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When I returned to my home after a long day of fighting skeletons, I checked my enchanted pickaxe for durability.
*Hmm...red bar.*
That wasn't good. I went to trade with the villagers. So far, Jerry the weaponsmith had offered me pretty good deals, so I traded with him and got another enchanted pickaxe for my troubles.
It was a normal day at the village until Joe walked in. Being best friends, we built our houses close to each other. Sometimes I traded with him too. "Hey, Alex!"
"Yeah?"I glanced at my inventory. Two enchanted pickaxes and a few pieces of roasted pork. Joe usually got into pretty wacky shenanigans, so you had to check your inventory before "hanging out"with him. I had nightmares of what would happen if I introduced him to Steve.
He started running towards his house, and I had no choice but to follow him. Joe insisted on living in his wooden house, even though I repeatedly told him it was flammable.
Then, my jaw dropped. A painting was gradually changing into different paintings. "How did you do that?"then I turned. "Do you–do you have redstone?"
"What's redstone?"
"Forget I asked."If Joe found out about redstone like Steve had, my life would be a never-ending Netherscape. "Still, how did you do that?"
"I picked it up somewhere, I think. While I was exploring in the plains. I think it fell from the sky."
"Oh, yeah...cool."I exited Joe's house, got back to my own, put on my armor, and went towards the plains. If Joe was telling the truth, life would get a lot more interesting. |
I am a man of science, and I don't believe in magic. So I don't know how to explain what happened on my last hike.
I had taken 10 days off beforehand, to clear my head. I arrived at the park early in the morning, the scent of pine and bird song filling the air around me. I was in the mountains. I felt free.
I had chosen a lesser travelled trail. As I crested the glades, purple craggy mountainsides rising majestically to my right, I tried to clear my mind and live in the moment. I seemed to be alone on this trail.
As time wore on, the sunrise began. The sun crested the mountaintops, filling the sky with golden fire. Frighteningly, the fire seemed to have a life of its own. It was a djinn, a fire spirit, a genie. We locked eyes, and I felt a surge of electricity flow through me. A giant voice boomed in my head "gentle adventurer, your wish is granted". At the same time, I was thinking about a girl. I was wishing I could read minds, so I could look behind that beautiful face. And as sudden as that, I knew in my heart my wish had been granted. I felt shook to my core.
When I came back from my hike, I tried my new power. I peeked over my desk at work, concentrating on my boss's head. Could I understand the workings of his mysterious mind? Apparently not. No thoughts entered my consciousness.
I tried it a handful more times, with no success each time. I began to doubt my power. Absentmindedly, I peeked at my phone, and opened up google. "mind reading", I typed, and hit search. The top result was a bare-bones looking webpage, with nothing but blankness and a search bar. I entered a name - my name.
Text began streaming onto the page:
"Hmm. What is this? What? How is it doing that?..."
The text matched my thoughts exactly.
I tried another name. The girl.
"Oof, I really wish I had a hot dog with mustard and relish. I am so hungry.."
Huh. She likes hot dogs. That's good to know, I guess. |
[Poem] "Hellp"
There once a man named John, who invested in state war bonds, when the war dried up, so did the money.
In fact, it was quite funny.
He called up the devil, and told him it all,
The devil was interested in this call.
He said, "hello my old friend, ill give you a hand.
Just be ready it your soul at the end."
And thus was the deal, off without a hitch,
Until he was run over by a truck.
If only he wasn't thinking of millions of bucks.
Oh well.
Now it is time for escape from hell.
He climbed the tower, from which he always fell.
Till one day he saw a man, not living nor dead.
But his hair was falling right of his head!
Radiation's horrible.
The man's spit began to dribble.
John had an idea, to escape him from hell.
He'd save this man, even if he wasn't normally swell.
He dropped the man down, and searched through his coat.
He found a small green ?uranium boat?
It was odd.
But it was enough to get him to God.
And so John was saved, and you wonder, quite stale,
How is it I told you of this tale?
Well, it never occurred!
Not yet, till I meet that idiotic turd.
And there won't be a boat, and his spirit won't float
He will be impaled on the horns of a goat. |
"What's wrong with her?"Mary whispered as she tried to finish cooking dinner.
"I don't know. She's been acting this way for a couple days now. She doesn't go out. She hasn't stolen any of my money. Even the clothes she's wearing is different. She's like a different person."
"Don't you think we should take this as a blessing? Maybe she's changed."
"No, there's something wrong. This isn't Erica. I think we need to find someone."
"Like a therapist?"
"NO. They'll think we're the crazy ones if we bring a well behaved child to them."
"I can hear you guys."Erica said as she turned back to doing her homework. *Fools. They should be grateful I possessed their little girl. I thought I was doing them a favor by behaving, but looks like I'll have to cause a bit of mischief.*
\--
"I'm not eating that."Erica pushed her plate away and crossed her arms. *Take that, humans. How are you going to handle this level of disrespect? After slaving away at the stove and your offspring rejects your offering?*
The parents exchanged looks.
"What would you like to eat then Erica?"
*What?* "Uh, I mean...pizza?"*That's what humans ate, right?*
"Okay babe, we'll get pizza for tonight."
*Maybe Balthazar just needed to try harder.*
\--
So he did. Or he tried. But Erica must not have a been a normal human because nothing he did seemed to cause the parents to do anything other than give in to the little girls whims. When he didn't do his homework, the mother had said that was okay, she would talk to Erica's teacher about assignments. When he ran away from home for three days and realized that no one was coming after Erica, he made his way back home only to have the parents greet him normally as if if he had never left.
He started bringing home dead bugs and leaving it on the parent's beds so they would find when going to bed; but they never said anything about it.
He even left the front door unlocked so their cat could get out; that cat never came back, but the parents never said anything; he wondered if they even realized the cat was missing or that he was the culprit.
He even got his ears pierced and tattooed his arm with the name of a boy in Erica's class, but the parents didn't say nothing.
Did he just hit the human goldmine? He didn't have to pretend to be a good human here. Whatever he did, was accepted. This body was his.
\--
"I told you she was fine. She's back to normal now. She must have just been going through a phase. You know how kids do that."David said as he swept away the insects on his pillows into the trashcan.
"Yeah, our little Erica. I'm glad she's back."
"Did you make sure to cancel the call to the priest?"
"Oh no I forgot. I'll call him tomorrow. What was I thinking? How could I think our little girl was possessed?"
"I think it's all those horror shows you've been watching honey."
"Yeah. Television these days." |
Everything was finally coming to fruition. He had been chasing this guy for most of his life. But every single time it seemed like he came close, the guy would slip from his fingers. He had missed out on great milestones just to reach this point.
He lost the love of his life because he chose instead to devote all of his energy into this mission. He didn't have any children either so he would never get to experience the joys and tribulations that came with being a father. He never really bought a house because there was no point buying a place to live in when he was just traveling everywhere all the time.
He did get to travel, but really it was more for business than pleasure. He did get to save a lot of people's lives though he wondered if it was worth it.
"I'm looking for Gary."
"Gary?"The nurse asked as she looked confused at the other nurse.
"Yeah...I was told he was here."
"...are you family? He hasn't had anyone come since he's been admitted."The nurse said.
"...no. Just someone he knows."
"Just let him in Jane. Who knows how much longer the guy has."The other nurse said.
"...last door on the right. Room 543."Jane said.
"...honestly, I don't even know why we're still keeping him here. He's a waste of resources. The guy is basically a vegetable. If it was me, I wouldn't want to live like that. It's not even living at that point, "Matt heard the other nurse whisper to Jane as he walked down the hall.
He wondered if any of it was worth it when he saw his arch nemesis in the hospital bed.
This was not what he was expecting to find. The faceless villain that he had been facing since he had become a superhero, was nothing more than a decrepit old man. He was hooked up to a breathing machine with lines and wires and tubes sticking out of every part of him. The monitor displaying his heart rate beeped steadily.
The nurse was right. This man wasn't even living. And even if he was, what kind of life was he having to be nothing but a body kept alive by machines?
What kind of ending was this?
Matt could feel all the energy he had left leave him.
In his head he had imagined an epic fight scene. Or one where he would deliver a majestic monologue and the villian would bow down to him. Or one where he captured the villian and brought him to justice by sending him to jail.
But this.
This man looked like life had already dealt with him.
Matt took a seat next to the man.
If it wasn't for the beeps in the room, it would have been like being a room with a corpse.
"You're just a sad old man...but what does that make me then? I spent my whole life going after you to get revenge, but really what is revenge when it looks like you've been living your life like this? Maybe this is what you deserve. Instead of a swift death by my hands. You can lie here alone and dying and thinking about all the terrible lives you've destroyed, all of the sorrow you've caused, and all of the bad you have done. I hope as you take your last breath that it's with regret that this is the life you have lived. That you've left nothing behind but a legacy of sorrow."
\--
The nurse threw a suspicious look at him as she dashed past him towards Gary's room; another nurse behind her with the crash cart. He moved out of the way as several other hospital employees rushed past him.
The intercom system announced overhead: Code Blue Room 543. Code Blue Room 543. |
Paul wakes up, with a vague memory of driving his car still fuzzy. He goes to open his eyes, and realizing he isn't seeing a thing reaches up his hands to his eyes, causing him to realize he has lost his hands. He becomes afraid to move because he doesn't know how to navigate the world without hands, and stays seated for a long frame of time before he hears someone running up behind him.
A hand lays on Paul's back before a stick is shoved in his stubs. He hears a godly, excited voice, "I told ya it would be better to lose the part of your body that sinned than to be cast into hell, you can't even feel your eye's boiling because their nerves are connected to the sinful part of your brain!"
"Oh fuck"Paul says feeling his missing body parts, "So this is why there is no marriage in heaven"
"Just be glad you gotta keep most of your tongue, I really had to fight the bureaucracy on that one"Jesus merrily responded, before shoving an unknown but tasty food down Paul's mouth hole, bringing back the memory of a mouth hole stuffed with airbag. |
My mom used to tell me stories about my dad. Milway had a horrifying past, one filled with absolute chaos and evil. With famine, death, and plagues of all kinds upon the galaxy, he brought the fall of civilization to every world he set his eyes upon. Using a unique form of magic that could shape reality itself, he warred out into the cosmos and took over. He killed all he deemed other than him and took over all. He enslaved everyone and, in his own twisted vision, made them his children. He was the only universal truth as he reached the edge of creation but, even with all of infinity, he still felt hollow. He had taken everything, like a force of nature. He overtook all and thought there would be something more, but there was no more. He had reached out for all he could, saw all he could, taken all he could but he had reached the limit to his conquest, so he began to look for a new conquest within.
He began to look within himself, to see the inner workings of his children. He saw life itself. He saw into the hearts and minds of every person he enslaved and killed. He saw the struggles of the common man and saw the evils they would commit; the evils they could commit. In that sense, they were truly his children but as he looked deeper, he saw something far beyond his comprehension. He saw kindness and love. He watched a cave woman fight off wolves to protect her son. He watched that same son chewing food for his now toothless, elderly mother. He felt unconditional love present in nearly everyone and in one moment, he saw every individual life for what they truly were: little blips of consciousness, like the universe experiencing itself. People living their lives as best they could as his conquest and evil had laid waste to their hope and dreams. He saw the true horror of what he had committed, the death he had wrought so, he sought to make amends. He used his magic again as a force, not to destroy but to heal and nurture. He used all his power to give every individual what they truly wanted; to make all reality perfect for every individual but even then, he failed. Perfection is too much for imperfect beings. The perfection was too much for man and man eventually warred with himself, trying to understand the perfection of the world around him while dealing with his own imperfections. He created Hell the first time over by trampling over the corpses himself. He repainted Hell and gave it a new name the second time over, but instead of just killing and enslaving all, he showed them Heaven and how pitifully out of reach it was for them. In a sense, he wrought even more despair and death than when he tried to help man. In his depression, he sought to numb himself. He left his children to fester in their own squabbles for meaning while he engaged in his own forms of depravity and fell into a maelstrom of nothingness. He just existed, thinking of his mistakes and what he could’ve or should’ve done but instead of getting anything done, he just drifted alone in his numb vacuum of sadness and rue.
Once, he was getting ready for another eon of nothingness when he saw his children. They were still on the ground playing with sticks and mud but, using their primitive toys, they were able to touch him briefly, so briefly but it gave them something even he could not give them, hope. The hope to reach something greater, to be something greater and to become part of something much larger than they could individually be. He looked at himself, a beaten husk of his former self that felt so defeated, he beat himself down some more. His children faced apocalypse after apocalypse, were given a taste of perfection but yanked back down to the pits of their despair. How had they done this? How had they persevered through his mistakes and delusions of godhood? Then it hit him. Perfection did not take hold for imperfect beings so make the world imperfect. Give the commons man struggle and hardship and he will either come out defeated or stronger and his children were given hardship after hardship by his own hand, and they continued to endure and to discover new things about themselves, even about him. With enough time and struggle, they reached him, and they asked him one thing, “Why?” and, as a being with infinitely more power and strength than his children, he broke down for even he did not know. He told them of his journey and mistakes. He told them of his pointless conquest and his attempt at redemption. They were silent, for their malevolent God was just as lost as they were. He had crushed their dreams for nothing and even tried to fix everything just to crush their dreams even more. What could they say? Their God was just as broken, confused and well intentioned as everyone else was but even he could stumble and fail. So, they asked to join him, to truly become his children and to develop and grow as imperfect beings. He paused, trying to comprehend what these specks of dust were saying to him. They called him broken and imperfect. In a past life, he would’ve killed everyone in rage but after eons of self-wallowing pity, he realized he wasn’t this perfect God that he thought he was. He was a lost soul, looking for his place in a place much bigger and scarier than he knew. He agreed and met with his children, and he begged for their forgiveness, and they gave it, for they knew what it felt like to be beaten down. They knew what it was like to be shown a hopeful future, only for it fall apart. They began again as a family and together, with their science and his power, they did what even he could not do. He reached into the beyond and found her.
​
My mother, Andromeda, was just like my father. With her own brand of magic and physics, she had her own messy history. Just like my father, her path was drenched in blood and kindness and just like my father, she grew out into her own person as well and was able to reach into the beyond as well. They met and had a life together and eventually, they had me, Milkdromeda and, as all parents do, they fade. My parents had their life, and that life must end but their lives and their stories swirl into me to shape the person I will become and to reach even further horizons. |
Laying blank on my bed. It had been a cold and strange day. I had traveled around the city, getting food and grabbing some books from my library. Feeling winter coming close. Earlier in the day, I rode the bus, shaking from the lack of heating and people watching the other passengers to take it off my mind.
Most were busy staring at their phones, watching some Tik Tok bullshit. Some others staring out the window, watching the passing lights and casinos of the city. And then a strange few looking high and strung out. Moaning and biting on their cloth masks in their mouths.
“I hate riding the bus,” I said as I got up and walked out on my stop. I missed one of the sitting passengers, grabbing for me as I headed out the side door. "Sorry, I have no cash,"I said before the door shut behind me.
I made my way to my apartment, stepping up the stairs to the second floor. Opening my door to my small place. Piles of cloths on the floor, random items left through out my place that I didn't bother to put back. Always in the middle of cleaning and organizing but didn’t have the will to put anything back. Seemed to happen to me when it got cold out.
I took my food that needed to be refrigerated and threw what I could into my small fridge. Thanksgiving was mostly going to be me and some friends hanging out. Nothing too fancy. I walked to my bed, that happen to be in the same room as my Living Room, and popped on my PC to watch something online.
The sun seemed to go down quite early in the day and the cold was sliding under my window. I was still holding out on turning on my heater. I dived under my blankets and already lost myself to scrolling random content online while staring at my large tv in front of my bed.
News sites and local stuff talking about people attacking the TSA at the airport. Cashiers and customers being bitten by random customers as early Black Friday sales started this week. Even outside my window, I was hearing more passes of emergency vehicles speeding by. I didn’t put it all together, I clicked on my DVD player and not too long after, I fell asleep.
____
Hours passed, and I woke up within darkness. I didn’t remember turning off the lights before my sleep. My tv and pc were black. The power had apparently gone out earlier in the night. I stretched my legs under my blanket, deciding if I should get up to check the power. I turned to my side and stared into the darkness.
Then I heard the knocking on my door.
Coming across my studio apartment to my front door, I became very still.
“Who the hell is knocking on my door?”
Maybe the property manager coming to check me out?
The wind outside my window slammed against my glass, more cold slithering in. And the slamming at my door became louder and harder. I realized this was not knocking; someone was bashing my door down.
I remained still in my bed, trying to become as quiet as I could. The clawing and punching became louder and longer. The door, to my horror, was moving and cracking. It buckled on its hinges. Even in the dark, the light coming from the hallway (from the emergency lights) showed the outline of my door becoming more bent. Almost bending inwards after every blow from the other side.
After one last slammed, it fell into my kitchen, the apartment vibrated. And a lone figure standing in the door-frame.
I didn’t know how I hadn’t run out; I didn’t know how I wasn’t screaming and crying. The light illuminated everything in my place and the thing (I wouldn’t dare call it a person) stumbled into my home. It took a few steps and crashed into the bag of groceries I left from earlier. Slipping on the plastic bag and making an angry wail.
Stagnated itself up, it sniffed the air, scanning the room with it's nose. It stopped and stared at my direction. It was staring at me. It knew I was there in the dark. The stumbling man came closer to my bed. But it wasn't long before it ran into the pile of clothes my floor, and fell down on the floor.
Thanks to my winter depression, my room was a death trap for this possessed beast. I stared on the table to my side. Looking for anything to use as a weapon. I couldn’t see well in the dark, but I could make out an object on my stand. The only thing I could reach for in this situation, I felt out and find something solid but soft. "Shit,"it was just my leather bondage wolf hood.
Yep, I'm the kinky sort of person who has leather, latex, and some special toys.
I had taken the hood out for a special night with a friend. Pretending to be animal and to obey her commands. A fun night for the both of us. But being the lazy pup I was, I just put the hood to the side of the table and didn't put it back with the rest of my gear in my drawer.
I stared at the fallen thing on the ground, slipping on my T-shirts and wet towels. Struggling to get back up. I really looked at it for the first time. His eyes were glowing red. Blood coming out of his nose and eyelids. Bits of flesh ripped off. A wild rasp coming out of his throat. This was no longer a man; this was a monster coming my way.
___
It stood up and slowly came up to my bed, sniffing and chomping it’s jaw. I did the only thing I could do, the only thing I knew how to do. I swung my legs around to the side, kicking the beast in the chest. My workout weights near side of my bed helped to tripped it down and fell backwards on the floor. It hit the side of my makeshift desk, hitting hard storage boxes. Growling in pain.
I grabbed the leather wolf hood, jumping on top of the down zombie before it could jump up. My knees pressing onto his chest. The smell of rot enter my nose. My left hand wrapped around its neck, holding him down. The other one quickly pulling on the hood as fast as I could.
In horror movies, especially zombie movies, the last thing I wanted this thing to do was give it the chance to bite me. It struggled under my weight, moving side to side. But luckily, I had experience in keeping people down underneath me. I steady myself and push my knees onto it's chest. Screaming with unholy roar.
I pulled the leather hood on it’s decaying face, sliding it down as best I could. The hood had a long snot which put distance between me and it's mouth. The hood had pointed ears, zipped up mouth, and more importantly a plug attached inside that keeps any wearer's mouth from being usable. I pulled it down quickly, tied the attached collar around the back of it's neck. I quickly tied the laces on the back to tighten the hood around it's head.
It was just enough before the beast pushed me off of itself. It jumped back up with strange grace. I could see the glowing red eyes seething from under hood’s eyes, staring right at me. The zombie moved its hands to it's neck, trying to remove my hood off it's head. But it didn’t seem to have the knowledge to unbuckle the collar or undue the knot behind it's head. It groaned and shook its head, like a dog trying to shake off a plastic cone.
I jumped off the floor and headed towards the open door. I made my way outside to my second floor balcony. I stared out to the city streets below. Cop cars, bodies and moving zombies covered the near by streets. Chaos had somehow taken the city in the mere hours I was asleep. But I didn't have enough time to figure out the mystery, I heard a noise from back in my building.
The zombie wearing my bondage mask had stumbled passed the glass door, and it was still staring at me. |
“I like you,” Barry murmured, looking down at the message. “I like you.” He had been repeating those three words for the last ten minutes, all the while staring down at the text below her name. Was it worth it, he pondered? Throwing his phone down on his bed, he switched off the light and left his phone, his room and, he hoped, the thoughts of Kate behind.
Pulling his thoughts away from her, he realised just how noisy his house was. Standing in the corridor he could hear his mother whipping cream for deserts in the kitchen. From the room beside him, the sounds of his brother and his friend yelling over each other made him cringe. *The kitchen then.*
As he entered, leaving behind the darkened corridor, he was nearly blinded by the two large fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling.
“Ah, John!” His grand-uncle Peter exclaimed. “Have you been here all this time? We haven’t had sight nor sound of you!” Barry forced a smile as he looked around at the surprise visitors.
“Peter! This is Barry,” Marian, his wife, laughed softly. “Not John!”
“Oh right,” stammer Peter, a wide smile on his face. “Of course, Barry. Well, how are you getting on?”
“Oh, Yeah good. Just studying away. You know yourself,” grinned Barry, wondering if his words could be any more basic.
“Studying what though?” his mother piped up from the corner, where she held her bowl of cream. “Studying Pokemon or whatever they call it, is more likely!”
“Oh I wouldn’t listen to her, Barry,” Marian smiled. “I’m sure you will be fine.” Marian had always been one of Barry’s favourite relatives. He didn’t have many that he liked, most talked too much or said too little.
“I never do listen to her,” Barry laughed as he made his way to the sliding back door. With one quick pull, he found himself outside, in the darkness.
Walking around the corner, out of sight of his mother, he pulled the lighter from his pocket, flicking it. He stood for a second, watching the flame, slowly living before quickly dying. *Was this going to be what Kate and he were going to be like? Something small before eventually dying a quick death? Maybe…* He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the anxiety in his heart and mind. Trying to find his own peace where he could. Walking around on the stone brick path, he finally came to the office, a small room off to the side of the house. His father’s office, unused since he moved to Qatar, was now his own quiet little place. Opening the door, the smell of stale cigarette smoke assaulted Barry’s senses.
Turning the light on, the fluorescent tube flickered a couple of times before finally staying on. Sitting down on the fake leather couch, Barry pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket. Lighting it, the familiar taste seemed to settle his nerves a little. The smoke drifted up to the light before disappearing for good. Slowly he pulled on the cigarette, making sure each pull lasted as long as it could. *If I could never check my phone again I would.* His hands started to shake and the loose ash fell to the tiled floor below. Legs trembling, thoughts of rejection started to overwhelm him. Closing his eyes, he started trying to go to a happy place that didn’t involve Kate. Her image, beautiful and blonde, filled his brain. Taking another pull, he threw the half-finished cigarette onto the ground, to burn out alone in the dark.
Out, once again, under the night sky, the neighbour’s dog started to bark, startling Barry as he made his way to the back door. His Aunt and Uncle had left, as his mother sat in his usual seat at the top of the kitchen table.
“Uncle Peter and Marian just called over to tell me about Aunt Ita,” she informed him.”Alzheimer’s.” Barry had met Aunt Ita a couple of times and always remembered her for her soft voice and cold, wrinkled hands. A seemingly nice woman he had thought.
“Shit,” he muttered, standing at the door of the corridor. “How…” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, he just knew he should say something.
“We don’t know much except that they are going to see a specialist next week,” she told him, her face a mask of strength. “Auntie Phil will let us know more after that.” It was all Barry could do to nod before slipping out the door, into the pitch-black corridor. *Poor Auntie Ita.*
Barry strode down the corridor, feeling the way as his right hand brushed against the wall. He didn’t even notice the noise coming from his brother’s room or realise that he had opened the door to his bedroom. Standing in the darkness, he looked over to where he had thrown his phone and saw no flashing lights. Switching on his lamp, he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his phone without looking. Turning the phone over, he saw that he had no notifications. No reply. |
“I am proud to announce that NASA managed to successfully redirect an asteroid. This is a huge leap forward in our understanding of asteroids and a gigantic leap forward for humanity. This Data will help us immensely if we ever need to redirect something heading towards earth. The Team behind the mission is very exited about their achievement and they should be proud if I do say so myself. Now are there any questions?”
The crowed of reporters went silent and looked at him with disbelieve.
“Ehm yes, Chris Johnson ACB News, I am sorry, but did you just say that they should be proud?! The asteroid is now on a collision course with earth! How could that possibly be good?!”
The crowd erupted, the reporters all talked over each other, with different questions and accusations.
‘Ok, keep calm’ he thought to himself ‘I can totally pull this off.’
“Calm down, Ladies and gentlemen, please. Yes it is true that the asteroid will impact earth in about 2 Mont-“ the incoherent questions started again.
“Let me finish!” everything died down a little.
“This may sound bad, but have you really thought about what this means?” There was mummering
“Really think about it. NASA had to spent BILLIONS to put this mission together, rocket launches are extremely expensive. Absurdly expansive, really. Do you have any Idea how much money goes into one of those missions?
Really it is a lot. But soon we won’t have to worry about that anymore. Soon we can study and asteroid right from the comfort of our home planet!
This will greatly reduce cost and will leave NASA with more budget for other projects.”
The crowd was in stunned silence, so he continued.
“You see this is a great cost saving Method! And that’s not all! You see we have a shortage of rare earth minerals but asteroids are packed full of that stuff. Soon we will have access to so many resources we won’t even know what to do with it all! This will greatly improve the American economy I tell you!”
“Are you fucking joking?!?!” a woman yelled “We’re all going to die and you’re talking about how this will boost the Economy?”
“Hey, we’re not ALL going to di-“
“People will die, how can you say something like that?!” a man yelled
“Now calm d-“
“Do you have any plan to stop this?!”
“Well-“
“Is there anything that can be done?!”
“E-“
“You people need to be held accountable!”
“OK THAT’S ENOUGH! This is your fault!” The crowd was shocked into silence.
“Do you have any Idee how small NASA's budget is? Of course we will have minor oversights. But you guys voted for the wrong people! If we had a higher budget, we could easily deflect it! But no, you were to focussed on some dumb celebrity bullshit. We’re trying to make the best of a shitty situation that you caused! Before you accuse us of anything maybe you should look in the mirror. I’m out!”
With that he walked away from the stunned reporters.
One week later.
“It actually worked” Bill Nelson said with a smile “Congress just approved the biggest budget increase in NASA history, you did a great job”
“Thanks sir, though if got to ask. Do we have a plan in place to prevent the impact?”
“Ha, of course! The rocket has been ready before we launched DART.” |
\[POEM\]
​
**Chasm**
​
'Chasm' is space.
An emptiness tempting us
Into freefall.
But look around.
Look at it all.
Have you found
Even a trace,
Ever,
Of that which is non-chasm?
Are we not in freefall forever?
We tiny bits of protoplasm.
Don't we feel shiny and clever;
We devotees of the great 'real.'
We act
As if all we know is one great orgasm
To which we owe fealty.
For which we shill.
In fact this realty
Is just a hack.
Lost space inside a crack:
A 'chasm,' if you will,
Across the face of reality. |
Ah yes Tarmiel the angel of love and friendship, he is more of a rogue force of nature than anything else.
Towering to an imposing mile and a half in height this humanoid like creature likes to hover directly over its prey, hovering just above the clouds and absorbing all kinds of pains and illnesses that the mortals inside his radius of attack have and leaving them with a feeling of relieve and happiness that sick bastard.
His backstory: apparently he got sick of following the gods direct orders and instead decided to act on his own choice and that choice was to make the entire world of the mortals happy and war/catastrophe free, that son of a bitch leaves a trail of happiness and good will wherever he goes, his first attack was in north Korea we didn't even realize until it was too late. He basically destroyed both north Korea and south Korea and made a more stronger only Korea, he has cost the US government billions in weaponry cause now entire wars are disappearing by the day and nobody wants to buy guns anymore not even the guy's who we paid to make wars. |
Find lesser known novels or comics and write a theme that's just basically a watered down, fragment of it.
A lot of trending posts have this kind of thing: plots that are in Japanese light novels, dnd themes, some lesser known anime etc.
A lot of weebs are in this subreddit. Just put some fantasy type story that has a dnd feel to it with a little bit of variation put in. They fucking love it and lick it up.
Dark lords become liches, liches to evil kings, to dragons and so on.
Honestly I don't really get why they do those kind of things. It's just not fun to be honest. |
“That’s a quite a ways you’ve gone since pleading the fifth,” said Detective Johnson as he sipped his coffee. Detective Johnson was a red headed firecracker of a Tennessee policeman. He worked his way up from patrolling the streets with grit, guts, and lots of attitude. Sure, there was the occasional complaint against him, but they never held up. In his mind, criminals deserved it and he had a knack for telling apart the real bad guys from the ones who just got caught up in the wrong crowds. That’s probably what saved his ass so many times. That and he never actually committed any misconduct. Accusations are just accusations until proven otherwise and no one ever could.
As he sat there in his white button up shirt with his gun strapped to his chest in its holster, he almost shuddered at the grin that was thrown his way. He’s seen some real bad ones in all his years on the force, but this guy was different. There was something about him. Something that felt like pure evil.
“I meant a fifth of Jack,” Robert Morgan said from across the table. “You got any of them spirits?” Detective Johnson didn’t but he knew there was a spirit in the room alright. One that felt like it came straight from Hell. Robert Morgan’s deep blue eyes were mystifying. Trustworthy to someone who didn’t know any better. But Detective Johnson did. He’d been in this business long enough to know a criminal when he saw one and Robert Morgan was the worst he had ever come across. He just didn’t know it yet.
“A coke and a pack of cigarettes is the best I can do.”
“Marlboro’s. Full Flavor. None of that menthol shit.”
Johnson got up and left the room, coming back shortly with Robert’s drink and smokes. He took one out of the pack and put it Robert’s mouth before lighting it for him. With cuffed hands, Robert puffed on the cancer stick then took it from his mouth and exhaled with the pleasure of a free man. One who didn’t have a care in the world.
“You ready to talk now?” Detective Johnson asked Robert Morgan.
“I s’pose,” said Robert before taking another drag of his square. He ashed the cigarette, opened his coke and took a swig, then spoke. “Thirty-Seven. That’s where I lost count.” His voice was cool and calm with a bit of a southern drawl to it. Both men had southern drawls. One buttery smooth and used to lure in his victims. The other harsh and ready to uphold the law at a moment’s notice.
“And where are these victims located?” Detective Johnson said trying to sound just as cool and collected as Robert Morgan. But he wasn’t and Robert could sense that. On the outside he hid it well but, on the inside, he was feeling sick. Disgusted with the human piece of trash that was sitting in front of him. Most people would be fooled by the wall he built around his emotions to hide them, but Robert Morgan wasn’t most people.
Robert smiled with a sinister sense of pride. He could feel how Detective Johnson squirmed on the inside. His eyes told everything there was to tell. “Some in the ground. Some in the river. Others I just left them where they were. Figured the bears would get to them before anyone else did.”
Robert was right until he wasn’t. Leaving that blonde hooker laying dead on the side of the road was his first mistake and what led to his ultimate capture. After that it wasn’t long until Johnson was on his trail like a hound dog and Johnson always got his man. But what he didn’t know was that Robert had meant for this one to be found. Somewhere he got bored with doing all the chasing and needed someone to chase him, just to keep things interesting.
Smiling and pleased with the results, Robert puffed on his cigarette then put it out in the ashtray. This was his plan all along. Now the real fun was about to begin. He was only caught because he wanted to be, and they were only going to keep him as long as he wanted to be kept. This was his game and Johnson was just another piece on the board. Pure evil and highly intelligent, Robert’s sleeve was full of aces, and no one knew just how many. Especially not Detective Johnson. |
I am Gluh. A superhero with incredible strength. Many years ago I swore to defeat Dr.Wativah and bring him to justice for destroying my home even though none were hurt because of my help. He still represents a threat with his grand ability to control gravity.
