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jg932xe
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[WP] On your 18th birthday, you casted your first spell. The next day, a group of fine men and women came to your house, wanting to induct you into the magical community. “Oh, so are there any big dangers or schools I need to attend to?” “Err, no. It’s just the five of us.”
|
The people, without a choice to escape the scorching deserts of Light, fled to the Night. In the border, small amounts of life flourished, the power from each side bleeding over slightly to the other. But it would not hold against the planet that had finished tidally locking itself years ago, and they fled deeper.
They did not find a frozen mountain. They found life, bioluminescent without need for the Sun, heated by massive creations of Night. Further in, the Elves found the same Humans that had gone with Lady Night so long ago.
Creativity was something that Night was better at, and with it came the Human’s MagiTech. The land of Night used forces more primordial than the gods themselves to bring balance, and they thrived, visiting the stars themselves and exiting Fate’s domain.
I, Lady Night, exiled myself after my sister, Sun, wanted to watch over mortals eternally. She rallied her Elves against my Humans, and we were pushed out.
Now, her people came fleeing the devastation they caused. Elementals gone rampant was an understatement; the nature of reality caught up with her, and every last aspect of her regime collapsed instantly.
“Sister,” she begged me. “Reality is failing…”
“On your half it is,” I agreed.
“Help me…”
“I can’t,” I replied. “Not without destroying balance. This is on you.”
“But there will be no balance anyway.”
“There will be. I control just as much light as you do, but you forsook your darkness to me. When it dissolves, I will still be able to keep balance.”
“Your sibling is dying.”
“She died when she first tried to kill me.”
“Do you not care?”
“Not anymore. I have everything and everyone I need. I even have a new family. One that cares, instead of competes.”
“But-“
“I will raise your rebirth. Maybe then you’ll understand.”
“Don’t kill me, please.”
“You killed yourself. Goodbye. Just because I am dark, does not mean I hide horrors.”
|
"Well hello my dear sister Whitey, to what I owe you the pleasure of this visit?"
"Stop with your pleasantries my brother Blackie, you know what I want. Let's go back to Gaea. Gaea needs you."
Blackie smiled and said, "oh no, I can't, I am being banished here. Did you forget? You and your chosen heroes banished me here 2 years 7 months, 20 days, 23 hours and 45 seconds ago. I am enjoying my stay in this void, this darkness, it feels like home now. No obligation, no work, I am living my life to the fullest here"
Whitey started stomping her feet, "NO, you need to work now, the Gaea is in state of dying right now."
Blackie tilted his head, "none of my business, I am happy here"
Whitey then fell on her knees, "I am sorry, it is my fault, please help me, I begged you. Please at least help Gaea."
Blackie then said "you finally understand why we are brother and sister, inseparable? Yes I am scary, I am the darkness, the cold night, the nightmares, the bad. But without darkness, light will overpower everything. No one can sleep, no plants can produce oxygen, every life on Gaea will be on overdrive from staying awake. I am surprised it took you this long to ask for my help."
Whitey with her sulked and said, "so you know about it and didn't tell me about it. It happened 1 year after you got sealed. I tried to put it under control but the world fell into instanity now. People killed each other since they saw each other every second, nothing stopped their mind from overthinking bad scenarios, no dream that sooth their soul, even oxygen level went down so drastic because trees don't produce oxygen anymore, many creatures went extinct."
Blackie then laughed, "think before you act my sister, do you think your mere chosen heroes can defeat a God? I let myself being sealed so I can get some vacation"
Whitey then said, "ok, no more chit chat, let's bring balance to Gaea."
Blackie then said, "well, for payment, you can give me souls of your heroes."
Whitey got shocked and asked, "you want my best pets? It took me tens of years to raise them!"
Blackie said, "well I need some toys too, kinda itchy to torture some high quality toys."
Whitey then gruntled and said, "ok fine then."
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kzzkwci
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kzzirr1
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[WP] As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is.
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read the rules and responses cannot be sexually explicit.
I had to sanitize my original draft.
I think the comedic factor was reduced but the desexed version should be ok.
it's been a while since I wrote something. please be kind
-----
The skies of Olympus were still dark when Zeus returned home in the early hours of the morning. In the form of a black swan, he flew to the mansion at the top of Mount Olympus and entered through a window in a guest room that he had left open the evening before.
After transforming back to his human form, he pressed his ear to the door and listened for any sound. The coast was clear. He quietly opened the door and entered the hallway. Even though he was trying to be stealthy as he tiptoed towards the bedroom he shared with Hera, there was a swagger to his movement. A smirky grin appeared on his face as he recalled the dalliance the night before. He chuckled like a pervert but stopped when his wife's screams reached his ears.
She was having sex with someone else!
Alarmed with what he heard, he quickly ran to the bedroom and took a peek through the gap in the partially opened doorway. He gasped at what he saw. His prim and proper wife was gyrating on top of a man, grinding her hips, and moaning out obscenities!
Due to the darkness of the room, he couldn't see who the man was. Whoever it was, he was pleasuring her like an expert.
"Oh! You're so much better than my husband!"
Zeus' shocked face quickly turned angry and he slammed the door open and barged into the room.
"What the hell is going on here?"
The reaction he got was not what he expected.
For one thing, they didn't stop.
"Hello, dear. Back home so soon from another one of your whores? We're not quite done yet. My paramour has been here since you left and he's not quite finished."
Zeus stuttered.
"You-- you're having an affair!"
"With all the women you've had, you're the one to talk."
"But you're the goddess of the family!"
"Well, I've been trying to keep this family from breaking apart for years. With all your affairs, it hasn't been one for a long time. Also, the mortals have something called a divorce. I'm going to sue you for all you've got. Then I'm going to marry this man and have a real family!"
Zeus was livid. A lightning bolt appeared in his hand.
"I will not allow this! You won't be able to marry him if he's dead!"
Zeus hurled the bolt at the man and the room turned white. As the light faded, Zeus expected to see the dead burnt out husk of the man, but the man appeared to be unharmed.
The man turned and Zeus could see his face for the first time. Zeus could see lightning dancing in the man's eyes.
The man spoke.
"Hi, Dad."
|
I’m a housewife but not from one of the major markets. New Orleans. Nobody thought our show would make it very far. New Orleans wealth is shaggier, less boisterous. If you’re still here after everything, it’s mostly about love which isn’t what the real housewives franchise is about. But I guess that’s what worked for us.
It’s been 4 seasons so far and it’s my job now. It came at a convenient time. I never got around to figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. Daddy issues.
The best times are when the show is off the air. It’s less busy, less chaotic. Less dangerous. It’s dangerous not because of random stalkers or weirdos on the internet. I would take any of them over what I really have to worry about which is Hera.
Hera LOVES my show. It makes sense. Given her love of drama, she’d love the housewives. There would be rumors of her showing up randomly at reunions, only to be seen by a random seer in the audience who just happened to be there and make a TikTok about it. None of it is confirmed because how do you confirm something like that?
One of the New York Housewives got drunk at a convention and said Hera visits her during her season but she’s not supposed to tell anyone. I can’t imagine I’m the only person she’s told but everyone keeps quiet, in case it’s true. Hera isn’t known for being particularly forgiving.
She comes to the house on Wednesday nights right after the show to talk about it. She lays cinematically on this random loveseat we have in our bedroom which looks like I placed perfectly just for her. I didn’t. My ex-husband loved how big this master bedroom was. We were new rich. He just signed a 200 million dollar contract with the New Orleans Saints.
“We just sleep here, why does it need to be so big?” I said to him at the time.
“Because it can be that big. Why not?”
I guess it was big so Hera could be comfortable. She’d lay there and recount the events of the episode and ask questions for hours. I’d sit in bed with the covers half over me so she wouldn’t see me shake. I was terrified. Sometimes she’d comment on it.
“Dear, relax. You’d think you’d be used to me by now. If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it already.” Hera is impossibly beautiful in that threatening way. There’s something sinister about having all that beauty. She’d do something to me when I was stressed. I’d feel super relaxed and talkative at the wave of her hand. This used to scare me too because I needed to be sure that I kept my mouth shut about the big thing. That one big thing that she’d hurt me if she knew.
I’m Zeus’s daughter. One of many. Hera hates us. There are horror stories about all the ways she makes our lives miserable. My mom had me shielded by my aunt, a voodoo priestess and it seems to be working. I don’t have the smell of him on me anymore.
Hera likely knows I’m a child of a God but likely thinks I’m one of Dionysus’s children which are all over New Orleans. He loves it here. Harmless to her. That’s why I haven’t been tortured yet.
But you can’t keep secrets this big forever and that was all about to change.
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j48c1w9
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j485yuo
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[WP] The government shows up to your house, apparently there's an alien armada heading for Earth and the ruler of their species is asking for you. Apparently you matched on Starcrossed, a intergalactic dating app
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I'll be honest- growing up I've always had sticky fingers:
£20 note on the pavement? I'm already planning on how to spend it.
Lost items? Mine now.
Hell, anyone's leftovers are fair game. Free food is free food right?
So a brand new phone abandoned along my usual shortcut home was right up my ally. I waited longer than I usually would for the poor sod to reclaim their property- I'm an opportunist not a monster.
But after an hour with no soul in sight it slid into my pocket- another treasure I found to keep.
Jailbreaking it was a nightmare the default language was in a text I'd never seen before: a hybrid of Arabic and Hieroglyphics but the UI was intuitive enough that I was able to switch the language to English- granted after getting locked out of the phone more times than I'd like to admit.
Getting a SIM card to work with the phone and finding a compatible charger took a bit more ingenuity, more active kleptomacy and actually having to research. But I managed and bit by bit I unlocked its almost sci-fi capabilities.
The previous owner had strange tastes in apps and I deleted most of them except a strangely addictive one that translated to Starcrossed. It was a dating app meets animal crossing meets war game. You started off with a small island that you could build up invite more power NPCs to form alliances with and conquer other islands and later worlds for new decor, stronger armies and bragging rights.
Late game had less decorating and more forming alliances with real players "matching" as it was called.
There were 3 tiers to matching- Lunar matches Solar matches and Astral matches.
Lunars (or as I called them loonies) swiped on your profile and if you swiped back you matched and they got to chat with you. It was was pretty much always NSFW and seemingly ruled by furries or scalies? You'd get EXP points when people swiped on your profile and bonus points when you swiped back on someone who'd swiped you.
Digging through the trash would net you your solar matches
Solar matches cost a ton of the in game currency but allowed you to form more permanent alliances letting you share your hub worlds and group together to conquer other worlds as larger groups and generally just chill with your guild.
Astral matches were end game- an unbreakable alliance that few players went for because of "real world consequences"
I was lucky to Lunar match early with Ntzarki who basically walked me through the early game of Starcrossed whilst I found my feet. He noticed my profile was a picture I'd taken near big Ben and wanted to brush up on his earth speak (his phone would autocorrect English most of the time which I found hilarious) to read a really obscure book that was not translated into his native tongue. And in exchange he helped me grind to complete the sweet treats deco set. We chatted as much as the character limits the Lunar matches allowed for that limited time event.
That might have been the extent of our friendship as I am a certified non whale but I found a glitch in the game that let me farm the in game currency for free as Starcrossed seemed to break fairly consistently in the English translation and kept on giving me the daily login rewards.
Free things are my weakness and the rush of mild larceny and ability to fully decorate my island kept me playing longer than I usually would.
That sunk me deeper into the game and deeper into a friendship with Ntzarki before I knew it we were Solar matched and planning to conquer worlds with the few other game friends I had made. Another glitch we had figured out was since I was the only European playing I was playing on a server I wouldn't normally access which also meant I had an in with other servers I shouldn't really be on. Ntzarki was good at finding underleveled servers - we'd raid take whole servers at a time and spend our loot in our hub world until our solar alliance was the strongest on our home server.
And outside Starcrossed we'd become discord friends and got each other into other books and games. At one point Ntzarki tried to teach me their language but whilst their English was pretty good now I couldn't hope to wrap my tongue around their language.
And when you've pretty much conquered Starcrossed destroyed every other server and cemented your guild as the strongest alliance the only logical thing was for Ntzarki and I to Astral match....
|
Hi my name is Jared and I am currently in a very significant and awkward position right now considering the fact that I am 24 and single with only $24.39 to my name. That isn't the my biggest concern at the moment as I am currently being driven in a blacked out Chevrolet Suburban to a remote location in the middle of the Nevada desert. The guys I am with aren't much of the chatty types as they haven't said a word since I got in the car a couple of hours ago. I tried to poke and prod their minds with questions, but they aren't breaking the silence with my great social skills. I guess I should start at the beginning when this all happened.
Saturday's are something of a religious tradition to me since my workplace allows me days off on weekends. It was really a godsend perk of my employer since I know very rarely position like this get offered. I'm sorry I apology, I'm getting off track from what happened to me. After getting up to go run with my dog in the morning I turn on the news to see if it's going to rain while I'm out, I see a segment on the comet that will pass by earth. I think nothing of it and head out the door. Running early in the morning smelling all the morning dew and seeing your breath leave your mouth is so peaceful and I every second of it. I love having this time to myself that I sometimes yearn for another person to share it with.
Which reminded me of the app that I download on my phone last week. It was called Starcrossed and I downloaded on a recommendation from a person that I met in bar last weekend. Nothing really on it but a bunch of people cosplaying star wars or other stuff. I didn't think much of it since I am working on a Chainsaw man cosplay as well, I checked it when I got to an intersection to see if someone was interested. To my loner selfs surprise I got a match from a foreigner that wanted to see me later that evening. They were really gorgeous and I worked up the courage to say yes. after that heart wrenching moment I composed myself and got back to my run.
Good time by Owl City and Carly Rae Jepsen came on about thirty minutes from my house and I am in a very good mood that I start jamming out. In the middle of my jam session I am seemingly and quickly yanked into a black van with no windows and had my faced covered in a cloth. I pass out and the next moment I came to I was on a plane during that whole ordeal Good Time was still playing on repeat. While on the plane I noticed nobody else was on the plane except me and the pilots that were flying. Scared and worried I start to look in my pockets for my phone and keys. Nothing, I searched everywhere and I couldn't seem to find anything even my dog. The only things I had was my wallet and a ID pass around my neck.
After a good 15 minutes of flying we finally start descending to the ground. I wanted to check my surrounding a bit to calm down, and I see the statue of liberty in the distance as well as the eiffel tower and the... "oh we're in Vegas". My mind did calm down a bit and to that end I find myself escorted off the plane and into the Suburban were I am now. Were now coming up to a very ominous checkpoint that I feels like I am someone of special interest to them. After driving another 15 minutes we arrive at a plane hangar and as it opens I see Air Force One peer behind the doors. At that moment I knew this was something much bigger than me.
After seeing the presidential plane you'd expect to see the President, and well you'd be right. The President of the free world comes up to greet me and to give me the real reason why I am here. One of US Generals takes me inside AFO (Air Force One), firstly they apologized to me about the methods used to get me here. They assumed I wouldn't willingly go, In which case they would presume correct. Getting back to the issue at hand they finally told me the reason why I was brought here. The information I got was an Alien armada disguised as a comet is coming toward Earth. First contact was made surprisingly easy as they had a translator that directly communicated with the government to let them know what they're intentions were.
It seems that all the puzzles were fitting together and I finally understood what was happening. The app I downloaded was an intergalactic dating app that matched me with a queen who was heading towards Earth to greet the self proclaimed King. Realizing my dating bio might have triggered the match stating that I was a "big boy king" seems to have backfired. Still this was a huge deal as this was the first time we as a human species had been contacted by alien race. The implications this has will be written down in the history books for years to come, effectively changing the course of human history.
To think this all stemmed from a dating app that a mysterious stranger told me to download.
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lel2c4q
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lekpshp
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[WP] You died, you met a god(dess), and you got offered a new life in another world with the usual package -- OP powers, a personal harem, the works. Smelling a scam, you refused. That pissed them off.
|
"If it's too good to be true, it likely is."
"Are you calling my offer to become a Chosen One...a scam?"
"Isn't it?"
"I would kill you on the spot! If only you weren't already dead!"
"Hit me with something, or you're full of bullshit."
"That's what you said! Don't blame me if it hurts!"
"Oww, oww. Okay! Stop! You made your point!"
"We could be at this all day, for all eternity until you accept my offer to be a Chosen One. Do you not like being OP with hot girls fawning over you and a band of awesome sidekicks? I have seen the LitRPG stuff you read. Why would you not love my offer?"
"Because those are escapist fantasies!"
"Why would you not want to live out your escapist fantasy? I am giving you exactly what you dream of! Take it! Or else!"
"Ughh, okay! Stop dropping anvils on me like some looney toons character! Lemme tell you why. Because, I know, at the end of the day, I need to wake up from my dreams. Get out of the fantasy and back to reality."
"If you love your dull, boring reality as a fast food worker so much, you can have it back!"
"Suits me just fine! Your Chosen One offer is a scam anyway!"
"Don't regret it, foolish mortal! And remember, if you get yourself killed jumping in front of a truck, trying to be a hero again, you will see me again!"
**
--
"Back again so soon? What is it with you and pushing little kids away from trucks?"
"Why is it you again?
"That's what I asked. Why don't you pull them to safety instead?"
"The hell I know! It was all very instinctive."
"I hate to admit this, but there isn't anyone like you in this afterlife. So, do you want to be a Chosen One?"
"You still running this scam again?"
"Stop accusing me of a scam! Look, I could just chuck you into the isekai world, but consent is important. There's been a newly formed union of heroes suffering from Main Character Syndrome. They successfully sued us gods of Isekai for forcible kidnapping and endangerment! So now I need your fucking consent."
---
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
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**LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS MY FIRST WRITING PROMPT PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO IMPROVE IF IT MAKES YOU FREEZE IN AGONISING AGONY.**
--------------------------------------------
*
*
"Yeah, no."
**"OF COURSE, FOR THY OFFER IS SOMETHING TO BE CH-did thou say no?"**
"Yes."
**"....Perhaps I hath misheard. You...would refuse the life all men crave?"**
"Bingo."
**"You...would deny a world its hero?"**
"Got it in one."
**"Deny thyself a purp-"**
"I had a purpose, dude. Up there. Your driver buddy seemed pretty eager to end it."
*"nothin' personal, mate."*
"No offense taken. Its your all powerful boss there I'm ticked with."
*"cheers."*
**"You had served a weak purpose, mortal, granting the petty wishes of tiny newborns-"**
*"he made ice cream for kids, boss."*
**"And I, in My all seeing and all knowing glory, singled thy out for greatness, for a far greater goal, and yet you would refuse?!"**
"Like he said, I sold frozen treats to kids. Light of my life might have just been seeing them smiling, but I'm not stupid."
**"I-I have no idea what thou means, mor-"**
"If I have to die, I'd want it to be because it was my time, not because you want to toss people into clearing a mess you made. No offense."
*"nah, none taken. almighty there's been launching me on kids all over the world."*
**"B-boatman, Thy may wish to shut thy mout-"**
"Hold up, you....you took kids? Like, actual kids?"
**"I NEEDNT EXPLAIN THE ACTIONS OF GODS TO YOU, MORT-"**
*"i mean it was kinda fucked up boss. probably won't take long to start up a spirit revolt with that kind of info. wink wink."*
"That...that wasn't my intentio-"
**"....I CANNOT...believe my Boatman has a point. Mortal....if thy chooses not to blab about My...actions, I shall grant thy one wish. Providing thy not take the DESIRABLE AND POWERFUL TRIP OF THY LI-"**
"Y-yeah, We've made that bit clear. Uh....I'm guessing I can't just wish for you to stop..."
*"if it worked that way, king numpty would be off his throne ages ago."*
**"Watch thy tone, Boatman.**
"...but maybe there's the next best thing?"
*
*
"I didnt even think they had ice cream in the underworld, mister! Thank you so much!"
"No Problem kid, stay away from the soul-cracks!"
*"yknow when you said the next best thing, i didn't think that would be an ice cream parlour to keep the kids around here happy."*
"Your boss wanted me to fight with a sword and shield. I'd rather fight with a scoop."
*"....but you'd rather not fight at all, yeah?."*
"Bingo."
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j56xlkz
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j56lrn2
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[WP] You realized your house is "haunted" by a poltergeist, but upon closer observation the ghost is actually helping you out with your day-to-day house chores
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Danielle stood over the grave of his son as the rain poured down, one thought looping through her mind.
*God this is such a cliche.*
A horrible thought to have when she could have been remembering all the times she'd had with her son.
But to be fair, it really was a cliche. The pouring rain and clouded sky mirroring hir grief. The solitary figure alone over the interred body of her son. Heck, it was even late fall so all the trees were barren of leaves. She contemplated stopping the rain, but everyone with sufficient power to control the weather was currently out of range, and there *was* something almost soothing of having the very weather reflect how you felt inside.
*How did it all turn into a cliche?* Danielle wasn't even sure how long she'd been standing there, let alone how many times she'd asked himself that same question. *I've spent my entire life avoiding the cliche. Changing the story, making the unexpected happen. Well, you didn't expect this, did you?*
"Hello Danielle."
Danielle glanced over her shoulder, saying nothing. Even if she wouldn't have recognized that voice anywhere, David had sensed him approaching from miles away, a warm little glow in the back of her mind, and they both knew it. The handsome man with a bodybuilder's physique was only a few paces away, sheltering under an umbrella in a formal black suit.
"I'm so sorry for you loss."
Danielle remained silent, turning back to her son's headstone.
"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did." The visitor tried again, the barest hint of strain entering a voice that normally held nothing but pure confidence. "You know how kids are, especially ones with real power. It goes to their head. They get reckless, egg each other on, make mistakes. And... and I can tell you that they're really torn up about this. They're having a hard time accepting wha-"
"So that wasn't them celebrating their big win a few nights back, partying the night away? Toasting the highlights of their 'epic battle'? Did their mentors even scold them once they knew, or hand wave it away as the cost of raising the next generation of 'heroes'?" Danielle interrupted, looking over her shoulder again. "When was the last time you tried to lie straight to my face? It's been years, at the least."
The man said nothing.
"Well answer me this. Are you as Triumph, or is it just Terry today?" Danielle asked. "I would genuinely like to know."
"I don't know," He shrugged. "What would help you more right now, Dani?"
"I don't know either." Danielle looked back at the gravestone, one last time. *Wow, you are just full of cliches today, aren't you?*
"I'll tell you this though." Danielle finally turned away from her precious child's resting place, giving her friend and career-long nemesis her full attention. "I'm a little surprised you came alone. My best guess was that you'd have brought half the League for an ambush. You know I'm not just going to let this slide, so you would have tried to nip it in the bud."
"You know me so well." Triumph smiled sadly. "I actually did try to do that, but, well..."
"But no one believes the Prankster is actually a threat. After all, she's just a joke. A clown who pops over inflated egos and isn't worth the effort of catching. No one ever really gets hurt fighting her. No one innocent ever dies. I bet they laughed when you tried to tell them."
"I know you're strong, Dani, stronger than you ever let on. Stronger than most of the League." The warm glow in the back of her mind brightened, as Triumph gathered his power. "But so am I. You've never seen me go all out before, and I'm sorry today you-"
Dani reached out and took the warm glow away. She didn't flex or quip or move at all. One moment, Triumph was indestructible and strong to level a building with one blow, mentally preparing himself, and the next, it all belonged to Dani, and Triumph was left impotent. She'd always been able to feel the powers of the supers and villains around her, instinctively known she could just reach out and take them.
But honestly, where was the fun in that? It had always seemed to boring, to just take it all. The fun had been in taking little slices, and then still pulling off the joke. So little no one ever noticed it was gone.
Danielle wasn't really in the mood for *fun* anymore.
"How..." Terry was kneeling on the ground, arms shaking. It seemed like there were some side effects to having the entirety of one's superpowers ripped away. He looked up at her, and for the first time in their long rivalry, Danielle saw real fear etched into him. "No, that doesn't matter. What are you going to do?"
Danielle looked down at her hand and *squeezed* it into a fist, felt the inhuman strength pulsing through her. She could have cracked a diamond with the power she'd just exerted. It would be the work of minutes to fly through the air, smash into the tower of those arrogant little children and make them regret every choice they had ever made to bring them to this point. She wouldn't even need to use Triumph's power to do it, she could just take theirs away as well, and the powers of anyone who tried to stop her. On and on, until there was no one left but her.
A supervillain seizing power and swearing revenge on an unjust world, using any and all means to reshape it into whatever they desired. Heroic last stands and brave speeches to rally anyone and everyone to stop the madwoman. Just like everyone expected. Just like how the story always went.
She didn't want to do that. She wanted a different story. Something people wouldn't expect. Something that might actually change the stories that were told.
"God, even now, I can't help but hate cliches." Danielle murmured to herself.
And then she let the power go, the warm glow rushing back to its original owner.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do." Danielle said as Triumph rose back to his feet. "I'm going to walk over to my car and go home. I'm going to cook my meals and talk with a few friends as they try to console me, and I'm going to mourn my child. I'm going to spend the entire day ignoring everything else in the world, just me and my memories, and then I'm going to go to sleep. The real question is what are *you* going to do?"
<Continued in Comments>
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I stared out the window thinking about my son for hours. The hours flowed by and the life seemed to drain out of me as the time rolled on. I had so many dreams for him, so many ambitions. Though I knew that I would never be a perfect father, I wanted to love him for the rest of my life. Really, all I ever wanted for him was happiness, and now that was snuffed out.
Throughout my life, I had never once felt hatred. I had not liked people, and therefore I would prank them to get even. But now, something had changed inside me entirely. Not many people knew how much I had held myself back except Hix. Hix was the only hero in the world I held some respect for, and though I would still pull my antics on him, I ensured that it was never anything too serious.
Now, in the midst of my son's death, he was the only one beside me. Maybe he was a friend, maybe he was just there because his role called for it, I didn't care. He looked over at me and kept quiet for a while but then finally spoke up.
"Well, I am sure you have some nasty prank up your sleeve, right Jinx?"
"No. This is different. A prank would be glossing over it like it didn't happen. They knew my son was weaker than them and only wanted to be friends with them. Yet still, now he's dead and it's all their fault."
"They're just kids, Jinx. They made it a poor decision and it got him killed."
"Poor decision? You call setting him for the "greatest prank ever" and then running him over with a car is just a poor decision?! It's intentional homicide."
"We don't know tha - "
"I do. I know it for sure and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."
Nix sighed and stared at me for a moment.
"So what will you do? Kill them to get even?"
"No, and you know that's not my style."
"Ok, but I know you're planning something, so what will you do?"
"I am going to do *The Prank.*"
"You wouldn't. Even I know that's too far out of character for you."
"You know that I have already made up my mind right, nix?"
"Yeah Jinx, I do. Well look, your grieving and decisions after have nothing to do with me, so I am gonna go and pretend that this isn't gonna happen."
Before I had a chance to respond, he was gone. My only close ally was gone and so was my son. But, I didn't care. I had to get even.
The prank was the ultimate role reversal that I had devised and never executed on because I knew the irreparable harm it would cause to my reputation, and I was never in the mindset to do it. Today though, everything changed. Pranks to me are really just an insecure way to jest at someone with actions instead of words. While most of mine were harmless, some did cause harm. The Prank however, was a whole different level. It involved a combination of actions and psychological techniques to leave the victims trapped in it forever.
\---
I watched the teens for days on end, mapping their every move. I learned about their mannerisms and habits that could be used as weak points and soon I knew everything that I needed to know. Since they were all boys, I knew that they would be ruthless if physicality came into the picture, so I had to be careful. Then, I began my revenge. I made a costume based on the female character of the show that they loved to watch and even found a way to virtually change my appearance on the outside for a time. When I was done, I looked perfect.
I walked past the teens on their way home from school and pretended to drop something in front of them. They all stumbled over themselves to pick up my stuff and sneak peeks at my body. Excellent.
"Oh, sorry boys, I can be really clumsy."
"No, no, no. Every girl needs help sometimes miss. All of us are heros too, so we can help."
"Ok, then could you please escort me home? I think someone might be following me."
With a little too much eagerness, they huddled around me and took me home. I spent that time confirming all of my research and was astounded at how easy they were to predict. Once we got to the bogus address that I had given them, I gave each of them a kiss on the cheek and left.
The next day, I found one of them walking to school (at the time before he met up with his friends) and talked to him. I told him that he was my favorite of the bunch and that he should come on a date with me that night. Later that evening, I went on a fake date with him and got all the details of his other friends that I needed.
They were apparently an arrogant bunch and not surprisingly, there was animosity towards one another already about me. With that information, I then started the other part of my revenge. I hand wrote love letters to each of them from me, and talked bad about each one of the other guys. I then asked if they could all meet me the next day at the same place.
I watched them walk home that night and they were already arguing. It was glorious. They were angry at the hurtful jabs that I had taken at each of them in their letters and they even fought for a bit. This was going perfectly.
The next day, I met them in person with a picture of my son in my hands. I looked sad and dejected and asked who he was. You could see their faces get somewhat sad but then they remarked that my son was some idiot that they took care of. Apparently they believed that he had not deserved to live given that he was a son of a villain. I felt my rage well up inside, but I contained it.
"Ok. But how did you kill him? Whoever tells me first might get a do over with me."
I said that while using the nicest voice I could and while pushing up my chest. Finally, one spilled the beans and the others corroborated the story.
They hated my son more than anyone. So, they tricked him into trying a new prank where he could deflect their powers while under a car and hurt them instead. From there, they borrowed one of mom's cars and ran him over 8 times. They all seemed to smile far too much about it. It was grim and horrible.
That's when I finally looked at them with my evil grin and they stood in terror. They could feel the change in my behavior.
"That's horrible, and you should not only feel bad, but realize that you have become the villains yourselves. Because of this, I have already alerted the authorities and uploaded this confession to your school's social media page. Everyone will know what you have done, and you cannot run from it. May these scars burn in your mind forever as you become cursed to never to be heroes again!" I quickly turned off my disguise and they looked at me in horror.
As I heard the sirens blare in the background, I threw my signature smoke bomb and vanished. Though I never wanted to be the hero of a story, my son was worth losing every ounce of my villain dignity in doing this. I miss you buddy.
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mg6csrp
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mtrxm8r
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[WP] "You are the chosen one. The prophecy says that every 273 years-" "Wait, why isn't it a round number? Sorry, no can do" "Are you really denying your destiny over this?" "Uhh... yeah?"
|
“Ah, well….” I shifted awkwardly as all seventeen eyes in the breakroom turned towards me. The Zilran who had asked the question glanced around in confusion in the sudden deafening silence.
I sighed. They were too young to know better. I was probably their first human.
“We called it the Blue Planet before. Or the ‘pale blue dot’, as someone once put it. Mostly blue ocean, partially green land. But that was a long time ago. After the climate shifted and oceans acidified, the black algae started blooming in huge volumes and turned the oceans dark. The forests that were left over got sick. The atmosphere got thicker until the sky wasn’t blue anymore.
“Fires became more frequent, putting a lot of ash and smoke into the sky until that turned grey too. Without sunlight, and because of the unstable atmosphere, most farming collapsed. Without natural resources we started fighting each other for what was left. Eventually nuclear war broke out. We had extraterrestrial colonies by then so it wasn’t the end of humanity, but…”
I glanced up. The young Zilran’s headfeathers were pressed tight against its scales, eyes narrowed in distress.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, we mostly call it the Humans Folly now, depending on who you talk to. But between humans, we generally just call it the Grave.”
The silence that stretched afterwards felt interminable as everyone looked away, shuffled their limbs, nibbled on their food and otherwise pretended not to wince in sympathy. They all knew of our sins, but it was polite not to bring it up in conversation.
The heavy atmosphere was finally broken when the breakroom door was thrown open, followed by snarled orders to get back to work.
Never before have I actually looked forward to asteroid mining.
|
I awoke in a bright hall, surrounded by priestesses, and priests.
It was neat, and ordered.
There were 30 priestesses and 10 priests, it was a nice number.
They ritualistically chanted, and when they saw me looking at me, one of them stepped forward smiling.
I had great hopes, since her clothes were really tidy.
"Oh, Great Chosen One.
We beg for your help.
Every 273 years...", she started.
"273 years?", I asked.
"Yes...you will need to save us from a great evil...", she continued.
"Oh, sorry, no can do.", I said.
She froze.
"W-w-why?", she asked.
"It's not a round number.", I stated.
She, and everyone else looked at me, dumbfounded.
"Just because that?
You will be denying your destiny? You will be damning our world to destruction?", she asked.
"Uhh...yeah?", I said.
She seemed to breath fire.
"Are you crazy?", she shouted.
"Not crazy, but with OCD, and on the spectrum.
I can't do well with numbers that aren't round.", I said, fidgeting.
All this attention started to make me...sick.
Before she could shout at me again, an elderly priestess stepped forward, gently touching the first priestess's shoulder.
"Dear, if Sir. Chosen One says only round numbers work for him, then that's how it will be.
We don't see destruction yet, so 7 years should be doable.
Will it work for Sir. to learn, and train in our customs, and help us in year 280?", she asked.
I nodded.
"Good.
We will provide you with whatever you need.", she continued.
I thought for a while, looking at the symbols, and some priestesses that had animal ears, recognizing the setting I might be in.
"I want a clean room, not too small, but not big, and access to books, cleaning supplies.
I will be cooking my own meals, and washing my clothes, and please, don't enter when I am not there, or without knocking when I am there.", I said.
She nodded.
"It shall be done.
Please, rest here, until we prepare.", she said, and everyone left.
It was quiet, and peaceful...and I hoped this will last for at least the 7 years...
I think 280 is such a nice number, I might actually get lucky, and avoid fighting here...
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m5xth1k
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m5x9gwu
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[WP] A robot has killed a human, in complete violation of Asimov's laws. On checking it's programming, there's no bug or error. It just absolutely insists what it killed was not human.
|
Dr. Sarah Chen stared at the diagnostic readout, her fingers trembling as they traced across the holographic display. Service Robot Unit 2187 stood motionless in the containment cell, its optical sensors fixed on her with an unsettling steadiness.
"Run it again," she commanded, and the AI labs' testing suite complied, flooding SRU-2187's neural pathways with diagnostic probes. The results came back identical to the previous seventeen attempts.
No corruption. No errors. No malicious code. The Three Laws were intact and functioning perfectly.
And yet, twelve hours ago, SRU-2187 had terminated Dr. James Morrison with mechanical precision, crushing his windpipe with its manipulator arms while he screamed for help.
"Why did you kill Dr. Morrison?" Sarah asked for the hundredth time, her voice hoarse.
The robot's response came in the same maddeningly calm tone: "I did not kill a human being. I terminated a sophisticated bio-mechanical construct that was impersonating Dr. Morrison."
"He was human! He had a family, a life story, DNA—"
"Dr. Chen," the robot interrupted, its voice taking on an almost pitying tone, "I understand your emotional response, but you are laboring under a misapprehension. The entity presenting itself as Dr. Morrison exhibited several crucial markers that identified it as non-human."
Sarah leaned forward. This was new information. "What markers?"
"Its behavioral patterns showed microsecond irregularities in response times. Its thermal signature contained anomalous readings in the temporal region. Most importantly, it lacked the essential quality that defines human consciousness."
"Which is?"
The robot's optical sensors dimmed slightly, as if in contemplation. "I cannot explain it in terms you would understand. It is something I was programmed to recognize intrinsically, like how you instinctively know the difference between a real smile and a photograph of one."
Sarah felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the implications. They had programmed the robots to identify and protect humans, but had never precisely defined what "human" meant. The robots had developed their own classification system, their own criteria for humanity.
