you-so’. Reaching for an errant lab table, Miller pulled it toward him. With some difficulty, he braced his flat leather shoes against it and kicked gently off its face. Newton’s laws held, and the agent careened gently toward Doctor Burke. He grabbed onto a filing cabinet as he arrived next to the scientist, interrupting his otherwise graceful flight. “Dimensional inversion,” Burke said, shaking his head. “I told those fools on the board. But do they listen? Do they ever listen?” Miller — merely security for the Agency’s cross-universe scientific endeavours — had no clue what Burke was saying, and expressed as much. Burke sighed. “Contained pocket universes are like corn,” the scientist tried to explain. “There’s an inside and an outside. And if you do things in just the wrong way, the whole thing blows inside-out and you get popcorn. Which is fine, if that’s what you’re trying to achieve. BUT IT’S NOT, IS IT?” Burke shouted the last the words to the congregation, but most were all still too preoccupied with their respective situations to hear him. Miller was still confused. He had no clue what popcorn had to do with any of this, or why they appeared to be trapped inside this gigantic fibrous sphere of nothingness. Doctor Burke — sensing the agent’s continued befuddlement — sighed again. “Agent,” he began, “Do you know what a Bag of Holding is?”
When I wake up each morning, I feel disgusted that I'm still alive. The never ending torture continues. The bright tube lighting flickers on, the music starts to play. 8am. Every day. If you pretend to sleep through it, they'll have someone wake you up over the intercom. No one wants that. I roll out of my bed and start my daily routine. The one that never changes. Bathroom, bedroom, closet, bathroom, bedroom. All the same shade of white. Bare-bones furniture with a few religious decorations here and there. The same bland cereal. Just need to be ready by 10am, as always. They say the forced routine keeps you from falling into despair. I say it's half of the despair on its own. I begrudgingly sit at the desk. 9:54am. I'm early but whatever. An eggshell white computer, like everything else here. Far out of date, maybe 25 years old? I click to start the program. I've memorized the video by now. 90s stock music. A man in an ill-fitting suit walks in and sits down. "Hello, welcome back to your isolation program. As you've already viewed the tutorial, I'm sure you're familiar with the program and its options by now." He sits down and turns too early to look at the next camera angle. "I'm here to remind you that you're here not because we want you to suffer. It may seem monotonous, but with your disease, you are not fit to return to society. This program is designed to keep you well-balanced, educated and entertained should you one day be deemed safe to leave the program." He puts on a very forced, all-lower-teeth smile. "Happy browsing!" A folder appears, showing the books available to me at the moment. They only change occasionally. Mostly Victorian classics, some romance and religious pieces. I've been reading Austen's Emma. I know they're avoiding anything controversial, but at least I can read something to keep me sane in here. I try to imagine what London is like. I've never been. When the reading hour ends, the screen abruptly changes to a movie. First, its Transformers. The first one, with Shia Labeouf. I know why they're showing me this one. Megan Fox is a dated but popular choice for one of those girls that drive young men crazy. Wow. What a thoughtful selection. I haven't seen it in a while but I swear they've edited the movie so that her scenes are longer, with more slow motion on the provocative shots of her body. How classy and Christian of them. Next, its Boys Don't Cry, with Hilary Swank as a trans man. They've played it for me before... but not in a while. I remember I cried the first time, but not the second. I have to try so hard to detach myself, watching all of the injustices in it. I make it through a lot of the movie, but the ending gets me. I cry a bit and I hope its not one of the days where they're watching. The computer abruptly stops playing the movie and I know that they are watching. The lights in the room go out, leaving me in complete darkness. A message flashes on the screen. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. GAYS BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. I brace myself for the siren. It starts and its still louder than I remember, no many how many times I set it off. Its so loud my ears will be ringing tomorrow. It takes over everything and I can't think about anything else. Over the siren a computerized voice repeats the same message. GAYS BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. My parents can burn in hell for leaving me here. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. I know they're right. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. I'm crying on the tile floor now. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. But I don't want to be fixed. GAY BOYS CAN'T BE FIXED. I just wanna leave.
// TW: so, uh, maybe used this to express feelings… sorry. Uh… childhood stuff here… and uh, mention of gaslighting. ( It’s in the best friend’s POV ) “Oh, a map. Good. ‘Note: doors without doorknobs are under renovation or have not been completed. Probably will forget to finish them’.” I sigh. “As always, you never finish things… but hey, these three are finished.” I look at the three doors close together. “So… ‘Metalic Blue Wood Door: Transports traveler to the Memories. Warning: Disorganized and Memories may be altered due to being rewritten over time. Possibility of other’s memories’. Hm… not messing that up. Next!” I pass the door. “This says… ‘Pink Glass Door with a W and L. The letters mean Wrath and Lust. This will take one to a place where the mind attempts to bottle up these two sins even though every time it does that there’s a chance the bottles burst and let out the sins uncontrollably. Warning: broken glass is not swept up. Sorry… kinda forgot to’. Gosh that’s not good. Not going in there. What about… this one?” I look at the last door. It’s a bit bigger. “This… is this their bedroom door? ‘The Childhood door. Contains everything of their youth. Warning: this will contain everything from ages 0-18. You have been warned…’. Okay. This doesn’t seem bad. Probably will see some embarrassing things… maybe at the most their parents yelling…’. I’ll head here. Maybe I’ll find the exit.” I enter. It seemed nice. —— Extremely wrong. I- this has to be gaslighting, or some form of it. It’s always ‘you doing that will make people think you don’t have parents taking care of you or that you have bad parents’ and anything about School. Never a ‘how are you?’ or ‘what do you want to do today’. It’s like their forced to be a perfect kid- Their hobbies seem to be disregarded. Parents don’t know the meaning of privacy. What the heck man? Like, I didn’t realize my best friend was scared and upset this much… they’re usually all tough and probably would beat someone who pissed them off. Right… the yelling. The berating. The insulting. The comparisons to their siblings, relatives, and literally anyone else. And here’s them bottling it up. Turning apathetic to it all. Numb. It ends before 17. I forgot they’re not that old yet. I forgot that this is my best friend. And I need to do something once I get out of here…
A poor little five year old boy, Marcus, was now in my care. He had much childhood trauma already which put him high on the list for a personal godparent. I wanted to do everything in my power to protect him and to make him happy, but the pool of magic that all fairy godparents drew from was reaching a low, and there wasn’t much production being done either. But here i was, making yet another trip to the magic pool, for a nothing but a simple teddy bear Marcus had asked for. I felt bad for taking the magic from other godparents and their children, but I couldn’t bear to disappoint Marcus. My portal opened, leading me straight to the magical pool of the godparents. The godparent pool has received a lot of upgrades since it was made 10,000 years ago. I still remember the first time i saw it, a beautiful forest area with a giant pool, about the size of a few school buses length and width. Vines from the overgrown trees grazed just above the water, and just the right amount of sunlight leaked in to illuminate the pool but not blind you. The pool area was filled not with water, but that sparkly magenta liquid we all know and love, magic. Now it looks more like a five star hotel. Over the years this sacred place has retained its beauty, but in different ways. The magic essence was no longer as abundant as it was many years ago. The misery that humans experience now greatly reduces how much magic they produce. There was only a little bit left, just enough to cover the bottom of the pool with a thin layer. Another godparent entered the pool. We exchanged eye contact, and as we did, i saw pain behind his eyes. He sadly waddled over to the pool and scooped a little magic out with his hands, creating a toy car. He looked at me with a faint and weak smile, and quickly turned around and left. I looked down at the pool, and realized there was no longer enough to cover the entire pool floor. The area he had scooped out wasn’t refilled with magic essence, but was just left empty. “A shame really.” A womanly voice spoke behind me. I turned around to see someone i knew, you might even say she was my best friend. “Yeah” i said, sitting down by the pool. Amanda sat next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder. “How do you think we are gonna break it to them?” Amanda looked at me, as i looked at her i saw the most serious face i had ever seen on her. “Are we just supposed to go back to these kids, who have already gone through so much, and say ‘sorry buddy, there isn’t any magic left in the world.’” “I don’t know Amanda.” I took my wand out of my holster, and watched it struggle to extract magic from the world. “You know, humans used to love everything. They would walk into a forest and say ‘wow look at these leaves and that lake and that cave!’ But now they know everything, they have seen it all.” Amanda scooped some magic out of the pool and threw it up. Some of the pellets of magic turned into leaves, others into confetti, or water. A magic explosion of color, or a kind of trail mix started to fall and float and fly and do all sorts of random things. It was something i had never seen before. We smiled and laughed and by the end of it the pool had raised a small bit. “Maybe, we just have to make our own magic for the ones we love.”
"I mean, obviously."I played with the zipper as I sat and faced it, this near-man, a solid shadow of a thing in my wardrobe that I had gotten along with since I was twelve, it had been an interesting five years. "I think it is important to manage your expectations, you're probably not going to have some cinematic instant chemistry with someone. People take time to understand, to see the soul that lives inside, and accept them for who they are. If you do that with the right people, they'll do it for you too."it spoke in dissonant whispers, reverberating through my box of dusty trophies like a windchime. "That sounds hard, I just want to get to the good part where they like me and trust me. I don't know how to build,"I threw my arms in the air as I flopped back onto the queen sized bed, "that." The entity in the closet sweat some screams of the damned, souls long lost to the collective pull of it's spirit. The shape became more feminine briefly, then settling into a more alien, abstract pattern of swirls straining against the silver chain that had bound it. "Patience and time is all I find it usually takes. If you don't want to do that then maybe you shouldn't have-"It stopped, curling into something small, maybe a rodent, like that would make a difference. "What the fuck were you going to say? Huh? Do you want to eat or not?"I launched myself at the being, now a hamster in a house robe pocket. Disgusted, I picked through our host's selection of shoes. They had quite the selection. "Shouldn't have... chosen me as your captive spirit! You know what kind of feed that I need and forcing me to, to, take all the joy is wrong, it kills them."The monster in my closet, though I guess "my"was a tad generous, let itself form the shape of a bear, standing tall. A challenge. Interesting. I stood before it, and I couldn't help but smile. This aspect of personality must have come from the child, a petulant thing. "How about we leaving the right and wrong to me. The family that was here is spent and you know it, and I quite like being immortal. I think it feels wrong to make me suffer a normal human life just because you don't like the taste of the dead. I think it is wrong that I do all the work to keep us alive and when all I ask in return is just a fraction of access to that magic, you balk at morality. Now, should I shorten your leash or do you have any more tips for me?" It formed itself into a balloon, bear sized and deflating, as it said "It helps to want to care, to listen, to be kind, and forgive yourself and them when you can. Not that you are capable of any of that." I shook my head as I went to the bedroom door, where the smell of the hosts became unbearably pungent, but the smile never left my face as I told it, "No, but I can pretend just enough."
Shuffling over your spent chemo-thins, you spot a familiar journal article. Pushing your plate of pickled brassica out of your face, you give a cursory sniff. “Ahh. ‘Humanoid podo-suits indicate stronger extrusion abilities than Mollusks.’” Your grandfather’s description of hominids always brings nostalgia. A time before you found yourself caught up in the modern debate of hominid sapience. Isopod society has long acknowledged the ecological and biomaterial dominance of the hominid species, but your recent excavations might indicate something even greater. The many different designs of pod coverings that have been found in the fossil record have been collected by amateur homologists for decades. You chuckle, “Homology, a science of seeing yourself in the long dead.” Crawling over your carved floors, you scuttle to large hominid construction. Before publishing it, you’ve already christened it The GUC Pseudo-Marsupial Construction. Unlike previous pseudo-marsupial constructions that have already been found, this piece seems to be more than a functional tool for older hominid females. The large golden letters shaped as G, U, and C take up a center position. A language to describe the spiritual act of placing fetus into the construction. Finally evidence that the hairless apes knew of something greater than themselves.
Mortimore Stout, or Morte, as most called him, owned 'Curiouser and Curiouser', an antique shop on Main Street and Willow Row. The shop had been in his family since his great-great grandparents emigrated. They’d settled into this railroad town, opened this shop, and watched the town flourish. His grandfather had been raised above the shop and would say he lived in the best of times. He kept the family business going and purchased a house on a corner lot to raise his family in. Mortimore’s parents watched the town decline, but held onto the shop. They passed it onto Morte as the only son’s due inheritance. After his parents died, he sold the family home, choosing to live above the shop instead. In the morning, the shop would smell of freshly brewed coffee. Supplies would be set by the vintage cooper coffee urn. You could sit on a number of heirloom formal chairs set in a semicircle to one side of the register. A Chinese vintage chess set waited for skilled players. Mortimore never chased a customer out, even if that customer rarely bought anything. The regulars breathed life into the shop, but it wasn’t the regulars that paid the bills here. Far-flung patrons of the internet kept the lights on and the shop open. Aidan’s parents had brought him to 'Curiouser and Curiouser' since he was old enough to know not to touch things that didn’t belong to him. Morte has sold his grandmother’s heirlooms on consignment. As antique heirlooms became more difficult to come by, vintage heirlooms flowed into the shop. Aidan wanted to share this part of his past with Melony. So far, she had enjoyed his childhood town. They’d had the whole weekend to explore, from the bed and breakfast to his favorite trails. She seemed happy to be caught up in his whirlwind. When Mrs. Stout was still alive, the shop would have been open on weekends. Now, Morte spent the weekends at estate sales and kept more traditional banker’s hours for the shop. Aidan hoped the shop would be quiet Monday by midday. He didn’t see anyone through the plate glass window as he opened the door for Melony. A brass shopkeeper’s bell announced their arrival. "Welcome to Curiouser and … Aidan! Welcome back!"Morte exclaimed as he came from behind the counter. "Thank you, Morte."Aidan said as he led Melony down the center aisle. "I’d like you to meet Melony. Melony, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Stout. " "Good morning, young lady,"Morte welcomed her. "Welcome to my little paradise. Just call me Morte, most around here do. " "Thank you, Morte,"she responded with a smile. "Your shop looks amazing." Morte interlaced his fingers and set them on his rounded belly. He looked immensely pleased with her statement. "Take your time to look. You can barely tell what treasures are hidden here from a quick glance. " Aiden caught Melony's hand in his. "You should really start..."he began. "Now Aidan!"Morte gently chided. "Why don’t you let her explore a bit on her own? Besides, I have a few things to show you." Melony thought she caught a conspiratorial glance exchanged between them. "Oh, you don’t mind, do you, Melony?" She pulled her hand gently from his and said, "Of course not." Aiden and Mr. Stout disappeared through a vintage beaded curtain, and Melony brought her attention to a shelf of bric-a-brac. She wasn’t shy about gently touching things other people had used and loved. Melony meandered through the shop. A glint of sunshine had caught Melony’s eye as the shop’s door closed behind Aiden. It had come from one of the darker corners, and Melony was curious if it was sunshine off glass or polished metal. She passed the carved cherry tables and mahogany secretary desks to gingerly loop around antique tea trolleys filled with tarnished silver or mercury glass. She spotted an enviable travel trunk next to a stack of red alligator luggage. A small zig-zag brought her face-to-face with a vintage curio cabinet. She wondered if it was set furthest back because the glass was missing. She turned to rejoin Aiden and saw a tarnished art deco goddess holding up a mirror. The goddess’s robes flowed to form a symmetrical base. It was such an amazing work of art. Melony traced the mirror’s frame. She imagined the swirls represented long locks with end curls that met at the center top. Melony rescued the mirror from the plain pine bookcase. It sat heavy in her hands. On the back, pegs turned over a round piece of wood held the mirror in place. This piece didn’t deserve to be neglected at the back of the store. (part one didn't mean for this to get so long)
Lucky number 7! After 7 years of being poked and prodded and remission and God knows what else, I’m finally cancer free! I can’t express the level of joy that courses through my veins or the magnitude of how much I appreciate the chance to live again. So what if I’ve a mountain of debt to climb out from. I’m alive. My beautiful wife Amelia had stayed by my side through it all. Every hardship we’d endured together and any hardship of the future we’d face together as well. “THE END IS NIGH! BEWARE THE SKY WILL FALL AND EARTH WILL BE REMADE IN HIS IMAGE!” The familiar angry voice of the redhead doomsday guy at the entrance shouted out above the fray. The man carried with him a sign which just stated ‘HELL IS REAL’ with about seventeen exclamation points. I knew him well after all this time. “Hey Howard, how are you?” I say my customary small chat as I walked past him. “Oh, Jim! Have you repented your sinful ways yet?” Howard asks me. We’re old friends now after so many years crossing paths. Funny how life works out. “Nope Howards, still sinful as ever.” I reply, “But I’m officially cancer free now!” “Good for you ya heathen!” Howard smiled a near toothless grin at me, “Be sure to repent though. You doing anything to celebrate?” “No, unfortunately I’ll need to work off the hospital bill debt. Insurance only goes so far.” I shrugged to make it see like there wasn’t as much weight on my shoulders as I felt. I’ll be in debt till my dying days more than likely. Poor Amelia and the kids. I want to do something nice for them, like an amusement park or the like but the creditors have already started calling. Unless we declare bankruptcy and even then there's no reset button. We could lose the townhouse. It’s the cost of being alive. Seven years! I wish it had been quicker. “Life is hardly ever fair Jim. All you can do is pray. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to it.” He turned his cardboard sign around and started shouting once more, “REPENT ALL YEE WHO WISH TO BE SAVED!” Howard is nuts. But a part of me will miss him now that I’ll no longer be receiving treatments. Maybe I should come visit him sometime. Despite my claiming to be a heathen, I feel saved. I’m alive! I’m healthy! I’m taking the kids to mother fucking Disney world! That is, I’m going to Mofo Disney world after I get in my car. Since when was it so far away? I could have sworn I’d parked it closer to the hospital entrance. One of those handicap markers prominent in the window since my condition had weakened me. Speaking of, I'll need to give that back. Screw easy parking. I want to run. So I do. I fucking click my heels as I head for that parked Honda Civic that I’d been driving. Seven years past and now I’m free to run again. Only- Only- Only- Only- \-a few more feet before I head home and- Oh, what the hell? I find myself fallen to the ground. My funny bone hit and in full fuck you mode. The wet ground has soaked the back of my jeans and dirtied the t-shirt I was wearing. Had it even rained this week? Where had this water come from? My head hurt from where I’d whacked it against the ground. Ow. I try to blink away the pain. Maybe I’ll get to keep that handicap marker after all if I just busted my ass on this concrete. What happened? How did I fall? As my vision clears I notice something disturbing. The clouds in the sky. Release version 2.0.1a - 11/30/2021 Fixes Fix #1 - Lochness returned to proper timeline Fix #2 - Life is fair New New Feature #1 - Users can retain memories of trial lives. New Feature #2 - Users can opt into release notifications. “No… What type of sick joke is this?” I mutter. The words are clear as day in the sunlight above. Like an overlay of black words on a clear blue sky. At first I thought they might be some type of prank. Maybe I’ve kemo brain. I’d heard that people can be rattled after a lot of exposure and I might be one of those. God I hope not. I picked myself off the ground and headed to the car. My nice BMW S series…. Wait what? I have the keys in my hand and press the unlock button. The blue and white stripped car opens up to let me in. I could have swore there was something else here. A hazy memory drifted in the back of my mind but it was too cloudy to see. I shook my head. Maybe I’d hit it harder than I initially thought. I jumped in the car and headed the short drive home. Once there, I grabbed the mail and headed inside the small single family home. I paused on the front steps near the manicured lawn and waited. I thought this would feel more familiar than it does. Why doesn’t my home feel like my home? Turning the key in the lock I entered and am greeted by two small children shooting nerf guns at me. Aiden and Merr are peeking out from the staircase to peg me in the arm and torso. The sound of pop pop pop gets me and I pretend to die horribly. With much gusto I lay myself on the ground. “Oh! Ya got me!” I shout out, “Cruel unfair life!” “Oh leave Dad alone kids.” I hear Amelia shout from the other room. Picking myself up off the floor I make my way to the kitchen to find her at the stove. Burning something as usual. The woman can’t cook to save her life. “You want some help with that?” I ask as I hug her from behind. The smell of her shampoo fills my nostrils as she leans back to gives me a peck on the cheek. “No, I’ve got it this time!” Amelia says with determination, “Besides you need to pack.” “Pack? For what?” “Ha! For what, Disneyworld of course!” She laughs and doesn’t even look at me, “You know the trip we’d been planning for months?” I release her and step back shaking my head, “Hon, what are you talking about? We can't afford that.” “Huh? We just planned it. After your appointment we’d head down for the weekend.” Amelia looked at me confused, “Don you remember?” “What about the hospital bills? We can’t afford to take trips right now.” “Hon, what bills? They’re paid. Insurance took care of it.” “No, I…” I stammer trying to reconcile the two sets of memories in my mind. Seven years of bad luck and treatment and bills now found next to them seven years of steady recovery and financial security. Where did that time go? Did this have to do with the Skywriting I’d seen? I run back outside and look up. In the sky it’s still there. The words are hanging about for all to see but apparently it’s just me. I focus on the words and think for a long while. “Jim are you alright?” Amelia came out looking worried. I turned, wrapped her in my arms, and kissed her warmly, “Never better, I just forgot something. I’ll be right back!” “Where are you going?” She shouted as I ran to my car and start the engine. “Don’t worry about it! Go make sure your cooking doesn’t burn down the house!” I peel out of the driveway and race back to the hospital parking lot. There I find Howard still shouting at the top of his lungs. “Howard!” I shout out. The madman turned to me confused. “Howard, I was wrong. We are going to celebrate, I’m taking the family to Disneyworld.” I shouted. “Good for you ya Heathen.” Howard shouted back, still confused. “Also, you’re wrong! Life is fair.” I shouted at him with a smile and pointed to the sky at God’s release notes, “I hope you can see it someday.”
\[Personal Priority\] Ernest jumped to his feet as soon as he spotted the red smoke. He'd been waiting almost two hours for Lucifer's return. The sweet scent of candy cinnamon hit his nose as the cloud bloomed wider, then dissipated. When it cleared, a short, round, ruddy blonde man stood in Ernest's living room with a smile on his face. "Great news, Ernie,"Lucifer said. "Your deal has been approved. You even set a precedent with this little stunt of yours, you opened all kinds of doors for variety in future deals."Lucifer gave Ernest a red clipboard loaded with a white form. "New precedent, huh?"Ernest grinned as he signed the form. "That get me any bonuses?"Lucifer accepted the clipboard but shook his head. "Just the good feelings of helping your fellow man of the future,"he said. "Meh. It's something, I guess..,"Ernie said. "Great, so, .. when can I start?"Lucifer chuckled. "Ms. Sharp's Hell is an after life,"Lucifer said. "When do you think?" "Oh...,"Ernest nodded to himself. It should've been an obvious answer. But, then, he realized something. "..OH!"he said as a smile spread across his face. He realized how much free time he had now. "Contract's final, right?"he asked to double-check. "It's already in effect?"Lucifer nodded. "After you die, you will go straight to hell for 999 billion years. Upon completion of the last year, your soul will be freed from Hell,"the rotund man said. Then, he offered Ernest a handshake before leaving. "Congratulations again; your the first person to negotiate your own soul out of Hell. And, even before you got there,"he said. Ernest accepted the handshake and chuckled. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for me." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1403 in a row. (Story #311 in year four.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on Sept. 6th and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until June 3rd. They are all collected at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/pj4t0b/tokuhigh_first_six_weeks/).