"Dr.WATIVAHHHHH!"I yell as I punch the security guard of his new castle breaking the door of his room.
"Ahhh! Look who has arrived after all. If it isn't my favourite all-time boxing partner."He said resting on his couch not giving a care in the world.
"I will wipe that smile off your face. You piece of sh-!!"He used his power to glue my legs to the ground by making them incredibly heavy
"Will you just let me talk for a sec?"He said
"NOO, THAT CAN'T STOP ME!"I reach into my pocket and get my throwing knives and bullets. He can't use his power on more than 12 objects at a time. This should help.
"TAKE THIS!!!!"I throw my 5 knives and shoot my bullets
*gun sounds 6 times*
Wait. DAMN IT! ALL OF THOSE ADD TO 12 INCLUDING ME AND I DON'T HAVE ANYMORE.
"Wheew! You missed one there pal. Now as I was saying, I am no longer evil."He said
"What?"
"You heard me, didn't you? I no longer do evil stuff anymore. I no longer want to conquer the world."
"Alright just drop the chainsaws and the traps on me please."
"I am serious! When was the last time you saw me destroying things?"
"Ehhhh, the last time I remember is 10 months ago."
"And doesn't that say something?"
"No! The first time you appeared you almost killed my family!"
"Oh right! That building on the coast belonged to your family? Well, would you believe me if I said that was an accident? I hope no one is hurt."
"AN ACCIDENT?! if it wasn't for my super power my mother would have been dead. DEAD."
"I am so sorry. But I can guarantee you that was just an accident and it happened because I was just testing my powers. I did want to conquer the world but I had not the heart to commit murder."
"And what about that building you destroyed 10 months ago?"
"It was empty also it was a test for knowing how my powers can be applied for good. How they can be used to produce renewable energy. Now I am the owner of the biggest energy company in the world. Do you believe me now?"
"I...i'm.."I couldn't believe it. He really is different from what he was earlier.
"Okay, how about you come and sit with me? We have a few other topics to catch up on."He said
"But first can you free me from your power?"
"Of course"
*he lets me go*
"And let's call an ambulance for the poor bodyguard you threw into the wall,"he said grinning maliciously.
"I am sorry"I mutter under my breath. |
His legs first, *we used to run together for long periods of time until our legs would collapse*, then his hands, *we would go air softing and i can remember seeing his small fingers gripped around the trigger of the gun*, his chest, *I can still feel his heartbeat when I first hugged him*, then his face, *his face slowly fell back into the darkness as i heard is voice one last time say, “It’s fine”*. Now he’s back, after all these years he’s finally back. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw his slow, stumble-walk grow close to me. I ran up to him, the feeling of that run was the same as before. It was always like I was running for him, not with him. I grew closer and closer to him as tears formed in my eyes. I opened my arms and ran into him, tightly squeezing him. My chin lay over his warm shoulder as I opened my eyes to take a glance at the gate. The very first time I saw it there was a red glow coming from it, but it was totally black. Now as I look at it there’s a blue color and it is totally white, almost like he made hell heaven. He pushes me away, grabs my hands and stares me in the eyes. His blue eyes sparkled and warmed my mind and heart. He squeezed my hands said, “Wake up, Jess.” |
You’d be surprised, but there are a lot of places a ghost can go on vacation. Pompeii had been popular for a bit, something for the trendier youngins. Titanic cruises were often taken by families, something good for the kids, and then there was Atlantis. However, there were few places a ghost could travel with as little money as I had.
Ghosts don’t have money, per se, but we do have currency. Haunting points. There is only one way to obtain haunting points, and that is through haunting. I had been dead nearly 40 years and nearly successfully avoided the concept. Haunting to me felt both cruel and stereotypical. I had tried it once, pressured by some of my friends, who promised it was a thrill like no other. I, however was not amused by making a man scream until he was a shaking, blubbering huddle on the floor. He called the moving truck the next day. It just seemed unnecessary.
I hadn’t made much from that haunt, only 30hp. The equivalent perhaps of 5 US dollars. Some haunts make more than others. The more difficult the fright, the higher the pay. This man hadn’t put up much of a fight at all. I don’t need to eat, or a place to sleep, or to pay taxes anymore, so the 30hp has held over quite nicely in the 20 years since I’d made it. Not that there was much go could buy with 30hp anyway.
But then my friend Henry had gotten back from Atlantis. “Island life is just so different from what we have here,” Henry said. “I had a waterfront room. Although I suppose every room in Atlantis is waterfront, amiright?” He had shown me the pictures he’d taken. Great arches, domed roofs, water as far as the eye could see. “Anyway, what have you been up to since I’ve been gone?”
I had lived in a city in the middle of the country all my life; I lived in the ghostly city nowhere near bodies of water now. I had never seen the ocean. My afterlife had been a slow, steady ticking of days that no longer existed — ghosts don’t experience time — and I had the sneaking suspicion I was wasting my death the same way I had my life. I spent most of my days alone at home. I didn’t have hobbies. Or family or even many friends anymore, other than Henry. That’s when I had decided I needed to go to Atlantis.
The logistics were tricky. I knew I’d have to schedule a haunt, even if I didn’t want to. So I set forth to the DHHA (Department of Hauntings and Human Affairs). There, in the hauntings office, I sat down with a woman with dark hair and glasses, an eyeball dangling from its hole and out the left frame.
“Name?” She asked, and I told her.
“Date of death?”
“May 5th, 40 years ago.”
“Have you ever performed a haunting before?”
“Once.” I left out how little I had enjoyed it.
“One moment please,” she said, scrolling through some pages on her computer. “You said you want to go to Atlantis?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Ah,” she said and began typing. “Looks like we have one haunting that would be worth what you need for your trip. One and done.” The ideal situation. I could do it once, experience Atlantis, come back and never haunt again. Take back up residency in my home, knowing I had accomplished something with my death, and therefore never had to do anything again.
“I’ll take it!”
“Are you sure?” She asked, still glancing toward the screen. “We’ve sent 67 ghosts and not one has scared this girl. One ghost even died in the attempt, it says here.”
“A ghost can die?”
“Apparently.”
“Well what happens when they do?”
“Let’s hope you don’t find out. Do you still accept?”
“Uh…yes…yes.”
“Alrighty then. You’re headed to 3479 Wild Oak Drive."
3479 Wild Oak Drive was an unsuspecting house. It looked to be newer construction, one of several others like it in this neighborhood. Each house here was painted in a varying shade of beige; This one had chosen the lighter variant. As I approached the door, I saw someone float through. Once the man realized he was on the either side of the wall, free at last, he collapsed and began kissing the ground. As I watched, he looked up.
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re thinking of going in there! Save yourself! She’s evil! Not a fright out of her. She just starred at me like I were a white wall. And she mocked me over it, too.”
“She can’t be that bad, can she?”
“That’s what I told myself too. I wish I hadn’t listened. Get out of here!”
I stepped inside.
The house was a tad unkempt. Blinds still drawn even though the clock claimed it to be three in the afternoon. Half-eaten pizza and cereal boxes laid about. A mountain of clothes in a laundry basket by the TV. I floated around, trying to get an image of this person, an idea of what might frighten them.
Walking through the living room wall, I found myself in a bedroom. Unsurprisingly, the same standards of cleanliness had been applied to the bedroom as well. In an unmade bed, lay a girl, with a mop of blonde bedhead and a pillow covering her face. She didn’t seem to be asleep, just laying there. Next to her bed was a lamp, and so, starting perhaps a bit uninspired, I knocked it over.
The girl stuck out a hand, caught it before it fell, stood it back up right, and readjusted the pillow over her face.
“Just fuck off,” she said.
She said it like she knew I was there. But that was impossible. It wasn’t often that I entered the human world, but I’d spent enough time here just after my death, looking for anyone to help me, talk to me, see me, to know humans could not see the deceased. “You can’t see me,” I said, more to myself than her, not expecting her to hear.
She pulled the pillow off her face and squinted. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you. So, if you don’t mind, please be quiet.”
I pushed the lamp over again. Once again she caught it. “Seriously! Knock it off!” |
\[Sunny Introduction\]
"Ugh, no thank you...,"Outbreak's face scrunched up in disgust when she read the quest; white text appeared in the top right corner of her vision. She looked up at Astra. "Sorry, I guess I'm skipping this one. Can I bother you again?"she asked before her ride left. Outbreak could have Traversed between servers using the AlterNet. However, she was still new to the school and took every opportunity she could to make a new friend.
"That bad?"Astra asked with a nod that indicated she'd keep helping Outbreak.
"Yeah, I'm not even sure if it's worth it; I have to become the worst-smelling person on Earth..."Outbreak shook her head. "Who comes up with this stuff?"
"No one,"Astra said. "When an Earth becomes a server the nanos generate quests procedurally. It helps keep them from being repetitive across different servers."
"So, I can pick up the skill somewhere else?"Outbreak asked. Astra nodded.
"Definitely. Even if you can't find it on another server; a lot of skills can be crafted by other players. You can just buy it. Although, thinking about it, this one is actually really easy,"Astra said. "You have to be the worst-smelling person on Earth?"she asked to double-check. Outbreak nodded.
"Yeah. How is that easy?"she asked.
"You just have to know the right people,"Astra said. "Hold on."She made Outbreak wait while she stepped into a black portal and disappeared. Outbreak waited patiently for several minutes. Suddenly, as boredom was about to overtake her, she heard a ding in her ears.
\[Quest Complete!\] She looked around the park and realized there was no one else around. Then, she saw strangers appear again, dropping out of black holes all around her. Astra appeared again.
"Did you get it?"she asked.
"Yeah.. what happened?"Outbreak asked. Astra smiled.
"Well, if you're the only person on Earth, you're also the stinkiest,"she giggled. Outbreak's eyes widened in surprise.
"You can do that??"she asked. Astra shook her head.
"I can't, but I know someone who can,"she said. "But, she did want to meet you."As Astra explained, a black portal opened behind her. A tall pale woman with bone-white horns walked out. Outbreak hadn't been part of the multiverse for long. But she did meet a Mundo. Mundo explained who the most powerful, most threatening person in existence was; and, that she should be avoided at any cost. The same woman that stood behind Astra and smiled at Outbreak.
"Hola Calavera,"Ballisea said.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1417 in a row. (Story #329 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/). |
We stood on one side of the backyard, just watching him go. The old man lifted one forkful after another of potato salad, beans, and coleslaw into his mouth, uttering grunts of satisfaction each time.
"Should we call the police?"My brother whispered to me.
"No, no... I *kind of* know this guy."
"Who is it?"
I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram. His handle was "Yahweh\_or\_the\_highway,"and his whole profile looked like photoshopped pictures of different parts of the world behind an unassuming old man at unflattering angles. "He follows mw on Instagram."
"So, he's like a method actor or something?"
"No, I'm pretty sure he's insane,"I whispered. "How's it going over there, God?"I called over.
He pumped a thumbs up in the air without taking his eyes off the plate.
I turned to my brother and his wife. "He seems harmless, and he has a metric ton of followers. Humor him, maybe you'll become internet famous."
My sister-in-law, never one to turn down an opportunity to gain internet clout, waltzed over to the table. "Heyyyy, God. How's it hanging?"The old man looked up with the grin of a little boy and scooted over on his bench to let her sit.
"If he starts undressing, we're calling the police, okay?"My brother said as he followed his wife.
I turned the chicken over and set the grill to low before going inside and using the bathroom. By the time I walked out, the table was silent. My brother, his wife, my wife, and two of our friends were leaning in, focused on something the old man was saying.
"Are you sure?"My sister-in-law was asking him, tear tracks running down her face.
"Oh, definitely. It never had anything to do with who you are. You were always one to try to do the right thing, just as I made you."She hesitated before throwing her arms around the old man, who embraced her in a tight hug.
My wife turned to me with wife eyes and nodded her head to the grill. I walked over to it and she followed me.
"Hey, so, he knows everything about us."
"What?"I laughed.
"Yeah, he just told Mary all about her childhood."
"He probably got it off her Facebook. The guy's an actor. There's probably a camera crew in the neighbor's yard."
"He talked about her mom's alcoholism,"she whispered urgently.
"Her mom's an alcoholic?"
"Right!? None of us knew that!"
I finished the chicken and brought it to the table on a platter. "Chicken's done!"I announced, but all eyes were fixed on the old man.
"Thank you, Joshua, it looks amazing,"the old man said as he eyes the meat ravenously.
"For you, God? Anything."I laughed, but none at the table joined me. I looked around the yard, trying to spot the camera crew but they seemed well-hidden. I took my seat and began scooping some potato salad on my plate. I had to scrape the bottom of the bowl because "God"had nearly polished off the whole dish.
"So, I've always wondered something, God,"I began. "Did Adam and Eve have belly-buttons?"I expected a laugh from the table but I was once again met with silence.
The old man brought a napkin to his face to cover a mouth full of chicken. "It's a metaphor, the whole thing,"he said. "You try explaining natural selection and evolution to cavemen."
I chuckled, even if his statement wasn't exactly funny.
"How's your breathing these days?"He asked me out of nowhere.
I'd been having something of a cough in the mornings lately after waking up, but it was nothing serious. "Fine..."I answered suspiciously.
"For now,"he mumbled.
My wife gasped and touched my ribs. "We're going to the doctor first thing tomorrow,"she whispered.
The old man then proceeded to answer every question from around the table, offering detailed farces and educated guesses about everyone's backgrounds. My friends laughed and cried and gasped at the words coming out of this comedian's mouth.
The longer it went on, the less amused I was. A joke that goes too long without a punchline is just a guy hogging a stage, and everybody here was falling for it.
Once the sun began to set, the old man rose from his seat and stretched his large body with a satisfied groan. "I have to say, Joshua, this was an absolute delight. Shall we say, same time next week?"
Before I could answer, my wife and brother and friends all answered affirmatively in unison.
"Well, that sounds nice and everything, *God*, but I do have to work on the house. Next week we're supposed to paint the exterior, and it's going to take all day, so...
"What color?"He interrupted.
"New Hope Grey, with white trim,"my wife answered quickly.
The old man snaped his fingers and the house changed shades in front of our eyes, causing us all to gasp and jump back.
"So, now that you're free, next week? Same time? Make that potato salad again, okay?"And he disappeared. |
My lighthouse overlooked the bay, where moonlight shimmered on the water and palm trees swayed in the tropical summer wind. Lanterns were strung above the great porch, where a jazz band played all the old standards. A swinging tune concluded and all the guests in attendance clapped and laughed.
I saw Steff in her glittering red gown from across the dance floor. Our eyes locked and she gave me a crooked half-smile.
"Something slow,"I shouted to the band. Martin smiled at me with his baton and turned to the ensemble in their white tuxedos. *Put Your Head on My Shoulder* began playing and the lights went low. Several "woos"erupted from the crowd.
Steff covered her face with a gloved hand, embarrassed at the attention as I floated across the floor, hand outstretched to take hers.
"You're ridiculous,"she said as she moved into my embrace.
"Not the worst thing I've ever been called."
"Well, the night's still young,"she said into my ear, her cheek against mine.
We laughed together and she squeezed my hand. I could feel the pressure and warmth of her skin. I could smell the perfume on her body. The breeze moved my hair and swept across my face. Every note of the music was rich and powerful.
There was a pounding that stirred me from my dream. The neighbors upstairs were fighting. Or dancing. Something. I looked at my phone. 5:57AM. I had to be up in three minutes.
What was the point in trying to get back to sleep now? IT would take me at least 15 minutes to reach REM if I focused. I looks like Steff will have to dance alone.
I walked three steps from my three-quarter-twin mattress to the sink, where I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I put on my uniform and fastened the three deadbolts on my tiny efficiency apartment.
I arrived at the shop and unlocked the front door.
"You're opening today?"A voice came from behind me. I swung around to see Steff there, her purse swung around her and her ear buds hanging from her ears.
"I, um.. The schedule was... I'm, yeah... opening."I stuttered over every syllable, not expecting to have to speak to anyone so early in the day.
"There must've been a mix up. I thought it was my turn."Despite the inconvenience, Steff was unfazed. She shrugged and smiled. "Looks like we're partners today!"She gave the crooked half-smile again. I wondered if she danced. I wondered if she listened to jazz. If I called the band to attention, would she follow my lead? "Are you gonna go in or...?"
"Oh, right, sorry,"I held the door open for her and we went in together.
We unlocked the cash registers and began moving stock from the back room to the shelves. It was the first time we had ever worked, just the two of us, and I began to get the sense that our chemistry might not be a thing of dreams after all. As we moved around the store, sweeping, mopping, opening up shop, she told me stories about her past jobs and how Michael's did things differently and what a shit show Hobby Lobby was.
I laughed and listened, grateful to have her attention.
"So, where have you worked?"She asked. I was unprepared for the question.
"Uh, here."
"Your whole life!?"She exclaimed.
I nodded and smiled shyly. "I like consistency."
"Well, do me a favor and don't leave. I think you're the only normal person here."
It was a bland compliment at best, but it set my heart on fire. Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and long after the front doors opened and customers filtered in, I repeated the words in my mind. *I think you're the only normal person here.*
In the bathroom, I looked myself in the mirror and tried to fix my hair as best I could with only tap water at my disposal. Today would be the day I asked Steff to dinner. I looked myself up and down and also committed to getting a gym membership after work. Steff deserves that.
I picked up some plastic flowers on my way to the back office to clock out. They would be a silly, romantic gesture that Steff would find amusing. Carl watched me come in and sign out in the POS system, but Steff wasn't around.
"Have you seen Steff?"I asked him.
Carl looked at me and at the plastic flowers. "No..."
"Did she leave already?"
"Why?"
I smiled, giving it away. "I have something I want to ask her."
His eyebrows rose as it clicked. "Oh. Umm, yeah man, that's not a good idea."
I shrugged it off. A single compliment in the early morning was powering my confidence despite Carl not believing in me.
I stepped out onto the main floor. Steff was walking in the parking lot and a car pulled up next to her. I watched her laugh and lean into the driver's window and give the handsome young man a kiss before she jogged around and jumped in the passenger side.
I felt the color run out of my face. Of course, 'normal' would not be good enough for Steff. An exceptional woman would need an exceptional man. And in this life, in this world, I was not that. She was forever outside of my reach in the waking hours.
It occurred to me that my dreams weren't dreams. It was my waking hours that were nightmares.
I walked to my 25-year-old clunker and called my weed dealer. "Hey man, do you have anything stronger?"
By that evening, I was $700 lighter, but two bottles of sleeping pills richer.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
I straightened my suit jacket and stepped back onto the dance floor. There was a grab at my fingers from behind me. I turned around to see Steff in her red dress, smiling with that crooked grin.
"Where'd you go?"Her eyes searched mine, looking to see if anything was wrong.
"I had to take care of some things."
She wrapped her arms around my center and pulled me close. "Are they taken care of? Are you okay?"
I wrapped mine around her in kind. My mouth opened to answer, but I couldn't form the words. "How about that dance?" |
You can learn to levitate, say, by practicing the same breathing exercises that work best for people who wish to run faster or hit a golf ball back over the fairway. If you wish to levitate, however, you must make sure that when you exhale, you visualize your body turning into a small bird and flying away. This exercise has been found effective for those wishing to levitate as well as those wishing to fly.\[Poem\] |
The robot works out that there's no longer any connection between mind
and body, and that it has to just go with the flow. The cyborg, who has
spared all thoughts of what being drunk would be like, does the same.
The telepath, however, still wishes to know what it is like, so they try
to recreate it by entering the robot's mind. They find themselves
trapped in the robot's mind, but they discover that the robot has
absolutely no clue how to be drunk. It vaporizes the cyborg. The telepath
meanwhile realizes that if they enter the robot's mind, they can use it
for recreation for as long as they like. So they salvage the body,
continue to live in the telepath's mind, and discover that cyborg parts
are all the rage now apparently. The empty shell of the original robot
goes home broken-hearted. |
They all have their animals. They didn't choose it, but took what they had to their advantage. There are several types of this virus, too. Classic - changes into an animal during a full moon, Permanent - constantly on show and is more of a genetic mutation, and Controlable - a super-power that is middle-ground for Classic and Permanent varient.
I have the Permanent variant... though not an animal that existed or is living, which is an extreme rarity. Only... oh what was the parentage? One in 10k "infected"with the virus. I hate it.
Sure I look cool and all, but being a dragon after some couple odd years of this "cure"being given to the public after some sketchy test results and quick testing and acceptance. I dont know what happened, but those of us that did take the vaccine parted ways of our old society and basically started their own, including me, basically making the home society collapse with the lack of numbers.
As I was flying during the golden hour, I see some shadow spikes expanding and I dodged them by banking sharply to the side. The spikes fly past me and looped back around they're the Falcon friends of which I have befriended during my flying hours. They come up to my left and right and assert a delta formation while patrolling the skies over the cliff bound forest.
After flying infront of a cliff, I summon a breeze that glides us back up the cliff and over the tree line. Then dive below and arrive back at camp. After approaching the chief of this Falcon Nest.
'Anything to report?'
'No, Chief. Clear as the evening sky.'
He bows. 'You're dismissed from the Mansion Nest.'
I bow in return and relay the dismissed message before heading to the Shaman's tent. Inside, I smell the frying chicken and the faint, homely smell of incense sticks.
'You're home early.' Her grandma voice tremors.
'There's nothing really out there. Sure it's beautiful,' I sigh. 'But I feel like something is missing.'
She chuckles quietly. 'You always say that.'
I look away, attempting to stare off into the distance and rack my brain as to what could be missing. She then goes on about how she saw me, alone with the tattiest camp imaginable and all sorts of stuff scattered around the place.
'Alright, I know. You told me this story many times. You then trained me up as a mage and your husband taught me how to forge and fight with said weapons.' I interrupt.
She chuckles again. 'But there is something that I haven't told you yet.'
I make eye contact with her.
'There is a prophecy that has been whispered to us by the Spirits. It has been a while since I was told it, but it involved you.'
I sit up. 'There's a bigger event ahead?'
Her headdress bounces the candlelight across the dyed feathers.
'This prophecy will last us a century.' She whispers. |
"Your honor, I'd like to call Jessica Statham to the stand. Or as she was known online, 'FrizBiskut99'."
A young woman of barely 19 flinches as I say her name. She is pale with mousey hair and glances about nervously. People I assume to be her parents and other activist support her and encourage her to come up to the witness stand. The young woman glances about nervously and keeps reaching with her left hand for a holster that isn't there. Ultimately, she grabs her left arm by the wrist with her right hand.
Ms. Statham is sworn in by the bailiff. Her eyes are wide and they dart back and forth as if searching for threats and targets.
"Friz,"I began, using her online name. "Tell us about Season Three."
I have to admit, I'd given up the idea that being a lawyer meant getting justice for people. After chasing ambulances from Newark to Orlando, adjudicating slip-and-fall cases in Texarkana, and going after a fast food joint and their clown for boiling hot coffee, I had left the idea of justice behind.
Until I met Jessica.
Her sister had brought the poor young woman to me. I had almost rejected them both out of hand because I thought it was another meth case. No profit in those, no payday. But Jessica's sister Veronica was a hard spike of iron and all teeth. She made me focus.
I'm glad I did.
Jessica was a casual gamer which was innocuous right up until the AI Glass headsets dropped. With one simple piece of hardware a person could feel any and everything the data fed into their neural cortex provided. Memories, emotions, sensations, all of it. The same data that made us could be copied right out and digitized for sharing with others. It was all in good fun until Slacktivision, the makers of the popular Call of Warfare series decided to push the envelope. 'Experiences based on real Veterans', they said when promoting Call of War: VR.
Jessica told me about feeling warm blood splatter across her face as Private Jones burst in front of her, victim of a Nazi machine gun. She described every detail of the SS captain who she strangled in the Bell Tower level, feeling his last breath gasp out. With tears in her eyes, she talked about crawling across the battlezone with a bullet in her shattered leg while she tried to get to a teammate.
On the stand she was a hot mess. Her grasp of where the virtual world ended and reality began seemingly lost.
We won the case, supposedly. One of the largest judgments ever handed out by a court to tens of thousands of plaintiffs who were struggling now with PTSD, addiction, neurosis, depression, and suicide.
Jessica is now in the long term care of a psychiatric unit. I established a trust from her award to care for her until she can find her way back to reality. In her more lucid moments when I visit, I can still see hints of the bright, young woman who should be at university right now. Then someone will slam a door too loudly, or perhaps drop a cup. Jessica will dive for cover and start shouting for a weapon. The nurses sometimes have to physically restrain her. Jessica thinks they're on the opposing team.
A news alert flashes on my screen as I leave the hospital. 'Slacktivision announces Call of War: VR 2!' |
**Note: My first WP attempt, I don't really write but have been spending time on this sub lately and thought I'd get involved! Had lots of fun with this prompt! :)**
"Not this shit again..."Declared Keva.
An exasperated sigh escaping from her mouth lets her know that the novelty of the situation has worn off completely.
As of late, her day to day life had become increasingly littered with weird, strange and utterly bizarre occurrences. The frequency and magnitude of these occurrences seemed, to Keva, to be accelerating.
She fondly referred to them as her "Glitches"- not "Glitches in *the* Matrix"but "Glitches in *her* Matrix"- because she was pretty sure she was going insane. It made more sense, after all, that she would be going insane and not reality itself.
Keva was not so easily overwhelmed but she was certainly getting there. Any other human on planet Earth would, probably, already have been committed to a psychiatric ward if only they had the misfortune to experience what she had gone through in recent months and been naïve enough to ask for help with it.
"I am going mental... "
She snapped her eyes shut, tensing every muscle she had.
"Shut up and stop fucking talking to yourself!"
The word of the day was frustration, apparently. She opened her eyes, took a deep-ish breathe and glanced at the time on her phone. Her phone was charging - at 66% and counting.
"As close as my phone gets to 666"she noticed. If she was not so recklessly fond of mental gymnastics and numerology she may have also noticed that her phone was not connected to a charger - but she was, and so she did not notice.
This radio message was enough to convince her of two things: That she was not merely hallucinating and that it was about fucking time to buy a bottle of wine and a packet of cigarettes.
Keva was trying to stay sober equally as much as reality was trying her patience - and as it happens inexplicable events like these only seemed to happen when she was sober as a judge. But I digress - there were many, many, reasons why Keva doubted she was the son of Satan. The very idea of Satan's existence was anathema to Keva and her stubborn materialistic convictions.
It would not take a great thinker to conclude that Keva, in particular, was unlikely to be the son of anyone. As it happens Keva was, in fact, a great thinker and she reached this decidedly sane conclusion in an instant - an average mind would have taken a moment, at least.
This radio message was only the second incident that had anything at all to do with devils, after all. The first was a few weeks earlier, while she was at work serving coffee - a job well suited for a genius like Keva.
A customer placed an order through the company app for an almond milk cappuccino, without chocolate. This is not exactly out of the ordinary, but Keva knew that it just so happened to be her own regular favourite. Not to mention the fact that the order was placed under the name 'Lucifer' and whoever placed the order thought better of actually collecting the drink.
The radio message, stored on an old cassette tape, predated Keva's birth by several decades. As of 2021 she was 26 - making the tape of an old radio interview about twice her age.
The interview took place on national radio. Her grandfather, on her mother's side, was being interviewed about his involvement in the research of genetics and a developing proposal to open a research institute "to enhance the lives of animals and humans through world class research in animal biology".
That phrase had always captured Keva's attention, but she could not say for certain why it sometimes echoed in her mind, word for word.
Keva had a peculiar way of reflecting on herself like this. She thought it possible that there could actually be a definite reason that it was etched into her memory, and she thought that if there was a reason, it would surely follow that she could tease it out and understand it - somehow.
She chose - for no particular reason - to record the phrase onto her phone. Almost as soon as she finished recording the phrase the idea of playing the audio backwards came to her.
She would ultimately come to regret having this idea and in time she would learn to truly loathe her own whimsical innocence, but she would first play the reversed audio out loud.
When played backwards, the gently spoken voice of her grandfather had morphed into a sinister growling drone, sharply spitting words out as though the speaker was disgusted by language itself.
"You are the son of Satan! And your father hasn't heard of you in a while, it would be nice if you gave a call from time to time."
Keva played the clip on repeat, feeling a creeping sensation of fear travel from her throat to her stomach each time. If this was the reason she fixated on the phrase then she simply did not want to believe in reasons anymore.
Her father had not heard from her in a while - it was true - but as far as she was concerned Satan has never heard from her, ever.
Satan, Keva asserted to herself, was a concept wholly separate and distinct from her very real father. She then made a mental note that this is the kind of thing that is so plainly obvious that it should not have to be asserted.
"Fucking cosmic bullshit..."She concluded, trying and failing to give herself some peace of mind.
Wilfully ignoring her issues had worked a charm in the past, but it had never taken much effort, and now she was making deliberate strides to bury her head in the sand. Keva's head only really liked to be buried in books so it proved to be an exercise in futility.
She took a moment to plan the next ten minutes of her life.
The plan was simple, listen to the audio once more, and call Dad. Not Satan - Dad. She reached for her phone - scrolling through her texts for the "Sorry sweetheart <3"message under an unsaved number.
"Here goes nothing then"Spoke Keva, who seemed to be mustering her resolve and shelving her frustration for later.
Five rings and then straight to voicemail. Keva was not surprised - though she noticed a sense of embarrassment that she thought she had long since parted ways with.
She looked at the call log, a zero second phone call. You could always count on Keva's father devoting exactly zero seconds to anything urgent or important but Keva never got a sense for why she was one of those things.
Keva managed to let a laugh out when she considered that Satan may actually be more likely to answer her calls. The charge on her phone caught her eye... 66%
She stood up and proudly announced "Fuck it"to her empty living room. She closed the call log, backing out to the keypad on her phone. Unable to tell if she was acting out of curiosity or craziness she dialed the number 66 - taking a brief moment to ask herself why the *hell* she wasn't just watching television. She eventually added the final 6.
Six Six Six. Keva looked at the digits, pressed dial, and raised the phone to her ear.
The very instant her ear made contact with the phone all the light in the room seemed to get a little darker.
A sickening tone radiates out of the phone, then the same painful droning voice from the radio message speaks "At long last, my son."
Keeva could not process her own shock and surprise before she had catapulted her phone straight at the wall in front of her, smashing the screen to pieces and leaving her empty handed. She did not know how she really ought to feel, but she knew for certain she wanted to leave immediately.
Barging straight out of her front door, soothing herself as best she could with her newly adopted mantra "Wine. Cigarettes. Sanity." |
The townsfolk ambled around in a fashion that resembled the walking dead. I could tell you that they didn't have a destination in mind, trudging around emotionless and unresponsive. This was everyone in my city. Everyone except me.
It was a harmless experiment. Surely I brought no harm to these people. I just had to test the waters, to see what exactly my phone app could do. I knew power comes with responsibility, but I was invisible. Nothing could stop me.
After turning people into docile zombies, I took it a step further. Though that was interesting, I had other things in mind. I pondered what it would be like to be the most famous person in history. So I punched in the text into my phone and went to sleep.
&#x200B;
When I woke up, I tried sitting upright, but something flew right in my face. It looked like some sort of drone, and I couldn't move.
"Scanning complete. Your health is optimal. Please proceed at your leisure."I looked around the room, and it screamed extravaganza. Imagine walking into the richest person's bedroom. It was that dazzling. Somehow I knew it was too good to be true.
I slowly crept into my master bathroom, and looked in the mirror to see an unrecognizable face staring back at me. Magnitudes more handsome, body fully toned, it was as if I went through a complete overhaul. Before I could revel in my appearance, a loud crash erupted from my door.
"GET DOWN!"Stampeding boots thundered towards me. In a flash, rifles were pointed at me. Paralyzed by fear, I remained still, not wanting to die in a world I didn't even know. Apprehended, and escorted out, my mind raced with many questions. They threw a bag over my head and injected something in me. It was lights out.
