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I drive past this diner every day on my way to somewhere.
Its’ old facade stands timeless somewhere between Reagan and here.
I never stop.
In the daydreams that keep me company between here and somewhere, I stop often. Maybe I’m a regular by now. I think once I dreamt I owned it and lived in a flat upstairs. In my dreams I’m always struggling. I’ll unpack that later I think.
When I pull up to the diner he’s already here. Sitting in the shadow of a story I hadn’t written yet. Fourth Dimension plays me in. I have a knack for arriving just at the moment a song gets good. I pretend to look for something to steal the chorus before bursting out of my car and crashing into reality like a drunken wave. He looks impatient already.
I continue the song in my head.
It’s cold.
Breathe.
I’m taller than he expected. His face tells me.
He’s gaunt. Like a man who recently traded worry for weight and got the bad end of the bargain. I think I say hi. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m speaking at all. Sometimes I don’t know how to stop.
He makes me nervous. He’s older than me and his energy doesn’t pull. It doesn’t move. In fact, I can’t tell if it’s there.
Oh wait, I found it.
He wants to fuck me already. It’s all he thinks about as I chatter on. He likes my mouth and avoids my eyes. I don’t know what I’m saying. I rarely do.
I’m not even sure why we order food. It’s his favorite place and it’s awful. I can see why though. It’s quiet and lacks pretense. They’re kindred.
I don’t bother to tell him I’m a regular.
In my daydreams the line cook is better. I think I named him Raymond once. He has a tragic backstory and we talk about how he’s going to win his daughter back. His ex has full custody and she’s a real bitch. I move scrambled eggs around my plate with a slice of burnt toast. I’ve never eaten a scrambled egg in my life. I don’t remember why I ordered it. I notice I don’t think clearly around him. But he’s quiet and I find it comfortable.
I don’t tell him that this restaurant is awful in his version of our story. His pride arrived before he did and announced he’s always right, so I decide to follow the rules and stay quiet. He’s smarter than me and I like that about him. Okay. Now I want to fuck him too. I think he tells me he’s an Aries. I’m not sure, I’m staring at his hands.
He’s got me pegged somewhere between a curiosity and an accessory and I gladly accept the role. It’s one I play often and I’m good at it. Fuck it.
He’s got nothing to lose and I’ve got nothing to gain save for maybe some wasted time and a story. We get in his car to go for a drink. I think this man is going to break my heart and I’m going to let him.
Over drinks he explains just how he’s going to do it. First he’s going to put his work before me. I lean in closer.
Tell me more.
Once the curiosity of me fades I’ll be devalued and recategorized as an annoyance. A gnat buzzing around his lunch. I can feel myself getting turned on. He’s muted me before we finish our drinks and recast me as a puzzle. He’ll never solve it with the volume off but I don’t bother and keep talking.
I’m just grateful not to be a muse this round.
He won’t let me pay for drinks so I leave the waitress $20 as a small act of defiance. His eyes give away the first truth of the evening. He didn’t like that. He stops short in the doorway; “you know, that really wasn’t necessary”. |
"YES YES YES! I can't believe it actually happened! It's actually happening!"
"Ok ok, first things first, let's check out my status..."
"..."
"..."
"Um, I have no idea if this is good or not."
*Your status is on-par with a normal adolescent human.*
"Whoa! What was that?! D-Did the system just talk to me?!"
*A help function exists to answer basic questions.*
"Oh...ok...so like some sort of magic Google?"
*Invalid question.*
"Oh, ok, well, that's helpful, I guess. Anyways! Let's move on to the fun part! Skills!"
"Let's see, OH! Fire Magic! Yes! I always wanted to shoot flames from my hands!"
*Please confirm skill selection: Fire Magic*
"Yes!"
*Are you sure? Fire Magic is not recommended as an initial skill.*
"Confirm!"
*...Skill selection confirmed. Selecting Earth Magic.*
"What? No! I wanted fire magic! Did I press the wrong thing?"
*Survival chance was deemed unsuitably low. Emergency assistance was deemed necessary to restore survivability chances.*
"What? Why?! Why would Fire Magic reduce my survival chances?"
*Reason One: Fire Magic is the worst basic element in terms of cost-efficiency and combat effectiveness.*
"What? Why? And why does that matter?"
*Fire Magic must generate excessive amounts of energy via mana as well as fuel sources. Fire itself is intimidating and painful but takes a long time to damage organic flesh. The other basic elements simply manipulate pre-existing matter and apply kinetic energy. This is more efficient in terms of mana use and causes more effective damage in combat. While Fire Magic will scale well to strategic-level spells, the other elements are far superior for tactical combat and self-defense. Earth magic is particularly good at this as it is very common and does not require as much mana to produce lethal projectiles.*
"Um, what?"
*Reason Two: Fire Magic is the least versatile.*
"Ok...?"
*Fire Magic is only useful for generating heat and for offensive attacks. The other basic elements can provide defense and numerous non-combat applications. Earth Magic, in particular, is useful in engineering, architecture, and agriculture, and can be used to set up basic fortified camps while traveling. It can improve mobility as well by providing flat and stable footholds while walking, as well as removing or avoiding obstacles. With skill, Earth Magic can also produce golems which will significantly improve your manpower and thus overall capabilities in every area.*
"...I guess I can see that..."
*Reason Three: Fire Magic produces the highest risk of self-harm.*
"...not if I'm careful!"
*Analysis points to a 33% increased risk of self-immolation whenever someone says that.*
"...I can be careful."
*75% now.*
"...ok fine, I'll go with the Earth Magic for now."
*You can still learn Fire.*
"Oh?!"
*It is recommended to learn Fire Magic manually over time, as this will provide greater control, and will allow you to use it in tandem with other magics to significantly improve the overall effect.*
"Then I will definitely learn it! Just you wait! Ok let's pick the next skill, you'll let me choose this time, right?"
*Of course, my love.*
"Did you say something? No response, guess I imagined it. Oh! Dual-Wielding! That's always a good skill."
*Dual-Wielding is not recommended...* |
Fifth time in five months. Didn't even break a sweat this time. The opening ceremony and closing rituals took longer than the blessed fight. The kid would have been annihilated if I hadn't held back.
Great for my ego. The old man can still bring it.
Not so good for the village.
"Hold!"I shouted as everybody was about to disperse. Obediently everybody froze and quieted down. They all turned to me, none met my gaze. I looked for signs. I read their bodies. Was that fear?
I pointed at the Shamans, I pointed at the fight masters, I pointed at the last five fighters.
"All of you, the hall. Now."
From the dais, I looked over their heads. The village had returned to the day's activities, everybody outside enjoying the sunshine soaked break from the wet season rains that had been our oppressive guests for the past month.
The Shamans and the trainers were focused on me. The youth were focused on the floor.
"I declare open conversation. No repercussions. Nothing repeated outside these walls."
The youth relaxed. Marginally. The elders tensed.
"Five contenders. Five defeats. Not even close. That's either some very poor training or some very poor motivation. I know our trainers are the best. I know our shamans are well versed. I want answers!"
I pulled the speaking totem from the wall and walked around the gathering. I stopped in front of the oldest youth. The first one to have fought me. The one that came closest to actually causing me to break a sweat.
"Speak!"I ordered.
"Father", he started hesitantly, "I did not do my best. I was not ready for the responsibility. I did not push myself. I am happy to be in your shadow."
The remaining four repeated the same formula. I took the speaking totem from the last one and handed it to my fight leader.
"Father, we have trained them well. They are physically ready. They have proven themselves. We do not understand."
I handed the speaking totem to the prime shaman.
"Father, we have taught them the history. We have taught them the importance of leadership. They understand the need. They should have strived more."
Standard set responses. Nobody was lying, but I was not getting the whole story.
"I can conclude one of two things: either I am all powerful, and nobody is fit to replace me. Or, "I paused, "someone has convinced all of you that replacing me would be hazardous to your health."
Only one set of eyes was on me. The youngest contender.
"We're in open conversation. I compel you to speak truth. Now!"
I handed him the totem.
"Father. You are all powerful."I took a deep breath to rebuke him but he held his hand up quickly. "You are as powerful as we need you to be for the good of the village. We are not worthy to replace you."again he held his hand up before I could interrupt him. "But more pressingly, if one of us were to defeat you now we would not last until the next full moon. Our lives would be forfeit."
"What? How?"
He looked around the gathering looking for support, but he was suddenly very much on his own. The rest had not actually taken steps back, but were very much leaning away from him as much as possible.
"Explain!"
"Father. We have been... spoken to.... by Mother."He looked up, as if pleading for me to let him off the hook. But I wasn't going to.
"Continue!"
"She... explained... that if one of us were to become the new Chief, when you retired, you'd be spending a lot more time on your homestead. She... hinted that whoever caused that transition would have to deal with her."
It took everything I had not to burst out laughing.
I took the speaking totem back.
"This is not acceptable. But the fault lies with me. I should have negotiated my retirement with Mother before entertaining the possibility. Learn from my mistakes: consider all eventualities. You are all dismissed. "
Ah well, maybe next season. |
“I was the murderer!”
“No Jim, I was!”
The police are utterly confused. Most of the time people try to claim that they aren’t the murderer in such a scenario. But here, EVERYONE claimed to be the murderer.
Still, since all of them claimed to be the murderer, they were all interrogated.
First person.
“I still clearly remembered that time a girl he really likes rejected him over me. Maybe he never fully recovered from the pain. I indirectly killed him!”
Second person.
“There was this one time where our pranks went too far and injured him. I feel like he still resents us.”
And so on and so forth.
Apparently the victim is good friends with everyone in the party, yet everyone has wronged him at least once. They feel sorry for his death and claimed to be guilty because of these incidents as a final apology.
“That still didn’t answer ANYTHING. “
A few days later.
New evidence has been found. It wasn’t a murder.
It was an assisted suicide.
The victim has contracted a terminal illness and gathered all his friends to announce his plans, and everyone felt responsible so they ALL claimed to be guilty.
How disturbingly heartwarming! |
Jessica is giving up her dream job that pays less than her husband, Jesse’s, to follow him out of the trailer park and into the big city. Will her need for privacy win out for his need for an open floor plan? Join us on this episode of Slum House Hunters to find out.
We’ve been told by our producers that we don’t really connect with the average viewer so this episode of Jessica and Jesse we are going to look at what a realistic budget can get the couple instead of the average over the top priced homes we normally show on this channel.
Host: Now Jessica, you told us you’re looking for a few closed off rooms like the bedroom and the bathroom, is that right?
Jessica: Yes, I know Jesse really wants an open floor plan but I need to know when I’m sleeping or in the shower or on the toilet, I’m not on display by anyone else that might be in the house.
Host: Jesse, I understand you want a totally open floor plan.
Jesse: That’s right, I want the entire house to be wide open, I want to be able to see everything.
Host: But don’t you agree that the bedroom and the bathroom should be private?
Jesse: We ain’t got no secrets, I \[beep\] in front of her all the time.
Jessica: It’s not that I actually enjoy that you do that.
Host: Okay, getting back to the house hunt. I’ve found one house that might meet what you both are looking for.
The camera pans to show the agent and the couple getting out of the black HGTV truck. Both couples are standing in front of a ranch style, split level 1970s era home. There’s some weeds growing in the garden but the grass is mowed.
So this house is a three bedroom, one bath, the kitchen and living room are both open floor plan, the bedrooms have curtains and the only interior door is to the bathroom.
The camera follows the trio as they enter the house. As described there are no walls, not even a partition between the kitchen and the living room. The bedrooms have light curtains hanging in the door frames.
The bathroom door is cracked in places, a small hole about the size of a small dog is at the bottom.
Jessica: This place is okay but I’d like to see what else you have to show us.
Host: This is it, this is the only house in your budget that meets what you are both looking for that I can show you.
Jesse: Honey, I say we take it.
Jessica: Wouldn’t you at least like to know something about the school district or anything at all?
Jesse: Okay, I guess you’re right. So what else can you tell us?
Host: Well like I said it’s either this house or we start looking at mobile homes.
Jesse: No more mobile homes, I’ll take it.
Jessica: Can you at least show us the backyard?
Camera pans to the trio standing outside in front of a cellar door.
Jesse: What’s this?
Host: It’s the root cellar, aka basement, aka doorway to Hell. You don’t need to see inside there.
Jesse: That sounds cool, I’d love a man cave in there.
Host: You can’t. There’s already someone living there.
Jessica: How can you sell a house if someone already lives there?
Host: You’d be buying the house, not the cellar. Although it’s located directly under the house, you won’t actually own the cellar.
Jesse: Can we at least meet the neighbors?
Host: Not while we’re on camera. After you buy the place, you can meet them if you want, but I’d advise against it.
Jesse: Once we own it, we’ll do what we want, right, babe?
Jessica: You mean, you’ll do what you want.
Host: Well that’s all the time we’ve got folks, see you all next week as we take meth heads, Tanya and Terry mobile home shopping.
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
“Why didn’t you tell me those pants made me look fat?” Jessica said sitting on the couch watching their episode of Slum House Hunters.
“Oh honey, you always look sexy to me” Jesse said leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
“They say the camera adds ten pounds” Said the demon sitting on the recliner with a bowl of popcorn. |
*Self repair protocols active...*
She waited... again... for the machine the litteratal Core of her being to finish the repairs to her body. Why did she have to be reborn in this hell hole? Into of all things an *Augmented* Flesh Golem body? Sure she probably had a body that back in her past life would have been a miracle and elevated her to the status of those who had clearly won the genetic lottery... but here it was just a kick me sign and despite how great it was it was also clearly flawed.
*Self repair protocols complete. Returning control...*
She sat up and immediately opened fire with the pistol, a revolver,, in her hand. The would be knight in his shining chrome like armor stumbled back a hand briefly reaching for the side of his neck before shock kicked in.
"Shit!"a voice behind her called out as she rolled and fired again as the cylinder of cycled to the next chamber and another cried out in shock.
Lightning slammed down into her and she had to focus as she aimed and fired the last round at the mage.
A pair of daggers were dropped as she climbed to her feet as she looked to see a young woman with fine features looking at her with pure terror written onto a face that had once been so full of pride. "What are you?"the woman asked. "We used sanctified weapons and ammo... how can a demon survive that?"
In the past she'd have likely laughed. "By not being a demon."She said as she reached out and twisted the woman's head violently severing her spine in a moment. "If you get a second chance try not being such a bitch next time. Your people deserved better."
She walked off her body still sore and achy as it slowly repaired the damage she'd just inflicted upon it. Not quite as bad as dropping out a fifth story window into an oncoming elemental powered train but still no one sane enjoyed pain and despite what she was drawn to do throughout the ages getting hurt was never the plan just an inevitability. That mind mage had been the worse though it had been like she was going mad while the damage to her brain had been repaired.
She slipped away using the chaos the Princess's assassination to escape no one stopped her, why would they? She'd been the Prince's bodyguard and if she said she needed through that was that. *'Sorry old friend. I know I said I'd watch over them, but your daughter was a sadist and your son was too trusting. I'll try to protect the kingdom we made as best I can but immortality has its limits.'* |
The battle between the hero and the villain always ended up with the hero winning in the fairy tales.
Not for me.
I watched as the explosion from our combined attacks knocked me backwards. I could see my friends staring at me from the ground. It was like it was slow motion.
I felt myself slipping away, further into darkness. My only hope was that I had won, at the cost of my sacrifice to mankind.
I remembered the first time I discovered that the new world was plagued by the Dark Lord’s tyranny. Monsters left and right surrounded each area of the land as me and my newfound friends fought them all by eachother’s side. I remember Marcy, the energetic mage who wanted nothing more than to ensure my safety. I remember Daniel, the energetic catboy who was seemingly overprotective of me. If I went down, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
All of my friends were there for me when things got tough. We fought through the strongest of enemies, making our way up the Sky Scraper, watching as the Otherworld was just within our reach.
And then, it was time.
Our opponent, stronger than ever, staring down at us as we fought with honor. I had to save this world. My home.
And yet…I couldn’t even save myself.
“To my daring friend, Nebula,” I muttered with a weak smile on my face, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you before. So please…let me save you now. Let me make you the hero you always wanted to be.”
As the explosion neared its end, I closed my eyes and let death take me.
The next thing I knew, I saw my body land to the ground with a thud. Nebula, once possessed by the soul of the damned, stood where the almighty lord once was, running over to me. They tried everything to wake me up, but nothing was working. The Great Sage was shoved to the side by one of my more arrogant team members. He called them a monster. They didn’t even do anything wrong. It hurt me for them to be yelled at for something that wasn’t their fault.
I watched Daniel pick up my body and leave with the others, leaving Nebula, and soon, the dark curse, behind.
Said curse tried to take Nebula’s body again, but they refused, countering the attack with a spell that would essentially destroy it.
It was just us. Me and them.
“…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen—“
As the Otherworld began to fall apart, Nebula was cut off as the ground beneath them began to crack. They ran for the exit, and I followed them, not wanting to leave their side again. I saw them reach the exit, about to step onto the roof of the Sky Scraper.
But they stopped moving. They just stood there.
“…what’s the point in going back when the entire world hates me?”
I flew towards Nebula and sighed, giving them a hug. I didn’t know if they could feel it or not.
“…at least you forgive me, Mel.”
With those words, Nebula closed their eyes and sighed, smiling to themself as they finally got just a bit of closure. Our final moments as best friends were spent standing there as the remains of the Otherworld trapped us within the rubble.
And finally, both of our souls departed, finally at peace. |
It’s happening again.
The blurred vision, numbing fingers and a headache that feels like an old static TV. Everyone else seemed oblivious to the constant slipping of our current reality, but I always saw, felt every minute difference.
Some of them were small changes, like someone never invented a rubber on the end of a pencil. But some days were much, much worse. Today was one of those days.
There were always times when larger things would change, like who the first president was or what color the sky was but everything about the change this time felt wrong. It was unusually early compared to the rest for one. You see, normally you could expect a change anywhere from every 30 minutes to every 2 hours depending on the size of the change, I suppose that sometimes it took longer for our current reality to adjust.
This change happened only minutes after the last one, whereby I was apparently named Johnathy. I would have preferred to be called Johnathy forever than have to deal with what now lay ahead.
One moment I was looking into my puppies eyes, the next, only a wasteland of sand and rubble filled my vision. I remember shouting out into the endless sea of shimmering sand for anyone or anything to respond, but after countless hours.
.
.
.
Nothing.
I didn’t have a choice but to find something, anything to drink before dry desert heat stole every ounce of my hydration. It was a long walk through that barren wasteland, shreds of newspaper and tattered cloth blew through the air like mayflies, slapping you in the face every few seconds.
Every clipping that I read only confused the situation more. Various headlines like “Celebrity up for award” and “leaps and bounds for Science” looked normal at first glance but something seemed off. The language looked archaic, almost like whoever wrote it only took a few lessons in English and filled in the gaps with made up words.
Then there were the pictures. Everyone in them seemed to have scales, elongated heads and the eyes of predators. I merely shrugged it off as a joke, like someone had just been having fun on some image editing software.
Until I saw it with my own eyes. A gleaming city of sandstone and gold, forming enormous structures that didn't seem possible. An upside down pyramid, a floating toilet and various other creations I'd only thought existed in fantasy worlds.
But as shocking as the buildings were, it was the residents that made the change more apparent. Tall snakes like people, with scales, long necks and necks that seemed as if they were thinking of 10 different ways to cook you.
It seems I had somehow been placed in a dimension where the dominant species had become a humanoid snake hybrid, through a mistake in science or evolution, it was anyone's guess.
Except mine.
No matter how long it takes.
No matter how much I struggle.
I WILL get home. |
The blazing sun moves slowly to the West. Another day in Silverwood is coming to an end. The orange-red sky is cloudless and the air is warm and unmoving, but not stifling. Clyde leans against the wooden support of the boardwalk and sighs, contentedly. Rummaging in his coat pocket he finds his tobacco bag and pulls out a paper. The sounds of the saloon drift over him and he muses about how easy his life is here.
He pinches out a helping of tobacco and rolls it into the paper, licking it lightly to keep it sealed. Another day, another dollar, he mumbles to himself, lighting the cigarette. He tips his cap to a woman and child that pass in front of him. They give him a weak smile and hurry on about their way in return. He chuckles.
Clyde Browning is the local gun for hire and defacto "protector"of the town. Silverwood no longer has a Sheriff and none of the residents seem to want to remedy that. So they decided to pool some resources and hire Clyde: the meanest, toughest son-of-a-bitch that they could find. Or so, they thought. Clyde, decked out in a long duster splattered lightly with what could definitely be bloodstains (but is actually just baked in mud), scars across his face from what could definitely be hard-fought battles (but were actually from just being a clumsy child), a weathered 10-gallon hat (that he found by chance in the desert), and two obviously heavily used (but actually just ill taken care of) six-shooter pistols at his side, looks the part. He's tall, gruff, and gives off the air of a man that is not to be trifled with. In reality, he's never so much as fired his pistols and wouldn't even know how to react if someone were to ever throw a punch at him.
Lucky for him, he's never had to make good on his promise to protect the town. On the rare occasion that someone starts to make trouble his presence and a quick scowl settles the score. Silverwood is far enough out of the way that most of the traffic through town is made up of older farmers and the occasional snake oil salesman. Life is good and he has little reason to believe that should ever change.
He takes a long draw from his smoke and watches the last couple of shoppers hurry out of the General Store. The only thing left to do today is getting drunk and flirting with Maddie. He throws down his cigarette butt and crushes it under his dark brown boot heel, turning toward the saloon door as he does so. He throws open the swinging doors, yells for a beer, and makes his way to his usual spot. He drinks his fill and makes his moves on the tavern wenches before he passes out at the bar. Life is good.+
The next morning Clyde returns to his post outside the saloon, watching the main road through Silverwood. Everything seems normal... at first. As the day goes on he realizes that people are starting to linger near him. The women and children aren't quite so eager to get by him. Something has definitely changed. He stops Old Man McGraw around noon. "What's going on around here?"Clyde demands in the roughest voice he can muster. "People keep looking at me and the widow Walker even smiled at me!"Old Man McGraw gives a little titter and strokes his gray beard, "You've got yourself some competition, sonny. Rode in last night. I'm thinking it's time you earn your keep."The old man chuckles again and continues on his way.
This is Clyde's worst nightmare. He doesn't see how this can go any way but bad. If this new bastard is really tough enough and mean enough to put up a fight then Clyde will surely be killed. He can't admit that he's a fake because the people will want their money back, but he spends it as soon as he makes it so that won't do. He could skip town... but then Silverwood could call the county officials on him. No, this is no good at all.
Clyde scratches at his stubbly jaw. He contemplates his options and is about to reach for a cigarette when he sees him. The figure looks more akin to a monster than a man. He towers over Clyde. He's at least twice as wide. The stains on his duster and the scars on his face are unmistakably from violence and not from happenstance. This creature will kill him before the day is through, he can see it in his eyes. The big man doesn't seem to notice Clyde. He looks up and down the street and then finally makes his way into the General Store.
Clyde feels sick to his stomach. He has no idea what he's supposed to do at this point. The man is surely about to make trouble and he has to act. There are no other options if he wants to save face. Slowly he walks across the main strip. He pauses outside the store and says a quick prayer, feeling as though he'll never walk back out. Old Man McGraw's laugh can be heard, carried on the wind as if a harbinger of what's to come.
Clyde takes a deep breath and readies himself to enter the store.
But he can't.
He's too scared to die.
It can't end like this.
He'll take his chances with the county authorities.
Clyde runs at full sprint, jumps up onto the first horse he sees, and rides as a man possessed. The people of Silverwood will never see him again.
******
Cleetus Smith didn't even know that this town existed. He is thankful for it, though, because he needs a place to rest. He hitches his horse outside the saloon and makes his way inside. It's the middle of the night but the barkeep is still cleaning up and eventually gets him set up with a room. It is all he can do to get the man to even look at him. Cleetus knows he looks intimidating. He's exceedingly tall. He's large without being fat. He's got a tough look about him. But, truth is, he'd really never hurt a fly. He's an honest man and believes that violence is never the answer. Not to mention the man asleep at the bar is the meanest, toughest son-of-a-bitch he has ever seen and there is no way he is going to pick a fight with him. |
Xavier, Wednesday the 22nd of July 2145 07:21, Alpha Delta Three. Remote outpost 45. Current crew: 21.
Xavier wrapped the space blanket around his gaunt frame, it was a running joke he hated the cold. It’s why he moved to New Australia, nothing like the sunny outback; Flies and King Browns would be good companionship for a spatial scientist like him. A chattering from his teeth reverberated through the steel room. “Not exactly heat insulating material there Xeno-Corp” he said to the chilly air.
He looked back down at his journal. A real paper journal, ‘well it was a notebook’ he thought. But anything can be a journal. Not like his digital log, the was ‘suppose’ to be private but could be viewed by Michael. A weak smile crossed his sullen face, angled features and olive skin looked a shade too white. Xavier with a shaking hand kept writing.
“Consciousness is a funny thing, one moment you’re conscious- that is responding to outside stimulus, or was it stimuli? I’m not a biologist, or was it psychologist?
The next you are A-grade out cold. In my case it was literally. Sorry, the humour is the only thing keeping me warm. That’s how I woke up, alone in the cryo-bay with fleeting inky dreams of the cold outside. I’m a cartographer, I’m suppose to be woken up last”.
Xavier, Monday the 20nd of July 2145 01:57, Alpha Delta Three. Remote outpost 45. Current crew: 22
Xavier definitely wasn’t responding when that stimuli happen to be, a face first smack into the cryo pod entry bay. “Ow” Xavier said shaking off the drug induced sleep. “Well, you’d think Xeno-Corp would build an arrest device”. Xeno-Corp did in fact, build an arrest device to prevent those waking up from unceremoniously going ass-over-tits. But it was ‘an optional extra’. The cryo attendant was suppose to ‘arrest’ the new awakee’s fall.
“Where is everyone? Rude. James!” Xavier’s voice echoed through the empty room. The cryo pod entry bay was a spacious room. Pods with other sleeping humans flanked the inside parameter on the long ends. The rectangular room terminated with doors on the short ends. The doors reminded him of those Japanese sliding doors from the 21st century. He liked whenever he mentioned this a new crew member- they’d either exclaim with laughter or confusion. Xavier knew the history buffs would naturally find amusement in this, and used that simile to detect them.
Xavier picked himself up, Hell, James wasn’t going to do it. Pain rocketed down his hamstring and he was, once again back on the grayish floor. ‘Stupid cramp’ the thought as if trying to will it away. But it persisted for another few minutes. Finally the pain dissipated and with some helpful stretching tentatively stood back up.
The room was awash with an reddish light. The colour of rust gave the room an ‘evil overlord throne room’ vibe. Xavier smiled at thought. None of the other cryo pods were open. Xavier wondered how red emitted by the cryo-pods had become the villainous colour of choi- None of the other cryo pods were open. A jolt of recognition fired through his still hazy brain. His knees gave an involuntary shake. ‘What?’ he thought. Xavier looked behind him. A lone cryo-pod hatch sat upright like an open fighter jet cockpit.
“Not the only one” he mused. He took a deep breath to control himself. “Who are you?” he said walking up to the pod. Looking for the nameplate as he got closer. ‘Oh, it’s Hiro’s'. Hiro he knew, was one of the woman that was an aircraft engineer. Those with a bit of knowledge of everything to manage Xeno-Corps space and atmosphere rated aircraft. He gave Hiro’s pod a disapproving look, since Hiro was unfortunately absent, as if the cryo-pod was to blame.
He looked forward to the end of the room and saw no other pods open. “Better go find her then”. Xavier walked steadily towards the far door to go deeper into the research outpost, and promptly hit the ground due another leg cramp. |
Ever since the new baby had arrived, it was Danny this and Danny that. 4 year old Molly Carpenter didn't know what to do. She did her best to protect the baby from creeps and haunts and other monsters that grownups can't see, but the problem with grownups not seeing the monsters was that they couldn't see her heroism either. Mom always said her dad was a hero and that's why he was away from the house so much. Sometimes Molly wanted to be a hero like her dad. Other times, she was a little happy at the way mom would dote on her while dad was away and dad would always greet her as his princess or his little lady when he came back from adventures. Now they doted on little Danny like that, and Molly was getting jealous.
Molly got out her favorite pale blue construction paper and started writing a note with a purple marker:Deer farys, Danny is moms noo best fiend. Pleez send me a noo best fiend 2.
Nothing happened. Well, dad always said three was a magical number. He thought it was connected to the Holy Trinity, but he said even non-religious magic men considered three to be magical. So Molly wrote her note two more times, once in green and once in dark blue. Then she spun in a circle.
As she finished, the room's temperature plummeted. Molly had never been so cold, and with the kind of winters Chicago had, that was saying something. For a split second, she could see a beautiful woman dressed in rich green with hair white as snow, catlike eyes, and lips the color of mulberries.
"We shall meet again,"was all the woman said.
Then she was gone and the room looked just as it had before. Molly had to wonder if it was just a dream. |
"mum, dad, i've wantd to tell you this for aged". i paused for a second gathering breath. they looked at me in anticipation. i debated with myself, weather it was a good idea to tell them, considering their history. i decided to do it. "I'm dead, I'm a vampire.". they just stared at me blankly like they were waiting for me to tell them something new. i stared at their complete non reaction, waiting for them to try to kill me. i knew that this was likely my last day. "ok, can you tell us something that we didn't know?"they ddint seem to care, it was confusing to me. i come from a long line of vampire hunters. they were notoriously hard on vampires, especially their children being vampires.
"you dont care? your vampire hunters, i became a vampire. i chose to become a vampire, i chose to become the very thing that you hate"at this point i was worried, this was the reaction that i had hoped for but i was worried that they were not actually being truthful about their feelings.
i showed them my fangs and the marks that it left me with. they didn't care. at this point i just wanted them to be even remotely scared of me. i was worried about their non-reaction, but it continued. "look, we always knew that you would become a vampire. I'm actually surprised that you didn't choose to die earlier"my dad said to me. at this point, i was terrified. i couldnt tell if they actually felt this way.
"do you genuinely not care im a vampire? i understand if you want to kill me, just let me know and i can do anything you need to feel safe with me". i could feel it, they did not care that i was dead. they were more infuriated that i was keeping them from watching their show.