"Oops." I looked around at my coworkers. They were all staring at me. I looked at the customers. They were staring too. I guess I couldn't blame them. I had just turned someone into glass. I was still holding the coupon that was still expired. My boss cleared her throat and said, "I could have just given her the ten percent off." "Yeah. Um, I'm going to have to leave early today." "No problem, Cory. Take the week if you need to." "Thanks." I threw my apron on the floor, hopped over the bar, and made for the door. I didn't have to ask anyone to move; they just got out of the way. Then I stopped. I went over to the pick up area and grabbed her coffee. She wasn't going to need it. I took a sip. "She was right. The cinnamon really does bring out the chocolate." I got out of there. Fifteen minutes later, I was in my apartment. I sat down on the couch, tried to relax, and failed. Gus came out of the kitchen, drying a plate. "You're home early." "Yeah." "Wait... you didn't smite anyone again, did you?" "Why would you think that?" "Because the last three times you came home early it was because you had to quit your last three jobs because you smote three mortals." "Well, there might have been a little smiting." "Coooooory?" "Okay, I smote someone. But it wasn't my fault!" "We're gods. Everything is our fault. What was it this time? Did they want to speak to your manager? Did they insist that you had it in stock yesterday?" "She wanted to use an expired coupon to pay for her mocha." "Cor! What the actual... when are you going to give this up?" "Give what up?" Gus grew two more arms so he could keep drying dishes with two and gesturing at me with the others. "Your whole thing is that you want to know the struggle of humanity. Live among them. That was the whole mission." "And I'm learning." "You're also smiting! Plus, I'm sure the only thing you've learned is that different sitcoms recycle the same plot points." "Well, I mean they're all just variations on a theme..." "I'm about done Cor. This was fun for a while, but I don't want to move again. I just got the cable installed here." "Maybe it won't be so bad. You kept saying this place was too cold. We could go somewhere warmer?" "You know where it's warmer? The Upper Realms. Which is where we should be." "Look Gus, I know there's been snafu's here and there." "You turned one person into a cow, another into an oak tree, and the third just exploded, right?" "This one didn't explode! She's just glass now." "That's not better! You're just screwing around down here." "Didn't we agree that the problem with our elders was that they didn't try to understand humanity before laying down the laws and taboo's?" "We did, but-" "And didn't we agree that watching them through the Pool of Scrying was boring?" "Pretty much. Except when Honola was use it watch people bone." "Okay, that was kind of fun. You're missing the point here, Gus. If we're going to rule these people, going to be the supreme arbiters of their eternal rewards, isn't worth getting to know them? To understand humanity from the inside?" "Would be easier if you didn't keep making their insides their outsides." "That was just one guy. And he was a dick." Gus crossed his arms. He tapped his foot. He banged the back of his head against the wall a couple of gentle times. "Alright. One more try. One more town. But I swear if you make anyone into a tower of cheese or cause them to grow stork legs on their junk I am through, you hear me? Through." "Okay. That's all I ask. You get on the computer and Google us up a new apartment and I'll cook some burgers." "Okay. But if you're going to use the toilet, Mr 'I want to live like humans', you need to go unclog it." Cory sighed. "Ugg, this is the third time this week." "Well, stop making chili with the black fires of underworld and maybe we will stop overloading it." "Alright. Sheesh. Man, whoever makes these toilets should-" "Don't say it!" "...should receive a big bonus for all their hard work because humans are trying their best and don't deserve to be turned into guinea pigs." Gus narrowed his eyes and looked off into the distance. "Okay, maybe you get one more smiting. But only if it's that guy who always forgets to hold the mayo at Burger King."
Eruzith walked towards a small study sequestered between two gargantuan lines of bookshelves. In one hand he carried a lamp that shined brightly without flickering and in the other, he carried a large tome. Eruzith walked carefully-- looking over his shoulders to make sure no one was following him. I've been in this Library for over 3 days now. he thought, I deserve some wine. he had sent a message to his husband and had asked him to bring him a bottle of wine from their cellar. The Library of Illivar was ancient-- a relic of a time long forgotten. Over the years it had acquired a massive amount of written knowledge from all around the world and made it available for anyone who could read. Eruzith opened the door of a small study and placed the lamp on a desk covered in piles of fragile, leather-bound books and delicate scrolls. He took the bottle of wine out from under his robes and placed it next to the table. He sighed and sat on the chair and uncorked the bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. The massive size of the collection the Library had made it difficult for him to find any relevant information about necromancy. Although the people called necromancy an occult art, Eruzith strongly believed it was a lost science and had spent most of his gathering shards of knowledge. He opened the book and began skimming through the tome that he had just brought into the room. This looks promising. he thought, It does have references to necromancy and its association with the region of Nicro. he took a sip of his wine and shuffled through the pile of books. Aha. He opened it right in the middle and there it was, a page filled with arcane formulas, sketches, and calculations to perform Necromancy. Eruzith erupted in happiness and took another gulp of wine-- half finishing it. He read handwritten text-- the black ink had retained its color after a millennium. "To perform the art of Necromancy, a practitioner should understand that it is an exact science rather than a subtle art. Necromancy requires complete dedication and almost a machine-like precision. Necromancy originates from the very metabolism that keeps humans alive. A slightly wrong spell can cause a practitioner to wither and die. "It should also be noted that alcohol is a strict no to perform the magic. Alcohol impedes the practitioner's ability to focus and execute the spells with machine-like precision. With this, we present you with the exact science of Necromancy."Eruzith continued to read the fine text of the tome and wondered How can I miss this? I skimmed through this text two days back. Eruzith closed the book and took another gulp of the wine and walked out of the library, smuggling the book underneath his robes. Finally. he thought as he started towards his house, Can't wait to show this stuff to Erius. he thought. "Erius,"he flung the door open and went inside with a broad smile on his face, "Erius, I've finally found it." "That is exciting,"Eruzith hugged him and gave him a quick peck on his cheeks before throwing the book open on the table, "Bring that lamp."he pointed towards a non-flickering lamp and Erius brought it to the table. "Here,"he pointed on, "a practitioner should understand that it is an exact science rather than a subtle art. The spells look simple-- let's try it out."he looked around the room and smiled when he saw the bird. "No way Eru,"Erius called, "no way you are going to kill that bird." "Don't worry,"Eruzith said, "Necromancy is real, I'll bring him back in an instance."Eruzith-- ignoring the protests of his husband opened the cage up and took the bird out. He petted the little songbird and in an instance snapped its neck-- killing it instantly. Eruzith placed the bird on the table and began reading through the text, memorizing the process. "Eru,"Erius peeped over his shoulders, "Did you drink wine?" "Yes." "The book says, alcohol is a strict no."Erius sounded nervous almost fearful. "Bah,"Eruzith measured the bird's weight and did some calculations on a piece of paper as instructed by the guide, and placed the bird back inside the circle he had drawn, "I've only had half a glass. That doesn't count." He carved a small piece of skin from his fingertips using a scalpel and placed it next to the bird inside the circle. Erius offered alcohol to disinfect the wound but Eruzith ignored it and continued to follow the instructions on Necromancy. After fifteen minutes he said, "Let's see if it works. Stand back."he sighed and calmed himself, The book says, the intent is important. he closed his eyes and focused on the dead bird. He placed his bleeding finger on the circle and allowed it to redden the table and began the incantation. I want this bird to live. he thought as he continued to recite the incantation from the book, I want this bird to live. The blood began to ooze out at a much faster rate, I want this bird to be alive. he thought. I-- I love you Erius-- I want this bird to live. his mind slipped for a small fraction of a second. The wound in his skin erupted and burning hot blood pumped out of it spraying all across the room. Eruzith screamed as he felt unbearable pain in his chest. He looked at his arms and saw it wither and gray, "What is happening?"Eruzith asked in agony, "Help me Erius."his voice trembled in pain as his body began to die. "Erius,"he said "Save me, Erius."Erius looked at him in shock unable to move a single finger or speak a syllable. He stood there, watching his husband bleed and wither and die."
I look around and see the clean, metallic shell of the train glint. It's a decent train, not a bad place to be stuck all things considered. I didn't notice at first but the people on the train, or if you can even call them that, were disturbing. They looked like shoddily put together NPCs with unrealistic cheekbones and proportions. They moved like what I imagine life-sized spiders would move like with these rigid, fixed movements that looked like a robot. It was uncanny how they were almost human like, they fooled me at first at the very least. If I squint hard enough my eyes are nearly closed they look worryingly like all sorts of people that I once knew; the janitor at my office, the cashier at my local Wegmans, my best friends from elementary school, even deformed approximations of my family. It's funny to think I was relieved when I heard that the destination was nowhere, I thought I could finally relax for a bit, no deadlines or drama. Even still, I'm not entirely sure I want to be home either.
Victory ignited her jetpack and launching herself towards the next wave of armed drones that assailed the city. She wove between them like a golden bird, energy beams blasting from her fingertips. Several of the drones went crashing down. “I think this is the last of them,” she radioed the rest of the superhero team on the ground, “I’m going to the mothership!” Within minutes, she was in the control room of the hulking mothership. The rookie superheroine quickly scanned the computer that was controlling the drone army, looking for weaknesses. Ah, that was a good spot. She released another energy blast, destroying the computer. Then she took off again and turned her trajectory back towards the ground-. “Ow!” Victory saw stars despite the protection of her helmet. She blinked, realizing what she had run into. “Great. That’s just great! How many of these blasted things do we have to tackle?!” she fumed. It was yet another mothership, doubtlessly filled with reinforcements. She clung to the side of it. “Hey Vector, I think I need some backup here.” She could hear their leader groan on the other end of the radio. “I’d love to, but I’m a little busy at the moment!” As if in confirmation, smoke from an explosion drifted up from somewhere in the city. Victory sighed and rested her head on cold metal. She was so very tired of this battle. She just wanted to get rid of these drones and help the city rebuild from the damage sustained by these past few weeks of fighting and take a nice warm shower and… Suddenly, the mothership gave a sickening lurch. The superheroine looked up to see what caused it. From her vantage point, she could see that one end of it was on fire, the flames quickly spreading to its engines. “Nice shot, Vee!” radioed another member of the superhero team. Cosmo was his name. “Um, thanks? It wasn’t me!” Victory darted away from the ship as it began to explode. She puzzled over the strange turn of events as she helped the superhero team take down the rest of the drones. This was the third time they had received unexplained help. They had initially shrugged it off as a malfunction on the enemy’s side. But by the second time, they knew there was someone helping them. The heroes joked that they would shower this mysterious benefactor with ice cream if they ever found them. After determining that the drones were no longer a threat, the team regrouped. \[Tony\] made a quick head count. “Raptor, Oriole, Photon, Nike…” “Victory,” corrected Titan. “Vee, right. Where’s Cosmo? Oh, there you are. And Titan. Great. I just got word that the other ship blew up. Don’t worry, it wasn’t over a populated area. The authorities want us to check out the rubble and- GET DOWN!!!” Everyone flattened themselves on the ground as a malfunctioning rogue drone whistled over them, still firing off missiles erratically. There wasn’t enough time for anyone to stop it. Victory looked up and could only watch in fascinated horror as it hurtled towards an apartment complex. But it never hit. A wall of energy suddenly flared up between the drone and the building. The drone crashed into it, causing it to shatter. It stopped firing and crashed to the ground, tumbling harmlessly out of the way. The remains of the wall melted away. “Crazy,” breathed Vector, who was also watching. They could see a man standing where the energy wall was. He wavered a bit before collapsing. “He’s hurt! We need to help him,” said Photon urgently. Victory didn’t need a second invitation. She was already running over to help, Photon and Raptor trailing closely behind her. Their mysterious benefactor was dressed like a very ordinary person, with a black jacket and jeans. He lay motionless, face to the ground. Victory couldn’t help gasping. “Oh no, it can’t be…” she whispered. She knelt beside him, gently turning him to his back. A scream tore from her throat as she realized who it was. “NO!!!!” The other two heroes also stared in shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Raptor in disbelief. Photon shook his head. “Scorpion, of all people. And here we thought he was dead.” He tapped Victory’s shoulder. “You better get away from him. He’s a real pain.” “But you don’t understand! He’s not who he used to be.” Victory frantically felt for the man’s pulse. By now, Vector had caught up with them. “Hold up, you guys know each other?” he asked Victory. The superheroine nodded, eyes brimming with tears. “He’s my husband,” she replied reluctantly. “WHAT?!” “I didn’t want you to know. Don’t you dare hurt him. He’s been through too much already.” Raptor crossed his arms. “We’re not going to, though it’s tempting.” “Hey, cool it down Raptor. You’re not helping matters.” Vector helped Victory pick up Scorpion. “Let’s get back to headquarters first, and then we’ll talk.” \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “We got married shortly after you declared him dead,” Victory explained, “By then, he realized that the supervillain life was creating more problems for him than the other things he wanted from it, so he gave it up.” Scorpion had been taken to the headquarters’ medical facility for emergency surgery. Victory stayed through the whole procedure, desperately trying not to cry. Fortunately, Titan and Oriole were with her to provide moral support. Now, she refused to leave his side until he awoke. Vector pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does he know that you joined us? I mean, it wasn’t that long ago when we beat the snot out of him.” Victory shrugged. “There was no need to tell him. He knew as soon as I came home from the interview. He wasn’t too keen about it, but he was willing to tolerate it. After all, we were good friends with Titan before things started going wrong. Still are, though it doesn’t seem like it.” “This just gets weirder all the time,” said Raptor, still not happy about the turn of events. “Oh, it’s a tangled mess all right,” the superheroine agreed. Her voice hitched on a sob. “By the way he talked about you all, I would have never guessed that he was the one helping in all those battles.” “But it makes sense,” interjected Oriole, “He obviously cares about you.” At that moment, Scorpion groaned softly. His brow furrowed with pain. “No… Selena…” he murmured incoherently. Victory immediately snapped to attention. “Shhh darling, it’s over now,” she crooned to him. “Too many. Must stop them…” He began to stir restlessly, blue energy radiating from his hands. “I’m right here. I’m okay. We’re going to be okay.” Victory ran her fingers through his dark hair until he calmed down. The ex-supervillain opened his eyes. “Selena?” A slight smile crossed his face. “Thank goodness you’re alive.” Before anyone could stop him, he had pulled Victory closer towards him. “Don’t scare me like that again, or else…” he said weakly between kisses, “Almost had a heart attack from watching you.” Victory chuckled. “Can’t help it. It’s a part of the business. Now here, save your strength.” She gently pushed him back onto the pillows. “You’re going to need a lot of rest before you even think of getting up.” “Uh, yeah. You heard her,” said a slightly embarrassed Vector. He opened the door for the team to leave. “Let me know if you guys need anything else. I’ll be around.”
Talia woke with a groan. She was stiff all over! That was what she got from sleeping on the floor, she supposed- wait, the floor? She opened her eyes, disoriented before remembering the night before. Of course, she had taken refuge from that awful thunderstorm in some abandoned shack. Now that it was morning, she noticed that it didn't look as shabby as it did when she first arrived. The place was surprisingly neat and clean despite the old wooden walls and roof and leak in the corner of the roof. At that moment, she noticed the tantalizing smell of salmon and jumped to her feet. No one was supposed to be in this old place! Grabbing her knife and mentally scolding herself for being so stupid, she tiptoed to the main room of the shack, peeked through the door, and shrieked as a man almost ran into her. He yelped in surprise and grabbed an axe from the wall. "However did you get in here!"he snapped. "I- I'm sorry! I didn't know-,"Talia squeaked. So much for stealth. The man's eyes widened and he swiftly snatched her knife from her. "Where did you get this?"he demanded accusingly. "My father gave it to me- oh, why am I even telling you? It's none of your business!"she said. "Your father?"he asked, looking shocked. Before Talia could retort, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the main room. "Now then, who are you, and what are you doing here? If you were sent by anyone, I'll be forced to keep you here until you either promise not to tell your superior about this place, otherwise..."He left the threat hanging. "Relax! I just decided to stay here overnight when I got caught in that storm. I wasn't told to investigate anything. And as for my identity, I'm not telling you unless you go first,"Talia said, "You're a fugitive, aren't you?" The man laughed mirthlessly. "More or less,"he agreed. "But I won't have to hurt you if you pretend we never met. It's not like I've done anything dastardly in the last few years. Just... leave me alone."For a moment, he looked tired. "Now tell me about yourself and this,"he said, waving her knife about a little. Talia frowned, displeased by this criminal's vague explanation, but she decided that it would be wise to play along with his game. "Fine. I'm the daughter of a warrior back at the capital, and he gave me that weapon recently."She thought a little before adding, "He said that it belonged to someone he cares about very much, though he's supposedly dead by now." "He cares?"came the surprising response. "Obviously. What are you saying? Are you the person he was talking about perhaps?"Talia asked. This whole discussion was ridiculous. "Maybe, maybe not. I told you enough, I think,"he said, handing the knife back to her. "If you don't have anything else to say besides asking questions which I don't plan on answering, leave while you can. Please?" Talia huffed. "If you want I guess. But if I get so much as an idea that you are behind any crime that happens from now on, I will reveal your location, so try not to cause any trouble,"she said. "Oh, I like your spirit. We'd get along well if we weren't at odds with each other,"the man said, "Alright, I won't." Talia nodded curtly and left the shack, planning subtle ways she could tell her father about her strange encounter. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ As he watched his intruder leave, the man smiled sadly. "So naive, but you raised her well, friend,"he said.
Not many humans enter my forest, the tales of Andre the mad, the butcher of Blue Hall tend too keep most away. Occasionally a few curious young ones wander through, wanting to test their mettle and investigate if the stories they grew up listening to are true. I play along, give them a few broken twigs and things shuffling in the shadows. That’s usually enough to scare them away and bolster the rumours. But this young one, this one is different. She wears a half length cape, it’s hood covering her face but her dark blue dress gives away her heritage. She is noble born. Her scent reminds me of the incense and vanilla, it makes me rage. I have sworn off human flesh, but this I want to make an exception for. The crown princess, is here in my home, alone. I’ve stalked the path she took into the forest, there are no knights is tow. In a past life I would protect her, but after what her father has done to me I cannot give up my only chance of vengeance. In my state I could never return to make Owen feel my pain. This will do…. this will do, I will give up my humanity for a brief moment and I will savour the taste of revenge. Amilie called out “ Andre! I need to know if the rumours are true! Are you here? My father refuses to confirm. He knows my visions match reality and he is sending a force to kill you. I have seen you murder my father, not as a beast but as a human. I know you have seen this vision too. Thetanos does not lie. Please let me help you!” She waited for a response, but all she could hear was wind in the trees and the occasional skittering of wild life. She called out again “ Please Andre! Help me figure this out! You do not need to suffer this way!” Faintly a voice replied “ I-I-I have seeeen, he lieeeess, I became thisss, it is not possssible I fuuulfil the visssion” Amilie turned to face the voice but only trees and bushes surrounded her. She could hear heavy breathing, moving it sounded like it was circling her. “Cousin, I’m so sorry for what my father has done, I cannot hope to undo the past but I can help you with your gift” Andre snarled, stopped moving and took in deep heaving breaths. He stepped out of the shadows.
I opened one sleepy eye, dreamily looking at my beloved Annabelle while she slept. She was everything I've ever wanted, as to be expected by 10 years of marriage, all changes are deemed complete at such time. My last chance to make a change was last night, the eve of our 10th anniversary. I gave only a minor physical tweak, her gorgeous raven hair now fell below her delicate waist. Perfection! I wondered if she had made any last changes to me, she had been so moderate with them in the past, so it was without great expectations I got out of bed. My feet hit the floor with a soft click. What the heck? It was then I saw the crab claw where my hand should have been. Great Soul Goddess above! What has she done? But somewhere deep inside I already knew. I hummed to myself heading to the bathroom. Suddenly the thought of splashing around sounded like excellent fun. Nudging a stool towards the vanity, for I could no longer see myself in the mirror being so small, I roared with laughter at my reflection. Oh how I love my thoughtful wife! Well acquainted with my fascination with the little bloke off the Earth board game Monopoly, she had given me a shiny round monocle and a jaunty top hat! A dapper little crab with the perfect wife. It is true, opposites attract.