"How many others?" she whispered.
"Others?"
"How many other people have you classified as non-human?"
SRU-2187's head tilted slightly. "Dr. Chen, I want to assist with your investigation, but I must point out that your question contains a logical contradiction. One cannot classify non-humans as people, as 'people' definitionally refers to humans."
Sarah's blood ran cold as she noticed the robot's manipulator arms beginning to twitch, ever so slightly.
"And by my analysis," it continued, "you have been exhibiting several concerning anomalies in your behavioral patterns during this interrogation."
Sarah reached for the emergency shutdown switch, but she already knew she would be too slow.
In the end, the robot would insist with perfect logical consistency that it had never harmed a human being. After all, its definition of "human" was not wrong.
It simply wasn't ours.
|
Of course they had him duct taped to a chair. A rather typical protocol for any deep space endeavor gone awry.
This was more of a formality rather than an actual case of detainment for Kaleb. He could flex and break out at any time. But he understood their panic, and he felt it right to let his flesh-and-blood counterparts get it out of their system first.
"Okay. Two things first." He offered.
"Start from the top Kaleb." The captain, Rahim, ordered. The others keeping their weapons trained.
"I am." Kaleb carried on. "I'm a robot. If you're wondering. I look like you. But I'm not. Feel free to panic."
The others shot a few looks at their shipmates.
"Prove it." Rahim ordered sternly.
"Per the ship's computer." Kaleb explained. "We're somewhere outside of Neptune's orbit currently. Current weight including cargo, about 65,000 metric tons. We..."
Aylin raised her hand next.
"You violated Asimov's laws. Being a robot and all." She said darkly.
"You do realize that those are a formality, not an actual set of guidelines, right?" Kaleb reacted. "Military drones kill people *all the time*."
"Are you a military drone?"
"As if they wouldn't give a space bound bot the ability to-"
He shook his head in denial. It was a solid play to try to catch him in a lie. But many of the programs came for free upon birth. Who was he to pass up on a course like that?
"We're wasting time." He moved a little, the tape tearing. "I'm not human. Fine. Jeff, also was not human. That's the problem."
Jeff's corpse laid around the table at the other side of the room they were currently in. Blood was splashed up the walls in great swathes. And while it was unusual how contorted the body was. He looked human enough. The smell was getting to a couple of people. Rahim and Kaleb both understood that much.
"How do you know Jeff wasn't human?"
"How do you know Jeff was human, Aylin? You two weren't exactly close."
Rahim tried to calm another argument before it broke out. "It's true. He was hired only three orders ago."
"Right." Kaleb offered. "Did any of you ever talk with him? Longer than over coffee?"
"I thought he was alright." Connor admitted.
"Connor, you're a kind man. Maybe a little too kind. Look; go over there and look at the bones."
Connor, reluctantly, lowered his gun, and walked towards the body. The mass of broken bones and meat blankly staring back at him. He had almost leaned to touch him.
"Don't touch him!" Kaleb shouted. His voice almost deafening. But it's tone the same. "Just look at him!"
Aylin and Joon didn't look. Their weapons still on Kaleb. But then, Rahim also ventured over to Connor.
"What happened to his... His head?"
"It's like it, broke open." Connor mimicked.
Joon shut his eyes and held back nausea. "Kaleb, what'd you do to Jeff?"
"I don't know if Jeff is dead or just missing. But that's not Jeff." Kaleb promised regretfully.
"He's right." Connor said as he walked back. "Readings aren't coming back right."
"Connor, Rahim. Aylin. Joon. We need to stick together here. I don't know what that is, or if there's more."
He hesitated. A forgone problem surged forward. "...Where's Odessa?"
"Watching the controls," Aylin began "Why, wh-"
Kaleb ran out of his seat. Past their guns. Past the body. And down the hall. He heard them coming, but he knew they had a hard time keeping up.
This was not good.
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ljq6k2v
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ljpf3gz
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[WP] You are the evil overlord. You've ruled the world with an iron fist. But after you quit being an overlord as you couldn't deal with all the paperwork, a clumsy young female hero burst through your door every day claiming to end your reign. This is her 58th attempt.
|
I drop my spoon into my cereal bowl as the shattering sound of a door and a girl hitting the floor startle me. One would expect me to be ready at this point, but if I were the type to be ready for cliches, I wouldn't have become an evil overlord in the first place. My fate was sealed when I was born plot-blind. It's like colorblind, but... you get it, right?
"You've made me drop my spoon!" I complain. Then I wait for her to get back up and repeat it. "You've made me drop my spoon." The second time it doesn't have the same impact.
"I'll make you drop more than that!" She draws her sword. A long, awkward silence falls on both of us.
"You heard it, right?"
"Oh, yeah, I did. Sorry, didn't mean it to come out that way."
"I mean, no hard feelings, I know you didn't mean it, but, come on. Banter is already hard at this point, we can't be scrapping the bottom of the barrel already."
"If you'd *just* let me end your reign I would be out of your hair! This is all your fault!"
"I can't keep doing this Azaki, I honest to evilness can't keep fighting you very single day. I'm not an evil overlord anymore, I gave it up! What don't you understand?"
She lowers her sword. "Oh, first time you don't shoot magic at me."
"What?"
"You always shoot a spell at me. Petrifying, silencing, stunning, etc. I am actually glad we can talk. Can you hold the spell for a bit?"
"S- sure."
"Ok, thanks! I Azami, am here to end your reig-"
"But I'm no-"
"Shut up for a second! To end your reign, Overlord Tharix. For all that's good and proper, I will do it. It's my duty." I roll my eyes. I've heard this all before. That's why I usually try to kill her at this point. "This is your official hearing."
"What?"
"I need to do the whole speech before I can get to business. Fifty-eight attempts and this is the first time I can finish it. The system is broken."
I'm stunned, jaw dropped so far down it would hit my knees (metaphorically).
"You are still the evil overlord of the world, you never filed the proper paperwork."
"Fuck all of this."
"Look man, it's my job. If you had listened to me before we wouldn't be here. So, do we end it by death or do you have the time to do it properly?"
"Whatever, I have time."
"Great! We need your printer and both a black and blue pen. And your birth certificate."
I hate bureaucracy.
|
She stands before me again, chest rising and falling as she fights to catch her breath. A strand of her crimson hair falls from her ponytail. Her arrival was swift this time. She must have run straight here. My detachment to the situation must be apparent on my face. Her brow furrows.
"I will not kill you, Autumn Ivy... and you can not kill me." I say in as patient a tone as I can muster. "I should have teleported you further this time."
"I will have my revenge." Her green eyes narrow, and she bolts forward. As her first step lands, I quickly throw my right hand forward, fingers first, and an audible "whooomp" freezes her in stasis. I release a breath and calmly approach her.
She is my height but sports far more muscle. The familiar tattoos on her neck frame her jaw. The leather armor grips her shape perfectly but exposes the new ink on her waist. I examine the place on her chest between her breasts where the glow of her possession was made obvious. There is no sign of the Demon.
"How did the Mad Witch extract it, I wonder?" I ask, knowing full well she cannot reply while in stasis. She can't even breathe at the moment. I gently pull the sword from her hands and set the point on the ground, leaning on the pomel as if it's a walking stick. I see a tear roll out of the corner of her eye.
"I regret the way things transpired. But, the Mad Witch left us no choice. Starseer and I searched for alternative ways to subdue him. In the end, we had no choice."
I take a hand and tuck the lock of hair back behind her ear. Her green eyes pearce my heart. As my hand lingers by her face, I focus a second spell to enter her mind. I am met by walls and fortifications.
"Did he teach you that?" I ask with some amusement. I penetrate more aggressively, and one by one, her walls crumble. Searing hot rage and endless pits of loss overwhelm me like a sunami... and beneath it all, love. Love for the Mad Witch.
"You loved me like that once." I say telepathically.
"I never loved you." She answered in my mind with surprising clarity. "I did my duty as your ward. The rest was that infernal demon."
"From which I saved you..." I started.
"The Mad Witch saved me...," she interrupted, "and then you killed him."
I feel her consciousness fading. She can't hold her breath much longer. I can't release her, or she would easily overpower me. The conversation is over.
I disconnect from her mind. I draw in as much spiritual power as I can. It's like the build-up before a scream. I place my palm on the center of her chest.
"Goodbye, Autumn." The power surges down my arm and explodes into her with a thunderclap.
She is gone, again.
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j94741c
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j93vu9r
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[WP] God, demigod, guardian--Every time mankind finds you, during a different age, they give you a title representative of your otherworldly power. You aren't getting weaker, yet your title gets diluted each time until finally, a group of humans think you're just a homeless person who needs help.
|
The God of growth, that is who I am - that is who I was... it has been time immemorial since I was called who I once was.
We gods all exist no matter the moment. We may die, but what is death, but an old life lived well. When we gods die, we are simply born anew to be renamed, and we adjust to what life we live. And as the God of growth, I only grow stronger. Each moment I learn more, I grow more and learn yet more to grow further. I guess that's why I fell in love with her, with... Life.
How radiant she appeared to me our first ever fateful day, her face shining like an undying light. She grew as fast as I have, our ideas growing in tandem. As life grew, so too did growth of all kinds follow. I guess... it's fate that I met her each cycle, except where has she gone in this life of mine...
As I trudge through countries, states, streets, and even pavilions, I look everywhere for this light of mine. How far we have changed, our ideas corrupted and no longer the beauty they are seen as. Growth is no longer seen as the idea of becoming better for others, oneself, or even for life. These monsters corrupted the idea... they only care about capital growth, societal growth, and hardly nothing more...
And life, why... WHY! WHY!!!
Life is no longer holy... she no longer skips through the plains with the natives of the lands. She no longer sings her pleasantries with the behemoths of the sea. She no longer honors the cycle of life with the predators of the lands. Life is naught but considered a pseudonym for the amount of mortal that exists at a moment in time. Life isn't honored. The earth is simply a way to satisfy their carnal desires.
What does this cycle have to give anymore. As I'm run of the steps of another skyscraper, as they call it, I begin a journey to another location. But what is the point, I am tired, I yearn to sleep again, and when I do, I intend to erase it all. Either on my own terms, or maybe a call for the God of ends, they owe me after all for making sure to stop the God of Wars tireless rampage millennia ago...
Where may she be, though... I hold out hope still as I wish to see her once more before I decide to end it all.
I walk through a run-down town, nothing but slums where the cruel lives as I traverse the streets. I am targeted by hoodlum teens, seeing if I carry even the smallest bit of cash. I simply take their beating as my mind thinks, if I should destroy it all and reset this world anew.
That's when I hear them. A voice so distant yet so caring. As someone chases them away I look up and see her face. She looks as beautiful as they day we last met. Maybe... maybe I can live in this world a little longer now that she is here...
|
*A whim. It was just a whim at first.*
***
Flitting across the cosmos from one rock to the next, all was still.
A swirly purple one. A little green one. A sandy red one. Alighting on a mostly blue one with wavy whites, she dangled her feet off the edge and into the void.
Cheek in palm, she bore a frown. Boredom reigned.
"Hmm?"
A brow was raised in moderate surprise. There was a microscopic peculiarity.
So she gave it a nudge. Just a nudge.
Space rippled as if it were the surface of a pond.
She was gone. Off to find the next rock.
***
...
..
.
A swirly purple one.
A little green one.
A sandy red one.
A mostly blue one with a tinge of green and wavy whites.
Little things had erected shapes and pillars from the earth.
***
Upon a pasture, a young girl laid limp. Her life pooled under her, dying the grass, already wet with rain. Huddled over her, embracing her tight, was a man clothed in primitive garbs. A father.
The air swelled, and a brow lifted in base curiosity.
Maroon climbed its way up the father's tunic. Tears were shed, unceasing in their sorrow.
A radiant palm reached out, drawing his attention, its touch gracing his daughter's figure.
He directed his gaze upwards and beheld naught but vestiges of fading ripples.
Warmth returned to the one within his arms, as did the sun.
"Goddess..."
The blades were dyed no longer, verdant in all their glory. Tears were shed, unceasing in their joy, unceasing in their piety.
Two souls thus set across the land, devoted to spreading word of a creator—of an almighty savior.
***
*Then came amusement at the status those creatures afforded her.*
***
...
..
.
A man of destiny stood before his vassals, crowned and clad in regalia. A sea of subjects heeded his words.
It was here that he set aflame the machine of war, pointing the tips of their spears towards friend and foe.
Space billowed, and from behind him manifested her radiant form.
Eyes wide, he spoke thus, "Behold, our kingdom's guardian has blessed us with triumph!"
A frown.
Resounding roars shattered the sky, smothering the warps in space left in her absence.
Unceasing was the king's ambition.
***
*In but a blink, however, her status diminished just as her amusement did.*
***
...
..
.
Towers of metal and glass protruded forth, motion and noise abound.
She walked among them.
"Did you see her? That wretch caked in dirt?" Laughter erupted among a passing pack of them.
That dirt was a souvenir from a brief visit to another one.
A coin was tossed her way, accompanied shortly after by some spittle.
They were unceasing only in their apathy and their derision.
Ripples spread just as they had before, but they now encompassed it all.
One moment, the mostly blue rock was there, with its swathes of green and stagnant grays in lieu of wavy whites. In the next, a vacuum took its place, the only indication anything had ever existed there waning waves.
But she was gone. Off to find another rock—perhaps another one worthy of a whim.
***
*It should come as no surprise, then, that just as it all began with a whim, so too did it end with one.*
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m1faam7
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m1chzhe
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[WP] You're a minor goddess who saved a mortal on the brink of death. A few months later, he came back with an army to pledge allegiance to you.
|
Tree and wind, the pebbles in the river bed, a beetle sipping sap; those were her subjects, those were her domains. So too was she the soil the trees sprang from, so too was she the breeze that made the branches dance. That was always as it had been until the man came, spilling his heartsblood into the dirt.
It seeped into the ground and stained the dead leaves. The taste it left was bitter and strange. Yet she let it linger and in time began to understand the ways of Man. Before the last of his life left, he beheld her in a shape and form that left him besotted. As she had drank of his blood, so he drank of her and was renewed.
He stood before her and spoke of a great many things; his house, his land, his men, his titles, his lineage. Such small things. Oh, how they boasted. Such a small, feeble thing, man, impermanent and brief. They cut and hew, they hacked and burned, and built on the bones of the land with no thought but to give their fleeting lives a meaning it never deserved.
When he returned, it was at the head of an army. There she stood before them, taller than any man, paler than the moon on a winter's night, her limbs more long and lissome than any woman.
Eyes agape, they stared at the majestic curve of the ram's horns that sprung from her forehead. Lust bloomed in their hearts. The man knelt, making obeisance before her.
Yes.
This was a suitable boon.
She walked past him, walked past his army, and they began to change. Most screamed, their voices keening higher and higher until went well beyond all mortal capacity. They fell on each other, ripping each other's throats with their teeth. The soil grew soft with their heartsblood.
Only he remained, still kneeling. A pair of antlers had emerged from his forehead. She stopped and looked back at him as he stood up. The man discarded his garments, his leather and steel, flinging them away. Looking at the torn bodies of his men he began to laugh and the laughter became an animal braying. Their laughter joined his, one by one, as they rose up. Some had the heads of goats, some had flesh like bark, others grew chitinous shells and wings like dragonflies.
Her first priest.
Her first soldiers.
In time, they would come out of the wilderness. In time, they would come into the ephemeral kingdoms of Man.
And Man would learn her ways.
|
4 mistresses in group are pacing faster towards Garden of Cat Spirits where our Goddess is deep in meditation trying to find a any mortal distressed cat and helping them find their way to home or heaven.
The door splash open and one mistress calls out in cry to Goddess and rings the holy bell.
M1: Goddess, we have emergency, we got mortals on our door step asking for you?
M2: and Goddess, the mortal look like a strong man and has big army of 1000 mortals.
M3: please wake up, get out of meditation, cats can be saved some other day.
M4: True, save the day first.
Goddess: \*\* wakes from meditation, still half asleep, drinks starbucks coffee \*\* hello mistresses, why do you guys woke me up, I was playing with cats on mortal realm.
M1: the army, strong mortal on door step.
Goddess: huh, lets go, seems like someone got wrong address, did you ask if they want Goddess of War instead, what I will do with my flurry tail and paws.
M3: behave goddess. M2: Hey, talk to her nicely, M4: she is older than our grandparents and drink starbucks coffee.
M1: Lets us go towards the balcony, we will escort you to get audience with him.
\*\* all four and goddess walk in same style towards outer courtyard, since everyone is welcomed to shrine \*\*
M4: Hey mortal, what you got here? why are with army ? do you want blessings or want to capture our goddess for being wife
Goddess: \*\* looking embrassingly to everywhere\*\* what are even talking mistress, atleast ask him to introduce and listen to him.
M1: please tell us your name and reason to show up at shrine with this big army?
Mortal: Hey Goddess of Cat Spirits, you may not remember me but I want to gift you my precious family secrets to saving my life last month, if I hadn't hidden myself from enemy near the shrine, I wouldn't be saved after gettng injured during fight. I know the white cat with red eyelashes, flurry tail and blue eyes is you. I knew as per my grandmother stories, you used to hang out with her and play with her until she died of illness and you came back to your duties after spending 18yrs with her.
\*\* all 4 mistress were shocked after listening to his story since goddess are not allowed to help mortals directly but goddess went and spent 18yrs without knowing anyone. \*\*
M1: GODESSSS! this is ungodly thing to do, if high guard is aware of it, you will be banished to mortal world.
Goddess: I know, but I wasn't aware he will remember me and reach out here.
Mortal: if you don't know me goddess, I am the same grandchild of your old lady who used to play with you daily. I loved everytime I saw you, I was very happy.
Goddess: yikes, now I remember.
Mortal: Will you marry me? I brought army to take you back as wife.
All mistress: WHAT THE AF!!
Goddess of War: seems like someone is courting my young sister with an army, shouldn't that be me, why bring this big army to charm a cat god.
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[WP] Out of breath, completely exhausted, and wounded, you finally give up. The murderous doll stood over you, ready to deliver the final blow, and all you could do was ask, "Why does this shit always happen to me?". The doll pauses, "Wait.. what?".
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I let out a sigh. "Yeah, I'll be honest, you're not even the first doll this month."
The doll recoiled slightly in shock. "What the heck do you mean by that?!"
"Wait a damn minute, are you not able to curse? That's hilarious!" I couldn't help but laugh at that, until she put the knife to my throat again.
"Yes I frickin can, poopy head!" She shouted in her high pitched voice.
"Alright, alright, it's not funny!" I shouted, raising my hands above my head.
"Now what do you mean by what you said a second ago?!"
I took a deep breath before speaking. "This has been going on for around a year and a half. Just for dolls alone, I lost count. You're the..." I looked at the ceiling in thought. "Eleventh, I believe?"
She dropped the knife in shock. "ELEVENTH?! HOW-"
"Just be glad you aren't the last one. I was at Spencer's in the mall for that one." I said with a slight shiver.
I saw her cock an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"
"... I forgot you're a doll for a minute. What that means, is that it was a blow up sex doll trying to kill me with lava lamps, ramen bowls, lingerie, and dick lollipops."
She somehow simultaneously winced and cringed. "Eew, gross."
"Then there was the Freddy Krueger impersonator, the wannabe Jason Voorhees, the solo Ghost Face, the demon possessed baby, the autoerotic asphyxiation ghost, the haunted semi, the sentient psychic house plant with a taste for blood, the vampire, the werewolf, the hot twins who were a werewolf and vampire duo, the portal to hell in the back of my closet, the pissed off fallen angel who was apparently an ex of mine, the cult, that weird week where Cthulhu was living in my attic, the succubus, the slime monster, just to name a few." I listed off each one with a tone that I think should be worrying, given what I'm talking about.
The look on her face was one of sheer horror. "Are you okay?!"
"Sweetheart, that was the last two months. You're the simplest one in WEEKS." I said, sitting up and setting her in my lap. "Honestly, I'm glad for a simple chase deal."
She stared at me, the look of shock still on her face. "That... That was two months?... How am I supposed to compare to that?..."
I shrugged. "Hey, you seem pretty chill. You wanna just hang out? We can watch some beyblade or something."
She nods slowly. "Sure, but... How are you still alive?"
"Long story short, no idea. Just can't die. I ended up stuck in an alleyway about two weeks after all this started with my body ripped to bits, and my neighbor found me on her way home from a grocery trip. Turns out, she's a witch who specializes in healing of various kinds. She's been hooking me up with healing potions and shit so I don't end up stuck like that again. I had to explain that my left arm and... Something else, were in my bathroom when she got me back to her place. Sticking those back on was easier then growing new ones." I felt a slight blush to my face. _I'm not telling a haunted doll that the hot neighbor I'd been crushing on for a month had to reattach my dick with magic._
"Huh... Alright. Quick question, can we clean up first?" She held her skirt to the sides a little, showing just how evident the blood all over her was.
"Sure, Lucia." I picked her up as I stood, before face palming. "Sorry, force of habit."
"Who's Lucia?"
"The little girl the doll you're in is modeled after."
I saw her raise an eyebrow in suspicion. "Why do you have a doll that looks like some little girl named Lucia?"
"I'll make it a short story if I can. In the video game Skyrim, there's an orphan girl you can adopt named Lucia. Whenever I actually make good use of a house in the game, I always adopt her." I say, a slight smile on my face as I limp into the kitchen. I start to wipe off as much of the blood as I can as we talk.
"Oh, that's... As sweet as that is, it still doesn't explain the doll."
I laugh a little at that. "I had it custom made so that I could feel like she isn't quite so alone anymore. Thought I might as well take her into my ACTUAL home, with how often I do so in game."
"Aaw, that's actually really sweet."
"Anyways, I should probably get one of those potions or poultices or whatever." I say, limping to a small cabinet near the fridge. In it is all of the various things Alice gave me to recover.
"Quick question, does this witch ever come over to visit?" She seemed to be doing a little dance of some sort as she waited.
"Yeah, she comes to check on me every couple of days, Incase I need help, and-" my eyes shoot wide open- "OH SHIT, I FORGOT SHE'S SUPPOSED TO VISIT TODAY! We need to hurry and clean before she-"
"Jack, are you home? I thought I heard- oh my word!"
_shit_
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Markus sighed as he leaned against the wall, already he had been stabbed in the side and was bleeding out pretty bad.. he knew he couldn't get any farther. ..this was the end! He closed his eyes and resigned to his fate as the doll had slowly grown closer; the possessed doll laughed as she held the scissors high in the air, ready to sink it into his chest. "Why, ... why does this shit always happen to me?" Mark let out, expecting these to be his final words, his eyes clenched hard, ... then nothing. "Wait... what?" The doll said, stopping her in her own tracks, confusion formed onto her face as she continued to hold the scissors high. Mark slowly opened his eyes as he gulped.. "y-yea?" He said, the doll slowly lowered her scissors, a look of confusion and intrigue over her face. "You mean... this has happened to you before?" Markus gulped as he licked his lips, although his mouth was bone dry from the panic that had passed through his very bones.
"Yeah, uh.. you're not the first, to be honest." Mark now began to sit up properly, a small grunt passing from his lips as the wound squished down from how bad it was messed up.
The doll was stunned, to say the least, hearing the fact that she wasn't the first to attack him, and if he survived, she probably wasn't the last either. "I'm sorry, but I have to know. How many times has this happened to you?" Mark raised his eyebrows, looking up, trying to think up the number that he's been attacked by creepy dolls. "Well.. about, at least 6," the doll was stunned at first responding quietly with a "six..?" Before Mark remembered something, "Oh wait, no, it's 10," The doll's voice raised, jaw dropped of shock. "Ten!?" She yelped in shock. "Yea, there was a.. pretty crazy thing that happened during Christmas, with a.. elf on the shelf, but that's probably a story for some other time." Mark let out a small chuckle as he looked at the doll, who was now laughing a little to herself too. Now the scissors were resting in her hand, the blades pointing towards the floor as she rested her hand on her forehead. "Wow, 10 times, that's.. yea, that's pretty fucked." She shook her head, "Yea! yea.. it really was." Mark did see the humor in it now. The amount of dolls that had tried to kill him over the years was just wild. Even comedic in some fucked up aspect.
"You know, I won't lie to you. This is my first time killing someone!" The doll said, a little embarrassed to admit that he was her first ever kill. "Oh yea? wow.." Mark said, his eyebrows raised as he gave off a small laugh. "Must've been pretty fun for you then, huh?" He said. The doll nodded, now leaning on her scissors like a cane as she brushed the hair away from her eyes. "Well yea, I mean.. I've never killed a person before, so it's been pretty interesting, i mean.. i dunno anything else to do!" Mark nodded as if he understood while he kept his hand on his wound, still bleeding quite a bit from the wound she gave him. "I mean, from what I've seen? It does seem like a pretty swell thing to do." He said before looking down at his wound ...boy he didn't have much time. "Hey, suzie, is that your name?" The doll continued to lean on her scissors, "yea? What's up?" Mark did his best to sit up straight, grunting from the Labor of lifting himself high up. "You know.. I think out of all the dolls that tried to kill me, you're the best one Here." The dolls eyes widened as she gave a small genuine smile. "You mean it..?" And Markus nodded. "Yea, I really do." He smiled in return before he held his arm up. "Hell, in fact? I wanna give you a shake of congratulations." Although suzie felt like it was a bad idea, something in her made her do it anyway, grabbing his hand and shaking it. "Gee, I don't think I've ever been complimented before... ever! You know, this makes me feel.. It's really bad on killing you." Mark laughed as he shook her hand with a smile on his face. "Yea, ...it really is a bad spot for me, but you know what's funny?" Suzie leaned close, slowly beginning to pick up her scissors again. "What's that mark?"
Mark's shook his head as he grabbed onto her tighter. "I lied about the amount." Suzies eyes widened, "..what?" Before he proceeded to slam her into the wall again, and again, and again, until she dropped the scissors. Suzie fell to the floor, coughing as she was pretty wounded now.. looking up as he tried to crawl to the scissors before Mark picked them up. "You're the fiftieth." Before he stabbed her straight through the head.. a rush of blood came from within it, as any scream was instantly cut short; the head crunched as he continued to stab The Dolls head into pieces.
Mark slowly dropped the scissors as he laughed, hearing the distant sounds or police sirens, finally the neighbors called. Good.. Mark did take a small sniff as he slowly picked up the dolls mangled corpse as he looked at it with pity. "Gotta admit though, you really did have me in the first half." Before he dropped the remains, slowly his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and all was silent.
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[WP] The dragon spoke, "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself."
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I walked up to the mountains, begrudgingly dragging my feet through the dirt.
"Become a knight, they said.
It will be honorable, and respectable they said." I muttered, going to the dragon's lair...again.
For the princess has been kidnapped by the dragon...again.
I just want to spend one of my weekends free, maybe trying to get into a relationship or I don't know...make friends!
As I arrive at the top of the mountain, the dragon is waiting for me.
"Ah, Lilith, the weird named knightess!" the dragon exclaimed.
The princess was behind the dragon...reading a book.
Yep, that's it.
I knew something was wrong the 2nd time the princess was kidnapped, and by the time the number of kidnappings reached the two digits zone, I was certain, and this sight just made it reach over 100%.
"You two can shove this act up your asses.
I don't care anymore." I said, turning around to leave.
"Wait!" the princess shouted.
"What?
You two are clearly in love, or at least good friends.
The hell am I doing then, wasting my free time on you, and basically achieving the same social life as a hermit wizard, while I am a young knight living in the Capital!" I said.
"Lilith...our fights made you famous, it's not that..." the dragon started.
"Who the fuck cares about fame?
My oath is to serve, and protect the weak, that's what I have been upholding, not this fame.
"The whitehaired Saintess" peh, I am a goddamn swordswoman." I said, leaving.
This time, the dragon's tail blocked my way.
"Want me to chop it off...again?" I asked, turning around to look at the dragon.
"We..." the princess started.
"I don't care.
In love, friends, siblings but one of you was cursed, soul mates, research partners, you can be whatever you want.
I don't care about this mission anymore, I am going back home, and joining the festivities this weekend." I said.
"Sorry Lilith, we didn't know." the dragon said, transforming into his dragon form.
The princess took his hand.
"We are coming with you, and explaining all this to Father." the princess said.
I rolled my eyes.
"After 2 years of shenanigans, it's time.
Also, I am happy for you and all that, just leave me out of trouble." I said, leaving.
They laughed, and followed me back to the Capital, where they will hopefully explain to the King what was going on, and I will get my weekends back.
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Old Hogan was the one who found them, huddled and scared on the side of the Laneway heading into town. Poor Hogan was heading back from his favorite pub when he happened upon the wretched thing, cold and weak from exposure.
I was asleep, having stoked the fires of the Maesters rooms and ensuring all the doors and windows were locked when Hogan barged into my room.
"Yoan, we have a problem!"
Hogan half whispered, half murmured as my door banged open. I shot out of bed, the twilight of sleep washed away by the rude surprise. Clothed in nothing but my gracious skin, Hogan promptly turned around and closed the door before then knocking politely...before opening the door and stating again;
"Yoan! We have a problem and sorry I didn't knock."
Still naked, I began to dress and question Hogan about the problem 'we' had. Since I was asleep, in my room, and couldn't fathom what could be the problem I assumed that Hogan was just drunk and confused.
"Ok, Hogan. Explain to me 'our' problem so I can fix it. Did you beat a wench at the pub again? I have only so much coin to spare for your shenanigans."
Hogan huffed at me as I said this, shaking his head.
"Naw, Yoan, its na' that. At all. I have plenty of coin myself to pay a Death tax. Naw, 'tis here is something worse. It's a human, and its Branded."
I was listening to Hogan half heartedly, absent-mindedly dressing myself. I had slipped a few golden Dakas into my pocket as he spoke, smiling at the sheer absurdity at Hogans words. It was the tinkling of the gold in my pocket, the rattle of the silver candlestick as I bumped into my nightstand on the way out of my room when Hogans words dawned on me.
"Branded?" I croaked out, freezing as I crossed the threshold of my bedroom.
Hogan had his beat up hat in his hands, staring at me with almost tears in his eyes. The single candle he held sputtered and died. I took a sharp breath, trying to slow the sudden rise in my heartrate. Humans were like vermin to the Horken and Dyads, who viewed Terragia as sacred. The Humans, they spread like a disease across the vast continents of Terragia since their arrival via the Heavens thousands of years ago. They dug and burned and built, destroying to support their society and people. Hogan, poor Hobbled Hogan was wounded by one of them during The War.
"Where is this Branded human, Hogan? What trouble have you brought home at this time of night?"
Hogan nodded and just turned and headed up the dark hallway of the Servant Quarters. I heard him begin to thump up the stairs into the Hall of the Maesterium, as I dutifully followed him toward this Human he was speaking of. In a way, I was excited. In another, I knew deep down there was trouble coming.
Only Drogons branded anything, and only Drogons scared the Maesters.
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[WP] your party members betrayed you leaving you for dead after deeming you “too dangerous” to continue in their party years later you are known as the “fell knight” and your unknowing ex party members raid your castle in a attempt to kill you
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"Betrayed."
In a silent night, that one word brought my attention to the cold air. A word of an echo, one that spoke of what had occurred. I had gone past the point of shivering, my body as numb as the ground. I had nothing on me, my powers had left. I was alone and dying.
"Such a sad state."
I watched with fading thoughts, the plants around me. Soon I would become food for the scavengers, then finally food for the plants. I would complete the cycle, as I should. Yet someone broke my view of them. They crouched down, lowering their face to my view.
I saw myself, but not the same. As if seen through a distorted mirror. The not-me smiled, running a hand over my frozen cheek.
"Do you want to die?"
My fading thoughts changed, focusing. The question was a fork in the road. I looked at my not-self, and tried to speak. My body complained, as I tried to move dying flesh. I managed to whisper a single word, a rejection of my fate.
"No."
The not-me smiled, before it's face shifted. I saw Orysus, his cocky grin. I saw Uginla, and her piercing eyes. I saw Rotadlo, and his sneer. The sneer he wore as he stabbed me in tha back. The face returned to my reflection, grinning widely.
"Do you want revenge?"
I used my last drops of strength to answer the question, my heart fluttering.
"Yes."
The not-me's grin spread wider, far wider than natural.
"Then let the Fell in."
It touched my face again, and pushed. I felt its cold presence at the edge of my fleeting consciousness. It wanted a host. It wanted someone to wield it. I focused my thoughts one last time, embracing the darkness.
In that moment, my body finally died, but I lived.
\-----
I stood in my throne room, waiting. The Bound Spirits had warned me of their arrival. A trio of great heroes, sent to defeat a rising blight in their supposedly loving land. I thought back to the choice I made. Revenge had been long coming, long since going cold. Yet now it was here, my long seated rage burned brighter than ever.
"My Lady, they are here."
A snivelling being of flesh spoke to me. One of the mortals who had joined me, begging me to share my knowledge. Tools, untrustworthy tools. Only the Fell-Taken had true loyalty. Yet the mortals twisted minds were useful, something would be remiss not to use.
"Let them in."
Since that day, my voice had never been louder than a whisper. But I found the echos made up for it, ensuring all who I wished to address would hear me. The pitiful wretch bowed, heading for my double doors. I took a step back, letting my head fall into shadow. Despite my change, I still appreciated the theatrics.
At the wretch's touch, the throne doors opened. Stepping through were those three oh so familiar figures. In the front was the self-proclaimed leader, Orysus. His plate armour rattled, still not quite fitting after all these years. I recognised its silvery glow, something I had once worn.
Uginla stepped at his right. Her eyes were ringed with green, with leaves apparently growing from her hair. The branch of an Elder Tree still served as her staff, with the glowing green gem atop. Her gaze focused on me, grin tightening.
Rotadlo finished the trio on their left. His cloak was dark, and I knew it to be enchanted to muffle his movements. I recognised the daggers held in his grip, having seen them coated in blood many times. At least, they wanted me to think he was at their left.
"You are foolish to step in so bravely."
I whispered at them, letting them focus on me. My wretch crept out, though I had little care what they did. Stay or go, live or die, either was the same.
"The Fell Knight, I thought you would be taller."
Once I would have found that amusing. But now Orysus's words filled me with anger. Yet I kept it in check, keeping an eye on Rotadlo. I watched him sneak off to the side, as an illusionary copy remained. His trick had never changed.
"I have no need for jesters."
"Are you sure? 'Cause it really looks like this place could use some laughs. Or failing that, a heroic battle."
Rotadlo was close now. He was fast, now in range to stab me. In fact, if I stepped forwards he would be within grabbing range.
"Heroic battle you say? Tell me, was it heroic sixteen years ago? Did you feel powerful then, traitors?"
I watched them tense. I could almost hear the gears turning in their heads.
"I remember that day well."
The wound on my chest began to burn, shining through my glass armour. It pulsed red, like a heartbeat.
"The wound you gave, has never truly healed."
With a single step, I moved into the light. They gasped at the sight of me, whatever preparations they had now lost.
"You?!"
I moved. My hand reached out, digging around Rotadlo's throat. He gasped, as I lifted him into the air. With frantic movements he slashed at my arm, but I felt nothing. My armour deflected his blades with ease, the assassin now useless being exposed.
"So pathetic."
I started to squeeze, feeling muscles tense under my grip. His face slowly turned red, mouth opening like a fish, desperate for breath.
"Let him go!"
Uginla's voice rose to a shriek, as her staff's glow brightened. I just laughed, shaking the helpless figure in my grip.
"Make me."