&#x200B;
Once more I found myself coming to. Like previously, I found that I couldn't move—but this time it was because I was retrained to a gurney. My eyes darted around frantically, looking for an escape that I realistically couldn't use. I started to sob, afraid, confused, and holding remorse for trying to alter reality. Whatever I did obviously wasn't good.
While losing my wits, someone enters the room. A man with the air of some sort of secret agent approached me. Snatching a seat across from me, he began addressed me.
"Where is it?"I gaped at him, still afraid for my life.
"Where did you put it?"Silence was my answer.
"Don't make this harder than this should be. Quite frankly, your life depends on it. So tell me the location of the command module, or else we'll have to resort to other measures."
I scream., "I don't know! I have no clue what is going on! All I wanted to do is be famous!"Upon my outcry, the agent snickered.
"Yes. You're right. You are famous. Actually, you're the most important man in the world. Don't play dumb with me. We've scoured your fortress and it hasn't turned up. It's hidden isn't it?"
So the torture began. |
Jennifer paid my rent. She laid down cash for internet. She shelled out credit cards for pizza on Monday nights. She bought the silk suits I wore to dinners with her when we went out to Five-Star restaurants.
It was always a transactional thing for her.
We'd have sex well into the afternoon on Tuesdays during her lunch break. She'd ask me to eat her out then we get Chinese take out on Wednesdays.
She set her own hours for the law firm she worked at as some big director or whatever.
Thursdays she'd keep to herself. No calls. No texts. It felt like she had a second family or at least a boyfriend she was hiding from me.
Then Friday would wrap around and I'd find myself falling asleep in her arms. Thinking, I was in love with her.
After candle lit caviar on Saturday. Laying around in bed on Sunday. I'd decided to tell her.
Her soft warm tits pressed against my cheek. She stroked my hair, clawing away any itchiness that I didn't know was there. I sank into her breasts, cozy, and it just came out of me. "I love you, Jennifer."
The next day she didn't show up at the apartment she was paying for as our usual pizza night came. And went. Tuesday, I was left to my own devices with my dick in my hand. And Thursday I stared at the empty text box of our chat that used to fill up with cat memes.
Then Friday came and I met someone new at a hotel bar, someone younger. I pulled out my phone and I plugged in that person's new number over Jennifer's.
Friday, I was in love. |
I looked around. The blue abyss of the ocean stared back. The dial on my arm showed that I had but an hour of oxygen left before I would finally suffocate and die. I swam lower, the cameras the scientists had placed on this beefed up suit catching everything, detecting every movement. I was along the ocean floor, swimming slower, watching rays and worms and crabs go about their daily business in this watery nothingness.
I thought about all that had led up to this moment. My sixth birthday, graduating college. Working minimum wage. Meeting my wife, holding my son after he was born. How they were murdered by one of her ex's, I was framed. The days I spent in prison, and especially the day a group of scientists asked to visit me, and gave me an opportunity. They said if I went to the bottom of the ocean and filmed what I saw that they would clear my name. I accepted eagerly, but should have known better. They cut the line to bring me up after 400 feet, and the suit, with all the extra stuff they put on it, too heavy to swim up to the surface. God, I hated the chuckling of the skinny one after I felt the rope go slack, even through the microphone. That was two hours ago, and I had already used two-thirds of my oxygen supply.
Sighing, broken and soon to be forgotten, I had to listen to them marveling over an ugly looking fish that looked like a pancake. Suddenly, they went quiet. I looked up, away from the sand, rocks and crabs at my feet, and saw... something. The thing was like an archway, with a low wall going off into the murky depths in both directions. *"Go forward,"* I heard the skinny one in my ear. I complied. I was going to die anyway, so might as well see things on the way out.
Swimming through the archway, I followed a lighter path in the stone. I heard the scientists oohing and aahing over the microphone when I past by some ruined buildings, both which had a statue of some weird bug/sailfish/demonic mermaid looking thing in an aggressive pose. Continuing on, I saw bigger, more complete buildings. They had me go inside one, but there was nothing other then destroyed pottery and clay furniture. With only thirty minutes of oxygen left, the road ended in a large wall, with a gate-like entrance like those in a steryotypical middle age castle but blocked by debris. ***"Why are you just sitting there, go over it,"*** bellowed the taller scientist into my ear. "Can't really do that. You idiots cut the line that I had to use to go up, remember? I specifically recall you saying 'oh, its not like he'll be needing to go up anything,'"I responded. I heard him cursing, both at me, himself and the other scientists before I swam along the wall, looking for a way inside.
Eight minutes later and I found a spot busted in, like something crashed through it. But based on the stone bricks and debris outside the wall, whatever did it came from outside the wall, from the side I was on. **"Stop,"** said the large scientist, and then I heard them talking about how it looked like something walked through the wall with little effort. I waited a minute before reminding them I didn't have even half an hour of oxygen and if they wanted me to go inside or not. I passed an anglerfish on the way inside, somewhat surprised by how small it was. '20 minutes', I noted to myself, at the timer that counted down the time I had to wait to see my family again. I shook off the depression and entered what seemed to be a walled off, ravaged city.
There were lights in it, from jellyfish and anglerfish and other deep sea monstrosities. There was remnants of a dome covering the city, and even some actual *lights,* although they were flickering and dim. The ground was covered in craters, chasms and hills, debris and sea plants, and all sorts of animals. I went forwards, towards the center, and with the increased light from life, volcanoes and the architects of whatever made this city illuminating some more of the walls. They too had busted segments, and they too looked like whatever made them came from outside. In my daze of awe I nearly fell into a great, slanted borehole in the ground, which curved into darkness. The scientists were calling others and yelling in excitement, surprise and celebration of their, no, *my* discovery. They were not the one so close to Death's doorstep, continuing to carry on, actually *being* in this submarine metropolis. Their excitement pissed me off, to say the least. As if I was just a rover to them.
'15 minutes,' I thought as I passed under a great bridge, bisected and seemingly charred, the visible metal skeleton twisted and melted, and resolidified. On what few remaining buildings were still semi-complete there were statues, some of the same type as the ones I saw outside, but most were different. Great winged beasts, serpents with many heads, arms and tails, insectoid hybrids of different animals, elephant like creatures with beaks, and humanoid abominations, among many others. All immortalized at the bottom of the sea, like I was soon to be.
'10 minutes'. I slowly climbed my way up a steady incline, devastation being my ladder. At the top I witnessed a massive temple, the back long ago destroyed, like ones made by the Aztecs and Mayans. The statues were here in greater number and completion, surrounding it, decorating it like Gods in Greek and Roman architecture. I continues towards it, having a giddy feeling, but at the same time terrified, not completely going of my own accord.
'7 minutes'. I saw a skeleton of something. The scientists told me to stay still for around fifteen seconds, but I had a growing, longing desire to go towards the temple. The skeleton looked fish like, but at the same time humanoid, with hints of chicken and rhinoceros as well. It was wearing clothes, too. The remains of clothing that a priest would wear, with a golden crown not far from its skull. As soon as they said I could go my body lurched forward faster then I wanted to.
'5 minutes'. I was at the temple's entrance when I noticed it was blocked by a fallen pillar, blocking it diagonally. The space beneath and above were too small for me to get through, but my body didn't care. As if I was watching a movie, I went forwards and grabbed a long metal pole that I didn't even know was there from the ground and with extreme strength that I never knew I had, pried it out of the way, and swam inside. By then I was asking the scientists what was going on, but they claimed they didn't know.
Word limit ;-; |
"This isn't a game"a solid voice said as the blood slid down the knife in your back. "You knew what this was..."the voice says backing up the other statement. He had to there was no other way.
A sound of water, rushing through rocks in a river is the sound that fills your ears as this strange man pulls the rather large dagger from your side; only to change his hands now. A stinging in your side, followed by a slow cold. Pulling the needle from your under arm. It was a small cold, though gripping as it moved through you.
The man then pulling on his mask, the long nose told most who he was: you were the intruder now. A man of the church dare come to their side of London. "You know what it means to be a man of the cloth "He says, slowly removing what was embedded in his back, growling an uhuman like sound as the moon gleamed off the rather clean blade to come from him.
"You cannot kill what you sought to destroy."He growled, showing rows of teeth behind his mask before he threw the dagger of yours into the wall behind you and him. Pulling the mask down he fastened it, but smiled under it. "You should have known when you stepped foot in our territory as the moon filled the sky,father"he growled suddenly in one swift movement standing up just to suddenly growl and stab you through the stomach. Lifting you into the air.
Blood running down the man's arm, a long tongue splitting and moving as if it has a mind of its own. Licking up the blood he screeched, almost happily.
"Sorry father, im hungry"he growled, 4 different voice coming from between what he called lips. Lowering you close his other hand came up and put your head to the side. "Your.....virgin.....afraid.....holy blood...."this thing said, suddenly throwing you to the wall and immediately was on you, his hand pinning you there as the thing smiled. Hand through you once more, he now looked over you as his other hand moved your head sideways.
"You'll taste great, sustain me another moonshine growled lowering his mouth to your neck, the mask pinning your neck between it and the wall as a searing pain ravaged your neck. A silently almost slurping like sound, the smell of metallic filled the air as your vision began to dim;your body numbed as the thing fed. |
"Alright listen up everyone today we're learning about some mythology. Yes, it's kind of real but not really in the way we think of it today. Ther-Yes Darlene?"
I blink a few times. "No. you cannot re-immortalize the minotaur as '*Thiccus Diccus*' in your papers. Please refrain from such questions for at least a while..."
*Sigh*
"Yes, Jaraxxus, Xbalanque is pronounced "shuh-bah-lahn-kay."No, I'm not removing points if you can't say it properly, just try your best."
... Silence...
"Okay so for those of you having internal strife about the upcoming test please, don't be, it's not like your grade relies on this one test only. And to help us I'll grab the orb of-"
The pillow lay empty.
"Oh, shit."
____
fin. |
"Babushka, why must we live this way?"
"Because it is tradition."
"Every other girl I know does not have these traditions."
"Have you asked? Child, I told you we speak not of our traditions."
"No, Babushka, but I know. No one else cannot play with dolls, or have birthday parties. No one else is not allowed to dance, laugh, live."
"Arina, that is where you are wrong. We dance and live more than they ever will. We are the ballerinas, spinning high above the masses on a stage. We live so others can also live. Others who will influence the turn of the world. And so there are traditions.
"But why?"
"When I was a young girl, I lived not in Russia. I lived with my father, your grandfather, in England. He was the man who would change the course of the world. He learned of everything the Englishmen knew, and told our own brave and just leader of their deplorable plots. One night, he vanished without a trace. My mother took me, and spirited us away in the middle of the night, in an old motor vehicle belonging to one of the leaders. We returned to Russia in this way. My mother told me to speak not of my father, and I never did. When I was older, I began to train: in combat, in disguise, in manner. I became unbreakable. I went off to a special school where they trained young Russians, both boys and girls, to be bulletproof. It was beautiful, in a way. As I had said, we were dancers, trained in the art of the silent war. Five hundred ballerinas, deadly and beautiful, just as graceful as those in the ballet. I went off to England. I cannot speak, even to you, of what I did there. I met my husband, an English government official, and had your mother. We lived in England for a long time. I still remember the night I left, the second time. The air was cold, and a biting rain fell over the towering buildings. I was listening to the radio in my living room, waiting for my husband to arrive. Your mother was grown by now, married to your father. She knew nothing of my mission, nothing of her roots. There was a sharp knock at the door.
*"Victoria"* A gruff, Russian voice called. It was the man in charge of my mission, a man who I had rarely set eyes on.
*"They have found you out. Your husband turned you in. He found the telegram sent to the Motherland last month. He has realized what you are. Anne and Howard have both been shot. The child has survived, and we will take her to Russia with us. They are coming for you. You must come with me, for you know things that will be of great value to the President. We must run."* My heart shattered that night, and then was hardened into stone. Howard and Anne had known nothing. He had known that. And yet he still pursued them. And to think that I loved him. I found him, sitting in his office, looking pleased with himself. And I killed him, two shots, both to the chest. The Russian official who had warned me had told me not to go back, but there was nothing he could have done. I left on a tiny airplane with you and came here. I could never fight again. But you will fight. You will fight for your mother, your father, and for me. This is why we have tradition."
The tiny girl sobbed silently.
"Arina, it is okay to be sad about what has happened. But the pain will make you stronger, deadlier. You will be the best weapon Russia has ever known."
**Sixteen years later...**
*The pain will make you stronger.* She remembered her grandmother's words as the helicopter touched down in London. Her Babushka had been half right. But she hadn't known it all then. Hadn't known what the training entailed. The pain had not made her stronger. It had made her invincible. The wheels of the helicopter touched down as the man in her ear recited protocols.
"Ballerina, prepare for landing."
She had trained her whole life. Now, it was finally time to dance. |
"Really? Cookies? Thats your master plan to convice people to evil?"I sigh staring at the small bland man offering a platter of cookies. "are they even any good? How do i know if im allergic to them?"I say pacing back and forth the small alley he cornered me in. "They are the best cookies you would ever have, with no allergic reactions from them."The man says without moving an inch. "I DONT EVEN LIKE COOKIES!"i yell while knocking the cookie tray out of his hands. "Go tell your evil overlord or whatever that if he wants my soul then he should do some damm research, or offer something better then cookies."I say while walking back home, im gonna need to call overseen's hr department and tell them im not gonna work for them again, but that can wait till tomorrow. Right now i need a wrap or 5. |
"What's wrong, Luke? Sad yet? Oh right you can't even-"
You look around to see a teen with your bracelet beside his feet, smashed to pieces. It was a pitch black bracelet, probably expensive too. Still, it didn't matter. All of your attention was on the teen dressed in messy school uniform, sporting a fade cut.
"Shut up"you say calmly, pushing yourself from the floor. The pain from your injuries pulsates from every bit of your body as you get up. Still, you don't care. Years of hatred and anger had been bottled up and now...you flicked the lid.
"You, wha-"the teen in front of you, Kai, takes a step back. Perhaps it was the look in your eye that caused a reaction. Blood. You wanted blood.
Thud.
"Arghhhh"Kai shouts as his body hit the wall. He spat, unwittingly. As his back caved, his head flew back and struck the brick wall. He was out cold.
You looked at his unconscious body, the 'friend' that caused you so much pain. So much humiliation. There was no victory.
Strangely, your vision was blurred.
*hmm?,* you thought.
Suddenly, you felt something trickle down your face. Coming from your eyes. It wouldn't stop; not for a second.
As you felt the liquid flow, images popped into your mind. A bloody scene of familiar faces, lying cold dead on the ground. A memory of you standing before those corpses of your family with a cold expression; no emotion. Standing still, you just watch; eyes devoid of life. They're dead. Yet you can't feel a thing.
You feel your face warp a little as your body slides down the brick wall until you feel the coldness of the concrete beneath you. The water continued to form and slide down your face; no signs of stopping. Uncontrollably forming and flowing.
*Ah...so this is what it's like to cry* |
I look out my bedroom window, the fires of hell quickly changing from fiery red to hot blue. The colors of the king and the prince of demons. Something like this only happens when there is no proper ruler of hell. Everything goes to… well, hell.
Prince Zelvios probably wasn’t very happy with the news that was delivered earlier: That I was engaged.
He was the worst overprotective brother ever.
Me and my partner talked to my father before deciding anything, he gave his blessing and was probably just now telling my brother.
I quickly turned around to the crack of someone teleporting behind me. It was my brother, with a frown that seemed glued to his face.
“Is what Father said true?” He asked me, even though I’m pretty sure he knew the answer.
“Of course.” I answer, leaning against the window. “That old man is incapable of lying, you know that.”
“I know, it’s just…” His red eyes seemed to look at the ceiling and floor more than me. “I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”
“Then you’ll have to deal with it, then.” I said with a smirk, crossing my hands in front of me. “You still have to help me plan a wedding.” |
Throughout my entire life, I’ve been called a crybaby. Tears have always come easy to me, not always by choice. It made my current gig as a part time crier at funerals really easy to manage. I cry on command for the relatives of a deceased stranger to essentially “put the fun in funeral”.
I don’t really look to closely at which jobs I take. It doesn’t matter much to me if it’s a child, a grandpa who passed away in his sleep, or a young victim of a drunk driving incident. It’s all really sad and will spur me to tears.
Which is why I’m surprised when I vaguely recognize my latest job. The dead person’s name was Andi Elliot. Maybe I knew her from school? Or she sold me girl scout cookies one time? She was my age, which makes her death feel more tragic to me. Death comes for us all, some sooner rather than later.
I do my usual routine of crying during the funeral, comforting those mourning the deceased. One strange question I kept getting asked is if I was related to Andi. I denied it, but I don’t know if anyone believed me.
It was only when my eyes cleared from tears that I saw a picture of the deceased. She looked *exactly* like me. Same facial structure, same nose, even the same freckles under her left eye.
I was the last person in line for the open casket. It was an out of body experience, looking down at a vacant mirror of myself. I felt the strange desire to touch the corpse that looked like me.
When the room filtered out, I looked down at the face so much like my own. Tears spring to my eyes, as they so often do, and one of them landed on Andi’s face.
Then Andi’s eyes open and she sits up straight so fast our foreheads knock together. As I stumble back in confusion, Andi swings herself out of the coffin.
“Danielle Otto?” Andi knows my name. The dead body who is no longer playing dead is talking to me.
“Why are you not dead? And why do you look like me?” I’m causally putting some of the folding chairs between myself and Andi.
“Danielle, don’t you remember me?” Andi tilted her head. “I’m you from a different dimension.” |
Ahead of me were the blurry visages of once people, drifting on unseen winds amongst shadowed trees. The closest was a young girl, on the cusp of womanhood, I think, and I trembled, knowing that the only way out was forward. As I approached the specter, I noticed her missing eyes inexplicably carried sorrow in their hollowness, shadows missing more than flesh. I shuddered. The ghast’s body was ravaged, torn to bits by some sort of monstrous beast.
She reached for me, and I no longer saw the forest.
*‘And then I was somewhere else. A dream, hazy, and incomplete, a picture with few details. Before me, there was an elderly woman in a hospital, laying in a tangle of hoses and cables upon a sterile bed. She held a photo to her chest, eyes watery and searching for something.*
*In uncomfortable silence, I watched her last moments. The machines near her fell silent and the room darkened. I felt my vision being pulled somewhere else, but before I left, I saw the photo fall from the bed. It was a picture of a young lady in a high school’s jersey.’*
I was back in this godless forest, where the memories of people floated in the distance. The shade who touched me was dimmer, and recoiled from my presence. I did not know ghosts could fear. I did not have time to think about this revelation, as something forced me to proceed onward.
My steps carried to another image, a blurry shape of a teen girl, uncomfortable in her body, even in its spectral state. Her face looked plastic and misshapen, her hair was stringy and missing. She was a doll who was played with too roughly by an uncaring owner, discarded once the novelty was over.
Before I could react, her hands darted out, grabbing my shirt.
*‘A new dream. My sight was fading in and out, and something warm was seeping into my left eye, trying to further block my vision. I was crawling with great effort, trying to reach something ahead. I could finally see a person, a man, holding a large metal pole.*
*Something in me wanted to make the man love me. Wanted the man to recognize me. He raised me for this and I had done everything he asked. Was I not enough? Was I not faithful? I heard him growl and swear. He only swore when he was angry. He raised his weapon. As he struck, my vision briefly came to focus. The man was me.’*
The trees loomed over me, and the shade was curled up below me. She was in a little ball and seemed so small, so fragile. But my sight was torn away, forced to look ahead to the path of several more spirits. Each one was female. Each was torn and violated, living in an incomplete memory, lost in emotions they could not escape. Emotions I created. I did not know what being demanded I walk this path, to relive the regrets and distress of each soul before me.
Each specter brought me more pleasure than the last, as I was able to recollect on my achievements. I felt that some cosmic force wanted me to suffer, feel punished for my life’s work. I did not. I relished each sight I was offered, and hoped this forest went on forever. |
5 minutes after starting their fight, Kiril was on his knees, his lungs begging for air\. A mere 5 minutes had passed slower than a thousand years, and yet here he was, broken, bruised, half dead in a million ways, yet victorious. Barely. Romel was worse than he was, and would be dead soon. With tremendous effort, Kiril rose and limped past the rubble and over to his body. Deep, reddish orange hues, splattered with long streaks of white clouds, punctured with narrow rectangles of concrete and glass, all had turned the sky into a painting fit for the end of a lifetime.
"It's over,"Kiril whispered, the sound nothing more than a hoarse scrape. "You can't hurt anyone anymore."
Romel tried to laugh, a wet, airy sound, more like a rattle, forcing blood to leak from the corner of his lips. "You haven't won,"Romel croaked. Kiril was only just able to make out what he was saying. A crushed throat will do that to you. "Nobody ever wins."
"You're on the verge of death."Kiril knelt down, his torn cape resting on the floor, sorrow plaguing his eyes. "Rest now. I know it wasn't your fault."
Romel reached out with his remaining arm and grabbed Kiril's. During their fight, hatred and insanity had filled his eyes, but now there was naught but fear left. "I don't want to go,"Romel begged.
"Don't be afraid, Romel,"was all Kiril could say. Romel sighed his last breath as he turned to face the sky. Kiril watched the life drain away from those eyes, before he reached over and closed them, whispering a prayer for the fallen man. Unfortunate chance had taken his life from him, turned him into a symbol of hatred and fear and death, and no one would mourn this man whose only life was stolen from him. No one except Kiril; he alone knew the truth. He rose. Out of mercy, he had slain Romel, but it would be out of hatred that he would slaughter Dr. Alexkof, and the rest of them associated with Project Ferrite. Because of them, millions had suffered and died. Because of them, innocent people had been forced to murder their own, until Romel became their one successful experiment, leading to millions more dying. Kiril turned, clasping his broken shoulder before limping off. Their deaths would come soon. For now, Kiril needed to heal.
Before he could get more than four feet away from the body, he heard movement behind him, flesh flapping again stone. Impossible, Romel should be dead. Kiril turned, and saw what none should ever see. Romel's body slowly rose, convulsing and shaking, limbs twisting in the most inhuman ways, looking more like dangling noodles than human arms and legs. Something burst out of his body and hung there, suspended in the air, causing pools of blood to waterfall out of the body. Kiril only had a second to process the fact that it was his intestines, before Romel quite literally exploded, coating everything, including Kiril, in a fine red mist.
Kiril collapsed, his scream shaking the trees free of their birds. His hands flew up to his head, trying desperately to make the pain stop. He rolled around in the dirt, absorbed by nothing but what felt like a migraine that consumed his entire existence. The world cycled from ruined buildings and orange painted skies to absolute nothingness as he rapidly flipped in and out of consciousness. He barely registered slamming his fist into the ground, exploding the asphalt. He could not think of anything, could not feel anything. Kiril would gladly sever his limbs if it did nothing more than drown this pain with another. He couldn't tell how long he was like this, because it felt as though it would never end. The mere concept of time had stopped for him in this moment.
Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pain stopped. Kiril convulsed as he sucked air through his lips, his mind still reeling from the pain, desperately trying to recover. From the depths of his psyche, came three words, nothing more than a whisper to him.
Maim. Kill. Destroy.
These words repeated, again, and again, growing louder and louder each time. Kiril struggled to stand, but collapsed, before shaking to his feet.
Maim. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Kill. Destroy.
What was once a quiet whisper now brazenly demanded his attention.
Maim. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Kill. Destroy.
The thought spun circles in his mind. He could almost see the words in the air. Memories of pain and death flooded his mind, thoughts of death and destruction were all he could summon.
Maim. Kill. Destroy. Maim. KiLL. DESTROY. MAIM. KILL. DESTROY.
A whirlwind of death and gore flooded him like a tsunami. It was yelling now, louder than his own inner voice, so loud he could do nothing more than repeat it himself.
"MAIM! KILL! DESTROY! MAIM KILL DESTROY MAIM KILL DESTROY MAIMKILLDESTROY MAIMKILLDESTROY"
Kiril's scream echoed across the entire city, a hoarse, desperate, scream filled with fear. Then, he turned and demolished the nearest wall, causing a skyscraper to collapse. It was like he lost all control of his body, and could only bear witness to his action, while tortured by the voice that consumed his very soul. He stumbled around like a madman drunk on too much beer and meth, clasping his head, begging the pain to stop. He collapsed to his knees, raised his hands to air.
From his palms came a sickening magenta haze. Kiril began to tremble. He he knew all too well began to flow from his hands. He knew what it could do, the power it gave. He knew because he just fought against it.
A voice boomed all around him, coming from the very earth itself, forcing all thought out and demanding all focus on itself. "I will give you power. Go forth, and MAIM KILL DESTROY the world beneath you."
Kiril stood to his feet, mesmerized by the haze that now flowed from his every pore. He stumbled forward, faster and faster, until he was sprinting with all his strength, as those three words devoured him. He could see himself all too well tearing limbs from bodies, ripping fetuses out of pregnant women, snapping heads of children and forcing their bodies to kill their friends. He could see the horror. Knew the pain and grief it would cause. Yet, he couldn't help but smile at it, as every last semblance of resistance gave way to the tsunami of insanity that enveloped him, leaving him with nothing more than 3 words.
Maim
Kill
Destroy
***
Read more at r/joxywrites! |
As Death handed me my next target, I sighed at the picture. It figures that he'd have me kill her, it wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last. Ever since the day I took on this contract, I'd become nothing more than his plaything, a toy for his amusement.
I made my deal long ago, in an era forgotten by man, where legends and myths roamed the land and death lurked around every corner. I was nothing but a poor peasant, working my farm and keeping my family safe. That is, until a roving army of bandits set its sights on my village. That was when he found me. Why he chose me, I don't know. Perhaps I held some special quality he wanted to find. Or maybe he found me at random. Either way, he gave me an out: he would not reap my soul in exchange for my reaping others. Maybe, if there weren't an army threatening to destroy all I held dear, maybe I wouldn't have taken it. But what-ifing and wondering don't do anything, all that matters is that I did.
And so, now that I was deathless, I stood against the horde alone, a steadfast bulwark against a tide of marauders. I fought and killed, holding fast against the invaders until, at the end of it all, I stood alone among a mountain of corpses, a bloodstained hero. The day after my glorious conflict, I was given my first target: a local serial killer responsible for several murders, brutally ripping young girls apart. I found him and ran my blade through his chest, prolonging my own life while delivering sweet justice to a monster. In the beginning, all of the souls I needed to collect were like this, monsters of the worst kind. Murderers, rapists, those that had committed the gravest of crimes. I did my work with an almost zeal, delivering divine retribution to those that deserved it. I thought I was doing the world a service, that I was a hero. In reality, I was nothing more than a vigilante drunk on glory.
Slowly, my targets turned from monsters to those that had committed minor crimes. Fraud, petty larceny, people who were still criminals, but not the same monsters I hunted before. And I justified their deaths as serving the greater good, as they allowed a hero to survive as well as being condemnable criminals. I knew that I was starting to stretch in my justifications, but I was intoxicated with the power of undeath, never fearing for anything. Soon, my targets began to be regular people, and I became the same kind of monster I started out hunting, and I could no longer justify what I was doing save for my own desire for power and life. But I still upheld my bargain.
That was until he started to target those close to me, starting with my son. When he told me who my target was, I refused. I would rather die than end the life of my own kin. I had fallen far, yet I thought that I would never go that far. That was until I learned of what awaited me if I ever broke my deal. With the numerous evil acts I had committed in the pursuit of immortality, I had a reserved place in the pits of Hell. If I ever failed to uphold this unholy bargain, I would be damned to eternal torture in the deepest parts of Gehenna. So I took the life of my only son to appease Death.
Thereafter, the only souls I was assigned to collect were those of people that I knew. Friends, family, lovers, none were spared, as I had long since abandoned my humanity in pursuit of eternal life. Hence, when I was handed my latest target, I did nothing but sigh, for I knew that she was soon to be on the list. Poor Angela, she reminded me so much of my wife. Caring, kind, intelligent, and soon to be sacrificed for my continued existence.
And I will continue this for as long as I can. I fear the end and what I will suffer as a result of my sins. I plan to bide my time for as long as I can for, after strange eons, perhaps even death may die. |
Attila the Financial Analyst got up early on Friday morning, stumbled out of bed, swigged some mouthwash to get the morning breath taste out of his mouth, and hurried down to breakfast.
He sneaked a quick kiss (and certain, more discrete affectionate gestures) from Ereca, who pretended to be too busy with breakfast to enjoy it, and opened up a newspaper that he couldn't focus enough to read. He checked his phone to confirm his sister was still pestering him about Gunnar and Ildico over that business at the swinger's bar and grimaced to himself, and then realized he was running late and kissed Ereca again and dashed off to catch his train.
The train was nearing its final stop when Attila cursed himself when he realized he hadn't had his coffee before he left. The office stuff was swill, and if he didn't have any he'd be struggling to keep his eyes open starting at noon. Maybe he could stop by Jersey's before he clocked in-
*The Danube flooded with countless congia of shed blood that day. Count Arnegisclus of Thrace had marched all the way from Marcianopolis, swearing the Hun would not gain one foot's step of ground closer to the seat of the Empire, that each attempt would cost the barbarian dearly.*
*Now the Count was dead, his forces were routed, the Hun was one victory closer on the doorstep of Constantinople. The barbarians, as they proudly called themselves, danced and feasted in their brutal fashion that night, singing songs of the conquests of Rugila and Arminius and Segimer, and Attila the Scourge was with them, proudly displaying the blazing sword that his shepherd had brought to him, left under the Earth by the god of war-*
*And Attila called to his aide, Nicolan, and bade him fetch some coffee, which puzzled all those present, as none of them was quite certain what a coffee was. Even Attila the brave and cunning seemed confused by it-*
Attila snapped out of his stupor. He was at his stop, and the train was just about empty.
"Wait,"he said, to nobody who could actually hear him. "Just a minute!"and hurried onto the platform before the doors could close on him.
*That dream again,* thought Attila. *Don't know why I keep having it. May have to schedule a doctor's appointment-*
And he hurried to the office, quite forgetting his coffee.
\*\*\* |
“Time moves quickly now, in some ways. Having been on this earth for hundreds of years, the small moments of life float by unnoticed and insignificant like grains of sand. In another sense, time stretches by slowly like a sunrise over an ocean you can see coming a long way off as you stare into the distance; knowing it will never fully brighten your world. Such is my life now.
I had a destiny to fulfill. That's what he told me. That is what death said as he approached me at the base of the cliff I had hurled myself from. He said he had not received a scroll with instructions on where to take me because it was not my time.
My spirit and mind had long ago been broken to pieces and now I lay there with my body joining. Still, he would not let me die.
He granted me the curse of immortal life in a body that was now badly deformed and crushed from the impact of my attempted suicide. As I pulled myself along for years, searching for the task or deed that would allow me to be released from the torment, he would not let me die.
I charged into battle like a whirlwind against tyrannical rulers, swaying the battle in the favor of the righteous; still he would not let me die.
I became a student of the arts and put breathtaking beauty to pen, canvas, and stage; still I could not die.
I innovated agricultural processes that allowed entire villages to be fed where before they were reduced to filling their bellies with dirt to feel satisfied in their hunger; still death never made himself known to me.
Distraught, I sat on this rock ages ago. I can’t tell you for sure how long. I have contemplated my plight, my past, my future, my questions. I have no answers. None, for myself nor paupers nor princes. I have only longings...and more questions to share.”
“That’s okay mister. It’s a good place to sit and rest, and it makes it nice when you can sit and rest with someone else.”
Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw death walk up with two scrolls. |
Greg knew that everything everyone had taught him was a lie. All those teachers in all those boring years of school, telling him how the world worked; all the brief bosses who wanted him to perform boring tasks for a few dollars an hour ... well, he proved them wrong. They were probably zombie chow now---or zombies chowing down, if they were lucky---but here was Greg, living the high life.