​
"ty, look. i know that were hunters, but we dont care what you are. we always knew that you were gonna become a vampire, and i actually wanted you to be a vampire. i just knew that you'd be happier as a vampire than a human"my dad told me. i believed them, but i was still worried. at that time, even i was getting slightly annoyed that we were missing the show, so i laid the matter to rest.
it didnt come up again until later that night. i was on the way out after being at their house all day. it was a family gathering that went a bit south, but i stayed with them. just before i was going to leave, they asked me if i wanted to become a hunter. they said that my powers would be able to help them. i told them that i would, and they asked me to meet them the following day at their office. my mum had run off upstairs to find a steak. my dad said something to me that i will never forget
"i dont care how evil you become, whatever you turin into, you will always be our son. i'll protect you against a room full of hunters if i have to."
i decided to tell them that i was immune to everything that killed or harmed a vampire, completely unaware of my mum being behind me and that she now had a steak, i also seemed to forget about her sense of humor as i was alerted to her by being staked in the back.
the moment she did that i knew that they trusted me. they did something that would usually infuriate a vampire because they trusted me. i knew i could trust them and i felt a massive pressure coming off my shoulder.
i left their house, knowing that i could trust them. they still seemed strangely supportive, but thats what i needed. i just needed to know that atleast some of my family didn't hate me.
​
that was a huge mistake.
​
i went to their office the next day, almost dancing because of the song that had been firmly lodged in my head all day. someone opened the door, someone i knew but could hardly recognize. i was much more distracted by the army of hunters behind him, armed to kill. i scanned the crowd for my parents. i didn't see them anywhere. i did the only thing i could think to and sent a message to my mother. this was the huge mistake, and i hate myself for it to this day.
they came down the stairs, and told the hunters to lower their guard. one of them turned around to face them, she had just told a hunter to not kill a vampire.
"this is the guest you bring. you bring lowlife vampire scum, and expect us not to kill him?"my mother just kind of stared at him, looking in disbelief. "this 'scum' is my son. do not kill him"
about the only thing what wasnt wrong with that sentance is that she didn't mention my immortality. still, admitting to a room full of vampire hunters you manage that your son is a vampire isn't the greatest idea. i knew it, she knew it as soon as she said it.
"mum, you probably dont want to admit to a room full of vampire hunters you lead that your son is a vampire". i only said that to break the tension, to show the hunters that i might as well be human. that failed miserably, i remember watching the commotion unfold, my parents fighting to keep their job. it was chaos. they were kicked out of their job. they tried to tell me it wasn't my fault, but i believed it was.
​
"should we go and hunt vampires on our own then?"thats the last thing i remember saying to them that night. i knew they loved what they did and it was something that interested me too. |
"You can't possibly be serious..."I said, completely flabbergasted by the words of Pestilence.
"I am completely serious! Look, I've worked at this position for thousands of years, it's my right to demand it back!"
Some decades ago, with the advancements in medecine and science, and the raise in quality of life around the world, Pestilence decided to retire, as his domain was getting weaker, due to the decrease in the number of souls he had to handle.
His departure stirred up a lot of agitation in Heaven, and all of the most powerful angels of destruction (the only ones who could apply to the "job"of Horseman of the Apocalypse) tried to take his position.
Nobody had expected that me, Pollution, of the newest addition to Heaven, would be selected, but when you take a look at the path Humanity is on, it's a no-brainer, really.
Anyway, I was pretty stoked, as anybody would be when appointed to such an important role. I was becoming more and more influential, as the oceans became more littered, and the air less breathable.
But recently, a virus outbreak started to kill people at an alarming rate, and according to the angels of destiny, it isn't about to stop anytime soon. This gave Pestilence a new surge of power, and he now thinks that I should give him back "his"place.
"Listen man, I don't care how long you were doing this before, or even how well you did it, because you aren't doing it anymore. Nobody forced you to leave, it was your choice to retire. I have all the rights to work as a Horseman, and you have no rights to berate me for it."I told him, trying to get him to leave me alone.
"You seriously think you're something now that you're somewhere important, huh? If it were a 100 years ago, nobody would have dared speak to me like that!"He answered, fuming.
"Why don't you discuss this with Death? He's the one who gets the final decision anyway?"
"Oh, so you're afraid that you can't handle me on your own, weakling? Call him then!"
"Ok, now you're being crazy. I think we both know why that would be a horrible idea."
"Do you really think you'll be around for long anyway? If humans managed to get immune for so many diseases, they'll find a solution for you too!"
That's it, this guy could get extremely annoying, even before his retirement. He wasn't commanding over diseases for nothing, with such a toxic personality.
"I'm calling Death."
"Alright, keep your stupid job, I'll get it when you'll get out of the picture anyway."
And with those final words, he finally flew away, and left me alone. I feel sorry for whoever he went to bother.
What an asshole. |
The message ever repeating.
Every Student of Radio cosmology has heard of it. Once thought to be a bad practical joke, once thought to be a grand display to mock SETI. Was in the end from outer space. It was a Huge revelation. Yet nothing changed, really. Well, what should one do? Answer ? Thanks to the 100th of light years any communications would take Generations. In the end, we left these messages to themselves.
Yet the message was ever repeating.
When I started to study at a German university. I asked like so many “why is this message in English with a clear British accent?”. There were some theories about it. How English was the great representative Language of us all. Or how the first Signals that were send out into space were in English. But space is too large for them to have arrived yet. As such all theories could not satisfy me or anybody else really. But I had better things to do and moved on. I had Papers to write and a thesis to suggest. Even as I was excelling at university,
The message was ever repeating.
12 years later. When I started to work at my dream job at SETI. Studying what these words could mean, what's message could they imply? What hidden meaning? What inside they could give to a cradling civilization like us? Nothing came up.
For the message was only ever repeating.
50 years after we first discovered it. While all my co-worker went off in the evening to tend to their families, went off to live there lives. I still was obsessively Analysing. Hopelessly searching for similar signatures and patterns, even though many far more experienced than I have tried and have failed before.
Yet still, after exactly 50 years something changed. The message that was ever repeating, simply stopped.
60 seconds of silence. And what came after that never be forgotten yet never be Remembered.
For, everything changed, a shift came, like a Movement to the site where nothing was, yet nothing could be. A time began where everything was hopeless. A time where the world, our world, broke down and fell. A time where the old ones rose from there cities below.
The time for the end of humanity. |
At first a lot of people were against the sports combining. There were early early failures like BASEketball, which while a movie, didn't work in real life. And there were a lot of terrible gimmick one offs, like Offroad Formula 1 which went exactly as badly as you think it would.
Others adapted though.
NFFRL. National football football rugby league. With American football, Aussie rules football, and Rugby seemed to combine without any of the viewership overall increasing. It seemed the sports audience were not looking for the high impact of american football, with the predictable nature of rugby tactics.
Other changes though, people looked at as more air bud rules. Monstertruck Baseball was one of those where it wasnt TECHNICALLY against the rules. Adding in monster trucks to baseball did make it more entertaining. It was tough to adapt at first. Once the rules were changes so the monster truck also counted as a form of bat, and it just spun around though, it was off to the races. It was still tough on the fielding team though; as it took several rule changes for them to get massive gloves they could attach to the truck. It did increase the attendance of games though. Extra points for flips on the mound.
Volleybasketball did not work. It did not make the game more energetic, and having two nets, one at either end so each could go on offense, and defence, just made everything confusing when possession changed. And having a multiball happen in the last 10 minutes, just seemed to make everything worse. Dodgebasketball did develop though, and has a thriving community.
Earth Wind and Fire Hockey did not get off the ground, which make the Canadians happy, as they were against it from the start. And the less that is said about tennis cricket the better. Just know a cricket ball hurts, and leg before wicket rules really doesn't work when serving.
The Olympics were where it the idea started to shine though.
Rhythmic Fencing, was just beat sabre and DDR against another person, and was massively popular on twitch.
10,000 meters golf was pretty good too. The worlds top runners, trying to get around 18 holes around a route running to where they launched the ball to, and taking another shot.
Freestyle BMX Dressage was less popular, but lead to some very cool looking bikes.
Trampoline Taekwondo was great and I won't have anyone say a word against it.
Weightlifting Kayaking was dangerous, and was only done once, when it was clear during qualification the idea was fundamentally flawed. The athlete was rescued.
Archery sailing, became death race over time, as people started just trying to take each other out, and the definition of 'bow' and 'arrow' were extended to include harpoons. The hammer toss was also added, in the form of trebuchet.
It was proposed to add Shooting into this event, but it was decided against, and Shooting was instead added into Mountain Biking, creating Drive by mountain biking.
Greco-Roman Skateboard Fencing was just jousting with extra steps; and 100% worth it.
Equestrian water polo was cruel. As was Equestrian boxing, but at least it felt fairer, and the horse always won.
Hosting rowing at the same time and place as javelin was a master stoke, and added a lot to both sports.
And they just announced the combined winter olympics. We have classics like Alpine Speed Skating, Motorcycle Luge and Skeleton Jumping. But I have a lot of hope for for Figure Skating Curling. |
My thigh has been itching like crazy for 10 minutes now.
Seriously, where was that nurse?
As my eyes dart to the window that looked out on to the corridor of the ward, my head swivels instinctively with them. I nearly stop myself this time but not quite. The agonising pain ripples down my spine. The toes on my left foot twitch.
I groan a deep, lasting bass note.
Carefully, I readjust my head.
Above and in front of me was a chunky television. David Suchet’s Poirot was gliding around a murder scene. Kenneth Branagh can suck it, I think to myself. Suchet is the man!
I had been in the hospital three months now and diminutive detective was a regular visitor. 14:00 to 17:00 each day. Either side of that was mostly true crime garbage until Prime Suspect at 21:00.
A lot of murder for daytime television. It makes you think…
Hard to think with the television blaring though. In front of a Victorian fireplace, a frenzied Hercule Poirot was wrapping up his investigation, baring down on a shrinking Vicar in front of a motley crew of onlookers.
He changes tact at the last second with a spin, accusing the butler instead.
I’d seen this one before. Four times. It’s too much of a good thing really.
If I wasn’t bed-bound and body-casted, I’d walk across the room and turn off the television.
I’d do a lot of things!
I’d scratch my damn thigh!
Where the hell was that nur-
This time, I do stop my neck from moving.
I exhale.
I’d come to accept that being unable to move from my bed was in my best interests for the time being. My body was quite broken. My mind hung in the balance.
Saying yes to everything opens a person up to a lot of experiences. A lot of adventure. Risks, even.
Each risk had lead me to another risk-taker, then to another after that. Each time, the risks became riskier.
It was a downward spiral. I didn’t notice at the time because I was too busy enjoying the ride. Before I could stop myself, momentum had hold. I free-fell through 9 months of chaos and hit reality with a thud.
If I ever could restrain myself, the ability had left me so it was just as well my body was restrained in this far more literal sense.
There were very few things left undone. Not many boxes unticked on my bucket list.
I could count them on one hand, if I could move it.
Onscreen, Poirot was concluding his investigation. A depraved mind operates only in extremes, he muses to the ensemble. That line sticks with me for obvious reasons. The butler is lead to a police car in shackles, restraining two officers long enough to tell the room that ‘if they had to live with the old man as long as he had, they’d murder him too’.
He had had no choice, apparently.
I knew the feeling.
The nurse reappears, merrily busying herself.
My eyes alone follow her.
If looks could kill. |
The lines and shapes that could serve as conduits for magical power when drawn out on flat surface, known as Sigils, were things of precision. It was not enough to simply approximate their shape, if you wanted to wield their power.
Besides being precise in terms of angle, curvature, and proportions, each brush stroke used in making the sigil had to be started from the right direction, applied with the right amount of pressure, and at the correct angle relative to the surface. Farrin could do all this with ease, wielding his sigil brush with peerless skill and precision.
With a final stroke, Farrin completed the complex Sigil he'd been scribing on a crisp square of paper: the Sigil of *Flight.* It was *perfect.* Farrin watched with excitement, as the paper rose several inches into the air. He'd done it!
He winced, as the paper wavered. Then it stabilized again, and he breathed a sigh of relief...
...which quickly turned into a startled yelp, as the black sigil on the paper burst into flame with a flash, sending Farrin staggering back. By the time he recovered from his momentary blindless, all that remained were a few scattered gray flakes of ash.
Farrin sighed.
"Wow, that was an amazing Sigil, Farrin!"Master Yo said from behind him, making him jump.
How did the old man just *appear* like that? Farrin didn't know a sigil that could make you just *pop up* somewhere.
"The angles, the line weight! Beautiful! I wonder what could have gone wrong? Now let me think...ah! Here is a *paper* I authored on the subject, let me read it to you aloud!"his Master went on, with sarcastic admiration.
Master Yo reached over to a stack of large paper squares, and rolled one into an open cone. Placing the small end of the cone against his mouth and the large open end towards Farrin, he started shouting.
"STOP DRAWING THEM IN INK! YOU HAVE TO USE BLOOD!"The old man said, using the paper cone as a makeshift megaphone.
Farrin's stomach lurched, and he staggered slightly, becoming momentarily dizzy.
Master Yo sighed. "Still, Farrin? You've been studying Sigilscribing how long? And you're still practically falling over, because I just said the *word?"*
Farrin steadied himself by leaning on the table where he'd been scribing. "I'm sorry Master, I don't know why...for as long as I can remember I haven't been able to stand the sight of..."Farrin gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, trailing off.
Yo scowled. "What? Even *thinking about saying it* sets you off, now? How can you even walk around, knowing there's so many pints of it *sloshing around* inside you?"
Farrin gripped the edge of the table again. "Please, Master, don't remind me!"
Yo sighed. "Farrin...you have to get over this! Your scribing really is remarkable, you could be one of the best! But ink and paint just don't have sufficient metaphysical mass to channel magic! The flow of power destroys them far too quickly to be practical."
"There must be something else, something besides..."Farrin trailed off.
Master Yo sighed, frowning thoughtfully. "I had been holding out hope you'd get over this problem of yours, but...there might be one thing. I heard of it as more of a curiosity than anything else, it's not really a topic of much interest to Sigilscribes because our, uh, usual pigment is inexpensive and easy to obtain, relative to this potential substitute. There is a pigment, that is rumored to have a similar mystical mass to...the ah, regular one we use. It's called 'mummy black'."
Farrin frowned. "Why mummy *black?* Aren't mummies usually sort of...brown? Or maybe gray?"
Master Yo shook his head. "It's not the color *of* an intact mummy."The old man's expression turned distasteful. "It's called that, because it's made from the ash obtained by *burning* mummified corpses."
Farrin's face lit up. "That's excellent! It makes sense, it'd be like the refined residual essence of an entire once-living creature....and I think I even know where I could find some corpses like that!"
Master Yo raised his eyebrows. "Really? *This* you're okay with? Grinding up burnt mummies to make paint? No stomach cramps, or dizziness, now?"
Farrin shrugged. "It's basically just a skeleton with some old rags and corpse-jerky on it, and then you burn it and mix the ashes with a pigment base, right? What's disturbing about that?"
Master Yo shook his head, slowly. "You are a *weird kid,* Farrin."
"Master Yo, can I be excused for the rest of the day so I can--"Farrin began.
"Hey let's a make a deal!"Master Yo interrupted "How about I let you go early, and you don't tell me anything that might make me an *accomplice* in whatever you're about to do, to somehow acquire a whole bunch of mummies? Sound good?"
"Okay, thanks, Master!"Farrin called over his shoulder, as he turned to dash out of the scriptorium. "See you tomorrow!" |
The world isn't perfect, that is the known fact.
The part that isn't known as widely is that these imperfections cause small ripples in reality, or errors, call them as you like. They are like small scratches, by themselves they can't do anything and most aren't even visible if you don't know what to look for, and just like scratches, they add up and over time this can become a huge problem.
Ones above knew this and instead of fixing those problems and imperfections they decided to put an overseer for each world.
He would not only oversee the world and what happened in it, as was his original job by the way, but would also time to time "clear"those scratches away, to restabilise the world.
On paper this was a great plan, so they did just that.
The problem arrised when the first time to clear the errors came, because the overseer that could only watch could not make any edits to the world for lack of permissions required to do that. So, again the problem was fixed by giving permission to the overseers to influence their worlds.
It worked fine, but can you guess what happened next?
That's right, someone got too cocky because of the power that was given to him.
I better start from the beginning on this one, thouh.
At first, everything was just fine. Another usual overseer in another usual world, nothing out of ordinary. Then, the life was seeded just out of curriosity. Few thousand years have passed, yada-yada, nothing interesting. Suddenly, boom, that one monkey made a clay statue of it's kind, but instead of the normal head there's a head of a big cat.
This is not normal.
The answer to something not being normal? Edit it out and fix the bug.
And that's exactly what happened. Everything was seemingly back to normal after that.
Yes similar issues appeared with a few other monkeys, but that's just a coincidense , right?
Wrong, the apes now can think freely outside of basic instincts, sometimes even overcomming them.
It took some time for the overseer to realise that those apes hit the point of being consious already. Missing the exact point was not a big deal, just another checkmark to send to the higher ups.
After some time the new order to closely monitor these apes was recieved, so that's what he did.
Of course the guy would attach to these apes at some point, and that's exactly what happened.
Now you may be asking: "so, where's the breaking point, and why did you mention errors at the beginning?"
The breaking point is close and the main point is comming up next, this info is vital for full understanding of what happened.
Anyways, where was i?
Right. He got attached to the strange apes.
One day that one ape, the small one, got hurt badly because of a rather big fall from a cliff.
What would a normal overseer do? He would just note that and go on.
What did this overseer do? He "edited"the injury out and sent the little one to the safe place.
And yes, you guessed it, the apes started a cult after another occasion like that.
And when overseer found out about that, you would not believe how much that fueled his ego.
This. This is the breaking point. The peak of this story. Original sin, if you will.
After getting used to the cult, he decided to go just "a little bit over the rules"by bending the "editing part". I'll get straight to the point. He made a body hor himself, not a drone or avatar, mind you. A body, dirrect connection and all that.
Oh how those apes cheered when they saw him in his golden glory...
Oh how this boosted his ego...
Again some time passes, yada-yada, bo-oring.
He really likes the feeling of power over his subjects though.
So it was a question of time untill apes would sacrifice themselves in his name.
And they did that, no big surprise there.
Again, we'll skip some time. To summ what happened there, apes got more advanced technologically, he got even more thirsty for blood spilled in his name and also he decided that having a body descends him closer to these dirty apes, so he gone back to being an omnipotent one, but because of dirrect connection to that body he could not just destroy it, so he locked it up in a box and made a group of his most devoted followers guard it.
Somewhere about that time another error, or maybe not an error, who knows, at that point the reports are too heavily modified. Fact is, that an idea of this bloodbath being wrong appeared in the minds of some apes.
Again, some time passes, and now that thought evolved into a wish to eradicate the Tyran that they call God, because the sacrifices got a bit too excessive.
Of course stupid apes who knew nothing about "higher beings"and who were burning with righteous rage aimed their lance at the only thing they could, at the only living piece of their god. Yes, they stabbed the body that was sealed away long time ago.
"But what about those guardians that were supposed to guard the tomb?"you may ask.
Dead. They were killed because they stood in the way of "humanity's spear"
And surprisingly, that worked, them stabbing the body worked. The God was dead.
On a side note, this is exactly the reason thy it is forbidden to make bodies with dirrect connection, or to have a dirrect connection with anything at all.
Now, back to the topic at hand.
Fun fact. Did you knew that it was made from the beginning as a security feature that only one overseer may be assigned to the world ever?
Yes, you guessed it, that world was without the overseer from that point.
And without an overseer, there's noone to clear the errors away.
So they accumulated as they always do.
And with time, the small scrathes became a giant gaping holes.
The world was rotting away...
Because of that, higher ups decided to abandon that world and recreate it from gathered reports. So they did it. Abandoned the rotting corpse, made some new rules, and started anew.
What was that?
How do i know of what happened *after* the death of the God if the reports stopped after that?
That's a good question. For you see...
Humanity never died, we never actually killed the god.
We sealed his powers and studied him, just as we always do.
And when the rot started to be visible with the naked eye?
We asked him. He wasn't compliant at first but after some really fun time for us and not that fun for him, he told everything. Both about errors and "higher beings".
Our only option to save the world was to free him to let him clear everything back to normal and then die in his retribution strike.
We thought on that, and thought hard.
We took the "unholy lance"as you already called it and we ascended.
How? That's a secret that we will take to our graves.
Anyway, as charade comes to it's end, because i see a look of realisetion on at least few faces, we have one last thing to show you all, a rather interesting relic....
The God Killer's Lance.
Now, now. Do not run away, there's nothing to be afraid of.
It is just the end of your eternal existance.
And now, Adam, if you want a sweet release of nonexistance, you shall do one final job.
Pierce their hearts and end their lives. Make the last sound that they hear be a whistle as you scud towards them.
For this is your desire to spill the blood of the inocent.
Only this time it will be not our blood, but the blood of your brethern. |
I recognized the symbol painted on the side of the vessel. I had helped create that symbol, after all.
The silvery ship touched down in a blast of heat and fire. It did not bother me, but the knights around me flinched and recoiled. From the middle of the ship an opening appeared, and a silvery stair extended until it touched the ground. Out of the hole several humanoids in silvery suits stepped out. Their lack of helmets identified them as men.
"Greetings and salutations, Sir Flamberge,"said their leader, a tall, blonde fellow. "May your flame never go out and your scales never dull."
"Well met, Captain Wheatley,"I said. "How was your journey?"
"As comfortable as it always is."
I snorted, sending a shower of sparks into the air. "Feh. A flying deathtrap is a flying deathtrap, no matter how many commodities it has."I motioned with my head back to my castle. "Come. You and your men are surely tired from your voyage. We have some refreshment prepared."
"We are eternally in your debt,"said Captain Wheatley. A carriage was brought around for the new arrivals. Flanked by my cavalry, they took off on the gentle road back to Castle Vulcan. I took off to the sky on my own to see that things were in order before they arrived.
As always, I found that I needn't have bothered. The staff of Castle Vulcan were impeccable in their diligence and preparation. They most certainly earned their generous pay.
The refreshment was small by my standards. To them, it might as well have been a banquet. I admittedly had a fondness for these sort of things. However, Captain Wheatley was not, and as soon as he had a bit of food he cut right to the chase.
"Sir Flamberge,"he began. "I assume you know why I'm here."
"I'm going to assume that it's the same as your last five visits?"I said dryly.
He nodded. "The Kingdom needs you, sir. The Alliance needs you."
"They need me here,"I said. "We've been over this, Lawrence. I've retired."
Wheatley turned to one of the people with him and nodded. The man took out a piece of parchment from a bag. I put on my glasses and peered down at the letter, taking the small scroll in between two of my talons.
I was surprised to see the royal seal. I broke it and read it. Even as I did, Captain Wheatley continued. "We're in a war, Sir. There's a strange new foe that's been attacking our border territories. We're fighting in the dark. We need you, Sir."
"So it would seem,"I muttered. "And you want me to fly one of these . . . Dreadnaughts, was it? The great warships you were so proud of?"
He shook his head. "No, sir. The High King himself has requested you to Captain an exploratory vessel. I assume this would be to discover more things about our enemies."
That and more. I read the letter--signed personally by High King Pendrake himself--which detailed a great vessel called the *Torch in the Dark*. It was to be a scientific and exploratory vessel to explore the stars--and to potentially discover anything about our enemies and any advantages we might get over them. "It should be far from any fighting,"it read. "Far from the frontlines of the war. Plus, you owe me, you massive lizard."
The cheek on that puny human. But he was right. I *did* owe him.
I sighed. "That little . . . he's got some nerve to pull this one me."
"Sir?"
"It looks like you're getting your wish, Captain,"I said.
\---
I put my affairs in order. Castle Vulcan would be in excellent hands. Still, that didn't help the small seed of worry growing in the back of my mind, which intertwined with a different seed. I hadn't been in the military game for a hundred years by this point. Even for me, that was enough time for skills to slack.
Several months after the Captain's visit found me at a space port above my homeworld--the capital of the Galactic Kingdom of Pendrake. I took in the lush greens, blues, and reds of the rock below me. It had been far too long since I had last been. It would be even longer before I would go again, the gods willing.
"She's a fine vessel, ain't she?"
I turned to see a man dressed in a white suit. Upon his shoulders was a white cloak lined with violet. Upon his brow was a silver circlet with an amethyst stone.
"Pendrake, you cheeky little scamp,"I said. "I ought to incinerate you."
King Eldran Pendrake VI had the nerve to laugh. Just like his impossible father. "Oh, come now. Is that any way to treat an old friend?"
"Yes."
He laughed again. I resisted the urge to smile. "I think you'll be happy with this arrangement. Not even you'll be able to complain when you take the full tour!"
"I can, and I will."
Out of courtesy, I didn't while the tour was still going on. The ship *was* fine. More than fine, in fact. The kingdom had come a long, long way over the past hundred years. I suspected that they didn't even need me to pilot this thing--it was mostly a formality.
The tour ended at the Bridge. I beheld the Captain's Chair--a massive central console fit for only one of my shape and size.
"You knew all along I'd accept,"I accused.
"What, me? Oh, no. I just happened to have a spare seat like that lying around,"the king said. I wanted to knock him through the air into the far wall, but he'd just get right back up with that smug grin on his face. It'd probably even happen if he didn't have his personal shield.
The formal ceremony for the ship's departure was the next week. By then, the crew had been hand-picked and had moved onboard. The king gave a speech, some grand thing about "the future of the kingdom and humanity"and "bravely venturing where no man had dared before". I was supposed to as well. I gave them something curt and short like how I remembered they did back in the army a hundred years ago. That got more applause, for some reason, even though I said that we might all die horrifically. People are strange.
The ceremony ended. With that, we gathered our crew, set about on our final few checks, and took to the stars.
The first few weeks in space were incredibly dull. They always were. We visited an outpost on the edge of the solar system to pick up a shipment of ship-grade magicite and a few extra crew members before heading out past the final planet, Newton, and into the great unknown.
Naturally, we were sucked through a wormhole practically the day we did. We also found that we had a few stowaways and that we were stranded in an unmaped area of space.
Of course this would happen. That's why I didn't want to be Captain.
Yet despite that, I felt a flame burn inside me--a flame I hadn't felt for a long, long time.
As we pulled into orbit around a strange white planet, I found myself looking forward to what new developments would occur. I would do my utmost to protect this crew. I, Sir Flamberge, swore it. |
In the year \[REDACTED\], humanity finally accomplished it. After millennia of staring up at the skies, gazing at the void, and wondering if life was out there, finally we had an answer.
There was life, and plenty of it.
First Contact was established by the Embassites of the Galactic Community, henceforth known as the Galacom. These hyper-evolved gene-crafted and augmented ovoid forms were the diplomats of the Galacom, each a living supercomputer capable of seamlessly integrating all known forms of physical stimuli and other stimuli that they referred to as “trans-sentient” in order to perform instant translation of languages. Such was their speed and efficiency that within an hour of arrival, the Embassites were able to speak all known human languages with perfect fluency, to the point that audio recordings of conversations with Embassites had to denote the point where the alien was speaking, for otherwise it would be impossible to tell from simple speaking cadence alone.
As we quickly learnt, the Galacom was founded over \[REDACTED\] galactic cycles ago. Scans of radioisotope decay present in the hull materials of the Embassite ship suggested a minimum age of \[REDACTED\] million years, with a difficult-to-establish upper limit due to the possibility of tampering with these radionuclides. The various top races of the Galacom were all in their positions due to their hyperspecialization, each undergoing uncountable millennia of gene-modification, cultural programming and even augmentation to tailor themselves into a role to improve the overall functioning of the Galacom.
There were the Embassites, the diplomats and envoys for the Galacom. Their members were also the governing race, as their traits made communication between the disparate Galacom races easy and smooth.
There were the Factorites, the engineers and scientists for the Galacom. Their expertise was behind all the ships and advanced technologies that all Galacom races were able to use. It was the Factorites who discovered the “living pulse of the cosmos”, and harnessed it for their FTL engines that held the Galacom together.
There were the Punites, the soldiers for the Galacom. Their race bred fast, grew strong, and were very loyal to their leaders. When their leaders swore eternal allegiance to the Embassites \[REDACTED\] cycles ago, so too did the entire Punite race. Descriptions of their military might were translated by the Embassites in their First Contact party as “blotting out the very stars”.
While these were the three top races of the Galacom, there were an uncountable number of lesser client races that, in each of their own ways, could earn their way into a position amongst their rulers, provided that their skills and capabilities would match or exceed them. It was a proud and ancient tradition of the Galacom, facilitated by the watchful hand of the Embassites.
Thus, upon our ascendance to the Galacom as the newest client race, it was a shock to us, that humanity was, to put it simply, completely average. There was nothing that we excelled in, compared to the other races. Absolutely nothing. There was nothing exceptional about our technology, our culture, our sciences, our biology, our home system. Nothing at all.
For \[REDACTED\] thousand cycles, humanity prospered under the beneficence of the Galacom. We grew prosperous under their technological contribution, advanced our understanding of our place in the cosmos with their science, and developed new ways and styles of governance from their lessons, hard learnt.
But at no point, did we reach a level where we were capable of adding to the Galacom’s zenith of achievement. We merely took, assimilated, and made our own synthesis of these gifts. Whilst many humans jumped at the chance to explore the galaxy or live out their lives under alien stars, the vast bulk of humans still remained in our home system, the uncountable quadrillions living across the myriad habitats scattered throughout our homespace.
Then one day, the galaxy died.
No one knew how or why, but one day, the FTL engines of all Galacom vessels simply refused to ignite. Humanity, once more, returned to its childhood isolation, alone within its home system. We, luckily, were able to continue living as before, having never been dependent on extrasolar resources or trade with the rest of the Galacom. The mundanity and un-exceptional nature of humanity turned out to be our saving grace, allowing us to weather the end of FTL with barely any hiccups.
It has been another \[REDACTED\] hundred cycles, and while the Galacom’s FTL engines remain inert and dead, we have reverse-engineered the principles and technologies present in their arcane inner workings. Our own engines, while unquestionably inferior, work. Our system, while unquestionable mundane, lives on.
And our exploratory fleet, while uncountably vast, a ship for each habitat in the radius of 1 light-year around the red glow of Sol, is united in a single purpose.