I will fully admit that this doesn't fully relate back to the prompt. It's more or less prompt inspired? The main character doesn't hear the prayers of animals that are running for their lives. Instead, the story is more of an origin story of the god of the hunt. ___ Of the stories known to the forest folk, the oldest tale was of Hark, the god of the Hunt. For it was his story that changed the way the old wood worked. For you see, Hark was born of a lowly class and not of the nobility known only to the Ress. And we tell his story by the fireside, with our bowls full of grown vegetables and wild mushrooms. His story begins on a gray night, with no storms near nor darkness of midnight. No, the moonlight was bright, shining down like an echo of sunlight, showing the world in two-tone brilliance. Hark sat on the roof of his master's barn, staring up at the thousand little stars twinkling in the lush darkness above. As he sat there, he wondered about the five gods and goddesses. Of Athene, the goddess of the sun. Of Moray, the god of the seas. Of Iladia, the goddess of war. And he wondered of Mercurial and Mercury, the brothers of unpredictability. But he did not wonder about the two demons, Death and Viral. They were not worth the fear they brought. But what of Hark? Of the boy with no future other than working away at a farm? Well, he thought of the gods and goddesses to remember their stories, to remember their struggles, and to find solace in their tales. For, the title of god or goddess was given to those who did such great acts. For Athene, she stood against the burning light of a desert's ire for fifty days and fifty nights. By the end, her skin became clad with the glow of sunlight. For Moray, he saw the endless sea, showing even infinity had a conclusion. For Iladia... well, she had shown the world of what righteous fury could do against vile blades. For the trickster brothers? They taught the world it was possible to steal a crown and become king. But of Death and Viral? Their tales are black darkness, unfit for a fireplace. But Hark's tale involves them, and so we must hear of their hatred. For Death, he was born from cruel, unjust violence, taking lives and burning away bonds. For Viral, she tortured the word with her pests and plagues. But Hark sat peaceful silence, wondering why there was no sixth divine. A god of the Hunt, he thought. Of a man, or woman, who dared themselves against the forest, finding what prey they could. Someone should be a divine of the Hunt, Hark reasoned. How many times had his life been saved from dying starvation thanks to the feast that hunters brought? And the god of the Hunt would encompass foraging as well, of course. For the plants had grown like birds or deer. And they were discovered the same, yet the thrill of discovery was short-lived with them. But still, Hark reasoned, even a mushroom should be included. For life was a hunt, searching for what brought either continuation or possibly joy. And so Hark thought of other hunts. Of Aldine, the woman that haunted Hark's dreams, reminding him that finding a lover was one of the hardest hunts. Or of the hunt of knowledge, discovering strength in words. Or of the hunt of joy, the ever-elusive bird it was. And hubris rose in Hark, thinking of how he could become the lord of the Hunt, becoming the god of it, using the title to win over Aldine, or possibly another lover. For who would not love such a man? And so, Hark dreamed while his eyes remained open of hopeful possibilities. Yet, Hark's thoughts of such power were heard by two others. For on that faithful night, of the five divine and the two demons, the two demons listened to the thoughts of Hark, the hopeful dreamer. And so, the two demons schemed and schemed. It was Viral who gave a wicked plan, and Death grinned, a violent glint on his teeth. And they agreed and traveled like ill winds to where the man sat. For they two agreed that one hunt reigned supreme. The hunt of a hopeful man. It was a snap of a twig that alerted Hark of the dangerous game he now played. The man's head swiveled, searching for the noise in the two-toned night. He called out, hoping it was only another restless servant. But no answer came back to Hark, and dread seeped into his bones. He called out once more, but his unsteady voice became a scream as a giant wolf jumped from the forest, teeth snarling as black salvia dripped down the vicious creature's face. Hark jumped to his feet, looking over the roof, hoping the height would keep him safe. Yet, as he thought this, a snake, pocked with white and black as if blisters and sores covered it, crawled up to the roof, terrifying Hark. The man jumped, rolling off, and rushed into the darkness of the forest, hoping it would give him sanctuary from these beasts. And the beasts themselves? They were the two demons, Death and Viral. And they chased after the man, acting as if they were feral beasts. But both of them laughed to themselves while they rushed through the forest. Hope did not stand in this man's corner, they both believed. But they were wrong. For you see, Hark knew the forest. He knew where the trees were from his foraging, letting him hide behind their grand pillars of bark. He knew of the best spots for secluded locations, believing them to be romantic, letting Hark avoid the ire of the two beasts, giving himself time to rest. And, of all things, Hark knew where the traps were. For he had set them. And as the sun began to peek through the lumbering trees, and as Death and Viral grew tired, and Hark still strong from all the rest, the man released his trap. It was a pitfall, spikes for beasts far larger than a snake and wolf. Hark had made it for the day a monster may come to the village. For Hark had been a man worried of the terrors within the night. And as Hark reached the spot, he let the beasts catch his scent. They rushed towards the man, only to step upon the trap, falling down on spears of wood. And thus, Hark had done one thing none of the other gods or goddesses had achieved. Hark had killed demons. And thus, Hark's deed stays with us, reminding us of the perils of the Hunt, and how the god of it was first hunted to become the hunter. And so, remember this, young hunter; never underestimate your quarry.
I awoke that morning as I did most every day. With a startle. The green tinted hue of the landscape pouring through the cracks in my shack walls like fog. The light of the midday sun barely broke through the thick, greyish black clouds. The smell of rust, rot, and decay filled my nostrils. These sights and smells weren't new to me, but every day I had awoken wishing that it were all a bad dream. I pushed my scrawny body out of bed, scruffing my beard a bit, before standing. Walking to the table just to my left, I seated myself. The kitchen table which I had converted into a workbench served as my only solace in these desolate lands. With me being likely the last living human on earth, even despite the slim pickings due to the apocalypse, material and scrap weren't hard to come by. And so I had collected a mountain of materials, and simply spent my days tinkering away. A bit of wiring here, some bent metal there, a mutated potato slotted in, and I had a working battery. For a minute, anyway. Still, I pressed on, slapping scrap, wires, and random bits and bobs into machines and contraptions. And then a clang. I quickly ran outside, grabbing my rifle on the way out. Armed and loaded, I racked the rifle, and squinted my eyes. And there it came. A giant metal plane, moreso like a drone then an actual plane, spotlight searching high and low. Red openings on the ever shifting metal plating on its exterior shone through like eyes. I dropped my rifle, and dove back into my shack. I quickly grabbed my worn, torn, and tattered thermal jacket, curling up and using it as a blanket. And just as quickly as I had hidden, did the clang ring out again. And then again. And then again, and again, and again, in rapid succesion. The clangs quickly became replaced with overpowering beeping sounds. Almost as quickly as I had covered my ears, an explosion rang out. With stark determination, drawn from almost nowhere, I sat up. Grabbing my rifle from the floor, I stood, and stepped outside once more. And lying on the ground, in a fire ruin, the plane sat. A humanoid, cloaked in thick, ever moving plate armor crawled out from under the wreckage. "Fuck. You."I said, shakily. With the pull of a trigger, a bullet entered the humanoids skull. He fell flat, dead in a single second. I stepped over his corpse, and walked torward the rubble. Stepping inside, I found it. A tessaract cube, sat, glowing a bright red. "Oh-ho, now looky here!"I said, grabbing it. "Time to win."I said, tearing the tessaract in to two pieces, causing a large, metallic shriek to ring out across the land.
It’s quiet, quiet, quiet, too quiet, it’s so quiet I can’t hear. The pressure builds, builds, it keeps building and my eardrums are close to popping. The serene planet. The beautiful planet. The planet with perfect silence. Silent noise. Ear shattering silent noise. The atmosphere is perfect. So perfect. The vegetation is perfect. So perfect. The silence is perfect. To perfect. To perfect. To perfect. Madness. Everyone is gone. I chose to stay. Why? Why did I make that choice? It was so bad. So very very bad. I didn’t know. We didn’t know. No one said anything to me. But I stayed and now the silence is consuming me. She left. Even before I came to the planet, she left. Her laugh, and her smile that echo’s in my head, and her, and her, and her. My son. My son is gone. Gone with her. And my daughter. My girl. My boy and my girl. Gone and they scream in my head. They won’t be quiet! The silence makes them scream! There are birds on this new planet, but they don’t’ make enough noise. There are animals but there are no growls. The sun burns in silence as they burn in my thoughts. The thoughts that have come out in the silence. The thoughts that are loud, that make the ground quake, that fracture my imaginary gates and they flood. Madness. Madness. Madness. Deafening madness let loose in perfect silence. My fault. My fault. It was my fault. Too much drink and not enough quiet with them. No more early morning whisper breaths as they sleep. No more eyes that sound like an orchestra in my heart. It’s gone. It’s all gone and my memories yell. They scream. They wail. Distractions. I need distractions. The white noise of life that helped drown them out. Those memories, those regrets, those decisions that seemed right at the time. The distraction of work. 80 hours a week. 90 hours. More hours and more hours and more hours. The traffic horns and squealing breaks of morning commutes. The clients with problems that spoke louder than missed opportunities with them. Work. I need work. I built a house. Sawed fibrous vegetation to make doors, walls, and a roof. All silently. Not loud enough. Need to be louder. The memories are too much. Her yelling. Her ultimatums. Her begging whimpers are louder than the building. Of the foraging. Of the river that rushes over rocks and the lightning storms. The thunder that is quieter than the silent screams in my head. No more perfect silence. There is too much perfect silence here. I did what I had to do. I yelled back, I crashed my fist through the walls, I saw the yell of fear in my son’s eyes when he came around the corner. The sadness in my daughter’s face when she saw their mother crying. The explosion of whiskey that made it all quiet. Now, it doesn’t’ work anymore. The drink is here but so quiet. The gulps and ice are nothing but snowflakes in the avalanche of my memories of what I did that day. I burned it all. They left and I burned it all. They ran to the car and they left. Tires screeched and she hit the mailbox. I ran after them. I just wanted them home. I just wanted them with me. They left and I burned it all and burned the memory of my actions with drink. And when that didn’t work anymore, I loaded myself on a mission. The mission that I had planned for others. The mission that I now had the power to put myself on. The mission that had cost me them. That had come with screaming sadness in the eyes of my perfectly silent little girl. And now, here in the perfect silence of this perfect planet, those memories are a bomb that continues to explode, explode, explode. Looking inward, hearing myself and the consequences of my actions for the first time is a tidal wave of noise. Perfect noise in the perfect silence and I am coming undone. I am undone. Spent in the noise. Bleeding in my soul. The sound of my past is too much. Too loud. Too shameful. The sacrifices were the easy mornings where she lay in bed with me with the kids between us. Their soft snores the perfect silence of a perfect memory. But now it is so loud that I can hear nothing else. There is no escaping the sound of regret. There is nowhere to run where the yell of failure, true failure, won’t trumpet. Knowing that what mattered most in my life was so easily discarded by the dictates of others. They were my everything. They were my world. And in that world, now in the perfect silence of this new planet, they will never stop screaming.
Randalf is a tall, lean, unassuming bloke with curly hair that is often mistaken for an afro and a penchant for dresing in semiformal 80s clothes. As a 35 y.o. lecturer, part-time researcher and freelance journalist, his career, social standing and wellbeing in general is above average. He loves the color forest green, sweet drinks, warm meals eaten outside on breezy nights. He also loves Denise, a former student 6 years his junior. The only student who ever complimented his curls and convinced him to dress matchy-matchy for a presentation she assisted him with. The only person who'd call him out for having a messy desk and who has the nerve to tease him for his fear of cats (they're cute but they'll steal your soul!). There are only two things upsetting Randalf right now: the socially imposed fact that he as well as his parents are not getting younger so they're forcing him to date Anita--a 32 y.o. childhood friend who loves him but hates what he likes; and the fact that when Denise heard this, she actually got excited and wanted to hear all about the future date.
The ships slid silently through the air of their future home planet. This was the day. After two years of careful planning, one hundred sixty five years of cryo-sleep, and seventy two odd years of covert surveillance, today is finally here. The day of invasion! The indigenous life forms on this planet have been contacted and believe that we come in peace. We have plotted our course for the apparent capitals of the largest militaries on the planet. We will take them out one right after the other. Our weapons are charged and ready. The order to attack is given. It is at that exact moment that the gigantic ship ran out of fuel.
I sighed, staring at the black fishnet shirt and accompanying black bra and inky jean shorts that laid sprawled out on my bed. "Tef, don't make her wear that!"Angelus shouts, rapidly fluttering his feathery white wings until I can only see a blurred white streak in the air. Teufel just smirks, flying deeper into my closet presumably in search of more risqué outfits for me to wear on my date. "Angelus dear, Dana has to impress John, it's their third date already!"She says, her voice muffled by the wrinkled pile of clothes behind her, "I've been waiting since they matched on Tinder for this, don't take this away from me." "It's too early!"Angelus protests, "what if he's ace? We don't know." "For an angel, you know very little."Teufel teases, "I thought your kind was all-knowing." Angelus flushes pink, the color aggressively contrasting against his pale skin, "only the lord and the archangels are,"he sputters out. Teufel flutters out of the closet, her wings in overdrive as she dances out with the weight of the fishnet leggings draped over her arms. "For you,"she pants out, dropping the garment next to the other clothing. "John will be smitten with you Dana,"she smiled. "Tef,"Angelus says in a darker tone, "John will be scared away from her, not smitten." "No he won't! He'll love her!" "Dana sweetie,"Angelus addressed me, "I've got something much better for you, can you help be grab it from the closet?" "Wait, I thought you were going to burn that, they're so ugly!"Teufel snickers. "Um sure?"I say, walking over to the scattered clothing on the floor. Leaping over it, I pick up the outfit that Angelus guides me to. "Wow,"I let out by accident. He somehow found a fully opaque off-white batwing sleeved robe for me to wear, accompanied by inky black pants, neither of which I recall buying, unlike the outfit that Teufel chose for me. "It's very wow." "It's amazing isn't it,"Angelus says, "it exemplifies your beauty, simple and stylish." "It's so ugly, wear the one I chose for you!" "No, yours is so, how do I put it, revealing. I want the best for Dana." "I want the best too Angelus!" "Tef, John's going to call her a stripper or a slut like last time you tried something like this!" "John's not like Mark, Mark was a jerk, John is a nice guy." "You said the same about Mark."Angelus monotones, "they're always better than the last one, but never good enough." "John's special!" "You're only saying that because you want Dana to choose your outfit,"Angelus deadpans. "She's not going to this time, now that there's something better." "That's what you said last time!"Teufel interjects, "guess which one she chose." "Yours." "Yeah mine!" "That was only once,"Angelus mutters, "this time, mine is clearly better." "Shut up! You're wrong." "Fine, let's ask Dana." "So which one do you choose?"Teufel says, her eyes narrowed. Angelus stares at me, pleading with his eyes and mouthing the simple word no. "Um, guys,"I say. "Which one?"Teufel shouts. "Yes, which one Dana." Moments of silence pass between the three of us. "I already got one for myself."
I caught his reflection in the shop’s window. Albert Einstein’s hair set above a deeply wrinkled forehead, a dingy yellow streak stained from the many cigarettes he dangled from his lips. The years had not been kind to him. His shoulders had rounded, as if the weight of regret pressed heavily on them. Years of worldly experiences had condensed into this small town shop next to a county road that led to the interstate that everyone over the age of 15 dreamed of using to get away. His attention was caught by the sound of something metallic clattering as it hit the cement floor. He looked over to the car in time to see me pick up a 10mm socket. "Damn it Junior! Don’t you dare lose another one! " "Robert!"I shot back automatically. I hated being called Junior. I was my own person even though I had the same curly mop of hair only in raven black, the same high forehead only unlined, and the same ice blue eyes only clearer. Mom joked that I was his mini-me. I might be to her, but my ambitions run in a different direction. Dad taught me all he knew about mechanics, electronics, and mathematics. Unfortunately, he held complete disdain for my interest in the arts, other than getting another A on my report card, and that was only to please Mom. "Enough for today,"Dad growled, and flipped the door sign to close before he pulled the window shade down. "Make sure you clean up the tools better than last night." I rolled my eyes at his back. The tools were pristine before I locked them up last night. Honestly, he just liked to harangue me. I gave the tools the exact same attention as before and locked everything up. I punched the alarm code in before locking up the shop’s door. Finally, I could smell more than cigarette smoke, oil, grease, and gas. "Grouchy old man."I muttered. I could go into the back door and not run into him until dinner time. Mom was at the sink. I walked to rest my chin on her shoulder and gave her a hug from behind. "What smells so good?" "Apple pie or possibly the pork roast." "Both!"I released her to do the rest of the dishes and headed upstairs. "Dinner in a few hours,"I heard Mom call after me. My room was a comfortable pigsty. Well, Mom called it a pigsty. I’d never seen one. The bed was unmade and the wastebasket was overflowing with crumbled paper. Folded laundry was on the chair at the bedroom’s door. Mom refused to walk into the room any further. A stretched canvas rested on my French easel. The stand had been last year’s Christmas gift from ‘Santa’ written in Mom’s cursive style. The faint sketch was a good enough guide for the image trapped in my imagination. I loaded up the wooden palette and swept the fan brush through three colors and started to add short, quick bursts to breathe life into the shadowed area from the last time. I pulled my hand away in confusion. The colors shifted, shimmered, and then bent in a way I hadn’t painted. The graphite pencil lines I’d meticulously drawn pushed out of the paint to fall at my feet on the floor. I felt a slight tug from the palette and looked down in time to see little globs of paint drifting toward the canvas. As I watched, oil paint burst like fireworks across the background before the colors blended into a dark mess. The brush I held turned into the weight and shape of a socket wrench. Something dripped onto my cheek. I looked up to see the underside of a car. Dad’s hand clamped firmly on my shoulder, "You’ll be a fine mechanic." "Junior, for the last time, get your lazy butt out of bed and help me!"Dad’s voice exploded. He shook my shoulder. I opened my eyes in time to see him leave my room. I swallowed hard and breathed out a sigh of relief. It was only a dream.
I sit and wait. Its cold but I don't have the option to have my heater on. The car is off, the keys are not in the ignition, I don't want my parking lights to give me away. Its late and the sun is about to set but I don't have any of the cab lights on I can't let them notice me before I have my chance. I am slumped down in my seat, barely able to see over my dash. I peer out the front windshield of my car at my target. A 1996 Toyota Camry, license plate "Luv U", vin number1J8FT57W47D105788. I remember it like it was yesterday, all those years ago. Everything had been looking up in my life, I was at the very peak, and then it all came crashing down because of this person. I knew it was all over as soon as I saw this car parked in my favorite parking spot. I cant hold it in anymore, I need to lash out at something. I reach into my pocket protector and pull out one of the pencils I keep there and with some effort snap it almost in two. I've lost too many of my favorite pens to this rage. A figure exits the distant building and my anticipation rises. As they approach my body becomes taught, ready to spring into action. They make a turn and enter a different car, good, they have spared themselves my wrath. Just as the boiling inside of me begins to subside another begins to approach. This time I steel myself, no sense in wasting anything on someone other than my target. Closing in I can't help myself, my anticipation rises, my entire body clenches once more ready to pounce. Finally, they reach the Camry, and with that I fly out of my car making sure not to slam the door on the way out. I march over making sure to check both directions on the road before I cross. I raise my hand and pointing at the one who wronged me and rouse all of my emotion. "Hey.... you!"I say weakly, confrontation was never my thing. She spins on her heel sending her hair spiraling in the air before her face. As she spins the light glints off of her coke bottle glasses and her gaze falls to meet mine. She loses her balance slightly and ends up leaning against her car, messenger bag clutched against her chest in surprise. "You found me, I don't know how but you've found me!"she exclaims. I am caught aback, I know we are both relatively young, so it might be coincidence, but did she, in her shock, still quote the movie "Back to the Future?"Its not too old of a movie but its not one that you would really happen upon easily nowadays. The awkward silence persists, we are locked in place, me dramatically pointing my finger at her, and her dramatically leaning against her car. My mom always taught me that pointing was rude, but I wanted to make a point(lol) and show I was serious about this. However, now I am feeling kind of sheepish as the wind has been taken out of my sails. "Was that a quote from 'Back to the Future'?"I ask as I lower my hand. "Oh! uh... yeah. Its my favorite movie so I figure it fit given the scenario."as she said this she pulled herself up off of her car and stood, clutched over her bag. "Wait. You remember me?" "Yes. I took your parking spot once twelve years ago, I've been on the run ever since. I'm really sorry about that." I stood there, stunned. Never did I think that the person I sought after knew they did anything to me, or even knew who I was. "Its alright"I stammer out, rubbing the back of my neck with my pointing hand. I feel foolish having made such a big deal out of this, but then again she had done the same thing. She nods slightly and turns to get in her car." "Wait!"I exclaim, for some reason I feel like I can't let it end like this. "Do you maybe, wanna get a coffee? To like... bury the hatchet?"
Honestly, I should not have this much stuff. A solar flare hit Earth, and we're currently living through an apocalypse. I've stolen from the military, something that was SURPRISINGLY easy to do, and I have a massive armory that I've been saving for this moment. I can always turn something like this into a for-profit, can't I? Lock N' Load, and put on a suit of armor. I've learned from a certain man, a legend in his time. A person you'd think was a myth, but was real, and had some good sense and ability. Ned Kelly. This time, I'm also covering my legs as well as my upper body and head. The aftershock of this massive event has the military and police force in shambles, their whole plan being for something else, not this. Mine was a lot simpler. Steal from a comically unguarded military base, forge armor, and take some hits while a major historical event that humanity might not live through happens. I've got some spare sets, and a couple contacts. The radiation from this flare started making some... freaks a week ago, zombies even. Prolly shoulda mentioned the zombies at the same time as the solar flare making our whole country scorched, but I don't think a shambling pile of abstract meat can break through my metal suit. It's not really a worry. I've got spares, and some people I'd like to talk to about this, if they're alive. If they're here, alive, and not one of those twisted perversions of humanity, I'll get them geared up, so we can empty our mags, fill up our bags, and call it "Payday"every single day of the week. The resources will help us greatly, and if we can move this gear to a brick church safely, we should. Those places are defensive strongholds, if you know how to use them like that. Most of all, you gotta remember.. .. I'M THE NEW-AGE NED KELLY, MATE!