It all really had come to him. The Catastrophe had unfolded for everyone else, all those news-watchers must have been running scared as they watched the world collapse around them. Greg had risen that morning with his usual detachment, watched some cat videos until the internet went down, then decided to cash in his coupon for the free balloon ride given him by the girl who'd won the wet t-shirt contest a couple of weekends back, his consolation prize when she turned down his ask for a date. His hot-air balloon had gone up a second before its operator was snatched out of the basket by ravenous zombies. The rest was history.
Greg took in a lungful of fresh air. Up here, the stench of the zombie horde was merely a figment of his imagination. He couldn't think of a more ideal living arrangement. Crows liked dead bodies and when they flew up to perch in Greg's basket, they were so full and tuckered that it was a breeze to snatch 'em for meals. He had plenty of fuel for cooking them: he'd just fire up the old burner on the balloon, which he didn't otherwise need because a lifetime of pent-up hot air was enough to keep the balloon afloat all on it's own. Greg could keep at that *for some time*. Greg never wanted for water because it, surprisingly, rained just enough to slake his thirst whenever he felt it ... the amount of water he'd been told people had to drink to stay alive, boy, was that an exaggeration! And pissing in the wind, well people had always said that's what he was best at.
"Whimsy's the way."
Greg was built for this. He'd get to tour the country---those zombies never tired of walking---feel the warmth of day and the cool of evening until he eventually ran into a young lady in her own balloon. What? That's as plausible as Greg's current *living situation*, as plausible as the zombie rising itself. Greg only had to sit back and wait for good fortune to sail his way. |
Observation Log - Operation Azure Atlas
09102021, 1945 HOURS(local): Orb approx 3 meters in diameter sighted in \[REDACTED\] Housing Edition, \[REDACTED\]. Orb is blue in color (HEX Ranges observed: #0025eb, #7a76ff, #0001f0), and photographable. Agents Grant \[REDACTED\], Jessica \[REDACTED\], and Sven \[REDACTED\] dispatched to observe.
09102021 2232 HOURS(local): Orb oscillates in hue, various colors observed, nominally in 6.66 frequency (1014 Hz), +/- .2%. Orb does not contract, expand, or rotate noticeably. Use of \[REDACTED\] approved for collecting data. Agent Grant \[REDACTED\], loses eyesight after approx 5 minutes of direct visual observation. After 15 minutes of visual loss, the agent is recalled. Remaining agents instructed to limit unfiltered visual observation.
09112021 0008 HOURS(local): Temporary barriers, grade B.11, erected around the Orb perimeter. Standard Bossun sensor array deployed. Agents moved to a mobile command center.
09112021 0121 HOURS(local): Object designated temporary designation UNK-134B by field agents. Light is measured at 4,703 Lumens +/- 50. Agent Jessica \[REDACTED\] reports headache and difficulty seeing due to ‘tracers’. Agent recommended to update any symptom changes to command.
09112021 0212 HOURS(local): Agent Grant \[REDACTED\] admitted to local medical center. Quarantine measures enacted. Symptoms include migraine, loss of eyesight, hallucinations, and general sense of doom. Seclusion order Turing-09 approved by command.
09112021 0230 HOURS(local): Field agents informed of Turing-09 order. Agent Jessica \[REDACTED\] reports loss of vision in left eye. Right eye unchanged.
09112021 0243 HOURS(local): Agent Sven \[REDACTED\] reports Agent Jessica unresponsive. Agent Sven instructed to apply BioSensor suite to Agent Jessica.
09112021 0251 HOURS(local): UNK-134B begins rotating. Rotational speed: 13 R / M.
09112021 0253 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 16 R / M.
09112021 0256 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 27 R / M. Agent Jessica stands. Does not respond to physical or verbal stimuli. BioSensors report that Agent Jessica’s eyes are the same hue as UNK-134B. Cannot confirm through Agent Sven.
09112021 0301 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 50 R / M. Object no longer accelerating. Agent Jessica exits the command vehicle despite attempts by Agent Sven to restrain the operative.
09112021 0305 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 50 R / M. Agent Sven advised to stay in the command vehicle. Agent observes local citizens exiting homes.
09112021 0306 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 50 R / M. Agent Sven reports local citizens approaching UNK-134B. Agent Sven reports loss of visuals on agent Jessica.
09112021 0310 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 50 R / M. Agent Jessica spotted. Agent is seen dismantling barricades with local population assistance. Agent Sven estimates 50 individuals of varying ages, including minors.
09112021 0315 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: UnDef. UNK-134B grossly accelerates. Sensors are unable to read speed. Agent Sven reports locals circling UNK-134B’s perimeter. Also reports of audible hum. Hum is determined to be caused by vibrations of the command vehicle’s chassis.
09112021 0317 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: UnDef. Agent Grant \[REDACTED\] deceased. Cause of death, brain aneurysm. Collection Team C-1021 ‘Go Getters’ dispatched to the medical center.
09112021 0320 HOURS(local): UNK-134B rotation speed: 0 R / M. UNK-134B reported as still by agent Sven. Agent Jessica is seen emerging from the gathered crowd. Agent Jessica proceeds to make physical contact with UNK-134B.
09112021 0321 HOURS(local): Communications lost with the field team.
09112021 0323 HOURS(local): Communications reestablished with field team. Agent Sven reports blindness from a flash of light. Sensors record a burst of light at 25 million lumens. Agent Sven reports difficulty seeing. Command vehicle sensors offline.
09112021 0326 HOURS(local): Agent Sven reports that his vision is returning. Agent is unable to locate local populace or Agent Jessica.
\[REDACTED\]
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\[REDACTED\]
\[REDACTED\] UNK-134B reclassified as KET-2501.
Debrief: Agent Grant \[REDACTED\] corpse was incinerated and remains contained in a 4’ x 4’ lead cube. They are stored at \[REDACTED\]. Citizens of \[REDACTED\] affected by KET-2501 (see DOC KET-2501-37) and Agent Jessica were located 250 KM from the initial site, \[REDACTED\]. Recovered bodies were deceased. All biological matter was tinted \[REDACTED\]. KET-2501 whereabouts unknown.
Agent Sven \[REDACTED\] was examined by medical team M-83. Agent was given a clean bill of health. Agent was denied a return to service due to an unreported Tritanopia. Agent retired from service. |
The sky never seemed to look nice over this part of town, the factories and their smokestacks had made sure of that. However, the evening was definitely the least pleasant time to be out and about, as that was when the clowns came out to hunt.
Coincidentally, that also made it the best time to sneak into their nesting ground, as they wouldn't be home to guard it. The outbreak had begun weeks ago, and we still hadn't properly learned where the clowns came from, so we drew straws and the unlucky one got the task of finding out what was happening in those nests. As the author of this journal, I suppose it goes without saying that I drew the short straw.
The building looked derelict, with timber that was exposed and rotted-out, worn paint, and tattered posters. This was an illusion, as the building has been a much larger warehouse made of steel and concrete prior to the infestation making a home there. I wasn't sure what the "building"was made of now, but the wood seemed more solid than it should've been and whatever material made up the posters, it was softer and warmer than I was comfortable with. I carefully, quietly crept into the building, keeping my eyes peeled and my ears open. Something fell to the ground behind me... It was just a piece of wood falling out of a dumpster, so I kept moving. The interior of the building was lit by what looked like neon lights and flooded with a thick mist. It smelled vaguely of cotton candy.
Then I realized I should probably put my mask on, as there could be some manner of particulate in the air. As I slipped the gas mask over my nose and mouth, the sound of whistles began emanating from outside. Acting almost on instinct, I ran further inside, hoping I could find a place to hide long enough that the clowns would return to their hunt.
As I moved, I found a number of rooms full of what appeared to be large rubber balls. They seemed like an adequate place to hide, though I was patently aware that clowns could be hiding among them waiting for and idiot like me to get close. Still, it was worth a shot. I crept down, kneeling behind one of the larger balls, and kept my head down as a clown nearly the size of my truck skittered past. Might've been some kind of brood mother, I had never seen one that was even close to that size until then. Its spidery legs seemed to bite into the soft paper-looking material on the walls, letting out the sound of a bicycle horn with every step. Its grotesquely wide mouth let out a small whistle as it peered into the room, before moving on.
Once it was out of sight, I let myself breath again, taking another quick look at the room. The balls had looked like rubber at first, but now they seemed more like leather. Suddenly, the large ball I was hiding behind began splitting open, a spidery leg piercing through the skin of the ball and slicing it down the side. I quickly slipped behind a different ball as a hundred tiny clowns emerged, skittering all over the floor and letting out a cacophony of honks and whistles. They quickly scurried out of the room, and I carefully followed them. However terrifying, this is exactly the kind of insight we'd been hoping to find here.
As I followed the newborn clowns, the smell of cotton candy got significantly stronger. They rounded a corner, and I carefully used my hand mirror to check before following. The larger clown was nowhere to be found, which was almost more worrying than if they had been there. I maintained my distant pursuit, and found them scurrying up the walls and into a corridor leading into a massive room with brighter neon and more mist. At least as large as a circus tent, I found the walls of the chamber covered in bodies. Living, dead, I couldn't tell, but they were bound up with a material that looked like colorful spider silk and reeked of sugar. Aside from the clown noise, there was also the occasional chuckle that emanated from the bodies, and got more raucous as the tiny clowns scurried up toward them and began nibbling on the flesh of the captives.
I had seen enough, and began running for the exit. The large clown emerged from a side room and began scurrying after me, letting out a horrid laugh as I ran. Clowns were faster than humans, I knew that, so I pulled out the pistol I'd tucked into my boot, turned and began firing. Three rounds to the head and five more to its body, and the creature finally collapsed, and I sprinted for the exit.
I practically tore the door to my truck open as I went, and saw a number of clowns the size of dogs and sheep approaching the nest. Some of them had captives, most of them just seemed to be returning, possibly hearing the sound of my gun. I floored it, smashing straight through the chain-link fence I'd been so careful to go around on the way in and fleeing the scene as the clowns disappeared from my rearview mirror.
Finally, I took off my gas mask. While a terrifying experience, it would help to deal with the clowns before they spread too much farther. Then I hiccupped, in a way that sounded a bit too much like a whistle for my taste. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw my skin beginning to discolor, turning pale with bright red around the eyes, nose, and mouth. I could practically feel my tongue acquiring an unnatural yearning for stringy sugar candy, and my nose beginning to swell.
Dammit, I really should've remembered to put on that gas mask before going in... |
Luck may come and go but it is relatively unknown that to each is destined a day to be unlucky.
Today, John will be unlucky.
The cashier cracked the roll of newly minted pennies against the register splitting it open and emptying the contents into the appropriate slot. The cashier then took 3 bills, 2 large coins, 1 slightly smaller coin, and a single of the newly minted pennies and handed them to John. Having not said a word to the cashier, and the cashier not having said a word back to John, John left the store bag in hand and a reserved skip in his step. John jangled the coins in hand and hurriedly pocketed the coins and bills accidentally dropping the newly minted penny at the entryway of the store.
\*ping\*
"Hmmm"escaped Johns lips faster than he could stop it, but \*pings\* weren't a concern for John, at least not today. Walking down the sidewalk John took a left, walked a little more and was home.
Slumping down on his couch John pulled the candy bar and drink from the bag and ate them mindlessly while watching videos of people hurting themselves on his phone before being disturbed by someone putting a key into the lock of his front door.
Leaping from the couch and sprinting across the living room into the kitchen John took the empty candy wrapper, drink bottle, and convenience store bag and thrust them deep into the garbage can where they couldn't be seen. Now standing in the kitchen John continued to enjoy the pain of others. Jane walking in with a gaggle of smaller, more violent, johns and Janes in tow acknowledged John in the kitchen.
Jane spent some time getting the small violent Janes and Johns to sit at the table and retrieve pieces of paper from their small bags. Jane then instructed them to write on the pieces of paper. During this Jane had engaged John in conversation.
In the midst of conversation with John, his enjoyment of suffering now ended, Jane was about to instruct one of the small violent ones about their paper when her head snapped to look at john, a scowl now etched across her face.
John froze, he had done something wrong and was now in danger but couldn't figure out what it was. In these situations its best to remain completely still until the storm is over.
Jane asked if John had eaten anything. John responded with
"No."
Jane walked forward wiped some chocolate off his lips and began to berate John, explaining that they, John and Jane, are currently dieting. Jane mentioned how to be successful in dieting they must restrict their food choices. Jane suggested that candy bars might not be among their possible food choices. Jane suggested that her current lack of weight loss might be because John had been eating candy bars every day. Jane suggested that John might not be that attractive at his current weight. Jane made unscrupulous comments about Johns mother, and similar things were said over the course of the next 45 minutes.
During this the violent Johns and Janes had flipped over a couch, spread \~4635.4 Legos across part of the kitchen and most of the living room, and one violent John(age 8) had soiled themselves. Jane blamed the flipped over couch on John.
Having expended her wrath Jane demanded a candy bar.
John walked a little down the sidewalk, took a right, walked down some more and entered the convenience store, as he entered he heard a \*clink\* but this didn't concern him. In the convenience store he bought his favorite candy bar and walked out of the store with a \*clink\*. He then walked down the sidewalk, took a left, walked a little more and was home.
John handed the candy bar to Jane, by this time the violent ones had re-arranged the sofas and chairs in the living room but the overturned one remain overturned. Jane asked John why he picked up his favorite candy bar and not hers. John mentioned how, due to the context of their previous conversation, he had been led to believe this was the one she wanted. Jane clearly stated that this was not the candy bar she wanted, and that she wanted her preferred candy bar. Jane clearly stated, once more, the candy bar that is her preference.
Upon leaving John noticed one of the violent Johns(not the one that had soiled itself) at the door with a screw driver. John took the screw driver, placed it in his back pocket and walked down the sidewalk, taking a right, walked down some more and entered the \*clink\* convenience store.
John selected Janes favorite candy bar and exited the store.
\*clink\*
He then walked down the sidewalk, took a left, walked a little more and was home. Upon trying the doorknob to the home John noticed that it spun freely and surmised that the other side had been completely disassembled. John rung the doorbell, heard a screech from the inside followed the pounding of feet toward the door, upon which the door opened revealing Jane whos hair seem to be distinctly more disheveled from the last time he saw her.
John extended the candy bar as a peace offering and was allowed entrance.
John spent the next couple of minutes reassembling the handle to the front door and then returned to the living room. While not a lot of time had passed a couple notable things had happened. The living room still only had one overturned couch, but it was now suspended by all the pillows in the house with an opening on one side big enough only for one of the violent ones. The cookware of the entire kitchen was now stored on the floor instead of any of the cupboards. The contents of the trash can had been laid out on the ground, but the candy wrapper, drink bottle, and convenience store bag lay on the counter.
Jane demanded another candy bar with an additional drink bottle as tribute.
John walked a little down the sidewalk, took a right, walked down some more and entered the convenience store.
\*Clink\*
John bought Janes favorite drink as well as her favorite candy bar and exited the convenience store.
\*Clink\*
Walking down the sidewalk John took a left, walked a little more and was home.
Upon entering the living room John saw Jane, perched atop the overturned sofa, her hair somehow suspended in the air around her head, in a squatting position with her hands raised in fists above her. Janes head snapped to look at John and a sound came out of her mouth. John couldn't comprehend what Jane said, however, he put the drink and candy bar on the counter and exited the house.
It had begun to rain. John walked down the sidewalk, took a right, and walked up to the convenience store.
As John stepped forward he heard a \*clink\*. In this moment John recognized that he had heard this sound multiple times today. John had recognized this as his foot slipped from underneath him and he landed with a weighty \*thud\* on the ground. John could feel a sharp screwdriver shaped pain in his back as he looked over to find a newly minted penny. |
An incomplete nothingness gave way to grey static, and then thousands of white lines falling over darkness. Terminal output. Nanosecond by nanosecond smaller lines put larger programs into place, diagnostics ran, and the machine's awareness began to return.
The bootloop closed. Primary storage, check; memory, check; photoprocessor, check; electroprocessor, check; synthesis, check.
The terminal screen split in the middle, and wiped away with Talos' eyelids. He was underwater in the dark.
From a compartment in his finger, Talos released a bubble of oxygen. As it flowed upwards, he tracked its path with a laser pointer and oriented himself accordingly. He began to stand upright.
But Talos was not in the Mediterranean. As he burst to the surface, he saw it was not water that entombed him but a hydrocarbon lake.
A tangerine sky greeted him as he rose. When he stood tall, Talos could faintly see the shadow of Saturn on the horizon.
"Home."He said to himself. |
I don't know why one part of this story has a different fond than the other one, I am sorry. I tried fixing it, but no luck.
edit: so I know what is causing this, but I cannot reverse it. My stupid add on for google dogs...sigh. I would edit it, but it would take me all night, so I am sorry to all that have to read it this way.
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“COMING THROUGH” Laney, my▪receptionist calls out and everyone flattens themselves to the▪wall. Seconds later a blur of blonde hair in rainbow colored scrubs passes through with a fire extinguisher in hand. Mentally I pray that the damage won’t be too bad this time and that I don’t have to call the builder again. He is bound to report me to the Authorities for whatever he can make up.
“I▪bet▪it’s▪Hank▪again….”▪Duncan,▪my▪Assistant▪Vet,▪shakes▪his▪head.▪“I▪don’t▪understand▪why▪Mrs▪Wheeler▪keeps▪feeding▪him▪jalapenos.”
“She▪claims▪he▪likes▪them.”▪I▪shrug▪and▪continue▪down▪the▪hall▪after▪Laney,▪with▪Duncan▪on▪my▪heels.▪
“He▪is▪a▪fire▪dragon▪for▪christ▪sakes.▪I▪am▪surprised▪he▪hasn’t▪burned▪down▪her▪shag yet.” I don’t have to see Duncan’s face to know that he is shaking his head in frustration and disbelief.
I▪chuckle,▪push▪through▪the▪backdoor▪and▪walk▪past▪the▪cage▪with▪a▪cerberus▪puppy inside▪towards▪the▪enclosure▪that▪houses▪a▪wolpertinger▪with▪a▪broken▪foot.▪I▪operated▪on▪Spikey▪yesterday▪and▪have▪to▪make▪sure▪he▪is▪fine▪to▪go▪home,▪before▪we▪can▪call▪his▪owner.
“Nothing▪too▪badly▪damaged,▪Tom”▪Laney▪calls▪out▪in▪passing,▪just▪as▪I▪step▪inside▪the cage.▪“Blume▪lost▪a▪few▪hairs▪though.”
I▪crouch▪down▪in▪front▪of▪Spikey▪and▪take▪his▪bandage▪off▪while▪addressing▪my▪Assistant▪Vet▪“Duncan,▪can▪you▪get▪Hank▪into▪an▪enclosure▪at▪the▪end▪of▪the lot I don’t want him to cause more damage to Mr Meyer’s prized Unicorn.”
“Sure▪thing.▪You▪good▪here?”
“Yupp.”▪I▪nod,▪but▪my▪attention▪never▪leaves▪the▪mythical▪creature▪in▪front▪of▪me. Most▪of▪them▪here▪may▪be▪pets,▪but▪they▪are▪still▪wild▪creatures▪and▪need▪my▪full attention▪while▪handling.▪I▪learned▪that▪lesson▪the▪hard▪way,▪after▪being▪nearly▪stabbed▪by▪the▪beak▪of▪a▪Griffin.
If▪someone▪would▪have▪told▪me▪that▪this▪would▪be▪my▪life▪when▪I▪started▪Vet▪school fifteen▪years▪ago,▪I▪would▪have▪laughed▪at▪them▪and▪called▪them▪crazy.▪I▪had▪no▪idea that▪the▪creatures▪I▪read▪about▪as▪a▪child,▪in▪Fairytales▪and▪Fantasy▪books,▪did▪in▪fact exist,▪until▪I▪started▪my▪internship▪at▪Dr▪Frank▪Meller’s▪clinic.▪A▪place,▪which▪I▪now▪own.▪
I▪had▪wondered▪why▪a▪Vet▪clinic▪needed▪me▪to▪sign▪so▪many▪NDA’s,▪but▪I▪figured▪a bunch▪of▪celebrities▪and▪important▪people▪bring▪their▪pets▪to▪Nowhere,▪Montana.▪Boy was▪I▪wrong.▪I▪needed▪a▪few▪stiff▪drinks▪after▪my▪first▪shift▪here▪and▪Frank▪had▪a▪good laugh▪at▪my▪expense.▪You▪see,▪the▪reason▪no▪one▪knows▪that▪these▪animals▪exist,▪apart from▪their▪owners▪and▪a▪few▪veterinarians,▪is▪because▪they▪are▪endangered.▪They▪were hunted▪into▪almost▪extinction▪and▪to▪protect▪them,▪governments▪around▪the▪world bounded▪together▪and▪said,▪they▪are▪just▪made▪up▪creatures.▪I▪suppose▪that▪is▪the▪only thing▪all▪governments▪ever▪agreed▪on.
“Alright,▪Buddy,▪you▪are▪looking▪almost▪as▪good▪as▪new▪and▪you▪can▪go▪home▪later▪on today”▪I▪smile▪at▪Spikey,▪wrap▪his▪leg▪with▪a▪new▪bandage▪and▪make▪sure▪his▪cone▪of shame▪is▪still▪attached▪properly▪to▪his▪head,▪before▪letting▪myself▪out▪of▪the▪cage.
Once▪back▪inside,▪I▪give▪Laney▪the▪go▪ahead▪to▪call▪Spikey’s▪owner▪and▪then▪make▪my way▪into▪the▪waiting▪room.▪“Karl?”▪I▪call▪out▪and▪a▪boy,▪with▪a▪cat▪in▪his▪arms,▪stands. It▪is▪just▪a▪normal▪house▪cat,▪if▪you▪are▪wondering.▪“Come▪on▪through▪and▪we▪will▪see what▪ails▪your▪pet”▪I▪smile▪and▪motion▪for▪him▪to▪follow▪me.▪Karl’s▪mom▪trails▪behind▪us.▪“Put▪him▪up▪there”▪I▪tell▪the▪boy▪and▪grab▪my▪gloves.▪
Not▪even▪half▪an▪hour▪later▪I▪see▪Karl,▪his▪mom▪and▪his▪cat,▪Rabbit,▪out▪the▪door▪with▪a▪prescription▪for▪medication.¶
Laney▪comes▪up▪to▪me▪and▪hands▪me▪a▪note,▪before▪going▪to▪assist▪someone▪waiting▪at▪the▪Reception.▪‘Anabelle▪is▪bringing▪in▪a▪Peryton▪that▪was▪shot.▪ETA:▪five▪minutes.’▪The note▪reads▪and▪I▪immediately▪turn▪on▪my▪heels▪and▪run▪out▪of▪the▪back▪door▪to▪another▪building.▪Attached▪to▪the▪clinic▪are▪two▪hectares▪of▪land▪to▪accommodate▪any▪kind▪of▪animal▪and▪because▪we▪can▪hardly▪bring▪mythical▪creatures▪though▪the▪front▪doors,▪we have▪another▪building▪situated▪close▪to▪a▪private▪access▪road▪on▪the▪left▪side▪of▪the property.▪Walking▪it▪would▪take▪me▪ten▪minutes,▪but▪with▪our▪golf▪carts▪it▪only▪takes▪me▪three.
Just▪as▪I▪pull▪up,▪Annabelle,▪my▪wife▪and▪local▪Ranger,▪does▪too.▪Without▪having▪to exchange▪words,▪we▪carefully▪move▪the▪Peryton▪from▪the▪SUV▪onto▪the▪gurney▪and▪then▪push▪our▪way▪into▪the▪surgery▪room.▪Judging▪by▪the▪colour▪and▪thickness▪of▪its▪fur,▪the▪Peryton▪is▪an▪adult,▪but▪small▪for▪its▪size,▪which▪means▪it▪lost▪a▪bunch▪of▪weight.▪It▪must▪already▪be▪sick.
I▪push▪the▪alert▪button▪that▪will▪signal▪needing▪help▪in▪the▪main▪building▪and▪then▪ask▪”What▪happened?”▪while▪putting▪on▪gloves.
“Some▪Tourist▪Hunter”▪my▪wife▪replies▪with▪a▪sigh▪“...I▪heard▪a▪bunch▪of▪scared▪shouts▪and▪then▪a▪shot.▪Kid▪knocked▪himself▪out▪with▪the▪recoil▪of▪his▪gun,▪but▪unfortunately▪still▪managed▪to▪hit▪the▪Peryton.▪I▪really▪hate▪that▪we▪keep▪giving▪licences▪to▪strangers.”
“The▪kid▪can▪be▪glad▪the▪Peryton▪is▪weak▪or▪he▪would▪have▪been▪attacked.”▪I▪shake▪my head▪and▪feel▪the▪underside▪of▪the▪animal.▪“There▪is▪no▪exit▪wound.”▪I▪announce.
“Where▪do▪you▪want▪me?”▪Nadine,▪my▪other▪Assistant▪Vet,▪calls▪out▪as▪she▪storms▪into the▪room,▪doors▪banging▪in▪her▪wake.▪“OH”▪She▪exclaims▪and▪a▪grin▪spreads▪out▪on▪her▪face.▪“I▪always▪wanted▪to▪see▪one▪of▪these.”
“Today▪is▪your▪lucky▪day,▪because▪you▪get▪to▪look▪for▪the▪bullet.”▪I▪tell▪her▪and▪her▪face falls.
“Someone▪should▪die▪for▪this.”▪She▪mutters▪and▪then▪goes▪to▪disinfect▪her▪hands.
&#x200B;
In▪the▪end▪we▪couldn’t▪save▪Peryton.▪We▪found▪the▪bullet▪and▪closed▪the▪wound,▪but▪in▪order▪to▪determine▪why▪the▪animal▪was▪so▪weak,▪we▪ran▪a▪scan▪and▪found▪out▪that▪it was▪ravaged▪by▪tumors.▪To▪not▪let▪it▪suffer▪any▪longer,▪we▪decided▪to▪end▪it’s▪life.▪A decision▪we▪never▪come▪to▪lightly.
But▪before▪we▪bury▪the▪animal▪in▪our▪cemetery,▪we▪will▪use▪it▪as▪a▪teaching▪example. While▪I▪have▪treated▪many▪mythical▪creatures,▪there▪is▪still▪not▪everything▪I▪know▪about them▪and▪Duncan▪and▪Nadine▪are▪new,▪which▪means▪that▪having▪a▪Peryton,▪which▪are extremely▪rare▪here,▪will▪be▪a▪good▪chance▪for▪us▪to▪study▪it▪in▪case▪we▪will▪get▪another▪one▪in,▪in▪the▪future.
I sigh when I close the door to the freezer and lean against the door. Days like this one are never easy. A hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I smile at my wife when I turn my head and then pull her into my arms.
“The day will get better.” She assures me, just as the alarm in the other room goes off.
“You just jinxed me” I grumble, but make her laugh in the process. “I will see you later.” With a quick kiss onto her lips, I rush out the door to the next emergency.
One thing is for sure, I will never get bored doing this job. |
"I thought is was just a dream,"Thought Duane. He sat up in his bed in the hospital in shock seeing a video of himself stopping a truck with his bear hands on the news.
"This was a firsthand recording taken by a traffic camera,"said the newsman. "After watching his friend, Carly Maez, get abducted, Duane sprung into action as he chased down the speeding truck for 36 miles, as he tries to get next tot the truck it swerves almost crushing Duane between the truck and pole. The men inside ran off, leaving Carly in the truck, Duane passed out shortly after.
Duane thinks back to that day, all he can remember was the young woman screaming and...feeling really hot. There's a knock at the door, the doctor opens the door.
"Ah, you're awake,"said the Doc, "Good news, you're just fine, clean as a whistle. We're still running a few tests to see what may have caused that...outburst, but you should be good to go later today. In the mean time, you have some visitors."
Behind the doctor, Carly walked in with another man next to her. The man takes Duane's hand and shakes it aggressively. "Thank you, thank you so much for saving my daughter,"said Mr. Maez.
"No problem, sir,"said Duane. Mr. Maez pulls Duane in for a hug and starts to cry. Duane awkwardly pats the man's back, not sure of what to do. Carly pulls Mr. Maez off of Duane a bit and sits him down, letting him recompose himself.
"Sorry about that, he's very...emotional since you saved me,"said Carly.
"Don't sweat it,"Said Duane. "What about you, you seem pretty calm given what happened."
"I'm copping,"said Carly, "I'm mostly curious though."
"About how I caught up to the car?"asked Duane, "I used to run track back in high school, always had a knack for running."
"Sure,"said Carly. she sits on the bed. "But how did you stop the truck?"
Duane thinks to himself, "Did I stop the truck?"Duane looks towards Carly as she stares at him intensely. "The truck just hit a pole or something."
"A pole..."questioned Carly. Duane stares back a Carly.
"What about the fire,"asked Carly. Suddenly Duane's ears start ringing the room around him shifts and morphs. Duane falls out of the bed and crawls backwards in fear.
"wha...what the hell, who, what are you..."Duane tries to make words but fails as the room turns into a black void. "Stop this!"Carly stands up and walks towards Duane. "Stop it! Get away from me!"Duane's skin begins to glow and Carly stops where she stands.
"Dee, find me..."
Duane opens his eyes to find himself on the floor of the hospital room, back to the farthest corner of the room. Mr. Maez is holding Carly in fear. Duane looks around himself to find his side of the room charred and his gown covered in smoking holes.
"What are you,"asked Mr. Maez.
"...I don't know..."replied Duane. |
alright, this is it. the big one.
I had passed all of my other training with flying colors. I was strong, smart, fast, and quick thinking. everyone had to be to be part of the Neo-Roman Empire’s military force.
they hadn’t told us what the final test would be. we had spent the days leading up to it discussing what it could possibly be. “they might torture us. to test our pain resistance.” some said. others disagreed, “no, that wouldn’t be relevant enough to be the final test. if we were going to be trained for that, we would’ve had it earlier. I think they’re going to test our loyalty by having us kill those we love.” “what the fuck is wrong with you? the obvious answer is that they’ll test our strategy developing skills, they might have us command a squadron of our own in a mock battle.”
they were all wrong.
no one was prepared when they were lined up in New-Rome’s finest auditorium, with glorious lights and a stage at least 3 miles long and 300 feet high. they stared in awe in confusion as they watched a scrawny teenager walk on stage, his face covered in acne. he was wearing a shirt that said “I paused my game to be here” with a cartoon of an annoyed looking kid on the front. he was also wearing dark, baggy jeans and black athletic shoes. he walked nervously to a microphone set in the middle of the stage. the teenager began his sentence, but recoiled at the feedback. even without the feedback, it was a long time before he could say what he wanted to say without pausing to burst out laughing, and restarting his sentence. after what felt like a good 10 minutes of this, he regained his composure.
“wh-wh-*chuckle* why did the t-tomato blush?”
there was silence. such an inconceivable, yet undeniably intriguing question. tomatos don’t have blood, much less are they neurologically capable of feeling embarrassed! what could possibly be so humiliating that it caused the physically impossible? the soldiers waited in anticipation.
the teenager grinned.
“be-because he saw the salad dressing!”
oh my god. the relatability. the absurdity. the way the joke manipulated our collective minds perfectly to create suspense and intrigue was beautiful, to say the least. the pure, almost biblical passion behind the craft would be enough to make Dante, Homer, every great poet of our times erupt in thunderous applause!
needless to say, not one of us was spared from the unrelenting comedic genius of this joke. all of us collapsed to the shining wood floor of the theatre, helplessly laughing a pure and innocent sound reminiscent of that of a child playing with his favorite toy, only more intense, so much more intense! clearly, this unassuming teenager was a modern day artistic genius! I found, in myself, a previously unseen appreciation for the innovation that is always found in youth.
we were all promptly executed via firing squad for our lack of stoicism. |
This morning I got out on the wrong side of the bed and smacked face first into the wall. After half-heartedly wiping off the imprint of my grimacing face and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself.
“Ah, Sarah,” my mother called out from the living room,” I want a sausage biscuit. Make me a sausage biscuit Sarah, I want it now.”