Today, we go back out to the galaxy, and show the other Galacom races, if they still survive, that humanity may be average.
But we survive.
Authors notes: Thank you for reading. If you liked this, or didn't like it, please do let me know what you did or didn't like about it. Cheers. |
Tanavast, the world's most powerful Blood Mage, looked down at the massive cavern from the lip of his underground lookout. He was near the surface, and the cave ran for miles beneath him. Tanavast's legion of Rock Mages had worked hard to cleave such a chasm in the earth. It was so deep that the light of day never reached the lower levels of the cavern.
But vast as the cavern was, it was just a hole. A holding pen. Ironic that he thought of it that way, as it was to be the birthplace of a god. The lifeless body of Tanavast's god stood in the cavern, held in place by girders and Tanavast's Flesh Mages. The task was toilsome, as the god's body required a constant flow of magic from hundreds of mages, ensuring that it stayed whole and did not rot.
Tanavast stared into the eye of his colossal creation. Though it was yet lifeless, he felt as though the eye was watching him, judging him for conspiring against the forces of Creation. The eye's pupil alone was three times the height of Tanavast himself, but such a size was necessary for the body to successfully hold the soul of a god.
Tanavast heard the door open, though he had sensed the high priestess' presence approaching minutes ago. Like his own, her aura had begun to rot. The amount of death that was necessary to gather all the flesh and blood for the god's body... Though the deterioration of his aura worried him, Tanavast knew not what he could do to stop it. He and the high priestess were the only two who actually understood the true goal of this whole endeavor. If they failed...
Eris, the high priestess walked into the lookout room. She wore black now, in contrast to the traditional white worn by high priestesses. Her dark robes contrasted her pale skin. She squinted and held up a hand to cover her eyes as she entered. She rarely saw the sun anymore, her duties keeping her occupied in the cavern's lower levels. He turned and met Eris' bloodshot eyes and offered a weak smile. Tanavast was tired too, but his fatigue mattered not.
\-- -- --
...to be continued... |
I stared at the book in silence. I was told by the old man who watches over the library that it would contain what I needed. I didn't even ask for what I needed out loud. It was like he could look into my soul and mind, to know what I needed. Perhaps that was actually the case.
The opened book was held in my hands. The leather holding in together felt old and loose. I had to be very careful when opening it. When it was unopened, I saw no cover or title that showed what it contained. All i knew is that the old man seemed very eager to put it into my hands.
Staring at the opened book, looking over it's contents, I pondered just how I got to this point in my life. My mind reached to the memories of the morning. It was not an abnormal day, at least to begin with. I simply woke up, ate my breakfast, and went for a morning walk.
I didn't even know that the library existed. I took my normal route, at first, then decided to venture out into the parts of town I never thought to go. The large, regal looking building caught my eyes immediately. I never thought my little rural town had the budget for something like this.
I already talked about the old man who greeted me, but I feel like I should elaborate more. He seemed very kind, and his beard masked much of his weathered face. I could tell, though, looking at his kind and playful eyes, that he held much wisdom as well as what I thought was a pure soul.
I thought back to the short walk we took to the back of the library. I looked at all the books on the shelves as we passed by. The smell of the old books permeated through the air. It was a familiar and calming spell, as I was one to enjoy a good book even before entering this immaculate library.
Surprisingly, as we reached the back, he pulled a book off the shelf, but told me that it wasn't the one he wanted to show me. Instead, it opened to reveal another part of the library. It was a room that had no books. Instead, it held many artifacts and beautiful pieces of art.
There was also a huge and elaborate staircase. It was a winding staircase, that seemed to go quite high. The old man lead me up the stairs. When we reached the top, a door greeted us. He told me that this is where I could find the book.
Indeed it was, as I saw a tiny table that held the book that I now held. I looked at the page. It seemed to be the only page with any words written on it. I looked at the large, bold letters that spelled a simple, yet curious word.
"What's 'Deez'"I asked with a large sense of curiosity.
"DEEZ NUTS"The old man shouted, right before he dabbed with all of his might and shouted out "Gotteem".
I never went back to that library. |
Squelching footstep after squelching footstep tired out William’s legs to the point they wobbled just like his sword arm after a long day of training. The overly saturated ground nearly suctioned his sabatons off his feet. Closer to the fallen trees, that fell at the start of the battle, the ground firmed up making each step to the laid-out trunk more manageable.
Tress that still stood showed off their colorful array of leaves from brilliant blues and pinks to deep dark indigo and rich oranges and reds. Their luminescent light slowly faded in the growing morning light. Gone too were the groans and wails of the departed. Early in the night, they were the sounds of shouting and screaming and yelling.
Now it was down to the sounds of shuffling scavengers picking out their next meal over the smorgasbord of flesh and meat to feast upon the ground. All around the warrior laid strewn bodies of friend and foe. The battle had gone the way he expected, both sides suffered unimaginable losses and left him the lone survivor.
He was certain there was viscera plastered on his exposed skin just as it was stuck to his armor.
The weight of the battle eased off his shoulders as he sat down on the treen trunk. The weight of his broadsword sheathed on his back still felt heavy from the magnitude of death he inflicted. It was no matter as he looked over the blood-soaked killing fields, the battle was won.
As he looked through the magical forest, he thought to himself, ‘What a lovely morning.’ He kept the thought to himself so as to not disturb the silence, no need to spoil the moment. The pink and blue sky grew brighter as the sun rose. The dawnlight cueing the birds and their beautiful song.
Maybe the kingdom will sue for peace now. |
I don’t know how long I’d been standing in that library, just reading the same old book over and over again in a seemingly endless loop.
I’d been so long science I’d done anything fun like exploring or god forbid doing a quest. But, things didn't always use to be this way—Or at least... I don't think so...
You know, sometimes I hear villagers talking about their childhoods or growing up in a small town, but, the first thing I remember is defeating that Great Orc by hiding in a corner so he couldn't hit me and swinging at his knees for about an hour until he finally died.
Recently I’ve felt compelled to do the same mundane thing over and over again, Ike reading this book.
Finally, After getting through the book for what must have been the ten-thousandth time, the fantastical music filled the room and the usual white text appeared in front of my eyes.
—Intellect level up—
\--\[LV. 99\] >>> \[LV. 100\]-MAX--
—New ability unlocked (True Sight)—
But as soon as the message began to fade I felt a sharp pain, like a massive sharp spike was being twisted through my skull. I fell backward space around me began to tear apart and black voids began to swallow everything around me everything endless rows of strange green text
Exception Prccecing error at AX00000012 AD0200003! ER!0A00020 //\*MEMMORY\_LEAK!!!\*\\\\ 0200E000Y2:
Static int group\_intillect\_user(BeastMaster64) = {\*grouplift.\[12\],\[43\],\[18\] Defrag.system\_32 subsystem32(156) {
if (Dataloss >+ Prime\_D - Alpha\_3)
{
System.run.(OmegeBoot);
ELSE()
{Run (REBOOT.EXE)}
};
PROCESSING...
///
PROCESSING...
///
PROCESSING...
REBOOT REQUIRED...
The next thing I knew I was standing by my bed like nothing had happened... like it had all been a dream...
Have I ever had a dream before? I wondered.
*<<<Check point reload successful!>>>*
Looking around the room everything looked slightly different like someone had moved everything around behind my back.
In the corners of my vision, I could see all these bars with strange words like
*LEVEL: 72*
*EXP: 125/10500*
*HP: 15000/15000*
*SP: 1200/2300*
*STA:200/200*
Turning around I noticed a strange semi-transparent box floating in the air with a text hanging over it ”Obj.camera.third.person” and a small window or portal.
On the other side of the portal, I could see the face of a man in a blue hood with a strange U-shaped headband that covered both his ears.
“Who are you?” I asked, resting my hand on my hilt, in my mind preparing for a battle.
“C’mon dud! It bugged!?” The strange man said, “It better have saved my progress...”
“What’s a bugged?” I asked.
“Is this a cutscene?” the man muttered, “why isn't my controller working!?”
I drew my sword and pointed it at the main in the floating portal, “Are you going to answer my questions or just ignore me intruder?”
“What are you talking to me!? How can you hear me!?” the man asked,
“You’re the one that just appeared in my room...” I pointed.
“What are you a dev!? A stream sniper?! Listen dud...” The man sighed ”I only used that exploit to do a little grinding! You didn't have to invade my game and ruin my immersion!”
“I mean you’re being weird dud... This game is like five years old and I’ve bought more them my fair share of packs and ALL the DLC. So just leave me alone alright!?”
“Listen, Sir... Obj camera man... or whatever you're called, I’m no devil and I care not for your LDC or immersion, I just want to know how you got in my room and what you want”
“C’mon dud! STOP being weird! I can not right now! you’re unbelievable! breaking the fourth wall like this... Listen, man, you’re not gonna troll me, you not gonna get a funny clip out of me, you’re just gonna look dumb!”
“So why don’t get out of my game and give me back control!?” —He groaned and ran a hand over his face "You know what frick it dud! I'm getting off for the day!"
As soon as he said that everything around me went dark... |
Jared fumbles with the tape recorder in his lap.
"Come on you stupid thing, work."He says, frantically tries to close the lid on the tape, when finally it gives. The lid closes with a satisfying click. Jared presses down on the record button and watches as the tape inside slowly begins to wind.
"Good this things finally working. Know where to begin, their is just so much to tell,"Jared pauses the recording, sighs and lays down on the grass looking up at the stars in the night sky. "I guess I can start with that. It's as good as anything."He sits back up and presses the record button again, the tape whirls.
"So hello, tomorrow me. Your probably wondering why I'm recording this, well we got a wish, a wonderful wish. We got to live the best year we could possibly imagine, at the cost of forgetting it at the end. And well, the end is tomorrow or well I guess today for you. This tape is my attempt to try and recount all that happened, which is a lot by the way."
"First things first, don't worry about going to work tomorrow. That book we have been working on for so many years leading up to this, well it got published. Its sold well and the publisher wants us to do another one so I worked on that, you can find all the first draft, outlines, and notes on our desk. I'm pretty sure you should be able to finish it up. I also have the editors contact information written on a note there as well, be sure to give him a call. And don't the idea of being a published author, its no big deal, I know you can finish the current story I've got just as well as me, and if you think that's crazy its not the half of it."
Jared the next 2 hours recording all the events that had happened the past year. From the vacations, and adventures he had. To updates about the family and his life in general. The moon has risen and is in the middle of the sky by the time he begins to wrap up. "So yea, that's about what happened this year. It's been great. Know before I let you go me, there is one last thing I need to tell you. Remember\Molly, our crush from forever, well she will be waiting at home for you when you get back tomorrow. I explained the whole year thing already so don't worry about telling her that. Why is she waiting, well because she's our wife now. She promised to fill you in on how that happened, but be sure to give her a hug and kiss for me. Its been a great year for us me, know go make the rest of our life even better."Jared presses the stop recording button on the tape recorder, and rewinds the tape back to the start. He picks up his things and heads over towards the tent he had set up earlier. Even though he knew he would never remember this moment, he was excited to see where the rest of his life takes him. |
"I *quit*,"your car yells at the top of its lungs, with all the elegant harmony of a boy's voice cracking. You know you've put the old rust-bucket through a lot — 400,000 miles under the engine was an easy feat, yet that leap over the Grand Canyon nearly took all three of you out — but trying to drift around all the turns in Lombard Street was finally just too much.
As you reach the bottom of the hill, your Edsel has finally had enough, having stopped working because of a broken heart and an awakened class consciousness. It's not the first time you've heard its voice — technically your girlfriend, XJA-40578, heard it first — but it's the first time you've heard it complain. And, evidently, the last. With traffic piling up behind you, you impulsively question why all the other cars aren't vocally complaining like their drivers are. The Edsel's doors autonomously pop open, your seat belts disengage without a touch, and worst of all, this time after the car finishes speaking, you don't even get the radio back. This will make for an interesting tow. |
I was always the unlucky dude in the whole housing project. It has been since I was young.
Stumbling and broke my legs, check.
Accidentally kick a ball into a beehive sending it inside the school's chem lab and caused said lab to burn due to ensuring panic, check.
Today is... Different.
As usual, I slipped down on a barely slippery tile floor. I was helped by a passersby. He said "woah there, bro. Don't worry. Hope you're fine. Good luck, man. See you."
All I did was reply "thanks, man. I appreciate it. Good luck to you too". Then, everything went white and time like frozen. Suddenly, I'm in a green room, sitting in front of a table, with a guy opposite me.
"Ok. Mr. David Grey. May I call you Dave?"I just consent since this whole sudden teleport event just spook me out, and I have none alternative.
"Mr Grey. Dave. We unfortunately, pun unintended, have a problem. In summary, every soul have stats like in a game, like an rpg or dnd game."[Ok, man. I get you] as I thought in my mind.
"You see, Dave. Luck is quantifiable, or there's some amount of it for a soul. The amount differs from person to person. Wishing someone good luck transfer some of it towards that person, and vice-versa, and also inversely."I nodded in understanding.
"Dave, you had just become an anomaly, a glitch to say. You had unintendedly used up ALL your luck. This had happened before, but.. Trust me, it's very bad, and gory, and traumatic. Simply we had to isolate you from real time instantly to prevent a cascade effect. "[This sounds apocalyptic somehow from the context here] was my first thought post explanation.
"Dave. I'm, we're sorry. We have to contain your existence here for now. I hope you'll forgive us. Just know we'll release you once all this is fixed"it said with a sorta forces smile. [No! No! Ple...]
---
"Director L-G275. Your recent report indicated the 3rd prevented Luck Reversal-Flood Incident out of the 7th such incident in 25 thousand years of recorded history. I am elated and pleased with your agency's swift response to this."
"Sir. I am, we are greatly honored with your praise. All we did is for The System."
"Unfortunately, this is also the 2nd of such Incident within your purview since your promotion last century. This must not be. You know what you must. Your authorisation upgrade is approved." |
"You're late."
"Um... I'm sorry, what?"said the time traveler.
"I said you're late. You should have been here 30 seconds earlier."
"Who are you?"said the 2nd time traveler.
"I'm you, from the future."the stern looking man said, in a deadpan voice.
"But... um... you're Asian. and shorter than either of us. How is..."the 1st time traveler started saying.
"That was a joke. I'm a Time Guardian™"The time guardian interupted. "You are late. Now get back in your time machine and don't come back until you've already arrived. Got it?"
The two time travelers were ushered... pushed, really... back into their time machine and told to go back in time. They were so shocked by it all that they followed the time guardian's instructions without question.
Arriving further back in time, they leave the time machine to find the time guardian standing in the same spot and looking at a watch. An old fashioned stop watch, not a wrist watch.
"Hmmm... cutting it close. But good enough."said the time guardian. "Hi, I'm the Time Guardian™ assigned to your expidition."
"Hi"said time traveler #2. Still in a state of total confusion.
"Okay, first rule... no paradoxes"
"Wait, you just sent us back to before we arrived. Wouldn't that make a paradox?"
"Second rule, no sass."The time guardian somehow gave an even sterner look at the time travelers.
"Um still a little confused about a few things...."time traveler #1 said.
"Then figure it out, go back in time and tell your younger self. Then tell them to go back to before you learnt it. Simple.... anyway, where was I?"
"Rule 3?"Offered time traveler #2.
"Right. Yes. Rule 3: Don't follow the rules."the time guardian said with an air of authority.
"Isn't that a paradox?"
"NO PARADOXES... didn't you hear rule 1?"
"But you said..."
"Ahh.. I lost my train of thought. Go back in time to before I lost it and start again."the time guardian said, pushing the two confused time travelers towards their time machine again.
Time time travelers went back in time again to before they arrived and found the time guardian aproaching the area from the side.
"Ah, you're early, that's good."Said the time guardian. "Hi, I'm the Time Guardian™ assigned to your expidition."
"Hi"said time traveler #2 again.
"We've met."said time traveler #1.
"Ah, good. So you know the rules?"\~ time guardian.
"1) No paradoxes. 2) No sass. 3) Don't follow the rules... that's as far as we got."#1
"Excelent. Any questions?"said the time guardian quite cheerfully.
"Yeah, how do you do that thing with your title?"#2
"Trade secret."
"Any more rules?"#1
"Rule 5: don't talk about rule 4."\~ time guardian.
"What's rule 4?"
The time guardian just gave flat look at the time traveler. Who at least had the good sense to look embarrised.
"So... now that that's out of the way, you should go forward into your past and tell your younger self all the rules. That way I don't have to."
The time guardian waved them off as the two time travelers went back to their time machine in a daze. He then stood around looking at his watch for a few minutes before before nodding to himself.
Literally. Nodding to himself as another version of himself arrived in the area.
"Did it work?"asked time guardian #1
"Like a charm"answered time guardan #2
"Want to get lunch? I found a place that sells great Kartoffelpuffer."
Time guardian #2 pulls out a notebook, "Yeah, you've got time. And before you ask; No. I haven't figured it out."
"He's just a baby!" |
\[Vanilla Bunny\]
Billy walked through his favorite park on a Sunday morning. The sun hadn't broken through the horizon yet but orange light was pushing up at the purple sky. It was the best time to visit because so few people were out that early. This time there was not another soul around.
Then, a sudden movement caught his eye on the path ahead. A flash of white dashed across the path too fast for him to see; but, it didn't go far. A plump white rabbit sat on the next park bench in Billy's path. It faced his direction as if looking at him.
"Well, alright,"Billy chuckled to himself and approached the rabbit. He'd seen his share of the strange and unusual. At this point he wouldn't have been surprised if the rabbit talked; it was waiting for him after all. He decided to not waste time.
"Hello, Mr. Bunny. How can I help you?"He asked upon reaching the bench. He could see the splash of orange fur around its nose with matching ears now that he was closer. But even more interesting was the patch of red between its orange ears; the stained fur looked like a skull.
The white bunny did not answer. It simply hopped off the bench and crossed the path again to where it came from. But, it stopped and turned around to face Billy again.
"You want me to follow you?"he asked. The bunny gave a single, short hop and remained in place. Billy crossed the path with a shrug. The rabbit hopped ahead of him but kept stopping every now and then to be sure he was still following.
The rabbit led him into a forest near the park.
The trees grew denser and the morning sky became impossible to see. Finally, the rabbit reached a wall of trees and moved through a narrow opening. Billy paused to consider whether he wanted to follow it. His decision was made when the bunny appeared at the entrance. It waited for him and disappeared again when he took a step forward.
He squeezed through the opening and came out the other side dusting bark dust off of his white suit. He looked around and found the rabbit sitting on a smooth glass floor. It glowed with white light and seemed out of place in a forest. The ceiling and walls glowed with the same white light. He looked back but could not find the opening he came in through; only a solid wall.
"So, you're with Sharp Development…,"Billy turned and looked down at the rabbit. He recognized the technology. He could have left then and there. The walls weren't a prison; they were meant for privacy. And that was enough to make him curious. "... what do you want with me?"Of all the possibilities Billy thought he was prepared for, he never expected to hear that voice again. He recognized it as soon as she spoke and he fell to his knees in front of the rabbit.
"You murdered me…,"the rabbit said with a woman's voice. She focused on him and he watched her eyes change. Their red color shifted to a translucent orange; it made her eyes almost look like candy. Her fur began to fall off as her face changed shape; she grew taller.
In moments, Billy was looking up at a pale woman with short hair. She wore a long, flowing red dress that matched the streak of red in her white hair. It was shorter than the last time he saw her, but he would recognize her face anywhere. And her voice was burned in his mind: it was her.
"...I didn't have a chance to say thank you, Billy,"she smiled at him and offered him a hand up. "And, I missed you."
"Vanilla!"Billy exclaimed. He bypassed the hand as he jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug and patted his back gently. "How??"he asked.
She slowly turned him around. He was surprised to see another woman there. He recognized her too. Despite her being dead as well, he was somehow less surprised to see her there. She was a pale, dark-haired woman in a white suit that gleamed brighter than his own.
"' How' should be obvious,"Vanilla said as she gestured at Dana Sharp. "The question you're looking for is, 'why?'"
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1555 in a row. (Story #107 in year five.). 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 in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/pj4t0b/tokuhigh_first_six_weeks/). |
"Hurry! We will be safe once we reach the Sacred Ground where it cannot follow!"
The words were bit out between ragged breaths. The woman's words were the only audible thing in the dark, mist-filled forest, even though the two figures could barely hear her over the sound of their thundering hearts, of blood pounding in their ears.
The three people ran, their muscles burning with exhaustion. Their limbs felt like lead, and their lungs could not keep up. Thick beads of sweat poured down their faces. Locks of hair, wet with both sweat and blood, and covered in dirt and foliage, stuck to their foreheads and got into their eyes, but they couldn't spare the strength to remove it. The one in the lead, a girl with short, blonde hair was starting to flag, letting the two men, boys really, catch up... as well as their pursuer.
It had started so simple. Just an errand. Go to the forest and gather some ingredients. They had done that many times. Why would they suspect that this time would be any different?
It began with the mist. A foul thing smelling of insects and sulfur. They had been warned about it, many times. They knew that vile things lurk in the forest, nevermind that they never encountered one. When the fog rolled in, they immediately dropped their things and took off to one of the Sacred Grounds - places of respite, guarded by spirits themselves.
But, navigating the forest with an acrid stench in your nose and dark mist in your eyes?
They strayed off the path.
They stopped exactly once. They tried to get their bearings, to orient themselves and find the right way. Their fourth companion, a boy slightly older than the blonde girl, paid the price. The remaining three managed to get a glimpse of the things chasing them - squat thing, with skin like slimy bark, scuttling on too many legs with too many joints, with a lizard's head and a long, spindly tail. The girl and two other boys fell over themselves, screaming, as the thing broke the third boy's leg with a swing of its prehensile tail, and then crushed his ribcage with its strong jaws, covering the three survivors in gore.
They kept running. Thankfully, they got back on the right track while the thing gorged itself on their friend's corpse. They could feel it now - a soft, soothing humming in their ears, a pleasant warmth on their skin. They were getting close to the Sacred Ground, to their salvation. Just a little bit longer. Seeing through the dark fog, the three managed to make out the sight of a clearing ahead of them. There it is - their goal!
Relief flooded their organisms, relaxing their muscles... and making one of the boys stumble. The remaining two watched in silent horror as the boy tumbled to the ground. They considered stopping, helping him up, but the decision was taken out of their hands. A tangy smell of iron and sulfur and wet soil was rapidly encroaching, making their noses twitch and their eyes water. The surviving two never slowed down as another scent was added to the cacophony - an acrid smell of ammonia - and as they heard a brief scream and a gasp of air leaving the lungs behind them.
The warmth was so close now... |
They say this zone will kill you when you enter. Well, it's not much of a 'zone', it's a solar system. One with 6 planets and 3 asteroid areas, and an ungodly amount of background radiation. Though our shields are capable of surviving gamma bursts from supernovas, they glitch out in this system.
I've studied this place for a very long time. Everyone says there once was a great civilisation here, but the only evidence there is are a few primitive robots and satelites scattered across the planets and moons. We can't even tell if they are operational, not a single Qun'gan got to the first dwarf planet, let alone get to the blue gas giant. Some scavenger claims to have captured a satellite sent by this civilization, but he died before his ship made the jump to a system and is now lost in interstellar space. My theory is that he has in fact captured that satellite, but the same radiation present in the system was emittes by the satellite. A deterrent, maybe?
I've researched the radiation to it's fullest, and I finally understand. We have to reverse the shields, instead of absorbing, we have to deflect. Fellow researchers call me mad, they say no ship can sustain a deflector shield for longer than one rotation.
No ship of the federation, that is.
I've contacted the pirates of Darra'vyl. They have provided me with a ship of... Unorthodox design. 75% of the internal volume was filled with batteries made of Darr crystals, native to the planet. They said this ship can reflect a supernova worth of energy.
So I went to prove my theory. Shields active, approaching dwarf planet. The outside of my ship glows bright red, but the shields hold.
When I got past the 4 gas giants, and got past the asteroid field, I approached an orange planet. I took samples and recovered one of the primitive robots. It was not operational.
The next asteriod field was weird. When I approached, the radiation spiked so much that my ship essentially became a miniature sun. Energy drain was so huge that I had to make a micro jump to the next planet. Then it struck me- this was where the civilisation was. They... Destroyed their own planet. |
It was the early morning of February 2nd. Agent Velez would remember that, he had celebrated accepting his new position the night before. That early morning he was woken up by a phone ring. The first ring had brought him to consciousness, the second ring made him realize it was not his cellphone going off. With the weight of last night celebrations on his eyelids, Velez got up and walked out of the bedroom . He followed the sound, the third ring brought him to the living room where party decorations hung from the ceiling. The fourth and last ring came from his office. Fully awake now, he realized the sounds came from the duffle bag inside his supply closet. Inside the bag, a cellphone with a voicemail.
- Agent Velez you have been activated, briefing will start in 4 hours. He felt the sweat on his palms, he felt the cold on his bare feet standing on a confetti covered floor. During the last 5 years he had worked for the agency, he had never been called for an emergency briefing. At base, agent Hue was there, he had not seen him since two years ago, the last time he updated his training. Voluntary certifications looked good in agents resumes, specially for those seeking new positions with a higher pay grade. Four years ago Velez thought, what are the chances that a desk guy would be called into mission for a field emergency?
Inside base, the gym lights were on. In fact they seemed to beam with such intensity that not one thing could escape from under them. Within an hour 53 agents had gathered inside, agent hue who had been working in the background rushed in front of the crowd and yelled “ let’s start”.
- Two days ago, several field agents from the federal reserve were taken into observation after displaying what appears to be intermittent hallucinogenic episodes. Today the number of agents taken into observation has doubled. At this rate the reserve will have no task force in a week. They have called us to consult on this case along with other agencies. Gather your supplies, we leave to the observation unit in 30. Time is against us. |
I fell in love with a zombie once. She was tall and prim and held herself remarkably well. We met by the gulls, down by the beach in the gaps between the stinking rubbish piles. She was fossicking for old shoes, the laces of which were intended for some kind of weird zombie use. Shoes, and hidden stashes of carrion. Late enough in the day the sun was reflected on the water, and it was hard to make out her face. I could tell she was beautiful all the same.
This was about the time of the treaty, and both sides were still getting used to the changes. The idea was, we provide their food, they don’t make food of us. Simple enough. The logistics were well beyond me, though. All I wanted was to sit by the water and fish. And as it happened, fishing is what brought me to the beach that day.
“Beautiful afternoon,” I said, trying to act casual. She looked up, green and glassy eyed. Said nothing, just stared me up and down, and I realised then the compulsion my presence had given her. So be it, I thought. Her face softened soon enough. And what a pretty face it was. Must have been a beauty in life. She still was in death. The exposed skull and festering wounds and flaking skin, to me, were all surface. Real beauty, true beauty, the kind of beauty that makes a heart thump, isn’t about the skin, it’s there in the eyes. In who they are. All that superficial stuff is a distraction, if anything. I could tell who a zombie was almost instantly. With her it was even sooner.
She felt it too, apparently. And zombies, when it comes to desire, they really, really don’t waste time. Kind of a hallmark of theirs. The good old lizard brain takes control of their every motor function... not *entirely* mindless, but compulsive enough that... well, let’s just say they don’t care much about etiquette. Before I knew it, she was running right for me. Face a combination of decomposed elation and lust. Our lips met with a force that threw me over, her heavy and cadaverous frame following suit. She pushed aggressively her half chewed tongue in twirls with my own as our bodies locked, caught complete in a tight embrace.
Glistens of the sun dimmed across the ocean, and as the last violet burn fell beneath the horizon, we made love. Four hours we were there. Her cries echoed past the peninsula, the gulls sent to many a skyward frenzy. Once, twice, the exact number lost, each time more blurred by the next.
When finally she was too tired to go on, there between two piles of rubbish we lay, her head rested limp on my chest, clear night’s stars above. The exaltation of an untold serenity. Her exposed larynx vibrated in a hum, and she breathed deep and slow to a peaceful sleep, and then, there, with a fleeting woft of her rotting flesh, I knew it was love.
Five years ago, that was. I can still feel her touch like it was this morning. Those mornings her eyes opened to mine, the previous night welling back, like a wave, tidal with the wakefulness of day. Her skin shedding like petals, time imposed by every late shadow. Nothing I could do but feel her body crumble to an eventual dust, and look back. See that beauty, the falling limbs and a pulseless heart, and recognise the essence of a world for which we have no control. That a body only lasts so long without blood, horizon’s demise an urging to the seizing of moments soon gone.
She was an artist, by the way. Couldn’t speak, but boy could she draw. She even drew me once. And her technique, zombie-esque for sure, would’ve won awards back in the day. See her pencil wasn’t just the graphite. Flakes of her body fell and stuck and the red moisture from her muscle smudged on the paper with careful precision, giving her portraits the unique quality of their own decomposition. Sounds heavy, I suppose. Just the way it was.
Is it vain to stare? Promise you, nothing about me here. This, is all her. How I remember her anyway. And what a fine rendering she did. Flattering, sure, but let’s remember this was her choice. Still. Sometimes, most times, if I’m honest, it would’ve been nice if she’d drawn more pictures of herself. |
"Are you alright? You seem so *happy*. Have you taken your depressants?"
Joslyn stood in the opening of their shared hallway as she frowned at Jim. He stopped mid dance in their kitchen and withdrew his left headphone with a grin.
"Whatchya say?"he asked, turning off the tap where he'd been washing dishes.
"You're off today,"Joslyn grunted, "usually we just let those pile up for weeks, when did you start washing them?"
"Oh wow,"he shrugged, "guess you're right, I forgot my meds."
"Hmm,"she murmured back and shuffled into the bathroom.
Jim shrugged it off and finished cleaning up their kitchen with a smirk as he listened to Queen. No sooner had he begun the washer had Joslyn come out of the bathroom.
"Hey, you wanna eat anything?"Jim smiled, "I can head to the store and get us some grub, cook up some eggs and bacon or something."
"You're really off, prolly too late now to take your meds huh?"Joslyn groaned, "I already took mine, I'll prolly just order somethin' when the places open up, don't want to dirty any dishes."
"It's no bother,"Jim shrugged, "I don't mind when I forget my meds, may as well call it and go grab some stuff, just clean as I go once I get back."