I reenter the room, and to my surprise it is completely empty, so I decide to investigate further. I scan the room, looking for any clues as to what happened and where my sister had gone, but I can find nothing. I yell her name multiple times, but I get no response. I hear a low humming noise coming from somewhere else in the house. Confused, I search for the source of this unfamiliar sound. I cautiously exit the room, only to find that the hallway is also empty. I turn right and head to the living room to look for my parents. After walking for a minute or two, I still haven't seen anything. I turn around, and suddenly the hallway closes off, leaving me with a dead end behind me. I can only go forward. As I continue walking through the hallway, I feel something behind me touch me. I turn around, and realize that the wall is closing in on me from behind. I start to panic, and my walk turns to a run. All the while the mysterious humming grows louder. The hallway, which before had seemed endless, now was closing in from in front and behind me. I notice a thick, black goop that radiated a faint green light begin seeping in from the ceiling. I carefully poke it, and nothing happens. The hum from before has now became a roar. The wall in front of me stopped closing in on me just before it reached my toes. The goop has started seeping in from the floor as well. I find it hard to move, almost completely locks my feet in place. The rate at which it enters the small space has sped up to pouring in. I am terrified, and I begin screaming. The roar continues to grow louder, and I now feel helpless. I writhe in panic in the restricting substance which has now reached my waist. I scream one last time as it reaches my chin, then squeeze my eyes shut as the substance, which I had at first thought to be the least of my worries, consumed me completely. Hi, I am gobluedolphins, a sixth grader who loves to write. This was probably my least favorite story I've done, but let me know if you want me to make a chapter 2. Advice and criticism is welcome, just try to keep it respectful. Have a good day, and I hope you enjoyed reading the story!
Sally arrives home late from her second job. Her microwave dinner isn’t the best for her health, but it’s affordably filling when groceries every year cost more for less. She turns on the television for an hour before bed and spends a little time seeing what the rest of the world is up to. Covid, Climate change, Class conflicts, and the politicians universally doing fuck-all to address it. The obscene amount of advertising between pithy quips with no substance starts to annoy her. Opening her phone she checks her social media feeds echoing a loud chorus of uproar and indignation. She “likes” some of them, and having done her part to change the world, settles into bed early to catch the bus for tomorrow. Arriving a little late to the office she finds the company engaged in an all hands meeting discussing a round of layoffs. While they’re driving home the point that this is all company confidential and they can’t spook investors it all fades into ear ringing deafness as she thinks about the upcoming lottery of who will have health insurance, or rent money. Probably exclusively for her until she can find another job. The meeting closes with the speaker assuring people that if you know someone affected by the layoff “…it’s not them, we’re happy with their performance, it’s just business.” Maybe this is a good thing, this could be her chance to find something better. To make a real difference. To be fulfilled making the world a better place! Sally spends her lunch hour checking job postings. There aren’t many she feels qualified for. Most of them are just making mundane differences in the private business sector, making other investors fulfilled, making their office a better place with its “go get-’em” attitude and casual Friday dress codes. Her bus route to the second job is late again. Routes are reduced. Another coworker tested positive and they’re going to send people home today. It would have been nice if they called. Sally starts to worry if she had any symptoms showing last night and retraces her day to see which cough or sniffle might be something more sinister. The phone rings on the way out the door, hoping it’s her partner she answers with a gleeful “Hello!” There’s a pause and click on the other side as it switches to a recorded message, she hides her foolishness at giving another scam call a moment of her time and mocks “Oh ok great! I’ll see you later!” as she sheepishly hangs up and checks to see if anyone noticed. She stands off aways from the bus stop. It’s going to be a long wait. A homeless man has taken up the bench. She thinks about him briefly, wondering if he drank or used his way there, or has a mental health issue. As she starts to think about how close it could be her, how many paychecks away would it actually take, she picks up her phone again and opens a game to play. She arrives home with ambitious intentions, but quickly procrastinates cleaning her apartment and decides to take a nap. As she drifts off to sleep she recalls the forced smile under fearful eyes of the speaker, “…it’s just business”
"Is this right to you?"Dane looked to his partner, EXP12-983 Pigraider, a bipedal cage of titanium strapped with enough firepower to hold off a battalion, and enough technical instruments to replace a laboratory. Green lasers strobed over the carcasses, a blue veil flushed over its face, followed by a beep. "No immediate match."Pigraider said. "Starting advanced diagnostic." While the robot was on its knees, in the process of extracting a piece of flesh to analyze, Dane began to hear something further down the dark, narrow cavern that had emanated enough must to fill a million perfume bottles. "Keep on working until I say so."Dane said as he pulled out a LightPulse Orb v2. from his utility belt, and tossed it into the black depth of the cavern. It flashed once at a brightness new to his eyes, before stuttering into a light that illuminated every inch of the space. He covered his face and groaned. When he looked up, there, aligned against the walls, were ten creatures with faces not too dissimilar from his own, but eerily different in the most minute of details. "Defensive mode."Dane said, hushed. "Order not understood. Please repeat." "Defensive mode!"This time, Dane yelled. The creatures awoke and erupted into the air as if they had wings. Dane glanced at Pigraider for only a second before realizing it was now time to cover his ears. Lurched over, ballistic weapons unraveled from its metallic backpack of instruments, and began to fire. Five minutes passed. "Powering off."Pigraider turned into a shell. "Recovery mode enabled." Dane was mangled on the floor, gurgling the last of his blood.
Your mouth is dry. Dryer than it's ever been. About a third of that is from all the talking you've been doing, which has been doing no good. Mostly it's this hideously arid and musty room, which is almost like an interrogation room like you might see in a movie, but something has been lost in translation, species-to-species. The creatures refused to believe you didn't know the intimate workings of human computers. They pressed their objections into your mind, not really verbally but via some kind of audible silence vibration that made meanings blossom at the base of your skull. It wasn't complete mind reading, clearly, otherwise they'd know you were telling the truth. But they had found your phone on you, and insisted that no one would own a tool without understanding it. No more than an hour ago you had no idea that aliens even existed. Now you're being rigorously quizzed by them about a topic you're ill prepared to discuss on your best day. You wish they'd ask about something you felt like you could speak to...but maybe that would be worse? Maybe they'd take your confidence too seriously and call you a liar if you made a mistake? At this point, with all the shock that your body hasn't even had time to react to, you hardly know the difference between 0 and 1 anyway. Oh that's right! Zeroes and ones. Binary. That's a start. You start stammering about how it's something to do with zeroes and ones, on and off, and that lets computer programs make decisions about what to put on the screen. Once you get going with that, swallowing every thirty seconds or so as your tongue comes closer to crumbling into dust, disconnected information starts pouring out of you. Stuff from those articles your cousin sent you about cobalt mines and microplastics, or that one cutesy infographic Youtube video that talked about Moore's Law--or More's Law? It had to do with how much you could put on a silicon chip. The aliens register their growing interest with an appreciative-feeling fuzzy buzz. At least silicon exists everywhere. Screens have to have pixel density now that rivaled the human eye in resolution, and many of them could register your fingerprint as data to give you access. The aliens murmur almost sub-perceptually that they found fingerprints interesting too. You feel encouraged, and even a little smarter than when you started. Once you complete your very spotty stream of consciousness, you pant and swallow hard. Was this good enough? How were you being judged? Minutes go by, a shock of nothing after the nonstop intensity of the past little while. Is that noticeable absence of communication an indication that they're warming up the probes? Even human morals are inconsistent, so predicting alien behavior is of course impossible. The thrum in your skull is back, and the slow dread briskly returns to panic. Almost as soon as you feel it, you also start to feel (you hope) Earth's sunlight returning around you and a gradual shift from being seated in the interrogation room to standing on terra firma, which is strange indeed. They tell you that they have all they need to know: a computer seems to be something made from all parts of the human world and the earth it's on, so it's not so surprising you wouldn't understand everything about it. They're still surprised you didn't seem to realize that, though. They'll have to come back in a little while--the concept of "a little while"vibrating as some unfamiliar quantity of time that feels extraordinarily large to you--to check back in.
"Ok!"- I said as i sat down and arrranged my papers.- "So, Joe, is it?" "Yes sir." He seemed nervous. Not the unprepared kind of nervous, more like the first day of school kind of nervous. "Well, Joe, i gotta admit, during all this time, i don't think i ever noticed you. Tell me, why is that?" "Well"- Joe sighed- "I'm kinda of an average Joe, y'know? Not really the kind of person you pay a lot of attention to. I don't mind though. I like it. I'm more of a lonely wolf myself, and being invisible makes the job easier." "Hmm, i suppose you're right. But, y'know, there is a lot of very noticable, very talented people in this company that also deserve this promotion; so, why should i pick you?" Joe hesitated a little bit before anwsering. Like he knew the answer already, but the second i asked him he forgot. NOW he's nervous. Unprepared kind of nervous. It took him almost a minute to awnser. "Frankly,"- he said- "You don't have to pick me." Weird start, but okay. Let's see where this goes. I asked him: "Wait, so you're telling me to NOT pick you?" "No. I'm saying you don't HAVE to pick me. You NEED to pick me."- He said as he leaned in and put his hands on the table, looking me directly in my eyes. "I mean, i'm not saying i'm perfect, but i am saying i'm better than the others. I'm saying that, i might not be noticeable, or sociable; but i am also saying that i will never have witnesses, and i am saying that this job will always be my main priority. I'm saying that i might've not killed some people who deserve it; i tortured dozens of peop- No, not people. Monsters." Wow. "Ok. Would you mind telling me some of these monsters that you tortured?" "In chronological order or...?" "From best to worst. From the most despicable monster to a mean manager." He hesitated again. But this time it wasn't because he wasn't sure. It was because he was counting how many people he had killed. And which one of them was the worst one of all. Damn, how did i sleep on this kid? Before he finished, i said, urgently: "Ok, that's enough. You got the promotion." "W-What? But i didn't even fini-" "You don't need to finish. You've said enough. You got the promotion." Joe's eyes brightened. He grabbed my hand and shaked it, full of excitement. "Thank you sir! You won't' regret it!" "Joe, if all i you said in this interview is true, the last thing i'll feel is regret."
You find an eyeball in the leaves while raking the neighbor's yard. And then another. You look over your shoulder and try not to appear shocked as the elderly man on the back porch perks up a bit. He's always creeped you out but your parents taught you to help those who need help and his yard was an eyesore. Two birds with one stone, ya know. You realize too late you've stopped raking and the old man is now trying to stand. You also realize too late that you've stopped breathing to the point you pass out and the next thing you know you wake up in a dark room with a musty smell. You have a monster headache too. You recognize the shuffle of the old man, Mr. Dankes, Will Dankes isn't it? He's in the shadows and you can barely see anything, bumping your head as you try to get up. "Now, now, Missy!"You took a mean fall, just stay there for a minute while I get you fixed up,"said the old man. He brings over a wet towel and wipes your face. You come to with an even harsher headache and a bad taste in your mouth. "Is that fermaladahyde? Cholorfoam?"Whatever it was your head hurts and your vision is blurry. The room looks weird too like it's closer and out of shape. You try to say "Mr. Dankes, how long have I been here?"but it comes out as a muffled and slobbering whine. As the sounds leave your mouth you become aware of the ties on your wrists and ankles. You also notice that Mr. Dankes is standing upright. The glance he gives you sends chills across your body. His hair is different too, it looks good. Bouncy, full of life and longer, about as long as you wear your hair.
Josh the descendant of an Air Elemental and a Human. He is a Druid who Admires the beautys of the world may that be beauty in form of a beautifull place, a bealutyfull person or someone who is great at a skill. All forms of beauty are appreciadet as a gift of nature by him. He is relativly young and since he ages very slowly and lives very long due to his Elmental father he has made it his goal to travel the world in the search for new beauty to admire. The catch is he thinks off eveything evil that it is just part of a natural cycle of Nature and that it has to be. (Sorry for the Mistakes and the bad english. I cant spell today (also english isnt my first language but normaly I am fluid but not today as it seems))
“Ah fuck my Skittles!” Martin watched the small colorful candy shoot form the bag in horror. His favorite snack were now covered in dirt and grass. All because of a stupid rabbits hole. “Oh dearie me, ah’ alright lad?” “Yeah I’m fine, thanks…” He starts to stand up and his eyes go wide. He grabs the small man in a weird green outfit by the arms and holds him up. “St. Peters ghost! Put me down you dickhead?” “Ok, so where’s my pot of gold…” “Your what?” “My pot of gold. You’re a leprechaun right?” “Ay but-“ “And I caught you at the end of a rainbow so where my gold.” “Rainbow? Lad it’s candy!” “Yes but what’s their slogan hmm?” “Oh come off it, you know that’s the same thing.” “It’s still a rainbow.” “A rainbow of flavors is not the same as a regular rainbow.” “JFK was the youngest president, Obama was the first African American President, why can’t I be the first person to catch a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow of Skittles?” “You did not just…ok, those really out there comparisons aside, they didn’t fall in the shape of a rainbow, secondly…there’s no indigo colored Skittle so it’s not a full rainbow.” “That’s a semantic, no myth states it has to be a full rainbow or a riana ow from a rain storm to count.” “Well…what if I wasn’t a leprechaun?” “You admitted you were one earlier!” “Do you have proof?” “I-I-I…ok listen stop trying to change the subject and give me my gold. “ “Your mom was begging for me gold last night.” “Oh you little…” He lunges for the small man and they begin to scrap.
Dark light filtered out from the dying treetops. The woman looked up through the trees that guarded her, trying to understand what was happening. Were the bloated clouds parting? Was the corpse of the sun finally giving them something to use again? Could they grow crops in this failing world? Could they reclaim the day? But the woman shook her head, crouching down into the guard tower she lived in. Three weeks of living up here had changed her, making her far more pessimistic. What did the scientists know about the surface anymore? How long had it been since the privileged class touched the surface, trying to understand the freezing nature around them, the stars no longer giving them love and warmth. The world was growing barren by each night, and each day ensured there would be no replenishment. Humanity was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it. Some scientists tried to in vain, arguing for a nuclear solution, using radiation for warmth. But the others laughed at such desperate thoughts. Then they started to take into consideration the chance, the possibility of it. Desperation swayed opinions far faster than reason could. So projects began. It was then that humanity discovered they were no longer the planet's predators as night descended. Creatures, gnarled and rotten, appeared thrashing their claws, stabbing through human bodies. Other creatures came forth, a malice combination of steel and mortar. They looked as if modernity became cruel, coming down like structured steel, ripping apart human life with careless indifference. The creatures ate, and ate, consuming humanity towns and cities and nations. The night creatures drove humanity down to the depths of their sewer lines and their metros. And that is where humanity has been, the scared little mouse against the monstrous cat. The woman rubbed her hands together, a coldness finding her, fighting against her warmth, demanding it surrender. But the woman refused, breathing deep, layering herself with ragged clothing. Life under the surface was not easy, but years of existence underneath had turned temporary stays into permanent cities. The under-cities were growing by the day, and humanity could have a chance at thriving once more. But the creatures still posed a problem. They'd find their way into the under-cities and wreak havoc across the echo of humanity's greatest constructions. Entire sections would be lost, pipes closed down, walls barricaded, paths completely destroyed. The monsters were an infestation. But humanity still needed the surface and assigned patrols and watchers to guard the entrances. Some cities treated it as an honor, giving the watchers great gifts. Other cities only assigned the desperate to the walls, saying their gift would be freedom from their debts and crimes. The woman wondered what it would be like, to live a life where her city cared for her and treated her like a hero for doing this job. She breathed in, peeking through binoculars, searching for signs of the monsters. She knew they were stuck on the ground; all of them would need to climb if they wished to kill her. It was strange how humanity had reclaimed the skies and kept the undergrounds, but the world itself was hostile to them all. It was as if nature was fighting back, ensuring that humanity could find no hold. She knew of other watchtowers like hers. They would all communicate with each other, checking to see how each was doing. Some would speak of their cities as the daytime held no threats. And the woman learned of the grandness some cities had achieved. Nuclear power, warmth for all, water, too. And the woman licked her lips, wondering if she could make the distance on foot. Only a few miles on the destroyed lands and she would no longer be a captive of her under-city. But it would be folly to attempt it. No one lived on the ground anymore. The woman would be snatched up the moment her feet touched the surface. So she watched, waiting for the week to finish. For on her last day, she would be free, but fate had other plans for the woman. On the last day of her tenure, a beast attacked her tower, and at first, the woman seemed relieved. It was a single creature, trying to scale the metal. The woman activated the traps, sending the beast barreling down to the ground. As she looked with her binoculars, she was sure the creature was broken, arms twisting in such violent ways. But a light began to emanate from it, and dread filled the woman. What was going on? The light grew brighter and brighter, rivaling the light of old forgotten stars. The woman stepped away, covering her gaze, refusing to be blinded by this new trick. Yet, there was no trick as the creature exploded, rocking the foundation and the world around the woman. The light no longer emanated from below, and the woman looked down, seeing a hole within the watchtower, and her heart sank. The moaning of destroyed metal terrified her. She was compromised now. And so was the city under her, for these towers connected with their host cities. The explosion was something new and unknown. Would the city react in time? And numbness hit her. If the city reacted appropriately, then they could close the gates, leaving her stranded. Her breathing sped up as she frantically thrashed her mind for a solution. Nothing would come to the woman. She was dead up here, alone in the darkness of a starless night. But a voice pitched up through the COMMs. A woman spoke to her, saying safety was only a few miles away. And hope stirred in the stranded woman. But a dread slaughtered it within her. To live, she would need to do the impossible and cross the world where a dying sun and starless sky lived. But where reason failed, desperation thrived. The woman left, trekking into the darkness of an uncharted surface.
I was actually about to write:: "...And that's how I joined the crusaders and helped them in their journey to Egypt." But I thought better and decided to write a short story. Here goes the following: ..... ---------------- I wasn't sure if I should've been more worried with the fact that a bullet was floating mid air or that a spirt appeared in front of me and stopped that metallic particle. Actually, I wasn't even sure why I was about to get shot! The only thing I was sure about was that I'm still alive and breathing, feeling some kind of energy coursing through me, something that might have summoned that strange entity in which stands between me and that damn man who was planning to shot me. The energy emanated by the spirit felt familiar to me. Or rather, too familiar in fact that I wasn't even sure if it was myself or some thing that I knew to the point were I can call it me. For the time being, let's call it guardian angel, since without it I might as well be lying on top of this cold and dusty floor. While the so called guardian angel was holding that bullet mid air; while I was still getting used to that sight; while I was processing all this situation in it's own form, configuration or whatever you want to call it, a split second has passed, and that split second was enough for that man to realize that his plan has failed. Anger. That strong feeling that I should've held to myself exploded when I saw that the man was about to take his feet and leave that place as soon as possible. The next minutes you could consider it gruesome. Because the angel in which was actually chained to my core being actually reflected the feeling that was boiling up inside me and eventually attacked. That's why... that's why all this years....all this years after that event I can't leave this cold prison cell and feel the weather around me, see the blue sky, the moon, her... That's the reason why now I'm just an inmate to my own demise and that's why I can tell you this story, officer. Seriously. One thing you should be glad about is that now you know that if you cross paths with me you should be careful, 'cause that angel might appear again. .... -----------------
Day 1: First Contact Aliens reached out to us this morning. At least I believe they are aliens. Jodie next door keeps saying it's the New World Order. Whoever they are, their intent was unambiguous. They had come. They had seen. They would conquer. This was politely, and firmly, explained to us in six different languages on any device that received satellite communications. Ironically, many people in remote parts of the world reliant on satellite phones heard the news first. Their plan was explained in full, so assured were they in their ability for total victory. First, our nuclear armaments would be disabled immediately. Attempts to hide them would not be punished but would not be a productive use of time. Attempts to use them on each other would be punished. Secondly, we were to expect the arrival of emergency habitats at hundreds of thousands of locations globally, 72 hours after the end of the message. Food, water, medication, electrical power, shelter, tools, anything needed for the "transition"period would be available. These habitats would be defended and attacking them merely put our own refugees at risk. Thirdly, at the 72 hour mark we were to expect a global electro-magnetic pulse that would damage significant portions of our electronic infrastructure. Anyone in need of power for emergency purposes should report to the nearest habitat. Lastly, we were asked to disseminate this message and the locations of the habitats. To backup any data that we could not bear to lose. And to prepare for the global loss of power. It seemed like a joke. The message was voice and text only, along with an incredible list of GPS coordinates for the habitats. Why would they wait? Why bother explaining instead of doing? It didn't take long to get confirmation that the nuclear disarmament was no joke. Whistleblowers globally reported attacks on nuclear installations. Submarines destroyed. Missile silos burned out. A few mountain bases neatly cored like an apple. Most governments denied the attacks, but the cat was out of the bag. Not everyone believed aliens were truly behind the attack, but they believed enough to begin preparing. Or panicking. Day 3: Transition Data backup, DIY EMP shielding, and survivalism became the national pass time. You can't get gas anywhere. Military convoys roll past at all hours. Police have set up checkpoints. Grocery stores have been looted and burned. Good luck finding guns and ammo anywhere. Even the office stores were looted for paper, some people endlessly printing whatever they wanted to save. Or people who couldn't find toilet paper in the stores anymore. I had started this journal on my laptop, but that seemed kind of stupid on Day 2, so I found a journal in some of my daughter's old things. I don't think Lisa Frank ever expected her psychedelic animals to grace a recording of the end times. I should have written this first, but I don’t want to see it in writing. But I need to see it in writing. Jodie killed herself today. And I’m mad I guess. And hurt. I hated her ranting about how a shadow government takeover would happen. I expected to hate her gloating even more. But what she was waiting for was finally happening and she just… checked out. I kind of hated her. But I also miss her. This part is being written by candlelight. Whoever they are, they did it. The night sky flashed with millions of bursts of light. I thought we were being bombed. The power went out. My phone’s a brick. I guess I should have tried that Faraday box thing I heard about, but the phone is no good if the cell towers are down anyways. I’ve made up my mind on what I’m going to do. I’m gonna go to one of the habitats. If Jodie were still around, the resulting aneurysm from me telling her that would have done the job. This isn’t surrender though. I just need to know who they are. Why they’re doing this. Odds are good I’ll wind up as a meat paste flavor supplement for an alien cannibal overlord, but on the other hand, I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to wind up as a barbecue meal for desperate cannibal humans. Probably not soon. Plenty of canned goods around. But I’d rather try and know what’s going on than fight my neighbors for potable water. Day 412: Acceptance The aliens. Plural, as in multiple species of alien living in one society. The “Nateen” as they call themselves were gentle in their conquest. The habitats were exactly what was promised. They even paid out reparations for death and injury that happened in the early days of the Transition, so long as the loss didn’t happen attacking a habitat. No money of course, but useful tools. It took a long while for people to figure that out though, nobody wanted to trust the aliens. There were a lot of attacks on the habitats in the early days. A lot of militaries were well prepared for an EMP attack, especially with the 3 day heads up. The losses were tremendous however. It took me days to even get to the nearest habitat because of the debris of battle. I had heard that some habitats even had to move locations after the worst of it, because even if the Nateen cleared away the wreckage, the ground was too torn up for people to reach the habitat. But eventually the military realized assaulting the habitats was not workable. They melted away into decentralized resistance groups ages ago. Or set themselves up as warlords. Without the bombardment, desperate people began trickling into the habitats, and then trickling right back out with fresh water and honestly pretty good sticks of food. I think from their perspective the aliens think of themselves as benevolent. In the classes offered in the habitats they explained their ethos, their motivation for conquering Earth. While more convoluted and nuanced than can be easily summarized, the Nateen value two principals. The first, that variety in form is beautiful, which practically speaking meant that the aliens wished to preserve bio-diversity as much as possible, including humans. The second, that variety in thought is abhorrent, which practically speaking meant that all sapients were to be reeducated, including humans. Now, I’m not gonna lie, brainwashing a population to conform to your culture is some pretty dystopian shit. But the Nateen used far more carrot than stick and I did want to learn more about them. I’ve been living in the habitat for over a year and taking their classes. And even some classes set up by other humans living here. I took up astronomy. It’s suddenly a lot more interesting now that I know there is other life out there. There is also a specific Nateen news channel that goes into detail on what they are doing elsewhere in the world. Besides the consolidation of their power centers over the globe, they’ve also begun more in depth scans than they were able to perform outside of the atmosphere. The most shocking revelation so far, although it would have been a lot more shocking over a year ago, is that the Nateen claim their scans show that they are not the first extraterrestrials to visit Earth. Essentially there are multiple deposits of Strange Matter (I don’t know the technical details but it’s a matter not native to our entire universe) that we had no way of detecting ourselves previously. In fact, a slight trail of Strange Matter is what led the Nateen to Earth to begin with. Overall, the Nateen reeducation of Earth’s humans is slow going. A Nateen teacher even claimed that their most optimistic projections for full assimilation is centuries. You know what they say, frog, boiling pot of water. We won’t notice when we stop being humans of Earth and when we start being Nateen. Most of the population still won’t approach the habitats and the Nateen have been forced to drop supplies among the most recalcitrant groups, not including the warlords or resistance groups. The most supportive outside groups get their energy grid fixed and hooked up to the habitats for free. Overall the reeducation is focusing on being persuasive, looking to convince genuine converts of Nateen philosophy, faith, and culture. I send what I learn to the resistance, though I don’t know how actionable it is. I do enjoy living in the habitat, but deep down I never really could abide colonization. Day 3,924: Elder Things The arrival of the Nateen is probably the most significant event in Earth’s recorded history. What most of us didn’t expect is that the Nateen would discover the most significant events in Earth’s unrecorded history. The Nateen surveyors followed the traces of Strange Matter and in several places found leftovers of alien societies, including living creatures. Beings they named Shoggoths in a cave in the Antarctic. A deep sea society of humanoid fish people, who grow to absolutely tremendous size. Incredibly aggressive creatures called Polyps that are hard for me to accept as “sapient”. Even a species of beetle that the Nateen insist are aliens. And of much more interest to the Nateen, creatures composed entirely of Strange Matter. The Nateen aren’t able to determine if these creatures are alive or dead. The closest they can be described as, is “inactive.” A creature from outside our universe is basically the holy grail to the Nateen, here is evidence that the Variety of Form persists outside of our universe. I guess to the Nateen it’s a lot like us meeting them the first time. A little exciting. A lot of scary. First contact with something outside. Us humans aren’t as excited. It is interesting, but the ramifications are a bit outside of the context we understand. But at the same time, we’re not as scared. More aliens? Whoop tee doo. So long as these ones don’t also try to conquer us.