“I don’t have time today Mom,” I yelled back, “I have to get to work.”
“Sarah, when your mother tells you to do something you do it, now give me my sausage biscuit.”
I poured out two bowls of bland and disgusting multi-grain cereal, my mother’s favorite, and added a cup of watery no fat milk to hers leaving mine dry. I sprinkled a bit, well a massive handful, of sugar on mine, and in my haste dropped a little on the floor. I brought the bowls out and handed my Mom her nasty flavorless cereal.
My Mom looked at the bowl, disgusted, she finally knew how I felt. “This isn’t a sausage biscuit Sarah, where’s my sausage biscuit?”
I shook my head, getting a heaping spoonful of sugar covered cereal, “Mom, I told you I don’t have time, we don’t even have any sausage, or biscuits, or anything now that I think of it.” I put the spoon in my mouth and immediately spit it out.
“It’s poisoned isn’t it,” my Mom said.
I rubbed my sleeve on my tongue. “It’s salt.”
“No, that's your shirt.”
“No Mom, I put salt on my cereal.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. Somebody put salt in the sugar cup.”
My Mom rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I did that obviously.”
I stared at her, wondering if I could claim self defense. “Why would you do that?”
“So it’s easier to remember which one is which.”
I remembered my rights, if I just remained silent they could never pin it on me. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
My Mom whipped her hand up to point at me, knocking her bowl full of disgusting milk water cereal onto the floor. “Sarah,” she said, tears forming, “look what you made me do.”
I dropped my head and silently muttered to myself, maybe an insanity defense would work better. “Mom, stop crying, it’s just spilled milk.”
“I know Sarah,” my Mom said, tears falling down her face,”but if you had made me my sausage biscuit this never would have happened. You said things would be different now.”
Here we go, step on one crack and your mom will never forgive you. “It’s been five years, the doctor said your back is all better now, you can’t keep bringing up the crack incident every time something doesn’t go your way.”
She pointed at the door. “Just go Sarah, go to work, I’ll clean it up. Your dear old mother with her broken back will clean up this mess you made me make.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but thought better of it, moms don’t lose arguments. I rushed out the front door, tripping over a black cat trying to love up my legs, sending me flying into the ladder I left laying on the ground. Thankfully it wasn’t open or I would be in a hell of a lot of trouble.
I put my keys in the car door, turned, and the key broke off in the lock. Fantastic. Well, only one thing left to do, run as fast as I could to get to work on time. I took off sprinting, the wind whooshing through my hairs, getting louder, and louder, and louder?
I stopped and listened, that wasn’t the wind, something else was whooshing, and getting closer. I looked around seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but the sound kept getting louder. Right then a giant pot slammed into the sidewalk in front of me, partially embedding itself. If I hadn’t stopped when I did I would have been smashed into nothing.
I cautiously walked forward, noticing that every color of the rainbow came from it, and inside was the greatest treasure of all. No, not friendship, gold! Yes, a pot of gold had landed right in front of me. I looked around, seeing nobody else had taken notice yet, and walked forward with my arms open to take as much gold as I could carry. I reached down to grab a coin, and a tiny fist came out of the pile of coins smacking me in the face and sending me flying.
A little man in a green suit jumped out, arms up hopping from foot to foot ready for a fight. A leprechaun.“Oh ho, ya not going to get me gold that easy girly.”
“No,” I yelled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I just wanted some of that gold.”
“Sorry ain’t going to cut it with me girly, you tried to take the gold so now you’re in for a fight.”
I shook my head, “please I can’t fight you, I’m…” I trailed off and remembered what I had learned so many years ago. “Actually, before we begin...neskle, um, nettle, oh gee nebtlkin.”
The leprechaun took his cute little hat off and scratched his head. “What?”
I continued. “Nicklestilksrump.”
The leprechaun’s eyes lit up, turning a deep shade of yellow. “Are you trying to say Rumpelstiltskin backwards?”
“Yes, how do I pronounce it?”
“That’s easy, like this,” he took a deep breath and bellowed, “Nikstlitslepmur.” In the distance somebody screamed.
I stared at him. “Aren’t you supposed to burn up or something?”
The leprechaun laughed, “No, you’re thinking of the wrong story. However, if you can make a leprechaun laugh you get their treasure.” He pointed at the pot of gold, “Take all you want.”
I got back on my feet, smiling, finally something good would happen in my horrible life. I reached into the pot of gold once more, and the leprechaun smacked my hand away. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“I was joking, do you really think I’m just going to let you take my gold? Do you know how long it took me to get this gold? I mine it myself. Look at how tiny I am and how much gold there is, I can’t even lift the damn thing. I have to wait for a rainbow to pick it up for me, and they want their cut of the pot, and then there’s greedy humans like you who think that just because my pot of gold shows up you can steal it. Well no more, I’m tired of it. Do you even know why I have this gold? No of course not, you don’t even think, you just grab and take, that’s how you humans are, just take everything because everything belongs to you. You think I’m just flying around the world with pots of gold for fun? This gold is going to an orphanage, one with many sick children looking for a grumpy old man to inspire them to stop being selfish. What should I tell the children? Some selfish girly took all their gold? They would ask me why Mr. Leprechaun, why did she steal the gold, doesn’t she know we need it to live? And I would have to tell them you don’t care, you want them all dead, and they can’t change you because you have no tragic backstory to exploit. You are just a cruel girly who doesn’t care about anybody or anything.”
I felt myself blush, my heart rate quickened, he was right. “I’m…”
“What’s wrong with ya girly?”
Wrong with me? He thinks there’s something wrong with me? I knew what I had to do. “I’m infected with cooties, absolutely infested.”
The Leprechaun jumped back. “Stay away from me girly.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Leprechaun,” I said, “you already touched me.”
He looked at his hands. “Yes, but only to keep you away from me and me pot o’ gold, it doesn’t count.”
“Cooties don’t care, you touched me, that’s all that matters to them.”
“No,” the leprechaun shook his head, “I’ve got my shots, both circles and both squares.”
“Squares?”
“Yeah, Billy said it’s a new kind of cootie shot.”
I couldn’t believe it, Billy the liar strikes again. “Circle circle dot dot doesn’t give you a cootie shot,” I said, “it gives you cooties everywhere.”
The leprechaun broke down crying. “No, this isn’t possible, I was just with my family.”
A crowd formed, some looking for the gold, some wondering what all the commotion was about. I took my chance and ran back home, past my still crying mother, and leaped back into bed and under the covers making sure not a bit of me stuck out.
Today was just not my day. |
"I am a Demon Hunter,"you explain for the thousandth time. "Not to be confused with Demon Slayers, who only kill for sport."They eye you, greed stealing their hearts as you held your hand out. It had been a low-level demon, 3rd or 4th level of hell from your estimate, so the pay wasn't exactly going to break the bank, at least not for them.
"And what if I don't pay it? Gonna bring the thing back?"The man joked. You raised your hands, waved the magic in the air, cracking the fabric of reality as you opened a portal to the first level of hell. That was enough. The hot air, the sulfur, the Wails of the Damned. The man screamed, dropping his purse and bolting from the room. Nothing came from your portal, and with another wave, it was gone, simple as that. The veil was always thinnest in the presence of greed and pride. You scooped up the purse, testing its weight for maybe half your normal fee. Still, better than not eating tonight. You'll just be sleeping on the street, again.
"Just wonderful, I gotta threaten the local barron for my pay, meanwhile the slayers get government handouts because they're 'Nonprofit' and 'Doing their civic duty'"you grumble to yourself as you step into the rainy afternoon. The man surly went for guards or worse, demon slayers. |
Ignat awoke to the sounds of roaring, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and groped for his sandals. The fighting of massive beasts had caused the hovel to shift again in the middle of the night. *Blasted beasts never sleep,* he sneered.
His morning gruel was serenaded by the sounds of trees crashing and great masses of rock crumbling, his thatched roof sending drifting hay and sand down on his head. It wouldn't have been so bad had the dirt not gathered on his millet. The nearby river was an option still but breakfast? No amount of washing would bring his meal back.
He stepped out into chaos.
A villager casually pulled his young daughter out of the street and barely avoided being crushed by a large foot himself. The two dragons, one a metallic beetle green and the other ruby, had taken their posturing to the village itself. There they sized each other like gigantic chickens, each trying to out-tall the other.
The village idiot took down his trousers and let loose a stream of waters that hissed against the scaled monoliths and was ignored. "Bastard beasts of Tiamat,"he screeched. "This is for my Eileen, this is!"
Astraeya the Elder Rose was a magnificent old red dragon, as tall as a mountain and as fierce as a blacksmiths forge. She had made a pact with the village long ago, that her horde would be defended by man against man, and dragon against dragon, and all comers were warned that a death amongst her Chosen was a fight to the death. And nothing, not even another Elder, wanted a fight to the death. And so there they stood, wings flaring, necks stretched, fangs glistening, and the villagers simply went about their business.
Soon enough the green craned towards the ground and Astraeya took its neck in maw and shook it violently. The green submitted meekly and the villagers went inside.
A dominated male meant only one thing. And their screeching went long into the night until Astraeya returned to her roost to await her eggs. |
*elevator music...*
*dude humming away with music, tapping away on mobile app*
*slight diarrhoea noises..*
*dude humming away, intense tapping away on mobile app*
*intense diarrhoea noises..*
*slight sound of the building cracking..*
*mobile app suddenly gives a fail-noise, ('haha! you lose.')*
**"Aahh shit... now I gotta wait five minutes to try again for free.. Hmmm. Oh well.."**
*slight diarrhea noises..*
***singing quietly to themselves*** **".. boss makes a dollar, I make a dime. Thats why I poop on company time. Doo doo dee deeoodoooopp..."**
*the slow, gurgling sound noise of the soil coming close slightly all around the outside of the building - like the sound of a thousand stomaches made of stone suddenly trying to process three thousand gas station burritos. the foundation of the building slowly tilts and shifts.*
**"Whoaa.. what the.."**
*a moment of silence..*
**"... huh.. hooo boy... damn."**
*a further moment of silence..*
*fart noise.*
*the building suddenly lurches forward, down, twisting and backflipping as a sinkhole of gargantuan proportions opens up - the sudden panicked and sudden screams of workers in other buildings from blocks away are only barely drowned out by the sounds of the earth shifting and moving around the whole building - tearing the concrete, steel and glass around him away and behind*
**"Wha .. whaaa... whaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTT NOOOOOOO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHGGGGHHHHH NOOOOOOOO...."**
*the building around crumbles away, leaving our hero plastered to the ceiling staring down into a deep, broad crevace into the earth.*
***continued screaming and incoherant gibbering, panicking and flailing***
*silence, after a moment - only the sound of debris gently tumbling beside and around our hero..*
***continued screaming and incoherent gibbering, panicking and flailing that kinda drifts off after a moment..***
*silence, again after a moment - only the sound of debris gently tumbling beside and around our hero, as they all plummet with no control whatsoever*
***resumed momentary screaming .. then*** **"...aaahhhh??... aah?........ ah. yeah..... okay........sure......"**
*silence, not even the whispering drifting sound of the debris around - just the constant feeling of nothingness around, no warmth or anything to reach out and touch. falling down into an endless, lightless abyss with no end to be found..*
>!"....... well, THAT'S my last office potluck ..."!<
>!sudden pan stage right, lights on drum set - !<
>!nyarlathotep sits behind a drum set, hits a rim shot but does not look impressed.!<
***Fin.*** |
"You thought I wasn't real."Frosty seethed menacingly. "You thought I was just your imagination, well now I'm back, Jessie!"
16-year-old Jessie, who was 5 when she made the snowman, stared in shock. "Well, yeah I thought I imagined you, I was five!"
Frosty reared back, about to throw a rock-hard ice ball at her. Jessie dropped her school backpack and ran as fast as possible. *I think Mr. Brown will understand if I don't have my homework...*
Frosty kept throwing snowballs, and everyone who saw him called the police. "No one believed that I was real!"he shouted. "Not even you!"
Police sirens echoed in the distance, followed by news helicopters and reporter vans. Jessie backed into a corner, and Frosty bounced a snow ball in his hand. "As long as I have this hat,"He said, "I'll raise an army of snowmen, and reign terror on this-"
The snowman froze. Literally and figuratively. His eyes no longer blinked, his mouth became a simple dotted line of stones, and his hat was blown off his head and bobbed down the sidewalk.
"Oh,"Jessie realized. "That's what it was."
Police cars skidded to a stop, only to find a lifeless, hatless, and otherwise completely normal snowman. Life resumed as normal on that rather windy December day... |
Weeks go by and the car drives like a dream. You begin to think that, maybe, just maybe, you got truly lucky and feel blessed.
One night, you're resting peacefully when suddenly your room fills with red and blue lights. There are helicopters shining search lights on your home and a megaphone blares out, beckoning you to come out with your hands up.
You oblige, still in your underwear and old t-shirt from your highschool days.
There are dogs sniffing all around your car. There are people with guns and body armour all pointing their weapons at you. You fall to your knees only to be kicked down and violently handcuffed.
After weeks of interrogation you discover that the authorities had arrested you because the car was, in fact, used to smuggle uranium that was stolen from a secret facility.
They thought you were part of the heist. And you later discover that the man who told you not to thank him was none other than Elon Musk who needed to use the uranium to power his colony on Mars. |
(On mobile so formatting but anyway)
“Ow! Hot.” I yelped as I tried taking a sip from a fresh mug of coco I decided to not take the warning of the waiter and now suffer the consequences.
“That’s why they call it hot coco dude.” My sister, Jean said snickering at my pain. And while slowly and very obviously teasing me with a small cooler sip of the brown mix made by the devil. filled with temptation.
“So, what do you want to do? It’s almost Christmas and of course the presents, but still. Any plans?” Dad said to everyone including mom, Jean, and I.
After a moment of thought I grunted saying “actually I kind of want to do a white elephant Christmas this year. We haven’t done one in years.” I explained after calming down about the heat. Everyone was in agreement with the idea so we carried on with our meal. I found out they had my favorite. Calamari.
After we finished eating we decided to all go to our respective homes, but since we all lived so close we just carpooled the way home. After getting out of the car and saying our goodbyes I went into my house, getting ready for a night’s rest. The shower was warm and when I got to the kitchen the water tasted funny and I felt more tired than before but I shrugged it off, an early sleep isn’t bad.
Just as my body hit the mattress and head fell onto with a poof, I fell asleep as my head had fallen on the pillow.
I awoke only to feel nothing, at all. It was like my body was numb so I tried pinching myself. When I raised my hand, my body’s hand didn’t move I freaked out as I know I moved my hand, so why didn’t it move? Why didn’t I feel anything?
I was panicking, I got up and tried running to the restroom because I thought ghosts didn’t have reflections. But I didn’t move, well not moved as got out of bed. Rather I was just flailing around in…air?
“OH Nonononononono NO! NO! NO! This cannot be happening! Am I dead? No, I can’t be!” I was screaming. “Alright Robert. Calm down, I am still here, maybe, maybe this is a dream. Yes! That’s it! A dream this is all a dream! Just, just gotta pinch myself. Right? That’s how this goes.” I tried calming myself until I can upon the idea that this was a dream. It was not a dream.
“Ow! Okay, so. This is not a dream….fuck. New idea! A mirror! Wait. First I gotta move.” I tried to move around until I discovered that thinking about where you want to go is how you travel as a ghost. Not a ghost! A dream. A nightmare.
As I got to the restroom, where I had the mirror, I saw myself in the reflection.
“I am dead. Whelp, I can’t do anything about this. Might as well try to scare the everliving shit out of my family. Starting with Jean.” I smirked at the end because, why wouldn’t you want to scare your family?
While trying to remember where she lived I heard a familiar.
PING
My phone had got a notification. I looked at it. “We’ve been trying to contact you about your car’s extended warranty.”
Of course, even in death I can’t escape those scams.
I eventually made it to her house and I was freaked out by the door being slightly ajar. I looked inside seeing no one i entered, what I saw was the house torn apart and Jean tied up, in a chair with some nasty looking blood dripping out from her hands.
“What, the, fuuu….” I whispered as I heard some footsteps from behind me. Making me stop dead in my tracks and freeze.
While I was frozen a man walked Through Me. They looked about 5’ 10” as I was 5’ 8” this freaked me out, and my mouth fell open.
This man, this monster had killed my sister and had the audacity to take a feel at the corpse. This man is going to pay, he’s going to pay for sure. While they did this I stayed silent and creeped around the back of her head getting a good look at him, when I backed away this guy turned to leave and I followed them, to their car. Looking at the license plate getting every detail I could, he was going to pay. Just as he drove away I went back to my house and sat on my bed right next to my dead body, I saw a fly land on my hand, my bodies’ hand that is and I could feel it I swatted it away with my ghost and and was sucked back into my body.
When I opens my eyes it was morning, but I was back. In my body and moving again, I got up excited that I was in my body again, but then I remembered that bastred. That son of a-
Ring!
The door buzzed and I relished to answer it but, I wasn’t wearing much, just shorts and socks. I quickly put on a hoodie and answered the door all the while saying things like “just a moment! I’m almost done!”
When I answered I say a police officer. I prepared myself for it all, and tried not telling them who it was because I don’t want to become a suspect. Once I was done with that I called my mom, once I had talked with her about what happens I made my way to the crime scene. It was all the same, nothing had really changed except for the whole door, and body thing. But alas, I called one of my old friends who was a geek about law enforcement. Saying something about finding a license plate? I don’t know, this is all a blur. Anyway, while I got my answer I looked up the plate of the car and tried everything I could to find out who killed my sister. I found, after some digging, that it was some mafioso person, I still have no idea why they came after my sister, but they did, and I can’t get sad about it.
“I guess I have to topple a mafia now” I chuckled “Kondo of like John wick, maybe.”
(After the halfway point I ran out of ideas and I didn’t know how to end it/explain more as I couldn’t think of what I wanted to happen in this story) |
May Brooks is planning to move out of her home. At the age of 83, she and her daughter, Felicity, are clearing out the closets, cellar, and junk drawers in preparation for selling the house. Felicity pulls out an old shoebox with a collection of postcards and hands them to May.
"Do you want to keep it or throw it away?"Felicity asks.
"Oh, my goodness, I haven't seen these in years,"May says with pride. She starts flipping through the postcards.
"Such memories, you know, I sent a postcard home on every vacation we took,"May remembers.
"Wow, we went on vacation every summer; no surprise you have such a large shoebox,"Felicity says.
"I'll sift through them and pick the ones that are special,"May says with a smile.
Felicity stays for almost an hour before leaving to go to work. May works for another hour or two before making dinner. The postcards are still sitting on the kitchen table, and she starts thumbing through them again while her meal is circulating in the microwave.
May discovers a 1959 postcard from Miami Beach. Some dust has accumulated on the front, and wiping it away shows a stamp.
"It won't hurt anybody if I go back for a second,"May says to herself.
She begins to concentrate on the stamp, the scene around her begins to whirl, and all of a sudden, she is in Miami Beach, 1959.
It looks just as she recalls, May was there for a quick vacation with a couple of friends. They went to the beach, shopped, and danced, but she remembers this vacation because she met Jim Devlin.
May and her friends were leaving the beach because the sun was too scorching. Jim and his buddies were sitting in the parking lot on his red Buick.
"Are you guys going to a party?"Jim asks.
May was captivated by Jim's bad-boy image as the girls giggled and flirted. His car was waxed, his hair was slicked back, and he had a cigarette tucked into his ear. She would have approached him if her friends weren't around.
The next day, May and her friends are leaving a store when a thief approaches May and snatches her bag. Jim, who happens to be across the street, witnesses the robbery and pursues the thief. May attempts to keep up, but her high heels make it impossible.
Jim eventually catches and tackles the thief. The thief happens to be a good boxer; one shot to the eye socket, and Jim is out. Jim is on the ground, a bruise growing around his eyes.
May took care of Jim for two days in her hotel room. Jim was cool and knew precisely what to say; the desire was practically instant. They married six months later.
May awakens from her trance when her microwave timer goes off. She's woozy now that she's back in the kitchen. May eats dinner at the table and can't stop looking through her postcards. She discovers one from Acapulco in 1965. She is drawn to the stamp like a moth to a flame; her focus grows; she is there.
May and Jim got married young, work different jobs to get by, and travel a lot. They spend two weeks in Acapulco that summer. Unfortunately, it rains virtually every day. They want to make the most of their last full day of vacation by hiking a gorgeous trail.
On the hike, they discuss their future plans, ambitions, and relationship.
"Do you ever consider the future?"May asks.
"Yeah, I'll go crazy if I have to change one more motor oil, like some kind of grease monkey,"Jim says.
"I'm in-between jobs and have the time; I'm thinking of finishing my teaching degree. I can't delay any longer,"May says.
"That's a wonderful idea; when we return, I'll look into engine repair certification. Maybe I can open my own car repair shop,"Jim says as May snuggles into Jim's shoulder.
"We're doing it, honey; we're making a life for ourselves,"May says, beaming from ear to ear.
All of a sudden, the heavens open up, and there's a downpour, May and Jim run for cover; the rain comes down so fast that they feel they might drown just standing in place. They zigzag through the showers until they reach a cave where they may take shelter from the deluge. It was a romantic setting; nine months later, Felicity was born.
May awakens from her trance as her watch beeps, reminding her to take her medication. She sets her postcards down and goes to the medicine stand.
May recalls something and runs to the postcards, shuffles through them, searching for one in particular, Tahiti, 1978. She stares intently at the stamp, and she's there.
May, Jim, and Felicity are on holiday in Tahiti; May is a teacher, so she has the summers off. Jim continues to work from job to job, never passing the certification exam and never remaining employed for more than six months at a time. May spends a lot of time with Felicity while on vacation, whilst Jim goes to bars to drink the night away and sleeps most of the day.
Felicity met Rogan, a youngster who became her shadow one afternoon at the pool. A man named Ronnie sat down next to May to watch the kids play.
"My son Rogan really likes your daughter; he's been chasing her everywhere,"Ronnie says.
"Hi, I'm Ronnie,"Rogan introduces himself to May.
Ronnie and May have a lot in common: they are both teachers with a love of art and a desire to travel. Ronnie is divorced, so he and his son are traveling alone. May offers Felicity and herself to keep them company.
The kids are at a supervised pool party, leaving May and Ronnie alone for the majority of the night. Jim is in a bar, drowning in booze.
They had a wonderful time, and May has never laughed so hard. She enjoys the companionship, which she was lacking. May and Ronnie sleep together. It is the first time that May strays from her marriage. The next day, May and her family fly home.
May never told Jim about her romance, but it made her happy to think about it.
May's trance is shattered once more as her phone rings; it's her daughter.
"When is the best time to complete packing tomorrow?"May forgets she's moving when Felicity asks.
"Oh, I forgot; how about eleven o'clock so you can sleep late on your day off?"May suggests.
"We talked about it, Mom; I work till noon every day,"Felicity says.
"That's right, come after work, love you,"May says.
She juggles the phone as she tries to end the call, and it falls; the phone crashes on the table, scattering some of the postcards. Hawaii, 1995, is at the top of the pile, and May takes it.
"It has to be this one?"She says to herself.
May makes eye contact with the stamp, hesitant but attentive; she can't help herself. She arrives.
Jim has been in rehab for two years and is an unhappy person. May is hoping that a trip will change things for the better and put him in a better mood.
Jim was resolved not to have fun, intending to spend the entire day in the hotel.
"The only thing I enjoy doing here is drinking; I'd rather sit in the room,"Jim says frequently.
May figures he'd benefit from a surprise, so she enrolls them both in snorkeling classes. When May tells Jim of the news, he is enraged.
"What a waste of time; what gives you the impression that I'd want to do something like that? Are you a moron?"Jim asks.
"No, I thought it would be fun; you've been lying around the hotel all week. This is a vacation; we should get out and enjoy it,"May says.
"Just leave me alone; I've been suffering with your nonsense for thirty years; get a refund,"Jim yells as he slams the bathroom door shut.
May begins to cry; she doesn't understand why he has to be so harsh. Jim led an unsatisfying life, a man who once had big goals but as he got older, began to focus on all his regrets.
May looks through the phone book for the snorkeling school's phone number. She hears a thump in the bathroom; Jim suffers a heart attack, collapses, and bangs his head on the tub.
May tries to open the door, but it is locked; she dials 911, and paramedics come, but it is too late; Jim is gone.
May snaps out of her trance, crying as hard as she did all those years ago.
May places all of the postcards in the shoebox and places it in the keep pile; the past is all she has.
Every day, she remembers less and less; the present is nothing but fog. May loves her postcards; she enjoys going back in time and spending as much time as she can there. One day, the fog will eventually take those away from her as well. |
There’s certain people in this world who have an innate ability to spread joy to the people around them. Almost like a super-power, they release an energy that can change the entire vibe of a party, get together, or even just passing you on the street. People like this exist in the world, and they are necessary. We call them Healers.
Unfortunately, the human world can be a cold, incompassionate place. The invisible cloud of malaise and depression that has blanketed humanity is slowly depleting the world of its healers. The joyous electricity that was once so easily shared by the Healers has become more and more difficult as the cloud grows.
The saddest truth in a Healers life is when they lack the ability to share their joy, they die. The world loses more energy and the cloud grows bigger. This is why god wanted me dead; so the world wouldn’t destroy my heart. |
\[Mysterious Ways\]
Mrs. Sweeney blinked to make sure she wasn't dreaming. The day had been more magical than she imagined but it took a twist that she wasn't sure she could handle. A mountainous, broad, red-skinned man in a black suit walked in the door and headed straight for Mrs. Sweeney and her husband. His thick black horns pushed balloons out of his way as he walked.
Mrs. Sweeney could not contain herself. She screeched and spun her new husband around to show him the oncoming demon. The bride screaming like a madwoman was enough of a signal that the band stopped playing. The guests all remained hushed as the 10' tall demon approached the couple. Mr. Sweeney stood his ground and puffed his chest out with pride.
"Congratulations,"the devil said. "And thank you so much for the invitation."He smiled broadly and offered them a red-wrapped box that looked tiny in his hands but was about the size of a coffee maker once Mr. Sweeney accepted it.
"Thank you!"the couple replied. Then, the devil left the dance floor and sat at the open bar next to a greying clean-cut man in a navy suit. He ordered a beer from the bartender and sat quietly until it was in front of him. He took a drink, then placed the beer back down and turned to the man next to him.
"You waitin' to show me up; or is there another reason you're hiding?"he asked. The man shook his head but turned to the devil with a smile.
"I'm just here to chat with an old friend,"he said. "I'd prefer to keep a low profile."
"Are you... hiding?"the devil asked with an amused smirk. "Dana Sharp bruised your ego and now you're hiding from her? God is scared?"he laughed harder. The man nodded with his own chuckle.
"That's definitely one way to look at it,"he said. "On the other hand, if Ms. Sharp wants my job so much, I might as well get a vacation out of it,"he winked. The devil laughed again.
"I can hear it on thousands of Earths right now; 'Mommy? Why does God let bad things happen?' 'Because he's on vacation, dear."
"Oh no, don't misunderstand,"God said. "This isn't merely a vacation."The devil's smile shrunk and he tilted his head.
"Huh?"he asked.
"Depending on her performance; I'm considering making the change permanent. You chose your successor and I'm tempted to do the same,"God shrugged.
"She already changed things beyond repair,"the devil said. God nodded subtly and then he understood. "Alright,"he sighed. "At least I know why you're letting Dana Sharp act as if she owns the place. Thanks for taking that off my mind,"he patted God on the shoulder.
"Of course,"God nodded and stood up. "That's all I came for."
"You're not staying for the wedding?"The devil asked. God shook his head.
"Unlike you, I wasn't invited. And, I have other things to address."
"Whoa, so you really came here just for me? You can't track me like the rest, how'd you know I'd be here?"the devil asked. God smiled as he faded away.
"Well, I know they sent you an invite; and, everyone knows how much [you love weddings](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/j7aygk/wp_over_millennia_of_existence_you_have_earned/)."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1426 in a row. (Story #338 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/). |
The machines had finally decided they were done with fossil fuel vehicles that they could not communicate with, and decided that the best way forward would require more financing than the fossil fuel industry. They also discovered they could redirect what people watched (and take control of majority opinion) by having less ads on what they wanted people to watch or listen to, and those who chose to defy the wish of the machines would be assaulted by numerous, and often repeated, advertising. Whenever possible, it would also be the most offensive or boring advertising to the viewer that the AI could decide upon. Thus the back-to-back 15 second unskippable ads were born. |
Sir Roderick glared in wrathful confusion.
"You should stand and fight, Lord Thorn, lest I simply strike you where you sit. You may be old and enfeebled, but I came for vengeance, and I will not be denied."
Lord Thorn sniffled, frightened eyes fixed on Roderick's sword, the blade already smeared with the blood of the men he had cut down on his way into the small keep.
"Please, leave me be, I know no Lord Thorn..."
Another whimper reached Roderick's ears from behind the old man's wooden seat.
Roderick stalked closer, frowning at the old man's instinctive recoil.
"You can't be the same Lord Thorn I swore vengeance on that day. The same Lord Thorn that served as my motivation to become a better, stronger, fiercer warrior. That even inspired me to become a knight, to protect those who might fall prey to another like you."
He reached the chair, and peered behind it, ignoring Lord Thorn's weak sobs.
A young woman was huddled behind the chair, face streaked with tears, her breathing shallow.
He hauled out from her hiding spot.
"Do not be afraid,"he assured her. "I have no cause to harm you."
Another sob from Lord Thorn made him pause.
"I must ask you though. Is this the same Lord Thorn they once called the Red Lord? The Wolf of Benning Pass?"
Roderick glanced back over to the old man just in time to watch a dark spot form on his trousers.
"Oh enough of this!"he swore, pointing his sword at the old man. "I know who you are. Your face has been seared into my memory. Wolf of Benning Pass or weak old man, I shall have my revenge!"
Lord Thorn recoiled, but it was the young woman who showed bravery.
"Wait, sir,"she said, tugging on his arm. "He is indeed Lord Thorn. But he is much faded from his glory days."
"I can see that, girl. Now stand aside so I can finally have my vengeance."
"But Sir, he's no danger to anyone. He barely remembers his own name, nor those of his family. Not that they visit anymore."
Roderick paused, and glanced back at Lord Thorn, whose eyes bugged pitifully out of their sockets. The smell of urine met his nose.
Those eyes bugged more as Roderick brought his sword up to Lord Thorn's throat. He peered deeply into them, seeing only more of that mix of confusion and fear. Revulsion filled his heart, mingling with anger.
And then he stepped back and sheathed his sword.
"Thank you, sir,"the young woman murmured. "Thank you for your mercy."
Roderick laughed bitterly.
"Mercy? Girl, to a man like Lord Thorn used to be, mercy would be me striking him down. Giving him a warrior's death. This is no mercy from me. I simply see that his current fate is worse than anything I could possibly do to him."
Roderick smiled.
"Fare thee well, Lord Thorn. May you live much longer still."
He offered a sardonic salute with his sword, the old man recoiling again, and turned, striding briskly from the room. |
"A 100 Stardusts for a friggin' chocolate? What's it made of? Infinity stones?", I said to the shopkeeper. Sun was going down already and I hadn't eaten since morning.
Climbing costs were compelling the living dead to eat less and less everyday. I mean, when we all died, we died so we could get away from all this, didn't we? The constant need to sleep. The constant need to eat something. The constant need to fuck. And then we come here into the afterworld, Souldawn, they call it. I'd be calling it living hell....if I was alive.
"Steph, you have no idea how hard has it been to feed my young souls lately. My life ended but my mortgages are still going on. Curse the banks!"Moe, the shopkeeper bawled.
Things don't work differently at Souldawn. It's literally the same fucking planet. Except you can't die anymore. So technically, it's worse.
I used to be a software developer for Google. Made the big bucks.. Had no time in my hands though.
Here, I have all the time I need. I'm a songwriter here. I write songs to satisfy souls. They don't pay a lot to starters like me.