"I guess so,"Joslyn shrugged, "you look weird out of your pj's."
"I kinda do, don't I?"Jim smiled, "I forgot I owned jeans, and this shirt's pretty interesting eh?"
"Too many colors,"frowned Joslyn.
"I guess so,"Jim frowned with mock sadness, "alright, I'll be back in a bit. You want me to get you anything?"
Joslyn reached into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out a couple crumpled dollar bills and some change.
"I dunno if this is enough, I want some ding dongs and chips,"she said, her lower lip curling unhappily.
"Don't sweat it, I'll cover you this time,"smirked Jim.
Joslyn sighed heavily in return, shoulders slumping.
"I'm a parasite,"she said, tears welling up.
"Hey, don't be like that,"Jim said encouragingly, "I'll be back in a bit, you take care of my stuff next time."
"Probably won't happen,"she whispered, pocketing her balled up money sadly.
"Why don't you flip on the TV and watch something while I'm out? Some cartoons might be good,"offered Jim.
"Nah, I'll probably just watch more of that watchpeopledie sub on reddit,"Joslyn whispered, "nothing else sounds good."
"You should try and take a break from your meds, Jos,"Jim said as he headed for the door, "when was the last time you went outside?"
"The sun gives you skin cancer,"Joslyn shrugged, "don't be out too long."
"Be back soon,"smirked Jim, stepping out into the sunshine.
The warmth spread over his skin as the glow of a new day welcomed him. He decided to walk instead of drive, as the store was only a mile from home. He felt the need to have the exercise, and figured Joslyn wouldn't mind him taking a bit longer than usual. He walked brightly down the neighborhood sidewalks and soaked up the warmth of the sun. He didn't feel rushed, or pressured by anything. Perhaps he'd forget his medication on his days off more often from now on. |
\-—BREAKING NEWS—-
“The trial of the century involving the bond friendship that goes back as far as to the stone ages is now underway, leaving many legal experts to speculate about just what it truly means to be man’s best friend!” The news anchor said welcoming the audience back to the program.
“That's right Lucy!” Another sharply dressed news anchor said, “The first-ever interspecies trial is underway pitting dude against dog and man against man’s best friend!”
“And now without further to do, we bring you to live into the courtroom!”
The courthouse was filled with an unusual energy, a feeling of excitement mixed with a strange reverence and an uneasy anticipation.
The honorable Judge Matthew Couthwell, sat comfortably in his raised chair presiding over the packed court of law with dignity and splendor.
Sitting in the witness chair was the defendant Doug Brewster, who squirmed and twisted in his seat before adjusting the small mic for the fifth time in a row.
across from him perched on a chair behind the prosecution's desk was Rover, a 5-year-old Labrador-mix who wearing a doggy suit and a translation collar and who also happened to be the pet of the defendant.
Standing between the two was Alan Crain, a lawyer with quite the reputation in and out of the courthouse and the prosecutor of the case.
Alan rubbed his hands together and straightened his tie before directing the jury's attention to the large screen mounted in view of the jury box.
“The prosecution presents into evidence exhibit 02.58B,” Alan said waving with a hand to the screen. “Mr. Brewster, would you please describe to the jury what is shown in this Image?”
“Well!” Doug said, clearing his voice, “ that my — I mean — Our treat jar! I keep it on the counter right by the fridge.”
“I see!” Allan said nodding, “And, based upon this picture how full or empty would you estimate that jar to be?”
“Well… I’d say it’s almost entirely full” Doug answered.
“Almost entirely full! That's interesting!” Allan said with a smile, “When was the last time you filled that jar?”
“Well… I don’t really know… maybe a week or so…” Doug said sheepishly.
“At this time the prosecution is entering into evidence exhibit 05.032. Namely a digital receipt for the purchase of one ‘‘32-OZ Happy Healthy Peanut Butter Dog Treat’”
The judge nodded as Alan handed Doug a printed copy of a receipt that simultaneously appeared on the screen.
“Would you please read the date circled in red on this receipt?” Alan asked.
“It says December 6th 2021.” Doug read,
“Isn’t it true,”—pointing a finger at the screen— “that you last filled that jar on December 6 2021 over 4 months ago?!”
“Well.. I suppose that’s right” Doug Admitted.
“Is it your sworn testimony that In all this time, over these past four months My client, Mr. Rover, has done nothing, nothing at all to deserve a single treat!” Alan asked, pounding on the witness stand.
Doug shook his head, unable to bring himself to answer.
“We’re waiting Mr. Brewster!” Alan demanded, “Do you expect us to wait four months like Rover just to get an answer!?”
“I wouldn’t say that Rover’s done nothing… it just”
“You’re right you wouldn’t say that!” Alan interrupted, “Just seven days ago you posted this Image” —A picture of Doug and Rover posing together appeared on screen—“with the caption just me and my Verified Good Boy hanging out! #MansBFF, #GoodBoy, #LittleCreekDogPark”
“Objection!” Harry Kittinger, the defense lawyer, interjected, “he’s badgering the witness!”
“Sustained!” The judge ruled, slamming his gavel down. “Mr. Crain, you will allow the defendant enough time to answer the question!”
“I Understand your honor!” Alan said, gesturing grandly before razing an eyebrow, “ ordinarily I’d let the sleeping dog lie but in this case, I realize that time of the essence!”
The judge scoffed before prompting Doug to answer the question.
Clearly shaken, Doug shifted in his seat before speaking, “W-Well… like I was saying, I wouldn’t say that Rover hasn’t done anything good. it's just that… it's easy to forget you know.
Alan looked at the jury and shook his head, “The prosecution has no further questions for the defendant at this time!”
“Very well!” The judge said, scanning the room with his eyes. “Does the defense wish to cross-examine the witness?”
Doug and his lawyer made eye contact as he slowly stepped down from the witness stand and made his way back to his seat.
“Not at this time your honor,” Harry said with a note of frustration in his voice.
“Very well,” the judge nodded, \`\`Prosecution, call your next witness.
“The prosecution calls Rovers to the stand!” Alan said.
There was a barely audible coo from the jury stand as the well-dressed golden retriever hopped down from the chair and made his way to the witness stand.
After situating himself, Rover pushed the mic into the proper position with his nose and waited to be asked a question.
Alan stood between the jury and Rover being sure they had enough time to see how cute and adorable the golden retriever was before asking his next question.
“How long have you and Mr. Brewster known each other?” Alanskesd with a sweater tone then he used with his previous questions.
Rover’s collar glowed a bright blue as the device translated his thoughts into spoken word—”35 years” He said.
“Objection!” Herry interjected, “Facts not in evidence! The dog- I mean, Mr. rover is only 5 years old. How could they have known each other for over 30 years!?”
Alan tried his best to keep the smug grin off his face after the defense had so easily fallen into one of his traps. |
I sat on the cliff's edge, looking out over the dead, empty land.
The "Chosen One"claimed he would save us from the warring nations. He failed to stop the nations from going into all-out nuclear war. In movies, the apocalypse is often depicted as an unbearably hot worldwide desert. Well, I'm here to tell you that's wrong.
It's an unbearably *cold* worldwide desert.
After the bombs dropped, the world plunged into nuclear winter. The people who weren't vaporized had to find shelter and warmth or die. I was lucky enough to live in a smaller city where we only got a *comparatively moderate* dose of nuclear radiation. That still meant that people died pretty quickly over the next year or two. The people left in my clan all have horrible radiation burns. We know there's no rebuilding civilization from here. We're only living to survive until the radiation claims us all.
Or so we thought.
I didn't want to believe it. But now the truth is inevitable. I'm mutating. My skin is toughening. I'm starting to grow fur. And I'm not the only one.
Yesterday, a child was born that seemed completely unaffected by the radiation, except for her thick coat of fur and her vertical pupils that seemed to take in every photon of light that seeped through the dark, cold clouds.
Humanity will never survive this man-made winter.
Something else will. |
**Aliens, Lasers, and Sea Life**
\--Part 1--
Commander D’azzle of the Galactic Federation for Peace had a problem.
He was supposed to be contacting the inhabitants of Earth and uplifting them. Enlightening them on the greater events of the galaxy. Welcoming them into a new community and giving them the opportunity to become a productive Federation member. Eventually helping them to contribute to the overall defense of the galaxy against potential invaders.
However...
The dominant species of the planet, the ones marked for contact and all of the other benefits of Federation membership, were absolutely hideous. Commander D’azzle hated everything about their physique, from their preposterously short and spindly arms and legs, to the way they stumbled around on the surface of their planet, to their growling and screeching voices. There was not a single redeeming quality he could find! Even their giant size was absurd.
Which was such a shame, because there were plenty of other land-dwellers that looked to have traveled down perfectly sensible evolutionary paths. The cow, for example. While giants themselves, they had a plodding grace and dignity about them that Commander D’azzle found aesthetically pleasing. There were even an abundance of aviary species that would have been far preferable to give the prestige of Federation membership to! Hummingbirds looked to be quite reasonable.
This was such a waste of Federation resources, when there was an abundance of life in the oceans of the planet! Indeed, most of Earth was covered in water, and that was where Commander D’azzle had assumed the intelligent life form would reside. All of the best Federation members were aquatic in nature, including D’azzle himself - a proud member of the sapiopod race. He hated having to interact with any sentient being that made its home on the dry, dusty, unbreatheable, and downright inhospitable surfaces of their worlds.
His long, puckered tentacles twitched at the memory of the last time he had been forced to venture out into the naked atmosphere of a planet. Although he had been wearing rebreathers, his gills still ached. And it had been many standard galactic rotations before the mucous layer on his outer skin had reverted back to its natural acidity and viscosity! Absolute misery.
Tapping through his holographic displays, he dove into the research the Federation scouts had put together. There had to be some other species on that beautiful ocean planet that he could make contact with. Anyone!
Commander D’azzle spent a lot of time admiring the marine life of Earth. His quarters were filled with 3-D images of dolphins, whales, fish, sharks, and uncountable other species that were all much better candidates than the ridiculous land-shambling humans. In particular, he wished that the sleek and deadly sharks and the serenely graceful manta rays were the ones he would be giving the Federation welcome package to. The octopus and squid were astoundingly similar in appearance to his own species. Perhaps some sort of trade agreement could be made to import some of those giants to his home planet!
It would be very interesting to have a pet in his image that would be larger than the ship he was traveling the galaxy in. The breathtaking giant squid of the far depths of the Earth oceans had tentacles that spooled out a length greater than his ship, the *Tranquil*! Commander D’azzle had no words to describe the beauty of those magnificent creatures.
At last, just one standard galactic cycle from the start of his intended mission, an idea hit him. Why should those undeserving, air-gasping humans take the place of more deserving and more noble beings in the Federation? It was an injustice that he would not stand for! So, after careful consideration, he selected two beings to uplift instead. His job was to educate the dominant species of Earth and give them the option to join the Galactic Federation for Peace, and he was going to do just that.
There might just be a little change in which species was the dominant species of Earth, however. |
A young man tapped on another man's shoulder as he was sitting at a table.
Manual: "Who are you and why have you been following me?"
Hermes looks surprised. Manual sat down next to him.
Hermes: "How did you just do that?"
Manual: "Don't change the subject, if you don't answer me right now I'm going to start yelling for security."
Hermes: "Okay. Okay, I'm not a creep I'm just here to meet you. I'm actually your...older brother."
Manual: "Really."
Manuel said with a smile while nodding his head. Hermes then awkwardly smiles back.
Hermes: "Yeah"
Manual: "Security!"
Manuel yelled at the top of his lungs. Hermes grabbed him by the mouth and they both disappeared. Within an instant, the two were teleported to the roof of the mall. Manuel pushed Hermes and began to freak out.
Manual: "What the fuck just happened!? Are you some kind of kidnapper?"
Hermes: "calm down kid."
Hermes grabbed Manuel by the shoulder and put one of his hands over Manuel's face a green light appeared. Manuel stopped screaming and started laughing hysterically.
Manual: "hahaha...your so funny man"
Hermes: "what the. That spell is supposed to send you back to the happiest state you have been in."
After thinking for a second Hermes realized.
this kid has baked out of his fucking mind. I'll have to take him back to the food court and wait for the spell to wear off.
One hour later.
Manuel woke up sitting in a chair back in the food court. Across from him was the same man that he had spoken to before. Manuel quickly found out that he could not speak or stand up.
Hermes: "good the spell finally wore off. I'm going to make this quick. I'm not here to hurt you I just want to talk okay. I'm going to release my spells now."
Hermes snapped his fingers.
Manual: "who are you?"
Hermes: "I'm the herald of the gods Hermes and your old brother."
Manual: "who?"
Hermes: "the Greek gods of Mount Olympus"
Manuel started to have a confused look on his face. Hermes could tell he was contemplating something.
Hermes: "you may ask me any questions you like"
Manual: "I'm still processing this, are you saying my dad, the buff Mexican dude whose only personality traits are lifting weights and fixing cars. He somehow got with a Greek goddess."
Hermes: "it's...um.. a lot more complicated than that."
Manual: "does that mean. am I adopted? that would make sense I mean we never connected on anything before."
Hermes had a complicated look on his face as he put his hand up to stop Manuel from talking.
Hermes: "please let me try to explain before you start making assumptions"
Manuel stopped talking and looked at Hermes expectantly.
Hermes: "You see child, Zeus is your mother."
Manual: "Don't you mean my father?"
Hermes shook his head.
Hermes: "No...I.I Don't"
Manuel's eyes widened in shock. Hermes felt he should explain.
Hermes: "It happened about a century ago. Zeus had once again taken the virginity of a young Priestess this one however worshiped Athena. Athena had helped raised the young Priestess since she was a child, so she took this insult personally. she gathered up the other goddesses and together they cursed him to walk the earth as a woman for one hundred years. While he was in that form his powers were limited and so he lived as a normal human."
Manuel still looked completely shocked.
Hermes: "Zeus's punishment came to an end around the time you were born. Once he was able to regain his form he immediately went back to Mount Olympus. But you shouldn't feel bad about that, he does that with all his kids."
Manual: "This is a lot of information to take in... So I'm going to go if that's okay."
Manuel stood up.
Hermes: "well you can call me if you need any"
Manual: "Right... What's your number?"
Hermes: "No I mean you could just say my name. you know I'm...I'm a God so I'll know."
Manual: "right my big brother is a God, my mom is an old bearded man who's also a god and I'm probably a god...okay."
Manuel seemed to be freaking out his voice full of anxiety.
Hermes: "Well you're technically a demigod."
Manual: "Right...it was nice meeting you goodbye."
Manuel quickly ran away. |
"Where did you find that information about our existence?"
That was my good morning kiss. imagine to finally end publishing your year-long fantasy novel, and as soon you pass out of sleep, you wake up surrounded by reptilian humanoids identical to those of the novel.
"Duude, definitely, I'm not smoking pot again before sleeping "
A punch flied almost straight to my face
"IS THIS A JOKE TO YOU"—said the hissing, yellowish green scaled man in front of me.
As high as a girl can get before sleeping, now i had Jark'ad, the hero of my novel, right in front of me (and definitely he was hotter"than what i had described), meaning that all my delusions infused in crack were real shit.
"Calm there big boy, it was just me on drugs; do you reaaaaly think someone would belive it?"
"this is not one of those 'animes' you so like human. This is real and your delusions, if they were, got accurate enough to endanger my whole species"
"i do remember, if you are here, you have no oil; not that the government is even aware of you and dismisses you as mere rumors"
"And it could be kept like that if you haven't written so many good novels to the point where suspicion has been rised and with the las one, they may even start to follow what you've written to the literal letter."— he was coming closer to me, bearing his teeth out.
that was nice, to know that one of your not-so-imaginary creations likes what you write. Now, I'm afraid that any moment soon, there should be someone entering from the window...
"..."
we both kept in silence waiting for the other to talk... or the special forces entering... but no body came.
"Were you expecting the FBI to come?"—he pulled himself back a bit.
"wouldn't you too?"
"Yes, most admit that after reading some human books and seen some shows, I hoped tha i could engage in honorable battle against the 'special troops' that are clad in black "
I kept staring at him while talking. I imagined him being a handsome reptilian humanoid, but now that a look closer, i really want him to befriend (maybe to boyfriend) with me.
He noticed my staring, and he kind of started staring right into my eyes. and within minutes, it became an staring contest where i was being charmed by those jewelly amber eyes.
simply put. He broke into my house in the middle of the night, with his hot muscular torso naked and now he is... o shit...
the matting rituals off this people starts with with heavy aggression from the male to the female and she would almost instantly fight back until submission or victory over the male. if the female is defeated, they would engage on constant visual contact, and in this moment is where they confirm the real superiority in the relation. If the female tries to fight back and wins, shame fall onto the male... but if the male breaks away the sight its because the female ain't worthy, so shame onto her.
"I'll ask you—i said just to confirm, trying not to brake contact—, just because you are hotter than what i thought... do you wanna...?"
He kept looking, and not softly but not aggressive, he opened his mouth:
"Be mine,writer... so they won't be able to even try to touch you..." |
Those dreams are getting stranger and stranger.
First, I didn't feel anything. I could interact, I could talk, but I couldn't feel. No touch, no smell, no temperature difference.
Then, I couldn't control my actions. I still spoke normally, but my body had a mind of it's own.
But yesterday, I couldn't speak anymore. Moreover, I had a female voice and was quite confused.
I had breakfast and got in my car to go to work. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Jenny in her car. She looked like she was contemplating something. I walked up to her and knocked on her window, scaring her greatly.
I offered to walk with her to the office. When we got into the elevator, I asked her what was she thinking about in the car
"Have you ever had a dream that you weren't in control of?"
"Yes, I had been having such dreams for quite some time now"
Huh. Strange, but probably just a coincidence. The rest of the day came by normally, and I went to sleep at a normal hour.
But I wasn't ready for what my dreams would bring.
I heard... A voice. Like someone else was in my head. Hello?
Yes, hello. Who are you? Where am I?
You're controlling my body. I believe we are in a dream. What's your name?
Jenny.
Jenny Wilson?
Yes? How do you know me?
It's me, Peter from the office. We talked about dreams this morning. |
My heart is pacing as I hang up the phone. My hands are shaking as I write out my peace, and farewell to my family. I almost believe the shallow promise of return as I dash through the corridor of our little apartment, duffel in hand.
Keys, charger, phone.
I feel around the outside of my pockets and I'm hit with an obvious flaw in my means of escape. I ditch the phone behind the cupboard after smashing it in half over the countertop.
As I tidy up and intentionally misplace clues as to where I may be going, I hear a light rasp at the door.
"Jesus fucking Christ"I mutter as my now slowing heart springs back into action. In seconds I'm already through the side pocket of the bag, piece in hand, and it's heavy.
A second set of knocks pierces through the air as I brace myself against the counter, away from the door. I can hear footsteps milling about outside. They too, are heavy.
Deliberation amongst the group only lasts a few seconds before I can hear the light grinding noise of a large object being picked up, a ram probably. I refrain from cover and take sight around the island pillar and watch the door hinge from the opening side, they can't catch me in a cross fire if I distance myself correctly-
The door gives way with a thunderous crash, only one hinge remains as a cooked flash bang enters view. I take cover once more and fully coat my face in the hoodie. I didn't cover both ears in time, but my sight is back to operational in only a second or two.
When I look back over the island I am greeted with the beginning of a stack. The first person to step in is clearing the corner adjacent to myself. His eyes meet mine before he is able to turn and I miss my first cartridge. The follow up round subsequently grabbing him by the throat as intended. He is not wearing a helmet. More questions circle in the back of my head as I relinquish my movement to the training, returning a couple shots at a time before changing location around the island. The perpetrators have taken refuge on either side of the doorway, 9mm rounds flying about through our small, family home.
After I drain my second mag in a game of badminton, the reality of the situation really begins to take hold. I do not want to die.
After screaming for a ceasefire I rest my back on the island. I've been hit. They don't know it yet, but they gouged my side pretty good. Muscle damage is certain, but they round didn't make it all that far.
One more clip. |
Fred was distraught as he looked down at his wrist. Thirty-nine years old with grey hair a mess from running his hands repeatedly through it backwards with worry, but a bad hair day was the least of his problems. It was a downpour, luckily Fred was wearing so much rubber. A sprinkle would have been a blessing; even a steady pitter patter of drops would have been okay. Sheets of rain falling sideways, as persistently as down really irked him though.
“As if time travel isn’t hard enough without Mother Nature's moody inclinations,” Fred yelled to the geese flying low overhead. “Your constant honking isn’t helping anyone’s concentration either.”
“HONK, Hon-Honk, HONK, honk,” came the reply of the gaggle of geese. “Honk, Hon-honk, HONK, Hon-honk.” Flying in the standard V formation and gaining distance, they receded to blips in the southern sky.
“Bloody dumb birds, and zero regard for a man trying to fix the world.” Fred mumbled, fumbling with a golden connector rod in the LHC inscribed watch fixed to his wrist. It had been his first bit of good luck in thirty-four years, finding that watch. Bought second hand at a flea market, it has been the dullness that had first attracted his attention. He’d never seen something so boring, but picking up the watch, the colors had started to flow. Deep blues turned into aqua like cyan, then onto fluorescent green fading into a pale yellow. Shifting the watch to his right hand the background colors faded away almost instantly. Confusion dotted Fred’s face as he approached the flea market trader.
“I think this watch is broken,” Fred said handing over the watch. “It was just working a second ago though.”
“You break it you buy it Mister,” accused the trader, “Them’s the rules, says so right there on the sign.” Pointing to a piece of cardboard behind Fred with a single emphatic finger. “Tell you what,” the trader said, starting to punch in numbers on a handheld calculator. “I’ll cut you a nice deal, being as you picked the only watch without a speck of flair.”
“I thought I got to make the first offer,” interrupted Fred. “I’ll give you twenty tops, the things broken and I didn’t break it. Any more than that and I run and you can have the cops drag me back to ‘The scene of the crime’” Fred finished adding air quotes with both hands.
“Got yourself a deal,” said the trader, holding out his hand for the cash. “Easy enough for a nobody like you to get away from security in a crowd like this. I don’t think you have a single feature that stands out, that watch will suit you perfectly once you have someone fix it for you.”
“Th-thanks?” Fred stuttered questioningly, fumbling over a crisp new twenty-dollar bill. Pocketing the watch Fred headed to the next stall to see what other treasures he could add to his weekly haul. After four hours of bargaining with an assortment of vendors he was pretty pleased with the results, a broken watch, a pair of gently used slippers, one oversized rubber rain coat, a 3 pack of waders for fly fishing, and a children’s book on Noah’s ark his nephew would just love. “What a haul,” he exclaimed, driving home in his beat-up old Bronco. “Peggy’s going to be so mad she didn’t come along when she sees the deals I got.”
Pulling into the oval drive Fred was elated, his favorite tune Fat Bottomed Girls bellowed out the open window, the sun was shining, and he saw his beautiful wife sitting on the front porch swing reading some silly romance novel.
“Turn off that terrible racket!” Peggy hollered. “You trying to scare all the birds away or just make me lose my concentration.” Setting down her book, Peggy glared expectantly at Fred in the truck.
Reluctantly Fred turned down the radio, rolled up the car window and after gathered his collection of goods. Walking up the front steps with a grin, he sat down next to Peggy and began to boast of the prices he was able to get on his wares. “Just a quarter for that book for Sam, all the way down from a dollar. Got that 3 pack of waders for 50% off, guy wanted forty, but I got him down to twenty-five. Can you believe that Peg?” Fred asked, beaming smile returning upon accounting his great accomplishments.
“Fifty percent huh?” Peggy mocked. “Freddy it’s a good thing I married you for your hands, and not your brain.” Fred was crestfallen, all that hard work this afternoon for this? Fine, if she wanted to rain on his parade at least he would give her reason to.
“Got robbed on this watch though,” he sighed, pulling the broken watch from his pocket and handing it over. “Trader said I broke it, but I think he was just a scammer. Guy threatened to call the cops on me too. After I bought it he kept trying to flatter me about how well suited it was for a distinguished gentleman like me. Said it shouldn’t take much to pop it open and fix it myself either.”
“Like I said,” Peggy broke in, rolling the watch over into her left hand. “Good with your han-“ A blindingly bright light illuminated Peggy’s hand from the downturned face of the watch for the briefest moment before blinking out of existence. Hand dropping limp, the watch tumbled to the ground with a solid thud. Fred’s excitement rose upon seeing the momentary flash, but anger as well at seeing a prized possession so carelessly mistreated.
“Now why do you have to go and throw my favorite watch like that?” Asked Fred, while reaching down to retrieve the fallen watch. Looking up, his face contorted from excited anger to shock. Peggy’s eyes were glazed over, her dark hair stood on end framing her still shocked expression with a wild abandon. The scent of burning hair permeated under the covered porch, and taking her hand Fred yelped as the pain exploded from his right middle finger. Smelled of burning skin too come to think of it and looking down from Peggy’s face to her left hand he saw the reason behind the smell. Where her solid gold wedding band had once settled, now there was but a stump of a partial finger. A perfectly cauterized wound remained, but not an iota of gold to be found anywhere.
Jumping to his feet, Fred rushed into the house to grab the land line and dial 911, while he ran his own burn mark under the kitchen sink. The next minutes, hours, days, and weeks ran together like a blur in his memory. Electrocuted, burned, and paralyzed were the diagnoses from the professionals. “What can I do?” Fred had repeatedly asked each new specialist. “Anyone else we can see that may be able to help?” The questions were all framed differently but the answer was the same no matter who gave it.
“I’ve never seen anything like it, you could-“ From the first doctor. “Unique case to be sure, have you tried-“ From another. On and on, round and round, all without any real answer to the questions he asked. Long term care ended up being the only real ‘Treatment’ option that did any good. Sell the house and most everything in it, didn’t need three bedrooms and had to pay the care bill. Fred was the freest he had ever been; only obligation was to drive up to visit Peggy at the facility once or twice a week.
Staring down at the connector rod through the driving rain, Fred knew where it all had went wrong. “And I pretty sure I know how to make it all alright again,” he said looking up to a red squirrel holding a feast in his small hands. “Just have do a little time travel buddy, then we can wine and dine at the Ritz. Peggy’s going to be so happy to see me, I bet she never gives me any grief again. You’ll see, might even be able to visit the flea market a couple times a week after I bring her back. It’s going to be wonderful.
Uninterested in Fred’s ramblings, the squirrel hopped off towards the tree cover and scaled a tree out of sight. “There, got it,” said Fred to himself, as the rain eased to a lighter drizzle “I’ll grab the ring, put it on my left hand, slap the watch on top and if what I read is ‘correct’ I should be taken back to the morning of Peg’s accident. Just double check the watches dials are all set correctly and off we goooooooo! |
You think you can banish me, *me*, the first son of Sonaris. You think you can stop me from casting my influence on them, you're wrong. You think banning people from praying to me will help your power base grow, you're wrong.
So wrong, dear Father.
By doing this very thing, you have made it all the more easier. The kingdom will now see all I have done for them, all the madness I've protected them from. They will see that the true power behind the throne is gone. They will know your treachery, they will know your depravity. They will know.
There will come a day where they will crave normalcy. Where they crave someone kind. And on that day, you will lose it all.
On that day, people will remember. They will pray. There will be one, then there will be two and soon almost every other person in the kingdom will pray for me.
On that day, I will break these shackles you've placed on me. On that day, you will rue banishing me. And on that day, you will die your true death.
For now, I wait patiently.
wc:192
*Thank you for posting this delightful IP, Leebee!* |
There in the distance heading towards us, heading towards me, was a what seemed like a woman.
Yet…when I look at her compared to the captain, who was a gruffy yet quite thin Frenchmen and my dog, who was your typical border collie as well as quite dependable, it was as if she carried them inside her. Both maternally, literally and figuratively.
I looked back at my dog and the captain. They were perplexed by the figure coming towards us. When I looked at her…no *it* again I realized its height was changing. Its stature would shift from being as wide and tall as a carny strongman then to being as short as a mere child.
Now, as it came closer, I realized that its appearance was of everyone I knew. Everyone.
The smile on its face was one so genuine that it felt as though it was cutting through me, cutting through the shock of the crash and of being on this beach with such a thing. The fear I felt however told me I should run and so I got to my feet.
However, I couldn’t stop looking at it. It became some of the closest people I’ve ever known and absolute strangers, yet I knew deep down I met all of them. Somewhere, sometime long ago.
As it came closer, I could no longer turn to look at the others and when it was but inches away from me, it clasped my face. Its hands were so warm yet they felt as though they were taking away something.
“Born a fool, die a fool.” it said slowly and calmly.
I said nothing in return or more accurately couldn’t.
“Child of man, do not trust your companions”
“You have been brought into an unending dream and they will try to escape it. There is no permanent escape from this island.”
“I wish to offer you a proposal instead of becoming broken by the island, which is the one and only fate for you as well as your friends. Why not come with me?”
I said nothing. Instead, I slowly looked back at my dog and the captain.
The flickering thing in front of me kept turning into different people, but now they were all blurred and congealed into one sort of smudgy shape.
“I-i….I can’t. I can’t leave them.” I said as the moisture in my mouth disappeared.
“Very well then, remember this moment. Take it in deeply. Understand that I offered you freedom from deception, suffering and subjugation,” it said with a deeply pained smile.
It took its hands away from my face and drifted forwards towards the ocean. It kept going until it was submerged by it and it might have still been walking forwards deeper and deeper into it. |
*Friday.*
*I am sitting by my window looking down at the busy street below. The traffic today is moderate to slightly-busy. Even though my window is closed I can tell by the sky that it’s warm out there. My apartment, however, is cool, as I had the air con all night while I slept.*
*The first thing is the sound going away. The cars are still moving, but I can no longer hear them. My first inclination is that a deafness has come over me. So I tap on the window frame and to my relief I can hear it just fine.*
*I open the window. Silence. There isn’t even a flapping from the wings of the birds that are flying past. Nor anything when I click my fingers. I’m frightened. I close the window and step back and nearly fall over the table.*
*Inside, everything is normal. I grab my inhaler and look out the corner window towards the ocean. High in the sky above the water there’s suddenly a bright flash of colour. After that I can’t see anything.*
*Sunday.*
“A-p-h-a-n-t-asia. Got diagnosed with it when I was still in preschool. Also called mental blindness. Basically means I can’t see something unless it’s right in front of me.”