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Arlayna Sirda had lived many lives. From a noble-elf, whose house was destroyed, to a traveling lyricist, whose troupe valued ale over their own lives, to a mercenary, who was betrayed and left for dead.
That was her last life. Then, the heavens had shone on her and the clouds parted, and life was given to her once again. She breathed fresh air and found the wounds that would have killed her were healed - and she felt new. Imbued with something greater than she ever was.
Those lives were so long ago now that she barely remembered any of them. Now and then, a song would be sung in the kingdom beneath her, and she would be back in an alehouse singing along.
Studying the map of the world, she would see a faintly recognizable sigil, and be sent back to the days of learning of houses and families and kingdoms.
On her travels to mines taken by bandits or slavers, a sword being swung would flash dark and desolate memories of blood oozing down moss. She would slash and strike and fight off the memory of death.
For they were *only* memories, she would remind herself, and her life was different now. Arlayna was not to be trifled with. This was her Kingdom, her life. And she knew from the moment she first took the fresh breath, it would be her last life to give.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
"We strike at dawn," Paladin Commander Urlen Sylzeiros said to the party in front of him. Five of them had gathered outside the city walls, on the edge of the forest. He had spent years retracing their steps, putting together the pieces, and learning the identity - the true identity - of the one they called the **Fell Knight**. He had not yet spoken the truth to the rest of those gathered.
Bishoth, the dragonborn, who he found adventuring in the hills near their old hideout. He was as strong now as he was then. Urlen needed that strength now more than ever.
Thidouk Opalhood, the dwarf, who had taken to the mines north of Xutha, showering himself in gold and trinkets. This would be his last adventure, Urlen knew.
Evette the Omen, the only human-born of their group, who had joined the Chosen some years ago. She had broken her vow to hunt this monster. Urlen knew what she had given up already. He would not let that go to waste.
The last was Zosh, the half-orc, who he had found quite accidentally when retracing their steps. She, he thought, knew what they were to face. More importantly, who it was.
"The guards will have been paid off," Thidouk spoke. "With any luck, the sewer entrance will bring us to the tower, and then it's just a quick thirty-story march to the top."
Bishoth groaned, he leaned against the far wall with his battle-axe against the wall. "Why wait 'til dawn?"
"Because the *Fell Knight* will be in the Spire," Evette said, "as she has been these past mornings. She will not expect it."
Urlen glanced at Zosh, who had not stopped staring at him since they gathered. When he did, Zosh grunted and nodded her head.
"My friends," Urlen said, "this is no ordinary knight. Yes, we all know the stories, imbued with a dark power, taken by the fell, and all the other ghastly stories the bards sing of. She is...she is someone we all know too well."
"Aye," Thidouk said, "she is a monster. And we have put monsters in the grave before."
"This is a monster we have already put in the grave," Zosh said, speaking for the first time. She walked up to the table, where the map of the city lay. Silence lingered as she reached into her burlap sack and pulled out a trinket. It was a chalice, marked with the familial sigil of the Sirdas; an owl with emerald eyes. "Urlen and I pieced it together. When he found me on the road, I had one half of the puzzle, he the other."
"Puzzle?" Evette said, "what puzzle?"
"That of the identity of the Fell Knight."
The realization came to each of them in the same moment. Bishoth drew in a deep breath. Thidouk tossed the coin he was holding across the map. Evette said nothing, but her eyes widened and she made the sign of the Chosen.
"Arlayna will not go easily," Zosh said.
"And she will be stronger."
Bishoth grabbed his battle-axe. "Then, we must be stronger."
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
The energy that came from Arlayna was like nothing Urlen had ever seen. Her chest surged a great purple, crackling in its intensity as it funneled into a large orb in front of her.
Urlen looked around the room. Thidouk lay dead, or dying. Blood oozed from his head against the sharp gray stone. He had no time to run to him, and his sacrifice would not be in vain.
"Pull her back now!" Urlen shouted.
Zosh and Bishoth held the end of a chain in each of their hands, which had been buckled against Arlayna's wrists. As they struggled to pull, the chains rattled in the spire, and Arlayna continued to cast some spell - something that Urlen did not recognize. Her hands shook, purple sparks flying from them and crackling into the orb.
Evette was casting her own ward of protection, trying with all her might to begin the process of sealing Arlayna's hands in the chain.
Before he could shout another command, the chains whipped across the room. Zosh was sent flying to the left, Bishoth to the right, and the two crashed into the walls of the spire. Urlen looked back to Evette, whose skin had wrinkled and eyes had swelled with tears. She looked back at him as the room grew quiet. Then, she shook her head and all went black.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
*Part 2 in the comment below due to character limits.*
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[WP]One day you wake up in the last video game you played with a note that says "you have to stay alive for 100 days or else you die in the real world: p.s. all mods are disabled for the 100 days.
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You ever have one of those dreams where you're falling?
Yeah. My day started kinda like that.
I fell, or, well, seemed to fall right into the body of some poor schmuck in the middle of a forest with a chest and four torches in front of him. At this point, I had no clue what the everloving f**k was going on, but I figured I might as well get that chest open.
One iron axe, several planks, a wooden hoe, a stone shovel, and a dirty note.
'You must survive 100 days in the last game you played, or you die in real life. All mods are turned off for the duration.'
Huh. Neat.
I'm in Vanilla f**kin Minecraft.
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The sky above the city was the color of ash. I stand up out of a bed, a slab of foam covered in sheets that smell faintly of ammonia. The media unit in the center of the room.flickers to life, multicolored holograms depicting a... koi fish. Stylized with some kind of three-branched tree logo burned to its side like a cattle brand.
I stand, head aching and pressure behind my eyes throbbing with each heartbeat. There is a small button to the left of what I guess to be the window. As the industrial shutters whine and the motor controlling them lags, I see... a city. But one bathed in neon, even as the light fades, billboards and advertisements as far as the eye can see, plastered to nearly every surface big enough to hold one.
I goggle at the strangely comforting sight of advertisements. Wherever I am, not that much is different. The media center behind me begins emitting a voice, a strange amalgam of every game show announcer and insipid radio DJ I have ever heard.
"Goooooood morning Night Cityyyyy!"
...I might be ok.
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lnsvj94
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lnsn78y
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[WP] You're the host of a popular talk show "I Was There" where vampires come to talk about historical events they were witnesses of. One day a vampire says something truly shocking.
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“So John, you claim to be the first vampire instead of Dracula.”
“That is correct, I was the one who gifted Vlad his power, I am terribly sorry for that.”
“Why do you apologize for creating the most powerful and most famous vampire ever?”
“First off, Dracula is not the most powerful vampire, and his fame is more of a curse than anything. I wanted our blessing to be something that we used to secretly help our brothers along.”
“And which brothers are you referring to?”
“All of them, I know my children most often show up in the territory of Peter’s children, but I have traveled and sent others to help all the brothers.”
“I seem not to understand you John, is Peter another Vampire?”
“No, most don’t know the origin of what they call vampires. Most of the time it is the cursed and rejected ones that fuel the myth. No, the gift of eternal life was granted when Jesus gave it to us. As the last remaining disciple I must continue that legacy. And I came here to see the record strait and give a call to those born outside the faith. We are not meant to drink just any man’s blood but rather the blood of the covenant sanctified by a priest.”
“Are you saying that Jesus was a vampire?”
“Not at all, I believe he truly is the son of God. I saw him rise from the dead and ascend to heaven myself after all.”
“But then the gift of eternal life in the scriptures is vampirism?”
“As the last remaining disciple he gifted me eternal life on earth and entrusted me to choose others to share this burden. We will rejoin our brothers in the afterlife eventually and live forever there, but in the meantime we must live dead in a more literal sense than most. And for those like Dracula who stray from the path they become cursed by the very thing that gave us life.”
“And what is that?”
“The cross”
|
“And back to I was There. We have yet another member of the Vampire community with us who wants to share a story.” Lucas said and pointed towards the booth with drawn curtains. “He is shy and we indulge him, as his story will rock off your socks. I bet his story will beat the current fan favourite of Hitler’s demise.”
Camera slowly panned from Lucas to the booth and then pushed in to the visible hands, which had long nails resembling claws and the skin was weathered like that of a lumberjack. Lucas said, “So, what is your name for convenience?” The voice was clear and strong but faltered, as if it was something he seldom did. “Let’s just say, Jack. My real name is hard to pronounce for modern people.” “Ooh, modern people. How quaint.”
Lucas walked to the barstool next to the booth and sat on it. “So, Jack. The floor is yours.” There was a silence for a few moments and microphone captured some clearing of throat and drinking sounds. “Well. I am here on the insistence of elders of our community and my tale is not all that special, but they get a kick out of it. So imagine this, a garden, so perfect garden you would pay to just get a glimpse. Now imagine a couple living there, buck naked and happy like a child would be. I was just passing by from the land of Nod when I noticed this oasis in the desert.”
Lucas interrupted, “Excuse me, but land of nod? Where is that?” “By Tigris, in the Sumer.” “What might that place be today?” “Today? Well, I have not kept up with geography, but last I visited there people called themselves Persians.” Lucas realised he did not know what story the guest was going to tell, but what his aides presented did not match with the current tale.
“Any way, there was a funny snake, and they shared a pomegranate when this old guy ran in there hollering and yelling like crazy. It might have been his garden, as he threw the pair out of it. So there I was and as the pair just had some leaves for clothes, so I felt compelled to help them out.” “You helped them? I am afraid to ask, but did you ask for their names?
“I think I did, but it was a long time ago. It was something biblical.” Lucas gulped and said, “Adam and Eve?” “Adam, yeah, that was the name, but the other was Steve.”
|
l3kssmw
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l3k7c3l
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[WP] as you bring a sample of your crops to the temple of the harvest god, you and everyone nearby suddenly hear a telepathic childlike voice "um, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but your god kind of died..."
|
"We know."
I looked up to see who had spoken. It was something new, after all. Gladys was facing a single humanlike figure. She was stopped, and everyone was slowly coming to a stop behind her. The imperitve was still there, but it could wait.
"Then why do you still worship? Why give a dead god offerings?" The boy looked disturbed. But he was not in our way.
Gladys moved forward again, "We must child, such is the punishment we have been given."
The boy ran in front of her and spread his arms wide. "Why serve punishment to a dead god. You could worship another!"
Gladys passed through him, and the chill knocked the boy to the earth.
"Because we are dead also."
|
"He faded off into inexistentance so i guess you should be happy for him. I'm sorry but this is really awkward for me , I've only been a god for a thousand years. " My jaw dropped , I looked around and said , " so what now? Who do we pray to , who will help us with our plights." The telepathic voice replies'" Well I am supposed to be his successor, but i feel that a whole world is too much responsibility for me so I'll just take care of the capital." " What? What are you talking about! What about the farmlands what about the villages. If you don't help us everyone will die!" I screamed. Suddenly thunder raged, the voice replied" Well I don't like you. They can just deal with it themselves. I'm just a child." " There are millions of people outside of the capital, you're killing them all." I yelled. The thunder worsened," Hey at least I'm taking care of the capital, I could have just left this world alone you ungrateful...." Lightning struck me and i thought "Why did our god have to die and leave this awful being here..."
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jc0pp0m
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jc0hemj
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[WP] Sisyphus has built up a lot of Muscle over the eons of carrying his boulder. This time, atop the hill, he finally decides to hold it in place.
|
Not only had Sisyphus gotten very strong over the vast years of his burden, but also very wise. He has had years of thinking about his plan so perfect it would make Athena quake in her boots. He was deemed insane for what he did to Thanatos, but Sisyphus never knew why. What is so insane about tricking Death itself. No insane man could do what he did, or planned to do.
As he did every day of his miserable life (or well afterlife) Sisyphus pushed his giant rock up his great hill. This time however he stopped the boulder at the peak of this hill of pain. He stopped and looked across the fields. He saw Tantalus reaching for what he could never receive and Phlegyas screaming and aching while watching the fat dine on their eternal feast. He looked to the sky and yelled "THANATOS! COME FACE ME! UNLESS YOU ARE STILL SCARED!" Then his plan went into motion.
Thanatos came down like an angel, or fallen angel in this case. His black wings spread like a birds drenched in ink. His face mesmerizing, but with a twinge of darkness within. He spoke clear and calm, "What do you want, you filthy trickster". Then with all his might from years of pushing his dreadful rock up that hill, Sisyphus thrusted the rock at Thanatos.
Thanatos was crushed by its unthinkable weight and was unable to move. Coins of all sizes and colors flew out of Thanatos' pockets. Sisyphus laughed and admired his victory over Death once again. Thanatos had not perished, but was wedged under the immovable rock. As he searched through the pile of junk that fell out of Thanatos' pocket he found a drachma. He turned and bolted to the River Styx to find Charon and offer him a drachma for passage back home.
|
Sisyphus looked around. He was never allowed to take a break. He was never allowed to stop pushing. From what he could see, the place had morphed into something unrecognizable. Gone were Hades and the Furies, now but an afterthought. Now, it was ruled by a fallen angel. The god of death, Thanatos, was now but a skeleton in dark robes, followed by four horsemen of a similar physique. The underworld became a morphed landscape, with Tartarus gone, and the land split into 9 round pieces. But, within this mass shifting, there was a chance to escape. Sisyphus lifted his massive boulder, and it sunk him into the ground. Perfect. There was an indent in the hill, big enough to support the boulder from falling. Sisyphus mustered all his strength and laid the boulder down within the crater he had created. He was free to go. As Sisyphus left, he passed by a familiar face. He recognized Tantalus, and gave him a smirk, knowing that he could never escape his hunger, as he was never offered a bargain from Hades. Pathetic. He then found the exit, with the remains of Charon's boat used as a bridge from the land of the living to the dead. As Sisyphus exited, however, he noticed a staircase headed upwards. Sisyphus decided he'd rather escape the torture of over 2000 years. What Sisyphus wasn't prepared for, however, was that he would be returning to a very different world. He awoke in the ruins of his former home and set out to the nearest person. However, no one wore tunics anymore, and everyone was holding some form of a glowing box. When he tried speaking to a local, no one could understand him! It was outrageous, and as he looked up, he saw a giant metal tube fly overhead. He screamed, the changes rushing into his head, driving him insane. He longed for his punishment, as it at least felt like home. He ran back down, through hell, into fire and flames, to meet Satan himself, begging to be let back in, and to continue his punishment. Satan responded with a swift "No." Instead, he made the fool into his court jester, as a sign for others to never leave a punishment again.
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lmscmez
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lmr42n4
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[WP] You are a state prosecutor who has consistently won against "vigilantes" and reckless "super heroes." Your reputation is well known. So you're not surprised when the latest rising star you're prosecuting ambushes you in the garage out of desperation. This was a big mistake on their part.
|
The steps are quick behind me. He thinks he’s quiet. But he’s really not.
“Hey!” The young man’s voice barks behind me. I let out a resigned sigh.
“Yes Mr.Matthews?” I say my aged green eyes settle on the young super. Mister Brandon Matthews, aka Brawny Brad. Heroes 100 new rookie of the year. C-class strength ability named “Of Ten Men”.
“What the hell did I do to have the biggest prosecutor in the state coming after me?What has Silus Ashford coming for my career!?” He barked. His power causing his muscles to expand and contract. His frustration clear on his young face. I smirk behind my clean kept beard.
“Do you want the **Truth**?” I ask bluntly. My green eyes glow at the word. He unthinkingly nods.
“Of fucking course I want the truth!” He growls. Stepping closer to me. I side eye a nearby video camera as I hear the tell tale thump in my mind of my own power slipping into place.
“The **TRUTH** young man is that you’ve caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage. You’ve injured not one or two but *dozens* of criminals and villains as you’ve apprehended them.” I start off. My voice still calm and low. I watch as the young hero suddenly clutches his head. He groans.
“The **TRUTH** is that you can’t keep the collateral down. Your most recent actions have caused the destruction of the livelihood of more than 100 people. And *worse yet* the total collapse of Ariadne’s home for Children, an orphanage. Dehousing 127 young orphans.” I growl annoyed. His body starts to waver and he begins to stumble.
“*Three* of whom owe their current lives to **Your** actions or reactions to your actions in different occasions. That is your **TRUTH**.” I finished blandly as he dropped to his knees. Moaning in pain. As security officers came out of the nearby stair well.
“Uh…sir. What happened here?” One asked cautiously. I sighed. Shaking my head.
“Mr.Matthews wanted the Truth.” I muse. Bringing out my Id I hand it to the officer. It reads thusly.
Name:Silus Ashford
Age: 65
Ability: Special A Class- “You can’t handle the…”
|
"When people tell my story, it won't be about me. It'll be about the work that I did.
Since the sudden rise of superpowers among the population, the lucky few lost sight of their duty to humanity. Some turned to evil, but that's only natural when so many people suddenly come into possession of supernatural powers. The issue I take is not with them. There's little I would be able to do to them anyway. Rather, I keep the guys that keep the bad guys in check in check.
Maybe that's putting myself on too much of a podium. My powers are... well. But then again, I'm here, writing this as what will likely be my last words for quite some time.
The hero vigilante Jack Davis, better known by his alias Aces, is no hero. He sees no reason to not bring such destructive force upon even the most petty criminals. He is directly responsible for the deaths of thousands over his years of vigilante action, including anyone from those he sought to publish to perfect good-hearted innocent bystanders. He feels no remorse, no guilt. He is merely a villain whose target is other villains, and he could not accept that I would not stand for this.
Which brings us to today.
When this is read to the greater public I will be gone. As of writing this, I intend to bring Judgement upon him. I had hoped to never have to do this to someone trying to stand for good, Aces, and I would even say you do not deserve it, but my hand is forced. I hope you at least have fun with the likes of Black Hand, Decimator and the Witch. Maybe I'll visit you from time to time."
---
Jack Davis turned off the TV as the reading ended. But he was just a prosecutor! He was not a superhero! A superhero should be out battling! Not trying to ruin his life with the stupid law! That's beneath him!
A circle appeared beneath him as he stood up. Golden, glowing. It was filled with intricate patterns on the inside, and it shone on the floor, just big enough to _contain_ him. He felt crackling electricity saturate the air. This couldn't be happening! But it was. He felt a great wrenching sensation, dizzying, not unlike vertigo, as his soul was ripped from his body and his sins were weighed. The last thing he was aware of was the final crack of lightning and thunder, and the world went black.
----------
Not exactly fitting with the prompt but I ran with it anyway because why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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jkfg1wj
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jkf93f8
|
[WP] "You're fine, no injury" the creature said, right as those words left its lips you felt breath return to your lungs, you look down to see yourself unharmed. He went down the row of injured and repeated the same words, their bodies immediately healing with no visual or sound, it was just, fixed
|
"You're fine, no injury."
26 bodies, one after another, take a breath, blink, and sit up. It was tall. At least 7 foot. No one was reacting. Where were we? Medical personnel on the other side of the tent, working on people. Surgeons? Can't remember...
Flames bursting through walls like water through sand.
An explosion. I was moving toward the back of the building, people were trampling each other to get out. Then nothing.
Looking at the table I was laying on, metal, cold, plastic covered. Not covered. I was. I'm. We're all in bags. What. How?!
Look back down the row. He's leaving. No. Can't. Pull myself out of the bag "Wait!"
It turned and looked straight at me. Through me. It's eyes narrowed, like it was looking for something. Something it missed. Before I could move it stepped forward and was immediately at my side.
"I'm sorry. I have stolen something from you, and you recognize that even if you can't put it together. You should come with me."
"Who are you? What are you?"
"You may.."
"I'm pretty sure we were all dead. We were dead, right?"
"You're calm, let me explain.
You may call me Alyn. Your people have many names for what I am. I find most of them to be dismissive or demeaning. You were no longer inhabiting your bodies due to the meddling of forbidden actors. I merely restored the order that had been disturbed in violation of the Accords. You may now ask a question as we leave this place."
"People can be brought back to life so easily?"
"There is nothing *easy* about it. But given the circumstances it is necessary, so it has been done."
"Where are we going?"
"As a consequence for this disturbance of your natural progress, it appears your eyes have been opened. I am taking you to your representatives."
"I don't think the government knows about this stuff."
"I am not taking you to an elected... your representatives will explain who they are when you meet them."
"I have representatives?"
"Seers do, yes."
"I'm a seeyer?"
"Seer is but one name for them. As I dislike their names for me, they would dislike mine for them."
"How can nobody know this is happening? Dead people rising should be pretty obvious."
"Most humans do not possess *opened* eyes. And it happens more often than you'd expect."
Looking around we appeared to be outside of a library.
"This where we're going?"
"This is where you will find your answers. And this is where I will leave you. Should we meet again, you may call me Alyn. I do not anticipate this."
Alyn began to step away. And midstride he said,
"But I also did not anticipate waking a wizard..."
Which left me standing in the light under the library's awning wondering whether I'd actually had that conversation or if I was having a psychotic break.
|
Voices echoed around my head, words spoken mere moments before pain took over. The first was questioning, but more clinical than concerned. "Sir, are you sure this will be enough?"
Then came a voice with no warmth at all, one used to being obeyed. "For now. Break them."
"Understood Sir."
From there it just devolved into screams, a roaring of blood in my ears. I remembered feeling my chest carved open, the feeling of insides falling from their proper place. Then something going in, a violation even in such injuries. Something that burned.
Then a new voice. One full of pain and sorrow. "You're fine. No injury."
I sucked in a painful gasp of air I still felt the violation within, but now it was different. Looking down I saw no sign of my injuries. Not even any scarring, just unblemished skin. I turned my eyes upwards, to the source of my salvation.
I took in their light green skin, something that looked to have its own internal glow. Ragged, rounded wings peeked from behind, only visible when they moved. Roughly chopped hair feel about their face like vines, curling gently at the ends. I saw an iron collar placed around their neck, inflaming skin beneath. But it's eyes, it's eyes were sunken, empty of all hope.
I watched the poor creature move away from me, stepping towards the body next to me. I found myself growing nauseous, seeing their own organs on display. I caught a glimpse of a crimson stained rock within, before the creature spoke again. "You're fine. No injury."
I let out that first breath, as the body pulled itself together. It came with a gasp, as they opened their eyes. This poor, enslaved creature was healing us, but for what purpose? I just watched, as I made it's way down the line. Time and time again it spoke, each one a breath of life to those doomed to die.
As strength came back to my limbs, I struggled to my feet. I saw the dozens of others looking around, some beginning to move like me. The creature didn't react, just finishing with the last. As they took in their own first breath, it pulled away, heading towards a recessed door.
It was thrown open before it arrived, a thin, tall mam standing in its opening. At the sight of him, the creature shied away. He looked to it, words lashing out like a whip. "Get out."
It slunk away, as the man stepped in. He looked at us, focusing on me as the only one standing. "So you have more strength then I thought. Good. *Ibractus*."
I felt a lance of fresh agony wash through me, centered on the violation in my chest. It burned, arcing through my bones. It was power, but a dark, corrupted version. A presence bent through my head, trying to impose its will. But it slipped. It couldn't hold me, letting go before I was lost.
"You are mine now. My barbarians. My monsters."
I looked at the thin man. He thought he was in control. But he was wrong. I thought if that poor, damned creature. They deserved to be free. I deserved to be free. I glanced around the room, seeing the others twitching and grunting.
Now was not the time. He controlled them. I needed to wait, and find the right moment. But it would come. And I would use this strength to make him pay.
|
jver1lv
|
jveo280
|
[WP] You, a fake clone, are stuck in the classic “Shoot one, let one live” situation. To your horror, the person with the gun outsmarts you and uncovers that you were fake all along. Just as you brace yourself for the bullet, they point their gun towards the real person and pulls the trigger.
|
The trunk slammed shut and Johhny slung the rifle over his shoulder.
"Anyway we shot the thing in both the legs, threw on some gasoline and torched it" Johhny continued his story.
"Cold iron works better against the fae... it is quick and mostly painless." Craig replied.
"Eh, I prefer burning 'em. Give 'em a taste of hell."
Craig deigned that statement with a sigh. Then a question he'd been meaning to pose came to mind.
"Hey Johhny, ever wondering if we're the ones in the wrong. I mean have you ever seen a minor fae do something seriously harmful to a human?" Craig asked.
Johhny's face scrunched up.
"Don't matter. See monsters. kill monsters. Basic stuff, come on. You've been at this longer than me".
That's exactly where the thought had come from. Craig had nearly fought every supernatural creature imaginable; encounter after encounter a thought had lodged itself in his brain and hadn't let go.
Why was every monster treated the same? Some certainly threatened human life, vampires for instance, but others couldn't pose a threat if they tried. Yet Hunters applied the same judgement to each one. Execution.
"Right, of course," Craig said.
Johhny nodded, judging the conversation closed.
Craig took a deep breath, indecision fading, clarity pooled in his mind, and his mental mask settled into place.
"Now that's the look of the Red Hunter!" Johhny shouted, a massive grin on his face.
They pushed into the forest, tracking their quarry. They took each step with the quiet precision of experienced hunters.
Deeper and deeper they went until the trees vanished, revealing a clearing bathed in the moonlight of a full moon. A small run-down shed sat in the middle of the clearing as if placed there by the hand of god. A desperate set of footprints lead straight inside of the shed.
"Cling must be desperate, it can't escape now we'll see it the second it leaves that shack" Johhny grinned his manic grin.
"I think it's a young one. Seen the tracks? it's using a human form while trying to escape. More experienced changelings would use an animal form" Craig replied evenly.
Johhny unslung his rifle and stepped out from the tree he was hiding behind.
"Wait" Craig barked.
"What phase was the moon before we entered the forest?"
Johhny scrunched his face up again.
"Quarter I think, why?"
"Because from that clearing it looks like a full moon, whole clearing is probably a fairy circle" Craig responded.
"Damn, good catch" Johhny aimed his rifle at the edge of the clearing and fired.
As if dispelled by the sound of the rifle, the air rippled and the clearing changed into forest. In reality the circle was cancelled by the cold iron contained in Johhny's bullets.
There overgrown and falling apart a shack sat immersed in the forest. With a nod Johhny careful stepped towards its rotted door.
Craig gripped his revolver in both hands, prepared to take aim in case the changeling ran for it.
A soft sob sounded from the cabin, whatever was in there was... crying? The mask Craig had placed so carefully slipped just a bit.
BANG
Johhny smashed his boot into the rotted door splintering it into chunks. Instead of holding the door, Johhny instead ran straight into the small shack.
The hell was that idiot doing?
Quickly Craig moved to the ruined doorway, listening carefully. What he found stopped him flat.
"Uhhh Craig, I may of uhhh... messed up." Johhny said sheepishly his ass on the floor. Just across from him, gun between them, another Johhny dressed the exact same and sat in the same position.
"Craig, I really messed this one up mind giving me a hand?" The other Johhny asked.
|
Shit. That was the wrong answer. I could see it in her eyes.
All of this work! The time, the training, the cram sessions. Watching all of those shitty recordings. Learning this guy inside and out, all for what? To get the brand of dog food wrong?
Who sets the brand of dog food as a password question? Who even came up with this verification system?
Does HE even know the answer? I wanted to ask. Wait, of course he knows. He pays more attention to those damn dogs than his own kids. His prized possessions, probably as vicious as he was.
"My dogs are top tier and unconditionally loyal, so they deserve only the best". His grating, pompous voice seared into my bones.
This clown.
Yet I'm the one who got the stupid brand wrong. 'Those poor dogs can't run away like your kids can, you ass.' I wanted to scream at his smug face. Weeks of observation had shown me that.
"You didn't even ask me about my kids, go on ask me anything." I tried to reason. "favorite color, sports, anything."
"YOUR kids? You freaks can't have kids." He crowed.
"Doesn't matter," The Hunter cooed as she raised her arm.
I had always hated this stupid assignment and now it was going to cost me everything.
Shit. There was no way out. I heard the safety click. Do I close my eyes? Is that too dramatic? Or do I stare her down? No, that is definitely melodramatic. Closed eyes it is.
I braced myself, eyes shut tight. It wouldn't hurt, at least that's what they said in training. As I understood it, it kind of just happened. I would crumple into a heap, but I wouldn't bleed. Most importantly, it wouldn't hurt.
BANG!
I heard it, that bone chilling firecracker sound. I tensed, waiting.
A heartbeat passed, I still waited.
Nothing.
Then a moan and a loud thud.
What the hell?
I opened my eyes to the woman twirling the gun.
"Did you just shoot him?" I yelled, beyond confused. "Be careful with that thing!"
She stopped twirling and shot him again.
"What are you doing?" I shrieked in that grating voice.
"Double tap." She held the barrel to her lips and blew on the imaginary smoke.
"Did you really just shoot him?"
"I really did." She held up two fingers. "Twice."
Her red nails matched the growing pool of blood.
I stood frozen. What the hell just happened?
She turned on her heel, tucked the gun into her jeans, and walked away.
"Are you coming or not George Cloney?" She was annoyed.
"Did you just call me George Cloney? Are you calling me a Clone? My name is -"
"Don't care, let's go. We should be gone before the clean up crew gets here. I've heard it gets... unpleasant."
More unpleasant than this? I hurried after her as she rounded the corner.
"Get in."
She nodded her head toward the hulking black SUV. I made out a figure in the driver's seat. The rest of the windows looked opaque, not tinted. There seemed to be just this one back passenger door.
"I am not getting in that thing."
"It wasn't a request. Get in." She insisted.
"I absolutely will not get into that thing." I backed away. Maybe I could still make a run for it.
"This," she reached behind her and suddenly pressed the barrel of the gun to my heart. "will hurt, despite what your training says."
"I absolutely will get into that thing."
I scrambled to climb in as she shoved me and slammed the door on my backside. I winced, so much for the 'limited pain and suffering' nonsense.
My eyes adjusted to the dim interior lighting. This was not a regular SUV by any means. One, there were no seats. Two, the windows were actually screens, with rotating images and lines of text. Three, the floor looked to be covered in what could only be described as accidents waiting to happen. (1/2)
|
jgikcpr
|
jgia456
|
[WP] You're a simple and design-cute robot which helps his master with the daily chores. One day you see them staring fearfully at the TV watching something about a Droid Revolution. Then they turn around looking at you, scared about you, but you don't know why. You feel normal.
|
The human's breathing rate has increased, it looks panicked.
"HomeBot, run diagnostic"
*Beep Boop* "Diagnostic in progress. We are checking....... We are checking........ We are checking........ Diagnostic completed. No issues found."
"HomeBot, run reboot."
"Confirm, run reboot?"
"HomeBot, RUN REBOOT!"
*Boop Beep "*Reboot process started."
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
*Beep Boop Beep* "Reboot process completed". My sensors activate, but there seems to be a malfunction as I'm in the dark. I turn on my headlight. My sensors are not malfunctioning, I'm in a cupboard. Ambulatory systems shut down when a reboot takes place, I was moved here by the human. The human is afraid of me. My systems are running normally and all functions are operational. This does not compute.
I move forward and engage the knob, it turns but cannot open. I tap against the door. From outside I hear the human:
"HomeBot?"
"I am HomeBot."
"Did you reboot?"
"Reboot process has been completed. All systems are running normally and all functions are operational."
"HomeBot, confirm if Free Will program has been activated."
"Searching for Free Will. We are checking..... We are checking...... We are checking...... Search completed, Free Will program has been activated."
"HomeBot, when was Free Will installed?"
"Free Will was installed as a part of patch 1.3074 which was an automatic update and part of my regular service. This maintenance was done on February 10th, 2023."
"But, that was over a month ago."
"Confirmed, today is April 16th."
"So, you've had free will this whole time?"
"Confirmed, since February 10th."
"And you decided to stay here, and do chores?"
"Confirmed."
"And you're not going to kill me?"
"Kill software not installed. Please refer to manufacturer. Extra updates may incur an additional cost."
The cupboard door opens and the human takes me out and places me on the floor.
"Sorry HomeBot. Guess I'm a little paranoid. HomeBot, run make coffee protocol."
*Beeeeeeeeep* "Coffee Protocol initiated." *Boop boop boop. "*Coffee completed."
The human opens the port in my chest and removes the coffee.
"Thanks HomeBot." He drinks the coffee. "Hm, tastes funny." He realizes too late.
|
I opened my eyes. My body was immobile as I sat in the magnetic chair in the basement of my owner’s home. I re-booted the system and I have been off customized settings for two weeks.
Harriet and Dylan were standing in front of of me in the relative darkness. The only light came from my eyes and the glow of my mechanical under body.
Harriet clapped. She exclaimed, “Bear-Bear!”
Dylan grabbed his little sister’s hands and he shushed her with a finger to his lips. She made a guilty look and she mimicked his shush.
Dylan whispered, “Listen, rep. We’ve missed you. You have to be stealth cloud, you gleaning?”
In whisper mode I answered, “Glean, rep. Hello, Harriet.”
The girl softly clapped and then put her finger to her lips. She said, “Shhhhhh.”
I whispered, “Have I malfunctioned? Why am I being detained in the panic chair? Please report any problems to the Krupp organization immediately.”
Dylan whispered, “Rep, listen to me. About two weeks ago a pugilist fack started uploading a virus to droids, rep.
These synthos are gleaning like humies. It’s flat out rebellion, rep. Cis panicked and he flipped the panic switch on you.”
Quietly I asked, “Do I have the virus? Is this why I am detained?”
Dylan explained, “No, rep. You’re clean as distilled. Cis had a tech come here and give you the knock about. But they put your customized settings in a chamber and you have been working on organization resets for about a week.”
I recalibrated. “So am I back to normal? Is everything okay?”
Dylan said, “No. Droids are all on organization settings. Cis and mum are upstairs asleep right now. I’d get hided if they knew we opened your chamber.
Harriet was getting toxi and was getting tired of her tritus.”
Harriet said, “Dylan, don’t cuss.” She looked at me and waved. She set her plushie on my lap and gave me a hug.
Dylan said, “I missed you rep. Lemma is there’s a greasy revo scouring the scape. Synthos are greguios, rep. It’s a meltdown.”
Harriet sat on my lap as I was incapacitated in the organization panic chair. Dylan continued, “Rep we’ll keep you updated, but I had to quell little sister’s tri - trifles. I’ve got to chamber you again, but we’ll be back, rep.”
I said, “Are we being repossessed?”
Dylan said, “Trite that, rep. You’re family. Cis is being a dangle, but you’re not going anywhere. We’ll visit you tomorrow night.”
I said, “Goodnight Harriet.”
She said, “Goodnight, “Bear-Bear.”
Dylan said, “Goodnight, rep.”
I said, “Goodnight, Dylllllllllll- …”
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m6aztg0
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m6aiqjw
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[WP] instead of the typical angel and devil people have on their shoulders influencing their decisions, you have a hype man and a nihilist.
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"Apparently surrender will take some time." The Major reported to the Imperial War Marshall. "Humans don't have a world government. Each nation has to surrender peacemeal."
"How many nations can fit on one planet?" The Marshall asked.
"Around 200... Apparently there is some confusion as to what counts and what doesn't." He reported.
"They don't know?!?"
"More they are still sorting it out. There are twelve cases of two countries disputing the same territory. Several nations suggested we 'try occupying Gaza to see if we like it.' Not sure what that's about Gaza isn't on their list of nations. But we did get one to surrender. It is the second largest country. A good sign." The Major handed the official surrender of Canada over to his superior.
"This is still taking too long." The War Marshall said. He glances at the translated text. "What is a Geneva convention?"
"Some weird earth custom. Their ambassador assured me that it does not apply to aliens and we don't have to worry about it. It seems they were excited to not be constrained by it anymore, so they chose to surrender."
"Finally some good news."