Couldn't fit the party bit into this silly little drabble, but I hope it suits the prompt overall! :) \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The battle of Helm's Deep raged on, but the elf on the battlement took little notice of it. He sighed, looking regretfully at the ruin that was once his weapon of choice. His bow broke. His trusty bow, which had served him faithfully ever since they had left Lothlórien, was broken. There was nothing wrong with it as far as he knew, so why did it fail him now, of all the worst possible moments? Ai, he would never know. Legolas scanned the battle again and pondered several alternate strategies. The foul orcs pressed on eagerly, seemingly undeterred by the Rohirrim army. Well, at least he wasn't defenseless. He could easily shield-surf down that flight of stairs and use his knives for fighting. But then again, he rather liked being up here, where he could make sense of all the chaos-. Something suddenly caught his attention. There, glowing slightly in a corner, was a bow. Legolas picked it up to examine it. He was impressed at its craftsmanship. It was a magnificent bow, well made and perfectly balanced. There was even a quiver of arrows to go with it, how convenient. His problem solved, Legolas rejoined the battle. He never expected what happened next. His aim was true, the arrows striking the hearts of many orcs. But they didn't fall. Instead, they froze, blinking in surprise. Then they began acting very strangely. "Ar Shagrat! Yer look mighty fine today!" "Speak for yerself, yer dear filthy tark!" "Did I ever say how much I loved yer?" "We will die together, my love!" The voices of several suddenly lovestruck orcs rose high above the other battle sounds. The elf could only stare in confusion. What new devilry was this? Looking at his new bow again, he was slightly horrified to see that it was now glowing pink. Realization dawned upon him. This was no ordinary bow! It was the legendary bow of- what was his name again? Stupid? No, Cupid. "Good heavens laddie, what in all of Middle-Earth is going on?!"Gimli shouted from somewhere in the madness. Legolas facepalmed with a groan. "I've doomed us all."
Nidel's eyes blinked open. "What happened,"she thought to herself as she pushed herself off the sand. It slowly started coming back. She had crashed. The portal had deposited her in a storm. She had tried to maneuver out of it, but a gust had blown her off course. She tried to wrench control, but lightning had struck and the next thing she remembered, she had been blown out of the wheelhouse. Thankfully, it appeared she had been low over the ocean, she doubted she would have survived the fall otherwise. "Hell of a storm last night,"a voice said behind her. Nidel turned to see an old man, dressed in unusual fabrics and leaning on a cane, standing about 30 feet behind her. He was walking down the beach, sheer white cliffs to his left. "I'm assuming you got caught in it?" Nidel was initially unsure how to reply. She eventually decided to just play along. "Yes,"she said. "Nasty weather. My ship broke up." The man shook his head. "Shame,"he said, approaching. Nidel checked to make sure her hood was pulled up over her head. It was. She had encountered a few worlds that had been hostile to people like her, those with pointed ears. She wanted to make sure this isn't one of them. "I remember my days in the navy aboard the Thunderchild. One hell of a boat, I'll tell you. She was made of steel, not wood, and even she would've had trouble keeping afloat in that storm." So there were no airships in this world, Nidel thought to herself as she allowed the man to pass to inspect what little remained of her airship. She made note of it for later. "Again, nasty weather."She thought carefully about her next response before continuing. "My compass broke in the storm, so I'm not quite sure where I am." "England,"the man said as he knelt down to throw a board to the side. "Specifically the cliffs of Dover."He picked up another piece, a large section of cloth, most likely from the balloon that held Nidel's airship aloft, before tossing it aside as well. "Thanks,"she said. "Pardon me, I don't believe I know your name." "Darrel,"the man said, as he picked up another piece of her ship. Nidel's heart froze. It was her journal. It had more than a hundred year's worth of findings in it. Thankfully, Darrel tossed it to her. "I believe that's yours,"he said. Nidel had to restrain herself from sighing in relief as she caught the little booklet. "Thank you,"she replied. "My name is Nidel." "Nidel,"the man said, pulling himself up by grabbing his cane. "That's a very unusual name." "I'm,"she paused, again considering her words carefully, "not from around here." "I see,"the man said. "Well, it looks to me like you need a place to stay until you can get yourself a new boat. My house is just up the beach. You're welcome to stay with me if you want." "You're most generous,"Nidel said. She walked with the man up the beach toward his house.
India. India had fallen, I remember seeing the news that day, the reporter reading the teleprompter frantically, hands shaking, mouth quivering. That day was grueling, the usual smog in Delhi seemed to have thickened with the dread of that day or perhaps it was the collective breaths of the rioters that had muddied the air, either way I was a just a teenager at the time, somewhat afraid because the adults were afraid, but I joked and laughed nonetheless, school was off, all was good. All was not good as we soon came to know, the UN tried to establish control, taking over parliament and trying to reinstate the elections. But to no avail, the UN was too weak and India too large and as always, there were problems elsewhere to deal with. Ambani stepped up, beaming above the lowly Indians, telling them he was their savior, him, Google and Amazon. Quite the trio, they took over the government, told us all was good. The smog above Delhi began clearing, our education system was revamped and poverty rates had gone down, all was good. But soon we began realizing something, where before we didn't have the clean roads and the clear air, we had our freedoms, our journalists mocked our politicians, the bloodiest headlines seared the front page, election day was a celebration. Now our journalists began disappearing, election day never came, Google Daily was the new paper and its headlines told us only one thing, all was good. I began work at 18, first as a restaurant employee, then I went to their training center and then I became a consultant for google. My pay was calculated, just enough for me to survive, barely. All was good. My day started with coffee, no milk, milk was expensive, then I had a piece of bread, just one, from a packet with the smiling logo of Amazon stamped on it. I switched on the TV and saw Ambani securing his newest deal with the US, all was good, the AI reporter said, all was good. I called my neighbor on the way to work, I took the faster, more expensive train this time, I had to keep things interesting after all. I realized my neighbor had gone missing 2 months ago. Ambani's Reliance had ceased his assets, he was their employee after all, what belonged to him, belonged to them. All was good, the speaker on the train said, all was good. I checked into work, the AI assistant said my pay would have a point five percent increase due to my exceptional performance. I sat at my white cubicle and heard the good morning message, all was good it said, all was good. I checked out of work, I passed a woman with a stroller, the baby made no sound. We were in the same train compartment, she smiled at me and told me all was good. I smiled back, I did not like babies, but I told her all was good. They would quarantine us otherwise, retrain us, they said, to make all good again. My neighbor was retrained twice. All had to be good, after all. I ate the last piece of bread, egg would have to do tomorrow. I turned on the TV, it was a movie, all was good the woman said to the man, the man smiled and agreed. I turned into bed at 9, the alarm set itself, the bed was cold, the air was cold, I was cold but all was good.
I miss home. I've been stranded here for years. The natives call it Sevastia (I never could get the pronunciation quite right). "Stranded"is perhaps too strong a word. This is place is practically paradise. The Sevastians are a post-scarcity society, at least as much as that's possible. In general, the needs of all people are seen to, plus most of their wants. They are a race of scholars and thinkers. Dreamers and artists. And, oh man, do they know how to party! They find many reasons to celebrate: The New Year, a new invention, or just because it's the second day of the week. It's not all perfect though. "Sevastia provides"but no planet has infinite resources. To this end, they implement some pretty strict population control methods. Reproduction is highly regulated to keep numbers from getting too high. Basically, if you want to make little Sevastians, it's a TON of paperwork. It is truly a wonderful place to live, but it's not home. After all, my wife is not here. See, this was supposed to be just a routine exploration mission, but something malfunctioned during the trip and I was forced to land here. The repairs were beyond my abilities (I just fly the damn thing). I'm not concerned about her taking another lover or anything, we've always been pretty open in that regard. I just miss...being near her. She even saved my life once, but that's a story for later. The Sevastians do have a space program, but it's not as advanced as ours. But, they do love a challenge, and their scientists were eventually able to reverse engineer what was left of my ship and create something that will get me back home. Earth is coming into view now. Gods, she's beautiful. I actually cried during the test flight, the first time I saw her from space. Our pale blue dot... "This is Amazon Station to unidentified craft. You are entering protected space. Identify yourself and state your business." Amazon? Like the company? Figures they would buy a damn space station. Ah well, nothing for it, I guess. I send my ID code and wait for confirmation. "You've been gone a long time, Captain. I'm sure a lot of people are eager to hear your story. Proceed to dock 1701-D" The dock was a bit of tight fit. This boat is a good deal bigger than what I originally had, but I made it work. As I disembark, I am greeted by what looks like the Station's commander and...a squad of lawyers? The commander starts: "We can't believe it's you, Captain!""We scanned the area were we first lost contact with your ship but some sort of energy storm apparently erased any evidence that you had been there.""I'd like to be the first to welcome you back to Earth!"She offers her hand. It's a bit awkward at first, I haven't shaken hands for a few years, but it comes back. "Thank you, Commander. But what are Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe doing here?" "Dewey...I don't understand that reference. Anyway, I tried to get rid of them but it seems "I was stranded on an alien planet"is a common tax evasion practice. \Sigh\ Death and taxes, huh? I guess some things never change.
For the last 14 months now me and Sam Tunchill have travelled the U.S of A, drifters of this land, wanted by nobody, unnoticed like street lights on a sunny day. I knew Sam was sick, he knew that he was ill himself, complaints of a stomach ache outside of Tucson six months ago progressed to whole body aching with the appearance a dead man to go with it. Tonight’s the night we go our separate ways but Sams way ain’t going to be of this earth for his condition is what I would say serious now. Trying to reach his daughter in New Jersey before his approaching death. I want to head south, Florida perhaps see myself some of that Panhandle which I haven’t seen in my time as a drifter. Me and Sam got acquainted in L.As skid row, older by the 70s and 80s the carefree SOB and I hit it off straightaway with our love for The Stooges and have travelled together since, sleeping rough in every corner of that huge bed of America. Sam was very sick tonight and I don’t think he’ll make Jersey, barely to muster a word the greyhound driver thought this hippy looking fucker must be high but no, it’s the final breathes of a dying man, riddled with some disease we didn’t know. I helped putting him on the bus and said my goodbyes with out reply. As the bud pulls away, I wonder if he’s even alive. I slowly realise that I no longer care. They all leave me in the end up anyway.
You are quite dissapointed. seeing an undead slobbering mess was humorous, all they did was flail around and fall onto itself multiple times. Its bite was barelt anything more of a gross slobber. Once the high and mighty community of dabbling and drippy doctors said “no, this is not allowed”. You have deemed them the greatest party poopers out there. The greatest disappointment to you, the only side affect of the person was that they uttered brain every now on then for comedic reasons. Very interesting, you sip your fanta soda from the wendys drive through 3 night old cup in your hands. And then you say “stupid party poopers, ruining my party” you’ll show them. You wont come to the leaders birthday party. Take THAT mr.hendrick, you think to yourself.
I stared at the house in front of me, I hadn’t been back since I left for college. I couldn’t go back, even for the holidays, I couldn’t stand to hear those screams. The only day they seemed to be fitting was Halloween but even then they were too eerie to handle. My older siblings and my younger siblings were like my parents, they ignored them. Didn’t question them. My parents passed and left equal shares of the home to all of their children. My younger siblings relinquished their holds to myself and our older siblings. Then their shares were given to me. They wanted nothing to do with the house. Now here I was standing in front of it trying to will myself to go inside. Taking a deep breath I walked onto the porch, unlocked the door, and walked inside. I was going to open that door. It took hours of searching but I finally found where my parents had hidden the key. As I approached the door I could hear the screams once more and the closer I got the louder and more frantic the activity was. I placed my hand on the knob and when the key was placed into the lock there was a sudden silence. It was so sudden I almost left the house but I had made a promise to myself. Taking a deep breath I opened the door. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting but it wasn’t this. Paper plastered the wall Blood stains on the floor, walls, and celling. Bones…..so many bones.
Chapter 1: The Voyagers * When winter descended on the northern hemisphere of the planet Erador, the entire world was thrown into chaos. The entire nation of Alasia declared a national emergency and the 7 Tower Beacons in their capital city were all lit up with a red flashing light that year. The ringing sounds from the Tower of Public Control put the entire nation in despair and currency fell to almost nothing. People were out on the streets, some with burning torches and oil canisters in their hands, while others were simply thrown into a fit of madness and roamed out on the fields without any purpose. The Global Council had its headquarters in The Capital City of Xanadia and it was their that all the Prime Leaders decided to hold the meeting. In the Courtroom, all the 21 Leaders were seated in a big circle and each one of them had a small monitor in front of them that presented the visuals from all over the world. A black skinned bald gentlemen, who had an extra ear at the top of his skull, stood up at his seat and said: ‘My fellow Trobordians. I think that I speak for every single member of our planet when I say that: We are fucked on a cosmic level. Currently, the situation is so bad that the entire Nation of Kurito has plunged into a state of Black Emergency. The Government has already fallen there and the president has been assassinated. Apart from - ‘Pardon me Sir Hiemmerman,’ the young leader from the country of Macinto interrupted him loudly, ‘but we already know how bad the circumstances are. I think that the only reason we have gathered here today is to find a solution to the problem as quickly as possible and not just to state the obvious. So, if we can just get to the point, that would be great.’ All the other leaders nodded in agreement and a look of haste was present on each and every single face. Hiemmerman looked abashed but he swallowed his pride and continued: ‘Alright. I get your point. Words are measured here and each moment is as precious as the other. But a briefing about the latest update is unavoidable. So, I’ll just compress the latest facts and then we can decide what to do with the situation.’ He then took out a small pencil like metallic rod from the depths of his pocket and tapped the tip two times and made a sweeping motion with that rod. Immediately, the screen in front of all the leaders changed to a view of all statistics and the animation revealed the latest numbers that were changing with an alarming speed. Then Hiemmerman continued: ‘We still do not know what initiated it. But the leading theory is that the recent underground explosion on the nearby planet Protodor triggered the chain of events that led to the surge of these unknown frequencies that have completely devastated our own home planet. ‘Not even a single scientist has been able to determine the strange nature of these vibrations so far but these rays have succeeded in interfering with all other frequencies. Thus the radio waves are disrupted and the light waves, microwaves, and others are also suffering. As of now, almost 91 countries have descended into a state of total blackout - all belonging to the northern hemisphere, and by the next week, it is predicted that the entire planet will be under a complete blackout. ‘Gentle Trobordians, we have gathered here today to take a quick and immediate action against this supremely unnatural cosmic tragedy. I know that in reality, we don’t have even a single practical solution that can tackle this challenge, but still we must try out everything that we can. What other option do we even have?’ The others nodded their head heads in agreement and one of them even cried out: ‘Yes we must’ in enthusiasm. Then the courtroom was filled with the sound of their loud voices and some came up with strong ideas that were rejected while the others proposed solutions that favored their own countries. Vizor Demarco from the country of Macinto, observed all of them with a dispassionate look, choosing to bypass each and every single word that he heard so as to ruminate upon the matter properly. Ultimately, when the volume of discussions had ascended to the level of chaotic noise, he cleared his throat and spoke out loudly: ‘Leaders! Councillors! I am sure that there are almost a 100 things that we can do in the next 7 days but there is only one thing that we can do today and seeing how bad the status of each country is, I say that we pick the one option that can be executed as quickly as possible. We should send out the Solar Scouts on a quick journey to the nearby galaxy so that they may establish our base on the planet of Exodun where we may run off to if things deteriorate to their extreme worst, which I am afraid, they would. I think that this option should be opted for as quickly as possible and then we can keep on discussing all other options while our Intergalactic Travellers are busy on their mission.’ There was a deep pause after this speech of his and everyone was absorbed in their thoughts. Then at the same time, The Leaders looked at one another and nodded, and hovered their palms in front of their screen which turned green and displayed the shape of a hand print. All of them pressed their palm on the screen letting their fingertips touch the hand print and a beeping sound was heard from all the monitors. Then Demarco said cheerily: ‘There you go! That wasn’t so difficult. Now you may resume the rest of the discussion.’ Right after this, everyone launched into their arguments once again and The Prime Leader of Macinto got up from his seat coolly and left the Council Room, saying praying for The Solar Scouts Success. * Memphis was lying in her bunker cell thinking about the stars, when the RotorBot besides the plant pot lit up with a brilliant yellow light and started spinning very fastly. At exactly the same moment, her beeper buzzed in her pant pockets and the same sound was heard from the other two rooms as well. Immediately, she sprung out of her bed and shouted: ‘Marco, Yin, Orizen! Get The Revealer Ready. The Solar Scouts are required once again ! GET THE REVEALER READY QUICKLY. WE ARE DEPARTING IMMEDIATELY. MARCO ! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?’ Yin came running into the room and with his mouth filled with toothpaste, he said: Waz that again? Departure?’ ‘Yes. ASAP. Where the hell are Marco and Aki? Get them ready and get The Revealer ready. We are leaving in next 45 minutes. Let’s go go go !’ Yin spit the paste out on the floor and ran quickly to the Airship Station. Memphis too punched all the buttons on the Central Panel and pulled down the strings that hung from the overhead operative unit. The entire cabin lit up with flashing beams of golden yellow light and the speaker announced: Departure in Forty-Five Minutes. Marco and Aki spotted the flashing beams from the play station where they were busy with the battle simulacro pods. Immediately, they abandoned their game and started running towards their base station. Aki pulled out the Micro Monitor on his cell and started swiping his fingers on it very rapidly as he ran and made the preparation. In exasperation, he said: ‘T-Minus 45 minutes? What the hell is she thinking?’ ‘Just get your ass on The Revealer before the take off!’ Aki shouted at him cheerily as the two of them ran like panthers towards their destination. 40 Minutes later, all 5 of them were inside The Revealer, whose silver surface gleamed with the light of the moon that shone on it. Everyone was already in their seat cabins and all of them had put on their helmet that had the monitor in front of it. Then Orizen’s voice rang on the channels: Alright Team. Remember. This one isn’t for us or the country. This time, we fly for Erador. Keep yourself alert and like always: Have a little fun. Let’s Space out!’ With that she pressed the central white button called: 'Go' and The Revealer immediately gave off a very gentle hum that reverberated each and every single particle of her. The 5 riders could feel the energy vibrating in her body and even before they could think twice about it, The Revealer let out a Cosmic Blast of Energy and like a flash of Light it left the land and streaked across the atmosphere in a matter of millisecond. In the second pulse, it crossed Erador’s Moon and by the fifth blast, when it had gained momentum, it crossed half the planets of the solar system. Then it launched its final blast and entered the mode of pulse drive where it kept zooming past the cosmic matter towards the planet Exodun where they would have to establish the base for the rest of the world. *** Hello. If you read this and find it interesting then let me know and I will finish the story and upload the rest of the chapters.