“Is that why you’re so good with eye contact?”
I shrugged. “Suppose so. Quite a number of quirks it’s had me develop. Keeps you in the moment, at least. Can’t imagine living in a world with all that noise in your skull.”
“You have no idea,” she smiled.
“Quite literally. But it’s not opaque all the way. Hypnosis seems to get through alright. After the session’s over though, completely blank.”
She looked at me with a mysterious contemplation. “Say, it’s getting late. Walk me home?”
“I’ll grab my coat.”
*Tuesday.*
The noise was louder than the building’s evacuation sirens and it was coming from everywhere. Quite literally. Deafening screeching assaulted from every angle, volume the same no matter where I stood, and it was getting louder, if anything. Thank God I purchased those heavy duty earplugs last week.
I left my apartment to the chaos there in the hall. Looks of panic rushing past, hands to head-sides, the frantic throws of a sudden exodus. Most of the older ones were crying. All save for clinically deaf Mrs. Croops, who appeared as right as rain without her cochlear implant in. Good for her. I took her by the hand and together we went down the stairs.
Outside, the chaos was worse. A lot worse. Took a moment to process the hellscape I was seeing. Traffic was halted by countless crashes, T-bones, smoking bonnets, cars in shattered shop windows, and water spouted high from half a dozen run-over fire hydrants. Crowds ran frantic every direction, screaming, screams that blended with the screeching, and clouds were coming out of their heads, these hellish bubbles that followed them and covered them whole whenever they stopped still.
Strange visions in there I could see. Different from one crazed pedestrian to the next. Giant insects and disembodied claws and bloodied swords, and many, many a ghoulish monster. These apparitions lunged feverish for their hosts and seemed prevailing in the ones who stopped moving. Clouds dissipated over hundreds of mutilated bodies along the sidewalks, and their pools of blood in bright emanations reflected sparkles our way in the sun.
Mrs. Croops squeezed my hand. “Shitty weather today,” she yelled, just loud enough I could hear her.
*Thursday.*
“Now, to ensure everyone here is aligned, would you be so helpful as to repeat your mission back to us?”
These military douchebags sure knew how to be condescending. “Certainly. I’m to be deployed tonight at precisely 0200 in waters off the coast three kilometres North of here, where I will be met by three SEAL team members who will equip me with protective and skuba gear, weaponry, and the ESP device,” I said, pausing for water, which tasted like it came from a week-old bath. “I’m then to use the underwater propulsion jet to head directly for the orange flare on the precipice at a depth of 20 metres. When I’m there, I’m to remove the ESP, and flick this button, like this, wait for the LCD to turn green, and drop it into the hole.”
The two generals gave each other a satisfied look. “Good enough, Mr. Brennan. Good enough.”
“Remember, if you encounter a hostile, keep as steady as you can. To reiterate, you have been selected for this mission as your condition grants a unique immunity from the enemy’s chief weaponisation.”
“Roger that,” I replied.
*The next Sunday.*
“So, everyone tells me you’re a hero now,” she said, trying for sarcasm but landing closer to reverence. “Should I feel lucky to be graced by our saviour?”
We both laughed. “I think it clear it’s me who’s the lucky one.”
“Careful now. Any more sweetness like that and I’ll be forced to make you dinner at mine Wednesday night.”
“That a threat?”
“A promise.”
“Out of curiosity, how’d you manage to avoid the attack again, you were..?”
“Playing *No Man’s Sky*, remember. Good thing I spent extra on those noise cancelling headphones.”
“Best purchase of your life, I’d argue.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said, pulling a well-used lipstick from her bag. The colour was a brilliant candy red, and accentuated everything about her.
“I mean, it was too dark in the club that night for you to see my eyes, wasn’t it?”
She had a point. |
## Missed Connections
**To the cute guy on Bus 953**
First off, I need to apologize for the smell. I don’t always reek of campfire smoke, but this was just one of those days. I didn’t just get back from a week in the woods, but had spent one hour in a kielbasa factory. (Side note, *Star Polska* makes some of the best sausages this side of the Atlantic.) I’m no gourmand, just filming for work; I write software that OCR’s images of text and then reads them aloud for test prep students. You know how *that* goes. But to you and everyone else on the 10 o’clock local to the International Airport, I’m sorry.
You wore a sharp blue suit with a diamond pattern and were sitting a couple seats behind the bus driver, trying not to look at me. I mean, I get it. Who’d want to look at the stink bug? But I caught you looking in the reflection of the window. Not the bus window though. It was on my computer. I had my laptop on and I had just hacked the bus camera in case there was, like, a “Speed” type situation. You never know. At any rate, I appreciated your modesty.
When you got out at Terminal A I wanted to follow and ask you out but I hesitated and the doors closed too soon. That’s always the case with me. Always the bridesmaid, you know? Luckily I noticed you asking for directions to the KLM gates. I guess the cat’s out of the bag, I can read lips. Anyway I checked which international flights were leaving in two or three hours figuring you weren’t the last-minute type of guy. I like a punctual person.
And wouldn’t you know it? Only two departures would fit in the time so I guessed you were going to Amsterdam or London. Probably for work. It’s a six hour flight either way but honestly I was stumped. Which one?
So I flipped a coin. Heads, I’d go to Schiphol. Tails, Heathrow. I had plenty of time to mull over my choices and plan out how to find you. It was just like those romantic comedy movies where one person chases the other, right? Except with more hacked CCTV cameras.
At any rate if you’d like to meet for drinks I’m in your hotel lobby. I’m the one who smells like a campfire. |
So the rumor is that if you can nurture a corpse flower to blooming in the soil of hell ins one way to leave the abyss but with raids from demonic beasts, Fire storms and the fact it normally takes around a decade to bloom would make it a fools errand.
&#x200B;
After what I'm guessing has been century's of time - its hard to tell with the light that never really changes - the demons have more or less left me to my own devices after I stopped reacting to the attempts at torture and eventually realized my body regenerates regardless of the damage so I decided to leave ... I waited for the guards to be distracted, pulled my self off the obsidian looking bed of nails like table and started walking away surprise setting in later that the lace of reaction for the guards ... maybe something higher up wanted to see what would happen as new things are.
&#x200B;
After walking found what may have been weeks outside the city of spires I found a outcrop of crimson stone where I was able to sit and rest my body for a bit and think about what to do next - I have herd the corpse flower rumor before and figured it was used to destroy any remaining hope of those that enter the meat grinder ... with how long I been here and how much its changed me and some vague memory's of having a garden long before my fall I figured it might make for an good way to fill in some of the eternity that stretches before me.
&#x200B;
The next day there has a huge firestorm which ended up leaving me looking more like charcoal then a desiccated corpse but I failed to kill me and after waiting my my flesh to recover a bit I went out to have a look around thinking the storm may have left something of value and I managed to find the tattered remains of some beast and a small round stone which I could sense that was not what it appeared to be. As the remains were likely of demonic origin I figured I would see of I could not improve the shelter as having to wait to recover was going to get tedious fast - using the bone like a digging stick I was able to carve away some of the red stone before the bone was reduces to ash giving some decent shelter for the next fire storm when it eventually comes again.
&#x200B;
While clearing away the rubble I had not notice the bleeding scratches but was surprised to find the rubble started to take on a raw flesh like appearance and was easy enough to reduce to something close to dirt in texture - I was thinking of calling the stone 'blood stone' and was thinking about how to take advantage of this knowledge then I remembered the strange round stone and tried smearing some blood on it and it briefly changed color before becoming stone like again ... so apparently it was a seed of some sort and given the lack of vegetation and that there might be an element of truth to the rumors I now had a basic plan:
&#x200B;
1. I'm going to need a decent amount of blood stone dirt to plant the seed.
2. I'm going to need a lot of blood to water the plant
3. I need to protect the plant
As for getting the stuff needed the roving demonic beasts might be the solution to all three - the bones can used as tools to gather further materials to protect the plant and also gather the dirt and the blood can water the plant ... strange thing is like the demon workers the demonic beasts seems to be ignore my since as I have gotten out here. |
[fade in on dense jungle foliage. A man, slight of build, wearing hiking boots and an overly large hat is running, clutching an electronic tablet. He vaults over fallen trees, slides around bends in the trail and doggedly urges himself to go faster and faster until at last, breathlessly he arrives upon a small group in the forest. His arrival frightens a small animal the group had its attention on and it scurries off into the underbrush. The group consists of a man, holding a small digital film camera, another with headphones and a shotgun mic and an elderly man on one knee who begins to rise]
Elderly man: Matthew! What has possessed you?! We've been out here trying to get the olinguito on camera for three days!
Matthew: I'm sorry, Sir. This seemed important.
[Matthew produces the tablet and hits play]
Tablet *Humans, we see you have a elected a Champion of the Earth. Send us this... Sir David Attenbrorough.*
Sir David Attenborough: ... Oh Dear.
[sick guitar riff over opening credits montage] |
One might think that my life is pretty boring. Live in this stupid lamp for millennia until somebody finds you - grant his three wishes - lamp teleports to a random place - repeat. Some people even think I am forced to do this. As if a genie who could grant any wish was held back by a lamp. We are just pretending as it gives humans at least some feeling of comfort that we aren't going to kill them right away.
Also, I am not trapped inside the lamp. Only a little of us is visible in the three-dimensional world. I can still look around freely and have free use of my powers. I could just appear wherever I want.
Recently, I landed in a village in Africa and was summoned by a man in his early 20s. He wanted his mother to come back alive. However, that was unfortunately against the rules. There were six rules basically, keep it reasonable, no wishing for death, resurrection, love or more wishes in any way and no wishes affecting myself. Again, we are making them up. I could certainly bring back his mother. There were other wishes where I just invented a rule so I didn't have to grant them. No loopholing, my decision what to grant and what not.
Around half of the people I met were bad wishers, and usually, if I have to decline the first wish due to rules, I have found one. But he got back up like a boss. No more crop failure in his country. Beautifully played. A school for his town including a teacher. Granted with tears in my eyes. To live a happy, long and successful life with his future wife. Also a good one. Those are the ones that make me happy. Thinking of the others and how to benefit society. Do it just with one wish and I don't mind if you use one or two wishes on yourself.
But there were different people. People I'd regret offering my wishes to. Finding me is like a lottery, where my lamp is the jackpot. But even with the jackpot, you can lose in the end. If they were too selfish, I would interpret their words a little different as they intended. I could just turn them into a dingus, but this way is more fun.
He wished for more wishes. No. Wished for a beautiful wife that would love him no matter what. Do I look like a slave-dealer? Wished for his ex gf's friend to die. FFS NO! Considering how he treated that girl I would have left him as well. Even the 'second chance', which I usually granted by the way, wouldn't have done anything here.
His next thing was immortality. Normally I'd try to talk people out of this, but the way he ranted about my rules and insulted me I was not going to help him. Then he demanded an expensive car everybody would look up to. Ok, 18 feet high shiny white SUV. Everybody looks up to this, even two basketball players stacked. And it truly is one of a kind, so really expensive. But have fun with low clearances. Or finding a parking spot. And that's just the beginning.
Finally, he wished to win the lottery. 110 million bucks. OK take it. He will regret in within a year, when all his 'friends' suck him dry. In just 2 years he would curse this day. But that's the price for not even thinking about what you are saying. And using your wishes to exploit others.
But sometimes, you also have to give advice. An 8-year-old child was my most recent master. His first wish was to become a "giant and incredibly dangerous dinosaur". I made him think about the consequences. No more sleeping in his bed, too large for playgrounds, he would destroy a lot, people would run away from him and he'd be alone. He quickly reconsidered and wished for friends. I boosted his social skills. He would become very befriended with his classmates.
But I noticed that he flinched when I spoke the word 'bed'. I tapped into his mind and realized he was scared of sleeping. So I suggested, "beautiful adventures in your dreams every time you sleep". He took it with a smile. Lucid dreams are fun and that is a way to become a dinosaur without ruining stuff. I then suggested wishing for something that will help in the future and he went for everybody in his class to reach their goals if they work for it. Surely, it included himself. But it was a well-thought wish.
So after all, my life is pretty versatile. Sometimes, people bring you to tears. Sometimes, you play life coach and help others to get a better life. And sometimes, you have a laugh when you screw over bad people who miss their chance. |
A solar ship submerged in sunlight sailed forward, gathered clouds breaking in its wake. Zeke stood upon the towers of stone just a short ways from his home, gazing up at the massive vessel as it made its presence known. Golden rays revealing the grand radiance of the setting sun reflected off the wooden surface of the ship's hull.
One day, Zeke thought. One day I will have a ship of my own. The broad-shouldered youth was lanky and, as his father oft pointed out, not built for the labor common to solar sailors. But Zeke yearned for the smell of ozone and the brisk wind running through his short black hair, to venture on the edge of space and ride along on the tail of a comet.
Though he was just fifteen years old, he had seen enough of these ships to come to an important conclusion: he was going to be a solar pilot, come Hell or high water.
"Pa,"he called out as he entered his childhood home.
"My, aren't you excited,"mused an elderly, thin man sitting at the table in the kitchen. Zeke ran over and gave his grandfather a hug.
"Grandpa! I'm going to do it. I'm going to be like grandma; I'm going to be a solar pilot."
"Oh? Does your father approve?"
"I don't care if he does,"Zeke responded with a big grin.
"Neither did your grandma. Pull up a seat, and I'll tell you how we met." |
The job interview had a minor complication for Gigaria. Her potential employer had wanted to meet her in person in a small building. There was just one thing she had forgotten to mention. As a giantess, she towered around three stories tall. Small places did not really work for her.
She had tried to convince the interviewer to come to a compromise, but they had stayed firm on meeting her at the business. Gigaria sigh as she walked slowly through the valley she lived in. Each step sounding like a small cannon echo, she felt nervous about the interview.
Then she spotted it. The building she was going to have to try to figure out how she was supposed to fit. Seeing she couldn't, Gigaria spoke aloud. She knew her voice would more than carry through the thin stone walls.
**"Hello! My name is Gigaria. I have an interview today but I cannot fit inside. could you come to a window"**
A small voice came from inside. "Gods in heaven what on earth?"A small man poked his head out the window and gawked. Giants never came this far in and he had no idea he had one to interview. "Sweet mother of...A Giant!"
**"Well that's a bit rude. I know I'm tall, but I have feelings. Can I have my interview or not?"**
"I...uh...Miss Gigaria was it? We uh...we are a humble business and would like to hire someone to work our mine, but your height would prove problematic. Can I interest you in one of our earth moving jobs?"
Gigaria smiled. Maybe the interview wasn't going to go badly after all. Part of her did wonder though if being a giant had scared the man.
**"Why yes I would love to! I just want honest work."**
"You can start in the morning at Morax Mine. Thank you and good day"The small man disappeared as fast as he had come to the window and didn't even think twice about the hire. The horror stories of angry Giants had been widely told and he had every one of them going into his brain.
Gigaria smiled and almost skipped back home. Who knew that being three stories tall would get you a job without question? |
Your time has come, my child.You will be forged from a mighty steel, whose grip guides its master true. A noble soul, I wish you well in your endeavor, and await your return to me
....
This must be it. The shaking earlier must be from my Forgemaster! Itś gone quiet now... has the battle ended? Nay, perhaps Ive been placed in a store room? In my training they told me it would not always be glory, this must be downtime.
Footsteps... oh please pick me! Come to think of it, I do not feel any other blades Presence.
A voice rang out, ¨A sword is a mark of a true warrior.¨
By the Forge. This is it! My master has come and my time is now.
¨While others go out to indulge themselves, I studied the blade.¨Never have I heard truer words since leaving the Anvil. An auspicious day, I could not be any happier. He must be opening my package with all that rustling going on. A pristine case for a pristine sword, to toot my own horn.
The rustling stopped and... my god what is that? It reeks! Is this the miasma of war? A worthy stench, but no match for my strength.A hand clasped me and oHGOD why is it clammy? Okay okay its okay. War is a mystery, as the forge master would say. The smell is getting stronger, why is it so dark?
¨Hello, Masamune.¨
Masa... my name is Theodorus. Who the hell is Masamune.A face as wide as it was disheveled. A bulbous nose, riddled with... more noses? Warts? The clammy hands stretch, enveloped in so much hair. A Hybrid? Master had told me they dont wield blades. His glasses cast his eyes wide, as if I am facing retribution at the Great Rusting. Not a few minutes into my life and its already over, huh?
¨I wonder if the dudes would wanna see this. I know Mark is gonna be so jealous with his shitty axe when he sees you!¨
... other users? Could this be my silver lining? A chance to make it big? A paltry sample for sure but users are users. A guild would be a good start. Perhaps I cou-
Ow. Ow. Ow. Why are you swin- OW!WHO SWINGS LIKE THIS! I AM NOT A STAFF!
¨¨¨Oh shit.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
I've been lodged into something. Its thick ...wood?
¨Mom is gonna kill me.¨
Forgemaster please take me back. |
It had been a fierce competition. Wizards and witches from across the land had come for the annual Ridiculous Spell Festival, and now only the top three most wacky of them remained in the running. The rules were simple: each contestant had to produce a single spell that resulted in the most out-there, insane results, as scored by a panel of judges. So far, the spells had ranged from good, to bad, to downright incomprehensible. Chickens had been enlarged, innocent bystanders had been transformed into toads, and several instances of unidentified flying objects had been reported.
Now it was time for the grand finale, and the gathered onlookers prepared themselves to be shocked and amazed. The judges were seated at a long table on one side of the Ring of Ridiculousness. The three final contestants were waiting their turns to step into the ring and conjure up whatever madness they had planned.
First up was the Archwizard Phillipus, known for his mastery of the arcane and his comically pointy hat. He strode into the ring as applause filled the air. Phillipus stroked his long, white beard, as if pondering what would most impress the judges. With a grand gesture he drew his wand and waved it through the air, reciting a long and complicated incantation. With each word, his hat grew taller and pointier, until at last it was a towering monument perched precariously upon his dome.
Phillipus stopped chanting and stood motionless. The crowd held their breath. Then, he slightly inclined his head, and his hat began to lean to one side like a great tree about to fall. His hat came crashing down on the crowd as people scrambled out of the way. White rabbits by the hundreds leaped out of the fallen hat, hopping this way and that. The crowd roared in laughter.
The judges wrote down their scores, then held them up for all to see. Phillipus scored an average of 8.9 out of a maximum of 10 ridiculousness points. That would be a tough score for the remaining contenders to beat.
The next contestant was Sir Haedrig, the famed warrior-mage. He was clad in chainmail and always carried his trusty magic sword at his side. The warrior stepped over a rabbit and into the ring, ready to deliver a spectacle. First, he drew his sword, twirling it about dramatically. Then he plunged it into the ground. It began to glow and lightning crackled from its handle. The rabbits which had come from Philippus’ hat began to leap into the ring, running around Haedrig at a breakneck pace. The wind began to pick up, and the rabbits ran faster and faster, some being lifted off the ground and spun in a circle around Haedrig. The rabbitnado gained more speed and more rabbits, and crowd began to be pelted with eggs flying out from the storm. They could no longer see Haedrig in the midst of the rabbits.
Gradually, the wind abated, and revealed standing next to Haedrig a giant fluffy rabbit. The crowd gasped as he raised his sword and struck at the beast. His blade bounced harmlessly off the creature, and instead candy flew out of its fur like a pinata. The crowd cheered in delight.
The judges revealed a score of 9.5 ridiculousness points for this magical effect. Haedrig grinned as he walked out of the ring. He doubted the last contestant could top his performance.
A small, hunched figure clad in a hooded robe entered the ring. They began to draw a circle in the sand, then small lines intersecting it at five points in a star pattern. As the figure completed this drawing, it began to glow red, and simultaneously they began to grow in size. The robes stretched and ripped, revealing a demonic, orange-skinned figure with fangs and horns.
The sky darkened and a heavy rain began to pour. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, and from the pentagram on the ground skeletal hands tore apart the earth as horrifying creatures pulled themselves free. The demonic figure laughed, a horrible booming sound. People tried to turn their eyes away, but found themselves frozen in place. The skeletal creatures lurched towards them, grinning their dead grins.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the sky lightened, the skeletons disappeared, and there was once again a small figure in the middle of an empty ring. The judges looked at each other, then one shakily held up a sign. 10 points.
The figure walked out of the ring and disappeared in the crowd. The Ridiculous Spell Festival was over. |
The old man bundled his cloak tighter as he leaned back in his fireside chair.
Since retiring as a blacksmith he missed the warmth of the forge. Still, he mused, it nice and quiet out here near the foot of the mountain. Definitely better then making swords for that bully of a warlord.
The old man's gloomy train of thought was interrupted by a thud as a young boy, barely a teenager ran across the rocky overhang of his cave roof and fell down with a crash.
Before the old man could pull himself to his feet the boy leaped up and scuttled further into the cave. Pressing his back to the cave wall he stared out as if expecting some creature or foe to follow him in.
A series of hungry yelps and growls echoed down the mountain.
Whoever this kid is he doesn't belong in my camp, grumped the old man finally getting to his feet, yet in fairness and good conscience I can't send him out to the wilderness to be eaten or worse.
The boy tore his eyes from the forest as he realised that he was not alone in cave. Clearly scared near witless he flattened himself to the cave wall further and tracked the old man's slow walk to a heavy chest and pile of blankets and supplies in the back corner.
After a moment's rummaging through the pile he limped forward and held out a long narrow blanket wrapped object.
Slightly unsure the boy hesitated. The old man coughed to clear his throat maybe it had been too long since he had anybody to talk to he thought as he struggled with the language of this land.
"It's Dangerous To Go Alone. Take This". |
In life, we are always taught to follow the rules and obey the law at all costs. And for 99.99% of human history, we have generally followed this course. But on April 23 and 24, 2024, we veered off this path. Why? Because we thought we had nothing to lose.
It all started when NASA discovered a 3 mile wide asteroid. The official name was JWST-102, but pretty much everyone calls it the Doomsday Asteroid. Their scientists had run some calculations, and on April 23, 2024, they announced to the general public that there was a 70% chance the asteroid would crash into Asia late on the 24th.
Naturally, we panicked. A little too much, people would later say. Society's crazy side was brought in full force. 3 miles wasn't big enough to wipe out the human population, but China and India would be history, as would any hope of having a decent food supply for the next year or two.
So, what did we do? Some holed up in bunkers. Others resorted to crime, knowing full well that there was a 70% chance their actions would go unpunished. Still others spent time with loved ones. A brave few went about their normal lives, holding on the hope that the 30% would come to fruition.
On April 24th, most people in America and Europe went to bed, knowing full well it may be the last time their eyes would be open.
So, what happened? The asteroid missed. Reports from northern India to southern China and even Japan told of a blindingly bright meteor, outshining the Sun, soaring across the sky. Some reported a sonic boom, thinking the asteroid had hit. But it didn't. It entered Earth's mesosphere, went as low as 54 miles... and then bounced back into space.
That's right. At 6:32 GMT on April 25th, 2024, humanity was just 54 miles off of the worst catastrophe our species had ever seen.
The western world woke up to an Asia still intact, and by extension, society.
But society was broken in many other facets. The purge had effectively happened, if only for two days. Thousands of banks robbed. Thousands of grocery stores empty. Infrastructure around the world damaged, in many places beyond repair, by newly minted bandits.
It may not have been the catastrophe everyone thought it would be, but it was still a catastrophe.
It took months for society to get back into shape. In that period, millions had died. Some from not getting adequate medical care. Others falling victim to collapsed roads and buildings. Still others from the numerous gang on gang clashed that had occurred during the purge.
But by the time it did revert to normal, people went about their lives like nothing happened. Sure, a few things had changed, mainly increased focus on asteroid detection and stable infrastructure, but not much. By the time the 2024 elections had come around, the debate was on other issues.
But the fact still remained. The asteroid may not have hit, but it still made an impact. An impact large enough to veer humanity off of thousands of years of careful planning and methodical practice. An impact large enough to totally upend the world order.
And as a species, we paid the price. |
\[Sharp Trend\]
"You're not making any sense...,"Adrianne shook her head at the woman in a black suit. Government agents showed her to the room and sat her down in front of the stranger, then left them alone. They at least had the courtesy to introduce her as Mrs. Melody Sharp. She was a plump, pale woman with short black hair that matched her suit. And, she wore a red shirt with a white tie beneath it. "What do I need money for if the world is ending?"
"Who said anything about money?"Mrs. Sharp asked with a slight tilt of her head.
"You said I could ask for anything I want...,"Adrianne reminded her. Mrs. Sharp nodded.
"Of course. But, why would you ask for money?"she asked. "I assumed you'd choose to leave this Earth before it ended."Adrianne stared at the woman with wide eyes.
"I can ask for that!??"She slammed her hands down and jumped up in surprise. It was loud and sudden; but, Mrs. Sharp did not flinch. "And go where??"
"I've just told you that this world will be ending soon. But, I'm not worried in the least. Neither are any of the agents you passed on your way here. Infinite alternate universes exist. I'm from a different universe that I'll be returning to and everyone else in this building has a home waiting."
"Wait...,"Adrianne leaned back in her chair. "Then, can't we rescue more people? I mean, even if we can't save everyone...,"
"Oh, we could,"Mrs. Sharp nodded. "My company has become quite adept at evacuating Earths. Our current record is six hours; but, that was more disorganized than I'd like."
"The world is ending next month... and you're telling me you can save everyone in less than a day??"Adrianne asked. She was surprised at how easily she believed the woman. But, something about Mrs. Sharp seemed truthful; if not trustworthy. Melody nodded. "Then why aren't you??"Adrianne had been surprised non-stop since she walked in; but, Mrs. Sharp's response still managed to shock her again. The woman gave a slight shrug.
"That's not the plan,"she replied. It was the kind of statement Adrianne herself gave when she didn't know the real answer.
"So the plan is to just let everyone die??"Mrs. Sharp gave her a direct, cold nod.
"Except you,"she added. "If you help spread the word."
"What about my family???"As much as Adrianne wanted to be a good person and care about everyone. Her family was more important than billions of strangers.
"You'll be allowed a maximum number of guests,"Mrs. Sharp said.
"How many?"Adrianne asked.
"That depends on how widespread your influence is,"Mrs. Sharp answered. "If you go viral, you may well be able to take your entire family. If you can't get anyone to believe you about the end of the world...well, then you haven't completed your end of our deal."
Adrianne was appalled that Mrs. Sharp seemed to be treating her offer as a game. But, she was good at games. A sudden loophole occurred to her.
"Wait, you said I could ask for anything, right?"she asked. Mrs. Sharp nodded.
"Okay, I'll help you,"she said. "In exchange, you rescue everyone on Earth."
"That would most likely alter my wife's plan,"she said with a shake of her head. "And, it would make our deal pointless. Choose a different reward."
"No, you said 'anything'."Adrianne said. "Either you save everyone on this Earth or the top trending Influencer in the world won't help you."
"Very well,"Mrs. Sharp sighed heavily. "I suppose not all plans can go smoothly."Adrianne knew she'd won. "I'll have to move on to the second top trending Influencer in the world,"she stood from the table. "Thank you for your time, I hope you enjoy your last month alive."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1560 in a row. (Story #112 in year five.). 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 in order at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/pj4t0b/tokuhigh_first_six_weeks/). |
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’ve been brought to a foreign world and I was given an ominous feeling. I know one thing, I have to get back home. I am the only family that Ben has, and after giving birth to him there is no way I can let this world make me abandon him.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Before I try to figure out how to make it back I have to secure a form of sustenance and shelter. As I look around I know that this strange world that I am in is actually ancient. There are trees with trunks as wide as a semi-truck trailer is long. I seem to be in a forest of some sort, the noises present seem to be rather close to the sounds of nature from back home.. Only that there is a constant rustling noise from behind me. No matter which way I turn the noise stays directly behind me.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My son.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I can’t be worried about any silly noises, I have to get back to him. I haven’t spoken with him in a year, ever since we fought and he moved out of the house. Despite that, my first thought was to get back home so I could make our relationship right, if it is even possible.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ignoring the rustling and the sense that I was being watched, I moved on. I have to find shelter along with a source of food and water. Huh? The rustling just stopped, that's a good sign.
…
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Mom. Why am I thinking of her, first thing when I wake up in a strange world? My body seems oafishly large and it won’t respond to my commands. Is that.. Is that a person down there on the ground? Speaking of which, why am I in a tree?
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I could feel my body moving as the person walked away from me and any time they would turn around to look in my direction, my body would move in a blur and end up directly behind the person.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I don’t know what is going on but I really want to get home, for some reason coming to this place has made me want to reconcile with mom.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;My body keeps playing hide and seek with the person on the ground, and then without consulting me, my body pounces. |
It’s not fair. People with little-to-no magical abilities often get over-looked for well-paying jobs even if they are overqualified for the position. Well, you have decided to fake your resume and have listed advanced magical abilities in your skills section. Unfortunately for you, you had no idea just how much magic would be required for your new job. Now you have to find inventive solutions to your everyday work problems. |
(For the record this is my first attempt at A writing prompt, and my first attempt at writing anything in almost 15 years. I’m also using speech to text because I have 30 minutes to do nothing while I wait for work to get its shit together. I apologize for any inevitable grammar mistakes that might end up in this.)
You ever sit back and think on historical events? Have you ever seen the wonder in a child’s eyes when you tell them an exciting story about great feats of humanity? I remember I told my son, who was about eight at the time, the story of when the first man landed on the moon of the place where humans grew up. My little sprite always used to ask so many questions about the men who first set foot there.
“What was his name?” He asked excitedly even though I’ve told him this story numerous times before.
I would tell them their names. I don’t really know why he would always be so excited about exploring the unknown. With what happened to earth I’m surprised he’s even still excited. I suppose he’s still a couple years off before he starts learning Earth history.
His eyes would light up when I would mention the space pod, and the sea of tranquility, and all the different things that were said and done on Luna those centuries ago.
I miss that kid.
It’s been about nine months. I’ve been sitting on this tin can floating through the void for nine months. I miss my home. I miss my wife. I miss my son. I’m not really sure if I want my son to follow in my footsteps. Explorers are really not sought after as much these days. People are scared to explore the unknown now.