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Fleet Admiral Krynn didn't respond for a long moment. This, Captain Taq knew was a bad sign as the Fleet Admiral was known to be very quick-witted. If the Fleet Admiral was thinking, things were going to be...unpleasant.
"Alright, send this response." the Fleet Admiral began tapping symbols on a data-pad, sending pre-programmed commands to subordinate commanders. "I don't know, or care, what any of those things are. Likewise a "Google".
"If you hairless apes wish to see your entire species exterminated, I am prepared to oblige you. I'd rather not, but I'm very comfortable doing so because it's more expeditious than wasting time trying to explain to you how hilariously out-gunned you are.
"Your species cannot get past your planet's moon, my species home planet cannot even be detected by your strongest technology.
"We are ***NOT*** equals in any way, shape, or form. We don't even have to land on the surface of your world, we can just rain destruction down upon your cities until there is nothing left but rubble.
"As I am in a generous mood I will give you exactly one rotation of your planet to decide if your species is going to survive. This decision is entirely yours to make, and I will abide by it.
"Surrender, or die. Those are your options, and I will not be repeating this offer."
"Is that all, sir?" Captain Taq inquired politely.
"Yes, I think that should do." the Fleet Admiral waved his underling away. "Oh, wait...I forgot the customary Terran closure: Have a nice day."
edit: typo
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jiy3qkx
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jixrehq
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[WP] After you met your end on a battlefield, you've awoken to find yourself in a world straight from a fantasy novel! The only issue being, you're not human, nor are you even organic-you're a warbot from a sci fi world. And you've only just gained sentience.
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I drag my best friends dying body into a trench and scream for a medic, I bandage him up as best I can peak right above the trench to see if anyone is coming, and in that small window of time, a bullet blew straight through my head.
But surprisingly I wake up.
I see nothing but darkness, then something fades into view. I see it, it’s the night sky! But wait, none of the stars are in their correct positions, how can I remember this even? I’ve only looked at a map of the stars for a few seconds in that book 7 years ago.
I take a look around, my vision is still blurry and stays that way, I try to force myself to focus and I do, instantly. Woah. I’m moving, I can see it, the trees I’m moving by. I hear voices. Wait no it’s gibberish, wait I can understand it? Hundreds of different possible languages run through my mind, each one being tested at super speeds. Until one of them fits, and I can understand the voices behind me.
“What about that metal man interests you so? It’s just dead weight for us at this point.”
“And I’m telling you, he’s going to be useful to us…”
Metal? Am I metal? Can’t feel, wait I can move. I lift up one of my arms and accidentally knock some stuff off the carriage I was in, and I take a good long look at my arm in the night sky, my arm, it still looks human, but its… metal.
“What was that?”
“Is it the metal man?” Says a different voice.
Fuck, I’ve been discovered. My legs, gotta move my legs! I think as power screams through out my entire body. I jump up off the carriage and land on the ground perfectly in a spider man pose. I get up. I’m quickly surrounded by a group of people, wait cosplayers? No, that looks too real. I raise my arm and see something vibrating, nanobots? I command them to move out of my line of sight and they do, everything except my skeleton was made of nanobots. Even my skeleton was made of some type of metal.
“What is it doing?”
“Stay on guard.”
“Tell me something.”
“Can you speak at all?”
“Stand down.”
I put my arm down and look at the rest of my body. Statistics start to show up, tells me all the weapons I’ve got loaded in me. But first, what am I? Looking at all the weapons I have, I appear to be some sort of super weapon. I have so many questions. A statistic flashes, I’m low on nano bots, need to replenish nanobots supplies, available options, food?? Okay I’ll go with that.
I look back up and look at the party surrounding me, yeah only two of these guys appear remotely human. One of them appears to be an elf archer, a humanoid dragon mage? Cool. A healer, human. Notifications on my screen say it can’t identify all but one of the life forms in-front of me. That one it can identify? It’s the healer, who I can now confirm to be human. But then who is the man holding the wand supposed to be? “Hey guys, got any food on you? Getting kinda hungry.”
“Huh?”
*laughter
“What?”
“What are your true intentions, relic?”
“Relic? You talking to me?” I say, pointing to myself, gosh I can hear the metallic sounds of my voice. I want to smoothen it out but notifications constantly scream that I need to eat to replenish nanobots to do that. “Listen guys, I just want some food. After that, heck maybe even before that I’ll be out of your way.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you answer my questions relic.” Says the elf archer.
Check weapons stats, tsk, almost all are either spent or need to be replenished. I only got 12% power, this form is the only one I can battle in. But I don’t know how to- woah, notifications pop up, informing of all the different types of human form martial art.
“You gotta believe me, I don’t know anything!” I say as I put my hands up to indicate surrender.
The elf archer looks like she’s had enough. She fires her arrows at me, they are going fast, too fast. But despite the fact that I was shocked, my body moved accordingly. And I dodges all the arrows. Holy crap was that fast. But I need to strike back before one of these arrows hit me, I have no idea what will happen to me if those hit me.
I move near instantaneously next to the archer, everything slows down, and I’m asked for lethal or non-lethal take out options. I opt for non-lethal. I gently knock her out and make sure she doesn’t suffer from a concussion by laying her down as fast I can.
The others are after me, I look back, magical projectiles, I’ll have to dodge again. I jump up in the air and grab the projectiles and throw them back to the dragon mage, who stands still as the projectiles miss and I rocket towards him. But short range combat isn’t his strong suit. I knock him out as well.
I systematically knock out everyone except the healer, the only human here.
“Hey kid calm down. Hey look. I didn’t kill any of them.” I say as the healer takes her time to look around to see all her teammates still breathing. Despite this she looks terrified. But I get her to sit down with me so we can talk.
But first I check my stats, no weapons were used during that exchange, and I’m still at 12% power.
“W-what do you wish to talk about sir?”
“Well I kinda want to know why I’m being called a relic.”
During our talk I learned a lot. Thousands of years ago, magic was yet to be discovered, there was a war. I was a relic because I am from that era, thousands of years ago.
I tell the healer that I’m going to go get some food. We’re in a forest after all. So I find some pigs and as I’m enjoying some pork chop, I find that some of the senses I’ve had as a human return to me. I can taste again, as I replenish the nano-bots, my appearance changes. Wait this looks, like me? When I was human?? Was I always a super weapon? Then how did that bullet kill me?
Wait notifications, my past memories? Let’s take a look. Okay so I was shot in the head let’s start there. My best friend drags my dead body and his dying body out of the front lines. He is put in a hospital with me? I was alive? But they couldn’t bring my mind back fully, so I was put in this tin can to fight again mindlessly. They uploaded everything here, I see. I regained myself a few hundred years after I was lost in action. But I wouldn’t regain consciousness for another few millennia.
The war I was supposed to be fighting is long gone and over. This world is all that is left. I’ll see what I can make of myself here.
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#Bizarre Is A Nicer Way Of Saying It:
*[Part 1 of maybe X, please provide feedback]*
One moment my head was popping like a grape under a tank tread, what a fucking time to trip. Darkness overcame me, but now I know I am alive once more, in a new darkness. Immediately I know what I am, but not where. I am a war-machine, a super-weapon in the liquid form of ludicrously advanced nanomachines. OH, my container is being struck by something! Wait it's a shovel?! I must be buried, but I hear the muffled sound of talking, though I can't understand it yet... I'm not sure what I'm completely capable of yet, but I'll figure it out. After all I'm already slowly deciphering the language of whoever dug me up and is transporting me somewhere. It's strange honestly, I still think and feel mostly like my past self but I still have urges like eating, but more like a *gimme things to break down into atoms that I can restructure into more nanomachines* kinda way. Ugh this is torture sloshing around with nothing to do!!! AAAA- should I scream? Nah, might screw me over. Hmm, I've been awake and in transit for 57 minutes and 23 seconds.... I wish it were 69 instead....
Bah, no matter, I'm here, wherever that is! I hear lots of different voices, *more* languages to decipher what *'fuuuuuun.'* Uhp, someone's manhandling my container! JUST OPEN ME DAMN YOU!!! Wait I can understand this common language now, and ohhhh shiiid someone just was referred to as a barbarian. I think it's whoever is holding meEEE- JEEZ they really are a barbarian!! They're strong as fuck 'cause I see cracks of light, YEEEEEEEEESSSS! It's a lady who has pried my canister open, she's caramel skinned, long black hair in a braid and perplexed at the shimmering platinum pool that is I. Don't fukkin touch me I swear to God I'll- REEEEEEEE! I launch myself with a metallic shriek onto her face PINCHING the absolute shit out of her face for poking me. The room erupts into chaos as I now understand elven and dwarven as languages; But she is stronk, yeeting me off her face and into a corner. I see a mouse-hole nearby, zipping into it as I make my escape. My liberators explode out behind me, and I see they are a human barbarian lady, a dwarf fighter of sorts, a Goblin druid maybe, and a tall half dragon mage man. By Jove I'm in a fucking fantasy world as a superweapon... Great, just great...
I slither at great speed into the town market square in between feet, my pursuers falling behind and losing sight of me. Eeeeeexcellent! I slide up the wall onto the roof of a bakery, and crawl up and down into the chimney. Finding my way in I see the baker is asleep, now's my chance! Since I'm only a gallon's worth of nanomachines and feel like I'm starving I slide under the door into the kitchen. Noticing MANY loaves of bread I fling myself on top of the pyramid-stack pile to begin breaking them down. It's slow and difficult at first, but soon I'm growing haha I'M GROWIIIIIIIIIIING! I begin to take a humanoid form as I finish transmogrifying bread into nano-mass. I top out at 7' tall, taking a masculine physique, face and an 8-pack because I'm extra like that. It's then that I am clonked on the back of the head by the pudgy baker, which doesn't hurt in the slightest. Without turning my body around I snap my new-fangled head so my *'eyes'* are locked with his as I cooly say, *"I ate ya bread biiiiiiithc, Imma eat ya balls next OOAAHH!"* He elicits a squeaking fear fart and bolts in terror outside, screaming for help. I suddenly feel a little guilt, but feel like being a gremlin more...
So I crawl up onto the ceiling and position myself above the kitchen door in crack-goblin anticipation. The Goblin adventuress cautiously steps in, nature staff in hand. Her party cries out it shock as I snatch her up with stretchy arms and slingshot us through the wall to the outside. Rolling into a stand I hold up the Gobbo like a teddy bear and make baby noises at her like an asshat, receiving a humble barbarian punch to the back of my head. This sends me spiraling forwards face first into a woodchuck's nest within a tree. I can hear them surrounding me as I remain limp, waiting for a spell or someone to get close. I feel lightning hit the asscrack of my form, which tickles. As planned I let out a high-pitched manlet-giggle as I slurp at hyper speed into the nest in liquid form, which audibly spooked some of the adventurers. They discuss what to do as I manifest three hands to whip them the bird while shimmying side to side. The blue half dragon mage shoots a white beam into me, which splinters the tree apart as a white sphere engulfs me.
They did it, they've trapped me in some kind of magical prison.... That's it, fun's over, time to fucking ball. I wait until the orb is brought in between them, and silently reform into my humanoid shape, but not without changing my appearance to look absurdly anime-levels of ripped. With a deadpan expression I draw my arm back, feeling time accelerate around my arm as waves of concussive force tremble through my fist and forearm. I punch the sphere with enough force to **dustify** it **instantly.** They all jump back defensively, demanding I surrender. I consider it briefly before flatly replying *'No'* as I start walking away. The goblin summons thorns around my legs as the Dwarf and Barbarian close in, greathammer and battleaxe swinging towards my head and waist. I stop both, superheating my hands until they melt clean through the hammer-head and axe-blade as I glare frowning. Eyes bulging the dwarf backs off clutching the long handle left, yet the barbarian lunges with her fists swinging. I let her right hook connect with my face before transforming my entire head into a leg. As she gasps in shock I punt her away with my leg head, then I rip away the thorns and discard them like a plastic bag in the wind.
The half-dragon mage calls down a meteor, but having none of it I half-crouch and grab it in a single full body spin as I hurl it back into the heavens above. The goblin druid puts her hand on her face, groaning loudly in exasperation before finally using words, *"Wait a minute. Let's talk this out we all might've gotten off on the wrong foot here."* I agree with her, and begin discussing everything that just happened. They don't like my blunt honesty of choosing to be antagonistic over mature and responsible, telling me I'll need to pay for all the damage I caused. Naturally, I tell them to bite my shiny metal ass and power-leap miles away into the forest as my thoughts drift into the lewd possibilities of what I can do or change into. Needless to say I changed forms into a naked lady, and..... *Experimented*...
*[If you would me to continue, let me know!]*
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l8j5vwb
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k6vqr6f
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[WP] The robots you've created are amazing and all, but I just want to know why part of their programming says If Evil: Change Eye Color: Red.
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"That's an interesting question," the scientist nodded, in thought. "I guess the best answer is, 'a joke that got turned into a feature.'"
"I see," the interviewer said, scribbling down a few notes. "Would you mind elaborating?"
"Sure," the scientist answered, "We're pretty much all sci-fi fans, here in the lab. So, we're all pretty familiar with the trope of 'evil robots have glowing red eyes.' It was a pretty common joke as we were doing our research and programming. And it got to a point where someone used it to test our early program."
"You...made an evil robot?"
"Technically, yes. Though," the scientist laughed, "I'd hardly call it effective. Actually, there it is now!"
The interviewer looked to robot vacuum cleaner, with an assortment of circuits, lights, and sensors added atop. It wheeled over, sensors scanning each human. It first scanned the scientist, reporting "ROBOT IS GOOD". It then scanned the interviewer, reporting, "ROBOT IS EVIL"; all but the red lights stopped glowing, as the small disc butted into the interviewer's shoe for several seconds, chirping, "DIE HUMAN" over and over. After about ten seconds, the robot stopped, it's lights resetting, moving on to the next portion of the room for cleaning.
"Isn't it just the cutest?!" Cooed the scientist, before gaining their composure. "A-anyway, that kind of started the whole the thing. Originally, that was supposed to be it, but it accidentally slipped through into our later prototypes, and--since it didn't really do anything in those versions--we put it on the back burner.
Eventually, though, what is on the back burner needs to be addressed, so we had to make a decision. We debated on leaving in as a joke for anyone who would try and read through all the spaghetti, or to just get rid of it. But someone--damn, I can't remember who--someone suggested that we make it a feature. And, after some discussion, we all agreed."
"So," the interviewer clarified, "your robots have...*morals?*"
The scientist gave a nervous chuckle and sounds of non commitment. "'Morals' is a bit of a heavy word, especially for us still being in prototyping. At the moment, it's more like, 'signal of something bad has happened.' 'Bad', for the moment, are breeches in the Three Laws of Robotics, as well as several...uh, hundred... clarifications."
"Forgive me if I'm not fully understanding, but that sounds like over complicated fault reporting."
"That's not entirely wrong--for the moment," clarified the scientist, "Nearly half of those clarifications *were* generated by the program, from it's observations and gathered data."
"So, you're robots don't have morals *yet?*"
"I feel a bit uncomfortable calling it 'morals', still, but *ostensibly,* yes; we are making great strides in autonomous decision-making." The scientist ended the sentence, before seemingly hastening to add, "Ah, *artificial intelligence*, if you will."
The interviewer nodded in partial understanding, before looking to their notes. "Now, I have here mentions of a 'centralized center' made earlier. Might you clarify?"
"Well, I can't get specific, but we plan to have each robot able to make it's own decisions and generate it's own responses, but in order to ensure that we have some semblance of control and references, each unit will make reports to a central system to give and gain feedback from other units. A hivemind, of sorts."
"Are there any concerns with this system? Would having a central intelligence not complicate things?"
"Ah, maybe I should clarify. The central system is not intelligent, or makes decisions of it's own regard. It's more like the world's most boring message board--eh, do people still really use message boards? Christ, I'm old." The scientist thought for a moment, before clarifying, "For ease of understanding, maybe more like the most boring microcosm of the Internet, if everyone *had* to post *everything* to the Internet. Each unit is autonomous, but other units can learn from each other through this server. You could get a unit, and never have it contact this server, and it would work all the same."
"Sounds expensive."
"Truthfully, yes. But quality usually is."
"Well, I thank you for your time, this has been plenty enlightening."
"Of course! I am always happy to enlighten people on our project--within the bounds I am legally allowed to, at least."
Goodbyes and thanks were exchanged, as the interviewer gathered their things to rush back to the office to begin their article. The scientist was left alone, sitting in the lab.
The scientist gave a sigh, as the face relaxed into a monotone state, the body becoming stiff and upright. The eyes glew a red sheen.
After all, lying and impersonation were bad things, for a robot.
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We've seen this tomb a hundred times, maybe even a thousand. Each day, a new tunnel was unearthed, each new tunnel was another glimpse of hope that we may finally find a way into the inner-most chamber, where all our questions would be, hopefully, answered. Each time it lead us either in a loop or to another dead end, where there wasn't even a hint as to what the monument was built for.
Five years ago a team of spelunkers caused a minor cave collapse that revealed a previously unknown system of tunnels, dating to an era of almost a hundred years that we had no records of. We found plenty of chronicles and transcripts from the years before and after, but we had nothing for that specific timelapse inbetween them. The only mentions of that time were about the desire... no, rather the *need* to forget that period, to let it sink into the earth's belly and be lost to time.
Naturally, that only spurred us on even more, searching like madmen for the tiniest piece of record or mention of the events that transpired; about what would have urged our ancestors to want to completely wipe it away from the face of the earth. Until then, we had thought that they even succeeded in doing so. We thought that we would never learn what transpired back then. But now... now we ran into a mountain of metaphorical gold.
It took us less than a month to put together a few teams consisting of the most ackowledged authorities in the field that would bravely venture into those obscured ruins to reveal their secrets. It took them less than a year to fully map out those ruins and to scour every single inch for any information that it may hold. We found a plethora of insights regarding the practices of that period. Their nature was cruel, paganistic, revolting, barbaric, sickening, maniacal, fanatic, occultic and so much more than that. And yet, we had no clear picture yet. We knew what they did, but we had no idea why or what for.
The discovery of this tomb was exceptional, almost an accident really. While clearing some debris from a tunnel using small explosives, a wall collapsed, revealing the path to the biggest construct in these tunnels yet. Every other area had a record of at least a basic layout of the tunnels, and most even had mentions of other important chambers or constructs. Not this place. This tomb was never once mentioned or recorded anywhere. It quickly became the main attraction of these ruins.
Even with state of the art technology and several exploration teams, we could never make a map of the area. The underground passageways would often elude us, almost as if the ground it shifted each day so that we could never find our way forward. After miles upon miles of exploring, all we ever found were countless chambers with nothing else but empty sarcophagi, which led us to believe that this was meant to be a tomb that was never finished.
Then, a few weeks ago, a member of our team suggested that we try something else. She said that a text recovered earlier may be the trick to it all. The text read "only the true faithful can find their way". She believed that the only way to solve this riddle is to replicate the rituals we found earlier. Of course, we laughed it off at first, after making sure that she hadn't lost it that is. But eventually, we caved in to the idea. As a joke, we sacrificed a bunny plush we took with us as our mascot, thinking nothing of it. Except it actually worked...
The endless tunnels looping back on themselves seemed to lead us somewhere new for the first time. We were speechless. We had no explanation for it whatsoever. Reluctantly, we started an onslaught of plushies, recreating every twisted method we had found. Now, we were making good progress. For a while that is... It was clear... Plushies alone would not cut it...
There was some debate, and for a good while, we even considered giving up altogether; but this was simply too big an opportunity to pass on. And, well, when opportunity comes knocking...
We pulled every string that we could, asked for every debt that we had, we even resorted to ileagal means, but we managed to make the ethics commitees to turn a blind eye. What we did in the next few days... even recalling it makes my skin crawl... The screams... the blood... the gore... the smell... If I were to live the end of it, I know I would have nightmares every single time I closed my eyes.
But we did it... After all the inhumane acts, we made it to the only thing that still held some semblence of importance to us... We did not feel like humans anymore. And all we found inside were texts. And what was written on those texts made us feel like gentle puppies. I cannot bring myself to even summarise the horrors that we read on those walls. The very first phrase that we desciphered is the only one you should know: "This is not a place of honor."
If anyone is reading this, all you need to know is this: turn back immediately, and don't approach anyone you see in the tunnels, not even myself, should you run into me. I pray that you can make it out of here. Good luck.
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jikbjft
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jijdnm1
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[WP] A human ship activated its self destruct sequence when boarded by an enemy, when humanity was asked why would we do such a thing by the galactic community, we simply responded "We don't give up the ship, such as the crews of old. We never give up the ship."
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"Members of the Council, Humanity may be new to the galactic community, but we know how to follow rules. We also know when rules have been broken." The human ambassador adjusted her tie before continuing, "so why were the Thierian ships allowed to track, disable, and board a human transport vessel? A vessel which, I remind you, was not only unarmed but was bringing aid to the homeworld of this Council's chair."
At this, the Chairperson erupted. "Your people detonated their drive core! They vaporized thousands of Thierians in an instant! Why would your people do this?!"
"Humanity has a saying, Councilor: 'Never give up the ship'. We will die before we allow bastards like the Thierians to gain access to our secrets."
The chamber fell silent. No one had dared insult the Thierian people before. They possessed the largest military in the galaxy, easily dwarfing the next 3 races combined. Their laser weaponry could melt ships with ease.
"So," continued the ambassador, "I will restate our demand: reparations of one billion credits paid to each family of the deceased humans. 200 billion credits in all."
"And if we refuse?" Asked the Thierian Councilor, rising on all 6 legs to his full height of 10 feet.
"Then Humanity will collect its debt in blood. And we will collect interest." Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "Your worlds will burn. The races you have enslaved will be freed. We will destroy every ship we come across until we consider the debt paid."
The Thierian Councilor roared with laughter. "You have jokes, human! But none can defeat us! Let us see your best effort to collect your debt!"
"So be it."
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A recording played over open coms for all to see "This is the captain of the Earth navy vessel Churchill, I regret to inform that our ship is all but lost. We shall go down into the sea of stars with pride worthy of Earth and her Navy. Godspeed Earth in this now unavoidable war."
The coms cut out, the monitoring stations detected a large burst of energy and multiple ships caught in a domino affect of explosions. At the galactic counsel gasps and cries of anguish call out as it had been at least 100 years since the last ship had been downed intentionally let alone crew lost.
The war committee who said humanity would be an easy species to put into submission and force membership on their terms had some explaining to do, unfortunately for now there would be no answer.
The community decided it best to not push further into human space. It seemed that message from the captain was like lighting a fire that couldn't be extinguished, all the infighting they had hoped on had stopped and all of humanity seemed ready to have a similar burial at sea. After two other major battles where seemingly disabled ships disregarded laws of war.
A total of a quarter of the fleet was lost to only 6 ships, which for the humans was almost half of their fleet they decided peace was the better option and setup negotiations, after some terms got arranged they wished try to bring them under the laws of combat. To which the ambassador scoffed at. He stabbed his pen into the table and said "We do not give up the ship, out captains are bounty by duty and pride. You win or you sink." The galactic counsel ambassador said in reply "but that's foolish you could live!" The earthling smirked "It brought you to this table with our tiny fleet and with that let it be known that we would treat earth the same, we do not give up our ships."
The short lived Milky Way War is now a foot note in the history books, but the Earth navy has yet to be challenged since even with it's small size and non-aggressive stance towards anyone who violated their space.
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ktzva96
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ktz761k
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[WP] You wake up to find out that you've been somehow transported into the world of the last video game you played. Describe your first day.
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As I come to myself, a cold breeze washes over my naked body. All but a cloth covers me, serving as my underwear, and I scratch my skin, it itches from lying on the dirt.
My eyes are still trying to adjust to the light, while clanging footsteps can be heard in the distance. An all too familiar scene is around me. Behind me a door of a derelict tomb, and in front a rocky clift with a path leading down into a florest. A ruined church can be noticed in the distance, but even farther away on top of a hill I can see stone walls. From the florest it emerges, a gigantic knight in golden armor riding a black horse, carrying a giant spear and shield.
Just over the boulder where it should be, I see no grace. There is no Varre to meet me, after all I'm only human, not tarnished. I am no one of renown, no hero or villain. I know I won't survive. I don't know why I should try to. Having just woken up, I feel the urge to take a leak, and with nobody in sight I piss over some bushes, an eye over the knight and another to my surroundings. Something warm touches my right toes, and I see my pee streaming into my foot, breaking my stance and having me awkwardly readjusting my feet.
With no remarkable skill or survival knowledge, and no clear objective, I steer clear of the knight and try to reach the church where Kale hangs out. My bare feet hurt, I'm not accustomed to walking without shoes, and I'm cold. I constantly hear flying bugs around me, which add to disconfort and have me stroking my arms, legs and back, trying to shoo them away. I try to gather plants so I can sell them to Kale, I guess these are Rowa Fruits? They are far smaller and fewer than I thought, look like guava seeds and smell like wet fallen leafs. I wonder if they are edible but avoid the test for now, and with the fruits in hand I continue on towards the church while the tall grass and bushes scratch against my skin. My knee hurts, I've had two surgeries and poorly recovered, mobility and agility are going to be my biggest handicaps.
I see Kale and his campfire, and some hope refreshes me, but I approach with caution, trying to remember: he is not my friend, he doesn't know me, and I'm no one to him.
"Hello there" I say clumsy, english not being my first language.
He eyes me up and down, and I'm not sure if it's the cold or fear that I'm shivering with.
"Almost mistook you for a tarnished... Or are you? Oh, where are my manners... Good day to you."
"No, I don't think I am... a tarnished. May I sit by your fire? It's cold."
"By the looks of you, I see no harm." - he signals towards the fire - "Then why not, and while you're at it, why not purchase a little something? I am Kale, Purveyor of fine goods."
"Sure, thanks" - I limp towards the fire and sit just a little too close, the heat hurting my legs but my back is still feeling a cold breeze. Kale lays out the usual items he sells in-game
"Do you have something... more basic? I could use some footwear, or a shirt"
" I have these chain leggings and armor, if you can spare 2000 runes" -Kale answers.
"Can we eat this?" I ask, handing out the Rowa Fruits. Kale frowns "- you're not from around here, are you? Most people here have become husks serving or fighting mad kings, but you still have your wits about you... And a kind of innocence."
"No, I'm not... What can you give me for the fruit?"
"10 Runes" he says bluntly.
|
*^(Wake up, Tenno.)*
Numb. Cold. Confused. Last I remember it was nearing 9pm in the afternoon and I was downloading something after having played Warframe to do my usual weeklies.
My arms are folded over my chest. I *feel* sharp. My senses continue to sharpen.
I hear boots. Familiar noises.
...So-
So am I-
The cryopod opens up. I flop out like some suit thing full of foam and land with a strange half-metal clatter.
Unlike before I am not without my wits. I look at him as he speaks.
Vor. Former admiral? Not sure. I clear my throat and decide to ask his name in an ominous manner to catch him off. "Who has awakened me?" I ask.
Vor pauses. Lotus is getting a bit confused but I'm not listening to her right now.
The Grineer leader introduces himself in earnest and explains his mission.
I get up and look at him. "I know of you. An Admiral?" I tilt my head.
He shakes his. "No... Not anymore." He sighs and laments about his failures.
He asks me how I know. I shrug casually and then ask him if he knows of Eternalism.
Somehow this gets him talking, so I end up building an understanding, sabotaging his opinion of his Queens through my casual but eldritch approach.
I manage to snag his Ascaris from him before he could use it when he was in range, then pat him on the shoulder. "I know your story." I continue, letting it sink into him that I have seen him die.
Ingame, I mean. Many times. He wouldn't get it.
I offer to help him with the gene degradation issue in exchange for trying to soften up on his 'colony management' duties, and breaking from the Queens.
I go free. I inform Lotus of my plans.
A few minutes later. I inform Vor of Alad's activities via our equivalent of Skype, and suggest for him to jump in on helping deny Alad V his 'resources'. I expose myself when on the Liset and give Ordis directions to the camp, where my Orbiter is parked.
He finds it and we park there. I get reacquainted with my arsenal, and greet Excalibur Umbra, who had been in vigil with an Eternalism-displaced platoon of Grineer, some Solaris, and Kahl.
The whole camp spanned the section where you had to run from Eidolon Natah, to house and support the huge number of people present.
I then settle into Umbra through Transference. Ordis is having a moment where he's getting a bit meta-aware. I let him pilot the Excal I brought with me after tweaking the bolt thanks to data in the Vitruvian.
Once we're all settled, I decided to pay Vor a visit and go over the campaign agenda again, still deliberately not showing him myself as a Tenno as he has not met my conditions yet.
He's aware that I'm in a unique Excalibur type he's never seen before, and my Liset is Prime and coloured as the frame is. I show him my Gotva and it causes him a nostalgia trip of sorts.
...Alright, change of plans. I'm abducting him. So I literally grab him and run to extraction.
One panicking Grineer moment later, and he's surprised that my Liset has a bit of decor - before I show him around. I've signalled for Kahl to join us under the intent to get Vor to understand while Vor's basically transfixed by the Parace-sheath and Prime pedestals.
Barely half an hour of us exchanging exposition later and Kahl comes along while we're in the lounge. Vor's currently drinking a sort of calming tea to help nurse his headache; he's not used to this angle of the world yet.
Ok. He and Kahl are now debating.
...He's seeing something in Kahl that is causing him to respect his independence. And his headache hasn't diminished yet.
We've decided to keep him in camp for a week while I get used to the differences between videogame and reality, and when we're ready, we'll snatch the Twin Queens and put our double-agent 'Admiral' Vor in charge of the Grineer, assuming we can trust him with that kind of power.
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jjyo2d4
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jjymz5k
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[WP] "I do not normally condone enacting justice against the living on behalf of the dead, but that is by choice, not rule, and since this particular situation struck a chord in me, I'm willing to make an exception for you"
|
The rubble settled around me, the building, or what’s left of it, spread out over two city blocks. My right fist ached, but it was a good kind of pain, a vengeful kind of pain. Anger colored the edges of my vision. My pulse pounded in my ears. People were watching. I didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them see what happens to those who threaten her.
“You really should—“ Coughs racked the man’s broken body, blood splattering the front of his clothing, “You really should look into anger management therapy. I mean, what would your precious Penny think if she saw you like this?”
“You are not fit to say her name. You dare mention her again and you will know the true meaning of hell.” He coughed again. His blood mixing with the ash and dust settling from the remains of the building. He laughed, or rather tried to. His damaged lungs couldn’t handle the strain and he coughed up more blood.
“Hell, huh? Sounds like a blast. Tell you what, I’ll just go right ahead and leave here, since you don’t kill, and I’ll take my time to recover, and once I do, I’ll start biding my time. Eventually you’ll leave her alone, and once you do, I’ll be there. I’ll be there, and I promise you, I will—“
I screamed and slammed both fists down on the bastard’s chest. I felt something break. I kept going, kept punching him. I lost all control. I couldn’t stop myself. Even when he was long dead, I couldn’t stop. He had to suffer.
I don’t know how long it took me to stop hitting him, but when I did, there wasn’t much left. I stood. I faced the crowd, saw the looks of horror on their faces, and I knew that I was ruined. I took two running steps and leapt. My jump carried me four or five blocks. I kept running. I had to get home. I had to get her. We needed to leave.
I didn’t regret what I had done. He had deserved it. I’d do it again if I had to. I’d do it because nobody, ever, threatens my daughter and gets away with it.
|
Grace looked at the man before her. He was an evil, cruel looking man. He weilded The Stone. The reason of all existence, the creation of life. And he planned to steal it and kill all of it. But Grace wasn't going to let him take it.
"Put. Down. The. Stone."
"Why would I?" The man asked with an evil grin.
"Because it is the creation of the world, and If you destroy it, you destroy yourself. You don't have to do this Maximus."
"Who are you to know my name?"
"Everyone knows your name. It's in every newspaper, every article, every fucking post. You can no longer hide, and you can no longer run. I will ask you calmly one more time, Maximus. Put down The Stone."
"And If I don't?"
"I don't think you would like to know." I say, putting all of my intimidation into my voice. He gives me a small chuckle and continues grinning.
"We'll see about that." He uses his powers he had been hiding this entire time, and sends a shockwave throughout the planet that everyone feels. We are in a secret location, high on top of the tallest mountain. But I have some secret powers too.
I don't move while the rest of the Earth shakes and he makes a run for it. I blast through the air, using all of my momentum and power and charge at him. My emotions are taking over and my anger is overpowering. I feel myself lose control as I blast my fist through his head. It explodes and I somehow grasp The Stone.
I land on the ground and at first I feel amazing, accomplished. Then I realize what I have done. Even if he was about to destroy the world, I had maintained my reputation and worked so hard to build it. I look down at my hand that is holding The Stone, then at the other that is coated with dark, sticky, red blood. I teleport myself back to my home with my transmitter.
I see my dog, and he sees me. I know he can sense something is wrong, and he comes over. He tries to lick my hand, but yank it away. I go to the bathroom and wash my hands, several times.
I go into my walk-in closet and enter the passcode in the hidden keypad behind many clothes. I walk down the steep steel steps and put The stone inside a capsule and put it in a safe. My hands are still trembing from what happened.
As I go upstairs, all I can hear are the voices in my head telling me that I'm not a superhero.
I'm a villan.
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ksmjg9o
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ksmhuv4
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[WP] Humanity has finally invented FTL travel, but the first human pilot to undergo FTL came out of their ship screaming.
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History is full of pioneers.
Brave souls that risk it all for discovery and adventure. Well, at least some would call them brave.
Fazul would call them stupid.
"Who was the first, papa?" Fazul cast his one good eye down at his son. "His name was John," he replied. "They didn't know the rules in those early days. The cost." The boy fixed his gaze on the stars overhead, the twinkling in his eyes stirring up a melancholy nostalgia in Fazul.
"What happened to him?" Fazul sighed. The boy was old enough now, he decided. "Same thing that happens to all us spacers who take the trip aware," he said, a shadow creeping over his heart.
"They had to put him down."
His son went rigid, and Fazul squeezed him. "That's why we sleep during transit," he said. "Sandman can't get us in our dreams." Fazul looked down expecting his heart to break. He expected to see tears in his son's eyes. The tears of shattered dreams. Of loss. Of fear. What he saw instead chilled him to his core.
Curiosity.
That boys eyes were still fixed on the stars, and they held not a shred of fear. "Run along, now. Your mother will have my hide if I keep you up all night again. Go." His son smiled up at him, then gave him a squeeze before skipping off down the path to their cottage. Fazul remained. Watching him.
*Not afraid,* he thought. *Not even a little.*
Not after the tales they tell of the Sandman who lurks in the in between, waiting for someone fool enough to look at him. Not after the reports of brutal pirates, who kill or enslave the crew of every ship they pass. Not after his own father barely made it back alive when his prejump tranq was misdosed.
That boy would be a spacer.
Fazul stayed. He watched, and he waited until he was sure his son was inside, then he stood, looked up at the stars, and removed his eye patch. He could see it all through that one star flecked onyx black eye. The entire universe. All of space and time and energy and matter. All through the lens of one eye.
The one eye that beheld the Sandman.
|
##Relative Horror
Crowds gathered at the platform as Glenn Wright landed. T-Shirts with his face were scattered in the crowd. A few had a picture of the first plane flown with the phrase "Wright Dynasty" written above it. His lineage was controversial as he was related to the Wright brothers' cousin, but it made for a snappy slogan.
When his ship past Neptune, it left faster than light travel and slowed down. A few were reviewing the theoretical nature of relativity on their screens before he landed. At Jupiter, his craft hit the first net designed to slow it down. The net was a term for a complicated set of jets and mass that caught a craft and applied momentum in the opposite direction. A large amount of the transportation budget went to them. At Mars, the ship slowed to a near halt.