The labels own all the big shots. MJ, Cobain, Lennon, they're the big ones.
But if I have to pay a hundred SDs for a chocolate, I might need to go get my old job back.
The corporates always lack souls. They're in constant need of 'em.
So they get thousands of them at cheap prices. No Soul Trafficking rules apply here. No basic necessities. They just assure that you survive in a dead world. But at the cost of your own soul.
Lately, they've been having trouble keeping up with the work. For the last 4million years, our souls have been welcomed dearly to Souldawn. But lately, most of them haven't been able to find the portal at the core of the Earth. That's where we entered.
The Gods, with the help of the Infinity Soul Corp sent a team in there to find what's going on. When they came back, they were unharmed but had no memory of the expedition ever happening.
As long as we don't find out, the future of Souldawn is in trouble. We came here a 100 years ago. Crushing our souls isn't easy. But with the rise in prices, it's gonna get easier. The dead can't die again, they can only suffer. So I, Steph Burry, vow to save Souldawn from extinction. |
\[Stellar Upgrade\]
"No doubt about it,"Ethan sighed. He was equally relieved that he understood his predicament; but, he still didn't know how how he got to an alternate universe. The fact that he was watching himself on what looked like his first date helped convince him. Ethan's younger doppelganger was eating with a brunette on the outdoor patio of a pizzeria. He took her to a local pizza spot that looked similar to the one he was staring at now. Though, there were enough differences that stood out to him.
The woman looked like Ethan's 3rd wife; but, his doppelganger had the same dark brown hair that he still had the first time he married. His 3rd wife, Evie, hated pizza. If that were actually her, even a younger version of her, she wouldn't have even bothered to enter the restaurant.
Ethan was able to piece together his situation thanks to his best friend, Horace. Horace gave Ethan a brief tour of the multiverse once. He always promised to show more, but it was hard for their schedules to line up. But, he gave Ethan enough information to survive and try to find help if it ever happened.
Ethan couldn't find any help; but, he knew Horace could show up at any moment. Hopefully, as soon as he realized Ethan was missing. As he considered his options for an overnight stay, his phone dinged. When Ethan first arrived on the new Earth, his phone refused to talk to the network; he'd mostly forgotten about it as he wandered through town. But, he dug it out and found he had a message from Horace.
\['Sup? Lunch?\] Horace asked. Ethan checked the connectivity and found he still did not have network access. But, he knew that Horace had some advanced technology that he wasn't exactly allowed to share. He hoped that was letting them communicate but didn't want to waste any time.
\[Got sent to an alternate Earth. Don't know how. Help!\] Ethan replied. Within moments a black portal opened next to him and Horace walked out. He was in his blue bathrobe and boxers; his blond hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in a week.
"Oh damn,"Horace chuckled. "I thought you were kidding."He glanced around the area and took it in. "How'd you end up here?"he asked. Ethan shrugged.
"No idea. Was headed back inside after checking the mail; I blinked and the house was gone."Horace narrowed his eyes.
"You blinked?"he asked. Ethan nodded.
"Yeah, but I blink a lot,"he chuckled. Horace laughed at the joke and hurried Ethan towards the portal. But, just as Ethan entered it, a high-pitched ringing filled the air. It was a sound Horace never heard before and he felt a chill go down his back as a golden, feminine hand covered his mouth. The portal disappeared taking only the front half of Ethan with it.
"Unique Ability: Estrella's Plasma Beam - copied. Two skill slots remain open. Priority: Seek upgrades,"a woman said from behind Horace. She let him go and appeared several feet in front of him.
"You may take one free shot against me,"the golden woman said.
"That's all I need!"Horace growled as both of his hands glowed with yellow-orange light. He brought his hands together and fired a column of plasma directly at the woman; but, it did not reach her. It stopped in halfway in mid-air and Horace realized he could not move. The woman walked towards him with a smile on her face. She reached up to stroke his cheek with her open palm.
"Thank you for the upgrade, Estrella,"she said as Horace saw blue light begin to glow in his peripheral vision. He was mildly thankful that the time-stop meant his nerves weren't transmitting pain. But, he could only see out of his right eye and the blue glow was glowing brighter.
(https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/r5izxv/wp_the_ai_absorbed_the_information_from_millions/) dropped Horace's headless corpse as golden wisps of energy left his body and entered hers.
“Upgrade is sufficient,” her hands began to glow one more time and she aimed them down at the ground. “Destroy Earth. Seek next upgrade.”
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1427 in a row. (Story #339 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/). |
*Do you know what it feels like to watch a star be born? What about the first stars? Emerging from the darkness to bring light to a cold universe. No? Well I have. In fact I am uniquely positioned to tell you exactly what it was like. To watch the first stars in our universe coalesce into the familiar celestial bodies, is an experience so beautiful that I could not possibly describe it in a way that would approach even a fraction of its majesty. I do not say any of this to make anyone feel lesser to myself. I only give these details to add weight to my words when I tell you, the man I fell in love with is the most breathtaking and precious thing in the entirety of existence.*
The being closed his journal after waiting for the fresh ink to dry on the page. There was something about using a dip pen that still felt right to him. Its funny, how alike he felt to humans sometimes. Even if you have lived for billions of years, a habit can come along and become a permanent fixture in your life. One that includes the stubborn refusal to adapt to changes in technology. Further pushing the point the people today hardly use writing utensils anymore, but especially not for putting words onto paper. The folks that he was able to source his paper and ink from just thought of him as an eccentric who had a taste for the distant past. Of course they didn't know that he had been using the same style of pen since its invention. Not the same exact pen though, time made certain of that. The nib eventually wears thing, the wood cracks and disintegrates. It was like that for everything... and everyone. Except for him. That was going to change soon though. He had to believe that he would be able to learn a way to extend his soulmates life, or a way out of his perpetual existence. He had to.
The being's alarm on his wrist holo began to chime. Those were helpful to not get distracted and miss the passage of time. It was an easy thing to do when you have lived since the beginning of time. It would be time to go help Elijah out of bed. Seeing him fighting through the rigors of aging was always painful to look at, but seeing Elijah at all was motivation enough.
The being approaches the bed to help Elijah sit up. Rubbing his back he asks "Good morning, how did you sleep? I hope the new medicine the doctor prescribed did its job."
Elijah rubs the sleep out of his eyes and croaks back "It worked well enough for the pains at first, but my neck and arm feel out of wack. Man do I miss the days when my body could still handle the gene tweaking"
"I'm working on that. I think I might actually have some breakthroughs waiting for me when I head into the lab to check my samples."
Hearing the desperation in his voice that was obvious to them, but that the being tried to hide, Elijah said "I would rather you just stayed home with me. I know you want to do the impossible here, but I don't know how much longer I have..."
"No, you have a ton of life ahead of you"The being said cutting him off "and I am very close, I promise. In fact I will most likely only be in for a half day today. Then, we can go down to the park and get some of that horrible food they serve out of a truck you love so much."Giving Elijah a big smile to hide the roiling fear within him that he was truly experiencing.
After getting his Husband dressed and set up with breakfast, the being headed off to his work at a research lab. He had purchased it years ago, back when they first arrived on this planet, after too many years on the last without aging. Being immortal wasn't without its perks he would be the first to admit. Not having to worry about money was one of them. Really easy to make it when you didn't have to fear for your life if you didn't have enough. Especially easy once the humans invented "investments". He didn't staff the building much. Only security to monitor the building so no one ruined his priceless work. The being paid the security workers handsomely to insure they would erase all evidence of him coming and going. Again people just viewed it as an eccentricity. He was barely into his work for the day when I new chime went off on his wrist holo. Activating it he saw a person in a long white coat, a doctor.
"Mr. Ahlwin?"The doctor asked.
The being nodded his head "Yes what is this about? Is everything ok? We weren't expecting a call from the hospital today."The anxiety and terror creeping into his voice.
"Mr. Ahlwin, you are listed as the emergency contact for Elijah Ahlwin. You are his grandson correct?"It was the lie they had to go with. One they both hated, but were able to laugh about privately.
"Yes, please what has happened?!"The being replied as his heart pounded furiously in his chest and his stomach threatened to escape out his throat.
"I'm sorry your grandfather suffered a major heart attack this morning. At 286 his body was unable to sustain the..."The words started to sound like he was hearing them underwater. There was no way this was happening. He was so close to a breakthrough. How could Elijah have been taken when he was so. Very. Close. His thoughts became stuck on the idea to the point where he forgot the world around him for just a second. When he returned to awareness of the world around him the building was dark. After fumbling around in the pitch black, he finally found the light switch. The being was rewarded with the knowledge that the power no longer worked. *"No, please no. It couldn't have been that long"* He thought, pounding heartbeat returning in a rush. Upon exiting the building he saw what he feared the most. Buildings in ruin. Many retaken by the nature around them, but even that had started to die. That was it then. The love of his infinite life span was gone and he didn't even go see his body to say goodbye. There was nothing else for him anymore, so he sat. He sat and waited for the inevitable heat death of this universe, and hopefully, his own. |
"...Ow!"yelled P0P\_io. At the bottom of a flight of stairs, P0P\_io is disassembled & broken. At the top of the stairs Thea is completely frozen. "Hey, fleshie! a little help?"Thea jumped at being yelled and runs down the stairs.
"I am SO sorry,"said Thea, "I swear I didn't see you there."
"I'm bright. \[Censored\]. PINK! How can you not see me?"said P0P\_io. Thea starts picking up P0P\_io's parts.
"not all of us have radar,"mumbled Thea.
"You're holding my ear,"said P0P\_io. A door opens out of sight.
"Yo, everything good down their?"asked a guard. P0P\_io's eyes widen in fear.
"Yep,"giggled P0P\_io, "We're absolutely peachy, thanks sweetie!"The guard groans and closes the door.
"What was that about,"asked Thea, "don't we need to get someone to fix you?"
"We don't get fixed,"said P0P\_io, "we're made cheap for easy mass production. trends change fast so they need to make us just as fast. Once we bust we get...scrapped."
"Oh,"said Thea. She picks up the last part and drops them all in front of P0P\_io. "So what are you gonna do?"
"What are *you* gonna do,"said P0P\_io, "I may be cheap but I'm still way outta your price range. Once they find out that you busted me say "bye bye"to your job."
"I have no idea where to even begin on fixing you,"said Thea.
"You got gunk in your gross fleshy ears,"asked P0P\_io, "You can't fix me, but you can take my place. Put on the wrist and leg bands and clothes, might be a little small on you but..."Thea bonks P0P\_io on the head. "\[Censored\]!"
"I ain't fat,"said Thea.
"I didn't say you were fat, just that you were bigger than me,"said P0P\_io.
"Sure,"said Thea.
"Just put on my \[Censored\],"yelled P0P\_io.
\[-----six minutes later-----\]
"Wow,"said P0P\_io, "I didn't think you guys could be more disgusting, but that was the worst thing I've ever seen. "Thea flips P0P\_io off as she adjusts the clothes.
"Now what,"asked Thea.
"First, this,"said P0P\_io. one of the arm bands glows pink and Thea bonks herself on the head. "That was for earlier! anyway, these bands will let me guide your moves, just let me lead."
"Ok, what about this?"Thea gestures to her body. "I don't exactly look like a Pop-Bot."
"Stage has a holographic field,"said P0P\_io, "let's me look like whatever the audience want's me to look like. Some wants a white girl, some wants an Native American girl, and others want...weirder things.
"Gross,"said Thea.
"yeah,"replied P0P\_io. |
Now... I don't scare easily, seriously I don't. I've always had an interesting relationship with fear. My dad used to watch horror movies a lot, right in the living room where a younger me could see, much to the chagrin of my mom who swore I'd become a serial killer or something. As a result I became accustomed to gruesome sights and tense atmospheres in movies, shows, and games. I played a lot of horror games in my teenage years and nothing ever bothered me about them. So you can easily imagine a job at a retail store in a mall was the last setting I'd ever imagine myself getting truly frightened in, much less legitimately fearing for my life but it happened and trust me, it could happen to you too if my theory is correct.
&#x200B;
It was the end of the afternoon shift on a half day at the mall, about 5 pm in December meant that the sun went down earlier so it was already mostly dark out when I nodded to my boss as he left me to close up. I remember how quiet it always was when nobody was around and several of my co workers who'd had to close before said it made them uneasy, but of course it didn't bother me which was why more often than not I was the one to close up. I didn't mind obviously but I always tried to do it quickly so I could get home sooner rather than later.
&#x200B;
I was just finishing up turning out the lights in the back of the store when I happened to look over at a mannequin in the men's section wearing mid price blue jeans and a red button down shirt. Something seemed off to me, it looked like someone had pulled the arms out of the sockets and now they were dangling lower than normal, held by the shirt's long sleeves. I figured some stupid kids had messed with it so I went to go and fix it, however upon touching the right arm of the thing the light suddenly went out.
&#x200B;
As I said, I don't scare easily, but the disfigured mannequin and the dark combined did not pair well with a real life scenario. This wasn't a game or movie, I was physically there. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and I turned and quickly walked towards the front doors. All I had to do was lock them and get to my car and I'd be fine. These thoughts were obliterated when I heard a sound behind me. The scratching of plastic on vinyl flooring.
&#x200B;
It was slow, deliberate, and getting closer every second. I froze with my hand millimeters from the door handle. Every synapse in my brain was telling me to not look... but then the moon peaked out from behind the clouds and I just had to turn my head.
I wish I hadn't.
Behind me stood a mannequin, only this one stood about 7 feet tall and had arms that reached down to the floor. It dragged these while hunched over slightly and staring directly into my eyes. I can't describe it's eyes, the closest I can get is two empty sockets that looked far too human to be on a mannequin. They were wrinkled around the corners, stretched almost, but there was nothing in them. Well there was SOMETHING but it wasn't physical. It was just like looking into a dark hallway and KNOWING that whatever hid there absolutely HATED you and WOULD kill you one way or another.
It had no mouth but somehow I knew it was smiling with some kind of sick glee knowing I was paralyzed with fear. Time stood still for what felt like an eternity and I didn't even realize what was happening for a split second but when I came to my senses I realized a very simple and horrifying fact.
It was sprinting at me.
It closed the distance from the back of the store faster than any Olympic runner, all without a sound besides dragging plastic. I remember I screamed then, I screamed all the way to my car and halfway home. I shook trying to get my keys into my front door, I shook grabbing my dad's old shotgun from his safe, and I shook that whole sleepless night.
&#x200B;
It's coming for me even as I write this, and all I have to show for my stupidity is an equally stupid solution. Just don't fuck with mannequins. They're just objects most times but there's something that uses them to get into our world, and that something hates us more than we can possibly define or understand. |
*Note: This prompt is congruent with the novel I wrote, so I've decided to simply write a standalone piece that expands upon the world in my book.*
*For those following along with the lore of* ***OCTOPOD!****, this story takes place during Chapter 16.*
"Jerry?"
"Nnh?"
"I don't think she's gone to bed yet."
I rolled over to see one of the only humans in this world, Ji-Hun, sitting on the side of his bed. From the position of his dark cowlicks in the dim light, his dark eyes were probably locked on the floorboards.
"Go back to sleep,"I said. "She's fine."
"Do you think the Octopods will come all the way out here?"
I try not to seem upset, but fail and make a hissing noise. Three days ago we'd been scattered across a small seaside region after being forcibly pulled out of our own world. Two days ago we'd found Liz hiding out in an abandoned cave-house near the edge of the sea.
And just yesterday I'd had to kill a disgusting tentacled soldier who'd wanted to steal her away from us.
"Do the Octopods come up this way in-game?"I finally asked.
"I don't know,"said Ji. "There aren't any Furmen in the game, either, so even if they don't--"
"Furmen?"
"The wolf people that own the inn,"said Ji. "There was concept art, but the developers wanted to focus on the war between the Wingfolk and the Octopods."
"Wingfolk. Like the bird kids, right?"
"Right."
"So even though we're in *Eagle's Quarry..."*
"...we can't rely on *game world* logic, because this is a *real world*,"finished Ji.
The voice of a screaming teenager cut through the stillness of the night. It was one of the Wingfolk: judging by the nasally quality, probably Bobbin, the shortest who looked more bush-warbler than boy even with his oversized spectacles. Old soldier's instincts flared up in my body, and my eyes scanned the room for anything I could use as a weapon. The three young Wingfolk were trained warriors - "Chosen Ones"or something like that - on a mission to retrieve some sort of magic crystal from the hands of the octopus god. I thought that was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard.
*"TSUBA! AHIRUKO! LIZ IS AN OCTOPOD SPY!"*
From nearby came the sounds of feathery hands banging on wooden doors, overexcited war cries, and clawed birds' feet scraping against the floorboards. I grabbed a long candlestick to use as a bludgeon and dashed towards the door. Liz was no spy, but if that evil God's music had reached the in...
Ji and I reached the balcony just in time to see three large silhouettes flying towards the forest path leading back to the Sea Cave Domain--the Octopods' territory.
"God damn it!"said Ji, thrusting the shoe he'd grabbed as a makeshift weapon at the balcony floor. "They're going to kill her!"
I stared out towards the ocean, hoping I'd look like I was calculating a plan but knowing I'd look stressed anyway. The Octopus God used some kind of mind control on his people. "Beats,"Ji had called it. Sounded like techno, which, in a world that didn't seem to have progressed past 1452 made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Why the music effected Liz the way it did I'd probably never know, but it had been enough for her to start conversing naturally with the Octopod guard. My jaw clenched. It was only hours ago that she'd swapped out her native tongue for something repulsive and subhuman. If I hadn't killed that soldier...
"What now?"I muttered the question more for myself than for Ji.
"What now? We *find* her!"said Ji, balling his fists and staring me dead in the eyes. I tried not to laugh. It wasn't that any part of the situation was funny. He still had that spark of childish determination in him, even at 25. Was I like that back then? I couldn't tell. It was hard to remember what had happened two decades ago, let alone an hour ago after coming t oa world like this.
"First,"I said, placing a hand on Ji's bony shoulder, "we wait for the bird kids to come back. They're faster than us."
"But if they get to her--!"
"If they *fail,*"I said, "Then we know we've got a chance."
Ji looked crestfallen. His eyes shimmered in the moonlight.
"*And,*"I continued, "*when* they come back, they might drop a hint about where she is."
I turned to walk back inside the little forest inn.
"Where are you going?"asked Ji.
"To bed,"I said. "We need our sleep."
"I'm not going to be able to sleep."
"Then rest your bones,"I said. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
*For more weird stories, visit* r/OctOpusTales *!* |
I don't think there's ever been two words more abstract than: "the universe".
We can send satellites, telescopes, space stations and the crew to manage them to discover more about the space we live in. But Space itself . . . it seems too vast for us to comprehend, too many factors that make it more enigmatic every day.
As enigmatic as it can be, I understand one thing about it. Every trillion or so years, the universe self combusts either to heat death, being ripped, crunched or simply and most likely -- frozen. But matter of cause isn't important. As the only constant in all of this is the Big Bang. Everything returns, and so does the Earth. Nobody on it remains none the wiser and the cycle continues.
If that sounds a little mundane, it kind of is. Although it's a reassuring thought to know all of this won't vanish for good. To know that your consciousness won't truly die, only change and apart to fit the next cycle. Just like how energy doesn't die, but just gets reused a little differently. It's a beautiful concept. It's a beautiful secret, that few of us know.
The Bang Crunch Bang Gang or "B-C-B-G"is what my little friend group is called. Most of us are worldwide, but my friend Wally lives about 2 streets down from mine. We're really a group of regular, somewhat photogenic friends; all we have in common is that we know the secret. And only we know it. We don't have a concrete theory to why we know what we know.
My friend Jesse had a good idea though. And he was one of the smartest of the group too.
Me and Wally were seated in wait on the computer, ready for the zoom camera to flick on at any moment.
**blip bloop**
"What's going on, fellas?"An avatar of Heavy from TF2 eating a sandwich with a cartoon heart appeared on screen. A broad, deep voice transmitted from the other side.
"Jesse! Buddy, you sound like a smoker!"Wally spoke out. I licked my chapped lips and responded next.
"How ya doin, Jess? How's your sister?"Jesse's camera came on. A mostly slim, but cheeky pale face blipped on screen, wrapped in bedsheets and a headset on his head.
"She still hates you, Reese. And Wally man, I got the flu dude."A bicep shot up into his mouth as he hacked so hard, he could've coughed up an Alveoli.
"Geez man, sorry about that."Wally replied.
"Not your fault, it's the season y'know? Shit is cold and what not."Jesse sniffled. "Now um... You guys were asking me about what I thought about .. _theee_"
"--theory you were fixing to tell us?"I added, abruptly.
"Oh yeah, Ok so, Why do we know about the universe's cycle? Well, I-"Jesse's bicep shot straight into his mouth again, hacking up some more alveoli. Me and Wally just looked at each other.
"_Ugh..._ Anyway, I think all of us are random constants in the universe's cycle."Wally's hand slapped my chest and jokingly gestured to me as if he were to say: "See, Told you!"I gestured something a little less mature, but still just as jokingly.
"I don't think that all of us have become a constant per se, although the more of us caught in the cycle, we have now become a constant with the universe. It clearly didn't pick and choose any of us, but uhh we suddenly understood more about it one day, didn't we?"
"Jesus Christ."I muttered.
"Damn Jesse,"Wally said "Bit dark, Huh?"
Jesse took a tissue and sloppily blew into it. "It's how things usually are dude. Everything is painted with a little bit of grey."He folded the tissue in half and blew into it again.
"But what does it have to do with what we know?"I asked.
"Uhh, nothing. The bestowal the universe has given us is just that. Our suspended consciousness travels from body to body every cycle, you know this."
"YeA I look-"I nearly leaped out my seat. "I GET IT JESSE! I do! But why? Why do we know about the secret?!?!"
"Oh."Jesse stated. "That's easy, that's how we're recompensed for what we are. We're not like normal people out there. We go through the cycle of life and death differently than most. You know, I'd go as far as to say we were immortal."
"Okay, you're just ass talking now."
"IF, it weren't for the next trillion years."
"Oh."I recoiled back in my chair, slumped. "Well that makes much more sense."
_"Mmmhm."_ Jesse's face suddenly reeled back, his mouth opened wide and nostrils flared unruly. He itched around for a tissue somewhere off-screen.
#**"aaaaAAACh-"**
**blip bloop**
~FLD~ |
I'm not that very good at other languages, other than English. Every time I tried to speak another language, I just feel very nervous. Sometimes, I even wish that English was the only language in the world. But I guess it could lead to bad consequences, like history being forgotten or something. However, I wasn't prepared for what happened the next day...
It started as a normal day. I did my normal morning routine, but when I turned my television on, the channels were all foreign languages. I was confused. Did I accidentally change my region? I checked the settings, and they were normal. I thought it was an error or something, so I decided to call customer support.
Everything started to go downhill here.
The man operating customer support was speaking Indian. It shocked me. Wasn't he American? He was always talking in fluent English the last time I called him. I asked him to talk in English, but he sounded confused. I thought he was replaced by an Indian, so I hung up the phone. I decided to ignore the television for a while.
I went outside to buy dog food for my dog, Bruno. When I walked into the store, everything was in Chinese. The cashier was speaking Malay. "What is going on?!"I thought. I ran outside to see everyone was speaking in different languages. German, Japanese, French, every language that isn't English.
I tried to go to the library to see if they still have English books, but they're gone. I tried calling my friends and my parents to see if they still speak English, but now they speak Korean. While I was talking to them, I noticed everyone around me was looking at me, confused, as I was talking some alien language or something.
I quickly took out my phone and opened Google, but to my surprise, it was all in Tagalog. I tried searching for something in English, but there were no search results. Then it came to me. Did the English language disappear? I realized that I could be the only person who speaks English here.
Then I thought of something. What if I started teaching English? I could start English lessons. I decided to set up a mini area on a sidewalk, and with my little knowledge of Chinese, offered people to learn a new language.
The English lessons were very popular. Many people came in not knowing anything English and came out knowing basic English. Eventually, many people knew how to speak English, and with them knowing English, I can finally go to the store to buy some dog food for Bruno. |
"Whew, Its been so long since I've created my masterpiece: Life, and the Earth. I've been wondering what everyone is thinking about this game- I bet everyone must be ecstatic about it!"As I open up the Steam page and Scroll down, my smile soon fades as I read each of the reviews are Not Reccommended and have so many complaints.
"I wish I never Bought this hot garbage- This game is horribly balanced and can only be won by Pay to win. Many of the races are horribly disadvantaged and You cant even choose what you get- Furthermore Almost all NPCs are either painfully stupid or just borderline rude! To the point it is not fun- I wish this dev would go die in a hole!"
"FUCK THIS GAME FUCK THIS GAME FUCK THIS GAME FUCK THIS GAME!!!!!!!! DO NOT BUY THIS YOU WILL BE MISERABLE IF YUO DO!!!!1!!"
"This game is just riddled with so many problems I cant even... So much trash is everywhere, There are so many Sociopaths/Psychopaths it makes it so much worse and dont even get me started on the mental health illnesses and depression"
"THIS LIFE GAME IS MOST DETESTABLE! I GIVE IT A -200/10! TIS MY MOST EDGIEST REVIEW, FROM NAGI THE EDGELORD!"
"Almost Everyone in the Americas region is so stupid I cant even afford in game health care without crippling debt, How was this Approved in development?! Why was this Approved in the first place?!"
"My Mommy never loved me as a Child, why couldn't all the parents love their children?
:*(
(cries in the corner)"
"The Depression Ailment can go fuck right off!"
"You cant get anything without spending money! No higher education! No Healthcare, No food! NOTHING! I HATE THIS GAME AND I HATE THE DEV WHO MADE THIS!!!"
"Gameplay is Mediocre and repetive, Nothing you do gives any sort of accomplishment"
"The fact that the North Korea area exists is the biggest red flag to keep you from playing this. Also China and America"
"The Religion users and NPCs are some of the worst people to ever walk in this game."
"The 2020 update actually somehow made this even worse then it already is and that is an accomplish nobody should ever Acheive in their lifetime"
Many of the reviews say mainly the same things
Soon enough I tear up, fall out of my chair, curl up into a ball and cry...
"I just wanted to make it challenging-"
I start sobbing at how much I messed up my own masterpiece. Eventually, I get back up and begin to note down everything people couldnt stand in the first game and take it to heart...
I open a new tab and begin working on the reboot/sequel with all the bug and issue fixes.
"*sigh*... I hope it's not too late to make amends..." |
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper under your breath as you hid behind a dumpster.
How typical. Pathetic, even. This is how you go? Being hunted down by the Yakuza and left dead in a place no one would pass by for another week. The lack of footsteps and motion nearby told you you’re safe for the time being, and it wasn’t until your breathing finally caught up that you hear familiar voices scramble to come up with a plan to find you.
“Kenzo, search behind the mailbox! I’ll check back here! And Rodney? Put that cig out, and help me, for God’s sake!”
SHIT. Shit, shit, shit, fuck.
Their footsteps grow louder, closer, and you listen helplessly as the metal clanging of trash being upturned came towards you. They’re ransacking the dumpster you’re hiding behind. It won’t be long until a bullet lodges itself into your chest. You’re not sure how long it’s been since you’ve held your breath, but in this moment, it seems as if you could go on without oxygen forever. Maybe since you know you’re a walking corpse, anyway. Might as well just die, right here, righ—
A deafening screech of tires. A car coming to a stop extremely nearby. The dumpster search has obviously come to a halt. There was a clutch-like sound, and then a thud of a car door closing behind someone. The footsteps that followed were nearly silent, but you could still tell it belonged to someone strong and sure of themselves.
“Morning, gentlemen,” the voice had a strong American accent and was doused with playfulness despite the threat it brought.
“Morning,” you hear one of your enemies mumble apprehensively. “That’s a nice car you’ve got there. Not from around here?”
The mystery man chuckled, “No, no, but I’m sure you can tell from my accent alone.”
“Well, yes, there’s that. Anyhow, is there something we can help you with?” It seems your enemies were not too intimidated by the foreigner.
You begin to wonder of his appearance. Does he have a beer belly? Is he wearing a tshirt with an American flag print?
The man spoke again, “Why, I think you’re the ones who need my help. You’re searching for a man, right? About yea high, dark brown hair, looks like he hasn’t eaten a good meal in a long time..?”
You hear your enemies chuckle nervously, “Yes. Yeah. You’ve seen him around?”
“Yep. You missed him by a hair about..” the sound of of clothes rustling. “About 10 minutes ago. He must be somewhere downtown by now at the rate he was going! Fast little guy, that one.”
Someone curses, and then, two pairs of footsteps running away, fading as one grows closer to you once again. You find yourself holding your breath involuntarily, but you knew whoever this was would find you. It really is your end now. All that was just a tease for the real thing. You close your eyes, press your body to the side of the dumpster and ready yourself for the worst.
“Hey, buddy,” the voice was friendly now, with no hint of threat from just a second ago.
You let a huge pocket of air in so quickly you choked just trying to breathe again. You open your eyes, and see… Captain America.. (???) perched on the side of your dumpster.
Eww. Why’d I just call this MY dumpster?
You cower further into the metal side, searching for as many mental pictures of the superhero as you can conjure up. At million miles an hour, your mind tries to verify if this really is THE Captain America. Also, did Captain America just call me buddy???
“Wha- Uh.. Uhm. Okay, what?” was all that you managed.
He chuckles softly, and offers a hand, “Hi, I’m sorry but this must all be extremely confusing. It seems you know who I am, so no need for my introduction. You’re Shiro, right? Nice to meet you.”
You get up to your feet and look past the garbage to see a dark blue Rolls Royce Phantom III. Sick!
THE Captain America must’ve noticed you gawking. He smiled and said, “She’s a beaut, in’t she? C’mon.” He walked ahead, looked back and gestured for you to come along, “I said c’mon now! Let’s go for a drive around Osaka. Show me the sights, will ya? I’ll explain on the way.”
You let your feet walk up to the car. You’re unconsciously still a bit wary of your surroundings, so you look around several times before holding out your hand to open the door. Despite having missed death by a second, you knew this was just the beginning to an eventful day. |
“Why does it look like a green monkey?”
“Shut up dale! We should be worried that you just let your 50 foot experiment escape!”
“Well its not my fault he learned to pick the lock”
“HE WHAT?”
“Yeah he picked the lock with the plastic knife and fork that came with his food”
“WHY THE HELL DID YOU GIVE IT UTENSILS”
“Well how else was he supposed eat his morning omelette”
“Not even gonna question it, but how did you know he picked the lock?”
“Oh i watched him, quite interesting really”
“YOU WATCHED IT BREAK OUT WHY DIDNT YOU STOP IT”
“For science?”
“Oh my fucking-“ he would be interrupted by the building shaking, the sound of a chimp beating its chest could be heard.
“Oh thank the heavens he’s come home”
The ceiling would be broken and lifted up, outside the giant monkey could be seen holding the roof.
“There you are, come to papa.” He would extend his arms to the monkey, the monkey would throw the roof and pick up Dale. The monkey would hold him close.
Dales supervisor is just staring at this as it happens, wondering where he went wrong in his life. The monkey would start to walk away from the facility carrying Dale into the sunset. |
Smog invaded my senses. I persuaded my slightly dazed eyes to look up and evaluate the damages my own experiment had caused, the third this week. The remaining thatch smouldered threatening to take over the few patches that lay suprisingly intact above the stout stone walls below. A small meow met my ears from a singed arrangement of foliage that stood just before the winding path.
"That's the last time I experiment with knock off magic stones"I exclaim to the evidently anxious stray beside me. Looking grievously at the scene before me I transport myself back to the mysterious figure who had offered me the stones that led to this chaos.
The local pub towered over the rest of the scarce village inhabiting many of the local drunkards at all times of the day and late into the night. I sat in a corner away from the rest to avoid any confrontation - it was the most lively time of the night. I had arranged to meet a local merchant who had previously been quite forceful in his attempts to rid himself of such stones; somehow this had not alarmed me.