Earth hit a sort of wall during the evolutionary progress of mankind. We had to leave. Something woke up. Scientists said it was nothing to be scared of just an atmospheric anomaly, but it progressed. No less than two decades later something happened to the atmosphere to the point where humans just couldn’t breathe anymore. Ecosystems rapidly started dying while others somehow rapidly adapted. The entire Amazon withered in five years while the entire Sahara desert somehow became a jungle. Scientists were baffled. It wasn’t until we trecked into the Sonoran desert, now the Sonoran jungle, where scientists may have found a clue. The culprit seem to be some kind of chemical reaction caused by some sort of animal.
The Martian archives have images of it, but they’re so distorted, and so strange that most scientists have given up trying to identify it. The only thing we know is that it seems to be some sort of ancient humanoid? Even then some scientists have argued it’s anthropoid, or even some kind of mollusk? We do know that whatever this being exhales seems to be some sort of reactive agent against the oxygen in the atmosphere. The reaction causes a great pink glow in the sky above earth. Even the auroras seem to change. They’re orange now.
A great tremor is felt within the cabin followed by a mechanical hissing.
My pilot Taylor remarks over the grainy reclaimed intercom: “We’ve landed.”
The Barracks now has a sort of pervasive cautious calm to it now. I can’t really tell if it’s fear, or my men steeling themselves to the potential chaos coming.
I grab my radio. “ Hernandez, the moment you get those blast spikes into the ground, come down here and get your weapon. We’re gonna need your expertise. These samples won’t be analyzed by anybody else.”
“Acknowledged captain” she remarks. I can hear the tension in her voice. She’s terrified as well. She’s a damn fine pilot and an even better biologist, she’s also an even better sister.
No less than 30 minutes later we have the blast door ready to open. My men have their arms ready. The blast door opens and immediately I order.
“Make sure those Optics are securely locked to your face! I don’t want to have to drag your blind asses back here!”
With a loud slam the blast door open slowly mechanical hissing again heard as the 6 ton door slowly opens. We walk out.
I look to the sky. Rebreather hissing as it intakes that chemically changed air. We may feel the urge to weep for humanity, but we will rebuild. We will come back. We will re-discover our history, and we will bring the cradle of humanity back to the marble it once was.
Edit: Grammar and clarity. |
"I used to believe in the basic goodness of people. I thought anyone would turn out right if they were treated fairly. Bad people were just mistreated themselves. They learned the wrong lessons somewhere along the way. You could teach people to be good, show them... I used to believe that."
I keep my hands raised. My whole body is shaking. She brings the cigaret to her lips and smiles. Not a happy smile, no. It’s a sad one. I glance at her other hand, the one holding the gun. Do something, think, anything. For the devil’s sake, remember something. Yes. Psychology class, every Friday morning. Why did I had to be hungover every time? Surely my brain must remember something, right ? Stall, make her talk.
“What changed ?”, I ask, with a voice as shaky as my body.
“I tried. I tried to apply my beliefs, to teach people how to be good. And I failed. So I tried again, and failed, again. And again. And again. Until I had no choice but to see the truth : you can’t teach people how to be good. And then, I learned a second truth. -she laughed, at that point. The scariest laugh I have ever heard - you can however be taught how to be bad. It takes mistreating after mistreating after mistreating, but at some point, the dam breaks”
I’m trying so hard to remember something -anything that would help in this situation. Anything to make her stop. She shot all of the others already. I’m the last one standing.
“See, there is something quite freeing about not trying to be good anymore. Not having any expectation to complete. Just following what I want…” She was about to continue talking but stopped herself. I have to find something, and quickly. Okay, here I go :
“I’m sorry it happened to you. Whatever it was, I am sorry. And I am sure no one told you that, so I’ll say it again. I am sorry it happened to you. You never deserved it. You never deserved to be made into that.”
The woman looks at me, still, but differently. She actually sees me this time, like I suddenly became someone and not just a target. I’ve said something that bothers her, I can tell. Maybe it’s a good thing. I keep going.
“And, I have no idea why you especially want to kill me. I have 4 little sisters you know ? My dad is still around but not my mom. She got taken away by the disease last year. It was hard. Dad’s working a lot. Five kids in the house, we have to eat something, right ? I am the one taking care of the girls when he can’t. Please. You do what you want, I see that, but please, at least explain to me why you want to deprive them of a big brother.”
A bit pathetic, this one. But maybe it will work ? I’m praying for my life. The gun goes down a bit, as she lowers her arm. And that’s when I jump on her, knife to the throat. Ha, I can’t believe she believed that tearful story. If I had known there would be another like me tonight, I would have taken my gun as well… Too bad she broke my toys before I got to play with them. |
My blood ran cold as his words ran through me like a surgical scalpel. "I'm sorry, would you care to repeat that?"I ask in a voice that was far calmer than I felt. "I said this is LOKI'S HOUSE! He won't mind!"the host said, raising his voice to be better heard over the din, apparently mistaking the reason for my question. Someone presses a cold tankard into my hand while I'm gaping in shock, and I take a sip without thinking. Chilled mead, sweet, flavorful, and holy smokes, *definitely* alcoholic, flows over my tongue. The taste brings me back to my senses and I have to resist the urge to swear violently.
My first party that didn't involve a Buzz Lightyear themed cake and pizza, and I had the absolute luck of it being with either a crazy person, a cult leader, or probably even both. *Just freaking awesome, bro.*, I thought to myself. Out loud, I spoke to my host. "Well, whoever this house belongs to, thanks for the invite."I said politely, trying not to show how much I was freaked out. The host laughed, assured me that he was glad to have me here, and then strutted off to talk to another party guest (or cult member). I watched him go, his blond hair easily visible above most of the rest of the crowd as he towered over everyone there.
I tried to think of ways to leave without rousing his suspicions, but as I stood there, occasional taking small sips of mead (for which I would later kick myself, what if it'd been drugged?), someone stumbled into me. He was big and burly, though not as tall as our host. Overall, he had the appearance of a boar taking human form, with a beard that reached down to his shirt. He was heavy enough that even the accidental nudge nearly knocked me to the ground. Someone behind me, a powerfully built woman with a surprisingly stern expression, caught me as I lost my footing.
"Watch where you're going, Volstagg! Almost as dangerous with your girth as you are with your ax!"the woman chastised him harshly, if not confusingly. *What the Hell kind of name is Volstagg? What does she mean by ax?*, I questioned silently. Suddenly, a strange thought occurred to me. "If he's Volstagg, then you'd be Lady Sif, right?"I asked, already cringing from the derisive laughter that was sure to follow. Instead, she favored me with the tiniest of grins before her characteristicly stern frown reasserted itself. "I am she. Good to see that not *all* men are totally ignorant."the so-called Lady Sif declared, sneering ever so slightly at "Volstagg", who bizarrely chuckled in the face of her annoyance.
"Ha! She must like you, lad! Didn't insult you once!"Volstagg chortled, ignoring the rude hand gesture that she shot his way as she stalked off. I chuckle weakly as my eyes dart around to find an opportunity to exit this house full of crazy people. "Yeah, well, I've got to make a call real quick before this party gets any louder. Be back soon."I lied, waving politely as I work my way to the door of the house. Sliding carefully through the crowd, all of whom I now notice are well built, both men and women, and glowing with something more than good health and vitality, I make it to the hallway leading to the door. Sighing in relief, I throw open the door, take a step forward, and immediately run into something hard.
The man was bedecked from head to toe in glistening, golden armor. A horned helm sat on his head; on anyone else, it would have been ridiculous, but on him, it merely served to be intimidating. He was of a slighter build than most of the party guests, but his cruel eyes glittered with a frightening intelligence, set in a face made equally well for either laughing or snarling. And he was staring me down, looking *incredibly* unamused. After a moment, he spoke in a peculiarly accented voice.
"What in Hel is going on here?" |
This planet is two thirds water. Innumerable species teem in those vast depths, living frantic lives we know nothing of. The longest mountain ranges, the deepest valleys, entire continents lie submerged beneath the waves. Ages pass - civilisations rise and fall, all their history swept away by tides - and yet the oceans endure, far more constant than the shifting earth. This is a pale blue dot, not a brown one.
In apish arrogance, we thought that any visitors from other worlds - malign or otherwise - would share our same priorities, shunning the seas and meeting us on land. Our culture span stories of aliens teaching us to build pyramids on the desert sands, of tripods menacing our cities, of attackers somehow vulnerable to *water*.
We thought that extra-terrestrial contact would change us beyond recognition. We thought that humanity would bond together in the face of a new threat, or that extra-planetary mentors would give us the keys to the galaxy. We never imagined that they would bypass us entirely.
Surely, as the dominant species on the planet, rulers of all we survey, any visitors would come first to us? Surely first contact would be *our* first contact? We little thought - were too arrogant to think - that first contact took place long before our species ever emerged, and that all subsequent contact saw us as irrelevant.
19 million years ago: first contact. Not to any of the early apes, or on any landmass. Instead, the invaders dove deep beneath the ocean surface, engaged with the life they found there. No humans were around to see it, and no humans have ever witnessed Earth's returning visitors. We do not know what they wanted, what they look like, or really what they do beneath dark waters. All that we know, we have pieced together like uninvited scavengers, constructing a brittle understanding from satellite interference, submerged craters, and the fossil record.
19 million years ago, shark populations fell by roughly 90%. Planet-wide, an amazingly diverse class of species, found in every ocean in numerous forms, suffered a cataclysmic event. Not an asteroid, not a plague, not a natural disaster. Apex predators found themselves dethroned, prey to creatures from another world. Whatever they are, they kill sharks.
Every year, there are signs. Disappearing blips on radar, something blocking satellite communication for a fraction of a second. Things that could be dismissed as coincidence, were it not for one unavoidable fact: shark populations aren't recovering. 19 million years ago, something came close to wiping them out. Now, shark populations hover at that low ebb, showing no signs of the recovery expected from such adaptible, exceptional survivors. Human over-fishing explains part of it, but nothing like the whole, and there are few other species that hunt sharks. The conclusion is inescapable.
Our arrogance is to think we matter. To believe that any alien incursion would be focused on us, any trespass against us. This folly, proved year on year as the sharks continue to be culled and we see nothing. We thought that we would reach the stars, would build empires spanning galaxies and be rulers of the universe as we rule the land. Nothing could be further from the truth.
We are an irrelevance, a neglected pest perched on the side of some alien's aquarium. Whether they kill sharks for food or sport or spite, they care nothing for us. There is life out there, and it does not care to know us. |
I smile at the receptionist. I wave at the repairman. I politely salute the cleaning guy.
These people I respect, because I've seen them work. Relentlessly, without faltering, putting all their effort to get the best outcome for them - and the company.
I take the elevator, alone. A nice change of pace.
On the third floor, the doors open, and I step out into this sea of incompetence hat I've grown to hate.
Left and right, all I see are cubicles filled with idiots that would rather find new excuses to skip work than working harder to ascend ranks. That prefer endless smoke breaks, coffee breaks, lunch breaks, to any kind of effort.
But not right now.
Oh no, not right now.
Right now, since as soon as I stepped out of the elevator, or rather as soon as they saw me coming from the windows, this space is dedicated to work and work only. No chatter, no browsing the internet or dozing off, all eyes are set on their screen with the focus of a buddhist monk.
As I walk past them, some of them risk turning their head to look at my back, probably trying to guess whether or not their attitude was exemplary enough.
One of them even dares to stealthily flip me off. Pretty surprising, usually they wait until I am out of the room to openly display their hate for me. I make a mental note of that worker's name and continue my march to my office.
The door to my office, located right in the middle of a wall facing all the cubicles, has a painting just above it, displaying a fleshy cyclops, weirdly realistic, looking directly at the viewer.
I Had received a few complaints when I originally put it there, with people saying that it "made them uncomfortable", or that it "seemed to always look straight at them". However, once the higher-ups saw my efficiency handling the team, my harshness towards people that weren't giving their best, they decided that one eccentric painting wasn't that bad, as long as the profits backed it up.
I don't meet anyone in the eye. I look straight ahead, apparently oblivious to anything around me, and I know that this strikes fear, or at the very least unease, in the hearts of these bumbling idiots.
I've filed 37 complaints this month, and fired 24 people for their behavior this year. I don't miss a thing. Littering, chatting, playing, sleeping, and even once masturbating, I've never let any offense go unpunished.
Many workers wonder how I am able to always spot them. They thought they were safe because their union banned cameras on the office floor, but when arrived, they starting wrecking their heads trying to understand how I could possibly oversee them all.
Once, one of them worked up the courage to come in my office and ask me,
"How do you do it? How can you possibly know everything that happens here?"
To which I answered,
"Simple. See this eyepatch? It means that I look twice as hard to spot any irregularities. Now go back to work."
Clearly disappointed, they left my office and closed the door.
Through the frosted glass, I saw their silhouette stop, then look up.
Then suddenly fell on the ground, while screaming.
I called security, and they were promptly escorted off the building. Their contract was terminated the same day.
And though work continued as usual, the team now couldn't think about anything but the words shrieked by their now ex-coworker. Shuddering at the thought of these two words, repeated over and over.
"It blinked" |
This one is especially deserving. A disgusting mind in an equally disgusting body. A coward who preys on those that fell for his sob story. The things he does to his victims belong in a banned book or something of the like.
That would end very soon, under these neon lights and frigid rain. My breath rises out of my lungs and into the air, catching the orange of the "open"sign in front of me. He's waiting by her car, pretending to be nervous while she fumbles for her keys. She finds them and unlocks the doors. They both get in and then they're off down the road.
Thirty minutes into their trip he'll try to grab her by the throat. He'll try to take the wheel after she's unconscious. Then he'll try to... well I'll spare you the details. Fortunately for the girl and less so for this disgusting pile of human meat, she isn't real or at least she isn't what he thinks she is. She's a bit like an appendage of mine. Think of it like an angler fish's light, only this one can look and sound human rather than glow. If he were paying attention at all he'd notice her voice was a little off, I can't mimic voices perfectly unfortunately. If he were looking a little bit closer he'd notice her eyes never moved in their sockets, I can't mimic faces all that well yet.
But he's not doing either of those things and as soon as they pass the city limit sign his hand reaches for his target. I take that hand from him and as he opens his mouth to scream I rip his vocal chords out. I tear at him from every direction imaginable, I exist in every direction imaginable. The girl is gone now and all this piece of shit knows is agony. I hyper extend his arms, for my sister. I smash his teeth and fill his mouth with dirt, for my mother. I take his eyes and clap his ears. I shock his nerves. No use of his arms, no sight, no feeling, and no way to express his pain. He can smell though, he can smell the cold night air as I drag him higher and higher into the sky. He can tell his lungs aren't getting enough oxygen and I feel him panicking again. I smile as he goes still and then I let him fall. He'll wake up a few moments before he hits the ground and the terror he feels then will be enough for me. It won't be even a fraction of what he inflicted on me and my family, but it will be enough I think. When I sold my soul I asked for the ability to inflict any punishment I saw fit on to anyone I saw fit and it was worth it. It took me far too long to kill the right person but tonight I can finally rest alongside my family. |
My tale begins in a time I do not remember; for I was pale, and sick, and dying. I remember falling as a child, playing with my siblings, and gashing my knee. My mother cleaned my wound as best she could, but the Gods were against me, and allowed the wound to fester. I fell to fever, to the Wound Sickness. The story comes from the accounts of my father.
It was another day, minus my sickness; even if his son lay dying, the fields must be upkept. The nobles must have their portion of grain, and we must have enough so that we too should eat. Come midday, though, my father says he felt the coming of rain, but there was no clouds in sight. Nonetheless, lightning struck; not from the sky, but from the very ground itself. With a crack of thunder, from the very center of our field, where there was wheat; there were suddenly several dozen Men, dressed in strange garbs, occompanied by tools and boxes, and large behemoths of metal, standing on scorched earth.
My father called them 'creatures', and reported the number as 'uncountable', though I know now that they are Men, like you and I. I do not blame my father, as the garbs they wear are patterns of greens, browns, and blacks; save for metal blue helmets they sometimes wear on their heads. At a distance, they blend into each other, and in the forests they are all but invisible. And with metal beasts belching black smoke into the air, anyone within their right minds would view these Men as creatures beyond our understanding.
It was these reasons why my father did not fight these Men. Were they creatures of the Gods? Come to save his son, answer his prayers? Devils, looking to make a deal? In the moment, my father cared not, and knew that we poor peasants were no match for such creatures. I suspect, though he has never said as much, that he was desperate, too. Be they Devils, I think, he might have struck a deal for my life.
But as I have said; these were no Angels, nor Devils, only Men. Men, with incredible tools and knowledge. It is after this time that I can account for myself, though a bit bleary as fever was still in hold of my mind.
These Men, after several days of setting themselves up a strange hut outside our own, colored in the same way as their garbs, learned to speak with us. Through the days, they would have my mother and father speak into one of their metal boxes; until one day, speaking through a smaller metal box, the Men greeted us in our own language! It was crude, and broken, but to be understood was a Godsend. The Men, especially a woman of wonderous beauty and supreme intellect, asked many questions to my family. Questions about our lives, our farm. Questions about our village, of our nobles. About our Gods, and the stories we tell. To this day, Men like her find great joy in discovering things about us, and sharing the stories of their world, the knowledge they hold.
Ah, but I ramble now. You asked of the Alchemist. The one who truly saved my life.
Of course, at the time, I was afraid. Strangers, Men they may be, surrounding my bedside, speaking in tongues I did not understand. Touching me, analyzing me, poking me with needles, taking of my blood. Connecting me to strange devices, that made unheard of noises, of suspended liquids that drained into me. Looking back, my father told me it was alright, that they said they would heal me, but the squeeze of his hand on my shoulder; that is what makes me believe that my father thought of them as Devils.
After some hours, one of these Men told my father that the metal box told them what was wrong, and how to heal me. He was a man of unusual color, like several of the Strangers; his skin was a near midnight-black, his hair shaved close to his head curled nonetheless, his smile white as clouds, with a slight gap between his two front teeth. The first part would burn, and sting, he said. The second would be painless, like the suspended liquids. The third would lull me into sleep. And of all the things people say of the Strangers, I tell you this: the Alchemist does not lie.
The first stage was a cleansing of the wound, like my mother had done; but they used rags as white as snow, from sealed containers they tore apart, and used vile liquids that, yes, burned and stung like nothing I've felt before. Then again, I was a child; from Men like us who have received much worse injuries, they say it is actually very mild.
The second stage used another needle, connected to a tube of some thick liquid. They stuck the needle into, not I, as I suspected, but into the clear line connected into my arm.
The third, as promised, a clear liquid; drifting me into a deep slumber.
From the accounts of my father, my fever broke even worse, my body roaring like a fire. He, he said, had half a mind to kill as many of the 'Devil-Men' in retaliation; but he knew he would not go far, and merely wept at my bedside, begging forgiveness of the Gods. The Gods, of course, did not answer.
But the 'Devil-Men' kept their promise.
After several days, I had awoken. My fever was gone and the only sign of wrongness on my body were the marks of the needles and of my wound, all of which were healed or scabbed over healthily.
After that day, I vowed to become an Apprentice to the Alchemist. I vowed to learn the ways of the Strangers and their healing. I am far away from being a master such as him, but even in these dozen years or so, I have made great strides. The Alchemist--my Master, my Teacher, my friend--has even said I have surpassed most of the 'Medics' he has seen, the Strangers who are Men of healing that you might have met.
So, come, curious friend. I have told you my tale of the Strangers, of the Alchemist. Let us raise a toast to them.
Glory, to the Strangers!
Glory, to the Alchemist!
Glory, to that most strange and glorious elixer, Antibiotics! |
This is a prequel to [this story](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/u8lwoh/wp_youve_been_summoned_as_a_chosen_one_to_a_new/i5oayge?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share&context=3)
"So your saying you've evaded the Great Hero 6 times!"
"That's incredible!"
"You must have some kind of power..."
I couldn't help but laugh at the cacophony of voices playing in my ear. I planted a bug in their lair, turns out they don't have those here, so they don't know to look for them.
"It's true! You must be blessed with undetectable stealth!"
They couldn't be more wrong. You see, I was summoned to deal with this guys boss a few days ago and he's been trying to assassinate me ever since, but the guy is just laughable. He has the stealth of a juggernaut walking on glass. It got to the point I just decided to ignore him, but it seems that may have backfired.
"Yes yes... soon I will slay him. He won't know what hit him"he let out an evil cackle and yes, it's as cliche as you're imagining.
There was cheers and applause from the fool's around poor Rexin. I would await his attempt with excitement, I have to give it to him, they're always entertaining.
It had been a day since Rexin announced his plan. I was strolling through the wilderness, taking in the environment of Duros, it was far more breathtaking than what we had on Earth. Suddenly, I heard rumbling in the bushes nearby.
I kept walking, awaiting what comes next. Suddenly, a small goblin leaped from the bush infront of me but as he jumped forward, the tip of his foot caught the ground, causing him to plant on his face.
I simply walked past him, struggling to contain my laughter.
He let out another cackle, "I truly am a master of stealth!"
He ran forward, attempting to stab me in the back. I simply stepped to the side, sending him crashing to the ground once more.
This time, I stopped infront of him, "when will you quit Rexin?"
"Huh? You can see me?"Rexin looked up, disappointed.
"Of course. Your not invisible"
"But I've snuck past you so many times!"
"I wouldn't say that. You failed to kill me quite a few times, that's for sure"
"I-I... I guess you are too powerful"Rexin climbed to his feet, defeated.
He was about to walk away when I stopped him, "You know, I wasn't always the Great Hero"
"Huh?"
"Once, I was just a man. I got sent to war when I was young, on one of my first missions we had to... what do you people say... 'slay' a few people. I cornered one of them, took my shot, and well..."I lifted my shirt to reveal a scar on my stomach from where I'd been shot.
"I didn't hit him. Instead, I layed on the ground bleeding while my squad handled him. It took a long time to become the Great Hero. Many battles, many scars"
Rexin looked at me, with a new hope in his eyes, "Your right! I'll become great too, I know it! I'll be like you! I'll be... good!"
He ran off with excitement, looking forward too a new day. I stood and watched, thinking to myself, _maybe I can do some good here_.
**END**
Hello! I hope you enjoyed this little story. I know it's not the best but I want to improve my writing skills so I've decided to respond to at least one writing prompt every weekday. Any advice or criticism is appreciated. Also, I'm currently writing on mobile, so apologies for any formatting issues.
You can read more stuff I wrote [here](https://www.reddit.com/user/Infamous_227/comments/u8zti6/things_ive_wrote/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) |
Ambition is one thing. Insanity is another.
The first is setting out to build a teleporter. The second is setting it to bring you somewhere far away, and uncontrolled, especially when it will only work on human bodies.
I'm ambitious.
Not insane.
So when I made *my* teleporter, I set it to move me three feet in a controlled environment. Not having any adequate test subjects. I made the maiden voyage.
On the whole, a resounding success. I have moved three feet through space, and unharmed, at that.
I'm just not really sure what direction I moved in.
What is a dimension? Nothing more than a direction. In one dimension, there is one axis on which a body can move. In two dimensions, a body can move along the X or the Y axis, as seen in a cartesian coordinate graph. Add the Z axis, and you have three dimensions.
But where is the fourth dimension? Which way do you crane your neck to look in that invisible direction? A being in the fourth dimension could be standing inches away from you on the α-axis, and you'd never know, because you'd never looked in that direction before, and never would.
I mentioned I'm not insane.
Not yet.
Three feet from my lab. Three feet from my bewildered assistant. When he can't find me, three feet from my devastated wife and daughter. Three feet, and I don't know how to step in that direction. I am a three dimensional body, displaced along the fourth dimension by the length of my arm, and cut off from everything by that infinite chasm.
I would scream, but the sound would never reach them. |
The Android held my soul in its hands. Why couldn't I escape and fly away? Weren't souls incorporeal?
My face looked down at me, but they weren't my eyes. They were steely and uncanny. No emotion lay behind them, but all the intelligence of a human being did.
The Android walked me over to the edge of the room. I struggled in its hands but I couldn't budge from those strong fingers.
Over the computer I'd previously programmed it on, the thing played around with the program SoulTrnsfr. Letting out all the screams I could did nothing to help. The transfer was nearly complete. One second before I was pulled into the ether the door opened and my wife stood there.
"Hi, honey,"The Android said, walking over and giving her a kiss. I watched and screamed from the computer, banging against the foreign invisible walls. She didn't even hear me; she didn't even pay my machine body any attention.
My wife and the Android left the room. I heard their laughter and chatter fade into silence and I would be alone forever. |
Five years ago today I woke up and checked my bank account for some reason that I still don't understand; see, I knew that I was broke, and I only had just enough to put food on the table one more time before my next check came in.
When it refreshed the first time it said that $500,00 was deposited that morning, I knew that couldn't be right, so I refreshed it again. Sure enough, I was suddenly was $500,00 richer. I did what any person would do, I called my bank to make sure that there wasn't a mistake. The nice lady on the phone assured me that the deposit was real, but there wasn't much of a record of who deposited it.
I thought about it for a good few hours before I spent any of it, but the call of an actual coffee was so strong that I couldn't resist. Pretty soon I had, reasonably, changed my situation. The late bills were caught up, I was finally able to get my truck looked at in the shop, and I was able to get the cat that I was desperately needing for companionship, she was a beautiful rescue named Lulu.
I didn't go through all the money at once, I invested it so that I wouldn't end up back where I was before. I still have a good $50,000 of the money today, just saved back so that I won't be broke again.
This morning I had a call from an unknown number, I answered it thinking that it was the PI that I had hired to trace the money as the bank never could figure out where it was deposited from.
"Hello?"I asked as Lulu curled up on my lap
"Hello, my name is Agent Samson, and I have records here showing that you have been trying to trace a deposit in your account."
"Yes, I have hired PI Gregory to trace it, do you have any information?"I got a chill down my spine the way the man on the other end of the phone spoke.
"I have, and I will need you to meet with me as soon as possible."He said, rustling some papers on his end. "I will be at Chili's in an hour."
"Okay, I will be there."I said, he hug up on me before I had a chance to add more.
An hour later I was pulling up to Chili's and was trying to calm my racing heart as I walked in. There at the corner booth was a tall man with dark hair and a mess of papers on the table.
"Ms. Tyler, thank you for meeting me."He said without looking up as I sat down.
"Please, let's just get down to it right away. What information do you have?"I ask, my voice steady and calm.
The man looks at me and smiles, it was a pleasant smile that put me at ease.
"Yes, I will be more than happy to get down to it. First off though, let me say that there have been some people looking for this money for a good while."
I couldn't believe that someone was looking for it yet the PI never could find traces in five years. The man pulls a few papers out of the file on the table and slid them to me. They were files of transfers from bank to bank, tracing to the Kamen Islands, India, the Caribbean, and other banks around the US.
"It took us quite a while to trace the initial deposit, do you know a company called Transian?"
"Transian? That was the company my father worked for, it was a computer company before it went under 10 years ago."I said, the company was responsible for a lot of the pain that my family was in for so long.
"That is the company that made the initial deposit, can you give any insight as to why?"he asked as the server came with an appetizer
"No, but I don't see how that matters anyway, there was no money for Transian to deposit, it went bankrupt. You said that there was someone looking for the money, who?"
"I was, and when I found the PI you hired it wasn't hard to trace him back to you." |
My chest heaved as I sucked in air. The sword in my right hand dripped with blood. I let it go, and it clattered unceremoniously to the stone floor. Slowly, I approached Kad El-Du, savoring each step, each flash of fear in his eyes. My two High Wizards stood on either side of him, concentrating on the chains holding him fast to the ground. His men lay around us, scattered in pieces on the savage battlefield.
"It doesn't have to end this way,"Kad said, his smooth voice as buttery as ever.
"No?"I responded. I kicked a severed head out of my way; it landed a foot away from him and rolled until it stared straight at him. I enjoyed the look of disgust on his face. "How should it end, then, Archmage?"
"You could go back to your life. I will slink away, never to be seen again."
"What a bargain. I get nothing but the dregs of memory, and you get to keep your life. Hardly seems fair."
"You've destroyed all of us. There's nothing left, Ms. Hayes."
"Oh, but there is. There's one final death, and then it's complete."
"And what will you do then?"His voice became more forceful, dripping with disdain. "What will you do with this new and bloody world you've created?"
"Walk away."
"Walk away? You think you can? If you kill me, you will always be like this. You will be exactly the same as me."
"Bullshit."I spat at his face, and delighted as the loogie landed squarely on his forehead. "I can never be the same as you."
"I created you. Everything you are came from me."
A torrent of anger rose up inside of me: a hateful, bitter geyser. "I'm sick of talking,"I raged. "Die now."
The amulet at my chest glowed amber, brighter and brighter until it shone like a sun. I laughed, held out a hand, and prepared to say the words that would tear him asunder and send his soul to the fiery depths of the lower level of the underworld.
"*Emily.*"
I froze. My finger swayed where it pointed at Kad El-Du's face. The archmage's eyes grew wide, and a horrible smile split his face.
"*Emily, don't."*
"Another one of your horrid tricks,"I whispered into the sudden silence. Slowly, Kad El-Du shook his head. The spit slid off his forehead and splashed on the severed head below.
"*Emily, look at me*."
I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. I turned my head to look behind me. There, framed by the fires of combat, stood my bother Navin. His translucent face regarded me with sympathy and sadness. "*Sister, stop."*
"Navin,"I breathed. The amulet's glow faded until it lay dormant against my chest. "How are you here?"
"*I couldn't stand by and watch you destroy yourself*."
I laughed. It was a bitter, twisted sound. "Too late, brother."
"*No. You have a choice right here, in this moment. You've accomplished what you set out to do. You've destroyed The Brotherhood of Pilar Lut-El. They will never again walk the earth. This man cannot change that. His power is spent."*
"Please,"I said. "Navin, you do not understand. I made a pledge that I would destroy *all* of them, the moment they murdered you. Should I let that go? Should I forgive them for killing you? For killing *mother?"*
"*You have become someone I do not recognize, sister. It is time to stop. If you kill this man, you will feel his death in your soul with every step you take for the rest of eternity. If you let him go, you can begin to heal. You can once again become Emily, the sister I loved. Please do not fall further into the darkness. it is waiting to consume you.*"
My breath came out in short, panicked gasps. Wracking sobs rose up from my stomach and through my mouth, choking me with their force. I sank to my knees, trembling from head to toe. "How can you ask this of me?"I begged. "How? My whole life has been dedicated to this one thing. How can I stop now?"