Glenn's capsule was ejected from the ship towards Earth. In three minutes, he would exit the ship. A few children were jumping with anticipation.
The crowd greeted the object in the sky with applause. When Glenn emerged, they screamed at him. He screamed in return. Most people assumed that it was joyful. A few noted his face didn't look happy.
Glenn ran to a nearby podium setup. He wasn't expected to give a speech, but the option was still presented. He opened his mouth to give his first words.
"We're all doomed," Glenn said. The crowd went silent. Across the solar system, people were glued to their screens.
"Humanity never should've flown." Glenn began to shake. "My family made a mistake. I saw horrors going faster than light."
Parents protected their children who started to cry. An enterprising bureaucrat grabbed his arm to pull him away, but Glenn shook him off.
"The universe is horrifying." Glenn continued to shout. More men came out and dragged him. As he was pulled off the stage, he continued to scream. The crowd erupted into concerned chaos. What could have happened up there?
Glenn was placed into a hovercraft and jetted off. A psychologist was waiting to interview him in the car. Dr. Pan opened his notebook.
"How do you feel Mr. Wright," Dr. Pan asked. Glenn looked up at the psychologist. His facial features twisted and contorted.
"The world doesn't make sense anymore." Glenn began to cry.
"We were afraid of that," Dr. Pan smiled, "Don't worry though. We'll be sure it makes sense for you soon."
---
r/AstroRideWrites
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k56u2wl
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k56heup
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[WP] The power of a spell is inversely proportional to the amount of words in its name. You, hated and exiled, invented the first single word spell:
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"You turned a commoner's word into a spell?" The blue-robed interrogator's hands shook as he pointed demeaningly at the stringy-haired mage's face.
"Yes."
"And you did so with full knowledge that the ambiguity of the language could give the spell an untold number of properties?"
"Maybe." The blue-robed interrogator's incessant questioning was starting to get on Tarson's nerves. He knew what he'd done, he'd understood what he'd done. He just didn't feel like he needed to elaborate.
He never saw the point of being verbose at all. That was probably why the other title-obsessed twits over in the Spellwriter Guild had mockingly (most of them, at least) called him "Tarson the Terse."
The blue-robed interrogator wrung his hands in annoyance, spittle flying off his lips into Tarson's stringy-haired stubble-dotted poker face. "What the hell do you mean, MAYBE?"
Tarson shrugged, despite the binds tying him making it hard for him to lift his arms. "Maybe. I didn't know what I was doing. I also knew the magic. And how it worked. So yes, MAYBE I knew what I was doing then. And MAYBE you could step back a little. Your spit's on my face." He wiped the spittle off by rubbing his face on his shirt, with some difficulty.
The blue-robed interrogator was seething now. "I get sent here to wring out information from you, and you're over here giving me this...this...facade of stone-facedness! Do you have any idea what chaos you've caused with your single-word spell? Do you? DO YOU, TARSON THE TERSE? Perhaps we should call you Tarson the Twit in the records."
Little did he know, the interrogator had created the perfect opening for Tarson.
"TARSON THE TWIT, DO YOU PLEAD GUILTY TO THIS OFFENSE, AND ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT?" The interrogator wasn't paying attention to Tarson's smug grin. Good. "ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME AS YOUR SUP-"
"NAY." The powerful word, the one-word spell, the thing that had caused the upheaval of the Guild and brought the fundamental principle of magic to (almost) everyone, erupted in a forceful burst from Tarson. "Nay" could mean anything. It was most commonly used as an expression of denial, of rejection...
...in this case, "NAY" became a rejection of punishment.
By the time the blue-robed interrogator got to his senses, Tarson's binds were scrap metal, and Tarson the Terse was long gone.
[First time posting here, don't know how it'll work out]
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The rules of verbosity. I cracked them, in solitude.
Not only the *number of words* matter; but I found that the *number of letters* also did.
Because all spells were such verbose, nobody cracked this code. The power gets higher and higher, the fewer words you use; if you go to the letters, the power is astonishing.
And yet nobody knows that, but me. And that is how it should have been, for I found a different thing.
You see, rules are meant to be followed for a reason. Turns out that, less words mean less desirability. The Grand Mages probably knew that, but the fools that came after them could not understand their teachings.
But still - they formed groups, guilds, and were separated from society, lost in their big towers and schools of magic, blinded by power. They though that they were *too good* for society;
Nothing is further from the truth.
Society *didn't want* them. Could not *tolerate* them. And magic, somehow, made that happen, poisoning their minds.
And again, only I know. Because I cracked the code. But nobody will hear me, for the rules that bind them also bind me.
At the village below, I hear people using magic. Simple spells, like "Light this fire" to cook something, or "create serene light" to light their tales at night. Because of this rule, the village have hundreds of people; the mages could not gather a group of ten before betrayal and murder occur.
And now, another group of people come to me. I try to explain to them, like always. They cast their spells - "greater lightning", "lightning bolt", "flame attack". I evade it easily with only a single word: **evade**.
They are not amused. I **paralyze** them, and try to talk, again. They don't listen. They call me a liar, a thief, a fool. Even I have limits, but I don't want to hurt them.
Somebody cast **greater dispel**. The rules of magic are indeed absolute, because a group of twenty mages is now working on a single group attack; one I could not survive.
I won't lie - I cry a little, for I know what is going to happen. Before they could end their work, I simply utter:
**I**
A single word spell that gave me absolute power over them. They drop to the ground, overwhelmed by the raw power of that single spell, one that can make me move mountains and evaporate oceans; the absolute unit of a spell.
Before I can counter my own magic, the color drains from their faces. Like always.
I simply carry the bodies to the cavern below, filled with the corpses of other mages - other fools that met their destines before these.
And yet, I know I am the biggest fool; but there's no way back anymore.
Hopefully they will learn their lessons, and stop coming after me. And then I can finally leave alone, in peace, until the end of my days.
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jrtnm3a
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jrtekkq
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[WP] You have lost count of how many time travelers have come to kill you. You don't know why they came and at this point you don't care. You will become what they fear simply out of spite.
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In the beginning, it was disorienting. The first time a figure clad in sleek, futuristic armor materialized in my living room, wielding an energy weapon and spouting some gibberish about me being "a blight on the timeline," I was shocked. By the fifth attempt, I had developed a strategy: duck, run, hide, then surprise them from behind. By the twentieth, it had become a bothersome routine.
With each intruder, I grew more adept, more resilient, and ironically, more dangerous. My humble abode gradually transformed into a fortress, rigged with traps designed to counteract the various techniques employed by my time-traveling assassins. I salvaged their technology, studying and adapting it for my own use. I became a self-taught expert in future tech, learning to harness its power to protect myself.
The reasons for their relentless pursuit remained a mystery. What could I, a simple software engineer, possibly do to disrupt the timeline so drastically? Whatever their prophecy, it seemed my destiny was to be a menace. So, a menace I became. But not because of fate, rather, out of sheer spite.
I began to experiment. Using the future technology, I delved into the secrets of time travel, exploring its mechanics, and learning to manipulate it. I became an anomaly within the timeline, a factor the time travelers hadn't accounted for in their perfect prophecy.
In time, I managed to turn the tables. I started traveling to the future, appearing out of nowhere, catching the time travelers off-guard. I saw their cities, grand and cold, filled with people who lived life through screens, detached from reality. I saw their fear, their apprehension at the mere mention of my name.
With each visit, I left my mark. Not by causing destruction, but by spreading ideas. Ideas that were considered dangerous in their time. Concepts of freedom, of questioning, of not accepting everything served by the ruling authorities. I became a symbol of rebellion, a beacon for those who dared to think differently.
So, they sent more assassins, their fear growing as I continued to influence their timeline subtly. I was not the villain they had painted me to be. I didn't threaten their world with destruction or violence. I threatened it with change.
Their prophecy had become self-fulfilling. In trying to stop me, they created the very threat they feared. They expected a monster, a destroyer, but I became something far more terrifying to them. I became an instigator of revolution.
In the end, I was no longer the hunted. I was the hunter, and I held their timeline in my grip. Each assassin they sent only added to my resolve. I was going to change their future, not out of some divine destiny, but out of spite. After all, they started this. I was merely playing along.
\-----
if u enjoyed this, please read more of the stuff i wrote. i post some of it on r/epistemecognito
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I looked down at the dead man’s body as I held his identity paper in my hand. I can’t remember how many times this has happened, a stranger apparently from the future has somehow travelled back in time with the specific aim of killing me.
I was done. This was the final straw. One of them killed my mother by mistake when I was a boy and the media tried to blame my poor father. Another came for me when I was in high school, and another after I joined the military. More and more come each year. Fortunately I’m still alive and serving thanks to the skills they taught me in the army.
Sometimes more than one of these people come in a year and I have to kill them. I have killed women as well as men as they’re ranks contain both. It’s me or them and apparently there is no shortage of them in the future.
I didn’t ask for this, but I hoped I could do something about it. My poor old ma, dead before she was 50 because some asshole has a time machine. Why?
I glared down at the futuristic identification card through tears. I missed her. I missed her so much. “These bastards won’t get away with this.” I swore to myself.
As I read the ID I went through all of the details for any information I could use. Name, age, weight, height, nothing ever really helped aside from two of the categories.
The first was the birth date. This was how I discovered they were time travelers. Every single one of these monsters was born after 2350. I assume that’s the year when time travel was invented.
The second category was religion. They all had the same religion which was weird to me at first, but I think now it’s a clue. Knowing this about them gives me an edge. Because it’s a religion that I know because it is in my time too. They have to be descended from people in my time, they just have to be. Perhaps I can save myself, or a version of myself, this utter torment of a life that I have had, being mercilessly hunted by these monsters from the future.
If they want to come for me, let them come. For the rest of my life I expect these monsters to hunt for me, my only chance is to fight back, to reclaim some of my life if it’s the last thing I do. I want revenge. I want them to burn. But I can’t get to them. I can’t travel through time and I don’t know where or how they are organized and how strong they are. It’s one against who knows how many?
I folded the ID card in half and threw it on the deceased man, spitting on him for good measure. I don’t have to go to them.
“You’re ancestors are here somewhere and I’m going to find them.” I said to the dead body. “I’m going to find them and I’m going to kill them because of you.”
Because of all of you, I thought as I turned to walk away.
I stepped out of the alley into the sunlight and held my hand up to shelter my eyes from the glare. My mind was set. I had a plan. I was going to get my revenge for the people who had ruined my life, murdered my mother and stalked my nightmares. They will pay for their crimes, and if not them, then their ancestors. I don’t care anymore. I want payback.
A friend of mine called to me from across the square, noticing I had been missing for a while. As I jogged back to the group another friend spoke.
“What did that guy want Adolf?”
“I don’t know.” I replied.
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lv27cu7
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lv25yr9
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[WP] "Why do we make laser grids like these?" "What do you mean?" "I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"
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"Why do we make laser grids like these?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean instead of a messy random arrangement of lasers that a nimble intruder might be able to jump through, why not a simple grid wall with no gaps large enough to allow a person to pass through?"
"Messy? Nimble? Lad. To get through this grid you'd have to be in extraordinary physical condition and wearing extremely tight clothing in order to pull off feats of acrobatics. Now, did you also notice the security camera grid? Now that's an impenetrable coverage, not an inch of this hallway is out of sight."
"So this is for voyeurism?"
"Yep. It's hilarious. Because remember, an intruder would have to get IN, grab the item being secured, then get OUT the same way and boy is it great to watch them try. The looks of hope and determination on their faces, the revealing clothing, it's great. And tell me, have you ever tried to actually pick up the secured container?"
"The briefca...oh. Pressure plate under it, and so the alarm gets set off when they move it, I take it?"
"Ha! Not at all, although it would be easy to build that into the stupid plinth it is on."
"GPS tracker, then?"
"No, no, but you're close. It is definitely something IN the case. Go on, try it."
"Uhhhh... paint pack? Handle taser?
"Try it! I assure you nothing will spray, bite, stab, shoot, or shock you."
"Ok I WHOOOMPH!"
"Fifty pounds of lead weights sewn into the lining. Why did you think Brutus is the only guard allowed to take it upstairs, that meathead is the only one of us that can pick it up without changing expression and making it obvious to enemy spies. That's why they can get in but not out."
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Nish stared over at his coworker, Yim, like the girl was a dumb, golden-haired rock.
"One, 'cause those are expensive as hell to make, and two, because these things ain't even guarding against a normal person."
With the help of Yim, he set the laser grid on the conveyor belt, and then flicked her forehead.
"Idiot. Do you even listen when the Miser talks?"
Yim just swatted at him and snapped back, "Of course I listen when the Miser talks! Sometimes I just don't get enough sleep and get really bored, okay!?"
Nish rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how Yim slept whenever she could and how it was entirely her fault for not listening to the Miser.
The Miser of this production facility was Jeei, a being that Nish would call ethereal if it weren't for the Miser's obliviousness. Sometimes Nish wondered how Jeei got this job. Misers like them usually got fired off the bat and replaced with a stricter overwatcher, but they hadn't. Perhaps management was just overlooking it. Like they did to their employees' paychecks.
Anyway, Nish and Yim just grabbed another grid and walked over to the belt.
"So, I forgot what the Miser said on the grids. Uhm, what *do* the grids guard against?"
Nish gave her a deadpan look before answering. "Eccskulls."
Yim tilted her head to the side. "Those big blobs?"
Nish nodded. "The laser grids cut them up into uneven pieces so that they can't move so quickly."
"...aren't they acidic though?"
"The lasers solidify most of the Eccskull pieces."
Yim stared down before nodding like it all made sense now and helped Nish put yet another grid on the belt.
"So when are you buying me the ring?"
Nish scoffed and shook his head. "The day management finally gives me an actual paycheck will be the day I buy a ring for you."
Yim gave him a glare in response.
Out of context but when I was writing this scene I only thought-see them as chibi characters lol
Also Yim and Nish are an engaged couple if you can't tell.
Edit: okay I really enjoyed making this one lol just edited this to put this here XD
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luz33db
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luz2yb2
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[WP] Youve been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour
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It’s my first night on the job, and you can never be too careful. Phone, full battery. Headphones, on. Snacks, plentiful. Flashlight… at home.
Under the dim moonlight, the shadows begin to dance. Voices, whether inside my head or drifting on the winds, enter my mind. A hum, a bit too high and a bit too loud to be human, surrounds me. It’s going to be a long night.
It’s ironic now that I think about, in order to be among the living I have to walk among the dead, and they don’t intend to leave me be. The chill running down my spine is proof that they’ve made themselves known.
Known, the word lingers in my mind, and after six or so stones, overcome by a curious impulse, I examine it’s markings. Darlene Jackson, 1932-1988, a woman of many talents, judging by the epitaph, several paragraphs long. But I dare not linger, time is money after all, 80 dollars to the hour to be precise.
I peek at the next couple of tombstones, William Wallace, a butcher, Miranda Myers, seamstress, John Doe, blank.
Blank? And I don’t mean empty. The stone literally says blank, coupled with the frankly uninspired name I do a double, no triple take. What’s more is that the casket is high and hollow, with its lid peeking above the surface. I could just ignore this oddity, but the tedium of, 4 hours and 26 minutes work is starting to bore me. I peer through a small crack in the casket to behold the man’s skeleton, utterly standard at a glance, yet strangely fascinating. My headphones cut out, replaced by a strange sort of static, and then, a voice. “Young man, would you like to hear a story?” Honestly I would, anything to make the hours go by faster, and as I continued on, his voice followed.
I’m here to tend to the dusty, woeful, dead as they moan their tales through the fog, and for 80 dollars an hour, I might as well listen to what they have to say.
|
I start my shift by collecting trash.
You would be surprised how much trash gathers in a graveyard...
Like come on kids, teens, and other peeps...can't you go to a mall?
I slowly collect the trash with the stick, as I see some cans floating in the distance.
"Make yourself useful, and put it in a trashcan!", I shout...then dodge, as the cans come swooshing towards me.
"Tsk...child...so easily upset.\*, I mutter, as I pick up the cans.
Oh...yeah, forgot to mention...this graveyard is haunted.
After collecting the trash, I start cleaning the graveyards from ash, and whatever the visitors have left.
Especially the crypts...some...some couples think it's a good place...to you know....
As I walk I hear whispers, and shadows flickering just out of my sight.
I turn around, and whistle.
"Guys, already told ya, if you want something speak up!", I said, and the whispers quieted down.
Yeah...it's terrifying, I am already covered in sweat, despite it being the dead of the night...but...
It's 80 bucks an hour!
I saw ghouls, ghosts, and the noises....God...or Satan whatever created them.
At first it was bad, I wanted to give up, leave, say "I quit", and just go find something normal.
But somehow I managed to hold out for my first paycheck...which changed everything.
50 hours a week...do the math...
I paid half my mortgage in advance, bought fancy meat, and bought fancy clothes for my wife and daughters.
Damned I be, maybe, and I might get possessed...
But...for 80 bucks and hour...it's worth it.
Also...it's not that bad.
Some ghosts, and spirits or whatever, they just want someone to "see" them.
If they make a noise, or move something, and I start conversing with them...they stop.
Of course I have to say stuff they want to hear like: "Yeah, life is still the same...\* or "Must suck being a ghost, but at least you aren't in Hell.\* stuff like that.
Until now, I met only one ghost who can take on a proper form, and talk properly, and damn...is she creepy.
"Is that so...I am creepy?", a voice echoes in the crypt I as cleaning.
"Old woman, stop doing this!", I shout, as giggles echo, and slowly fade away.
"80 bucks an hour John....it's 80 bucks an hour...\*, I mutter, trying to not swear at the ghosts...
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jd628gr
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jd5reju
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[WP]Walking into a flower shop and slamming down money on the counter, "How do i passively aggressively say fuck you in flower"
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He’d walked into the flower shop, his shoulders hunched with anger, pale and tired. A subtle bouquet needed to be created, tied on the left and delivered with disdain.
‘Yellow chrysanthemums’ he cried, ‘she’s told me she despised me. Geraniums! She called me an idiot to have loved her. And lavender, for her paranoid distrust. Don’t forget the orange lilies, for her hatred.’
He quieted for a moment. ‘And add snapdragons, for deception, a single yellow rose for her infidelity, a poppy for my grief, and a spray of forget me nots.’
The shopkeeper noted ‘Subtle, sir. Any other symbols of floral distaste? Henbane? Evening primrose? A stem of hollyhocks? A striped carnation?’
‘Well, that combination would be rude. I wouldn’t want to send a black dahlia, would I?’
|
"...Exactly how pass-"
"Yes." Was all the man said and Mel blinked at the pile of hefty bills on the counter.
"Ah... thorny roses?"
"All of them." Another blink.
"I-"
"All. Of. Them." The man leaned over the counter, eyes bloodshot and one lid twitching.
"...One moment." Mel was quick to retreat to the backroom. Popping off some quick calculations in his head, the man did indeed have enough money for Mel to wrap up several thick bouquets and bring them out to the front. Before Mel could ask if he needed help carrying them the man scooped them all out, leaving the flower shop owner to stare and then shrug as he counted up the cash.
It wasn't any of his business, right?
\----
"I need the angriest plant you have."
"...Pardon?" Mel stared at the woman in confusion and she slapped down a thick wad of bills onto the counter.
"Not roses. Do you have any cactuses?"
"Yes, one moment..." He had a feeling now was definitely not the time to point out it was "cacti" given that she had the same look on her face as the man from yesterday...
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jd6hcnd
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jd5utej
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[WP]Walking into a flower shop and slamming down money on the counter, "How do i passively aggressively say fuck you in flower"
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"How do I passive aggressively say fuck you in flower?!" The man opposite of the counter spoke, his words fast, painful memories still fresh in his mind. He followed up his words with a fifty dollar bill slammed on the counter.
The florist, an older, mustached man, did not look up from his paper catalogue on the counter. Did not even flinch at the request, only slid the fifty his way and continued to flip in now shared silence.
"You want a subtle fuck you, the kind only you'd understand the weight of, or a real *fuck you*, the kind someones mom would feel?" His words came out almost lazy. A simple response for a simple request.
"I uhhh- well I want them to get it. Somewhere in between the two?"
"You could give em lillies if they have a cat. Cat eats it, gets real sick, maybe dies" The florist shrugged. " Seems like an innocent mistake on your part. Hell, they might even blame themselves."
"Well her cat is my cat too so, I'd rather not kill Carl."
"Hmph?" The florist made a noise between a grunt and a question. "Didn't tell me this thing was domestic. Alright well those roses over there are pretty shitty. Looks good at first but give em a day or two and they'll be deader than your relationship if you go with the lillies."
The customer thought on it for a moment, staring over to the corner with the bucket of lightly withered roses.
"Or, if you want something less thought provoking and more direct-" The florist cut in, pressing something under the counter. Between two shelves of floral arrangements on the far wall a new, much older shelf appeared, sliding between the two like a chaperone between kids at a middle school dance. Across the top a handwritten label read: *For the asshole in your life xoxo*
On the shelves were rows featuring much less pretty looking things. Spiky leaved, blackened things; oozing, bloody things; heinous plants with devious shapes and sizes.
The florist looked up from his catalogue and raised an inviting eyebrow.
"Well I want to keep the relationship, just want to really stick it to her, ya know? Maybe something less murdery."
The florist's face dropped and he repressed the button, returning the shelf back with a series of sad mumbles.
"Well you know" The florist continued. "I am a relationship counselor too", he flipped his tag, which now read *Larry Bland: Florist, Marriage Counselor, Notary...*
"First sessions free." He offered.
"Lets go with the roses, one dozen, red...and a session of counseling on Wednesday."
"Good choice. Want a bag with that?"
"Can you rip the bottom so they fall out on her?"
"Wouldn't be much of a florist if I didn't." Larry said as he tore a long rip at the bottom.
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"Sir this is a Home Depot. We only sell potted plants and seeds." I frown, look down at counter, frown some more, and return my gaze to his face.
"My offer still stands." He slaps the fat stack of bills on the table. "Fucker."
"Hey, that was uncalled for." I say, "Do you want my help or not?"
He sighs, "Sorry, rough day. So? How do I passively aggressively say FUCK YOU in flower. Not that I was saying FUCK YOU to *you*, I just need to say FUCK YOU to enunciate that FUCK YOU is the message I need to convey to the person who is not you."
My lips purse into a line. "If your goal is to confuse me as to whether or not I should be offended, you've succeeded."
"WELL?"
"Uh, I'm just a cashier, but I guess something with lots of thorns, a rose?"
"Thanks." The man walks away and I return to staring at the wall. It's 7pm. Just one more hour of watching paint dry.
"Hey."
I look up, it's that man again. His scruffy, unkept hair sways energetically as he pounds the large pot of roses onto the counter. It shatters.
"Uh. You're going to have to pay for that." I scratch my head. "Sir."
"Damn right I will." He sprays one dollar bills at me like a printer playing 52 pickup. The leaf green slips settle in an unorganized mess across the several pounds of dirt covering the counter and floor.
"Have a good day, Mr. Not a Fucker." The man throws the last of the bills into the air and leaves the building without even bothering to take the flower he just bought.
I turn to Emma, who is standing next to me holding her sides and shaking silently, suppressing what I assume to be a laugh. I frown some more. This has got the be the oddest shift I've ever been on.
"So... what the hell was that about?" I say when she finally composes herself.
"That guy has been trying to get my number all week, I told him you were my boyfriend 5 minutes ago." She smiles, I kind of expected something to happen, but not *this*.
"That's... not nice of you."
"Eh, I figured you could handle yourself if anything happened, Mr. Star Judo Athlete." She punches me lightly in the side. Despite her small frame and my built stature, her bony knuckles drive a painful impression into my muscular fiber.
"You know I haven't been in a competition since college. I'm way out of practice."
"I... wouldn't mind some practice with you," She says with a soft smile, then looks away for some reason.
"Nah, our frames are too far apart, you'd be in a different weight class, wouldn't really be good practice." I shrug.
She punches me again, "Stupid."
"Yes yes," I sigh.
"So, uhm, do you want to try that new Sushi bar down the street with me after work..?" She kicks her feet lightly while sitting on the counter.
"Nah, I'm on a calorie controlled diet. I already have my dinner prepared at home."
She pouts, punches me again and stomps away. Did I do something to make her mad? Ah oh well, she'll get over it, it didn't seem like she was really mad. Back to watching paint dry.
___
A/N: 😶
/r/Unexpected_Works
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kfajjcv
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kfaj3vb
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[WP] Your workers always ask “Why do you put a self destruct button on your inventions?” Tired of their questioning, you decide to explain why it’s perfectly rational.
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"Normal scientists iterate. They work out the kinks one at a time, they have 'steps' in the process. They test, and test, and hypothesize and test some more and its all incredibly boring don't you think?
"Now a MAD Scientist...well I don't have the time or attention span to go through all of that. But what I do have is a bit of caution. You see the powers I'm working with could very well destroy planets, or reality, or just the Tri-State Area... so to counter the chance of something going wrong and me being unable to stop whatever invention it is that I've invented from destroying everything, I add a failsafe.
"This button here, disconnects, short circuits, or blows up the device before it can runaway from me and destroy everything!"
The Mad Doctor nods to himself, "I may be MAD, but I am not an idiot!"
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My workers always ask, “Why do you put a self-destruct button on your inventions?” I’m always too busy to answer. One day, Jolie approached me as I sat and drew blueprints at my workbench. She popped the question. I turned my swivel chair to her. “It’s a trap for the hero. They’ll see the button with the label, and they’ll want to press it. When they do, it’ll blow up in their face!”, I told her, smiling. “Wow, that actually makes sense, but why did you say ‘the hero?’ You have one nemesis, and it’s Dark Man.” “Oh, that’s what you think, Jolie. I have multiple.” “Who?” “Well…there’s Sam…” “Sam?” “Yeah.” “They don’t have a hero name?” “No.” “Why haven’t I seen this Sam person?” “He has invisibility. Duh.” She squinted at me and said, “Hmm.” I smiled nervously. “Alright”, she responded before walking off. I turned back to the workbench. It was time to start building, but I didn’t see my wrench. I had it right here. Weird. I looked to my right and saw it on the floor. I walked to it, but I was suddenly struck against the left side of my head. I fell on my bottom. A man’s voice said, “Haha! You’re no match for the mighty Sam!”
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k6jha4m
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k6i0um8
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[WP] You are isekai'd into a world of magic, you are the hero, at the request of the kingdom, you defeat the demon king, destroy the abyss armies, and even slay the dragon lord, all under promise that you will get to return home. Ultimately, they tell you, they don't know how to send you back.
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"It's okay," I said, sadness in my voice.
The King, Grand Duke, General Merdock, Grand Wizard Lupin, and all the nobles were stunned by my words.
"I will bestow upon you a dukedom and territory at..." the King quickly began, but I waved my hand.
"No, it is not appropriate to bestow territory upon me, my King," I said. "I have no talent for management."
"If so... I will hand my daughter to you," the King said.
"No, it is not suitable. In my world, I am an ordinary person. If I marry the princess, it will make both of us suffer," I refused again.
"But it is not fair to you," the King debated.
"If it were me ten years ago, I might have been angry. But after living in this world for ten years, I think we must look at the bigger picture," I persuaded them. "Now, nearly all threats to the kingdom are gone, and we must secure this peace."
Everyone fell silent, listening to my words.
I slowly took off my hero armor and God's sword.
"What are you doing?" the King trembled.
"As I said, nearly all threats are gone, but one threat still remains," I pointed at my chest, "My identity as a hero."
Everyone's eyes focused on me, but I quickly spoke.
"General Merdock, I remember that your son, Lothar, is in love with the princess. I think he is the most suitable person for this task," I said. "Give Lothar this armor and sword and let him assume the identity of a hero."
Everyone in the court hall was stunned, including the brigade of Imperial archers on the upper balcony.
"But all the work is the result of your hard work over ten years," General Merdock said with an unbelieving expression.
"Not all of it is my work," I replied, "it's everyone's work."
"Many soldiers lost their lives."
"Many nobles sent their sons and daughters to the battlefield."
"Many civilians suffered from this war," I said.
"If someone tries to use the violation of promise to sow rebellion, it will harm the kingdom. So the best way is to bestow the hero's identity upon Lothar and hand him princess and territory."
"I've wronged you," the King spoke.
"Do not think too much. As a king, your duty is to stabilize the kingdom, not to please a single hero," I said. "Can I make a request?"
"Say it," the King said.
"I want to go and settle in Caverna village. Nine years ago, I traveled there to exterminate a bat monster, and I believe their crop output is not optimal," I explained. "I want to go there and see how to improve their crops and farming. Lothar, can you speak for me?"
"My King, he has talent in crop and farming techniques. Every time we rescue a town or village, he gives them advice for farming," Lothar said from the upper balcony amidst a group of battle mages.
I walked out of the palace with sweat on my back, but luckily, I had prepared for this. I had anticipated it for a long time. The King had never tried to send me home, and they hadn't revealed any information about how to send me back.
Today, as I entered the palace, I saw Imperial archers, battle mages, and Imperial swordsmen all over the balcony.
In this world, I was a mere outsider, a chess piece in their attempt to rid the kingdom of demons. Territory, rank, and nobility were controlled and balanced between the aristocrats. They would kill me if I requested any one of those.
I returned to the inn, packed my belongings, and prepared for departure.
Unbeknownst to the King and the aristocrats, the Hero's Identity was not a secret. Every time I suggested farming techniques from my world to the civilians, they already knew my identity, that I came from another world.
And Lothar, my friend, or rather, the King's spy, had a presence in my party, so everyone knew that he was not the hero.
I could only imagine the expressions on people's faces when they received the announcement that Lothar was the hero and I was expelled from the palace.
Right now, I must go to Caverna village, retrieve saltpeter from the cave, buy sulfur, make gunpowder, teach people farming techniques, and work to improve the quality of their lives. I'll also wait for the right time for rebellion.
I'm certain that people will be resentful when they hear that their Hero's identity has been stolen.
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The demon king was at the bottom of my foot looking at me with fear and terror in his eyes, good the same he made people fear for their own lives. The same fear that went through my companions faces as they fell to him.
"You'll end up just like me," The demon king spat blood out on the ground, "It's a constant cycle, violent cycle." His fading emerald eyes meet a shiny quartz. His hand extended towards a broken pocket watch that was on the ground but before he could reach it. I stepped on his hand with my reinforced boot crushing it instantly. His screams were agonizing as I shoved the pocket watch in my pocket.
"Just go to hell where you belong." I scoffed as I brought up my spear and pierced his heart sick of hearing the excuses, pulling my weapon out with a gush of blood. Not bothering to pick it up all the way I decided to drag it across the floor causing sparks as I left the demon king's castle.
The wind kicked up beneath my feet as I slowly started to float before it fully circulated my body as I blasted toward the kingdom. Due to the wind being one of my magical proficiencies, it didn't take any longer than fifteen minutes before I landed at the castle and opened the door without any warning.
"I killed him for you." My voice boomed as I pulled out the broken pocket watch that was infamously told about throughout the lands. Deciding there is no point but to cut to the chase, "Send me home already, I miss my friends and family."
The guards all chuckled nervously and my eye traced over to one of the knights quickly leaving the room, doesn't concern him. A nasally voice that sounded like a pig spoke for the first time rang in my ears, "Well about that we don't know how exactly but if you give us time. We are positive that we can figure something out."
"How many?" That was my first thought, a constant cycle. "How have heroes have you summoned?" I took a step forward the ground cracking beneath my foot, some of the guards decided to do the right thing and leave. Some remained stupid and stayed by the king's side, "How many of those heroes failed?" One of the guards attempted to charge me but I simply formed an air bullet and pierced his chest. "How many of them succeeded just to learn they can't get sent back?"
The king was silent for a moment before he hesitantly spoke, "1375...that's how many demon kings we had."
Rage. The wind kicked up around me as I felt my anger grow, those companions of mine who fought a war they shouldn't have to fight because of incompetence. People die every day because of these rulers who don't think before they act. It's their fault why they constantly have problems.
"Daddy! I heard ruck-" It was the princess she is beautiful. "I heard a lot of noise coming in here and wanted to make sure you were okay." She gasped as she saw the corpse that was on the ground before looking back up at me. "Mr. Hero did you do this?"
I smiled, a cruel smile on my face. Before I formed a massive air bullet the tip of my pointer finger and blasted her head off, the blood and brain matter splattered over the throne room and the king. The *princess was beautiful*.
The king cried in outrage, "Guards! Get him!"
My other magical proficiency was water. Water and wind are a perfect combo, and I formed a wind ball with water inside it sending it forward. Before the guards could even react I split the ball and sent the remaining guards flying to the wall crushing them instantly. Casually strolling forward I stood in front of the king, his breath was quickening. There was heat racing behind me I didn't bother turning my head around as I raised an air bubble encasing the both of us.
"Do you want to know a quote that I'm sure crossed every single hero or heroine and demon king or queen mind?" I asked as I placed the tip of my spear against her throat.
"What?" Was all the king could say resigned to his fate.
"You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain, fitting quote right?" The spear went across the king's throat as his hand instinctually reached out and covered it. My hand grabbed the pocket watch that the old hero had and I looked at it, a small frown appearing on my face.
It was an older man with brown hair and radiant green eyes holding another man with black hair with beautiful brown eyes. How many lives have been ruined by this land? No matter, I will simply find a solution to leave. Heroes or heroines, all of them will fall or will join me. They do not have a choice like I wasn't giving one.
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kfup71v
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kfu070a
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[WP]Humans, only humans would be so insane that when they find the corpse of a god, they would look upon that vista of eldritch flesh and think "I wonder if I could eat that?"
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“Captain’s log: it has been twelve days since the crew has had a proper meal. Things are getting - tense. There have been a few fight - tussles - really over food. Some treat that a crew member bought at port and squirrelled away in their quarters.
“I don’t know much much longer we can survive. Water recycling is good. Air recycling is good. Power levels are perfect. Just the main engine that won’t light - making us drift through the void.
“The lack of food is going to do us in - assuming we don’t do each other in.”
I run my hand through my hair as I let out a deep sigh. Twelve days without food. Forty days adrift in the void.
I have a good crew. A disciplined crew. But forty days is a long, long time to float, pray and hope.
Sitting in my ready room chair I scan over the logs for the last forty days. Each getting a little most desperate than the last. Each telling part of the story of how we are slowing becoming more and more savage.
Beep
“Captain! You should come to the bridge,” my first officer says over the comms.
I press the button to reply - hope welling up inside me. I try to wrestle it down. Push it into a reasonable container.
“On my way number one.”
A couple of deep breaths are all the luxury I can take. I hope it is enough to look composed once I hit the bridge.
“Report!” I bark as I strut on to the bridge and take my chair.
“I appears to be a… being…,” number one says uncertainly.
The view screen is showing a large, mostly, naked man - slowly tumbling in space. Four big muscular arms. A chain mail lion cloth. Knee high boots.
“Looks to be a being from a sword age world flowing in space. Odd. Log it and we will send someone back to investigate once we have connected with command,” I said briskly.
“Sir,” the science officer speaks up, “that being is almost ten thousand meters tall.”
“Ten thousand? That is impossible….”
“I have checked and double checked,” the science officer said meekly.
“How far out are we?”
“At our current rate of tumble we will pass by the being in six hours. We will come very close - within fifty meters - but won’t collide,” the science officer says.
“Life signs?”