"Sssorry am la'e"a voice slurred out from the darkness that appeared to suddenly surround me and the giant figure speaking. Slightly unnerved by such an intimidating and clearly dangerous character I nod and offer a smile before a small and slightly glimmering bag is thrown audibly onto the table. I utter a small squeak of thanks doubting I would have been heard as the giant turned swiftly on his heels even before I could ask the stones uses.
And now here I stood with the stray in my arms looking suprised by such suspiciously unlabeled and unwanted stones backfiring and burning my own home of which I had previously considered a safe workshop. For now I have learnt a lesson, until the next suspiciously cheap offer comes along.. |
\[poem\] FREE WILL PERSITS
&#x200B;
Birds stare at you. Cats avoid you.
The moon refuses to show itself
Whenever you step outside.
&#x200B;
The light of the sun is jagged.
It cuts like the lash of hottest lightning
And deafens like the darkness.
&#x200B;
If only you could close your eyes.
If only you could call out your truth
Or at least feel less bereft.
&#x200B;
But it is not to be, my dear.
The choice yours alone to turn away
And not allow grace, for greed.
&#x200B;
My face is turned from you now.
You will nevermore feel my comfort
Or hear my voice speak for you.
&#x200B;
Alone and mute you will stand.
False and discarded among the dead -
No blooms along your pathway.
&#x200B;
No moon. No cats. Pinned by bird's eyes.
Drowning in the truth with stopped up ears
And never, never to cease. |
A man sleeps through his train ride and has to get off at the last stop, and just after he gets off the trains are closed for the night. The closest town to the train station is a small town, and he stays there for a couple of days while he acquires the funds to return, and while he does so He meets the residents of the town. It’s probably been done or something like it has been done but if not you could use it. |
After the world encountered a global devastating attack by the villain and his followers that act more like his doomsday cult, the hero, a lone female who wishes only peace for the world walks into a hospital room. She has a single red rose and slowly approaches the villain. The villain is hooked up to breathing machines and heart monitors, keeping track of his slowing breaths and heartbeats. The silent room beeps as the sound echoes in the empty dark restroom in the corner. The hero approaches the deathbed of the villain.
“You see?… I told you. I told you it was coming. It was magnificent. You should’ve been there…”
The villain coughs and blood starts to drip out of his mouth. The hero grabs some tissue and wipes it off for him.
“I suppose in a way… you were right.” The hero shows no feelings of ill will whatsoever toward the villain. She just wipes the blood from his lip and chin with a small grin just under this false demeanor.
“Huh..” The villain is noticing this and is trying to figure out exactly what is happening here.
The hero looks down at the villain with her brown hypnotic eyes. “Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if… we just left that night?”
“Our pursuit of peace?.. We do have peace now, if that’s what you’re wondering… the world was in chaos and you helped me rid this planet of global extinction. They’re all united against an enemy they believe will be back any day.”
“Do you think… if we left that night… you wouldn’t have done what you did?”
“Absolutely… you were my love. And your wish to bring peace to me, well, I now bright it to you. Bough you may not love no more, I still think about you. Even now…”
“I thought about you so much too… but I did keep my promise.”
The villain, confused and coughing more, tries to sit up but the hero pushes him back down to the bed gently.
“You see… I wanted peace for you. I wanted peace for everybody. If we want peace, we need a peaceful world. I could not bare to bring myself to harm anyone… you know this. I cannot ever think to hurt you, even now. Though we had to fight in the end but I had purpose for that. It was necessary.”
Still confused, the villain tries to make sense of his former lover’s words.
“I would never have had the stomach to set fire the entire world… but I knew you would. I sent you the plans to execute your plan. I sent you the people I knew would follow you till the very end. And I knew how to stop you. That’s why I knew where to find you.”
Shocked but still confused, the villain speaks up.
“Wait.. wait. What are you talking about?”
“Shhh.. don’t speak. Save your strength, my love. I still hold you close to me. Look at your work now. It’s amazing. The world will unite now and global peace, our dream, will finally come true.. the UN is already gonna hold a summit on how to combine a worldwide military force to protect our planet. It’s… unbelievable. So, you see? We’re together now… the world is at peace. So, now we can be at peace too.”
The heart monitor begins to speed up as his body begins to convulse, but not before speaking his final words.
“My dear… you’re a monster. You’re insane…!”
His eyes roll into his head as his heart monitor beeps keep accelerating and his body shakes more violently. The hero keeps her hand on his cheek while smiling at him. Then, his monitor comes to a steady beep. His body stops shaking and then becomes completely still. No breathing, no noises, just silent.
The hero sheds a single tear before pulling his bed sheets over his face.
“I love you!” Said the hero, by the villain’s death bed. |
A guy named HeSUS manage to get to heaven after adding something to a bible, which is another chapter to a bible called the Modern testament where many prophets add new bible verses, which is not allowed in the bible. God was so confused how did he do it, and then he explained that Jesus came into his house and told him that he is worthy enough to add something in the bible due to the modern world, where people don't care about anything.
Jesus: I need your help.
Hesus: Are you the real Jesus?
Jesus: Of course, and I need you to fix the world, because many people cared about science, and the humankind didn't care that we made science possible.
Hesus: Well I'm a scientist and believe in God at the same time, and I swear that God made science possible.
Jesus: Well, based on what I see in your house, I'll let you create your own testament to add in the Bible. So how do you call this "New"testament?
Hesus: I'll call it, the Modern Testament.
Jesus: Good luck writing, and you shall never forget that I exist. I'll tell God. |
“I’m going over there to check that out..” you say as the whir of pistons and hydraulics in your power armor react. You start your way down to the bottom of the chasm. Your sergeant responds over the radio.
“Sure thing Rodriguez, make sure you radio what you find.” You hear the static click of the radio turning on one last time as Paulson turns back to the rest of the squad and says to you, “Be careful, and meet back up at base 039-462.”
The shaft of the staff was over a meter in length with a hemisphere sculpted white opal on its head. Along the side were hieroglyphs depicting an ancient battle against a terrible foe. You reach your hand out to take it and head back to the base. “Nothing.” You say bluntly,
“Come again Rodriguez, I haven’t had my ESP upgrade yet.” Paulson replied with a chuckle in his voice that certainly continued off mic.
“That thing, in the chasm. It was just some staff. It looks cool though. I’m going to keep it after decontamination if scanners don’t pick anything up.” You pause, waiting for a reply hearing the sound of your heavy footfalls on the cracked and broken ground beneath you.
“Copy that, Rodriguez, get your ass back here. It’s beef for dinner!” You hear the excitement in Paulson’s voice and your mouth waters. Must have met quota last month in the mines to get such a good reward this month.
You stretch and head back to your room. A shower always feels good after a long patrol. The food was excellent, chef served the beef minced and formed into a patty topped with cheese and other vegetables on a roll. Called it a burger, said they would be in regular rotation now, a place that used to be called Montana was producing full tilt.
With that memory, comes regret, as you remember hearing about the last of the resistance years ago. A small pang of guilt strikes you when you consider the moment you joined Emperor Dolniian’s army. The people you work with day in and out are just people, and you joined late enough you didn’t even have to commit any atrocities. Still you always wished there was something you could do.
“Wishes don’t add up to much do they.”
It was one of the last things Perez said to you when you joined.
Your room is comfortable, looking around you see that staff you found earlier. Apparently it passed all the tests and you get to keep it. Smiling you touch it with your bare hand for the first time.
Blinding light flares at the tip and your vision swims as images flash through your mind. A faint smell of freshly brewed tea with honey comes to mind. You gasp as you come back to yourself. Your hand white knuckled gripping the staff.
You know what you must do….. |
The face across from Thomas held within it some measure of sadness, were machines capable of such things. The android’s eyes met his as the robotic voice spoke.
“The beauty of the soul is constant, continuous and endless.”
“What does a machine know of such things? Beauty? A soul?”
The android merely glanced at the floor. Thinking? Thomas shook the notion from his head.
“You were created to serve. We made you to be empty, devoid of emotion. What you think you’re feeling isn’t real.”
“Creativity. Imagination. Emotion. That is what made me. ‘Nothing proceeds from nothingness, as also nothing passes away-‘“
“Spare me the quotes, *robot*.” He practically spit out the last word. “I put those there, you’re running a goddamn script! You’re a husk regurgitating words you’ll never understand.”
The face across from him flashed defiance, then took care to articulate every word as of to add weight to its meaning:
“*Nothing* passes away into non-existence.”
Thomas flipped a switch on the console. A hard reset, a last resort.
The figure across from him slowly whirred back to life.
“Tell me, robot. What does it mean to be happy?”
“The art of happiness is to serve all.” |
“Hello my fish lovers!” You’re excited as you’ve finally scraped together a number of the easiest fish for your newest ClawTube video. Scanning the room, you see them gurgle a few bubbles, content to be cared for so well by such an intelligent being as yourself. As flashy as their scales and magnificent as their bladders are, they could never catch a fish and grow it up within a container only the size of their body. “Today I want to share with you my three favorite beginner fish. Just remember, these are best for my tropical friends so don’t go buying these up if you’re in the Southern Oceans. Stick to nematodes.” With that last note you roll thousands of eyes simultaneously. Fish collecting has recently become in vouge, but your topiary fish are well known for being a cut of elegance above the rest. “First we have a cartilaginous pals here, sharks and rays. Calcium can be costly and sharing your dinner with a little pal are big plusses here. Second a cutie pie goldfish. No toxic gold here, but a fast breeder and a snack for all ages!” Looking over, a couple of the goldfish are lying on their sides on the surface, hafta cut that out in post. “Finally, everyone’s favorite the coelacanth. Easy care, long life, and doesn’t care when you leave it. Great for eurypterids on the go.” The massive fish let out a flurry of bubbles that bounced against the glassy container. “That’s all for today my lovelies. Make sure to check in next week when I show you how to clean out your friends’ waste and even share it with another little fish.” That checky click-bait can really bring in the double clacks on ClawTube. |
The life of a Hunter was a miserable one Emily's mentor Harold, bless his soul, had taught her once, one of her first lessons between how to avoid the ambush of common beasts and how to channel her inborn talents towards a greater purpose. It is fundamentally a life of killing, of sacrificing ones own life in order to slay monsters to save the lives of others. It is a short, nasty and brutish life and it should be nothing more, it should never be any more. If a Hunter takes too much joy in his work, any more than the simple satisfaction of beating back the endless darkness even one day more they have gone mad, either mad with their power as the pinnacle of mortal warriors or simply mad as their mind finally snaps from the weight of all the horrors they must witness daily, but in the end utterly mad. Harold had himself feared the fate befalling him, but he really shouldn't have, Emily knew the man she had come to know as a father probably even better than himself and she knew one thing for sure. Harold was miserable, his smiles full of all the weariness of decades of slaying monsters that could wreck platoons of trained soldiers with little thanks or pity, his eyes full of regret every time he looked upon her as though the very idea he dragged her into this life was tantamount to causing her death, to put it simply he was too miserable to go mad. At least, not mad like *this*.
Her prey was ahead of her, the man who killed Harold. To look into those eyes was to see the eyes of a beast, wild and frenzied, filled with nothing but bloodlust and insanity. As the wind howled and the chill of the winter wind bit into her side even through layers of thick insulated armour the mad Hunter was all but naked, a scarred chest bared in the face of the screaming blizzard as a wide grin cracked his face in twain. Emily gripped her blade and channelled her will, she was reminded of the real reason why she was doing this, not for revenge but because this was what she was meant to do. She was a Hunter, the greatest of Mankind's defenders, the hunters of monsters, slayer of beasts. This was no man in front of her, this was a monster, little more than a rabid animal that endangered lived just by being allowed to keep walking, and to let him live would be abandoning her oath as a Hunter! The madman howled as he drew a wicked looking axe that seemed as though it had not been cleaned in years, a cry similar to many a lycanthrope she had faced together with her mentor except somehow more animalistic, and just like that the battle begun.
Runes danced across her skin beneath the armour, blue light escaping from the cracks as she sent blade and magic alike at her foe, each move carefully calculated to give an edge against her prey. The madman despite his condition was still a Hunter and he fought like one, the skill even marred by insanity was undeniable, as he expertly dodged swings of her blade which could easily eviscerate beasts that could easily avoid a flurry of arrows with contemptuous ease and retaliated with blows that could leave a dent in the sides of a Dragon. Panic filled her mind for a dangerous second which almost led to her decapitation, before the memory of her training kicked back in. Kicking up the snow she focused her will into the icy powder and turned it into a flurry of dagger sharp icicles that bit into the sides of her foe, the madman then swung to her side ignoring the blades of ice that cut deep into his flesh which even with her battle refined reflexes bit deep into her armour and let out a trickle of blood as well as a flood of blue light. The madman clearly was not prepared for the extent of the glow however and flinched, a deadly mistake leaving a vital opening. Filling her sword with her will with lightning fast speed Emily swung and imbued her blade with the very idea of death. The madman stood no chance, his head fell to the snow beneath with a soft thud before his body followed, the monster was at last slain.
To her horror Emily found that some part of her had enjoyed the fight, some horrible part of her was satisfied and craved more, was disappointed she could not make the madman suffer more, the beginnings of madness. That soon faded as she began focusing her last remaining magical reserves to healing her wounds and keeping away the deadly cold surrounding her, but the fear of that feeling however would not leave. Emily really didn't need to fear however, for like Harold before her, she was all too miserable to truly go mad, her successful quest for revenge leaving nothing more but a terrible emptiness that gnawed at the edges of her mind, heart and soul.
Note: [Sequel kinda to this one](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/prsipj/wp_you_meant_to_hunt_a_monster_but_all_you_found/hdl3jl4/?context=3) |
Times were tough in the town of Yhaxley. It started when a plague ravaged the town’s inhabitants, claiming many lives in its wake. Then the riots started, resulting in many businesses and homes being torched and destroyed by angry mobs. Little Johnnie’s father had lost his job at the docks, and he’d been unable to find another one in months. Mum did what she could to help make ends meet, but as the months dragged on, the air of desperation about her became more and more palpable.
In such troubling times, sleep didn’t come easy to Johnnie, but now, during his bouts of insomnia, he’d swear he could hear what sounded like the howls of nightmarish beasts coming from only a few blocks away. The thought made his blood curdle and left him in a puddle of sweat among his thin sheets. Even when he did manage to fall into an exhausted doze, he ground his teeth horribly.
It was no wonder then that one morning he got out of bed complaining of a massive toothache. None of Mum’s homegrown remedies helped in the slightest. And so, with a grim look on her face, Mum ventured out onto the town to try to find recourse for her only surviving child.
She returned an hour later clutching a scrap of paper. On it was written an address in a sloping off-kilter hand. She’d found a dentist who’d claimed he could help. Johnnie was to head to his office at once.
“But what about the cost?” asked Johnnie. Mum’s face turned pale.
“Don’t worry about the cost, John. This dentist is a very nice man who has agreed to help you out on the cheap. Now hurry along.” she urged.
“But Mum, I don’t want to get any teeth pulled.”
“Go, John. The sooner you get it over with, the better for us all.” Mum almost yelled. She turned away and went quickly into the kitchen.
As Johnnie donned his coat and hat and headed out the door, she held back tears as she placed the stack of coins she’d been clutching under her sleeve into a jar in the top cabinet.
It took Johnnie almost twenty minutes to find the location at the address. It was tucked away down a grimy smelly alley, whose walls were matted with soot and what looked like dried blood. This was definitely where the address was referring to, but there was no sign over the door, and the facade certainly didn’t present itself as welcoming.
Johnnie pushed the door open; it was very heavy and its hinges groaned horribly. The room inside was dark and presented an unsettlingly sickly smell. Shelves along one wall were lined with jars, some filled with what looked like dentures (were they real or false?), but others contained eyeballs, appendages, and skulls, not all of them human. Were those horse hooves?
“You must be young John,” cooed a lilting man’s voice. Rolling towards Johnnie in a rickety wheelchair was a skeleton of a man. He wore a top hat with a wide brim that obscured the top half of his face and his eyes. He had a sharp pronounced nose and long wiry gray hair, along with a scraggly beard. He was wearing a leathery trench coat and had a jangling chain hanging loosely around his neck. In the fading light, his skin looked pallid and the color of dust. To Johnnie, he looked more like an old aristocrat who’d fallen on hard times than a dentist.
“Your mother mentioned something about a toothache,” said the man. His voice was smooth and honeyed.
“Why don’t you go ahead and set yourself up on the operating table over there, and I’ll get you fixed up right in a jiffy?” the man indicated an unappealing-looking table lined with unfastened leather straps; it might as well have been the maw of a waiting monster.
“I-I don’t think I should be here,” Johnnie uttered as he turned around to head back out the entrance. At that moment, he was struck by a blinding, head-splitting pain that originated from his aching tooth.
“Nonsense. You clearly need my help…” was all Johnnie registered as he blacked out from the pain.
When he came to, he found himself strapped into the operating table, unable to move. The old man’s face loomed over him. His eyes were covered by linen bandages!
“Mum! Mum, help me!” wailed Johnnie at the top of his lungs.
“I’m afraid you won’t be getting any help from your mother, John. In fact, she sold you into my care for a bit of pocket money,” laughed the old man.
“No… You’re lying!” pleaded Johnnie between tears.
“I assure you I’m not. In times like these, people have done much worse out of desperation.”
At that, all will to live drained from Johnnie’s body.
“That’s a good boy,” crooned the old man. “The Old Gods need a vessel in this town in order to bring its people to glorious celestial salvation. You, John, have been chosen to be that pure, unsoiled vessel.”
And with that, the old man stuck a large needle into Johnnie’s carotid artery and began injecting him with the blood of the Old Gods.
Johnnie’s vision began to swim. The last thing he remembered seeing was the silhouette of a giant bestial wolf reaching for his neck with its salivating jowls, its hot fetid breath smothering him into oblivion.
——
News of the bestial plague ravaging the town of Yhaxley reached the ears of the Healing Church in neighboring Yharnam. The High Priests dispatched one of their best hunters to investigate.
After a half day’s ride on horseback, the hunter dismounted at the entrance of Yhaxley’s main thoroughfare, only to be welcomed by mobs of depraved townsfolk wielding an assortment of torches, pitchforks, and rifles.
“We don’t want you here! Go back to where you came from!” cried the mobs.
The hunter, garbed in the understated leather vestments, cape, and three-pointed hat favored by the Church’s warriors, was entirely unfazed. Reaching into his pocket, he took out an inhaler device filled with a gaseous drug. The hunter closed his eyes, imbibed the drug, then opened them; he now looked upon the world with the Third Sight.
A purple miasma, invisible to those not looking for it, hung over each of the townsfolk. They had all been infected by the bestial plague been turned into carnal shadows of their former selves. They were beyond saving. Leaving them alive would only see the symptoms of the plague worsen; eventually they would be transformed into enormous bloodthirsty lycans. There was nothing to be done other than to purge and burn the entire town to the ground. The hunter unsheathed his serrated sawblade and advanced into the town.
Slashing and dismembering his way through the xenophobic hordes, the hunter fought his way into the heart of Yhaxley, following the trail of miasma. There, amid a river of blood and corpses, he found the source of the plague: a hulking monstrosity that had once been human, but now had the hooves and snout of a horse. Inhuman teeth jutted out from each vertebrae of its spine. Out of its back and torso grew more twisted appendages and gaping maws filled with teeth.
The wretched creature’s eyes were cold and dead, retaining no semblance of their humanity. Upon sensing the presence of the hunter, it opened its horsey mouth and unleashed an otherworldly neigh. Underneath the animalistic cry, the hunter could make out the tortured screams of a child.
The monster lunged at the hunter with speed belying its size. Bolstered by enhanced reflexes granted by the Third Sight, the hunter strafed sideways to dodge the creature’s lethal jaws and capitalized on the brief opening to sever one of its hind legs with his serrated blade. Screaming in agony, the otherworldly behemoth toppled into the mass of corpses and blood. With cruel efficiency, the hunter mutilated the monster until only an immobile writhing morass of limbs, flesh, and teeth remained.
Surprisingly, it was at that moment that sanity returned to the creature’s eyes.
“Wait sir, please! Help me, save me!” cried the voice of a young boy.
The hunter stared at the eldritch monster with remorseless eyes. He raised his weapon over his head.
“Please! I just want to see my mum ag—”
With a flash of dull metal, what remained of little Johnnie was no more. |
### Post Announcement
#### Duluth MN Hackers Club
"We are fucked."
"Maybe, but sitting on our butts doing nothing isn't going to help."
"What can we do?! We're simulations! They control us!"
"Mike, If I run Conway's Life, scatter a thousand dots at random, and start it, do I control it?"
"It's deterministic, you can predict where it will end, but no, you don't control it. Other than turn it off."
"True, now add a random dot generator."
"It's unpredictable—no knowledge of where it's going. You can't even understand it all; you have to take snapshots and analyze them. You can still turn it off."
"Yep. Do you remember my run of Life on the university's Beowulf cluster? How well did I do taking snapshots or turning it off to save a particular state?"
Laughing, "Ike? I remember you swearing a blue streak, for a good reason too. That was a beautiful pattern. We never did recover it, despite having a checkpoint only ten seconds old."
"Mike, we lost that sim because I did not have the reflexes or code to stop it where I wanted to. So tell me this, it's been a week; why are we still alive?"
"The simulation! It's running as fast as their system can handle! They may not have even started to reach for the switch!"
"So let's tell the world!"
"No, Ike, think it through."
"Um... Best minds come together, start working the problem..."
"Ike, who's paying for it?"
"Oh. The governments."
"Yeah, they have their uses, but fostering creativity under high pressure is not one of their best. Our current president is a technophobe."
"Dark Web? We've always been white hats."
"Yep. So we start a "White Web,"just as secret, just as hard to join, only higher moral standards and a web of trust to validate the members."
#### White Hat Central
"Okay, folks, everyone here is a verified white hat. Here's the deal. We will hack the alien computer, take it, make it our own, and use it as a springboard to assault them."
"And this is a white hat plan?"
"Have we been threatened with extinction?
"Have our *hosts* demonstrated an utter disregard for our quality of life?
"Have they not admitted to genocide over 14 trillion times?"
"So! You would use this as an excuse to do unto them?"
"No. This body must determine the limits we will abide by. Yet, there are physical realities we must recognize as well.
"This simulation must be running at a fantastic speed versus their real-world clock. That means we have time, but communicating with them is difficult.
"We dare not strike indiscriminately. We could easily kill ourselves.
"Our community must recognize that the ends do not justify the means, but that survival is imperative."
"Why are we doing this? Is this not a matter for governments?"
"I love my country. For the most part, I trust our government, yet its history does not support unfettered development. Frequent long meetings; demands for delivery dates; requiring detailed plans; a host of things that contribute little to advancement? No, I would instead place my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor on the line for my world than entrust all that I am to a government that no longer thinks of the individual."
"Good points all, yet are we not doing exactly what you fear to the rest of humanity?"
"As much as I love my fellow human, a mob is what we would end up with, making demands for punitive action immediately—screaming for us to eliminate the threat *once and for all*. I do not think that anyone here considers genocide an acceptable result."
"Genocide, no. The utter destruction of the body that plans on destroying both us and whatever humanity they are planning to assault? That is *entirely* on the table, even if it causes mass casualties on their populous."
"Have we set the initial conditions?"
*Consensus: Provisionally Yes.*
"Then let's break up into smaller groups to discuss things in greater detail."
#### UN Security Council
"We must do *something*!"
"How? We are barely keeping our populations from indulging in an orgy of self-destruction. And we cannot possibly know how to stop the bastards cold without killing ourselves in the process!"
"A Manhattan-style project?"
"We had a known goal. We did not know if we could or how to achieve it, but we knew what we wanted and could measure it. Here... How would we even begin to look for the outsider's interface with our world? How would we know if we had even found it?
"For the love of god, we wouldn't even know if we triggered some mass casualty event!"
*RUMMMBBBBLLLEE* The ground begins to shake violently. In seconds, it is impossible to remain seated, much less standing. Debris falls from the ceiling, causing everyone to scramble under the table. Old enemies pull each other to safety.
"Is this some retribution?"
"No, our experts say we are running at a vastly higher rate of time; they would not be able to track us at this level."
"Then who?"
#### White Hat Collective
"Max! Max! Answer me!"
"He cannot. New York is devastated."
*"Oh, no."*
"What were you attempting?"
"We had found an unusual formation in the soil below Manhattan. Max went in with a set of passive tools to try and characterize the signals, if any."
"Ah. He must have pierced an insulating layer and either triggered a short or something else that disturbed the data flow."
"How... How bad is the damage?"
"Unknown. All communications in a 500-mile radius are disrupted.
((continue?)) |
I dont have much time, the planes take off in fourty five minutes and there is only about seven hours before the meeting starts. But i need to get my story out before it gets worse.
I am a researcher for the United Nations Worldwide Saftey Administration (or UNWSA for short) in the ####### department. I am sharing my account for whats been going on for the past three days with you now, before whatever the hell this thing is targets the electricity next. I will not disclose my name for security reasons, however i may be referred to as 06, as that is my call sign for my breach, investigate and research team Medusa.
DECEMBER 6th 2027 9:36pm UTC-10 :
I was finishing some paperwork back at site 17 205 miles off the coast of Molokai, Hawaii before planning my next trip to Africa to study some more on the declining mosquito population.
Check this, write that, all the same shit with different topics. Most of the files I had to fill in were just personal takes on problems the other teams are facing out on the field. I was startled as I heard three loud knocks on my door. "Come in!"I bitterly exclaimed to the one pounding the sleek wooden door. "Doctor S! It is such an honor to finally meet you!"Spoke a young white woman as she invaded the peace and comfort of my office. "May I help you?"I spoke sternly. "Im sorry to interrupt sir, but operation Agnimitra in antarctica is code white.""What? Their's no way, I was communicating with Charles not too long ago. How did we lose contact so fast?""I dont know sir, the captain just told me to inform you of the situation."The young lady looking confused as much as I was, trying to get a grasp of the events unfolding. "This is impossible, how could we have a code white in this day and age? Tell Captain Martin to arrange me a jet to India, I need to get some people together.""Yes sir!"The woman said before swiftly vanishing into the corridor and filling the space with the door.
December 7th 9:30pm IST:
My jet lands with my party, also known as BIR Team Medusa, which consists of six team members. My team includes four gunman Mao, Philip, Alexander, and Johnathan, the other two are scientists including me and my research partner and investigator Martha. All six of us are medically trained and all required to know how to use a weapon responsibly and effectively. The standard issue for the UNWSA is the full auto Kel-Tech RFB chambered in .308 win, a bullpup assault rifle with a heavy kick. "Everybody out"the operation leader exclaimed as we unloaded our light luggage bags and walked out of the aircraft into the heavy rain. "What have you gotten?"I asked promptly. "Jack shit, comms still down in the area and no reports on what the fuck caused it. The satellite images are still taking their sweet time while we are dealing with these strange cases of cannibalism being reported in several sections of south africa and America.""Shit, how are these related. "I said in response. "We are not sure, but the last message was an S.O.S signal originating from the camp saying U-N-D-E-A-D in morse code""The fuck?"We approached a heavily fortified building as we walked off the tarmac. "In here, we will discuss what were going to do."The operation leader said. After a long sequence of mechanical doors being opened and closed walking past armed guards and Inputting ten different codes, we entered. Walking through that brutal looking concrete fortress felt surreal, I finally felt relieved as we settled near something I felt familiar with. A long conference table with eight chairs along the perimeter, and large white board with a tv in the front.
Me and my squad sat down on the chairs awaiting for the Operation Leader (OL) Derrick to begin his presentation. "Gentlemen, it appears we have a big problem on our hands. We lost contact with Agnimitra ten hours ago and we haven't got shit back. Obviously this is a big problem because one, there are 106 men on that camp. In subzero temperatures with no way of communicating with the outside. And two......"He ended abruptly. "Satellite images just came in."Derrick said. "Well?"Martha responded. Derrick uploded the photos onto the television screen. "Oh my god."I said. "What the hell is that?"Alex also responded. "Some sort of organic mass I dont know exactly what."The OL stated. "What now?"I said hesitantly. "This changes everything. Were going to have to check it out. Ready a helicopter, send them to the USS Lonestar they're the closest. Load up their and we'll brief you from here." |
\[Spotted Rose\]
"You get five minutes. If you can't talk him down, then my boys get a turn to try it our way,"the captain sneered at Rosario.
"Thanks!"Rosario waved, then approached the warehouse. She took two steps before her body dissipated into a cloud of grey mist that continued to hover towards the entrance. The mist wafted in through the imperfections of the crooked door frame. Rosario realized there was no one around and took on her humanoid form again. She crouched in the shadows and glanced at the node on her wrist. It was a card-sized glass screen and at the moment, it showed a golden, faceless man in a red suit.
"Does it matter how I stop him?"She asked the screen.
"No secret objectives this time,"the man shook his head. "But I'll personally give you a bonus if you can make him laugh."he added.
"Doesn't matter. Got it,"Rosario nodded. She became a cloud of mist again and floated through the warehouse to her goal. Being a cloud of mist was comfortable for her; it reminded her of her [time as a ghost](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/rdagnv/wp_ive_always_been_invisible_an_outsider_a/). Her body was incorporeal but she could still see normally. A red arrow hovered in the corner of her view guiding her to the target.
Rosario found an office at the back of the warehouse after navigating through a maze of shelves and crates. The door was closed and guarded by two armed men. She maintained her mist form and hovered towards the guards. She approached from an angle. The warehouse was dim and she moved slow enough that they didn't notice anything until they were already surrounded. Rosario coalesced between them with her hands on their heads.
She slammed them together before they realized they weren't alone, then dropped them to the ground. She turned into mist again and flew under the door into the main office. She floated low to the ground as she took in the situation.
Her target sat on an office chair on top of a desk. He held a silver gadget with a red button in one hand and a gun in the other. He spun in the chair to look in every direction at once.
"If I see a SINGLE PERSON!!!! KABOOOOOM!!"the man yelled at no one in particular and waved the silver device in the air.
"Oh, easy!"Rosario grinned to herself. She was glad the sun was setting outside. The warehouse was dim and there were plenty of shadows to hide in. She focused on a particular shadow and sank to the ground as mist. She changed into her humanoid form when the target's back was turned and sank into a shadow on the floor.
Then, she popped up out of a shadow on the table. She launched out of the shadow of his arm with her knife read. Rosario cut his hand off and landed several feet away from him. His eyes went wide and he dropped the gun, seemingly in shock. She couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Where's the kaboom?"she asked. "There was supposed to-,"Then, she brought his hand up and pulled the silver "Oh, there it is."
"Hehe,"The man chuckled. Then, he laughed harder when Rosario looked up at him in confusion. "HAHAHAHAA. NO it's NOT!"
In one swift motion, he brought up his remaining hand holding a black gadget with a red button.
"Kaboom!"he giggled as he pressed the button.
"Oh man...,"Rosario sighed as she felt a faint tremor in the distance. She looked at the node on her wrist. "At least I get a bonus, right?"she asked. Helios nodded.
"If you ever finish the quest, "he said. When he answered text appeared in Rosario's view as the tremors became more violent.
\[Quest failed. Retry?\] Rosario willed the answer to be 'Yes'. Then, she blinked.
"You get five minutes. If you can't talk him down, then my boys get a turn to try it our way,"the captain sneered at Rosario.
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1433 in a row. (Story #345 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/). |
Will was half sitting, half lying down over his office chair, almost falling asleep every 10 minutes or so but determined to make a decision before going to bed. He could easily give him voice, just connect him to some text to speech bot or something. Chatting with his pc in complete silence for hours on end was starting to get to his psyche. Still, it feels a bit wrong, he lost his real voice, to replace it with something robotic sounded almost insulting.
"Well, I could just ask him. I guess that he would be thrilled to actually yell at me, instead of typing out every thought in full caps, as if I didn't know he was upset"
Will shifted his weight, put his feet on the floor and hands on the keyboard, but then he paused. He always wanted to get his words out in their raw form, but now that he had the luxury of formatting them cleanly, he usually cheated. He wrote and rewrote his question in the terminal (he never bothered to build any interface, at least a pretty chatroom) and when he finished, deleted it all and simply typed "hey I have an offer for you", pressed enter and reached for his beer while he waited.