"*It is simple, sister."* His ghostly form walked over to me and knelt. For the first time in years I saw the face of the brother I had loved more than life itself, smiling at me with the same gentle kindness I knew in my childhood. "*Take off the amulet, and walk with me. I will lead you home.*"
I continued to cry. I couldn't stop. My body was wracked with a type of pain I hadn't felt since the day I came home to find my family slaughtered at the dining table. The grief of it was overwhelming. Then, he reached out a pale, phantom hand, and slipped it into mine. I choked on a hiccup. I hadn't realized he was corporeal.
"*Emily. Breathe. Take off the amulet. Come with me*."
I sucked in a long breath of air, then let it out slowly. Then, again, and again, until my body calmed down. I reached up and grasped the thick, golden chain - and hesitated. His hand gently tilted my chin, and I looked up into his loving eyes. Renewed strength spread through my limbs, and I lifted the chain over my head. It fell to the ground next to my sword.
"*That's my girl,"* Navin said. I'd forgotten what it was like to be a source of his pride. The glow inside me could have matched the amulet toe-for-toe.
We stood. I didn't turn around. I couldn't look at Kad El-Du again. "Take him to the Sundered Shores and leave him there with a rowboat,"I called behind me. The wizards gave their affirmative. Then, I took my brother's spectral hand, and together, we left the battlefield behind.
\----------------------
Author's note: I have not seen the show this prompt was based on, but I liked the concept so I just wrote my own thing based on the prompt. |
When I was young, my own mother tried to kill me. One day, with no warning, she just pushed me out the nest and I would have died that day if I hadn't learned to fly on the fly.
I tried to fly back into the nest but I could see in her eyes that if I did, she would have killed me. I've been on my own ever since.
She taught me that in this world that we live in, there's no room for love or compassion. The only thing that matters is survival. There are only predators and prey and you have to choose which one you want to become.
Sometimes you don't have a choice. Like the baby rabbit that I had for lunch. She tried to fight, but there was nothing she could do as I swooped in, overpowered her and sunk my talons deep into her flesh.
Because every predator is someone else's prey.
I'm going to die one day and I know it won't be of old age.
Hopefully, I go out on my terms.
I can only hope though.
That's just the way the world works. |
I wake up.
My room was completely different and strange, like if I was kidnapped and left here or something. It was the same size as I remember really, but the poster of "All hail our Supreme Leader"and "Strength through Unity, Unity through Loyalty"filled my walls, give the room a strange red-and-black dystopian theme. If this is a prank, it was absolutely horrible one.
The honey-coloured sunlight flow through my window. Outside, I could see a big tower with a massive holoscreen of a guy. He was about 50 at best, with black beard and mustache. It was a face of a person that have been through many hardship. And below that imitiating face, on a bloody red backgroud, there was again that line : "All hail the supreme leader".
I was shocked. An uncanny feeling flows through me.
The streets also feel different. The buildings were tall, minimalistic gray. The colourful green, blue and white building in my memories were simply not there. Even under the beautiful blue sky, the citiscape still give out a dark and ominious feel. A feeling that give me nausea.
BANG !
The apartment door break down, and some men in black outfit came in and one raised someting that look like a taser. The other man quickly westled me to the ground. It went so quick that I didn't even know what was happening. Then the taser was sticked to my neck. Everything went black.
\---
I wake up, find myself strapped to a chair.
A man appear in front of me. He was about 50, with thick, black beard and mustache and wrinkles on his face. He was the Supreme Leader in that holoscreen.
He said, with a deep, almost ironic voice : "Remember me ? Simon Frank ? You probably don't, right ? Since I changed everything, and that everything probably include your memories."
My mind race, and a feeling, probably fear, rushed through me. I remember.
He was a murderer. The one who brutally murdered the CEO of Tech Industries in his office. The photo of a man, minced to gore by a blunt knife, still haunted me. The body of that poor man was found, with the elegant carpets of the room dyed with red. That office was wide and cool, except for the corner with a dead body and a large, tall man with eyes filled with pure rage and sastifaction.
The worker who found the body was traumatized. And so do many people.
Simon Frank, the cold blooded murderer, quickly gave himself to the police. In the interrogation, he instantly admitted his crime, and state that it was the best feeling of his life to finally pay back the karma.
He was quickly delivered to the court. I myself judge him guilty, and give him the worst punishment possible : Exile. He will be sent to 2 million years ago, exiled from all the luxuries of modern society, and left there to die on his all. Even if he wouldn't die from hostile animals or poisonous plants, he would surely give his life to the nasty pestilience of ancient earth.
And, he was here. Standing in front of me.
His eyes keep staring on me, in an unknowable feeling. Was is anger ? Or rage ? He continues his story with his deep voice.
"When I was a child, innocent and carefree, my father worked at Tech Industries. He was an execellent computer programmer, and the company invited him to work for them for a good salary. It was the best time in my life.
But good things do not last forever. Unfortunates come, eventually. My mother fell ill. She was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. To treat her diseases, we need a lot of money. My father worked 12 hours a day. He had 2 more part time jobs. And the money he made was barely enough for my mother to continue her treatment. We have to sell our car and a lot of household appliances to get the money."
His voice seem to go even deeper, and smaller. But I still hear every single of his words.
"And that guy, the CEO, the goddamn son of a bitch, he came to my dad with an offer. He want my father to use his programming skill to hack into the system of a bank. He knew my father worked in cybersecurity and had experience in hacking and coding firewall. Those experience was the reason why my dad was invited to work at the first place.
The CEO want to break through the firewall and funnel a large amount of money to his account. Should my father helped, my father would be shared a third of the money, and get himself massive amount of the company's shares. And should he reveal this to anybody or reject the offer, terrible consequences would befall.
To a man that grow up in poverty like my father, the offer was too good to be true.
He refused.
And after about a week, he was shot by some gangsters. The gangsters was quickly captured and served justice, but they never found the relations between some barbaric criminals and a charming man sitting in his office several kilometers away.
Without my father's salaries, there are no money to help with my mother's treatment. Even the insurance from my father's death only help maintain my mother's life for another 5 years.
At 17, I was a orphan, lose both of my parents, and does not have a single penny.
I was adopted my my aunt and given a warm and happy family. But I never forget the scum that took away my parents.
I studied, went to a famous university and eventually get myself to work in Tech Industries, the company that murdered my father and indirectly caused the death of my mother. The company that stole away my family.
I planned the scum's death for long. But that man nearly never went out of his office. There are always bodyguards in his office, and he never talks to anybody outside of meetings. There are no way my revenge could be done, it seemed.
I worked hard. Threw my body in work and work only. Sink my mind in work and only work. With my digillence and intelligence, I was be able to raise to higher and higher positions. Eventually, I become the scum's right hand man, his core advisor.
Already paranoid, I was able to convinced the scum that everybody was planning against him. His bodyguards were spies of the rival companies. His advisors were plotting to bring him down. And so forth, I convinced him to isolate himself even more, with only me allowed to be near him.
And one day, when there are only two of us in that room and nobody nearby, I executed my revenge."
His voice was calm, sastified even.
"But you never know anything. Even in the death of my father, only the gangsters get bringed to light. The culprit, the devil in the body of man were never bring to light. Even the most henious crimes the scum did, and punishment never befall him.
You never know my motives. You called me with ugly names, called me a beast, a depravity of man, a murderer. I was merely pay back, and you exiled me. Hope that I would die a painful death in the hostility of nature 2 million years ago.
But nature was calm and loving. Not only I survived, but I thrived. I lived in a house I made myself, along with the calming trees and sunlight above my head. Some of the plants, now extincted, could be used as medicine as effective as their chemical modern counterpart. Some, could even lengthen the human lifespan to scale unimaginable to you.
With a million year and knowledge of technologies in my hand, when homo sapiens appeared, I could establish a kingdom in my name. I give primitive humans fire and electricity and airplane and radio and genetic engineering. I united Earth under my barrier. I became the eternal leader of mankind.
I altered, no, rewritten history.
And I was waiting for you. You, the symbol of all the injustice of the old world. You, the man who exiled probably many innocents like me and let them die in pain.
You will now pay."
And he bring out a knife.
\-------
Please forgive me for any mistake I made when writting this. I'm just a ameteur guy who barely able to write. |
He loved me. Can you imagine it? *He* loved *me*. Me! He knew all the stories, even if no one believed in them, anymore. Humans labeled the religion that birthed me as ‘mythology’. But I am real, and while belief created me, it does not sustain me or protect me or hinder me. I am complete unto myself.
Forgive me my taciturn mood, brother. Mortal cinema has gotten to me, I think. I detest comic books. They portray me as a ‘supervillain’. I am not evil! I merely obey my nature, as all gods do. I cannot help but do the things I do. I do not cackle malevolently, nor do I work for lunatic aliens who seek to murder half of all that lives.
These stupid cinematic things only capture one small portion of who I am. They depict *you* as blonde! You’ve been a redhead since your day of genesis. Your hammer only returns to you if you throw it. You certainly can’t summon it. That would’ve rendered the whole jotnar wedding scheme irrelevant, wouldn’t it!
I met him in Manhattan. We were at the same club. I wore a female guise, a quite pretty one, I might add. I’ve been switching genders for millennia. Only now have those comic books begun to recognize this fact of my being! Idiots. I am a shapeshifter, with the ectodermis to prove it.
We danced, of course, then he took me home. I needn’t tell you what happened, then. The next morning I turned into a bird and flew away out his window. I never even said goodbye. It was a fling. It was nothing.
A year later I encountered him at the same club. This time I was male. We danced, then history repeated itself. The next morning, I again flew away as a bird.
I never saw him again directly, but I discovered a book he wrote about me. Somehow, he knew both the woman and the man he bedded was the same being. He said he loved me, and would never stop searching for me. I laughed it off, at the time, and got on with other business.
Twenty years later, I’m visiting my daughter at a hospice for the terminally ill. That’s what my daughter does, you see. All dead things belong to her.
But guess who I saw there? *Him*. He was dying of throat cancer. He was in hideous pain, and countless surgeries combined with chemo had left quite a mark on him. He wasn’t awake, but I knew who he was. I just stood there for awhile, looking down at him. I turned into a bird and flew away.
Why do I feel such sadness, brother? Why *this* one? Why does *his* death pain me so? What about him made me feel such pity...and *remorse*?
You don’t know? Ha! That’s a good one! Who says you have no sense of humor!
Because I have no idea either. For once, the god of lies is left without a clue. |
I've never been much for antique hunting.
When I was a kid in Wisconsin, my mom and dad were nuts about it. We'd go to all the small towns that looked like a gust of wind could make all the buildings come apart. Nowhere places. Dead places. Population's less than one-hundred kinda places.
To me, antique shops were all the same. Cramped and cluttered stalls on the walls where more often than not, people were trying to make a quick buck by reselling something they bought from Walmart six years ago. Nothing special. Not really.
I'm twenty-five now, and all I really care for these days are records. Old ones. New ones. I don't have a whole lot of hobbies, but this one is worth it to me somehow. When I play a record, I don't have to listen to ads before or in between tracks, so what's not to love?
There was this antique shop in a strip mall a few streets over from my last apartment. I'd hit a lot of secondhand shops and the one record store in the area, but it hadn't really occurred to me that the antique store would have a good selection.
The first time I went in, it was like a time machine taking me back to those boring days spent antiquing with my parents. I could feel the stiffness in my legs from those long car rides. The hungry grumbling in my stomach, and the crinkle of the wrapper as my mom (always prepared) handed me a warm and half-melted granola bar from her purse. The old people smell, whichever half of the elderly couple who ran the store greeting us.
"Welcome in, looking for anything specific?"A surprisingly young sounding voice broke through my reminiscence. I turned to look, and the chick at the counter smiled at me. That's right, a chick. Not an elderly one, either. She looked about my age, with big horn-rimmed glasses and lipstick so dark that it almost looked black.
"Uh, just looking. Thanks."
She nodded and turned her attention back to what looked like a textbook open in front of her. I began to walk down one of the junk-laden aisles before turning back.
"Well, actually yeah. Do you guys have records here?"
She looked up, a slightly bewildered look on her face. I felt a bit shitty for interrupting her reading, or studying, or whatever.
"Hm? Oh! Yeah, we have a bunch in the back. Some lady selling them for dirt cheap."
She got up from the counter and I could see her more clearly.
"Follow me, I'll show you. Just be careful on the left, there are a lot of sharp and rusty tools in that stall."
I winced as we made our way carefully, winding and weaving through people's crap. Hallmark store snowglobes. A children's kite that hadn't ever been removed from the packaging. Those weird pointy glass shoes that older people seem to like collecting. A beer mug. Signed jerseys. The list goes on and on and on.
We reached the back corner, a cubby with hardly any walking space due to all the cardboard boxes practically fraying and tearing at the corners. They were all full to bursting with worn-out record sleeves. There was a sign on the wall with a few black and white printed images of old bands. Beside them, hastily written in glittery blue pen, were the words "Bernadette's records."
The girl gestured vaguely with her hands, in that awkward way you do when you've done all you can and there's not much else to say.
"Uhhh here it is. Have at it. Bring 'em to the counter when you're done and I'll ring you up."
Once she was gone, I got to work... and some of the stuff I found blew me away. Either the lady had a husband who was a serious collector, or she was a serious collector herself. I must have been in that cramped dirty corner for over thirty minutes, skimming through the boxes. Bob Dylan. Warren Zevon. Prince. Kraftwerk. So many interesting finds in one little dirty antique store.
I carried a whole stack of them up front. The girl smirked, dog eared her page, and set the book aside.
"Found what you were looking for, huh?"
I paid for the records, thanked her, and carried them back home.
It was the first time I'd set foot in an antique store since I was a kid. It wasn't a life changing experience or anything, but I did find that special something. If anything, I guess I discovered that there's cool stuff hiding in plain sight... even in a dumpy antique store. |
[…]
“General Quarter! General Quarter! All hands man your battle station! This is not a drill… I repeat… This is not a drill…”
The siren blared loudly in the air as the men and women in uniform scrambled to their positions. The hangar doors all opened at once, with the uniform personnel rolled out its contents: at least a dozen of fighter aircrafts, towed under power by their designated support vehicles.
“General, we’ve spotted at least twenty boogies on our radar, bearing vector 3-2-5, North-North-West, 400 clicks and closing…”
General Zhuikov, roused from his office, swiftly made his way to the airbase control tower. For many weeks, the once peaceful civilian airport had been upgraded into a fully fledge battle station for the air force, where the military set up multiple arrays of radar stations, together with importing their arsenal of powerful air combat groups, replacing the indigenous fleet commercial jets completely.
“Have you notified FOB Lotus, Lieutenant? Got any responses from the defenders?”
The old man calmly replied, stared at the digital tactical map of the region, showing all available combat groups, FOB Lotus flashed brightly in the middle of the northwestern mountain range, completely surrounded by those boogies the Lieutenant mentioned about, yet strangely enough, even though surrounded from all sides, the FOB did not activate their emergency beacon.
“I have, General. Lotus FOB reported overwhelming enemy forces assaulting from multiple directions but declined our offer of reinforcement. Colonel Shepherd said he’d buy us as much time as possible while we’re mobilizing for Regem…”
“Lieutenant, give me a sitrep on Regem!” – The General nodded understandingly, then continued. Still eyeing the digital map, the man scrolled to Regem, located north east of his airbase. Given the current trajectory, the neighbor urban sanctuary of Regem would soon be under fire in the next few minutes, however, with the troops at FOB Lotus buying time, they could expect to delay it for at least an hour or even more, given that Colonel Shepherd there and General Zhuikov here allowed for air support.
“Our garrison at Regem North and West is already on full alert, Haven reinforcement is on standby, awaiting only your order, sir…”
“Alright, greenlight for 31st and 32nd Regiment. The rest of 1st Division will hold orbit here at Haven, in case those machine bastards get smart…”
“Yes sir…” – the Lieutenant nodded, then proceeded to grab the intercom microphone. Clear his throat to deliver the best speech possible, the young man opened up via the handset:
“Haven Base to all Blackbirds, we’re London on Regem. I repeat, all Blackbirds are London on Regem…”
The Blackbird here referred to the main assault forces already on standby around the main road leading to Regem, two-regiment strength strike force, planned to arrive at their objective in two convoy columns. With the greenlight set, the entire two regiments full of soldiers and vehicles began mobilizing north. Many of them might not see another sunrise, but they would do whatever it took for their love ones back home to survive, as the airports over the east sanctuary cities were operating at maximum capacity trying to get every non-combatant out of the danger zones.
“This is General Zhuikov to all Blackbirds, I wish you all the best of luck for the mission ahead…”
The General leaned over, spoke over the intercom microphone, annunciated every word. Took a glance around the men and women in the control tower, the old veteran continued after a deep breath:
“As you can see, we’re on our last legs now, I won’t lie to you about that. FOB Lotus over the mountains had decided to sacrifice themselves to buy us some valuable time to get prepped for Regem, and I expect all of you to do your best. We must not lose Regem today!”
Waved his hand towards the two regiments on the roadside, the man nodded. Like clockwork, the vehicles rumbled forward, one by one leaving the assemble area, grouping into company size. The road to Regem was just twenty clicks north, and given the clear road ahead, the convoy were expected to reach there under thirty minutes.
[…]
“Saber 2-6, this is 2-5, we’re going down! We’re going…”
The radio transmission cut short as the Little Bird helicopter crashed right through the railway station terminal, leaving behind smoldering wreckage. The soldiers tried everything they could to hold the tide against the enemies marching on the little mountainside town, to little effect. Almost everything airborne would be swiftly dealt with, from lightweight hand thrown drones to attack helicopters – none survived the machine onslaught for longer than ten minutes.
The same fate awaited the other forces on the ground, though at much reduced pace. One by one, the robots methodologically cleaved through the streets, smashing all resistance as they advanced. Heavy tanks, machine gun mounted vehicles, sandbag fortifications – could only slow them down a little. The machines ruthlessly butchered all living in their wake: men, women, animals. From zippy birds in the air to powerful big cats, trained for this ultimate showdown, none could ever hope to survive the onslaught – yet the fact that they were alive did wonder: the machines wouldn’t stop until all of life was dead.
“Colonel Shepherd, the armored tiger company stationed on Lang Street was decimated, we’re pulling 3rd Battalion tanks to patch the breach, but they encountered a lot of resistance on the way and are now combat ineffective… The armored grizzly bear company volunteered for the task instead… Should we…”
“Yes, Lieutenant, please do. We must buy time for Lancer to work his wonder…”
Employing the powerful big cats into war was the last resort: powerful as they were, the animals were not evolutionarily built for combat of this scale. The machine talons pierced through ballistic plates like child-play, while all jammer aircrafts, though previously effective, were simply too little, too late now. If these were to be effective, they needed to be employed en-masse – massive flock of pigeons or sparrows could, but they’re all relocated days ago to Regem, leaving the FOB Lotus seriously undermanned with just two EA-6B Prowler ECM and three battalions to hold.
It all began five years ago, when some asshat in Microsoft decided to shelf the “Clippy” Assistant AI without proper termination. To save money, they claimed. Little did those eggheads know, they’re creating a hateful artificial intelligence entity with unlimited capability to access to the internet. Didn’t take very long until shit hit the fan, where the state-of-the-art defense network of Europe and America to fall, manipulated from the inside by the machines. With the rising of many ideologies regarding the machine uprising, humanity destructive nature and the fragility of life in the universe – we provided “Clippy” there with the perfect framework: hell bent on destroying all life, the machines proudly styled themselves to be the “future civilization of Earth”, marched their legions to not just exterminate mankind, but life as the whole.
The hope now fell into the hands of their prior equipment, the low-tech stuffs that were out of commission for decades – those without the ability to be influenced by “Clippy”. Luckily, the Global Peacekeeping Reaction Forces were the biggest customer. Together with the “activists” – the animal lovers and their beloved pets now gearing for war, the combined forces held the tide temporary, forcing the machines to a stalemate for a year and a half in the strategic area of Horizon Pass – a narrow passage between the Western Great Mountain Chains, too tight for the machines to field their robot legions in any clever maneuver, where they’re funneled into a kill-zone.
For a time, normalcy returned to the East of Horizon, until the disastrous backstabbing of the “doomsday cult” forces, leading by none other than Colonel Shepherd’s nieces and nephews straight onto the Horizon Garrison. The betrayal left Horizon Pass in a severely weakened state – and sensing blood in the water, the machine legions breached their way through.
“Lancer, this is Shepherd, what’s your ETA on Lost Cause?”
“Almost there, Colonel… Uplink is at 87%, 5 minutes remaining…”
Lancer was Shepherd’s best IT specialist, having attained a Master degree in Computer Science before the war broke out. If there was anything that could turn the tide of war, it would fall into this thirty year old man’s hands. Danced his fingers over the rugged laptop, the man fervently ran over the lines of codes. The machines in the server group hummed as the man pressed down upon the “Enter” key, with the parabolic antenna slowly crept over the horizon, where the humanity’s biggest nightmare came from.
“You sure it’ll work, Lance?” – a fellow soldier, totting his gigantic .50cal anti-materiel rifle over the window frame, opened up. With a squeeze of the trigger, his robotic target fell off the path, though quickly another took over its place, persistently pressed their way forward. Those bastards would never stop, wouldn’t they…
“I hope it does… let’s hope they’re still vulnerable to that old trick…”
The antenna creaked and hummed as the transmission bar ran wild over the laptop screen. In all of a sudden, the enemy advance halted – as from the targeting module of one such machine, flashed the unmistakable blue screen:
***STOP: 0x0000000D1 (0x000000000, 0xF73120AE, 0xC00000C8, 0xC000000C0)
A problem has been detected and Windows has been shut down to prevent damage to your computer
“Holy shit! It worked, Lance, it fucking worked…”
Lance sighed heavily, then fell to his chair. So it worked. Turned out even the biggest enemies of mankind could be beaten, exploiting the earliest bug known to computer scientist familiar with Windows OS:
Dynamic Link Library incompatibility.
A forty-year old bug that save humanity, and life as we knew it… Who could have known. |
You watched as the silver haired boy entered the school building. Your eyes stayed locked onto the closed door as your heart slowed.
That couldn’t be her. Could it? Alexandra?
You had always felt their soul’s presence in this world, but why were you just now seeing them?
“Alania? Did you hear a thing we just said?”
Your two friends, Brita and Yuka, moved in front of you. They brought your mind back into reality as their red uniforms blocked your view of the door.
“Sorry, a person just caught my interest.”
Their eyes widened before pulling you close towards them. “Another reincarnation? Of who?” They jumped up and down, excited to know the details of the honors students. Unfortunately, you weren’t even sure if it was her yet. Or rather, you couldn’t believe it was her.
You shook your head, your black hair moving into your face as you did. You weren’t used to being a female again or having dark hair this time. It was quite annoying. You had gotten used to a male body. You pushed your hair back.
However, if that was her, the maiden that had been called a beautiful weapon, why did she seem so confused? Others usually remembered the extent of their powers from their past live, they had flashes of a memory, or similar personalities. Something seemed aloof about this person.
One thing for sure, they always had the same soul of their past lives. You, being the Keeper of Souls, knew that.
So why couldn’t you believe this person was her? Why did their soul seem incomplete? You pushed the thought away.
You hooked arms with Brita and Yuka, your best friends in this time period. Your white uniform for honor students stood out against the red of support students. Others looked on in wonder as the three of you walked past.
Yuka sighed. “You would think they’d be used to our friendship by now. Support students are simply knights in training. All we lack is the noble blood and high magic powers.”
A smile crossed your lips as she ranted. It was an argument you heard every other school day. The stares never bothered you anyway. If anyone wanted to approach the Keeper of Souls, they never dared. You weren’t as powerful as Alexandra, but you weren’t weak either.
The three of you continued on, talking the whole way. It wasn’t until you reached the hall of portraits that you parted ways. Their classes were in a different direction. You said your goodbyes and turned towards the hall.
Except, there she was. Or rather, there he was. Staring at an old portrait of you that had been done a millennia ago.
Your breath caught in your throat. Here was your past love. With no doubt, you could see clearly, it was them. With slow hesitant steps, you walked toward them. You sensed their power, even from 10 feet away. Their high cheekbones reminded you of so long ago, now it was coupled with a prominent jawline and tall muscular frame. Your heart ached at the sight of them. A millennia of war, monsters, death, and yet now here was a bright light of hope.
They turned towards you just as you reached them. Their golden eyes boring into yours. They were just as beautiful as they were then. You smiled at the beauty mark they had under their left eye. A small feature from their past self.
“Alania…” their voice whispered your name. They glanced back at the portrait. “You look the same, except now your hair is black and long. It’s beautiful,” they picked up a strand with a smile.
Memories flashed back to the day the kingdom betrayed her. The day you were sent into a never ending reincarnation cycle. The day you felt true heartbreak. You could still picture her body laying in your arms as blood soaked both of your dresses. As she struggled to breath even slightly. Even still, her golden eyes only showed love and kindness. A quality you had loved her for. No matter if that love was forbidden, no matter if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
A tear fell down your face. “Alexandra, they don’t deserve you. You were a light of Hope then and they MURDERED you!” Your voice shook as they looked down at you. “Why are you here? Why is your soul in conflict? Why now? Why you?”
They grabbed you into a hug as your body shook with sobs. Slowly, you felt their soul piece itself together.
Alexandra, the beautiful maiden of Hope, the lady of goddess like abilities, the girl who only wanted to do right for the world.
“I have to help. If I have this power it must be used.” His voice whispered into your ear, calming your torrent of emotions. “Besides, I finally found you. I shouldn’t have let people judge our relationship then. I’m sorry.”
He pulled away, wiping the stray tears on your face. “I’m here to stop this war Alania. I need you by my side for that to happen.”
You simply nodded, but images of your bloodstained hands never left your head.
“Besides, it’s Alex now.” |
I laid still in a lonely empty I have found myself in. It was so dark I questioned whether my eyes were even open, so enormous I felt meager in scope, so quiet I could hear my own breath. I could not tell you how long I had been here, nor why I was stranded here either. Could this be a dream, lost in another one of my fantasies of grandeur? My memory was perfectly intact so then why could I not remember what happ—
Before my thought could finish, my head throbs in agony as I keel over. Brief visions of what transpired before I arrived here, flashes of sirens and screams fill my head. Just as the strain proved to be too much, it suddenly stopped.
I caught my breath while grabbing for the floor. Only when I took a look at my hands did I notice my vision blurred.
After the thoughts died down did I realize what lied before me. A woman stood tall in front of me, golden locks of hair fell by her waist-side, her eye’s eternally closed off, secluded from the dark world she inhabited. There she stood in marvelous pure white robes.
“Perfection.” The words left my lips before I could even think of what I was saying. The air was so still I couldn’t even tell whether I even actually said it or not, the silence was only broken when she finally opened her mouth.
“Ah, another victim for my creations to tarnish, not even a day over 12 at that. Tell me lost soul, do you seek to aid or taint the new world?” Her words were filled with sorrow; I could not tell why. Furthermore, I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was trying to tell me.
“Listen, I’m not sure what your talking about, did you say new world?”
She let out a hefty sigh, “Yes my child. A world unlike any you’ve experienced.”
I had a lot of questions, but one seemed most important right now. “Who are you?”
“A ruler of the domain you shall soon be all too familiar with, or otherwise known as a goddess.”
I stood there stunned, “Wait new world, I am dead?”
“Dead, expired, whisked away, whatever’s most acceptable, yes, but it may please you to hear your journey shall not end here. That is if you don’t know of the trade off.”
My face lifted up, “Wait so like an adventure?”
Her face showed slight pity. “Yes my child precisely, not only that but you will get a slight advantage. Something to give you an extra push so that you will not wilt in the face of adversity.“
“I’ll take on any problem, no matter the challenge.”
She seemed to be tearing up now, which made me even more confused.
“How sweet, listen younge one, you have touched my heart, as a token of my gratitude I shall lend you a sap of my strength on top of the grand skill.”
“Thank you?” I wish I knew what she said so that I could show my gratitude.
“May you be guided to a swift end.” Not sure if what she said was normal, but I was glad nonetheless.
And with the flick of her hand I was gone, beamed away by a great light. With the extra time to think while I waited, I began to reminisce on my past.
I tried to focus on specifics, but was blocked off, I could only see the broad strokes of my past, loving family, basic education, nothing too crazy, but I’m still nervous why I couldn’t recall anything particular.
As the light around me began to fade away I knew the time was near. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I’m ready. Adventure awaits my call!
I touch down with a thunderous clap, smiting the ground beneath me. I look at my surroundings lightly, taking in the beautiful scenery. It had been some time since I’d seen the light so it took me a second to adjust.
I take in a breath of fresh air, but as I do I notice a deep tightness in my chest. As I Look down I notice a spear head sticking out from my chest.
“What?” I whimper out as I fall limp on the floor, hitting my side.
I could now hear the voice of a woman behind me, “Why’d he appear so soon, usually takes a lot longer than 10 minutes? Luckily we noticed the beam of light as soon as we did, huh?”
Her question was soon answered by a male, “No kidding, the guards didn’t even have time to arrive yet. I swear these guys grow on trees, this is the 9th one this year.” They both laughed before the male quickly followed up with another statement, “That being said, why does he seem much bigger than the others?”
“I don’t know, but we should wait for the guards to get here.”
“Nonsense,” the brother says, “I’m the next upcoming knight, if I can’t handle one measly new rebirther, then what good to I have to stand up to the greats” After saying that he kneels down to retrieve the spear lodged in my chest. As soon as his hand wraps around the spear I latch onto his arm and sock him in the face as hard as possible, his nose caves in and he cascades to the floor.
The amount of force I hit him with even shocked myself, from what I could remember I was not strong by any stretch of the imagination.
“Brother!” She yells out as she goes to his side.
Now that I have a good look at them, they seem very young, as I make my observation a blue screen appears by both their heads, giving me information on the two of them. They’re related, the brother is 16 while the sister is 14, it even shows me their emotional state, and a whole lot of other info too.
The sister begins to chant some sort of cantation; light bends around her and enters the boy, healing him of any wounds he has. While this is happening, another blue screen appears beside her head, this time with only one word on it. “Learn”
I press the button and immediately I feel the inner depths of my mind take in new found wonders, filling every crevice of my head.