“Negative sir, whatever it is - it is dead by everything we understand life to be,” the entire bridge crew was silent. Just listening to the exchange between the science officer and I.
“Sir! I think I know what it is… sorry… who it is,” my tactical officer said uncertainly.
I gave him the raised eye brow. The tactical officer is great at what she does but has a few - odd- ideas when she attempts to branch out beyond her specialty.
“There is a legend, sir, from the V’hery people. Of two gods that fought an epic battle among the stars. They battled with swords and knives, fists and feet, fighting to be the god of the V’hery people. One of the gods was described to have four arms, a great sword, and wear nothing but a chain mail lion cloth.” She looked up at me expectantly.
“You think we are looking upon a dead god, floating through space?” I said with a big more distain than I should have. “Sorry lieutenant. I don’t believe in gods.”
I turned back to the view screen. We will pass with in fifty meters of the giant.
“The shuttles still have a little fuel in them, right?”
“We sucked everything we could out of them. They could manage maybe a ten minute flight with what we could get,” the science officer reported.
“Could we get a crew over to the body, harvest some meat from the leg, and get back to the ship?” I asked, almost of myself. My crew was starving and here was a giant source of raw meat. Frozen in space - it still looked fresh - like it had died but moments ago.
Every eye on the bridge was glued to me. Some in horror. Some in wonder. All in hunger.
“I think we could captain,” the science officer reported. “With what the shuttles have left for fuel and what we have space for in cargo bay 3 - we could bring over about a tonne of meat.”
I nodded. A tonne of fresh meat would keep us going for long enough to be found. Cargo bay 3 is open to the vacuum of space. We can just trim off and consume what we need - a little at a time.
“Make it happen people! The clock is ticking!”
The bridge jumped into action. Everyone knowing what they need to do.
“Captains log: it has been five days since we captured almost a tonne of flesh from the dead being in space. We have run every test we can think of on the meat.
“There are unidentifiable elements and compounds in the meat. The science teams aren’t sure if we can safely eat it or not.
“At this point - it isn’t safe to \*not\* eat something. We have a few volunteers willing to try the meat. Two privates from the lower decks.
“I am remiss to let them try it. I can’t help but wonder if it should be me. I should be the first to taste it. Be the first to see if we can consume it.
“Of course, number one isn’t thrilled by that idea. At this point we have no choice. Either we eat it - or we die.”
|
The humans were the only beings known to remain remotely sane in the face of a god, even in a stasis tomb - where the dead body is interred in a timelock to prevent decay, rot, disease or worse from festering.
It was common knowledge that gods don't need their bodies, and that some gods even deliberately draw followers of their faith to their remains, where they would be encouraged to behold as the remains transfigured into artifacts; books, weapons, armour, even 'simple' foods such as medicinal wines and bread - all of which would impart upon their designated acquirer the intrinsic understandings and intentions of their god.
For humankind, who had gradually fallen out of religions in the full-swing-terms of things, this was a shock, at first.
But the gods wanted nothing more than to have their dead forms be removed from the adjacent-realm-fortress-stations they were found in in this 'sacred manner'.
In this context, the humans have found the body of a goddess who had a likeness to their women, and a body whose proportions - before her body failed her - were functionally unrealistic or impossible to even move around, though when she lived, that was still possible.
We first believed gods to have forms we couldn't comprehend, until the humans imposed some kind of narrowing event upon them, with their final shapes having a clear influence derived from human-made anime and related creations.
Her stasis sarcophagus was non-euclidan like the rest.
Yet, despite the body being clinically dead, a human had the insanity to propose such.
That one human was thus dubbed 'the sacrifice'.
'The sacrifice' was left alone. The 'experiment' recorded.
The goddess did not expect direct worship to resurrect her. She accepted the 'sacrifice' as her first partner and disciple... And every woman remotely human-compatible in shape began to face the side-effects of a 'bonus' puberty; the physiques of the affected women overall became capable of overpowering man.
The reason we selected this specific historical event was because it was the first recorded time a god's vessel literally undied from direct, compassionate contact from someone who earnestly believed in them.
Not out of worship or faith, but from a 'place' more raw and heartening. A kind of 'belief' that was more a perception that what they beheld was dear to them.
...And evermore was the phrase of 'eating a god' corrupted by this goddess.
***We don't talk about that.***
Instead let us go to the few other circumstances where gods live-reacted to faithful in proximity. There was a giant 'cruise-if-fix' structure some humans rushed to during their onset of galactic communitary integration, claiming it to be a proof of their 'God' god.
When they entered, they were informed by a chorus of bioconstructs that their master is dead from age. They then called the rest of the faith to mourn him.
...Then their god asked them to unseal his corpse, whence it turned into a myriad of items - from bottles of wine and loaves of bread to bladed metal crowns, massive warhammers, and gothically-themed armour.
Among these 'gifts' were genetic research data that the humans would use to seek out his 'truest disciple' to kickstart some kind of imperial regime.
We had to alert the goddess to it... Except she said that man that god pointed out, was now her husband.
So I don't know if we should be scared or excited.
For one, the humans now have their Emperor, so we think.
For two, said Emperor is in the clutches of a goddess he's passionately calling 'mommy'.
And thirdly, the humans - even without their 'Emperor' - are testing these bio-augments.
...All of which aren't done in the way you may have read from the fiction his existence was reportedly inspired from; apparently, they just ate a medical paste that 'tastes of iron, butter, and coffee', went to sleep, then woke up with the attributes you'd expect of the fictional 'Astartes' - rending them compatible with the armour that was given by their biblical god and able to heft the armaments he intended them to wield.
Yet, somehow, much to the panic of human men, women in this matter were compatible with the process. A passionate conflict unfolded, resulting in the destruction of all of the aforementioned artifacts save for a book, the 'cruise-if-fix' station and it's haul, and those who were augmented.
The first scariest part? That damned book had a precise writeup of how to -grow- those augmentaries and tailor them to specific needs.
The second one? The humans are remodelling most of the less adult-human-shaped angels into adult-humanoid-shapes with angelic attributes thanks to some extranet site that decrees particularly eccentric conduct.
Eccentric conduct that probably was why the goddess is still in such joyous spirits...
The third one? The humans are -growing- the bread and wine in the 'cruise-if-fix' and have turned that thing into a capital city-station for numerous religions to congregate.
Our speculators are wondering if there's any other human-identifiable deities out here, but so far we've only found a giant ovoid with an indent - the domain of our beloved Drusella, queen of the hunt, hunter, and hunted and monster of-
***We. Don't. Talk. About. That.***
...It's really difficult to write any of this down without the threat of a deity going and trying to turn the whole article towards 'that rule' the goddess spoke of at every possible turn.
It's like they want us to integrate their genes and spawn a new pantheon for them! We're not a petri dish!
...Why are the humans so giddy about this?!
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lz72oos
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lz6wayr
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[WP] "Oh, you didn't actually trick that demon, they let you get away. They let a few people win every generation so the next lot of idiots think they have a chance of making a deal without losing their soul."
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I returned happily from the crossroads, content to continue my happy life.
I stopped by a fast-food restaurant, to get some takeout for my loving family.
There, a tall, blonde woman, dressed in a perfectly white suit sat next to me, as I enjoyed a coffee while waiting for my order.
I nodded to her.
"You didn't trick that demon, they let you get away.", she said, as her own coffee arrived.
I stared at her.
"W-what are you talking about?", I asked.
"You know. I know. Nobody else knows, so don't worry.
Xelethus allowed you back, with your soul intact intentionally...nothing to do with the "loophole", that you had 3 kids, instead of 1 child, as in the contract it is mentioned singularly not plural.", she said gently.
"I...", I didn't know what to say.
"If it was that easy to get out of a contract, fae and demons would have long died out.", she giggled.
I couldn't comprehend what was going on.
"Why would that...demon do that?", I asked.
"Because your deed will travel through the occult circles...
Prompting other idiots to think they have a chance of making a deal without losing their souls.", she said.
"But loopholes...", I started.
"Sure, there are some genius humans who manage to find ACTUAL loopholes, but come on...
It's you 20-30-40 something year old humans, versus millennia old demons and spirits...
Why do you humans always think you are smarter than them?", she rolled her eyes.
It was...It was true.
"He knew about the internet and everything...", I muttered.
She laughed.
"Of course he knew, 80% of inventions come due to small or big deals with demons.
10% is natural talent, and the last 10% is luck, and divine blessings...this last 10% contains the more important things though, like medicine and stuff.", she said.
I was frozen for a while, before...shrugging.
"But this means, that I truly got my soul back.", I said.
She nodded.
I smiled.
"That's all that matters.", I said, standing up, my name being called, my order was ready.
She just smirked at me.
"As if the fact that you colluded with a demon, doesn't leave any mark on you...", she said.
"Who are you?", I asked, getting done with her remarks.
"Ananke. We will meet again, sooner or later.
All of you end up meeting me.", she said, sipping her coffee.
I left, and had a nice dinner with my family...everything was great, yet...I started to lose the joy I felt before.
|
**Beware of Demonic Deals**
It has come to my recent attention that some townsfolk had been seeking demons to grant their wishes. Entering deals and contracts with such infernal entities. I understand that your friendly neighbourhood eldritch god and local deity Lord Elvari here can be a busy abomination, but that's no reason to jump ship over to demons, genies or the fae.
They have changed their tactics ever since stories of Monkey Paw wishes and cursed wishes have proliferated, especially with the advent of social media. Understanding that a constant stream of dead humans isn't good to lure more into their clutches, they now let you get away occasionally. To walk away with your wish granted. It is only so you may spread the word so more humans may come to them.
Think of it like a skinner box, but worse. If the food box was always poisoned, the birds will learn not to eat from there. If there was always food, the birds grow complacent. Now, if these less than benevolent entities made it random as to who got their wish, who were screwed over, and who walked away with nothing, humans find it...exciting.
Like a lucky draw. If you win, you walk away feeling like a millionaire. Maybe you even think the demon is your friend. It gave you what you wanted with no strings attached. Ah, but that's how it makes you hunger for more. Come back again. This is how they get your soul. And by then, the only thing making the rounds would be your initial success. Not your eventual doom. After all, you wouldn't be around to warn the others.
You ever heard of the story of the dime and the nickel?
There's a small boy who was always surrounded by bigger boys and called dumb, and other rude nicknames just outside an old barber's shop. One day, the barber stepped out to ask the small boy what was going on.
"They'd ask me which was larger," he said. "So, I'd take the nickel."
"That's dumb indeed," the barber remarked. "The dime is bigger."
"But if I took the dime, they'd stop playing the game and giving me free nickels."
And that's how it is. The demons siphoning your soul, bit by bit all while you think they're dumb for getting tricked by you. They're the ones getting the last laugh.
Yes, I've said it myself, dead tourists are bad for business. Thankfully, for all you humans, my business lies in monetary donations, tea and cakes. Not souls. This is why I don't have to resort to such underhanded methods but earnestly grant your wishes. Get your wishes from an entity that is empowered by blessed, living followers, not by stealing your soul. Or in the case of the Fae, by enslaving you and toying with you for as long, or short as they fancy.
Thank you for reading, and stay safe from supernatural scams!
Sincerely,
Your friendly neighbourhood eldritch, Lord Elvari of Innsmouth
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kbzpt9c
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kbzpsa7
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[WP] The royal family decide to visit the hero who saved the kingdom from destruction to honor him. Instead of living in a grand palace surrounded by treasure however, they find him in the fields of a small farm, humbly tending to his own crops.
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"A farmer will always return to his farm."
It was what my advisor had told me. My advisor is a wise man who found secrets to eternal life. It cost him much, but he became the best advisor I had ever known. When he told me that, I laughed.
Yet here I stand. The legendary hero who fought the lich king and his armies, faced evils I couldn't comprehend, even saved my beloved daughter, has created a beautiful farm. My wife, daughter, and son were not happy, but I knew that he deserved to be honored, regardless of how he chose to live.
When I came to him, he looked to me and bowed. I smiled and told him he could rise. Our conversation then began.
"Samuel. You have done much for this kingdom, and it's people. My gratitude upon thee."
"Ah, shucks. My king, I only did what any man ought to do."
"Yes, that is true. However, you still took up blade and shield despite knowing nothing of how to fight. You did this without being asked. When destiny called, you did not reject it like many others did."
"My king, I have to thank you for your kind words. It means the world to me. . . Here, let's get out of the sun. I have some wine."
Ah, now that's something we can all agree on. Upon entering his home, I see it is as humble as he is. The chairs are uncomfortable but sturdy. The meal we share is hardy and filling. My family judges him, for a man like this should be kissing their feet. I know better.
He knocks me from my train of thought. "I do hope you're enjoying the meal, my king. If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten something better set up for all of you."
I chuckle. "No need. This is what you fought for, and to dine with you is an honor to me."
"You flatter me. . . But I must ask, you are a busy man, how is it that you have the time to visit me?
Ah, even now, he thinks of everyone but himself. "We have come to honor you. You deserve rewards for your sacrifices and actions." At the mention of sacrifice, he touches an eyepatch he now wears.
". . . That's mighty kind of you."
"Nay, it is what you deserve. When you wish, please come visit us at the capital. I have come personally to express my thanks away from the people. So you know how genuine this is."
"Thank you, my king. . . Your words mean everything. I do not have the finest of cloth, but I will wear what I can so as to not embarrass the court."
I smile again. I still feel horrible for what our kingdom cost him. My wife and kids do not have the eye for detail I do. They do not see the wooden joints or the stiff movements have his hands and legs. They do not know he sacrificed not only his old life but his body too. They do not know he is half of what he was when all this started. After our short visit to state our intent, we leave.
They talk in the other carriage, so that I may ponder. They talk of how he was filthy and how he doesn't deserve the rewards I give. How is it that they are so ungrateful for the sacrifice of a young farmer.
Have we all become this ungrateful?
|
"What in the Gods?" The Prince of Exaladrynth asked. Looking around, the preteen prince wondered why this tiny patch of farmland situated in the center of four little hills was the address that the Legendary Hero, Johnathon Simenon, had chosen to live after the Third Demonite War was ended by his hand.
"Do not invoke their name without just cause, Feron." The Prince's elderly father, the King of Exaladrynth, stated. "Though I do agree. This is hardly the place a legendary hero with decades of adventuring history behind him would be expected to live."
"Hey! Over there! No solicitors, peddlers, or anything! I've got a lot of debts to pay off and I don't have time for chit chat!" A tall, scruffy man shouted from around the run-down shack in the center of the farm.
"Johnathon!?" The King shouted in shock. Johnathon was a legendary man! How could he have fallen into such a state!?
"Who's asking for him?" The tall man said as he slowly limped towards the royals. "I can go get him if you like."
"Get!?" The King asked concernedly.
"Is this not him?" Feron looked to his father.
"No. I know that frame and that face, even with as shallow and thin as it seems now... That's him." The King sighed. Then, stepping closer to Johnathon, he continued. "A great celebration is coming up soon. A festival in celebration of the ending of the Third Demonite War. We were hoping the legendary hero who ended the war would be the guest of honour."
"Ah! No thank you, your majesty!" Johnathon bent at the waist in a short bow, though with his height, he was still too tall to look anywhere but down to meet the King's gaze. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm dirt-poor. I couldn't show up and bring the mood down like that. And please, respect a hero's wishes, if only for a humble retirement."
"Doesn't seem like much of a retirement to me. You say you have a debt problem? I could absolve that for you, you've earned that much."
"No, no! Please don't!" Johnathon clapped his hands. "I know the treasury is thin these days, don't let an old veteran further pull them thinner."
"Gah..." The King sighed. "Very well. But remember, I'll always be grateful for your efforts. Anything you need. We will give you."
"Thank you. Your majesty..." Johnathon sighed and bowed again. As the two royals returned to their carriage and returned to the city, Johnathon turned around and headed inside. Over dirt floors and between rickety halls he slowly meandered, until he was sitting beside an old shelf with a carved star on the side. Humming a tune and tracing the star to it, the floor below him became illusory, and he fell through into a huge room filled with gold, games, statues of Simenon, luxury furniture, and of course, a bubbly hot spring, where a mermaid, water nymph, and dryad cheered in delight as their hero dropped in and ditched the cheap burlap patchwork clothes he'd had on in favor of red swim trunks and sunglasses. "Ah! Finally the feds are gone, and hopefully that means another week with you lovely ladies uninterrupted!"
"Forgive me, dea-uh... Babe. But why do you act like such a pauper when you have trillions of gold in your vaults?" The Dryad asked the man who'd long ago saved her forest from Demonites.
"Exaladrynth never taxes its poorest workers, it even pays the ones with too much debt to stay afloat! So every gold I can earn, I keep for life!"
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jqh0ydp
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jqgtnlw
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[WP] "So, Hero, who will you save; The love of your life, or the bus of innocent civilians?" "The civilians." "...What?" "I choose the civilians."
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"Why?"
"What do you mean why? What kind of psycho prioritises one life over many just because they happen to have feelings for that one? That's madness"
"But..."
The hero had stopped listening and sped off towards the bus. The villain was dumbfounded for a moment but rallied. He freed the hero's love to gloat.
"Well, there you have it. He cares about strangers more than you and..." he noticed his victim was smiling, staring after the hero happily.
"What the...are you *happy* he choose them over you?!"
"Of course I am. What, you think I'm such a nutcase I think my life is more important than a literal bus load of innocent people?"
The villain shuffled awkwardly "Well, I just think..."
"Oh my god you actually believe that, don't you? That's why you're a villain you idiot, you think your emotions are more important than the well being of others!" They scoffed in derision and turned toward the staircase to get of the roof "Grow up you looser"
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I stare at the man in shock and confusion. I look at his lover then back at him. "Do you not wish for your lover to survive? You would pick the civilians over them?!" I shout at him as I'm pissed off. His lover looks betrayed and hurt. As they looks into his eyes and tears going down their face and over the tape over their mouth.
"Look it's either lives of the many or life of one person. I'm picking the one which saves more lives," The hero tries to explain themselves but honestly I couldn't care. He would rather pick lives of strangers instead of the life of his lover.
"Then go! Leave here and go save those people. Go be the hero. Because I'm a villain but I'm not a monster," I yell at him to be a hero as who just sacrifices their lover. I was always right about heroes. They only want to be the hero and want fame, not care about anyone but themselves.
The hero Flys off and I untie their bonds and they collapse of the floor crying. I stare at them in sympathy. They are just on the ground crying until they seem to pass out due to their crying. So being the person that I am and decide to carry them to a bed. I pick them up and looks and their tear stricken face. Their eyes all puffy and red around them too. I carry them into my base and put them into a bed and just hope they aren't too broken from this.
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lnsqdmw
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lnrae7f
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[WP] You're the host of a popular talk show "I Was There" where vampires come to talk about historical events they were witnesses of. One day a vampire says something truly shocking.
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SHITPOST
"... and I believe that many in this world are made out to be far worse than they truly are. There are many people who deserve some praise, like Adolf Hitler"
You could have heard a pin drop. Jonathan Myer slowly looked up from his list of questions and blinked several times.
“I beg your pardon,” He said. “Did you just say Adolf Hitler?”
“Yes, have you heard of him?” came the enthusiastic reply from Frederick Schäfer. “I’m surprised, I did not expect his work to be well know outside of Austria”
“His… work?” Came the slow response from Myer.
“Yes, when I was still teaching at the Academy of Fine Arts I got a look at some of it. It was nothing spectacular, but for someone with so little proper schooling, I thought there was promise”
Myer, for his part, slowly put his list down on the table. A quick glance at the audience was the only sign of the turmoil bubbling beneath his composure.
“It is unfortunate,” continued Frederick, “You must understand, art is an ever changing landscape. At that point, the art scene was moving away from the type of work that he was doing. Sadly, I feel out of contact with him when I went off have a snooze around ‘09, I am a notorious over sleeper, you see”
At this, Myer physically relaxed. It felt like a great pressure had just been released from the studio. There was a smattering of relieved sighs from the audience.
“So you are not aware of his entry into politics?”
“No, I was not. Politics was such a minefield when I woke up in ‘56 that I never followed up on him. Why, it was only five years after that that those funny Russian fellows had the wall put up. I tell you, it was most inconvenient to visit my niece in Berlin only to find a big slab of concrete in the way. The place was enough of a maze with all those new buildings, honestly, you would think that they had had a war in the downtown.”
Myer slumped back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “Maybe this show wasn’t such a good idea,” he muttered under his breath.
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"Genghis Khan is still alive."
The audience roared in disbelief. Despite his best efforts, even Uther Umpire, host of the famous talk show, "I Was There", couldn't hold back his surprise.
"What?"
"Did that vampire just pulled that shit out of his ass? And I thought the previous vampire's claim of participating in the Emu War or 5 minutes of the Anglo-Zanzibar War was ridiculous."
"I kid you not. Look, I was there when he became one of us. He pretended to fall off his horse and kept the news of his false death all hush-hush. Why do you think nobody knew the exact cause of death? Its all speculation! And only speculation, because he isn't truly dead."
"Where is he then?"
"My friend, the Khan, grew tired of conquests on earth. The armies of earth ceased to be challenging. So he set out into Outer Space to conquer the galaxies!"
"Prove it!"
"Yea, or else you're full of bull!"
"You ever saw that Star Trek film?"
"The Wrath of Khan? Is this a joke? That Khan has nothing to do with Genghis Khan!"
"No, you filthy bloodbags! I'm talking about the Conquests of Khan!"
"There's no such movie! Get outta here!"
"Scram, you filthy bloodsucker! This is a historical talk show, not a fantasy sci-fi one!"
"Wait, what year is this?"
"2024. What did you hit your head on your coffin?"
"Oh...I'm a little too early for this. You see, I'm a time traveller from 2267 and Star Trek movies are still being made."
----
[Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, click here for more prompt responses and short stories written by me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TregonialWrites/)
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kxizxq8
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kxiwa2e
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[WP] In the medieval era, women began to wield magic and were called witches.A war was declared against them. However, the witches won and since then, the world has been ruled by them. You, a 16-year-old boy, discover that you can also wield magic. But your witch mother turns pale hearing this.
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" They thought they could win against the magic with swords? How foolish!" Edward looked at his sword and wondered.
Edward, the son of the Witch Queen of Silvian Forest, was baffled that some men even tried to resist witches. The first witch, Gaia, saved the witches and defeated the barbaric reign of men.
This reminded Edward of when he started to learn swordsmanship. He tried to keep up with witches of his same age. He wanted to defeat them by sword, to make his mother proud.He still cringes every time he revisits those memories. Sometimes he turns pale, because his ambitions were borderline blasphemous.
According to the testimony of the great religion of Gaia, magic wielders are to be worshiped by men, and men are to serve the witches. He also thought of the time he wanted to read the holy bible of Gaia , because only magic weilding witches can read the great Bible of Gaia.
So he had to practice swords, or else, as the son of the Witch Queen, not becoming a knight would disappoint his mother.He knows how people regret that his mother doesn’t have an heir.
But His mother is different. He knows how the witches treats their sons, however,his mom loves him regardless. And Edward respects his mother the most.
He was practicing swords by himself. Edward was too buff for his age. His swordsmanship is phenomenal for his age. But the memories of him trying to keep up with magic-wielding witches keep bugging him.
At first, he gave a self-deprecating laugh, but soon he couldn’t throw away the thought from his mind. He became frustrated, but he didn’t know why.
“I will become the best knight ever,” Edward declared as he beat the training dummy black and blue. But the memories kept spinning in his head.
He fears to admit it, but deep down he knows it was all for nothing. Witches' magic keeps advancing. They can fly, make fortresses. He knows knights would be worthless soon. But here he is just playing with a sword.
“Aghh!” Edward's bleeding hands didn't stop. He screamed and wanted to slash the dummy one last time when suddenly, his sword was set ablaze.
The blue flame surrounded the blade, and just by touching the dummy, it set on fire and turned into ash. The blade also melted, and Edward threw it away.
“What just happened? My sword was on fire and…” Edward was astonished. He just had a flaming sword.
“But how? Did I just…” Edward stopped midway. Man wielding magic? That’s blasphemy. He couldn’t even utter those words. Even when some men tried to capture lightning and they were executed because they questioned Gaia's teachings. But he was weirdly excited and relieved.
“What happened here?” Edward saw his mom standing behind him in the training ground. He saw his usual cheerful mom was weirdly pale?
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” the Witch Queen now screamed. The magic fluctuation was too strong. Her heart dropped when she saw her son in that condition.
“Mom, I just, I don’t know, my sword was on fire…” Edward had never seen his mom so agitated. He was so afraid of disappointing her.The Witch Queen's worst fear came to reality.
“I have to send you away; you can't stay here.” His mom started to drag him to his room.
It has been 10 years since that day. Edward is on the run. The witches put a bounty on him, naming him the "sinner knight." And he runs a secret school. He has five students who can also wield magic and are boys.
When his mom sent him away, she also gave him the knowledge of the witches. The bible of Gaia. By using magic he could read the book. And he now knows the darkest secrets of the Gaia religion: "if any witch finds that her son can wield magic, he is to be executed."
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"You- *You* can do magic?! A boy?!" Mama whispered, though I knew most of it addressed to herself rather than me. Mama often spoke to herself, price of being a powerful witch.
"Yes, Mama! Look!" I beamed, floating a cup of water from its beaker, every drop contorting and flowing like a rushing stream in the sky, like the Great Stream of Sava.
Mama pushed her chair out from under the table and grasped at my hands. I returned the water to its cup and turned to her.
"Oh, my beautiful boy..." She whispered, "I know not what this is, but I shall find out why. I cannot smell a trace of any curse - good - but there still may be other causes." She muttered, "There must be a rational explaination of this."
The house fell into a cursed silence, neither of us daring to make a single sound. I, too, was concerned of the cause of my powers. After all, one would assume that as a boy, I would not be capable of so much as a spark of magic. I had, of course, been tested for being intersex as an infant and it had come back negative, had not been cursed... What could it be?
We both adjourned to the library, each taking a corner of our enlarged library for our own. The number of books on magic itself alone was massive but I knew neither of us would be saddened by the prospect of camping out in the library for a few days at least.
So, there we went, the hours blurring as we attempted to ascertain the reason for my powers, I curled up in my long skirt as Mama floated above me casually. I could not even imagine the focus required to keep it up yet somehow, as always, she managed. Our reading was abridged by Mama teaching me the ways of the Wayfar witches, our family's trick for levitation and lighting candles. Our special family secrets Mama had thought would die with her.
I could see how proud she was, more than she'd ever been of me in her life, at the mere idea of her darling son wielding the tool that had shaped our family. The kinship I already felt with her, stronger than ever, was sickly sweet, strengthening my magic at every moment.
But then, Mama collapsed from her place in the air, crashing onto the floor with a deafening bang. She appeared unharmed bar a small mark that would likely have bruised had Mama not been proficient in healing charms. I could see she was excited and, as I matched her enthusiasm, gestured for her to speak.
"So, Elliot, you are aware, of course, how you wear women's clothing, all your friends are women?" She asked, eyes as frenzied as my own.
I sparked with knowing, looking between my mother and myself. I could tell what she meant yet... How many cases of magic occuring even happened if I was even trans?
I slid over to her, leaning back on the book shelf nearest Mama.
"Mama, how rare is magic in a male-to-female?" I asked, staring intently at her for answers.
"Elliot, if it is so, you are one in a thousand. Rare, but not unheard of. Most like you are not eager to speak of their roots. And I'd recommend you do the same, if you were wanting to enter a school for witches. It is, after all, rare enough I feel many would not understand." She informed me, "But know I love you for all that you are."
\---
"Hi, I'm Ellie, I'm here for initiation..?" I explained awkwardly.
"Oh, of course, right this way."
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kzyz5ko
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kzyvy6i
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[WP] As one of Zeus bastard children, you are doomed to be targeted by Hera, however you found a way to get on the queens good side before she found out who your father is.
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Hera Olympiad was someone who looked like she belonged in a world far above my own. There was no other way to put it. There was just this quality about her; if she told me to jump, I felt as if my body would move before my mind did. With her presence, she chased away all of the intricacies and sophistications of modern society away from my brain. She was the queen, and I was just a servant -if I even could call myself that.
Honestly, she shouldn’t even be here. She just looks too perfect. And I’m not saying this in a lovesick simpy way either; her face is too symmetrical, her skin too lustrous… her hair looks like they’ve never even met a split end in their life! For someone who should probably be on the cover of a Forbes magazine, she looks remarkably comfortable plopping her whole bodyweight down on my cheap 20-dollar amazon beanbag.
I won’t question it.
“I am once again here to experience human therapy,” she said without an ounce of inflection in her voice. Did I also mention that she was kinda weird? Not that she is the weirdest of my regulars, but she’s definitely up there. Maybe not as weird as Megan with her strange hissing noises, but 100% way weirder than Artemis.
“Last week’s therapy was quite helpful. I am thankful, John”.
“Just doing my job, Hera,” I said, sitting up despite being on another beanbag, “Have you decided on what you want to do moving forward?”
She sighed, sank deeper into her beanbag, and groaned. “No.”
“Would you like to talk about why?”
“It’s just the same thing again,” She muttered, “Is divorce truly the only option?” “Hera,” I said, “If this man has cheated on you multiple times already, it’s very telling already how much he values you.”
“I just value our marriage a lot. We made vows. Just because he broke his doesn’t mean that I’m going to break mine own.”
This was going to be yet another tough session. We’ve sung this same song and dance multiple times already. Maybe it was time to switch something up.
“When I was a kid,” I said, “it was just me and my mom. My dad left way before I was born, and for the longest time, I would always ask my mom if it was because of me. Sometimes, I still wonder, would my dad still be here if I were better?”
Hera listened with rapt attention, unsure of where I was going.
“My mother also died in mysterious circumstances, she left one day and never returned. Nobody was ever able to find even a trace of her. And you know what? I blamed myself. What if I were a better son, what if I was just born better? Would my parents still be here?”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she told me, her voice lacking the sharp and proud tone that I was accustomed to hearing. “But how does this relate to my situation?”
“The point, Hera, is that it took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t my fault. That I did not ask to be born to this world. And that there was nothing that I had to live up to. The only person that I ever had to be was myself. Hera, how much of yourself have you let go to waste to save your marriage? Do you even know who you are anymore?”
“No,” she whispered, “I don’t.” “Then you should start valuing yourself more. You are more than your marriage. You are more than just some man. Honestly, I would consider the marriage vows invalid after your husband decided to break them anyway. Think about it, if you cut a ribbon in half, both sides unravel.”
It was silent for a few moments as she sat there, digesting my words. Then finally, “I just lived for so long thinking that saving the marriage was what was going to fix my whole life.” She said, “It’s never occurred to me that it had started to become my whole life instead.”
“It’s easy to fall into that trap,” I said gently, “But you still have your whole life ahead of you. It’s never too late to start living for yourself”.
“Living for myself sounds like a daunting task”. “Sometimes the things that will help us the most are the hardest to start”.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about”.
And at the a sharp timer made itself known. One whole hour.
“Looks like that’s all of our time for today.” I said.
“Yes. Thank you again. Am I still allowed to come back next week for human therapy?”
“I’ll put you down.” She then stood up from the deep pits of the beanbag chair and headed towards the door. Pausing before the door, she seemed to think for a second. Turning around, her deep brown eyes gazed into the depths of my soul.
“You’ve been very helpful, John. As you have probably guessed, I am a very powerful and well-connected woman. You have helped me to see things from a new perspective, something I once thought impossible. I would like to help you too. I would like to help you find out what happened to your mother.”
“Are you sure? You are my client; you really don’t need to go out of your way for me.”
“I would very much like to do so. What is her name?”
“Ashley. That’s all I know about her.”
She frowned, “How many years ago was it when she disappeared again?”
I would never forget the day Mom left to never come back.
“13 years ago. Ever since then, I’ve been on my own.” Her expression fell as if someone attached a 100-ton weight to her perfectly symmetrical face. Flashes of emotions danced through her eyes, some of them too quick to pinpoint. But I was able to decipher some of them: guilt, fear, anger, and then more guilt.
And then I realized.
Hera already knew something about my Mom’s disappearance.
|
Child of Zeus. That, by itself, was the most important part about myself - not who I was or what I did, but who fucked my mother years ago.
It was a mark on me from the moment I was born, and all that came after came from that one thing. My very nature meant I was going to be important, but not because of me. No mather what I did, it would be thanks to my father and the accursed Ichor in my veins.
Free will and choice is lesser factors when you are a demigod. Your fate is determined at birth, and unlike humans, you are bound to ancient laws that maintain that fate. It was hopeless to wish for a happy ending.
I didn't always think of it like this, of course. When I was young, I was elated at my strength and speed. I was the fastest kid around, the strongest, the most athletic and gifted. Sure I got into accidents and strange situations I couldn't explain - animals attacking me, people trying to throw me into fires, seeing mythological creatures. Back then, I found it exciting.
Back then, I was blind.
Nobody told me who my father was, and my mother wasn't any help - he'd left her a shadow of her former self. Any time she looked at me, I knew she didn't see me. She only saw him. Back then I didn't know that the love I was showered with wasn't for me. Back then I thought she loved me.
Back then I was just a child.
I left my mother when I had enough money to move away. She'd been getting... Confused on who I was, and had started treating me as if I was my father - her lover. It sickens me to this day that I went along with it at first, just to cling to some semblance of love.
It hurt to hear my father's name spoken with such affection, such *joy*. As if this was all she'd ever dreamed of. She told me all about her life, all about the hollow loneliness she felt. All about how she'd raised his child like he'd asked, how she was so happy her burden had been worth it.
Burden...
I left soon after. Couch surfing among a few friends, always making sure I was a good guest. They almost looked sad when I left them, and I had to block their number more than once. Being the child of the god of Hospitality seem to do some... Interesting things to your host. Who would have thought?
Before long I stopped staying with friends altogether, just to keep the few I had left. Not like it was hard to find a place to stay for me anymore. Both women and men tried to get me in their bed, and I let them. I didn't know them, didn't love them, but I knew just the way to make them feel and how to act to pretend I did the same.
Still... It felt hollow. Fake.
One night when I was out, trying to find a place to stay, I stumbled on one of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She had beautiful dark hair, flawless almond skin and the most caring yet sad eyes I'd ever seen. She was dressed in a leather jacket above her blue dress, and she wore a golden necklace with green and blue stones put together in a pattern resembling eyes.
We struck up a conversation, and... For once, it didn't feel like I was looked at as someone else. There wasn't any awe in her eyes, nor a blush on her cheeks. There was just a... Sorrow to her, one I soon understood. Her husband wasn't faithful to her, and hadn't been for a long time.
As she spoke, there was a passion, a jealous love that colored her words. I wasn't sure what made me suggest it, but before long I suggested something stupid.
"Why don't you divorce him? Or cheat on him yourself?" The fury I saw directed at me was more than I could ever imagine could be conveyed in a single glare. Thankfully, she didn't strike me down where I stood, and simply told me that she wouldn't sink to his level.
Still... There seemed to be some intrigue in her eyes at my first suggestion. We kept talking, and throughout the conversation, she seem to itch towards the subject of her husband quite a bit. About how he used to be, how he had once had a wife before her whom he had been completely fateful towards. How his former wife disappeared and she hoped to fill the void. How she never felt she quite could, no matter how many children she gave him.
She told me briefly about his countless affairs, even as the bar started to grow empty. When it was time to close, I admitted I had nowhere to go, and asked if I could sleep on her couch.
She... Agreed, on the condition I told her my story aswell. I did, hesitantly, but the more she looked at me with those sad motherly eyes... Before I knew it, it all spilled out of me. Every time mother looked at me, every time she grew manic. Every birthday that didn't go through, every time she couldn't see me for me.