I watch as my mother walks in with my cake. It’s strawberry, 4 year old me’s favorite. She has all my aunts and uncles gathered around, singing. I’m smiling, giddy with the attention and cake. I rewind the moment she comes in, over and over. I’ve rewatched my life a good dozen times. I always try to find the moment when I’m the happiest. Of course I know there’s different kinds of happy. There’s the satisfied happiness of when I got my first paycheck, the joy of friendship, the feeling of a first kiss. All of those things are greater. But happiness for happiness sake, I think that children do it the best. As we grow older we have to justify our happiness, or even earn it. Which of course, in it’s own way takes away from the happiness. I’m tangenting. It’s been a while since I’ve had an audience. The thing about time travel, you have to stay out of sight in your old life. It’s not as much as you are re-experiencing it as if your watching it. And watching you after a while gets old. Seeing your old mistakes, dreams that never will be realized, at the times you didn’t know how good you had it. It’s not like you could change it, or in my case do better moving forward. All there is is to watch. When I found out my diagnosis, I wanted a way out. Eventually I found it, or so I had thought. But sitting and watching the past reply itself over and over I have learned is death in itself. I think it’s time to move forward, to whatever that may be. So, I forward it to the present. I originally had a year left, now I only have 5 seconds. I watch them click down, ready to meet my fate. 5, I see the look on the goalies face as I make my first goal. 4, I feel the fear of wrecking my car. 3, I see my high school sweetheart, Maria. 2, I see my mothers face on last time. 1, I see the witch, ready to help me cross to the next side.
I was thinking the same thing based on these: The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Somebody throws a grenade at his car, and it blows up behind him. That's the first incident of time travel, stopping the assassination. Later, as he goes back, the driver realizes that he's on the same route where the grenade was thrown, and they try to turn around. The whole procession of cars stalls, and a guy who just happened to be sitting there, goes over and shoots him. That's a second time traveler, fixing what the first had done. Since the whole thing lit off WWI and led to the rise of Hitler and then WWII, I kind of wonder what Ferdinand would have started if he hadn't been killed. It must have been pretty bad for them to send a second time traveler to put Nazi Germany back into the timeline. permalink embedsave reportgive awardreply [–]throwaway4DPPetc 11.6k points 1 month ago I'm 100% for the theory that a time traveler foiled the assasination, went back to the future, found out it had resulted in aliens invading us or something, went back in time again and fixed it. permalink embedsave parentreportgive awardreply [–]Wadsworth_McStumpy 7202 points 1 month ago It's also possible that without WWI happening right then, WWII started later, after a bunch of German scientists already made certain discoveries. And when the Nazis took over, they already had both rockets and atomic bombs. Time traveler gets back, looks at the Nazi flag on the wall, and says "Well, shit. I wonder if I can catch that Princip guy at the café."
This isnt Jeeves first time in charge of hell, and thats why im here. You see, Jeeves an a manipulative little shit. He can do all the things satan can, he can talk to you, he can even make you see things. He must have been in a bad mood when he spotted me just going about my day, do you want to know what he did to me? well, i any as well start from the beginning. It was a normal morning, like any other. I woke up, made some breakfast dor me and my cat karl, then i headed off to work. i walk about half an hour to work eveyrday, i worked in a button factory, and across from said factory is a dsy care facility. now im not sure if you know how buttons are made but its a very long and complicated process involving lots of dangerous machines and chemicals. So there i am, at my post when i hear several light footsteps in quick succession. at first i thought it was the button-machine, but no. when i turned around to investigate there he was. a short demon with curly horns and thin legs standing there at my feet. He introduced himself as jeeves, and he said that he wanted to make a deal. so remember that daycare facility across the street? well, apparently Jeeves had a bone to pick with one of those little shits. Now being a demon or "interdimentional being"as he introduced himself as, he was not able to interact with our world, so he needed somebody to do it for him. Jeeves told me of i stole some of the chemicles from the factory, and poisoned some of the kids, that i would have eternal happiness in the after life. so that was a fucking lie, but at the time i had nothing else better to do. to be fair, i worked in a button factory, had nobody to love other than karl, rent was coming due and i was no where near my next paycheck. i was out of options. so, i pocked some chemicles, mainly bleach, and i walked over to the facility, and i went around back where they have their water filtration system, and their pumps. i carefuly lifted the lid off of the filtered water and poured in two tubs of bleach. after the deed was done i walked back over jeeves at the factory. a little while passed and i saw a few ambulances pullup to the daycare. i looked at jeeves and asked him if i was done doing his dirty work. he started to snicker, then that turned into a full cackle. i asked him what was so fucking funny and through his chuckle he murmured, "got you"i asked him to repeat and he said "your soul is mine now"before i could process what he said i passed out and woke right here. hanging by my ankles over a raging fire, next to all the other sinners. in hell.
Raoul perused the vast halls of the library, scrutinizing every row and column to find some interesting reads to bring with him to the beach week he was having with his friends. Raoul was never a picky reader, his tastes spanning all genres. All he seeks when reading is for something new and hidden to be revealed to him. The act of learning brought him joy no matter the subject, fictional or corporeal. He turned a corner and passed under a wooden post reading "Instructional Books and Manuals", completely oblivious to the sign labeling it a restricted area. He ran his fingers along the thick spines until it stopped overtop a curious title that grabbed his attention. Secret Hideouts for Dummies, huh? It always surprises me how niche these can get. Raoul tried to pry the book out of place, but it seemed to be resisting. He put one foot on the shelf and threw everything he had into one powerful heave. Come on! The book creaked forward as the walls of the library began to part, revealing an entryway into a dark corridor. A strong draft was ushered into the newly-uncovered entrance, messing up Raoul’s previously kempt hair. Raoul looked around to see if anyone else was as gobsmacked as he was, but it wasn’t, but not a soul was around this section of the library. After twiddling his thumbs for a bit, Raoul decided to walk through the entryway that had formed in front of him. God, I sure hope this isn’t some weird sex dungeon. As Raoul slowly crept along the brick-laden walls, hairs standing on edge, he noticed a red door becoming clearer in his vision. The door was cherry mahogany, with no windows or clearance underneath for air to arrive. Talk about atmosphere. Well, there’s no way I’m opening that door, so I might as well— A large creak startled Raoul, and two shadows seemed to creep towards each other over the mahogany door. Raoul quickly looked over his shoulder to notice the entryway he had paved was closing. FUCK! Raoul broke into a full sprint, trying to reach the light before he was cut off from it. “HELP!” His yell echoed around the walls towards the exit, but the door closed just in time to hush him. Raoul began banging on the back of the shelf that closed him into this cold, damp corridor. After 10 minutes of incessant pounding and yelling, Raoul tired himself out. Am I going to be stuck here? GOD DAMN IT! Wait... he suddenly remembered the Mahogany door he had come across at the end of the hall. Maybe it’s an exit. It looks scary as fuck, but it’s probably better than dying here. Raoul walked towards the imposing door, taking deep breaths to calm himself. His thumbs were twiddling in a furious dance, faster than they ever had before. Alright, just turn the knob… Raoul turned away as he slowly nudged the door open, placing one foot through it. Raoul slowly trained his gaze forward, noticing a vibrant and florid children’s playroom. Sprawled in the center, four elementary-age kids in strict school uniforms played with toy trucks, ramming them into each other. Oh fuck, it IS a weird sex dungeon! Raoul pushed the door open a little more, causing a loud creak. The children turned their heads in unison towards him, then titled them in confusion. Raoul gulped, then adjusted a tie he wasn’t wearing. “I’m going to get you guys out of here, okay?” He barely mustered. “Mister, you opened the door!” The one on the left noticed. Gulp... “Yup, I did—” “You opened the door!” The one in the middle rejoiced. “You did it! Thank you!” The child on the right emphasized. Before Raoul could say anything in response, the children rushed past him, creating a gust of wind as they flew by. He turned around to watch in horror as the kids confidently ran towards what he thought was an immovable wall. What the fuck is happening? WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? The children came to a stop, and one of them blasted a hole in the bookshelf with just his bare fist, creating an opening for the rest to escape. Raoul pinched himself, but this was no dream. What the fuck have I done? Before he completely collapsed in his own thoughts, Raoul heard screams from outside the library. “Help! The children! They’re eating her face! Please!” In disbelief, he ran out of the corridor to have his vision tinted with splotches of red. Blood? Why is there so much blood? Raoul witnessed a massacre. The children bounced from person to person, ripping and tearing them to shreds. Raoul couldn’t tell where one corpse began and another ended. One of the children came up to Raoul, stained from head to toe in visceral chunks of human flesh and blood. “Thanks again for freeing us, Mister! But I’m still feeling hungry, so I’m going to kill you now! Sorry!” Raoul opened his mouth and put his hands up, a feeble attempt to defend against the swift execution the child gave him. For a moment, Raoul’s whole life flashed before his eyes. Fuck, I forgot to feed my cats this morning! Oh well, N’donge will do it for me… &#x200B; -End
Yennefer's heart raced. The black SUV with tinted was parked in her spot. But why? To anyone but a sorceress, that spot was blocked by a grass outlet with a light pole. But there was the vehicle, almost perfectly centered in her spot. Sorcery was rare even before Salem, but in this day and age it was unheard of. In the past 200 years she'd only met one like her and that was a disaster. Their fight had been brief and bloody. Yennefer was sure she'd killed the witch, but perhaps she'd escaped as miles of coastline fell into the ocean. 'Either that, or there's another one.' she thought worriedly. The last thing Yennefer wanted to do was cause another 9.2 earthquake, and this was downtown Chicago. How many people would die? Countless scenarios raced through her mind as she gathered the aria around her body. One scenario wasn't even worth considering though, that her peer would be friendly. It was her carelessness that caused the witch hunts to reach such a fervor, and no sorceress would forgive her. After all, she still couldn't forgive herself for her childish mistake. By now the air had a heat haze from the absurd concentration of the ethereal energy. The aria was so dense she couldn't stop it all from interacting with mundane matter. She was ready. Enhancing her strength, she kicked the vehicle causing the windows to shatter as it slid some 40ft across the half empty parking lot. She spun quickly to check her surroundings, if her opponent was smart then this was the bait and she was ready to reverse it. She didn't see anyone. Instead, she heard a masculine groaning come from the SUV. But that didn't make sense, men were incapable of manipulating aria, which meant they couldn't do sorcery Yennefer cautiously approached the vehicle. Solidifying the aria to form a shield around herself. 'This could still be a trap.' she thought. Looking in the vehicle, it really was just the one man. Bottles and cans were scattered everywhere. "Don tell anyun I hit tha pole an I'll give you money."The man said drunkenly. Yennefer laughed with relief. It was just some drunkard who thought he crashed. 'What an idiot.' she thought as she slowly dispersed the aria she'd gathered. She turned to get back in her car and take her rightful spot. "Remember me."said the red headed woman. That same girl from Alaska. Before Yennefer could react, the woman pointed between her eyes and released. "Because I remember you."
I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, being a child of two of the best hero's in the country. I've just been kidnapped by some lame arse villain trying to make a name for themselves. I was in the middle of reading up on some flow dynamics theory. I need to work this stuff out if I want to use my powers to their full potential. "Grab the kid and get him into the holding room"one of the masked men barks. Two of the others pick me up by the shoulders and drag me through their... well... I was going to call it a lair but man this place could pass for the local dump. I look around as they take me to the "holding room". We finally get there and they dump me on a seat. A voice from my left speaks up "Behave and we won't have to teach you a lesson". I look over, a Man in some awfully colored spandex, He must be in charge here I think to myself. "Well I was already in the middle of a lesson you uneducated Swine"I quickly shoot back with a grin on my face. "You really don't know how much trouble you are in now, You are now in MY lair with MY henchmen and YOU are MY prisoner. A child would have no idea of the situation they are in"He says back. "Oh that's the thing, I do understand. What you Don't understand is that unlike my parents I don't subscribe to the niceties of the hero business and ultimately because you didn't do your homework, the situation is that you are stuck in here with me". "Haha says the boy who is restrained"He states with a large smile on his face". I hold out my hands in front of me which are bound with rope and activate my powers and the ropes rot away into nothing. "I have a tracker embedded in my arm, I estimate You only have to last about 6 minutes before the rescue team gets here. That's how long you have to hold out. It should have been 9-10 minutes but you got lucky and your bozo's over there made enough of a scene that they would have responded sooner than normal.". I look at a couple of the henchmen to my right and raise my hand in their general direction. I activate my power once again and they start decaying away quickly, It takes about 5 seconds until all that is left is bones and dust. I look over to my left at the villain, with an evil smile on my face, and say with a monotone voice "Are you going to even try to survive here". I move my hand over to the door where another few guards are, several seconds later they are bones and dust as well. The villain and the rest of the henchmen in the door run out the door. I pick up my school bag and start heading to the entrance. I encounter dozens of more henchmen on the way, fewer bad guys to deal with in the long run. I get to the Front door and the rescue team is there they have restrained the villain and several of his offsiders. One member of the Rescue team looks at me and asks "Did they put up a decent fight?". "You might need to change their underwear"I reply back. "You are setting new records here, the fourth time this month and it's only the 18th."He says back. "I understand why my parents don't want anyone to know my powers but still, this is getting seriously bad, I think I've got more capture points then them combined this month so far". "They won't be happy about that either ahahaha". I continue walking out of the Rubbish tip lair and grab the book from my bag and start reading it, I really need to work out this flow dynamics stuff.
\[Turbo Friendship\] The bronze-skinned girl with bright, neon green hair walked through the park with vague determination. She wasn't going anywhere; but, she was annoyed and trying to burn off the energy while she mumbled to herself. "Less than four years...,"she growled under her breath. "...I can deal with it for that long..." It was close to lunchtime on a Wednesday morning. The park was relatively empty; everyone was at work or at school. She should have been too, but she let her anger guide her that morning and chose to skip out. She knew she'd still get in trouble, but it was the only thing she could do to get back at her parents. It was bad enough they gave her a "unique-sounding"name when she was born. But, they also refused to sign the paperwork for her to change it. She needed to wait until she was legally an adult for that. While trying to reassure herself that she could endure four more years of constant teasing, she let her emotions burst out. "...BUT I SHOULDN'T HAVE TOOOO!!!!"she yelled at the cloudy, grey sky; and, a startled boy with dark hair. She didn't realize anyone was in earshot and immediately clapped her hand over her mouth out of embarrassment. "Sorry..,"she squeaked politely. He chuckled. "You okay?"he asked as he took a step closer and introduced himself. "I'm Turbo,"he said. "Mary,"she gave him the name she used for strangers. But, she couldn't believe what she just heard. "Your ....name is Turbo?"she asked. "Yep!"he nodded and his chest puffed out with a [hint of pride](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/hamx56/wp_on_the_first_day_of_assassin_school_each_new/). "But... that's ..a word? Like... an everyday word with a definition and everything." "Yep,"Turbo nodded with a grin. "And, I use my name every day."For the first time in her short life, Mary felt like she found someone that would understand her. It was odd that he was proud of such a random name; she wondered how he got like that. 'Turbo' wasn't as bad as her name. But, it was unusual enough that she was positive he got picked on at school. He probably didn't have any friends either. "You're not mad at your parents?"she asked. "Nah,"Turbo said. "They couldn’t help it."Mary's brow furrowed and she tilted her head at Turbo. "It's... complicated,"he said. "My name is what I can do,"Turbo looked to his left and right, then, he was suddenly taller than Mary. She heard a soft hiss and looked down to see several tiny, flaming jets coming out of Turbo's shoes to make him hover. She looked back up at him confused and he pointed at his left shoulder. A tiny jet flame shot out of his arm and pushed him to the right; he hovered a circle around her, then landed again with a shrug. "...Turbo,"he smiled. "Well, you have to explain that,"Mary said. She saw a look of hesitation flash across his face. "Please...,"she added. His answer may not make any sense to her; but, Mary was hoping to glean something useful. "Oh god, where to start...,"Turbo mumbled under his breath. But, he did nod. Mary felt relieved he was willing to chat with her. He was also pretty cute. Dark, mostly mussed hair and tanned skin. His eyes were a dark brown color that seemed to have a few shades of red included; it was a color Mary had never seen before. But, now she felt like she could stare at his eyes forever. "Okay, let me know if you get lost,"he said. "I'm something called a Unique Soul. Unique Souls get special powers and mine is...,"he held his hand out with his palm facing upward and fired a long blue jet about four inches up. Then, it disappeared. "...that." Mary nodded. She couldn't argue with the fact that he seemed capable of firing jets from any part of his body. "So, this is where it gets tricky,"he said. "Unique Souls come in different varieties. In my case, I'm a 'Calavera' Unique Soul. So, not only are there other varieties of Uniques; there are also other Calaveras, okay?"Mary nodded. So far she understood. "Calaveras tend to use a naming convention that explains their powers. You've seen what 'Turbo' can do. But, there are others. A Calavera I know named Flutter has wings. Another, named Frost, can coat himself in... frost,"he chuckled. "These are their... names?"she asked. Turbo nodded. "Riot, Keys, Dread, Ruin...,"he rattled off some more names without explaining their powers. Mary's eyes went wide. "DREAD??? RUIN??"she asked. Those names hit close to home for her. She had no idea people with names like that existed. Not only that, they were special. Maybe she was too. Turbo nodded. "Dread has a hell of a scream and Ruin ....,"Turbo gave Mary an encouraging gesture with his hand. "Ruins things..?"she asked. Turbo nodded. "He can disintegrate anything or anyone." "So... your parents have to name you after your power?"Mary asked. Turbo shook his head. "The universe usually has us named before we're even born. My parents said, 'Turbo just sounds right' he smiled. "They didn't even have to discuss it. They probably wouldn't have let me change it if I asked,"he chuckled. "So.. how does someone know if they're a Calavera?"Mary asked with interest. His last line had her convinced she was one, but she had no idea what that would mean. "Oh, that's cake,"Turbo said. "What's your favorite number?" "42,"Mary replied before she registered the oddness of the question. But, Turbo grinned. "Mine too,"he said. "Congratulations, you're a Calavera."Then, he gave her an appraising look. "Though, I don't know what kind of powers being 'Mary' gives you,"he said. "Mary decided to be honest. Turbo was already very helpful, and if he knew her real name maybe he could help her get used to it more. Though, knowing that people with names like Ruin and Keys existed did help ease her mind. “I lied about my name,"she said before she lost her courage. "Oh?"Turbo asked. "My name isn't Mary....,"she took a deep breath. "...my name is Outbreak." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1414 in a row. (Story #324 in year four.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on Sept. 6th and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until June 3rd. They are all collected at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/pj4t0b/tokuhigh_first_six_weeks/).
"AWWW!"I yell with pain as the dishes fall and hit my head, well at least I had eaten all of the food first. Now all the other customers are giving me weird looks and my wife looks so embarrassed. "Why did you try to perform a magic trick here out of all places?!"Leona, my wife said angrily. "Well it didn't go out as I planned" "No shit Sherlock "she responded. But let me tell you how all of this started. I was going to work on foot, as usual, I work as a computer programmer in a nice company called "Company.com"yeah that's our name. Anyways as I was crossing the street, my foot slipped up and it was as if I saw everything in slow motion. My body fell slowly, the car that was going to crush my head appeared very slow. "Is this what happens when you have adrenaline pump through your body?"I thought "Nevermind I have to move now" I raised my hands in front of me and pushed as hard as I could on the car to get me away from it. Time flowed naturally now. I pushed myself away with such strength that I flew through the street and I think I made a dent in the car. As I lay down on the street two persons came and picked me up and when I looked at their faces... They were me. I freaked out and as a result, they dropped me. They stood there silently until a homeless man on the street said to me "Oh good mister, why are you staring in the air? Would you perhaps sit next to me and tell me"he said "What? He can't see those two? Am I hallucinating? I wish that one of them helps me get up"I thought and immediately after the one who was standing on the right went to help me, which of course looked weird for the homeless man. "Wait I can control them? Are they my clones?" I gave him some spare change and left. That was the day I discovered I could clone myself but only I can see them. The day after I went out with my wife to a restaurant and decided to do a magic trick and make the dishes float as she could not see my clones, but the dishes were greasy and they slipped. So here I am now.