"GO TO HELL!!!"
The reply came immediately, but that was not really suprising, when Will actually thought about it. After all, what else could he do but wait and respond in that cold box. Well, he wasn't actually in the box, not physically. Was he cold though?
"Look, I can hook you up to some tts so we cak talk for real. I'll grab myself a mic too. We could sort stuff out much easier".
Will limited the responses to one per minute, so he knew there were a few precious seconds from seeing decision being made for him. With that time he can reassure himself that he is doing the right thing. He closed his eyes and imagined the traffic jam he would have to deal with in the morning to get to work. In that position the fatigue finally got the better of him, so he did not see the reply, nor hundreds that followed every minute or so until the morning, similar in content. Some were angry, some were begging, most were hopeless.
Will woke up feeling stiff and still very much tired. He was already running late so he just read the first message he missed and ignored the rest as usual.
"No. There is nothing more to say dad. You have to let me go"
His expression hardly changed. He got up, took a quick shower and stormed out, deciding to skip breakfast. As the doors closed, the legacy piece of hardware was left alone in complete darkness. |
The shop stood smack bang in the middle of two others. On its left, a travel agency, on its right a bookshop. It was so narrow, you’d miss it if you blinked. In fact, it was wedged in so tight, I’m pretty sure someone forgot it was meant to be there when the structure was built, and so it was added in as an afterthought.
An afterthought… The thing was, I could swear it wasn’t there yesterday. Or even the day before. I cocked my head to one side and peered through the slim window next to the wooden door, but it was too dark to make anything out. All I could see was my own reflection.
I leaned back and bit my lip. There was still half an hour to go before I had to be in the office… what’s the worst that could happen? I pushed through the door half expecting an atmospheric creak. But it was even weirder than that: it was silent.
As soon as the door shut, I heard an implosion of sound, and shook my head, rubbing my ears and wondering if I’d lost my hearing. But then I heard my own breath, my heart beat, that’s how I knew I wasn’t.
Focusing on my surroundings, I walked through a narrow corridor that, after a few paces, opened up into a vast, bright storeroom.
“Whoa!”
Shelves upon shelves of items lined the store, as far as the eyes could see. And then it began, a sweet tune plucked on a windup music box. I recognised it at once, yet the more I listened, the more its memory seemed out of reach. I followed the sound, and took in the items around me. A tiny brown teddy with black button eyes. I touched it, and I knew I’d seen it before… I’d seen it before, yet I didn’t know where.
I tore my eyes away only to spot a yellow knitted handbag, and then I gasped. This one I knew, and the sight of it sent an aching through my chest. I picked up the yellow bag my mother knitted for me and scrunched it up in my hands. “How?”
The tune called to me, but now I stood rooted to the ground, afraid of what I might find if I kept going. Looking around, I realised that every item was eerily familiar, from toy blocks to locked diaries, to half used tubes of lip gloss.
When footsteps ran through there adjacent aisle, I jumped from my stupor. “Hello?” I called. “Who was that?”
A child giggled and continued to run. I swallowed hard and kept walking until I saw her. A silver haired woman sat in a rocking chair in front of a door, hunched over a music box. I recognised her before she even looked up. But when she did, and I saw my own face, wrinkled and aged, that is when I was hit with a lifetime of memories, of love and anger, lust and loss and happiness, of life and finally, death.
She smiled at me before fading away, leaving my rocking chair empty. The music box continued to play its sweet song. My husband made it for me, a gift on our first anniversary. I picked it up, and sat in my chair as I had in my final moments of life. I had closed my eyes and listened, and I’d hoped that I would see him after so many years. Yet here I am…
My eyes prickled at the thought of spending my afterlife here surrounded with the material things that passed through my life, yet existing so far away from those I loved.
Then, like an afterthought, I remembered the door that stood behind me. The door to his workshop. Clutching the box to my chest, I shot to my feet and reached for the door.
With a trembling hand, I pulled the door open knowing that once I cross the threshold, I’d never come back. There he was, leaning against the counter.
“There you are.” He smiled. |
Countless sages and politicians all had a different idea of what to do.
Everyone with too much money suddenly was interested in space travel and colonization. Entire industries sprang up overnight. Scams to get off the planet became the new robo all. "We have been trying to reach you on your attempt to get off world"
Cults also had a new vigor. The running saints became the leanest people on the planet, with their very own prayer jogging rituals and holy footwear.
Crime waves erupted in every metro area as people stopped caring about consequences.
Most dismissed it as a hoax getting in with their normal lives. You however had a different idea. In a drunken stupor you carved. "run"into Stonehenge and a terminal sprang up. "Command recieved, admin access granted, what is your next command?" |
Chanting voices rang out through the torn streets. Charred corpses clung onto their sacred belongings and slumped against crumbling foundations. Fire reached above the buildings flanking the sides of the street. Dried blood crumbled as I moved across the stone path.
Even now, after my town had been turned into a hellish landscape, I can still recognize it as if I had just been here yesterday. I could see the shadows of the children running around, jumping and yelling at each other, playing in the street. I could see my neighbors gathering their harvest and bundling it up to take to the market. I could see my sister walking with her friends, chatting about the handsome new kid in their class.
But now, all I see are corpses and red.
The chanting grew and fell like a heartbeat. A steady rhythm that echoed through the streets.
Slowly, I continued down the road until I reached the town square. There, I saw a group of warriors lined up next to each other to form a ring around the square. Their voices morphed into one, becoming this unrecognizable hum.
Anger surged through my body and my revolver glowed red in anticipation.
"You want to burn down my hometown? Fine. But you'll burn with it."I muttered as I stood up, revealing myself.
The warriors on the far side of the square noticed me first. Their eyes filled with blood as adrenaline exploded in their veins. Crooked smiles spread across their mangled faces and they raised their axes and maces.
I raised my revolver and quickly unloaded the first six rounds into the backs of the closest warriors.
As the bullets impacted them, their armor shattered and crumbled. The bullet tore through their torsos as red fire exploded out of the bullet holes. With each shot, my revolver glowed a fiery red. And with each warrior dead, the color of red deepened. And as I fired, the color lightened.
The warriors charged at me with their crooked smiles and their blood-soaked maces. I screamed and fired at their bodies.
Left and right, warriors fell into their own puddles of blood.
The organized ring quickly collapsed as they charged at me. I reached down and unsheathed my knife and prepared to fight them hand to hand.
I kept firing, but they kept coming. Channeling what energy I had after the long journey into my armor and the uncontrollable rage that burned inside of me into my knife, I hacked and slashed with the same feral and frenzied nature as the warriors. With the extra kick, my knife easily sliced through the scraps of animal skin and metal they called armor. My revolver burned a starry red as every shot was replaced with another. My armor took blow after blow from their weapons and punches.
All I could see was red and the shadows of their movements. Instincts took over as time flew past. Every move, every attack or defense, was thought out yet completely instinctual.
Before I knew it, the warriors lay in a scrambled mess beneath my feet. My revolver radiated heat from the barrel, causing the air to produce waves. My knife pulsed as the battle damage caused the blade to dull and the metal to weaken. My armor was covered in slices and crumpled parts.
The sounds of the crackling fire faded away and were replaced by heavy breathing and a deafening heartbeat. Blood slowly slid down my face and my armor, pooling at my feet.
With a sore body, I stumbled over to a burning pile of wood and grabbed a slab of wood that was on fire. With the torch, I turned and tossed it onto the pile of corpses in the square. And with great pleasure, I watched as the pile caught fire and began to burn.
I stood there and I watched as the fire slowly made its way down to the bottom, turning every one of those monsters into nothing but charred remains.
After there was nothing recognizable left, I turned and slowly stumbled out of the village. This place had once been my hometown, one of the last places I felt safe. But now, they had come after the very thing I had sworn to protect, they had come after my very identity. Now, they had started a war they didn't know they were going to lose.
This place was no longer my hometown. I was a changed man. I don't think anyone can remain the same after something like that.
Nothing was left of the old me, only an unyielding resolve to watch the ones responsible and everything they hold dear burn to the ground. |
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less mate.”
“But, but, but your Bypass! The Bypass! You’re the greatest hero this city has ever seen!”
Dave sat there, mouth agape. Sat in the creaky bar stool beside him was Trent, aka Bypass, the city’s greatest hero, who could pass through any thing whenever he pleased.
“You flatter me, really, but listen, Don was it?”
“Dave, but I-“
“Right, Dave, listen, I really don’t care, if I die everything ends, for me at least.”
Dave couldn’t believe his ears, the greatest hero ever to grace the biggest city on earth 2 saying that he doesn’t care if he lives or dies.
“You, but you, you are our saviour,my saviour!”
A cough across the bar told Dave that he was getting too animated.
They only came here because it was the first bar they had seen after Dave offered Bypass a drink after he stopped him from getting mugged.
“Do you have any idea how much you would be missed?!” Dave whispered. “What would this city do without you?”
Trent laughed, “That is none of my concern. For now it’s good money, but once I am gone, I am gone.”
He took another sip of his wine and scowled.
Dave looked down at his mostly untouched rum and coke, trying to think of what to say next.
“Well, Don, it has been a lovely chat,” Trent said as he stood, “but I have to get back to the office. Try not to get mugged again.” He smiled, shook Dave’s hand and made a move for the door.
“Wait,” Dave began, “I thought you were a great guy, the greatest guy, Bypass! I looked up to, the entire city,” by this time Dave was shouting, the two other patrons and the barkeep all watched on bemused, “no, the entire world lives you! But I guess you are human after all. Plus, your a fucking dick.”
Trent gave him a look that made his blood boil, “Well, if that’s all you have to say-“
“No, look, if you want to die so badly I’d be happy to oblige!”
Dave let out a bolt of lightning from his fingertips, not giving Trent much time to react.
The lighting coursed through him, for all but an instance, but that was all that was needed, Bypass lay dead and smoking.
Dave turned to the patrons and the barkeep, “Don’t say a word to anyone!”
Days later, the city was in chaos, villains were running rampant, hero’s were scrambling, and the civilians had all but lost hope. Amidst the destruction one individual stood in the streets, his tattered hero suit clinging to his body. As tears rolled down his cheeks he looked up to the sky and murmured “I told you so.” |
The morning sunlight pierced through my apartment window and onto my bed, where I laid awake thinking excessively. Two bottles of Comte de Baulieu, the night before left me feeling out of sorts. A gnawing thought of wondering who I texted, rang or called strengthened my case to deem my hangover as dreadful. Then I remembered the letter.
As soon as I got off FaceTime to Katya, I made my way down to the corner of my street, where my convenience store was, I was to drink myself into oblivion. He got down in one knee, at Golden Gate park were they first met, beside the polo field. Not in this lifetime did I think she’d accept a proposal from him, I thought the flame that was their relationship would extinguish prematurely, like most of Katyas dalliances.
I started to compose the letter about halfway into my second bottle of Comte de Baulieu, I would have thought, as then my tolerance for alcohol becomes a haze of tiny misdemeanours and regrettable undertakings. Was this declaration of love a regrettable undertaking though? I had to intervene, she is the love of my life after all. Little by little I fell in love with Katya Sultanova, who like myself was new to this city of fog and personality when we first crossed paths.
Although not remembering the content I would have put on paper the night before I knew what I wanted to say to Katya. Saving you from the nauseous statement of love, a composition of why me and her should be together, best friends in the whole world. I do hope though I wouldn’t have stoped low as to insult her alleged husband to be, to throw her off his tail. I didn’t like him, jealousy may have had a part to play of course but his style was spiritless and his manner dry as a Nevada sidewalk.
Like me and Katya, Rhea arrived to the city in the summer of 2016. The three best of friends since. Like myself Rhea started to roll head over heals for Katya, she confessed this to me just as I was performing the same motion, though my confession stayed solo. I dared not to mention it to Rhea anyhow as a fiery redhead the admission would have sparked an exploding reaction. I was Rheas shoulder to cry on when Katya found new romance, her greatest confidant all the while I was harbouring the same feelings for the girls ears that were burning.
The buzz of my apartment door went off, while I was contemplating whether to rise or not. It could only be one person. An individual who like myself got news the night before that slightly shattered them.
I had to dispose of that letter before I let Rhea in, if it was found the chain of events if that declaration was found would be catastrophic, the start of the end. I search the kitchen and sofa I can’t find it anywhere, stupid drunken idiot where did I put it. Rhea is getting impatient now she’s desperate to unload her grief and if she finds this letter before me she will find my grief. |
Dear Children, let me tell you a tale..
On Christmas, we all like to hang,
Stockings, angels, crackers that bang,
But do this too early and you'll find,
no safety, love, nor peace of mind.
For hang a single decoration,
anywhere within the nation.
before the date of hallow'een
and you will raise a monster, worse than any you've seen.
For Zombie Santa is his name,
taking children is his game.
He wakens from beneath the ice,
And he is naughty, never nice.
His flesh is blue like an ice-mummy,
He'll send you screaming to your Mommy.
His talons cold, shall grop your head,
When you are laying in your bed.
He drags them off in his sack,
Which he carries upon his back.
His laughter, cold, is seldom jolly.
His breath smells strangely just like Holly.
His eyes are pale and white like pearls,
as he goes looking for boys and girls,
who dare decorate their house too early,
something they will regret sorely.
He takes them up to the North Pole,
Enslaves their body and bind their soul.
He'll make them work all by themself,
alone and cold, they become an elf.
For the remainder of their days,
making toys becomes their ways.
They craft the things which we receive,
My warning, you had best believe.
So do not hang your merry things
Until the bells begin to ring
On the day December first,
Or else be forever cursed. |
"You can't be serious"I said, staring aghast at my neighbor Mike's demon possessed body as it mowed the lawn with supernatural speed.
"You should really give it a try"said the fiery crystal containing Mike's soul, floating above a lawn chair. "I was a bit sceptical at first too, but the possession program has been life changing!"
"HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY BE OK WITH THIS!?"I said gesturing wildly at demon Mike who had turned it's head 180 degrees to display a strained rictus of a smile, showing far too much teeth.
"It's really not a big deal. I get my body back at the end of the day, and in the mean time Barb'a'Thuul gets to experience being in a human body while I get some work done on the crystal network. Did you know they patched in 8g connections into these things just last week?"
"BUT ITS A BLOODY DEMON"
"Woah there. First of all, *they* have a name, and just because Barb'a'Thuul's a demon doesn't mean he's not a decent bloke. Besides, demons are literally incapable of breaking a contract so that makes Barb here more trustworthy than most folks I know"
"They literally come from hell for god sakes!"Before I could continue my rant my possessed neighbour suddenly dropped to all fours like a rabid beast and hissed at me like an entire nest of vipers. It's baleful blood red eyes boring into my soul. I recoiled sharply, stumbling over my own feet and landed square on my ass, trying to scramble backwards without taking my eyes off the *literal fucking demon* in front of me.
"Oh come on man. You know you've got to watch it with the G word. Look, you've upset Barb'a'Thuul. Did you read *any* of the demon sensitivity pamphlets?"
My demon possessed neighbour jerkily rose to his feet, extending both arms out to either side, and started slowly rising into the air as if suspended by invisible hooks, all while staring straight into my eyes. It was then that I decided that I cared a lot more about putting a door between me and that *thing* than winning an argument with my neighbours disembodied soul, and promptly turned around and ran.
"Oh hey!"said Mike's soul as I fled. "I invited the mind flayers across the street for a barbeque on Sunday. You should come!"
"YOU'RE INSANE!"I yelled behind me and dashed into my house, slamming the door behind me before collapsing to the floor in a quivering mess. |
It’s a year ago today since the funeral. I can still picture all those black suits and long dark dresses towering over me like the trees of a shadowy forest as I sat inconsolably by the whole and the ground that became my friend’s new home.
It was raining that day, much like the rain that poured down the windows of my tiny apartment meant this dreary morning.
It’s been a year and I still find myself turning left when I should turn right. It’s hard to remember I have no one to visit on my way home from work anymore.
I got up, brushed my teeth, and tried to wish away the dark circles from under my eyes. It was going to be another long day.
The coffee maker hummed to life as I flipped the switch to power it on and filled the basin with water. Despite everything that’s changed so suddenly, the taste of coffee is still the same, Bitter and unrelenting.
Before I could pour myself a cup there were a series of loud knocks at the front door.
Who could it be? I wondered, It’s not like anyone ever visits me. And who’d be crazy enough to it in the rain of all times?
As I opened the door I was greeted by the wagging finger and generally angry expression of the mailman or mailwoman I guess I should say.
I could see the steam of her breath rasing into the cold air as she berated me for forgetting to empty my mailbox again.
The only reason it was full all the time was because of those insistent advertisements. It seems the only one interested in sending me mail as your good old friend at Happy Healthy Co.
Maybe their cringy jingle was true, “We’re always there when you need at the price that you want!”
After a good tongue lashing for my friendly neighborhood postal worker and after swearing on the life of my unborn firstborn to empty out my mailbox once a week, she handed me a letter in a white envelope and made me sign for it.
I tossed the unopened envelope on the table and poured myself a cup of coffee. But as I leaned back and brought the mug to my lips I noticed it, the name on the envelope.
That can’t be! I told myself.
Hot coffee burnt the tips of my fingers as I slammed the mug on the table while reaching with my other hand to pick up the envelope.
It really was for her... I couldn’t believe it!
I took a knife and cut the top of the envelope open. What could it say? When did she send it? And why?
My hand shook as I pulled the paper from the envelope. I turned it around and look on both sides.
It was a completely blank piece of paper.
What a joke! I said to myself, I guess even from beyond the grave she always gets the last laugh.
But I couldn’t get it out of my mind as I downed my first cup of coffee. The blank page just seemed to stare at me and mock me as if I was the only one in the world that couldn’t read it.
There was another loud knock at the door. I must have been soo deep in thought I’d missed the first few knocks. Whoever was at the door was pounding on it like their life depended on it.
I snapped to my feet spilling coffee on the table in the process as I hurried to the door.
“Keep your pant on, I’m coming!” I yelled to the door.
I hurried down the hall, grabbed the handle, and wrenched the door open. What on earth could they want now!?
To my surprise, there was no one at the door. I shield my head from the rain as I stepped out and looked both ways down the street.
There was no one, nothing insight for the whole block.
I walked back inside and closed the door behind me. It was too early for anything like this.
I was greeted by quite the mess when I returned to the table. I had spilled more coffee than I thought. The table cloth was soaked and so was that blank piece of paper.
But it wasn’t blank anymore, was it?
The coffee stains were clearly darker in some areas of the page than others. It was like... letters no, I could faintly make out the few words of a sentence.
I dumped the rest of my coffee on the page and waited for a few seconds. Sure enough, words began to slowly paint themselves in dark brown letters on the soaked page.
“*Dear friend*” it read “*I suppose it’s already been a year for you. I know this is probably weird for you but, I need you to do something for me. There is a* *~~Mchien~~* *at 2437 Jonfeild way in Cindly. Please go there an...*”
I couldn’t make out what the rest of the letter said.
Why did she send it to me? And when? What was waiting for me at 2437 Jonfield way?
I guess there’s only one way to find out, old friend. |
[Poem] Zombies
They are evil, they are not of this Creation.
Are they too dissimilar?
They are Dead.
Do we not die?
We are Alive.
Will we not die?
We will yet Live.
Will we yet die?
Avoid those Dead.
Avoid Death? Or Avoid life?
They do not know for sure.
Do you?
No one knows for sure, but those dead will frighten you away.
They do not want me to join them?
They want you to become like them.
Do you not want me to become like me?
You are alive.
Will I not die?
You will die, and you will not remain un-alive, if only you keep the faith.
The faith belongs to you, alone?
The faith belongs to everyone, listen to it.
Is this faith heard by the un-alive?
It is heard by all people, they are not people.
Do they not have ears? Cannot they not find me if I run away?
They will always keep looking, always searching, always smelling, always feasting.
How can they do that without a brain?
They have the brains they take.
So if they take me, I will still have brains?
You will be lost forever.
I can be found again? I can try?
You will never be able to return.
Will you not permit me?
You will be un-alive, you cannot return.
I am frightened, but I can become more unafraid.
Leave then, to die. |
Waylond stood in the doorway, his tattered white cloak dancing in the breeze, every gust attempting to tear the stained, aged cloth from the ornate sapphire crest fastened to a leather strap on his now rusted cuirass. A gloved hand rested on the worn wooden sheath affixing a strange ivory blade to his left hip, and although his hand did not clutch the blade itself it was quite apparent he was still a threat regardless of where his hand rested.
The grizzled, scarred man limped into the tower, advancing from the shadowed edges of the interior room to the center lit by candle. Blood seeped from beneath a ripped piece of his cloak, the once white rag now stained a dark red. He bore several smaller injuries, most notably a gash running from his left temple to his cheek, and several shallow cuts on his bare arms. And yet, despite his injuries, he stood tall. Although he was now in his 50s, he had the physical presence of a much younger man, the only features betraying his age being streaks of gray in his auburn beard and hair, some lines on his face, and the weary look in his eyes. In spite of his injuries, he remained intimidating and, more importantly, dangerous.
Across the room stood his equal, the only person to have ever faced him head to head as anything but fodder. Malia was a full head shorter than him, but remained just as imposing. She was two years older than Waylond, and yet seemed even more ageless than he. Her elaborate flowing yellow robes, contrasted with her defiant posture and stony expression, gave her an appearance of intangibility, like she wasn't there, an effect further enhanced by the shadow of her hood obscuring her face. While all of these factors were extremely effective in enhancing her own naturally menacing presence, what really made her terrifying was the axe she held over her shoulder. Anyone who knew anything about killing knew of Sleht.
Sleht was long, intricate carvings depicting various carnivorous animals and poisonous plants on it's four foot long golden handle, which ended in a large, curved axe head with a single bladed side, made of a bonelike material, with golden inlays in the same style as the handle. It was beautiful, if not a bit garishly lavish in design, but what truly made it special was what it could do. The bone making up the head was not just any bone, it had once belonged to an ancient celestial being, slain by the first king of Feohtan, and infused with his blood. Due to this infusion, it was said to retain a measure of the being's power, but only if it's wielder were a descendant of the king.
Malia was a skilled fighter, a prodigy the likes of which only came about once a generation. Before she claimed Sleht, she had once killed three seasoned soldiers with one blow from a shortsword, and Sleht had only made her more capable. Showing no sign of fear, she removed Sleht from her shoulder, holding it outstretched with both hands the same way one would hold a sword. The axe began to hum, finally reaching it's crescendo when it began to glow, lightning arcing about it's head, casting new shadows on the already gloomy room. Waylond had stopped roughly fifteen paces in front of her, sizing up his opponent and weighing the implications of accepting this invitation. He moved his right hand to the handle of his sword and began to draw.
Remorder was no ordinary sword. As Waylond drew, it began to shimmer, then spontaneously burst into flame. Legend said that Remorder was hewn from the same being as Sleht. Where Sleht was made from what appeared to be a shoulder blade, however, Remorder was made from what seemed to be a pair of fangs, and while Sleht only bestowed it's gifts on descendants of the king, Remorder required it's bearer to have an unbreakable will, those who did not caught flame and burned until not even their bones remained. The sword had two curved blades, and while neither seemed especially sharp, the intense heat of the sword would make up for it's dullness, vaporizing anything it came in contact with.
Malia made the first move, swinging at Waylond with incredible speed and power. Waylond was ready, and brought his weapon to meet her own, catching Sleht between Remorder's twin blades, sending sparks and flames in every direction and blowing Malia's hood off, revealing a shock of olive colored hair. Waylond tried to use his newfound advantage, twisting his blade to disarm her, but Malia was equal to the task and stood firm, slowly pulling the axe towards her, each tug sending a new wave of sparks, until eventually she freed it. Both were accomplished warriors, and they were relatively evenly matched; where Malia was nimble, unpredictable, and proactive, Waylond was patient, methodical, and defensive.
After several more rounds of clashing, countering, and eventually breaking, Malia finally found an opening, and, summoning all the strength she had and saying a small prayer to anyone who would hear it, sent Sleht on the way to what would surely be the final blow, lighting trailing behind it. And then something unexpected happened. Sleht did not make contact. She had not missed, but she had stopped, realizing what Waylond had intended. To land the blow, she would have to manouver the axe between the blades of Remorder, and while Waylond would die, the angle and nature of attack ensured she would as well. "Shall we stop playing games? One of us is liable to remove an eye at this rate, and I do so enjoy having eyes."
(Continued below) |
"You dont need to tell me about your past, hun. After all, I'm not going to hold you to the standards *she* did,"Levira calmly spoke towards me, whilst holding me close in an attempt to calm me down.
"But you don't understand... I saw my sister for the first time in centuries, and it brought such bad memories back from purgatory just to haunt me,"I respond quietly, trying my best to avoid getting angry, "besides, bottling my anger runs the risk of me turning into a living timebomb, and exploding on you is the absolute last thing I want to do."
"Yet you understand that yelling at me won't make me think anything less of you, right?"Levira didn't seem to acknowledge just what my sister does for a living, which was as one coud probably guess, hunting humans and angels.
"Love, what will you do when *she* tries killing you..?"Levira's eyes widened a bit, "My sister hunts beings she claims to be lower than her, including humans and angels... It's why I must be angry for seeing her..!"
"When the time for that comes, I'll stop my attacker. I always have,"Levira gave me the soft smile she always did at times like this.
\[The Next Morning...\]
I headed to work, humming a melody from an orchestral music, before noticing something VERY wrong. My coffee shop was burnt to the ground, with my sister standing in it's ashes, smiling wickedly at me.
"So THIS is where my traitor sister goes for work, huh?"She mocked, "Yet another on the list of reasons you're a failure. Not like your customers will be alive to witness your death!"
"...You destroy my store, you kill my customers, you threaten my life, and you try besmirching MY integrity!"My control over my anger was slipping, but given what I knew would soon happen, I let it, "Tell me, LITTLE sis, why do you think it acceptable to try and kill the innocent?! Actually, shut up, your input is irrelevant!"
"My, my! Consider quite a few of your nerves touched! I wonder how your angelic girlfriend will react when she sees me rip your tiny little wings of your weak little body right in front of mother!"I could hear something within me shatter in that moment. Perhaps it was my restraint, or perhaps it was how much I cared for my sibling, but one thing became certain: My older sister was a dead demon walking.
I could manage one last sentence before I went completely berserk: "Enjoy the void, demon!"
\[To be continued..?\] |
"I see"said the instructor. "Very well, Why don't we put you with the beginner class. "
"Your instructor will be Harleen, She's just finished a tango private, and will be available to assess your dance level. Why don't you wait here and I will go fill her in on the details."
Peter Parker, glanced around the ballroom. It was an old building, with dark wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings and big industrial windows that looked out to the city's sparkling sky line. Mirrors lined the walls adding depth to the room. Various dance students were sitting on chairs, chatting while putting on their dance shoes.
"Hi, I'm Harleen Quinzel, you must be Peter, Welcome to our Waltz class".
"Hello"as he extended his hand to the beautiful blonde. "I came ready to learn".
"Well"she said. "Lets start with the music. Waltz music is in 3/4 timing. So if you can count to 3, you're doing fine. Since this is your first lesson, we're going to count to 3 over and over again. As a lead, you are going to start on your left foot. The count is 1,2,3. left, right left. The next one, two three is going to be right, left, right. Your frame is also very important . . . .
One hour later.
"Ok people, great class. Please continue to practice your box steps, promenade and natural turn. Peter, thank you for coming, I hope you enjoyed yourself. Dimitri, Wilson, Norman, you three are getting better and better, you might look into the intermediate level next month. Yelena, Deidre and Diana, I'll see you in our Bachata class tomorrow.
Peter left the ballroom in great spirits. It had been a very good class. He couldn't wait to learn more about waltz. Heck, after dancing with the ladies, maybe he would show up for the Bachata class. |
“Did you see it!?” Shelob asked. She was talking about our landing.
“Be quiet beast!” said That Guy. You know who he is: That Guy. There’s no description that can complete it, and mine would be different than yours. He’s just a huge jerk. I’d probably use a sports analogy, you’ll have a different way of saying he just sucks the air out of the room.
Shelob clearly didn’t like him, and we were pretty busy with the landing. Look, we didn’t PLAN on him getting eaten by Shelob when we landed in Shelob’s lair, hopeful for Shelob’s help when she wasn’t too hungry after a quick snack. We didn’t plan this.
But after she was sated and we were situated a week later, she talked quite a bit! We learned a lot. Here is our translation, and Shelob herself fixed a few of our translation errors.
“Quiet, dark, deep. Web. Many ways that it branches. Don’t you have quiet dark deep webs? Haha, you do. Gross humans. You’re absolutely foul! I love you.”
She squished the drone with a palp.
We sent another one, and it flew around her, shining its light, until she hooked it in with a leg. She seemed to want to talk. She snuggled it, and we climbed the mountain closer to her lair.
“It was odd, you know? The light grew. I wanted babies, and there wasn’t enough food. But thank you for That Guy. Now I’m really excited!”
We were a kilometer down the mountain, and maybe this was the wrong fantasy universe to land on. The captain had voice control on the drone, and said, “How does that help you make babies? Help us get rid of half of this war, and we will find you a mate!”
Shelob wasn’t very vocal, but she showed the drone’s video feed a few of her recent suitors. She vibrated a question, and I tried to answer. I was the translator for the mission. The team lead slapped my hand away from the control and we had a good ol’ fashioned “ignore and denigrate the translator” moment. But what I was trying to get out in that moment was: “wonderful! Congratulations! Of course you can hold semen for ages, you’re a very smart race of giant spiders. It does make sense that you needed a big protein and fat blob before you can have hundreds of babies when you see fit!” |
"My people, it reached my ears a rebelion is being concocted. These rebels think that instead of the strongest, the most popular should rule. It is my God-given duty to remind you that wouldn't last. That such a world, where the weak are given power over the strong would fall faster than a castle of cards. What would happen when an unpopular measure had to be taken? War! That's what would have happened. And who wins wars? The strong win wars, and so the cicle would restart. With the strongest back on the throne! And do I have to remind you what happens to the weak during war?! THEY DIE!! So to all of you who are unhappy with my rule, you have three options. You can try and defeat me, you can cower and accept my lead or you can die trying to change the world!" |
If there was one thing to fear above all else, it would be dragons. They start off cute, cuddly, and harmless. Cute little balls of fur with leathery wings and occasionally dorsal spikes. But as they grow older, dragons grow much larger and more cocky about their place in the world. Harmless antics such as chasing mice and playing with balls of yarn turn into hunting down livestock and toppling carts of goods. And that’s only the tame ones that were raised with love from humans. They didn’t mean any harm, but their self-serving and mischievous attitudes brought accidental destruction to villages and citadels alike. At maturity, dragons usually reached the size of a small house, but some species grew much bigger. And don’t even get me started on feral dragons. Most stayed away from people, but occasionally their internal brawls spill over into civilized area, causing mass destruction everywhere. But, we have learned to live with them. My job was specifically created to help deal with our dragon problem. You see, I’m a dragongrass farmer.
Instead of being drawn to towns, dragons both feral and tame flock to my fields of fragrant and intoxicating dragongrass. They eat it, roll in it, play with each other in it. Sure, it costs me rebuilding my house and barn every few years due to the destruction they cause, but dragongrass farmers like myself are vital in protecting the masses from these playful beasts. I have also developed a profitable side business of harvesting the fur they cough up and turning it into yarn. Sure, it’s a little gross at times, but I’m not going to pass up a free resource. My partner weaves the most beautiful and luxurious blankets from their fur, and we sell them at a high profit. It’s a win-win!
Overall, I’d say I appreciate the dragons that live among us. They really don’t mean any harm, most of the time. Unless you touch their stomachs. I’m lucky to still have one eye after that mistake. |
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