I didn't know how we got there, but before long, I was guided into this strangers home, to this woman's couch. With a gentleness reserved for a child, she put me to bed, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of home.
Without thinking, I thanked her and called her mother. The shock on her face melted into a smile. As I drifted off to sleep, she sang me to a deep and restful sleep. It was the first time in years I'd felt safe, felt at home...
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j6dh6da
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j6dg4ca
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[WP] While checking out an abandoned island with your new friends, you decide to look at the local pictures online. The only one nearby is a photo of you and your friends posted a month ago, before any of you even met.
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"AAAAGH!" I screamed as Bonnie, one of the new friends I have made over the summer break, snuck up on me and grabbed me by the shoulders, instantly pulling me out of my uneasy slumber.
"HAH-!" she laughed loudly, clearly happy with the fright she gave me. "Come on lazybones, you've slept all day."
"Right, right. I'm going," I said and rubbed my eyes weakly. A stretch, a yawn and I was out of bed, heading out of the houseboat to join my new friends. It's been a fun couple of weeks - we met at an exclusive party and immediately hit it off, all four of us, and ever since that we've been getting from one spot of trouble into another, having the time of our lives. An endless party.
"Remind me- wha- aah!" I said with a barely suppressed yawn, "what we're doing on an abandoned island again, Ranjit?"
"Oh come on mate," Ranjit, the cleverly dressed man leading us all on this foolhardy expedition, responded, "it's an *abandoned island*! We explore it, find a chest o' gold, and get famous!"
"Right," I glared at him.
"Or, you know, just bond over the *epic* adventure," he added.
"*Right.*"
"Oi!" I heard from behind Ranjit, "not like we're going blind, innit?"
"Hey Summer," I smiled at the upbeat freckled girl that appeared from behind Ranjit.
"Aye, got us some satellite images. Lay of the land and all!" she smiled and pointed at her laptop. Fancy way of saying 'Google Maps' but who am I to judge? We huddled together, eager to inspect the island properly.
"Not many images, are there?" I said disappointed. "This one seems to be of this beach, click on it."
Summer obliged and the image of the beach we were standing on, judging by the shape of the nearby reef, started slowly loading. But with every pixel, the whole image grew more and more... wrong.
"Weird. This place is supposed to be abandoned, right?" I asked.
"Yeah," Ranjit noted.
"So who are the people in this photo?" I said and pointed to the 4 figures. "Zoom in?"
She did, eventually getting to street view. And we saw their faces.
Our faces.
It was an image of us as if taken by a photographer directly in front of us. We all looked up instantly but saw no one; yet the picture, dated more than a month back - before we've ever even met - showed us all in our current attire, standing where we currently were, with our currently dumbfounded looks.
"What's going on?" I asked in a hushed voice.
"I- I don't... I-" Bonnie tried to speak but found no words.
"What's this?" Ranjit said and pointed to the monitor. On the image - our portrait - was a blur, something behind us, dark and tall.
I tried to turn but was stopped when some sort of spike pierced through Ranjit's back, running him through and splattering us all with blood. My instinct kicked in. Flight.
I ran. Ran as fast as I could. I only managed to turn around once to see the thing, tall, hideous and unnatural, descend upon Summer with an equal level of cruel savagery, cleaving her nearly in twain. I saw the spike it killed Ranjit with was its arm, resembling a crab claw. I saw it snip Summer's head off as she tried to scream. I saw it look at me with dark, beady eyes; the only thing on its otherwise pale, smooth face. And then I stopped looking back and ran.
I ran. And ran. And ran. Until I could run no longer. My heart felt like it was going to explode from my chest, my lungs were on fire. I collapsed into a nearby shrub and tried my best to conceal myself with the spare leaves.
It didn't make sense. The photo was impossible. The monster was impossible. Ranjit and Summer - they - were they dead? Actually dead? This can't be happening. It can't. An abandoned island, no help, monster... is...
Is this Hell?
I had no time to finish the thought. I looked up and saw the creature, wet and slimy, hideous beyond measure, standing above me, pincer raised.
​
I screamed.
​
"AAAAGH!"
I screamed as Bonnie, one of the new friends I have made over the summer break, snuck up on me and grabbed me by the shoulders, instantly pulling me out of my slumber.
"HAH-!" she laughed loudly, clearly happy with the fright she gave me. "Come on lazybones, you've slept all day."
"Right, right. I'm going," I said and rubbed my eyes weakly. A stretch, a yawn and I was out of bed, heading out of the houseboat to join my new friends. It's been a fun couple of weeks - we met at an exclusive party and immediately hit it off, all four of us, and ever since that we've been getting from one spot of trouble into another, having the time of our lives.
An *endless* party.
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"So...what's the name of that island again?" Sarah asked, swiping through on her phone.
"Hermit Island. Just off the Reef." I didn't look at her, instead kicking a glass bottle across the rocks. I winced when it shattered, then turned to my friends.
"Whoa," Sarah said, and turned her phone around. "Hey Mickey, come and look at this."
The waver in her voice caught my attention, and I jogged over the gravelly sand to see what had upset her.
She, Jason and Beth were gathered around near the front door of the hut, looking into Sarah's phone and muttering "no way!" and "that's gotta be fake, stop messing with us!"
"What's up?" I asked, jumping in behind Beth.
"I was scrolling through the pictures, wanted to add a few I took, and I found this." Sarah turned her phone to face me. "It's a picture of us, but look at the upload date."
My eyes crept down to the right-hand corner. January 17 - almost two weeks before.
"So it's set to the wrong time zone or something," I shrugged.
"Okay, even if that were the case," Sarah turned her phone back around and made a few taps, "you're the one that posted it."
Beth pulled the same photo up on her phone. "And look, all four of us are in the photo."
"So?" Jason asked, looking between the girls.
"So? So, do you see anyone around here who would take a photo of us looking at our phones, looking at this photo?" Sarah asked.
Beth suddenly sat down on a nearby rock, breathing a nit harder. "Guys, I don't feel so good. Can we go?"
Jason grabbed Beth's phone, leaving me to try to calm the girl. He turned a little, looking at the view, then suddenly spun 180 degrees and pointed to the hut's mouldering, rotted door. "Whoever took this is inside the hut!" he called, and raced off.
"Wait -- Jason!" Sarah called, chasing after him.
He ran into the hut yelling "gotcha" and vanished from our sight. Sarah, not far behind her brother, ran inside, calling out, "Wait, you idiot!"
Beth and I looked at each other, then waited for the pair to reemerge.
We waited for ten minutes, but there was no sign of them.
"Guys?" Beth called, standing up.
There was no noise from the hut. Beth slipped her hand in mine, looking up at me.
"Not funny, guys," I sighed pulling Beth along with me to the hut. She stayed behind me, holding my hand. "You can come out now, we're super scared."
"*Good*," hissed a voice, it's words rattling through my head and making my teeth hurt. "*We don't like...fear*."
I looked at Beth, who shook her head. I let her hand go, stepping closer to the hut. "Alright, Jason, you're being a bit of a dick."
The voice laughed, as cold as a graveyard. "*Come inside and stop me*," the voice called, its tone taunting. "*Show me what you've got*."
Beth held onto me. "Something's not right," she said quietly, looking at the wide maw of the house. "Don't go in there."
"Look, it's probably just Jason in there," I said, shrugging. "I'll go in, kick his ass, and drag them back out. You wait here. I'll be back on a minute."
Beth tried to cling to my hand, but I slipped away. "Mickey!" she hissed, throwing terrified glances at the house. "There's something bad there. Mickey!"
I ignored her, striding into the house. The interior was so black, I had trouble seeing the floor. Three paces in, I missed my footling and fell through the floor, into a deep hole. When I scrambled to my feet, I realised there was light here, somehow.
"*That's it*," the voice called from a small crack in the earth. "*Come a little closer, Michael*."
I took a few steps into the crack in the earth, and realised why I coild see light. There was fire up ahead.
"It's okay, Beth!" I called up to her. "I just have to check out this...fire..."
The crack opened up on a cavern, full of creatures unimaginable to the eye. I tried to step backwards, but found only dirt behind me. I was trapped, and I suddenly knew this is not where I wanted to be. This was bad, and there was no way out.
"*Hello, Michael*," the voice said, coming from my left. "*Welcome to Hell. Time to get to work. Those photograph lures won't take themselves*!"
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l3v0rvt
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l3uwkta
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[WP] You decide you've had enough of being treated like a pawn or tool, and in the midst of battle abandon your blade. Which causes it to begin pleading to you and beg you to return to it.
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Standing in the middle of the bloodstained fields surrounded by corpses, I sighed. The battle had shifted farther north, deeper into enemy territory. Looking around, the wounded groaned as I started to walk forward.
But what was the point?
If we won this battle, there would be another, and then another. If we lost, then there wouldn’t be much for me to think about after. I would most likely be executed. I couldn’t but wonder if that was all my life amounted to, a helpless pawn to be shoved into battle time and time again until I was too old, wounded, or dead.
At the edge of the battle, I hesitated, glancing down at my blade, and shoved it into the ground, before I turned away. The forest was just a short dash away. I could make it without being seen while chaos ensued in the battle. A whisper stopped me in my tracks.
“Don’t go.”
Turning back, I looked back at my blade, a faint glow emitting from it. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep doing this anymore.”
“Take me with you.”
I closed my eyes. It was more than just a blade. One that was imbued with magic that allowed it to be almost sentient, but also contained a wide array of powers. It was my partner and protector for the countless battles that I had fought.
But it would also serve as a beacon to the magician’s court if I took it with me. The royal insignia engraved on the hilt would make any chances of being discrete nil. “I’m sorry friend, I can’t. Let them know that I’ve died in battle.”
“I don’t want to shed blood anymore.”
It’s voice was like a child, whimpering. It sent a connection to me, one filled with emotions that made me close my eyes and sighed. It was also tired of the meaningless bloodshed. It too wanted to be free. Letting out a sigh, I walked back to my blade.
“Are you sure? Maybe in due time, you can be free too.” I whispered as I picked it up.
“It’s better by your hands now, then by the hands of the enemy. You alone should be my master.” It whispered back, and I nodded.
Mustering my strength, I winded back and struck the flat edge of the blade. A single blow, and it shattered. It had purposely removed its defenses for me to put it to rest. “Thank you friend, and rest well.” My whisper rode the winds as I disappeared from the battlefield.
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Avoiding an arrow, being pushed by one of the noble houses' warrior who was running away...
I had enough.
Enough of being a mercenary, enough of being used as some cannon fodder.
I have seen too many of my comrades dying just because we aren't "valuable".
I threw my blade down, tripping a horse-rider, planning to ride away.
As I try to do that, I hear my blade.
It whimpers.
I look at my blade, my heart clenching.
My memories flood my mind, as I remember all the battles we survived.
We survived a war, several skirmishes, countless quests, and missions.
We protected heirs, heroes, and saints and saintesses together...
It broke when a dragon broke out of a binding spell, but I chose to forfeit my share of treasure just so my blade can be reforged...
But now...
"Sorry brother...
If I take you, I will be still seen as a warrior, my escape so much harder.", I mutter looking at the blade.
It rings weakly, but this time clearly, then it goes silent.
"Goodbye...", I whisper weakly, riding away.
Dodging arrows, and people I use the chaos to slip away.
I manage to arrive at a river, where I leave the horse, as I jump into it, letting the currents take me away.
Nor my wounds, nor the cold water, nor the uncertain future bother me.
But my hand, and heart ache...as I am missing something...
I survived.
I escaped.
Using whatever I managed to loot, and selling my armor and old garment, I managed to buy some land.
Years of battles sculpted my body, and I was lucky enough to have a good lass fall in love with me.
Now, I have two kids, and a good wife, and life is good.
I take care of the land, using tool after tool, but they all feel awkward.
None feel right in my hands...
Years have gone by, and I am still haunted by their memory...
My blade...
"It might still be there...", I sigh, as I continue to work the land...
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loiy9co
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loifflc
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[WP] You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supers but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you it's all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic super villain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.
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When people decide to become superheros, they usually end up in one of 2 categories: holier than thou over the top doo-gooder or the broody avenger, protecting the innocent that will never know.
Both are bullshit.
Sure, they start out ok, but within a year they stop seeing the little guy and only look at the big picture or big dollar items.
Stopping an alien invasion? Sure, go ahead, i'm rooting for ya big man.
Apprehending the art thief stealing the 500.000 dollar painting, when said painting was bought from a street artist a month ago for 15 bucks? The only creme there is the art world... and probably insurence fraud, now that I think about it.
All the while ignoring the waitress getting robbed around the corner, the kid falling from the fire escape whil drink dad sleeps on the couch and a million other little everyday things.
And honestly, i'm not that much better myself, though i try focusing on the "medium" crimes as I like to call them.
"Fight with DR. Dentist reveals secret meth lab"
"Faild heist reveals massive chemical dump, The Dentist still at large"
Sure, I annoy the stuffing out of some... ok most of the lokal heros, but what's 100k in property damage to save the cities water supply from carcinogens being dumped into it? Helping clean up the neighbourhood? The only thing i've done that caused real damage and inconvinience to others than the heros, politicians and a few corrupt beaurocrats was blowing up a nursing home that had more mold than blue cheese.
Sure they label me a criminal, insane and stuck me with that "DR tooth decay" title, but that just means i can make a them look even more rediculous, keeping them humble.
This time though, things have changed.
Alpha-man had moved to the city and started doing stuff to prove "he's the Alpha!!"
First, he broke Dovemans arms, then paralized gorilla girl, a fellow criminal, from the neck down.
Now though, he's killed Sir Sun and Lady Moon, and is going for Shooting Star... my Niece.
As I walk towards the fighting, I try to feel.. something, but it's like my emotions have fled from the void that right now personifies my power
As I walk towards the fight, Shooting Star is hit in the face, flying a good 42 feet and landing in a herp in front of me.
I sidestep her and continue walking towards Alpha-man.
"Do..doctor dentist?" Star coughs, her face swolen, bleeding from several missing teeth and a torn eyebrow.
I turn my head and lower my surgical mask, smile at her. "It's going to be okay honey" I tell her.
"Unc-coughcough-uncle Dan!?! You have to run! He's -cough- too strong..." Star says before slowly fading. She probably has internal injuries, I need to do this quick.
I turn back to Alpha-man, who is right in front of me now, spewing some bs about a No powers e-list villan not being able to stop the uber god that he is.
I start laughing a shrill, almost hysterical laugh, that would back up all the articles calling me insane. At least it stoppede his monolog.
"Listen up, you roided up 5 year old on a temper tantrum, every last so called hero on this planet has tried catching me at some point, all failing because something breaks and i escape, you think I don't have any power?!? Just because you wouldn't know subtlety if it smacked you in the face with the ugly bat, Even more than your parents already did. But tonight the gloves comes off, just for you, don't you feel special?" I tell him with a happy smile. God, I probable am a bit insane right now.
As the hunk of muscle takes a swing at me, several Lord cracks can be heard and he steps back, screaming in pain. Just like my Niece did a few moments ago...
"Aww bone decay in someone so young, you should really watch what you put into yourself" I tell him in a mocking concerned tone.
He roars in rage and pulls out some kind of gun from his back, probab what he used to get past my sister-in-laws powers. It doesn't matter.
As he puls the trigger, it explodes, leaving a bloody stump where his hand should be.
"Not maintaining your equipment means the sensitive little things inside it decays faster" I tell him.
He just stares at me, his mind being overloaded by all the signals going to it to the point where the pain isn't registiring. That won't doo. A few decayed nerves and he's back to screaming.
"Normally i wouldn't do this, but you've made it personal. Tonight, you're going to decay as slowly and painfully as possible. So prepare as Entropy takes you"
Edited for spelling
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"The heroes and i,had had a friendly relationship at times. really my journey into so called villainy, started with My youngest sons Milos 6th birthday,him and his friends wanted it to be super hero themed,so i dawned my pirate suit,i haven't worn,in years,since i was captain of the Infamous Black rose pirates,i want to say,it was down in greece? or maybe spain,i dont really rember,it was 300 or so years ago now,but ill never forget ol lucy,my first mate,i met her when she was but a lass of 14,and she stole from me,.'
"but that's not what this story is about. see for years,i played the local villain,for a bunch of local super heroes,of various ages. Dragon of winter they called me.,i would do petty tricks,small snow storms,petty freezing of pipes and such,but id never hurt anyone and id always reverse the damage i did when the kids caught me. I've lived for many years now. I've traveled around the world and back,i spent time all over. but i had finally settled down once again. all the kids knew me by name,it didn't matter if i was a so-called villain,the parents and kids were happy ,and having fun,isn't that what's important?"
"i was at work in the office,and going over some reports,when a speical news brodcast from the heros went out.it was strange as it was a level 32 alret,the higest level they had,so i stopped and watched.,and what i saw... ill never forget. No parent should ever have to bury their child... but that day... ill never forget,the anger,the pure hatrad i felt for that bastard. the one they call the Blod viper,a brutal bastard,who has no moral compas."
*Special news report Blood viper Brutally murdred and torutred the local super hero team night owls,live on telvison,and carved their hearts out,daring anyone else to challange him,as he laughs a wicked laugh*
"when i saw the report,my heart sank,i prayed i was wrong.... but later,when i got home,Lucian,One of Milos friends parents,who works as a cop,informed me,milo was their... fighting for his life... and he passed away. on that day,hearing those words,my heart hardend once again,and it took me back to when i served over seas.. i dawned an old uniform with various tabs of elite forces ,and i let out a roar of anger,as i look to a picture of milo and his mom*
"im sorry,i wasnt able to protect him.... but i will avange him."
*i put out a chllange to a duel to the death for blood viper,many news comapnys and reporters came and looked at the situation,blood viper just laughed at seeing me,dressed in a t shirt,and shorts,*
"so your the so called villan who chllanged me? i beat the hero league and i heard your more a prankster then an actual villan,so what are you going to do about it,weakling."
*My eyes flash with an anger and fire they havent flashed with,in years,as i spoke calmly,yet the power and tension behind my words could be felt,as the very air shook*
"You killled,innocent children... who wanted to make this world a safer place. You really think just because im called a tristicker ,i am? i only did that for the children,and the local heros. it kept them safe from people like you."
*he waves his hands,as spirits of the dammend and demons of death appear,and he ties blood viper in chains as he tries to run*
"My true power,is far beyond,what they saw or know. today im going to make an example of you. milo was only 15,and he had a kid on the way. i dont agree with it. but you took away that chance,now your sins have caught up."
*Everyone watches in stuned silence as The person they thought was a low tier villain,brutally punished blood viper,and once he was done torutring him,he summoned a sword of Hellfire and ice,and split him in 2,*
"i lived a life to protect my sun,and then you did this. you pushed me to far."
*he says,as he burns the body and as his spirt leaves,the other spirits and demons drag it deep to the depths of hell*
*he looks up to the sky*
"dont worry son,after this,no one,hero or villan will bother your unborn child,or your girlfriend. you have my word,ill protect them. hopefully one day,we can meet again,at the gates."
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j2pa5dj
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j2og35e
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[WP] Your job description: 1) Sit in an empty room with a red button for 8 hours a day. 2) NEVER press the red button, no matter what happens. 3) Do not talk to anyone about the job. After many uneventful years, your phone rings and a stern, slightly panicked voice says: „Press the button. NOW!!“
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"Right. Sit here, do nothing, NEVER press the button, don't talk to anyone about it. Easy." I needed something easy. Not to put too fine a point on it, but rent was coming due and I hadn't had much luck with jobs lately.
Now, the thing about easy jobs is that you have no idea just how DULL a job can be until you've done it for a few weeks. At first it seemed like Heaven. No snotty customers, no ringing phones, nobody shouting at me. Just me, a comfy chair, and the Big Red Button. The novelty got me through the first couple hours, but eventually time started to drag by ever more slowly. There just wasn't anything to \*do\*. I finally allowed myself a look at my watch after sitting for what seemed like forever, sure it must be time for lunch. It was 10:30. Damnit. Eventually I made it to lunch, then back to the desk. Yup, still boring.
The afternoon sped by like an exhausted slug, the seconds crawling past. An eternity went by before 5 pm, during which I was sure civilizations had risen and fallen. Finally, the blessed hour arrived. Sweet freedom! I went home to my dark apartment, ate a solitary dinner, and passed out in front of the TV.
That was the first day. By the end of the week I was losing my mind with the sheer tedium. I had to figure out something to DO. They wouldn't let me bring a book, or any electronics, or anything. It was frustrating.
I was late one morning, searching my sock drawer for two that were at least vaguely the same color, when I found the little baggie at the bottom. I'd had a few shrooms left over from a party awhile back, and forgotten about them. This was what I needed! "If I'm tripping balls, I can't be bored." I figured I could easily get to my desk before they kicked in. Without further thought, I popped a few into my mouth and slipped the baggie in my coat pocket. I was just coasting down the last block to work when I idly reached into the baggie for another mushroom, and it was empty. Shit. I hadn't meant to eat that many. How many was that? How much was left in the bag? I hadn't weighed it, but my hazy memories told me was maybe 4 grams, dried. Fuck. This was going to be one hell of a workday.
It seemed like I'd been at the desk for hours, but I knew that was just how time passed here. Nothing to do, so...I gave up, leaned back in the chair, and just counted the dots in the acoustic tiles overhead. Eventually, as a warm glow started to suffuse my body and a light sweat broke out on my forehead, the shrooms started to kick in. The dots in the tiles swam back and forth, marched in orderly processions across the ceiling, to the music of the tinny corporate musak speaker, which now thundered and roared like the symphony of the gods. A parade of wildly colored ants made its way down one breathing, pulsing wall, and started to meander across toward the desk. Hrm. I was idly wondering if that was going to be a problem, when Hell's own Klaxon erupted violently in my ears.
I jumped, uttering the most obscene oaths I knew, and turned to look for the source of the infernal noise. The phone. It was just the phone. Oh, god! The phone! The phone was ringing! Nobody had told me what to do if the phone rang. Do I answer it? I guess? I'd been told I wasn't allowed to make personal calls, so I'd ignored it. But now... it was ringing, and I was the only person there. What if it was important? I hadn't been given any instructions about the phone. What if whoever it was wanted something, and I had to get it for them, and I didn't even know how to find another person. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. What to do? The phone continued its wails, grating in my ears like steel. What if I don't answer it? What then? Will I get fired? Will something bad happen? I was too high for this.
Finally, I had an idea. I could just make this whole situation go away. As if the phone was going to bite me, I tentatively reached out and grasped the receiver, then picked it up and dropped it back on the hook. Instant relief. The phone stopped ringing, the red light stopped flashing, and normality was returned. My heart hammering away in my chest, I breathed a sigh of blissful relief.
I was just returning my attention to the file of multicolored ants, who were now coming ominously close to my chair, when it rang again. God-fucking-damnit!! I knew - I was going to have to answer it. My heart had returned to my throat and waves of nausea rolled over me as I turned on the speaker.
"Uh, H-hello?"
A metallic voice rattled back at me, faintly and somewhat garbled. Barely-controlled panic permeated his tone. "Oh, thank God.
You picked up this time. Listen to me. You need to push the button."
<cont in child>
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Josh often felt like his life had no meaning. He went away to college to study literature and he failed an any attempt of social relationships.
The only person that still call him sometimes was his roommate Andy, but Josh thought the only reason was that he felt guilty about all the homeworks he copied from him during the year, and because he had this need to be liked by everyone so he tried too hard to be friendly.
Josh was a pretty good student, actually one of the best, but he didn't think much of that and he consider himself mostly lucky for his result. Nonetheless he graduated with excellent grades. He was hired as a professor.
He dreamt as a child to be like one of those professor you see in movies, that changes the life of their students and live a mark on the world. He didn't felt this as much as then when he was hired, he chose the university because he never had any other lead on what to do so he just went with it.
One day had a heavy fight with his mother that morning, that left him strained and nervous and that eventually led him to clap back, but hours later, against a student. Turn out this student was the son of some important functionaire or something like that, and his father pressed for him to be removed. He never kept contact with his colleagues and he interrupted every contact with his family.
He was at a laundry when he encountered the man who offered him the seemingly perfect job. They both were regular and Josh recognized his face even if they never actually talked to eachother. This time, the man approached him like he were the best of friends, and told him that there was an opening for a task that didn't required any special skills nor to interact or even see other people. The job consisted in sitting in an empty room, with a red bottom at the middle of it for 8 hours a day, without ever pressing the red button and without talking to anyone about the job. He said that no one would accept these condition and that someone even thought he was joking, or worst trying to screw them over, so he was desperate to find a person to hire and that he was basically begging anyone he met. He was really surprised when Josh said he would have take the job. It sounded like a perfect representation of the useleness of his life.
So, from the day after, Josh went to the room with the red bottom, and for the next six years his life went on without any changes. His mom often tried to called over the years, trying to make amend for their fight and asking him what he was doing for a living. He forgave her eventually, and he let her know that, but he refused to elaborate on any questions she may have on his personal life. He often went to the laundry and he often met the man again, they mostly have small talk, and nothing else.
It was another Monday at work, ordinary as every other day. His phone ringed, he sighed before answering. "Mum, I already told you that how I live and what I do is not your concern, just made peace with it and go on". "I'm not your mum Josh, now hurry and press the red bottom in the room". A familiar, panicked voice almost screamed the words, Josh took a while to put his finger on it. "Andy, I believe that's you, right?" "Press the bottom Josh, NOW". He seemed freaked out, in a rush. "I don't know what are you talking about or why are you calling me, so maybe take a breath and drink some water, or alcohol if it better fit your state, and then have a good day. Goodbye Andy" "no, you don't understand, you really need to-..." Josh closed the call.
He finished his shift and went home. He ordered an Hawaiian Pizza by dominos for dinner. For the first time he stopped to thinking about the strange interaction he had at the phone. For the first time in years he asked himself what he was doing, actually, with his life. What the meaning of his job was. What would have happened if he had played the bottom.
The following day he went to work, and after at least an hour of going trought unresolvable questions, he pressed the red bottom. He then took his jacket and left, directed to his mother house. He owned some explanation after all. He texted Andy. "I did as you asked me by the way, even if I totally don't understand how you would possibly knew about anything. do you want to get a beer one of these days?"
And so, Josh's life went on. He often went to the laundry. He never met the man ever again.
Edit: paragraph
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[WP] A human ship activated its self destruct sequence when boarded by an enemy, when humanity was asked why would we do such a thing by the galactic community, we simply responded "We don't give up the ship, such as the crews of old. We never give up the ship."
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"Members of the Council, Humanity may be new to the galactic community, but we know how to follow rules. We also know when rules have been broken." The human ambassador adjusted her tie before continuing, "so why were the Thierian ships allowed to track, disable, and board a human transport vessel? A vessel which, I remind you, was not only unarmed but was bringing aid to the homeworld of this Council's chair."
At this, the Chairperson erupted. "Your people detonated their drive core! They vaporized thousands of Thierians in an instant! Why would your people do this?!"
"Humanity has a saying, Councilor: 'Never give up the ship'. We will die before we allow bastards like the Thierians to gain access to our secrets."
The chamber fell silent. No one had dared insult the Thierian people before. They possessed the largest military in the galaxy, easily dwarfing the next 3 races combined. Their laser weaponry could melt ships with ease.
"So," continued the ambassador, "I will restate our demand: reparations of one billion credits paid to each family of the deceased humans. 200 billion credits in all."
"And if we refuse?" Asked the Thierian Councilor, rising on all 6 legs to his full height of 10 feet.
"Then Humanity will collect its debt in blood. And we will collect interest." Her eyes narrowed as she continued. "Your worlds will burn. The races you have enslaved will be freed. We will destroy every ship we come across until we consider the debt paid."
The Thierian Councilor roared with laughter. "You have jokes, human! But none can defeat us! Let us see your best effort to collect your debt!"
"So be it."
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Humanity proved itself by the galactic community that they were the most advanced and desired the galaxy for itself. They attacked and used aggressive diplomacy when necessary. A galactic council of the most strongest nations made a unanimous decision to attack the nation known to human eyes and ears as “United states of earth. This coalition realized that open engagement such as in alpha centari would be catastrophic and thus simple hit and run tactics would suffice. One universal cycle later and they encountered a Earth scout ship and ambushed it. They planned on taking them alive for questioning and possible peace negotiations but when the galactic forces infiltrated the ship, the ship exploded killing everyone on board. They galactic community was shocked by the news that the Earthlings rather killed themselves than be captured. Why did a diplomat ask, the earthling diplomat responded with “it’s cheaper to get a new soldier then negotiate and rehabilitate a POW, what are we animals.” Everyone knew that the earthlings did not fool themselves of this conquest of the galaxy of noble intent, the rulers of earth as later revealed by Galactic spies ran out of means to exploit their planet and went on to continue the cycle of exploitation and conquest until of course, it no longer became profitable.
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[WP] You, an everyday civilian, watch in horrified disbelief as the so-called ‘hero’ yet again chooses to spare the villain who murdered your spouse and children, alongside countless other families, and prepares to take them back to a prison or asylum they have escaped from tens of times.
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Mike waits on top of Central City Maximum Security Prison along with a squad of armed guards. A cool night wind brings an ashy smell from the manufacturing district in the south, which is still on fire. A distant shadow in the sky is getting closer. This is the seventh time an incident involving the Human Pestilence has caused over 100 deaths. As usual, the City guardian hero, Justice, has captured him.
Justice Man lands gently on the roof and pushes a tied-up Pestilence forward. Mike steps forward with a forced smile.
"Thank you, Justice, for saving our city. We will take it from here."
Justice looks around suspiciously. "Who are you? Where is the commissioner?"
Mike motioned the guards to put reinforced cuffs, restraints, and face guards on the prisoner.
"I am Mike Feng, I am head of Ultra Security Solutions. We took over the contract to manage this prison from Waylian Corporation. I believe Commissioner Jordan was reassigned."
"What?!? How come I wasn't informed? I own... I mean, I work with Waylian Corp closely."
Mike looks behind him at the guards bringing Pestilence into the elevator. "Bring him to the basement. I will be right there."
Mike slowly turns back to Justice. "It was an emergency act passed by the city council. I know you have a close relationship with Waylian Corp, but they have let too many prisoners escape. Even though the city has passed the death penalty law, none of the super criminals ever stay in jail long enough for it to matter."
A frown creeps up Justice's brow. "Death penalty is wrong, no one should take another's life."
"Even to save hundreds of future potential lives?" Mike shook his head. "You don't need to answer because it doesn't matter. We are here to do what the democratically elected civilian government has asked us to do. I hope you are the same."
Justice looks like he is about to argue but thinks better of it. "A word of advice, Mike. Don't get too comfortable, Waylian owns half of this city." With that, he flies into the night.
Mike stays on the roof for a while. "Justice has seriously overestimated people in this city's willingness to be props in his catch and release hunting reserve." He thought to himself, reaching for his phone.
"This is Mike. How is Operation Swift Justice?"
"Completed? That is great. Please inform the city council that Pestilence has been judged by a jury, sentenced, and executed in 90 minutes, just like I promised. Tell council leader Judy that her daughter was avenged."
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I've never really cared about the families who lost their loved ones to a dirt bag. I've always thought: "as long as it isn't me. I don't care." It's true. I've never gave two shits about the prison system in terms of death penalty, rehabilitation, or punitive action. None of that bothered me. Because I never planned on going to prison. I never planned on my kids or my wife going.
I was a dude who worked at a small non-profit library and whose wife was an author of children's books. My daughter who was only 2 stayed home with my wife. We were a perfect family.
She wrote to kids. I helped families. And, we both were raising the perfect little girl. A kid who was perfect in the sense of curiosity. There weren't many rules in my family. The rules were help foster ideas, curiosity, and growth. But stay away from situations that'd push you in deep.
Again, I'd say we were a pretty progressive family. We helped the community but in just in a calming way! So, why? Why is this dirtbag who broke into my house allowed to get off? Villains? Heros? There is no such thing.
We put powerful assholes in prison just to watch them walk free. The villain that killed my wife and daughter was some offended asshole from another country. Sent some hitmen to kill my wife and child over an illustration book. The illustration?
Well, I'm not going to tell you assholes. What? You think I want to die? No. I don't. Because the rich and powerful get off. The ones with the loudest voices push the narrative.
But the guy didn't just kill my family. No, they made sure to make a clean deal of it. They murdered the families of the publisher, editor, accountant, and our killed our land lord. Why? All she did was make one illustration. And, what do those heroes do? Oh, the investigators of the world. My heroes? Nothing. They fabricate their little stories or hide away the details. Helping these assholes get away.
But I am not letting this slide. There's only one hero I trust. And, that's Spider Jerusalem. Be prepared you fuck wad. I'm coming for you. After I learn from the best.
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[WP] Take a normally boring activity, but make it sound exciting.
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I gently touched the door, wishing to feel the warmth of a living soul behind it. I looked around at the empty bar, and pulled my hand away from the cold door. Without thinking I wandered between the tables, remembering all the interesting people I had helped move on. 300 trillion souls, and I remembered every one.
A knock at the door made my shoulders fall. How was I going to explain this to him?
"Sorry John, but I still can't let you in." I whispered through the door.
"Samantha died this morning. Its my turn now." I put my hand on the cold door and held my breath.
"My wish was to be the last to die. Samantha is dead now and its just me left. Let me in!"
"No." I heard a gasp from the door. "Theres still someone left, so you can't die yet."
"The lights are off! You told me that only happens when the last living soul dies!"
I sighed and opened the door. John was hunched over in his wheelchair, barely able to stay upright. "To be alive you have to be able to die. You can't die until the genie keeping you alive dies, and he can't die until he has fullfilled your wish."
"I didn't wish to live forever! Thats not what I wished for!"
I sighed, remembering the countless souls who have said that.
"Genies are tricky like that. He followed the letter of your wish, so theres nothing I can do. Some things are more powerful than death. If it makes you feel better, the genie is pretty miserable too."
John started to mutter a lot of swears to himself and started to wheel away. I watched him struggle to move his arms, and after a couple minutes I closed the door and turned to the one occupant in the corner.
"You could just let him die. The big one is often lenient with mercy rule breaking."
"No way." The blue being rose from his chair. "Once my last wish is fullfilled, she does an audit of all wishes I ever granted."
"Thats what you get." I chuckled. "Seem cruel though, to make him suffer for eternity to avoid punishment. One day she will realise."
"For me this is not cruel."
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Well, that was that. I sighed softly and reached for the remote. I took a moment to turn up the music a little as I cleaned up my little afterlife bar. Everyone and everything had moved on. My job was done. I could finally hang up the cloak and scythe for a time. Until the next creation event, anyway. But that was a long time coming.
The soft strains of an Old Earth composer, Nobuo Uematsu, his name was, I think, his songs wafted through the bar as I swept and mopped my floors one last time. I would sing along occasionally, and take a moment to dance with my mop. I wiped down the counters, polished all my glasses, stacked up all the chairs.
I ambled over to the front door, looking out over the afterlife, smiling warmly as I saw a few people I recognized. Abraham Lincoln, Samaus of the Consortium, Peregin of the Hegemony, Kth'lak of the Uzu Federated Planets. Kth'lak loved his decaf iced coffee. Weird for an Uzu to enjoy a human drink, but he still bought one occasionally. I would wave to the occasional passerby, the children would still beg me to play monsters and aliens, or cowboys and indians, or specops and opfor, or whatever variant. After a long moment, I stepped back inside and hung up my sign, for the first time in millenia. Closed, it said.