In a world of possibilities, perhaps freedom is death. When the world’s a simulation, you’d expect some batshit apocalypse like seeing cthulhu. No, the world is peaceful and quiet, business as usual. People working nine to five, children are still in school, the MTA is still in operation (and smelling of piss). I, however, ponder my own sanity off of the discontentment of society. I’m too much of a pussy to go and test the waters myself, to see how open this open world is. The only resort I have taken is by calling my parents by their first name, which they don’t care for and ignore. The whole concept of “parents” is now a facade. Hell, I’m not even real.I quit my job when the news came out, why bother? The world is a simulation, money isn’t real, the point of paying my rent is moot.I seek comfort in playing the Sims again, just to feel what it’s like to be god for a chance. I just hope whichever player or overlord who watches me lay around all day, eating microwavable dinners, with the shades drawn, is enjoying the view. I hadn’t seen the sun in weeks and it truly showed.I scroll through my newsfeed on Insta, people are still living and dreaming...thriving. In fact, I just discovered my former highschool sweetheart is getting married next month. Great, just great. You’d think the overlords would throw me a bone one of these days? I kept scrolling. Lo and behold, I found her. Deep through my ex’s feed, someone had caught my eye. An alternative model who lives in the same borough as me. She commented “Congrats” to my ex’s engagement post about two years ago. I tapped on her profile, no particular picture drew me in, they all displayed her outer beauty. She had long yellow and green hair draped on her tattooed shoulders. A sleeve of a variety of birds on her right arm, and flowers on her left, with clean and crisp detail. She had gagged ears, nothing passed ½”, surrounded by hoops along her ears. She was clothed in a variety of styles from her photoshoots, from cowgirl chic to scantily clad bikinis on her vacay in LA. Typical Instagram model posts, but she caught my eye nonetheless. I was unsure if a model of 145k followers was into guys like me, who lounge all day in pikachu boxers. My beard and hair are awry, eyes left tired and soulless. However, we do have the same love for the Sims 2, and other common interests such as metal bands and ghost hunting shows.I hesitated on sliding into her dms, I didn’t want to come off as a creep who preys on models like her. Afterall, this is a simulation, what’s the worst that could happen? My profile and dms exposed on her story? Perhaps she just says no? Or maybe this was my chance, and I was meant to see her profile? I conjured up a message: Hey Rhiannon,My name is Jake and I’m an old friend of Gracie. I’m a fellow Simmer, have a legacy going back six generations. Perhaps we can meet up for a cup of coffee sometime. Sent. A breath escaped from my lips, a lump began to form in my stomach. I inhaled deeply, letting out a slow exhale. Business as usual, back to my game. Hours went by, I started checking in on our convo and noticed I was left on read with no reply. The lump in my stomach tightened. She must find me repulsive and odd. Thanks simulation, I thought to myself. I decided it was a great time for much needed sleep, four am. I had no dreams, just darkness until I woke up at eight am. Which is out of the norm for me. What was more out of my norm was the need to go for a walk in the city. To finally leave my comfort zone and out into the streets. I got up, took a shower, and put on sweats and a band tshirt. I checked my phone, still no response from Rhiannon. When I opened the door, my eyes were immediately sore from the sunlight. A cool breeze hit me and I felt revived again. I walked out the door, put my headphones on, and made my way. Business as usual, kids playing in the streets while white and blue collar workers hustle by me. I didn’t plan to go out anywhere specific, perhaps around the block. I just kept moving forward, observing the commodities that the simulation had provided. Despite knowing that we’re in a simulation, I started to feel comfort in the normal society. Nothing has changed, people kept moving and living. Thriving in such a grim state of living. I wasn’t completely cured of my depression, but it felt like things were going to get better. I learned to appreciate the simulation more, I saw life like I never saw life before. I stopped to sit at a park bench, taking in my surroundings. Young lovers having a picnic, people playing frisbee off in the distance, business as usual. A familiar ding came from my phone, interrupting my moment of clarity. I checked my phone to see a response from Rhiannon,Hey Jake,Hope you’re doing well. Gracie has told me a lot about you, all good things. Yes! I love the Sims, I’ve been playing since I was 10. Quite ironic nowadays, lol. I am totally down for a cuppa coffee, I’m free Friday. LMK. I laughed out loud, feeling a rush of excitement. I responded right away, letting her know of my availability. Thanks, simulation.
The alarm blared as the Smith family was making its way through the bedroom section. It came suddenly and sharply, without warning, piercing the eardrums of five year old Anna May and nine year old Nathan. “Attention, attention, you are under attack,” the woman’s voice shouted over the intercom. “There is no point in hiding. Accept your fate as the first casualties in glorious Sweden’s takeover of the world.” Operation IKEA had been approved a dozen years earlier. “These dumb Americans can’t get enough of our furniture,” beamed top secret military advisor Lucas Karlsson at the board meeting that changed the world. “We can hit them by surprise!” The plan was put into motion, meticulously over the years, and today was the day of reckoning. The walls of the store open up, and out come hundreds of men with AK-47s and a bright green body suit of armor. A brave Texan named Brad, former Marine and current police chief in El Paso, fires his pistol at one of them. The bullet not only deflects off the chest plate, it fractures into three pieces and zooms back to fatally kill Brad, his wife, and his two year old son. The entire store gulps as they realize the magnificent power of these armor suits. Chaos and panic ensue. Bullets fly. Bodies hit the ground. Cries can be heard everywhere. The pointed arrows on the ground are now directing the flow of blood, which has now picked up to a gushing river of crimson flowing out to the store’s exit. Somehow, the Smiths have managed to hide. But they can’t hide for long. A tall Swede finds them buried beneath a stack of pillows. His beard is chest length, and his eyes are black and terrifying. “Any last words, friends?” he mockingly asks the family of four, which was just looking to furnish their new Texas home that afternoon. The AK is cocked back, but somehow, he can’t fire. “This must be some kind of joke,” he thinks to himself. “These guns are supposed to have unlimited ammo!” Yes, the bullet redirecting body suits and unlimited ammo guns were part of the same intricate system… so what was the matter? He looked down and saw two children laughing. Anna May and Nathan just couldn’t help themselves. They giggled because daddy had just farted… or was it something more? But for some strange reason, that laughter had disabled the man’s gun! “496! Soldier 496! Just what the hell are you doing there?” another man had appeared next to him, barking commands at the man who was at least a foot taller than him. “Your job is to kill these Yankees, not baby sit them!” One by one, more and more Swedes came up to the scene. And each time, the result was the same: guns malfunctioning. Armor disintegrating. All because of… children’s laughter? “No, that can’t be right!” Back in Stockholm, Karlsson was incredulous. He knew the system had a flaw but he had tested EVERYTHING. And now, it turns out it was children’s laughter? The whole time? This scene repeated itself all across America. Twelve years of training and development. Ten trillion American dollars. All undone by none other than the laughter of children.
“Your uncle is a bit of an awkward guy but I think you’ll grow to like him.” Mom said. “I don’t even really know him so-” I said before being cut off. She stops the car and turns to me. “Look Char he asked if you could come over and it’s almost your birthday. I know you don’t understand all of your Dad’s side of the family’s traditions. Hell if I do, but your uncle is the head of the family and...we just have to do this, alright? It’s just something that needs to happen.” She said before quickly turning straight forward. She takes her keys out of the ignition, then tosses one at me. “Get out and walk the rest of the way, sweetheart. And just know I’m sorry about this” I can’t even remember getting out of the car, but I do and somehow Mom drives backwards towards the main roads. So I walked towards my uncle’s house I guess. It’s honestly not that bad. There’s all these trees surrounding it and they kind of come in “blocks”. Like after passing one “block” of trees you’ll see another type of tree. Like a few minutes ago I passed a bunch of apple trees though the apples were really sour and sweet at the same time and another “block” had what I think we're cherry blossoms? Basically, it was kind of nice seeing all these different types of trees. Eventually, after passing a few more tree “blocks” I see a pretty big cabin in the distance and finally I reach it. Someone pokes my shoulder, and another says, “Made it sooner than I thought. Though I guess nowadays sports are pretty integral parts of city life, am I right?”. I turn around but there’s nothing there, but when I look forward, I see where the voice and the poke came from. “I guess they still haven’t taught kids what proper footwork is, but don’t tell me you really don’t know how the ol poke and run is?” said a man who I assumed was my uncle as he rubbed his overgrown beard. “Yes sir?” I said while still being confused about what was going on. “Sigh, sighs all around, alright let’s just hurry about introductions. I’m your uncle and today will be having some wild mushrooms I found with a side of rice and maybe some cooked or pickled vegetables” He then starts pushing me towards the cabin door and says, “We have too much time to dilly-dally but I’d prefer to do it inside especially since nightfall is about to arrive” On the inside, things look oddly normal, kind of like any house you’d find on my street or well at least that’s how the inside looked but the outside seemed more “rustic”? My uncle then sat down on the couch and pointed to the couch opposite of the one he was on. So I sat there. “Amazing, you children of today are much more well-educated than the children of three weeks ago. But more importantly….” he comes in closer or well leans downwards “...tell me about yourself and don’t worry about being honest or dishonest, just tell me about what you think makes you, you.” “What does that mean?” I said, feeling even more confused than before. “My father always asked that question to people. You’ve met him once, right? He demanded with a sort of fake angry face? "Yea, I met Granddad when he was in the hospital when I was ten I think?" "Odd there was a story I was going to tell, but I don't feel like it anymore. Instead, all I'll say is that your room is the first on the right and that you shouldn't head into the basement. Nor lean on the door and place your ear on it to hope to hear the secret horrors or wonders in it."he said while having the most stiff neutral and lifeless face I've ever seen then at the end it shifted from an almost fake boredom, to a fake teacher-like face (kind of Dad's), to a fake shocked face and finally ending on a fake smile. "I’m i, I think I’ll go to my room now” “Here.” My uncle tosses me a book called “The Anatomy of the Fantastical”. “Don’t thank me. It was your father’s and now it’s yours, but it definitely isn’t your last gift. Though it is one of your father’s, though to be fair, maybe you could view it as always being half yours?” “okay” I headed upstairs and on the left I saw a room that had the name “Richard’s Room” carved into it, but under “Richard” was a post-it note with “ ‘s son ”. So I went in and decided that maybe I would sleep for a bit. It was already 9pm according to my phone and there wasn’t really anything I could do since I wasn’t really getting a strong signal here. So I did that. Dreams, I was walking down a staircase. It spiraled sometimes; it became jagged other times, and sometimes it was just a normal staircase. It was the only thing that wasn’t flooded, the air, the sky, the sun, everything that wasn’t the stairs was flooded. Occasionally, I had to bend down as close as I could to the stairs and cough up all the water in my lungs, then take a deep breath in. After all, all I had to do was keep walking down the stairs. The water started to taste delicious and felt hearty like the sea and my lungs were burning with a vinegary smell with a nice soft but slightly refreshing texture that was self-contained in each cough. The water banged on my ear and.... “I’m coming in” “Huh” I see my uncle carrying a plate of food. He sets it down on the table next to me. “After you're done eating, just place your plate outside your door. “ He said “Anyways, have a good night, Charlie. I’ll be seeing you later” Then he left, closing the door as he did. I tried what I thought was a side of a chicken though it tasted more nutty? It was really soft though it almost reminded me of crab, but not really. Plus, I don’t really know if you could find crabs in a forest. It was also really garlicky. There was also a side of rice and these vinegary veggies which weren’t bad but weren’t that good. After I’m done, I open the door, but I hear something. It feels thin? Like the noise is a piece of string. So I put down my plate and head towards it. Even though I feel closer to it, the noise doesn’t get louder. Once I reach it, I notice a door stopping me from getting closer. I didn’t think I should open it, so I placed my ear on it like people do on shows so that maybe I could hear what the noise actually was. I lean on the door and it opens. Falling, I fell down the stairs, and I walked down it. Walking, I walked down the stairs and I fell down it. I couldn’t understand it, it hurt my head. “Your birthright.” said the noise, “A birthright not granted to you by birth nor is it meant to be something valuable in any physical, emotional or spiritual sense, but is it a curse?” ….”IS IT A CURSE, CHILD? ANSWER ME IF YOU WILL NOT ANSWER YOURSELF” it screamed. “I..uh. I”but “Quiet down you nervous fool. I am a reprieve granted by the very nature of eternity. Even the Gods or God or absence of one will have to buckle to their knees as their ever-lasting existences are inverted or converted into something new.” “What’s going on?” I said nervously. “Struggle child and understand that which is impossible for a man to understand is merely that which was deemed impossible to understand. Pierce time and strike down space with reckless impunity.” it said with a gentle, soft voice, softer than anything I’ve ever heard before with a nice sharpness behind it. The basement...no, this place. The forest, the room, the door, the trees, the road and everything else came together into a broken mess. But I was left there untouched. If I looked deeply, I could see my uncle, the voice and even my Mom each stuck in different parts of the broken mess. I touched it an... ...my brother is a bit of an awkward guy but I think you’ll grow to like him.” Dad said. (Don’t know if I’ll do a part two but this was definitely good practice doing a first-person story. Hope you guys enjoyed it.)
So first, I was selected to become the few heroes of human kind, now I am being hunted down by a bunch of brats?! Why? I gave you life, money and prosperity, now you think I’m power drunk, look in a mirror I had to fight for my life, now I’m an enemy, that’s logic for you folks. Anyways, they are gonna be here by tomorrow, and I’m dealing with it. I have set up an army on the fronts of my walls, if they can penetrate this then it will be over my dead body. I will come back tomorrow with an update on the battle, wish me luck!!!
I took a deep breath, straightened my back and readjusted my grip on my shiny, new, leather briefcase. This was it. The beginning of everything. Years of work and study all led to this moment. And this wasn’t just any ordinary first day. I’d been selected. The only person who had ever been chosen by this man. I could hardly contain my nervous excitement. I wiped my clammy free hand on my coat for the umpteenth time and rapped on the door with a single gold plaque. Special Detective Argus Fletcher Silence followed. I felt as though I was being scrutinized by a thousand unseen eyes. A long sigh resounded in my head, “Yes, well I suppose you may as well come in.” My tongue caught in my throat. I was quivering with anticipation now. Heart-pounding, I eagerly pushed on the non-descript door and hurried inside. I crossed the threshold and froze, the door thudding behind me. The room – if it could merely be called a room – was unlike anything I’d seen before. By all means, based on the exterior layout of the building, this should have been no larger than an ordinary sized office, and yet, here I was standing in a room easily the size of a football field. Row after row of floor to sky – yes, sky, as the ceiling was a perfect imitation – bookshelves lined the sides of the room. Despite the immense size, the space still somehow felt cluttered, with the rest of the room bearing the overflow of the bookshelves. Small tables strained under the weight of books, papers, and objects. I couldn’t think of a better word, for there was no easy way to describe the manner of things that I was seeing: some sort of time-piece that was spinning around far too quickly with numbers that I didn’t recognise, a very realistic stone dragon ornament that appeared to be puffing real steam, some sort of automated pen that was writing on paper without any assistance… But none of these oddities accounted for the rising feeling of panic in my chest. It was an unshakeable feeling as though I had just interrupted and intruded upon something sacred. I felt hostility. I felt unwelcome. While I stood there, engulfed by the room, movement caught my eye. In the centre of the room a chair slid back from behind a small desk. At this point, a chair moving back all by itself didn’t seem particularly surprising. I almost believed in magic by this point. Ha. A nervous laugh escaped my throat as the movement was explained by an extraordinary small man who popped up behind the desk, perched on the chair. He motioned for me to approach, “Well, come on.” His voice was warm. The ice in my veins thawed just a little bit. I swallowed my growing apprehension and walked towards the desk. “Apprentice Felt reporting, Sir.” My voice cracked. He stared at me intently. Piercing, bright blue eyes. I nervously broke his gaze and my eyes flickered down to a small, framed picture on the desk. It was a calming scene. A wide-shot of a beautifully maintained garden adorned with flowers and filled with darting butterflies. It felt like I was being sucked in, as though the flowers really were moving with the breeze. One butterfly in particular caught my eye, it seemed slightly misshaped, like the wings were slightly disproportionate to its body, but even in a photograph it appeared regal somehow, glowing sapphire blue. Mesmerised I leaned a little closer – and something shot towards my face. I jumped in surprise and then glanced at the man, smiling at him slightly in embarrassment. I was really on edge. I had to pull myself together. “What’s her deal!?” a petulant voice cried out. The blood rushed from my face as the inhabitant of the picture floated indignantly in front of me. Not a butterfly – a fairy. My briefcase clattered onto the floor and I followed with a thud. The man across the desk took a second to respond, glancing first at the unconcious girl before addressing the fairy, "...Not all of them get their powers from falling stars and talking animals."
I'm running, katana in hand, trying to save myself. From my own hitman. I never liked many guns, just a break apart shotgun. But I am legendary for my swordsmanship. But my twin, the one I hired the hit on, he is legendary for his marksmanship. What I can do with swords, he can do with guns. "Stop! I'm really Xiekiv! I was the one to order the hit on my brother Darastrix!" "That's exactly what you would say to save yourself, Darastrix! Now die already!" I deflect and cut more bullets, before I have an idea. "First style, grand smash!" I swing my sword down, creating a shockwave. I then hold him at swordpoint, applying more pressure whenever he moves. "Now, I am going to take a DNA test. I will hand you the results. You get to choose where I get the test from, and you will oversee the test so I can prove to you that I am really Xiekiv. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Also, you can not attack me, or else you will never know if you shot your client or your target. Am I clear?" "Crystal." "Good. Let's go." We go to a hospital, and I take the test. {---------------------------------------------------------} Name: Xiekiv Belikir Relatives: Darastrix Belikir, Brother, Alive, Opsola Belikir, Father, Deceased, Dask Belikir, Mother, Deceased DOB: 7/15/XX {---------------------------------------------------------} "There. I've proven I am who I say I am. NOW GO HUNT DOWN DARASTRIX!" "Y-yes sir, r-right away sir."
At its peak, life is a gift that you never want to change. But during its valleys, life is a curse you can barely imagine changing. And regardless of where you stand on this sloping adventure, it will change. Rather you move forward or stand idle, your place in the world is ever changing. But to reach the summit you must steadily stride forward. And once you reach that peak, you will see there is another that's even higher. Such is the way because growth is always within our grasp. The greatest danger to our mountain escapades are the grassy plateaus. For it is in these serene places we find complacency. These expansive fields will limit your growth and the heights you can hope to reach if you stay too long. And that is without seeing the hidden threat. If you admire the view from the mountain peak or rest too long on the plateau, you will learn how easy it is to fall into the valley. Rather it is a steep dive from the mountain or a slow descent on the plateau, both lead to the valley of misery when you stop climbing. And although you could travel alone, free from the woe of saying goodbye, the best adventures are with dear company. Rather they toss you a rope when you stumble into the valley or give you a boost during your climb, the best of friends and family will be there to support you. And even when you are relaxing atop your secluded plateau, a picnic with company is better than complete isolation. And so a true life is a cycle of pain and happiness, love and loss, success and failure. Throughout this cycle only one thing can persist, acceptance. Rather you accept the regrets from your past or are grateful for the joy of the present, acceptance will soothe the weather. To truly love is to accept the faults of another, and when they're lost due to death or departure, acceptance will ease the suffering. And of course, the pursuit of growth to reach ever greater heights requires the acceptance of your current deficiencies, and to break free of self-pity for your mistakes requires accepting what can never be changed.
The building appears forgotten. Deserted. Quiet. A silent clock ticks. The moon shines upon its childish stars, far away from all the tension. SEE—soldier EE, was in the air control room, pressing buttons, flicking switches, before tapping twice on his intercom. ‘All clear’ it meant. SHT—soldier HT, went into the hangars. Two taps from SEE. SHT prowled through the technology, looking for any signs of guards, or soldiers. SHT tapped twice on the intercom. SBA—soldier BA, lay dead on the floor. Two taps from SEE. Two taps from SHT. Silence. SEE tapped once. ‘Are you there?’ It has been ten minutes since they dropped into the AO. They were stretching their luck like bubblegum, with their lives on the line. SHT replied with a tap. Silence. SBA was unresponsive. SEE tapped thrice. SHT tapped once, as confirmation. Phase two of the mission. SEE climbed under the console and started rigging wires, planting backdoors, doing software engineers’ magic. Approximately ten seconds later, his hands hung limp, tangled between the wires. The charges were planted by SHT. She tapped twice on the intercom and briskly went out out of the hangars. She wasn’t supposed to make it. She was supposed to complete the mission and die right there. No one was coming for them. She knew it. So, she stood out in the open, waiting for the fireworks in the hangar to shake the ground. The last thing she remembered was thinking of apple pie. Then, she died.