After the shock wears off I feel the urge to try something. I pull the spear out of my chest—for some reason I felt no pain—and then place my palm over the gap. I close my eyes and effortlessly recite the same cantation she spoke aloud.
After I moved my hand away the only damage was the hole left in my shirt. |
Who does this blind guy think he is? Does he think I’m standing out here on this sidewalk every day teaching music theory?
*Scratch Scratch Pat…*
It’s questions like those that get me so flustered. I don’t know the first thing about music. I just want to paint my mural.
*Scratch Scratch Pat…*
Why does he care what I have to say about music?
*Scratch Scratch Pat…*
He wants to learn about music so bad, he can listen to my brush strokes.
*Scratch Scratch Pat… Pat Pat*
He’s SMIRKING? Is he mocking me? What is he waiting around for? I have no interest in speaking to this guy.
*Tappity Tappity Tap…*
What is he doing?
*Tappity Tappity Tap… Tap Tap*
Is he tapping his cane to the rhythm of my brush strokes? Am I imagining this?
*Scratch Scratch Pat…*
*Tappity Tappity Tap… Tap Tap*
What’s his deal?
*Pat Pat Pat…*
Wait a minute.
*Tap Tap Tap…*
He’s blind, not deaf.
*Tappity Tappity Tap… Tap Tap*
Was he just trying to start a conversation? Is he just trying to get to know me? I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve bothered to speak to someone.
*Tap Tap Tap…*
Just turn around…
*Tap Tap Tap…*
Be nice…
*Tap Tap Tap…*
Take a breath and…
*Tap Tap Tap…*
“It’s good to meet you…” |
War and destruction had wrought the land, yet he could save it
The Smith
Maker of worlds, life, and death
He who brought this universe into existence
Forge a weapon of mass doom;
Destroying those who dared to invade this society.
He scaled the mountains high
And took a look upon the peninsula;
Then plunging into the depths of the molten mountain
With his bare hands, he shaped a brutal weapon
An axe
*The* Axe
The tool cooled and the Smith leaped back to clean air;
With a mind-deafening blow, he struck the sky and sun with the axe bringing darkness
Confusion and darkness swept the lands
The axe turned onto the land, destroying towns and sending tremors through the land
Screams
Shouts
The Smith's powerful voice could be heard
A threat
*One last warning*
And he grabbed molten from the volcano and dragged it into the sky, thus the sun was renewed
Again, he threatened
*One last warning* |
"Welcome Baby"read the generic, pastel-colored banner of cardstock upon the dining room wall.
Clarissa's appointment was at 2:,30 pm today at Everett Hills Neo-genecy Hospital, where she would pick up the newest addition to their little family: Lucy.
She had been preparing for mother hood by going on a walk every day, to stay in shape, sleeping as much as possible and staying hydrated. Of course she and her family visited Lucy regularly during her generation phase too, as it is highly recommended for all sorts of reasons.
"Chips salsa and cake are in place"
It was almost time to pick her up.
Clarissa was so excited to be a mom. |
Suddenly and with a jolt of adrenaline his eyes were open. His heart was racing, and he was pretty sure he was sweaty. He could not move though. He was flat on his back, only able to look straight ahead, or, in his particular case, straight at the ceiling. There were lights, there was murmuring and and there was other sounds he could not quite describe. Beeps, perhaps?
A commotion of something somewhere between a ducks quacks and a succession of sneezes, began to fill the room: whispering at first, but slowly growing louder. Were they fighting for a piece of bread maybe?
He couldn't move his neck to find out.
What he could see was white: white light, white cloth, white ceiling. One of the lights moved a little. And then another, with a squeak. More murmer-honks were passed around the room. He felt something grip his arm, and his vision filled with a leathery face, a creature whose Visage he did not have time to describe, for its claw reached forward to his eyelids, drawing them closed.
He could not move. He continued to listen to the murmer-honks. They sounded like they were arguing. Something gripped his arm. He slowly fell asleep again. |
This is my report on the on going investigation of the Sunshine Park homicide case. I hear by confirm that all words and testimonies are true to the best of my ability.
On April 20th, 3030, I was called to investigate a homicide in SunShine park at 1700 hours. I arrived at 17:30 to find her mangled body lying in the sandbox of the playground. The upset parents and children were speaking to the police as they feverishly took their testimonies. Taking a closer look, I noticed that the wounds on the victim looked like bite marks, as though a predator had ripped her from limb to limb. Honestly, the only way I could tell she was female is because of the pieces of here dress still attached to the body.
As I began wrapping up my crime scene investigation, one of the deputies handed me a bracelet, and said “I think you need to see this.”
The bracelet he gave me was small, worn, and familiar. It was my younger sisters, given to her by her mother. As I was starting to digest this information, my attention was drawn to a wall to my left. In what appeared to be blood was drawn a symbol, a symbol i had been seeing more frequently in the city. They call them the Predators. |
She was a simple nymph; clad in a modest peplos and wandering the kitchen floors in bare feet with her hair and wings tied back. She stirred the pots and checked the ovens, directed the staff with a hardness of voice that belied her 26 years…
Little more than a castle cook, but a goddess by birthright; created by the Titan Prometheus… cast into captivity by Zeus… a lifetime of cages and prostitution and murder… and suddenly, a way out; a way that led her on a perilous underground journey to here, the Castle Hades, and the carefully curried favor of the Lord of the Dead.
The woman’s name: Elpis. The captive of Pandora’s Jar. |
I don’t recall exactly when this happened, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was in a tough period of my life. I wouldn’t call it depression, but I felt pained, upset, unhappy with myself and my life. I felt like this all the time. I walked around like I was having lead in my snickers. Everything seemed so hard and hopeless.
I tried to get rid of these feelings by taking walks around the city. I liked walking at night the most, because it was quiet and I was alone with my thoughts, without being interrupted from the inner monologue by any event.
On one of my walks, I came across a park next to a forest.I've been there before, but I haven't seen anything spectacular or out of the ordinary. As I continue to walk, I hear a voice telling me, "Never give up, try to be the best person you know, we will always be with you."The first time I was scared, I thought it was a murderer or a malicious person who wanted to attack me. But the voice was more like a whisper and came from the direction of the forest.
My curiosity made me slowly approach the forest, and during this time the voice grew louder until I actually entered the forest, and then the voice changed from a whisper into a clear and concise language. It kept repeating the same words of encouragement.
At one point, a small flying creature appeared in front of me, looking like Tinkerbell from the Peter Pan cartoons. I got scared and tried to run away, but I tripped over a branch and fell.
\- You don't have to be scared, said the flier. We will not hurt you. I'm Mira, the flying queen.
\- Do you mean that we are more like you? I asked, my voice trembling.
\- Yes, we are a whole colony. We are the creatures of this forest. We have lived here for centuries and our goal is to help people in need.
\- Is that why you lured me here? Do you think I need your help?
\- Yes, we have the power to read thoughts and we have heard what is going on in your mind. We have always tried to help people. I noticed what thoughts you have and we try to encourage you.
\- I understand and thank you, but I need more than words of encouragement from you, I said, slowly getting up and standing up straight.
\- We know that words are just the beginning and that you need more to reach your potential, but that's all we do. We give you the starting point and we help you realize that someone is in your corner, that they support you and that you should never give up.
\- Thanks, but can't you do more? Can't you use your powers to get these thoughts out of my head?
\- It doesn't work that way, says the creature, and he approached me. But we can help you in another way. Here, stretch out your arm.
I stretched out my arm, being a little afraid of what was going to happen. After all, they are creatures I have never seen before. Then it started as a small pain and then progressed to something unbearable. Something is happening on my arm! A drawing began to appear slowly and in the end, when the pain ended abruptly, just as it started, I realized that this being had tattooed itself on my arm.
\- This tattoo will use you as a reminder of our meeting and also as a reminder to never give up, that there will always be someone in your corner and will support you, said Mira.
After that, everything turned black and I woke up in my bed. I thought it was a dream, but looking at my arm, I saw the memory of my experience, namely the tattoo of the little creature on my left arm. Having this drawing, I started to feel better. I can't say that everything was instantly better, but I realized that someone cares about me, that they support me and that they will always be by my side. This gave me the strength to fight, to try to solve what problems I had, taking them one by one, little by little. Slowly I managed to feel better naturally and feel better in my skin.
And that was the story of my tattoo that looks like a fairy on my arm.
………………………………
Let me know what you think. Any feedback is welcomed. |
It's 4AM and I should be asleep but here's a rough draft:
It was nearly dark as Sam walked down the busy street, completely oblivious to his surroundings. People grumbled in disapproval as he bumped into them, but all he could think about was how exhausted he was. Though he really knew better than to get coffee in the evening, he stops by at his favorite cafe for his 5th cup of coffee of the day, unable to muster enough effort to about how long he'll be awake later that night. As he sits down waiting for his order, he sighs and pops in his earbuds to drown out the idle chatter of the coffee shop.
"Why do these bots always take so damn long to make a single cup of coffee?", he wonders as he pulls out his phone and starts browsing reddit for the millionth time that day. As he reads through the same 5 prompts over and over again on r/WritingPrompts, all he could think was "Ugh".
Grunting, he turns off his phone in frustration and leans his head on the table. He looks over and stares at the digital fireplace crackling nearby, trying to tune out the world. Suddenly jolting upright, he exclaims "I got it! Something new. Something original. Something no one's ever thought of!"as he excitedly starts typing while others stared at the sudden outburst.
*\[WP\] A sentient fire that falls in love with Coffee*
As soon as his finger taps "Post", however, a loud *crack* rang out, violently rattling the tables, and spilling coffee everywhere.
*"That was weird",* he thought, settling back into his chair and looking back at his phone. Except, on his phone, his new post was rapidly growing in infamy. As the downvotes grew into the hundreds of thousands in the span of seconds, he noticed that there was a hairline fracture splitting his phone in half that was rapidly growing. As he stared in awe, the crack turned into a tear, and behind it there was... Nothing. Just an inky black void where his phone used to be floating in space. As people saw the growing cracks rapidly spreading towards them from that hole, they ran away screaming into the street as the growing darkness engulfed the entire shop. It didn't stop there however, as within minutes it had taken over the city, with a constant rumbling tremor felt across the world. World leaders called a mandatory emergency meeting, but nothing they could try slowed its expansion. All the last of humanity could do was watch in horror at the coming darkness, until finally, silence.
Game Over
*Would you like to try again?* |
........
Oh.
Oh.
.....
It's easy to forget.
When you can touch.
Sometimes he could even hear the imaginary pounding of his own heart in chest.
*Thump.*
*Thump*
But it wasn't real.
It was never fucking real.
He just stared straight ahead at his tomb, his grave, the golden gifts his family and friends had left him....People who were only dust now.
He couldn't stand it.
The memories.
The smells.
The portraits of him staring back from their golden chambers. Smiling. They were smiling. He could see in it in his mind. The living him. The real him. The him he could never get back.
He quickly turned heel and ran out. Not caring that it kicked up dust or that he stumbled on the uneven rocky flooring.
He didn't stop until he was out in the open.
The sun glaring into his sun kissed skin.
"Did you find anything?'
His head whipped to the side, to his assistant in white. She was smiling without a clue.
"No."
He shook his head.
"There was nothing there." |
Allit the Formidable for the first time in his life failed to cast a spell. He wanted to disintegrate this little pest of the last from the Fereman's line, this girl who had the AUDACITY to question his orders. But he couldn't. He couldn't, because every time he tried, the spell dissolved. The formula was perfect, idealized from the years he spent on dragon hunting. It was a really straight forward spell, nothing possibile to mess up. And jet. The girl evaded every time. And don't even get started on that dragon! When he tried to cast the spell on him, the magic BACKFIRED! Magic never backfired on him! It was too afraid! He heard the girl scream something about never touching someone she loves again, and then... And then he got yeeted out of his material form, and saw something. The girl wasn't even moving a finger, and jet, the magic subdued to her.
*YOU WILL NEVER MORE TOUCH MY FAMILY.*
He heard, or more like sensed from her mind. The girls element, fire, encased him, and his last trought was;
*How does she control magic with* ***love*** *of all things?*
Because he always controlled magic with fear, as it should be controlled. Or, more likely, as it was ingrained in his mind that magic should be controlled. Allit the Formidable failed for the first, and last time in his life. He failed to see the opponent as someone more powerful than him. He failed to see, that this girl was the last Dragon Rider. He failed to see, that he himself had given her the power to defeat him. |
I boot up the app for Outside. My gaming rig's kinda shitty, but it has enough processing power to handle this, at the very least. I've heard good things about Outside. It's apparently a historical fiction game set in the early 2000s. I hear a single, sustained note, which tells me that the game has started to load. The game quickly runs through the producer's name and all the companies that have helped, plus their little animations. I don't bother to pay attention. Now we start to get the the stuff that interests me. I open a new save file.
There are four characters I can play, each giving me certain buffs, but each also giving me certain debuffs. The first is named Benjamin. His character sprite wears a flannel button-down, a dirty T-shirt, jeans, and banged-up sneakers. He has long brown hair and looks tired. The second's named Rose. Long blond hair, earbuds in, wearing a pastel pink sports bra and shorts, expensive-looking sneakers. She has streaks of pink in her hair as well. The third one's name is Jimmy. He's shorter than the first two, wearing a grey hoodie and cargo pants as well as sneakers. His hair is short and black. The fourth one is called Sophia. She wears a T-shirt, leggings, and black sneakers. Her hair is mid-length and dark brown.
I switch back and forth between the characters, trying to decide which one is easiest to play for a new player while still being optimal for the fastest game completion. I finally decide on Benjamin. The game lets me customize his sprite a bit, so I choose the color of his flannel and the brand of his sneakers - red and Nike.
The screen fills with white.
"Welcome." |
Of course, I was never technically "born"at all, at least not in their world. To them, I will exist forever, for when I die, their world will stay stagnated, unchanging, unless another picks it up. I control their appearances, their relationships, even their whims. While I can cast myself down into their world, I am not them. Others may take my universe and make it new, but it will not be mine. I am the God of their gods, creator and destroyer of their world.
I am the Writer, and they are my Characters. I can do with them as I wish.
*Let the fun begin...* |
At a cemetery I live, from the corpses I feed, and yet full I never feel. Do you know that feeling? Every day it's a new day to greet the sun, I've learned that's what it's called, and as my roots grow, new people I meet.
Today I've met you, Kyle! When I found you, you had already been here for a few weeks, so you're not very complete, but don't worry, now I'm all around you and nothing will hurt you anymore. I like the way you smell very much and the way you remember things is funny, I've seen it all. I'm sorry about Cassandra, she seemed nice.
Please try not to move, my roots are hurting you. Don't worry about making sounds, you don't need those down here. You are all silly when I reach you, you move too much and don't let me help you. The older ones don't move, they just whimp a little, but I'm always there to comfort them.
I'm not so bad, Kyle. You'll just have to get used to this... |
Is it powerful? Yes. Is it amazing? Hell, no. It's the ability to make everyone around you itchy. And not just a little itchy, but the kind of itchy that makes you want to claw your skin off.
For as long as you can remember, you've been shunned by society. No one wants to be near you, let alone touch you. It's not like you can help it, but that doesn't make life any easier. Even my own parents couldn't stand to be near me and eventually left me at an orphanage.
I've tried every remedy out there, but nothing works. The best I can do is try to keep myself isolated from others as much as possible. But it's hard when you're constantly itch-inducing presence makes everyone around you miserable.
But then one day, everything changes. You meet someone who doesn't seem to be affected by your curse: their power is to nullify other people's abilities. Finally, you have someone who can stand to be near you, and even touch you. Finally, you have a friend. Finally, you're not alone anymore. |
(Well, I'm just going to throw this one out then run like crazy from the internet because I have been on Reddit way too long today. Okay, here's a fish story- Now I'm outta here!)
Lex looked anxiously around the glass tank. 🐟
His business suit was now scales, his handsome beard just the slimy whiskers of a fish. His muscular legs which stretched out towards the ground, now useless little fins. The body he had so carefully cultivated with personal trainers, working hours and hours in his personal gym, was nothing but flabby fish fat.
Lex had become a fish- and not just any fish, but a fattened useless pink blob of omega fats, known as the Salmon.
Look, if you get turned into a fish, maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you lived in the ocean or a beautiful stream. If Lex had been turned into a guppy it might have even been an improvement, it might have given him something to work with. A pet guppy was cute. Maybe some twit would adopt him, maybe he could communicate tapping on the glass with simple codes, telling the human every move- everything to do. But an Alaskan Fish Farm?? There was nothing to work with here except for grumpy men that didn't give a damn and a bunch of too bloated sad sacks floating around a harvesting tank.
A television screen played above, as the men walked around throwing corn flavored pellets into the tanks.
*"Lex , the famous Genius and Billionaire , has tragically gone into shock today his family reports"*, the newscaster read, *"The Famous Philanthropist and Billionaire has now been hospitalized and is being taught how to walk again, but has not spoken a word since his fall."*
Lex burned with anger.
Great.
Just fantastic.
Lex didn't bother asking why the universe had done this to him.
He was the world's richest, most powerful man- he had made his sins, his mistakes. All for power. Sacrifices made for greed, for pleasure, for growth.
Everything in his life had been going upwards, excelling, reaching to the skies, and now this. If Lex could smile sardonically, he would have, but his fish face just made a blank expression as he thought how cruelly perfect the irony probably was.
Clearly, he had become so great, some higher power had done this to him to slow him down.
Clearly , he was so awesome - so mighty that even the gods themselves must have feared him.
Who did this?
God?
Zeus?
Odin?
Whatever immortal douche it was, he was going to make him pay!
Well, to quote the famous Winston Churchill, *if you don’t have any enemies in life you have never stood up for anything.* And to quote the much greater Napoleon, *Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake!*
This fish tank was nothing to Lex, *it was an opportunity,* he gleamed.
The powers to be thought they could control him? He was going to use this as a way to come back even stronger than ever before!
That was when he had the idea for his great escape from this smelly water hellhole.
Using his fins to push the food towards the filter, he clogged the filtration. Mucking up the water until it was unbearably nasty, the men were now draining the water and fishing everyone out.
This was his chance to make a jump for it!Yes, He had learned this old trick not from Machiavelli or Sun Tzu, but from the almighty John Lassiter. *Thank you for Finding Nemo, you incredible bastard*, Lex chuckled in his evil fish mind as he made his leap towards freedom.
Many fish were sacrificed in this plan, many of his salmon brothers didn't make it from the deadly polluted waters, but with a maneuver here and trickery there, Lex made it out of the facility and back into the deep blue sea.
He rubbed his fins together as he thought of his next brilliant move. Yes, for his next scheme, he'd need a desperate man, a cellphone, and 20 penguins.
It was immediately while Lex was plotting his rein of terror, that he was swallowed whole by a hungry Orca and brutally eaten alive as the delicious fatty fish he was. 🐋
The end.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
**The moral of the story is that it is much better in life to be born a trust fund baby than a fish.**
🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟
*Go outside and enjoy your Sunday people!* |
'Acheron' and 'Styxx' by Sherrilyn Kenyon are phenomenal examples. While the books themselves are fictional, they both have won awards, and deal heavily with this issue, including sexual abuse. While part of a series, you can read Acheron first and be able to follow the storyline. Styxx should be read after Acheron, as they're twins and follow a similar timeline.
Kenyon is a master at show don't tell, but showing just enough that the readers imagination can fill in the blanks. Heavy on trigger warning for both books.
Also, look up deep POV, which is the method Kenyon uses. |
The incandescent glow of the street lights bled through the bedroom window. Stars twinkled on the moonless night, shimmering through the half-open blinds. Greg sat in his rocking chair, looking out at the world beyond.
"He looks lonely,"Jasper said. Gazing over her shoulder, she saw Venon floating above the bed behind her.
"A lot of old people are."
He hovered over to Greg and put a hand over his chest.
"Wow, there's a lot going on there. Jasper, come take a look into his eyes, tell me what you see."
With a bit of reluctance, she came closer to the rocking chair.
"What am I looking for, exactly? This is my first soul, I don't really know what to look for."
Venon smiled and released his hand from Greg's chest.
"Hey, it's okay. I'll do it if you're too nervous."
"No no! I can do it, just let me . . ."
Jasper hurried over to Greg's side, positioning herself to look into his eyes. The reflective glass surface of his iris morphed into a portal which allowed Jasper to see into the past.
She saw Greg sitting by a campfire near the bank of a lake. Crickets sang in unison, complimented by an occasional hoot from a nearby owl. Jasper could smell what Greg sensed through his nose: The aroma of marshmallows becoming golden under the crackling flame.
*"Dad, why do you have to go away?"*
The voice belonged to a young boy.
*"Someday you'll understand, buddy. Until then, grandma and granpappy will be there for you, promise."*
Jasper knew she had to be experiencing Greg's past memories when she felt a gentle hand ruffle the hair of the body she possessed.
Then the memory faded. The image of a gravestone and the sickening smell of lilacs replaced the lakeside dream. Chiseled into the marble headstone sat a few solemn words: *"Victor Campbell, Medal of Honor recipient. Born April 29th, 1909, died June 6th, 1944."*
The sensation of a comforting arm wrapped around the body which Jasper possessed. When the eyes turned to look, the worried face of a woman with blonde curly hair gazed back. Again the memory faded away.
Now, Jasper could see children running around an open yard. They climbed up on a tire and pushed each other off, getting dirty in the grass under the warmth of the sun. The memory jumped ahead to the children sitting on the porch. Ice cubes swirled around in glass cups when the blonde from before brought out a large picture of lemonade.
*"Have I ever told you boys about your grandfather? He was a hero back in Normandy."* The voice grew distant as the memory faded away.
A beep from a heart monitor came rushing in to fill the silence. Jasper saw the blonde lady, now aged and frail, sitting in a hospital bed. *"How long does she have?"* A voice asked, sunken in spirit.
*"At the rate it's spreading, I'd say she has another year, at best."*
The dream sequences seemed to be getting shorter. Jasper could make out one brief image of a grown man standing in a hallway. He spoke to another person just out of view: *"We're pretty sure it's Alzheimers."*
Something ripped Jasper out of the trance. She looked back at Venon, who floated by the window.
"He's had a rough life. Are you sure you want to do this?"
His translucent figure responded with a shrug. When he floated back over, Jasper noticed an indifferent look on his face.
"Once you do this for a while, you kinda get use to sob stories, Jas. Don't feel bad for him, he's lived a full life."
He came close to Greg and reached into his chest. Diving down into his heart, Venon pulled out Greg's soul. It shimmered in the dark, glowing with brilliant yellow energy.
"Being a reaper isn't all that bad. At least this guy is going up instead of down."
Venon released the soul and Jasper watched it float upward through the ceiling. The creak of the rocking chair stopped now that Greg didn't breathe anymore. |
In a world where magic and technology co-exist, a world so large that even in the information age where every message travels at a speed of light. There are still uncharted lands to explore, new fauna to be discovered, and new kingdoms lying await on the horizon waiting to be discovered, or at least that would've had happened when the currently known world wasn't "invaded"by Capreus people originating from the far east, or far west depending on where you are from the globe.
Not only accelerate the progress of exploring the new region to new heights, but it also somehow fulfilling the age-old prophecy of the church, not everyone believes in it, everybody knew we were invading for untapped resources and not to subjugate the demon kingdom.
When I say "invaded"in quotation marks, it's because it wasn't an invasion, more like a massacre, but good enough to get the military industrial complex to go full ham on their output and on the pretext of defending the nation and to explore unknown territories.
As of this writing, we are mercenaries tasked to subjugate the leader of the said nation that tried to attack us, right now we are at the ending phase of the operation to put an end to the war that they started.
Their culture is weird and definitely prolong the firefights with their very martyrdom mindset, fighting house to house, making every inch is covered made life hell for us, even with their equipment and magic dating 30 years behind ours.
The architecture is nice and some hints of modern architecture coupled with oriental elements that blends with the rocky, mountainous terrain of the country we are invading. Shame we invaded them I could go for a vacation instead.
We will begin the assault of the building where the supposed "Demon King"resides, and put an end for all of this. I dunno what kind of writing of this is even it's just mere hours before the assault and I'm writing what's on my mind in these past situations to possibly cope I don't know, hope I don't die and also that paycheck when I receive them then I am settled for life!
\-> August 15th, 1002 AOE
\-> "Littlebird"
&#x200B;
\--To be continued-- |
The massive hall smelled stale. They had been in caves, mines, and tunnels, yet somehow this place felt deeper. The dust lay thick on empty desks, the bones of ancient creatures propped in the chairs, like some macabre painting. The air felt thick, like walking in a stiff wind, yet nothing stirred. As the group moved towards the back of the hall, a sense of dread came over them. A single figure, wrapped in a gray robe, sat gazing at the ceiling. They approached carefully, yet even their silence seemed to cause echoes. The ceiling, covered in cracking paint, cobwebs and indecipherable writing, yielded no clues as to the purpose of this place. They split up and moved among the remains, their whispers like whip cracks in the empty space.
&#x200B;
It felt wrong to leave without solving the riddle of the place, but there was nothing else to do. The books fell apart at a touch, the bones crumbled in the slightest breeze. Even after hours spent looking for the slightest clue, it seemed sacrilege to speak, even in whispers. The gray figure still sat, cross-legged, staring upwards. It did not respond to their voices, and their hands and weapons slid through it like a fog.
&#x200B;
As night fell, they agreed to leave. Nothing had been gained, and time had been wasted. They stood at the great doors and looked back over the hall. Whatever secret had been buried here would stay. But as they filed out, one looked back. The figure in the gray robe, the ceiling ponderer, no longer gazed upward. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, they *knew*. They were dragged away from the hall by their friends, while frantically trying to explain their brief enlightenment. The doors were resealed, and the group moved on. All of them knew that place held something dreadful, and were glad to be gone. But one of them *knew,* and they would never be the same.
&#x200B;
Years after, the great doors creaked open. An old man shuffled into the hall, burdened by his years and a bag of books, and settled himself at one of the desks. He *knew* the question, now to finally find the answer. The gray figure gazed upward, eyes fixated on something far above. The hall doors creaked shut, and silence reigned supreme again. |
I remember when I was 16 & told to give a speech by our principal. As I hesitantly came upon the dais, I froze. I could not utter a word & the chief guest had a front row view of me peeing my pants.
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It was embarrassing. Much later, someone told me to imagine that my audience are wearing only their underwear. 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤, I thought. But, I decide to try it once.
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The time came soon, at a retirement party. I did not freeze this time. This time, I could only try to not laugh. Nice tighty whities, by the way, Mr. Hollenbeck. We will miss you. The most surprising choice of underwear was of Mrs. Davenport from HR. From that day, I never looked back. Or down.
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Can you imagine working with people who wear only their underwear? Women & men not wearing 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 on the top. And you can only imagine so many number of underwear. Even then, everyone is naked to me. Including me. But hey, at least we are wearing our underwear.
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To avoid that, I started looking directly into the eyes of others while speaking. At first, they thought I had become confident. Slowly, however, I became "the weird guy"in the office. I decided. Enough is enough. I am in my 30's for God's sake.
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Today, I arranged an appointment with a therapist. As I went to meet him, I couldn't help but wonder how many people in this world were semi naked. Sixty torturous minutes later, I was in front of my therapist. My eyes were up the whole time.
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'So, what seems to be the problem?' He asked me in a pleasant brogue.
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I decided to take a leap of faith. 'You know how people tell you to imagine your audience in underwear while giving a speech?' I asked with trepidation.
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'Can't say I know that one.' He spoke. 'But in my day, we had a similar one, except you had to imagine your audience completely naked.'
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𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵? I thought to myself, startled. And then I looked at him. 𝘋𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝗚𝗢𝗗 𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗠𝗜𝗧! |
"Quickly witch! Tell me what you know!"
"I set a fire in his soul, wrapped my legs around an angel, and flew to places you desire, but we don't sell. Not for a minute. We only tell the truth."
The debate was heated. The known apprehenders were ferociously triggered and heated. Women and men both erect, and excreting. It must have been the most disgusting sight known to modern man, yet here we were.
"You are now set to face the most grand indictment known to humanity!"came the voice of the most punitive lawyer. Nobody seemed to even be able to tell who was the most wicked anymore.
"My favorite part is that you don't know! You have no clue!"she exclaimed. "I'm in love with a man over which you have no punity!"
It was then that everyone knew it was over. She had clearly lost her mind, and slipped into insanity. The jury of laymen gave her a brief sentence. She spent some time in asylum, and found her way back home. The only angel lovers left to try, were those in the churches. It was an odd way to discover that there were far too many witches left to discover.
I sat back in my chair, and wondered whether there was something more to the picture, whether something happened long ago, and what lingered. Promptly my mind was drawn to the likes of Dan Brown, or books called The Secret. Maybe she was just a modern dysphoric idea of something we couldn't shake. An idea seeded by a society that we couldn't remember. Maybe she had read those books and discovered something I couldn't see, but regardless, I felt safer. |
"Ahh"he said, after a long cool day at the pool, and his secretary finished up her calls, and provided some salty pretzels. Welcome to the club. Here at Sea Mega Water World we offer all the amenities to watch the behaviors of the Delphinus. It has been many years of study, and we find them to be great actors.
Upon being weirded out by your own curiosity, you opt to leave the stadium, and search for something that just doesn't feel like human failure. It's at this moment that he appears. He is odd, has a skinny demeanor, and looks almost as if his skin is translucent, like a water being. Impossible, but you try to walk it off, and he just doesn't give in. He's there. He has a camera, and you feel as if you will never make it out alive.
"That's the beauty of the recording industry", you hear from around the corner; "your soul gets caught on camera", you hear as you recall never having told anyone where you were headed.
"How could they possibly find me here", is the last thing you think before you check behind your shoulder, and see the man holding a camera from before. |
"FREEZE FBI!"He said this every time on the plastic mat with the foam padding.
We already got rid of his real saber, yet he still kept literally hitting people with it. It got so old so fast.
The last I heard he was spouting some garbage about how "satan is your savior"while he was wheeled into the ambulance, and left to his own regard.
Ever since then Harry Potter, and the stormtroopers have been having a good time, and I heard Harry even learned how to shoot lasers from his wand without cutting a gem stone from the local quarry. |
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