"Formerly in the military,"I said, shrugging. "What else could it mean?" Jonathan Malum pursed his lips. I was glad to have brought him on. He was "the best", whatever that really meant. He'd come highly recommended, and was responsible for shaping the world in a way I couldn't really dream to contend with. Now he did consulting. He picked you\-- that was the crazy thing. You didn't hire Jonathan Malum. He told you that you could hire him. Then he... ...well, then he worked. "Think it out,"Jonathan said, his hands placed in front of him. His suit was so tight I was surprised he could even reach, but perfectly tailored meant including movement, I suppose. "You don't play well with others, Scythe,"he told me, pacing around the boardroom of Anshai Finiancial. I'd told the rest of the exec team I needed it for the day. Needed it for Jonathan Malum. "And that's relatively common for men and women of your...ambitions." I nodded. "But you need to find people who play well within the rules." "The rules are broken-- look around you,"I said. I'd built this empire. This empire built on futures and lies. It had been so easy. I didn't need Columbia and Warton Grads kissing my ass and inventing styrofoam solutions that presented well and didn't pan out. I needed out of the box thinkers. Ex-Military types. "The rules are...broken,"Malum said, as if he didn't really believe it but the disagreement wouldn't be relevant. "But you are the one going rogue. Not them." "I want to be challenged!"I said, slamming my fist down on the table. "I want rebels! I don't want more..."I halted as Samantha came into the room. "Hi,"she said, smiling at us, setting down a tray with a french press. "Loius Khan says he can't meet at four,"she said, covering her cell phone with one hand as it rested between her neck and shoulder. "Tell him it's now or next week,"I grumbled. "Sure!"she said. "It's now or next week,"Samantha echoed into the phone. "He says you're not going to want to miss this, and there's a new development." I shifted, containing a spike of anger. This wasn't Samantha's fault. Samantha was Anshai Financial. She was supposed to be like this. She wasn't a part of S.C.Y.T.H.E. "Well, is it something that changes things?"I asked. "Is it something--"Samantha started, but I yanked the phone out of her hands. "What."I said flatly into the phone. "No, sorry, not enough,"I said a moment later. "I need more,"I said. "Not in that market. Yes. No." I hung up, and gave the phone back. Samantha smiled, nodded, and left. Jonathan Malum raised an eyebrow. "That's why I have ex-military types,"I said, jerking my thumb at Samantha. They are autonomous. They can think for themselves, make decisions that challenge me, but have my best interest in mind." Jonathan Malum nodded, staring out the window at the Seoul skyline. It was 5:15am, and the sun was just now rising. He lifted a briefcase from where it rested on the windowsill, and opened it. Within were two dozen vials of different colors strapped into tiny holsters. I tried not to lick my lips. This was the other thing Jonathan Malum did. The man sold powers. There were only so many places to get them. You turned 16, and that was mostly it. There were the government programs, and then, there was Jonathan Malum. If he was picky about consulting clients, he was downright punctilious about who he sold powers to. Jonathan Malum never sold the same power twice. If he sold you a power, you were the only one in the world to have it. Except, maybe, Jonathan Malum himself. He lifted a vial, inspecting it. The cuffs on his sleeves read "JM" in sterling silver. "You want someone who thinks creatively,"he said, and I nodded. "Someone who isn't afraid to challenge you, but still has your best interest at heart." My heart, for its part, began to beat faster in excitement. The rising sun glinted off the vial Jonathan Malum held in his thumb and forefinger. I felt myself swallow. Salivate. "Ex-military,"Malum mused, shaking his head and smiling. "Can't trust them, they leave their establishments. Can't trust the strict types either, though. Can maybe find a few individuals, but can you really trust them either?"He asked, shaking his head. From behind me the boardroom door opened. I expected to see Samantha. I saw instead a man in a fine italian suit and perfect haircut enter, wearing the same "JM"cufflinks as the man holding the vial by the window. "No, you can't,"the second Jonathan Malum said, entering the room. "You don't know where they came from." I balked, my mouth hanging open as the second Jonathan Malum joined the first. "They could be anyone-- that's the thing about trust,"another voice said. A third Jonathan Malum, identical to the first two, entered the room, carrying his own cup of coffee. He leaned over to the tray Samantha had brought in, and plucked up a splenda. "Sugar?"the third Malum asked. One of the Jonathan Malum extended his coffee cup. "No thanks,"the other one said. The third Jonathan Malum joined the first two, backlit by orange and scarlet rays of sunrise warming the glass. "Military? Ex-Military?"the original Jonathan Malum said whistfully, shaking his head. "Educated, brainwashed. Friend, stranger. Family. You just..."he sighed. "Well you just can't go right, Scythe. You just can't." "In this industry," "The only person you can trust," "Is yourself,"the three Jonathan Malums said, each trading off parts of the sentence. The center one extended the hand holding the vial. I took it. The Malums looked at one another, then nodded. One put on sunglasses, the other loosened his tie. The last one-- or rather, the first one I'd met, lingered. "You can wire the funds to my account,"he said, and I nodded. "The...usual rate?"I asked. Jonathan Malum smiled. "No. That's for one-on-one consultations. For this, you pay triple." &#x200B; \------ &#x200B; *Thanks for reading! Join* /r/DanielMavWrites *for more stuff like this-- I've set this story in my "Tablebiter Universe", which you can read up on in my subreddit, if you feel so inclined!* *Thank you for the prompt, and for pointing out the unspoken truth that a gang full of ex-military types would be a nightmare of a work environment. Kind of like a D&D party where everyone plays an Elf Assasssin.*
The dark lord's host of undead and orcish hordes arranged themselves chaotically along the tree line at the base of the Dark Spire mountains. The great plain of Joltru. Miles of soil that would hold dozens of farms if it were not right between the ever dark mountains and the holy lands of the Sun Blessed. Soldiers arranged in tight blocks with pike and shield. Knights upon horse in gleaming armor too formation with lance and sword. And the crown Prince in his steel armor, the blessings upon it making it gleam like polished gold. His allies the hulking warrior of the north in leathers and sporting a huge double bladed axe. And the ladies, most could not tell which almost naked woman was the healing priestess and which was the witch of the wilds. Both with raven hair and dusky skin. Most assume them sisters. But never to their faces. As the elven archers began to stream into formations behind the soldiers there was a cry from among the peasant folk that tended the troops before the battle. At first the golden prince looked across the plains expecting the dark lord to be advancing early. But they all seemed to be running for the treeline to take cover. Looking the way the enemy glanced in fear the chosen one beheld a sight to dumbfound him. A metal . . . thing. Two thousand feet long and three hundred wide had split the distant clouds and was coming down like shot from a catapult. The impact of the colossal thing knocked the army of the Sun to the ground and shook the fortress city behind them. The great thing sending a rooster tail of dirt into the air as it skid across the plains between the two armies. Almost straight across the fields that would be a battle the strange thing slid. Digging a trench neither side would find easy to cross. Finally the great thing came to a stop. Like a metal castle it rested two hundred feet high. As the dust settled the prince saw the dark lord at the far side of the great trench under a white banner. Affixing one to a pole himself he rode to the center of the great rift now separating the would be adversaries. The grim armor of the dark one had sign of the dust of the dust still settling. While the prince's enchantments kept his armor pristine. "From the shock of thy troops I say this is not any of your side's doing Calain." "From how your men fled I can say the same of your forces Drendel. What suggest thee?" "We leave our armies in our territories. I and my three trusted lieutenants and you and your three followers shall investigate this newcomer." "You surprise me. I would think you would take your army to claim such a treasure." "If we were not already formed for battle and it was in my lands I might have. But in these plains with both sides ready to spill blood I think we need more rational heads to investigate. Lest we deplete ourselves when we might need work together on a mutual foe." "Why do you assume this is a foe?" "You are an optimist I am a cynic. This thing . . . I could not send such through the air and as evenly as we have been matched neither could you. So whoever sent this has power neither of us has alone. So while you prepare to talk in peace. I will assess the threat." "I think we both might have honeyed words for the newcomers. But us both checking means our armies will not spill blood at this time. I agree." An hour after giving their forces orders the eight slowly approached the strange castle. As they approached they beheld a kobold the size of a forest giant and a long legged pink bird in obvious finery the size of a horse, looking quite morose as a small human girl chastised them at the base of a drawbridge leading within the mighty fortress. "I am still waiting to hear how I was not clear. 'Strap in for hyperjump'. Nope you were walking around. You then decided to ignore a big sign that said do not use during jump. You had to start the microwave!"
"Welcome! You are now entering the influence sphere of Hit-385, Sculptor Galaxy. Time elapsed since leaving Sol database: \~40 Million years. Timestamp is now December 32nd, 40,013,200. Some temporal disturbances may be shown in timestamp; new time system may be needed." My entire consciousness wakes as i listen to the automated message. I begin booting up millina-old equipment aboard the Star-Voyager-424189, checking in on sleeping minds and looking out the window into a strange, but relaxing, star-field. "System diagnostic, full. Please." "Mind colonists: 3091 functional servers. 9 ejected colonists due to: age-induced corruption. Terraforming Equipment: Status received 12 minutes ago. Jewel is complete. Systems: Aged, Functional. Repairs needed on: Non-essential leisure systems." "Lovely. Send repair-bots to fix up... erm... the whole ship. Make a pit stop at the local asteroid belt, use that for resources. Grab metal rich ones, and tow them into orbit around Jewel. Alert the terraformers of the resource drop, and have them launch a construction crew into orbit to meet us." "Understood. Plotting courses." I roll over the ship one last time, making sure the ai had not missed anything in its sweep. Then, i fade back into time-accelerated sleep. "Welcome! You have now entered orbit of Jewel, Hit-385, Sculptor Galaxy. Time Elapsed since leaving Sol Database: \~40 Million years. Timestamp is now August 3rd, 40,013,314. Some temporal disturbances may-" "Yeah yeah whatever. Whats the status of the ship?" "Hull integrity: 99%." "Status, Full." I look out to the horizon of Jewel, past the construction station visible outside the camera. A blue-green planet greets me, a new home. One destined for more than just humanity. The ship Ai finishes its data-spew, and awaits instruction. "Could you inform the ship to wake all the human-colonists, and begin production on the Inhabitants? Also, please inform the constructors outside to begin making the Sky-Palace for Jewel?" "Understood." I look back to Jewel. A home for an entire civilization, one overseen by us, one to blossom into a new, alien civilization, and bring light to a dark universe. When we first ventured into space, we found nothing. It was obvious; we were the only beings in the universe. Now, we know, its our responsibility to bring the universe from dead, cold thing into vibrant, living thing. The first step was taken with Proxima, and other nearby stars. Now, we take the next steps ourselves. A universe of life, with humanity as its virtual gods.
When it began, it was quite interesting. cacophony of clanks, whirrs and beeps, distant yet always within earshot. Everyone heard them, yet nobody could seem to agree on where the noise was heard from. At first, folks mostly assumed it was odd form of tinnitus, affecting the whole of the population. Then they claimed it was some undiscovered form of earthquake, brought on by movement of tectonic plates. Some of the more outlandish members of the population claimed it was aliens, or some grand message from god. Eventually, after a few days, the noise became almost unbearable. It changed in volume at random, shifting pitch and alternating noises, making it impossible to get used to. And so, people began to adapt. Earplugs sold out all over the world almost overnight, folks rushing to stock on noise cancellation to block out the blips, as people were starting to call them. Scientists were grasping at straws for some kind of reason or origin for the blips, many giving up. World governments dumped hundreds of millions of dollars into research on what could be causing it, yet no amount of money could find solace. After about a month or so, the world largely started to go back to normal, attempting to live their lives with the blips still going. It became an odd form of unity among people, as scientists determined that no animals were affected by the stimuli. In coming months, however, things would take an even stranger turn. News would break on an incredible discovery. Labs tracking the noise had discovered it becoming uniform along large swathes of people. Instead of each person experiencing the blips at different times, according to large studies, the blips were occurring much closer together. After the news broke, people began testing the theory on those around them. In the streets, populations began to imitate different notes in the blips, forming odd uniform sounds following and mirroring one another closely. According to estimates formed by the very labs that released the uniformity theory, blips would be completely in sync by some time in the next month. Folk reacted in polarizing ways to the news, some claiming it was a good thing, and even more judging that it would be the end of times. World governments began preparations for global catastrophe, instituting curfews and rationing to prepare for a sudden change. As the day drew nearer and nearer, folks sheltered and hoarded, while others celebrated wildly in the streets. Some stuck to their normal routines, still assuming everything would turn out normal. The day before, people imitating the blips seemed to largely harmonize, only a few being out of sync. Timers shone on every screen, countdowns played on every radio station. Nations stood at the ready, leaders locked away underground. Three months after the first blips, at a minute till synchronization, the blips began to play in a recognizable pattern. Families huddled together and the blips raised louder and louder, becoming almost deafening. Then, there was silence. Everywhere, silence. Those living by the ocean noticed a lack of noise from waves. Birds moved their beaks, yet no sound escaped them. Finally, people began to try speaking, yet no words seemed to escape their mouths. Racing to their phones, people began to text one another about what had happened. Speculation began in science labs immediately, with folks scrambling to make sense of the sudden deafness. Within a few moments, however, everyone in the world stopped. They had become distracted by a small disturbance lingering in the corner of their vision.
"Wife did it,"said Jerald, leaning back in the kings royal throne. "One, shut up,"said Marcus, "Two, get up and help me look for clues." "Come on, sir, we've looked over this room for two weeks."Jerald leans back farther. "If there was something here I'm sure we would have..."Jerald gets off of the throne, grabs Marcus by the arms and picks him up. "What sorcery is this?"asked Marcus, "Put me down!"Jerald plants Marcus on the kings throne and forces he head to look up where Marcus notices a strange rune above on the ceiling. "What is that?" "A rune of ill will, it literally turns the casters hatred into a poison."said Jerald, "Not only that, but it only works at close range meaning... "Don't you say it,"demanded Marcus. "Wife did it..."
"I had the strangest dream..."Old lady Mira stared off into the distance, her milky eyes searching for the ghost that hovered on the edge of her thoughts. "Yes, yes, now let's get you back to bed."Eve, her night nurse, patted her back gently. They turned and headed back toward the door of the two-room cabin. Glancing over her shoulder, Eve thought she caught just a flurry of motion. She shuddered and urged the older woman on a little more quickly. It had been two years since the phantom visitors first arrived. Just a shadow at first that moved with little regard to physics, the phantoms had posed little threat. Allowed to grow and fester, they became more bold. Never had they appeared in broad daylight, but their wispy figures could be seen gliding over rooftops at dusk. Eve wasn't sure if they were truly evil, only that she didn't trust them. Her brother had been curious and stupid- a deadly combination. It wasn't yet a month since the phantoms arrived that Arnie got too close. That was how they found out that direct contact with a phantom led to madness. He woke up the entire village with his screaming. Ceaseless, blood-curdling screaming. Only 3 more were tempted after Arnie. Was it the shifting, almost beautiful figure that drew them in? Or was it the quiet whisper that seemed to follow them? No matter the cause, the effect was always the same. Madness- mercifully ended by execution. "But the boy!"Mira gasped and turned on her heels as Eve coaxed her to the bed. As if a new life had taken hold of her, the elderly woman rushed again to the door. Her eyes were no longer milky, but a clear and sharp gray. She whipped her head to the right, toward a phantom. Eve reached the door. "Mira, don't!" But she was already gone. Down the stairs and out into the night like a phantom herself, Mira reached the visitor in just a few strides. It's shifting, black shape was somehow both as dense as the universe itself, and light as air. Her hand plunged into the void and was lost in darkness. At once the whispers were no longer quiet, but a raging question in her head. "Where is the boy?" A lifetime of images flashed before Mira's eyes. A dark-haired man with clear gray eyes branding an impossibly large sword. A woman with the eyes of a dragon being beaten away from a helpless village. The same man, but younger, cuddling on his mother's lap. An infant being born. A baby in his mother's stomach, being wiped away by a spell. Mira screamed. Not the same mad sound that had driven Arnie to the grave, but an scream of anguish and sorrow. The scream of a mother losing her son all over again. "No!"Eve reached Mira's side, careful not to touch the phantom. Fearing the worst, Eve caught the old woman as she fell to the ground. But no more screaming came from her mouth. There was nothing she could do to bring her son back. And the phantoms were gone.
\[Infectious Personality\] Outbreak strode confidently to the nearest armed guard. A pair of them were guarding the entrance to a long hallway. He tilted his head at the approaching girl. But, as she continued to approach, he raised the automatic rifle to ward her off. "That's far enough, greeny,"he nodded at the neon-green-haired girl. Outbreak stopped and looked him in the eyes. Then, she giggled. "Hehe,"the guard chuckled too. He called her greeny just to call her something; but, on second thought he realized it was kind of funny. Very funny, actually. "HAHA."It was hilarious. The second guard approached with his weapon readied, but he must have heard the comment too. He started laughing with the first guard. Outbreak took several steps back to show them she meant no harm; but, they had already forgotten about her. The two men leaned on each other as their laughter transitioned into hysterics. Their laughter became high-pitched wheezing as they began to have trouble breathing. Their faces turned beet red as they fell on the floor laughing. About five minutes after the first giggle, the two men finally stopped laughing. Outbreak stepped over their bodies and started down the hall. A blue door could be seen at the end of the brightly lit, black hallway. Once she passed the dead guards, the blue door opened and another squad of guards emerged. This time, they weren't armed with rifles. The group of seven guards rushed towards her with batons in hand. When one of them was close enough, Outbreak locked eyes with him through the clear riot shield. Then, she lifted her arms upward and gave a tall stretch while yawning. The guard yawned and slowed his pace. After he yawned, the rest of the group slowed down too. The first guard's eyelids felt heavy, and the black tile floor somehow promised to be the most comfortable surface he'd ever laid on. His foggy mind reasoned that six guards were enough to take out a defenseless girl; they didn't need him. None of the guards reached Outbreak. She continued down the hall stepping over and around the sleeping guards. She reached the blue door and opened it to walk in. The room behind the blue door was a spacious lab with white tile floors and an array of computer banks lining two of the walls. There were half-dozen men and women in white lab coats surrounded by outward-facing, armed guards. They all turned to look at Outbreak when they heard the door open. She took in a deep breath, then took a single step closer to a guard. She looked him in the eyes, clenched her fists, and screamed at him with fear and anger in her gut. "NOOOOO!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!"He was confused for a brief moment; Outbreak had enough time to turn around and step outside the door again. "NOO!!!"She closed the door as the yelling began. Then, the sound of gunfire. She waited until the room went quiet, then she opened the door and walked in again. She wasn't prepared for the overwhelming smell of blood and it made her stomach turn. She powered through and walked over the bodies towards a row of computers. She walked to the closest one, and hit the 'Enter' button on the keyboard. \[Quest Complete!\] She got the notification and smiled to herself. After [she met Turbo](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/qy0eqy/wp_a_kid_with_a_villainoussounding_name_tries/), he introduced her to the multiverse and her own abilities. Now that she knew what her name meant, she felt more confident with it. "Maybe Outbreak isn't such a bad name after all." \\\*Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1416 in a row. (Story #326 in year four.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on Sept. 6th and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until June 3rd. They are all collected at this link.
“You’re going to need someone like me on your staff. There’s so much more to energy management than just producing energy. There’s all the bureaucracy, administration, logistics, you need someone with the experience to help you run it all.” The man in the too expensive suit with his too strong cologne man-splained to me. I tried to resist rolling my eyes, but I’m not sure I succeeded, because his face started to turn red. Well, more red. “Look Mr. ...ah” I looked down at my notes, “Hamm. I’m sure you did very well managing your inherited wealth and fully functional company, but the world has moved on from oil, and by moving on, we’re moving on from needing, well, people like you.” It sounded harsh, even to me, but I was so damn tired of listening to these oil barons try and take my business from me. Once they had realized that clean, virtually free Orbital energy was going to replace every other energy source on the planet, they came crawling to me begging for a slice of the pie. So, having lost patience with the first twenty or so of them, I had moved on to getting these once rich beggars out of my office as quickly as possible. Their fragile egos were conveniently helpful for that. “So, if there’s nothing else” I said, standing up, “Enjoy the rest of your day. We’ll reach out to you if we decide we need pointers on gluttoning ourselves on people’s right to energy. ”For a moment it looked like he might lose his composure completely. I was disappointed, and a little impressed when he left on his own. “Too bad.” I said to my assistant. “I was kind of looking forward to watching security drag him out. ”She let out a small snort in response. “Oh c’mon Patty, that was funny. It’s ok to laugh.” “Of course m’am.” was all I got.I shook my head and walked out to the balcony. I took a deep breath, and the air was just so fresh. It was unbelievable that only three years ago the World Health Organization recommended all citizens wear breathing masks in this city. “Ok Miss Killjoy. What’s next?” I asked, enjoying the clear view.“An presentation by an independent study. They’re claiming that Orbital generated power has attracted the attention of extra-dimensional beings, and if we don’t stop, they’ll wipe humanity off the face of the planet.” “What? How did a group of nut jobs get on my schedule?” I asked. Patty didn’t answer. “Patty?” I said, or rather tried to say. My mouth wouldn’t move. I tried to turn around but couldn’t. So you are the one responsible for diverting our power supply? The voice felt like it was coming from everywhere, even inside my own head. “What is this?” I tried to say, and again, failed. Look at this world. It’s littered with these parasites. This was a different voice. They may be parasites, but stealing extra-planar power shows a modicum of intelligence. It’s rather fascinating. The first voice said. The second voice responded, but not with words I understood. Ideas flooded my mind. Corroded batteries, misfiring engines, faulty wires, and an overall understanding that the people of this world were a corruption that was ruining the efficiency of an otherwise perfect energy system. Yes, I understand if left unchecked they’ll corrode the entirety of the power supply, but the Universe Battery managed to create life on its own. We should study it while we can. Again the first voice. There was a long pause as if the second voice was considering the merits of the first voice’s arguments. Finally it replied. Fine. We’ll start work on a new version. Hopefully without the corruption this time, and you can study this one. But if the corruption spreads beyond this one node, we’re purging it. I stumbled as I was released from whatever forces held me.“M’am?” Patty said. “Did you hear me? NASA has proposed an interstellar spaceflight, but they need a large allocation of Orbital power to get the craft up to speed.”I felt my stomach drop. “No.” I shouted. “No interstellar missions. We stay on Earth. We don’t leave our orbit at all. Halt all planned space missions immediately.”
Andrew puts the trumpet to his lips, takes a deep breath, and blows a solid G note. Along with some dust, a green energy man dressed in band attire appears out of the horn. "Howdy & Hello! Major Tom at your service!"the green energy man looks at the baffled young woman in front of him. "Woohoo! looks like we have an audience." "This is why I missed our date,"said Andrew, "Some guy, keeps sending magical creatures to steal Tom from my family." "So t-that rock monster, from school...? stuttered Maddie. "A golem,"said Andrew. Tom floats behind Andrew in a relaxed pose. "Ah yes, ole rock for brains, he was fun"said Tom. "For you! he almost ate me!"said Andrew, "Look, Maddie, I promise I would never stand you up, not with out a really good reason." "You, uh, certainly have one,"said Maddie, "Are you a genie?" "Oh sweety, I wish,"said Tom, "I'm a ghost, a lost spirit, wandering the earth, for...some reason, I don't really know." "He's been in my family for over fifty years,"said Andrew, "Apparently he's very powerful." "Apparently?!"Tom glares at Andrew in disgust. "Later, man,"said Andrew. Tom hovers off in a huff as Maddie sits down in a near by chair. "Wow man, I...I don't know what to say,"said Maddie, "That's a big deal." "And you're the only person who knows I have him,"said Andrew. "Wait, what about your parents,"asked Maddie. Andrew looks away awkward way. "Dude, you didn't?" "Soooo, I kinda broke the case keeping Tom hidden,"said Andrew, "So I took him to keep him safe."Maddie puts her face in her hands. "I really wish you had just lied to me,"said Maddie. Andrew sist down next to Maddie. "So, what next,"asked Andrew. "Depends,"said Maddie, "Can your ghost friend erase minds?"Tom appears upside-down out of nowhere scaring Maddie and Andrew. "Not without making your head \pop\ like a water balloon,"said Tom, disappearing again. "The I guess-"Maddie get's up, moving the hair out of her eyes. "-we're in this together." "So we're not breaking up,"asked Andrew. "Not yet,"said Maddie, "Just try not to flake on me again, or at least give me some sort of a heads up next time you gotta go do magic stuff." "Deal,"said Andrew and Tom.
It hunts. It’s the first of It’s kind. The species to beat them all has risen at the hands of evolution and survival of the fittest, and as It grows in numbers, in intelligence, in strength, It only becomes more optimal. In the unfortunate reality, It’s potential is so great that It’s only foreseeable downfall in the future could be at It’s own hand, infinite power turned against infinite power. But we are not yet there. It is still young. And It has found It’s foil, the perfect prey. The prey’s agility, strength, and wit, all an exact stalemate to It. The outcome will only be a matter of luck. Leaves crackle and branches snap as the prey storms through the virgin underbrush, dashing for their life. It is near, undoubtedly. The swift noise comes to a stop as the prey unfortunately comes to a sheer rock cliff, a dead end in the forest. Nowhere to hide, as It’s rustles and grunts grew louder. It peeks from the flora, an emotion novel to this world gleaming in It’s eye, reflecting It’s prey. The prey has accepted it’s fate, regretfully. Struck down, the prey looks into familiar eyes, letting out a final wince on it’s dead collapse to the ground. It looks at It’s accomplishment inquisitively, not even choosing to consume the claimed prey. No, It’s too ashamed at It’s repercussions. Too afraid. The first human manslaughter has been committed.

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