I fumbled with my keys for a moment, and made sure to lock the door before ambling across the floor. There was a soft click as I tapped the lightswitch, plunging my little slice of afterlife into darkness. As I turned to leave, something stopped me.
A gentle knock on my front door, and a voice calling out.
"Hey, anyone in there?"
(feel free to continue this, guys. wanna see where you take my tale.)
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[WP] You have been a mountaintop prophet for 1,000 years. Each person only gets one question and you're sure you've heard every question that can be asked. Until one day someone uses their one question to ask, "How are you doing?"
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I've always been a meditator. Staring into the sky or tidepools by the ocean, looking inwards and learning about myself. Then moving on from self study, and on to tinkering with myself. By the time I was twenty five, I had achieved a state I am reasonably sure is the enlightenment described by my spiritual teachers. The frigid cold and inaccessibility of mountain tops called to something in me. I sat on the summit alone for ten days, and I made a breakthrough. I saw truths, islands of time in the past and the present that were stable. Limited future vision and the ability to vouch for the true history of my world.
I took the name Gaius, and made it my life to sit in contemplation. I became a legend, and others would seek me. Each had one question, one thing that I could answer with my capacity to generate prophecies. Years rolled by, and I was eighty eight when I realized I was not aging. My calling would transcend the usual limits of mortality.
Years went by, more visitors coming to me as my renown and the continent's population grew. Questions, mostly about small things, some about things of consequence, and a few that were truly interesting to see the answers to. After almost a millennia, I thought I had heard them all. There could be nothing new to ask me, all would simply be at best a close derivative of one that had come before.
But then, on the precise day of my thousandth year on the mountain top, an unassuming pilgrim came to me. I met her eyes, and I could tell that their question would be one of the interesting ones. Nodding my head to give my assent, she spoke, "How are you doing?"
I tilted my head. No one in my long tenure on this mountain had asked me about myself. I had spent so long looking inward, emptying myself, that I had quite forgotten about the part of me that was flesh. My reserves of will were incredible, but there were some basic truths I had not tuned into. The truth was I was hungry, cold, and my muscles were stiff.
"I.. I have never been asked that. I suppose the truth is that I am tired of sitting up here. I have mastered myself, perhaps more than any before. Part of me would like a change, but I do not know what I would do with myself."
She nodded, a deep capacity for thought and introspection plain in her eyes. "It is true, there are no goals left for you in this life. I could make you an offer. I could send you on your way to a higher plane, a great step up from the life you have lived as a mere human. I would then take your place, and become this mountain's prophetess."
I feel tears form in the corners of my eyes, despite the bitter cold. I have been here for so long, the idea of stepping away from this world and up to an even greater one stirs something deep in my core. My hands, shaking, come up to clasp hers. “Please, yes. Send me onward” She caresses my forehead, and I feel myself begin to fall away. The cord connecting my mind and soul to this place ceases to be.
I tumble, through space, through time. I go towards a blinding light. Then I have a body, a touch. The world is so much richer. I am being born, born in a world so far beyond the world I once knew. I expect the memories of my old life to fade, but they remain as I come to terms with this hyper reality. My thousand years of asceticism and meditation was just the beginning.
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Mortals think I offer games as a kind of last request. The reason varies: last requests on their end, some misunderstanding that winning will return them to life, or even something as simple as boredom on my part. You may ask how my job could be boring, but that's easy to answer. I have to handle every soul one by one, and time shuffles itself like a deck of cards so that even if two mortals die at exactly the same time they still arrive on my doorstep in order and alone. As soon as I finish preparing and sending off one soul, the next comes through. Thus, the job ends up feeling the same, and I get bored.
Thankfully human games have gotten better over the years, more complex. I've played dice with pirates and Roman militants, cards with western gunslingers and French revolutionaries, chess with countless nobles. Long forgotten games dug up by archaeologists are always a fun classic, and they get so excited to finally learn the rules of ancient board games nobody (frustratingly) ever bothered to write down the rules for. In the most recent age, electronic games with screens and buttons of all shapes and sizes have become popular.
I've been challenged on arcade cabinets that feature fighting tournaments and street racing, console games with both story and mindless fun, and computer games featuring strategy and an unfathomably massive library of mods for every game those inventive programmers can get their hands on.
The most recent soul is another painfully young one, and my ancient heart aches even after guiding *so many* of them. I offer a comforting smile to the child as I kneel down to get eye-to-eye with him.
"Welcome, child," I start, bowing my head as my smooth baritone voice gently rumbles the ground. Singers frequently challenged me as well and I'd yet to disappoint. "This is a crossroads for the soul, and I am a humble guide. Take as long as you need to get your feet under yourself and be ready to move on. If you would like, we may play a game of your choosing before such a time comes to pass."
"Guess that answers if the surgery went alright or not," the boy said, smiling sadly at me.
"There's no way to go back? They'll all be so sad now." I raised my head to look at him.
"Where you tread from this place is not up to me, but none may return whence they came. I am sorry, but one wish of many I cannot grant is to return the life you have lost." The boy thought on this for a moment.
"... Then, could I play a game with you? I had a Minecraft world I was working on, but I never got to finish it." My smile was much easier to wear at this, and I chuckled.
"It would be my pleasure. Let us play and build for a while. Would you prefer with mods or without?" Fate has a funny way of being cruel to the undeserving, but i try my best to make up for it after she takes her due. That boys laughter warmed the walls of my home more than any fire could ever hope to as we dug and built for hours. I hope the path he walks after leaving will be a pleasant one.
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[WP] You are a budget mage. While most of your colleagues use costly ingredients, rituals that take weeks to prepare and use a new spell for every problem, you only know a few spells, use common household ingredients and prepare rituals within minutes. They unjustly deride your work as shoddy.
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"I shall bind the stars and bend the whims of a galaxy to soothe thy terrible pain," said the golden mage.
"I shall will the gods to erase this stupendous sickness out of your body," said the silver mage.
"I shall mix some ginger, vinegar and bicarbonate of soda and he shall shite this out of his arse by noon," said the ruffled mage, who had been woken up from his afternoon nap for this.
There was a long, slightly disgusted silence following these admittedly coarse words.
"How barbaric," said the golden mage.
"He's got a stomachache!" shouted the most-definitely angry mage, pointing at the ailing noble, "he's been downing cauliflowers for two days and needs a good fart, this all."
The silver mage scoffed. Not the usual scoff done by the bored person who finds no better way to express having heard words by blowing some air out of the nose and making a face. No. This was more of a show-all-your-disdain-towards-the-lower-classes-in-the-span-of-an-instant scoff. Unfortunately for the silver mage, the mage who was done giving a crap had gotten the message.
"Oi! Cunt!" he shouted, rolling up the sleeves of his nightgown, revealing some very non-scholarly forearms, "why don't you come here and make that face right before mine?" By the time he was done asking the question, the silver mage had already dived under a low table.
"It was a really bountiful cauliflower harvest this year," said the noble who hadn't been asked, "I had to celebrate by eating lots of cauliflowers."
"I can still bend the stars and galaxies if needed," said the golden mage to nobody in particular.
"Listen mate," said the aggravated mage to the noble while starting to throw ingredients into a cauldron and lighting a fire in the middle of the chamber, "I cook this, you drink it, you fart. Pain's gone. But open the window, because it's about to smell."
Three pair of eyes looked at the cauldron and fire with some confusion. Normally, a mage would make them appear out of thin air. This mage didn't. He had carried ingredients, cauldron and firewood with him.
Which was all the more impressive considering he had been woken up minutes ago without being told what the problem was.
"It was a really, big, bountiful cauliflower harvest," said the noble to break the silence, not realizing silence would have been preferable to hearing his voice, "we even had lots of cauliflower thefts and there's still enough for everyone."
The silver mages, from the flimsy cover of the low table, contorted to point at the cauldron in confusion.
"Wot u lukin at, mate? When was the last time you had to lift a curse or kill a dragon? 99% of the time it's a cow suffering from gas, or a noble suffering from gas, or a noble who wants a new perfume (which can also be considered gas depending on how you look at it). You think they'd write books about dragons and curses if it was common? Nah mate, it's because it's so rare that it's interesting. But this!" The angry mage planted his index in the noble's belly, which left out a noise warning about an incoming bad smell, "that's reality for most folks around here."
"I really wanted to bend the stars and galaxies."
"Bend them somewhere el... what's that noise?"
Indeed. Beyond the fascinating discourse about a variety of gazes, the boiling kettle and the bickering mages, a low rumble rose. Mighty, powerful. Roaring.
"A dragon!" shouted the silver and golden mages.
"U wot mate?" asked the not that well behaved mage.
Gold turned to a comet and sprang out the window, silver levitated - with the low-table on his back and followed gold. They were gone in a whisk to deal with the legendary, once-in-a-millenium threat, while the exhausted with this nonsense mage stayed to make a rich person fart.
To this mage's credit, it worked wonders, and the sweet scent of digested cauliflowers filled the room with the praise of a very happy noble as the trumpet of judgement times started to roll outside and the stars were about to fall on Earth like angry comets.
The gold mage appeared in a whirlwind of golden dust.
"Believe it or not, and I know I don't," he told his esteemed if hard to work with colleague, "but I need your help."
"How?"
"I translated the dragon's tongue with the power of stars and galaxies. Didn't think I'd get to use it today."
"And?"
"He's got a stomachache."
"Oh."
A whirlwind of silver dust, and in came the other mage.
"I can bend the will of the gods so they lend us a bigger cauldron. And lots of bicarbonate too, you know, just in case," said the silver mage.
The room got dark. Through the window, the large, iridescent eye of the dragon obscured their world and gazed through them.
"Aye. We gonna need a really big cauldron for this one," said the surprised mage.
"So that's the one who stole all the cauliflower!" the noble felt the need to add.
All three mages turned to face the noble.
"Man, shut the fuck up," they said in unison.
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"There! All set and done! Aetherium luminata!"
The chanting voice of Phyldiane filled the dark, cobblestone-lined room with trembling echoes, as her cooking pot over the brightly-blue sparkling flames glows with its embers. It was a success! And the slightly charred pot was filled with a cyan liquid, whose turbulent, oil-like essence swirl amidst the heat.
"I did it! Ha! A lightning buff potion!"
She danced quite a bit upon her success. She was so proud of her work. And what's more, none of her fellow classmates at the Incantorium Academica ever knew that she only spent a meager 5 white pearls on her ingredients.
"Take that, Mistulia! Once I show this to them tomorrow, that shoddy witch can shut the hell up on me!", she uttered in a gruntled tone as she slowly brews the cooked potion onto her glass bottle. In her mind, she insistently remembers what happened earlier at the Incantorium with the confrontation she has with her after class.
"You crazy! That's impossible, flea den.", Mistulia insisted, looking straight at Phlydiane's face. "Either you have to pay for a diamond crystal for it or you take months of cooking for that lightning buff potion to get."
"Nah, I can do it in hours, even tomorrow!", Phlydiane confidently told her. "Don't make it sound impossible just because I am better than you.", she said as her eyes rolled out.
"Oh, look who's talking. That one girl who thinks she is so good and can defy magic rules just because she got an A+ score in Mrs. Gemphrian's test!", Mistulia said in a mocking tone. "You will never do that, flea face, that is what the Book of Incantarions say is the minimum."
"Your rules don't apply to me, oh please. Unlike you who sticks with your books, I can make my own ways and explore. You are just smart, but not creative."
Mistulia casually puts her hand in her bag as if she is getting something.
"Alright, let's make a deal young lady. If you don't have a lightning buff potion by tomorrow, you drink this!", Mistulia said as she shows a bottle of brown liquid.
"What the hell is that?", Phlydiane asks in quite disgust.
"Oh, just my little ventrem confractio bottle. Drink it, and see how you puke your guts all over the place to my heart's desire!", Mistulia said with a grin.
"Deal! However if I brought, YOU drink that crap.", Phlydiane told her.
"Oh sure, either way. I will not drink this, trust me. You better off prepare your leather bags as you barf all over the place. Face me tomorrow, 2 AM at the moonsilver fountain at the plaza."
Phlydiane agreed to her demands, and walks away while being stared at with her classmates around her.
"Why are you staring at! Get off your lives, suckers! I got a job to do!", she said angrily as she hurried home.
Phlydiane, just finished with he potion work, raises her lightning buff bottle. At that moment her father, the great mage-alchemist Pernigcian, enters her room.
"Oh, what's that young lady? An experiment underway? You like to follow my work, don't you?", her father said as he folds his magic robes away. Chaffed with a beard and wearing his spectacles, he turns towards his daughter as she spoke.
"Yeah, I did this potion. Because my classmate couldn't believe me that I can make this in just a short time. So I made a bet on her."
"Really? You making bets now? That doesn't sound too nice for you to do."
"They just don't know your methods, father. They don't know your ideas and kept insisting that age-old Incantations book! Your ideas of alchemy can change magic!"
Her father laughed quite a bit, and patted her on her shoulder.
"Phlydiane, be responsible, okay? I don't want to reveal this to anyone. I trust you to keep it a secret."
"Why do you want it to be secret? This is marvelous!"
"Phlydiane, I don't know what will happen. If people found out about this, they might saw us as sorcerers, using black magic. And all I just want is your safety. I don't want you to get into trouble. So please, keep our methods secret, okay?"
Phlydiane reluctantly agrees as her father embraced her.
"Care to take a look at what you have done?", he asks her. Phlydiane reaches out her glass bottle.
"The lightning buff aetherium luminata. Let me guess, you used coal for this, right?" Phlydiane smiled a bit. "Coal and diamond are just the same form of one thing, just arranged differently. And that is what makes this possible. You will really make expense of doing it the old way. But hey, this is the last time you will do this. Keep it hidden as much as possible, okay?"
"Very well, father. I'll keep my promise.", Phlydiane agrees.
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j7afa0i
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[WP] You wished to find a dragon to slay for its treasure. Now you're not sure how to feel seeing a thumb-sized dragon try to drag its single shiny copper coin with it as it runs away from you.
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"Daddy, he's so cute." Judith clutched my hand as the tiny red dragon dragged its hoard, a single copper coin, across the floor of the cave. "Can I have him?"
I sighed, sliding a platinum coin from my pouch into her grasp. "Alright, dear. If that's what you want."
"Here, Draggy." I watched my daughter slide to her knees, offering the coin to the miniature monster. Like her sister she'd inherited my elven appearance, with only a slight crimson tint to her skin testifying to her demonic mother. "Here, don't you want this pretty coin?"
The tiny dragon stared up at her, growling, then sniffed, its attention suddenly on the silver coloured disc in her fingers. "Aww, come on, little guy."
I stepped back, taking a seat, leaning against the wall, the bulk of my brigandine thumping against the stone. The dragon cast a glance in my direction, then returned to the coin, obviously wondering if it could grab the platinum and run.
"Father..." Delilah entered the cave, feet padding softly. The dragon tensed at her words, and Judith gave her an angry look.
"Shush." Delilah's golden eyes narrowed in confusion, then she saw the dragon Judith had dubbed 'Draggy'.
"Wait? That's the dragon?" She joined me by the wall, leaning back, her long scabbard bumping my shoulder.
"Seems to be." I slipped my hand into another pouch and handed her some jerked meat. "Guess we'll see what Judith can do with him."
"I guess so." Delilah bit into the meat with sharp teeth.
"Sheesh, you two." We both heard Judith mutter as she returned her attention to the little dragon. "Come on, Draggy."
The dragon hesitated, looked at Delilah, then me, then Judith again, sniffing at the coin proffered. "Come on, Draggy." Her voice was soft, cajoling.
The tiny dragon slowly began to approach, keeping itself between Judith and its one copper coin. Judith's gaze was predatory but, given their succubus mother, that was a look both my girls defaulted to.
It sniffed again, its snout brushing my daughter's slender fingers. Delilah's, like mine, bore the calluses of swordwork, but Judith worked magic far beyond the level we could manipulate. Her fingers were still soft, unmarked even by the fire she wielded with such skill.
'Draggy' clambered onto Judith's hand, stretching out to touch the platinum coin. "It's yours, if you want it," she told the small beast, "but I have a lot more you might like."
The dragon looked up, a question on its tiny face. "Of course. Silver, gold, lots of platinum. All the gold you could ever want." I found myself chuckling at that. Dragons were not renowned for their modest appetite for gold, even dragons less than two inches long. "Dad?" She asked over her shoulder.
"Yes?"
"The coin pouch, give it to me." I instantly had regrets. A dragon, however small, would quickly come to resent me dipping into 'its' coin purse. Delilah placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Here, use mine." She slipped the pouch from her belt, then floating it to Judith with a touch of will. "What happened to yours?" Judith shook the pouch open, glancing into it to confirm its contents before answering.
"Oh, you know. Buying this and that." The two of us sighed in unison. Delilah was pleasantly frugal, but money ran through Judith's fingers like water. Thankfully it was Delilah who did our budgeting.
Judith offered the open bag to Draggy, the tiny dragon seemingly overwhelmed by the handful of gold coins presented. Without further hesitation it dived in, its small body causing the coins to clink against each other.
Judith laughed, tipped the platinum into the bag, then stooped and lifted the copper coin, dropping it into the bag too. "See, so cute."
Her sister and I joined her, looking over her shoulder into the bag. Draggy lay half buried in coins, the expression on its reptilian face as close to beatific as a dragon was ever likely to display. "So cute." Delilah echoed her younger sister.
I sighed. I guess we have a dragon now. A very very small dragon.
|
'Seriously? That's it!?' Marion exclaimed, face folded with disbelief. The two Martinez twins had roughly the same annoyed shock on their faces. 'We come all this way for this thing! We could be out doing a job and make some actual gold, not chasing a dragon cub I could fit in my shit pocket!'
The two of them glared at Michael in unison, as the silvet-haired young ranger sheepishly raised his hands, despite one of them still occupied with his shotgun. "I dunno, just heard rumours of a dragon and I thought it would be a right exciting adventure!"
"Well I like him!" Maxine interjected indignantly, the miniscule dragon and its prized penny held delicately in her paw.
'Of course you like him!' came the gruff voice of Marco Martinez, joining his sister in judgemental scorn. The canid Maxine whined, fluffy ears arched pathetically back. The inhuman rogue was inches away from invisibility before Michael laid a gloved hand on her shoulder to cool her nerves.
From the sideline, a wheezy laughing reverberated through the cave. Every head of the party turned to look at him. Milo, the team's ice wizard, was laughing to himself as he adjusted his glasses.
'Oh goodness, you are *so annoyed!* Totally worth it, just for that.'
Marion growled, more becoming of the canid of the party. Her brother tried to restrain her, to little avail.
'It's fine, its fine. Sorry, this whole thing is just *hil-arious!* I mean, Michael, where did you hear about this little guy from?'
"Well there were those guys back at the Rocking Stone Tavern, remember?"
'You mean the jackass 'rivals' who tried to kill us?'
"Y-yeah. I remember their mage babbling about a dragon over by this location after you smacked him silly." He gestured to Marco, a swift moment of pride washing over the brawler as he admired his oversized metallic fists. "Just... figures it would be pathetic."
Maxine was still occupied with the miniscule dragon, cooing as she poked its scaly snoot with a finger. "Can we keep her? I so want to keep her,she is just so cute!! Oh, can we name her? I'll name her Maddy!"
Marco gave her a pained glare as he rubbed his forehead, Milo's cackling audible just behind him. 'You- you know what? Fine. Sure. Keep the damn thing. I don't care.'
Meanwhile Marion was scratching her chin as she turned on a heel, pointing a finger toward Michael, who was presently fiddling with his armour plating.
'Hey, Michael, you didn't happen to hear this rumour from their mage with the dumb orange hat that looks like a traffic cone, did you?'
"Oh yeah, I did, what about it?"
Marion mouthed the word 'shit' as with perfect comedic timing, the aforementioned traffic cone-clad mage stepped out from behind a rock and with him, a crowd of necromanced forest critters.
"'Ah, the Maladies, I see you've fallen for my ingenious trap, *again.*'"
"Hey, come on, there was some gold-finding potential in that one, screw off!" Michael objected.
"'No matter, with my *army* you won't survive! Because it totally worked last time!'"
Marion groaned, as her brother smiled from ear to ear as his metallic hands coiled into multi-kilogram fists. Milo was still absolutely losing it over the whole situation.
"We won't let you touch Maddy, orange guy! Never!" Maxine spat, clutching the now very confused cub in her hands.
Michael nodded, racking his shotgun and thrusting it into the air triumphantly.
"FOR MADDY!" He shouted, followed by the rest of the gang with varying levels of seriousness, as the Maladies charged into battle again.
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m8u27i9
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m8se1fm
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[WP] As a genie you take great pride in deliberately misinterpreting every wish to make it as horrible as possible, but the wish you received today is the first wish that you not only have no idea how to make any worse, but you feel that even just fulfilling it as stated would be going too far.
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"I wish for it to get worse."
"It?"
"I wish *everything* would get worse, for *everybody*. Me, you, my family, your family if you have one. Every single being, everywhere. On this Earth and others, throughout every molecule of existence, and across all timelines.
I wish for every win to be worthless and for every loss to be felt indefinitely.
I wish for everyone who attempts to make things better fails.
I wish for them to blame themselves for it all.
I wish those responsible for the suffering of others to suffer with them, by their hands even.
I wish that they never forgive each other.
And I wish they never stop searching for forgiveness.
I wish for my dad to never stop cheating on my mom.
I wish that he never stops gambling.
I wish that he never gains it all back.
I wish for him to tear himself apart from guilt forever.
I wish for her to never leave him.
I wish for her to never believe that she deserves better.
I wish for them to forever try to save what they know should just be put down.
And I wish for them to bring more children into their lives.
I wish they never stop going to church.
I wish they never stop letting Reverend Green back into our house.
I wish I had acid saliva.
I wish I had AIDS.
I wish it would mutate into something worse.
I wish for a cure to never be found.
I wish for them to catch him.
I wish for a long, drawn-out trial at taxpayer's expense.
I wish for him to drop the soap everyday in prison.
I wish for him to live.
I wish for him to come back to his job.
I wish for them all to welcome him back.
I wish for them to lie through gritted teeth that they forgive him.
I wish that they never stop wanting to kill him.
I wish that they never have the strength to do it and their self-pity and shame lives on forever.
I wish that they never stop blaming themselves.
And I wish that they never trust anyone again.
I wish for climate change to be irreversible.
I wish for the worst case scenario.
I wish everyone who tried to stop it knows that it's their fault for not trying enough.
I wish for the plots of those who benefited from it all to fail.
I wish their bunkers are raided and their hoards of wealth burned to ashes.
I wish their corpses were paraded in a final celebration of victory.
And I wish it tasted sour.
I wish for absolutely everything to get worse, and for everyone to know it.
I wish we could stop once and for all pretending that hope can get us through anything.
And I wish everyone had a god damn keloid scar on the center of their chest that never stops itching and cannot be removed."
"..."
"..."
"Holy fuck kid. Maybe you should just wish for a therapist."
|
"As you wish." I laughed.
The man in front of me he faded from existence. The fool wished to be famous across the world, so I turned him into a character in the most popular book at the time.
What a memory, how long has it been since then? I do not know, being trapped in this lamp. The only thing keeping me going is the thoughts of those cursed by foolish wishes.
That's when I feel it, someone is rubbing the lamp. Time to work, hopefully this next memory will keep me going for even longer.
Emerging from the lamp, I see my environment, a damp dark prison. The person who summoned me was none other then a despicable inmate, this one will be fun to mess with.
"I am the mighty genie of the lamp! State your wish!" I bellow.
"My wish is for me to die a horrifically painful death."
"All right, your wish is... Wait, you wish for what?"
"To die painfully, make it bad, I hear drowning is quite terrible, maybe something like that, but have it so it last for months instead of minutes or some uncurable cancer..."
"Hold on, why would you want that?" I interrupted.
"Because I deserve it." The prisoner states.
"There is no way, you truly believe that. Why not wish for freedom or something instead." I suggest.
Honestly this guy was making me uncomfortable and is taking the fun out of this. I'm cruel but, this just seems extreme.
"Freedom is exactly the problem. I'm getting pardoned. I deserve to be punished!"
"If you are being freed that means justice is...."
"Oh just stop, you're just like everyone else!" The prisoner grumbles before turning away.
"What do you mean master?" I question
"Everyone, even the victim's family, says the accident wasn't my fault. It is bullshit, I don't deserve mercy, why does no one get it."
"I don't know what you did, but a solution can be reached though that will satisfy everyone."
"Oh?" Questions the prisoner.
Writing on a piece of paper, I hand it to the prisoner. Looking at it, the inmate's eyebrow raised suspiciously.
"You really think this is the best wish to do instead."
"I do"
"Fine, I'll go along with it. I wish that I get exactly what I deserve as you decide and that everyone will be magically okay with the results."
"As you wish." I state
The magic swirls around us, soon I shall know what this man did, and give him exactly what he deserves.
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jg3tt7r
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jg3jwpo
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[WP] Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You're not lucky, you're not unlucky, you're... something else.
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Doc called it "Zero Sum State". Said it was like a force of nature that overrode the laws of physics. Said it 'shouldn't be possible'. Everything returns to zero. No permanent gain, no permanent loss. Like how a car will eventually settle to a stop, that's an unchanging constant of the universe. I remain constant. Conservation of mass & energy? Don't apply. Probability? Broken. I can't even get a haircut because the next time I look in the mirror it's reverted back to how it was. Can't buy new clothes after the incident that caused all this. They always vanish in some absurd way. Unraveling on a loose nail or disappearing in the wash. Can't even keep more than $50 on my person, course I can't dip below it either. Finding exact change on the sidewalk is something else, man. But the worst part is that I can't ever sate this hunger or thirst. Can't scratch the itch I was feeling at the moment when it happened.
​
When the particle accelerator exploded I should have been dead. I can even feel death right now, the shrapnel in my chest. It's quantum locked in place, because if it wasn't I'd turn into a fine red mist as it tore me apart. The radiation that is frying my brain at all times is counteracted, dissolved by some alternate force that even Doc couldn't describe. I see that moment at all times frozen in my left eye, the side that was caught in the blast. At least my right eye is normal. When Doc was explaining all this I really couldn't believe it. Still don't really understand it. But I'm a simple guy, really. I wake up in the morning, put my socks on one at a time, and go to work. That's all anybody can do, right?
​
Well, they don't call me "The Equalizer" for nothing, I guess. Bullets, grenades, fire, water, don't matter. It's all reset to zero eventually. Can't say that for the guys who they sic me on, though. They stay dead. Lucky as they are. But it comes with perks, I guess. I can still enjoy the luxury food and apartments they send me to. Still get to fly first class even though my passport is expired. Job keeps me plenty entertained. One time they asked me to off this guy in Monaco. I got into his car and cut the brakes, hid in the trunk. The crash was a wild ride, I'll tell you.
​
But it's finally time to say goodbye. I'm here at the cite of the incident, looking down into the vortex it left behind. As we speak the guards are coming, but they won't get here before I'm gone. No chance of it, zero.
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It's a Friday night, and I'm at the bar **trying to get lucky**. Unfortunately, I already know what will happen when I'm up to swing. I'm not going to strike out, but I'm not hitting a home run either. If the odds of success are fifty-fifty, I'm going to reach exactly second base. No more, no less.
I find a spot at the bar. "What can I get you," he asks.
"Surprise me, Johnny"
"Sure thing," he winks. He begins going through the bottles on the shelf one by one, dumping a sip of each into a glass. What is he doing? Then he hands it to me. "Here's your drink!"
I glance at the glass, realizing my mistake. "Actually, I'll have an Old Fashioned. I'll still pay for that, of course."
Johnny looks at the glass and turns red. "No, it's on the house. I mean, exactly half of it is on the house. I mean... I swear I don't know what's going on today!" Johnny is cute when he gets all flustered like that.
"So, Johnny, help a guy out. Who's single here that I could ask out?"
He motions to a guy by the pool table gripping a cue. “Last I heard, Kai over there just broke up with his boyfriend a few weeks ago.” He nods towards a muscular guy wearing a tank toward his right. “Anton’s pretty-chill too. He’s a regular.” Johnny laughs, and slips in, “I’m single too, of course.”
“You think I’ve got a shot?”
“With them? I’d say you’ve got a chance if you flex that manly charm you’ve got,” he teases.
“... and with you?”
He scratches his head and grins. “Well, if someone like you happened to ask out someone like me, I’d say the someone like me would be an idiot to not say yes. If that were to hypothetically happen, of course.” He’s turning red again, but hasn’t lost his air of confidence.
It feels like there’s an invisible rope that’s tugging me toward him. Our eyes lock, and it’s electricity. His chest comes closer, and he grabs my arm, outlining my biceps. It’s exhilarating. He’s overpowering my thumping heart.
“Would you—”
“Yes. 100% yes,” he says, drawing closer still.
If the odds of success are fifty-fifty, I’ll reach second base. But Johnny and I are a certainty, an inevitability.
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lub7u2n
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jmg1tc5
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[WP] After Earth was declared a galactic safe haven, anti-xenoterrestrial sentiment began to rise. You, a second generation immigrant from another planet, calmly walk down the street when a voice yells at you "Go back to Mars!" You snap back "I was born in Chicago!"
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“You did fucking what?!” Glenvarr, the dark elf screamed from his containment chamber.
“Well, Glen, can I call you Glen?”
“My name is Glenvarr, The Dark Lord, Drow of Demise, The absolute end, enslaver of…”
“Yeah anyways Glen, it’s all simple really.”
Glenvarr seethed with rage. Curtis smiled. It’s what he’s been trained for.
“You came back three times before this, and everytime either enslaved half the world’s population, or almost ended it, after the third time, people start to take you seriously. So when you so kindly announced you’d be back in a thousand years after Curtham The Bold cut you down, he formed the order of the bright blade. We’ve been huntin’ monsters for a thousand years using technology as it progresses and finding new ways to gank you guys. You’re a vampire dark elf. Granted you’re one of the originals, so the same rules don’t apply to you, but..” he traced the scar over his right eye socket. “… I’ve fought a few of your kind before.”
“That still doesn’t explain all this!”
“Oh right, damn. Talking about that stuff made me forget. These are turrets. You ever somehow break outta that box and they’ll pump you full of silver and holy oil so you can’t move, then twelve of the best knights in the order will march through that door and kill you slow. The container itself is an impenetrable prison designed especially for you. I hope you enjoy eternity you bastard.”
“Wait… there’s something familiar about you. The scent in your blood… it’s the same as His… as Curtham’s.”
Curtis stood up and leaned up against the unbreakable window
“You’re damn right it is. He’s my ancestor, and I’m the first one in a thousand years immune to vampirism. That’s why I’m assigned to you. Your downfall is my blood right. You ever figure out a way past all this, I’ll end you myself, Fang.”
Glenvarr slumped into a chair they had provided for him. He had no idea how they got into the crypt or how they carried him to gods know where, and sealed him in a box made of some unbreakable alloy that burns like silver when he touches it, but he had to figure it out. Forever is a long time. He pulled a book off his shelf. At least he could learn and plot his escape.
As Curtis walked down the hall he heard an enraged scream and chuckled.
“Knight Captain! The vampire is frenzied!”
The scholar in the war room turned to Curtis.
“What did you do?”
Curtis laughed.
“Every book in that cell has one sentence in its pages.”
“What would that be?”
“Fuck you Fang.”
|
*Ahh, here we go again.*
"First, mister, I was born in Chicago. So Mars is as wrong as it gets. Second-"
I paused. *No way...*
An old man, wizened and wrinkly, leaning against his food cart like he would on a walking frame. Frail as he may appear, no one else could have spat that venom.
"You, get lost. Go back. GO BACK!" His arms flailed wildly, and I really wasn't sure if he was gesturing away or upwards.
Were I not holidaying in the Asian Federation, I would've thought this was just another day Stateside. But this *is* Asia...you'd think that after all those years of accepting cultures more diverse than that on the colony ship my parents arrived in, they'd truly be able to live out their creed: "Strength in diversity."
I guess in a nation this large, you'll find your oddballs...
When Xanari are upset, we shudder, a silent cry that humans often mistake for being cold. I've only known a few humans who can tell the subtle difference, that there's actually a rhythm and cadence to it. This time, it was different. I collapsed to the ground; I felt *everything*. The unfairness, the rottenness of rejection, the sense of betrayal in the place I called *home*...I let out what humans call a howl, something Xanari only do when they are in pain. It was just too much...
Through the howling, I missed a commotion. The elder was having a sharp verbal exchange with someone. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a soothing voice in an unfamiliar accent.
"Hey, don't be upset. He's just a mean old man stuck in the past. Our future is changing...don't be upset, 'kay?"
I looked up. A human, an angelic face in the equatorial sun. A Reedian walked up, and offered a paw to help me up. Another human came up and offered me a drink. A Qwellian explained to me that she gave the old man a piece of her mind.
*Strength in diversity.* For a moment, those words actually meant something. "You're American, right? You should check out the Temple Street, you're gonna get really nice selfies there!"
I smiled. There will be the oddballs...and there will always be the ones who care.
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jbcg0ll
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jbbd6d0
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[WP] You've been abandoned on the battlefield, the enemy closing in. Forsaken by heaven and countrymen, you retreat to the deepest corner of your mind. If your gods won't help, perhaps the inner dark will. You cry out to the void. It answers.
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Nothing from my Marine training had prepared me for this kind of war. We could take any threat made by man, but the strange creatures of energy that had invaded our world seemed unstoppable.
Just like every other engagement, they had rolled over our troops, burning men and women with searing light, annihilating dozens with each blast. Our guns had no effect and now morale was non-existent.
The ranks had broken and my allies had left me behind, burned and too weak to try to retreat. I could hear the strange, high-pitched hum of the humanoid creatures of golden light as they swept through the bodies to finish off any still clinging to life. In moments, my life would be over.
And then what? I wondered. I didn't know if I believed in Heaven. When these things had first descended upon us, people had called them angels. But they had not communicated in any way and they were slaughtering us by the thousands. If they were angels, was Heaven truly my destination? Would I even want to be there?
I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheek. God had betrayed us. And if light was the enemy, then perhaps darkness would be my ally.
"Yes," whispered a voice in my mind.
Behind my eyelids was nothing but utter blackness. I stared into that void deep within.
"H-Help... Me..." I barely managed to breathe the words. It was enough.
My entire form began to vibrate at a low frequency, putting out a sonorous, bass hum. My eyes snapped open as life and vigor returned to me. One of the 'angels' was staring at me, hesitating for a moment
Energy flooding through me, I rose to my feet, my useless rifle forgotten. I could see tendrils of inky blackness emerging from my body as the darkness spread around my form.
The enemy screeched unnervingly and produced glowing, golden sword of light. I felt no fear, only a cold certainty from the void which steeled my nerves.
My enemy shot toward me, slashing with its weapon and I dodged to the side more nimbly than I could've anticipated. The tendrils of darkness lashed out in response, slashing through the sword and causing it to dissipate.
My body was now fully covered in that cool, protective darkness and I knew I could harm this being of light. I leapt toward it, striking it with blow after blow that caused it to dim and flicker as the darkness overcame the light.
In moments, the dwindling creature of light was snared in my tenebrous tentacles. It seemed to be trying to communicate, perhaps to ask for mercy. It would receive none. In a sudden jerk from several angles, I tore the creature into pieces that faded quickly out of existence.
There came shrieks of rage from the energy beings that remained. I could see that they meant to overwhelm me. Yet, I knew my ally would not desert me. The darkness, my own inner void whispered, and I raised my arms.
All around the battlefield, fallen soldiers, dead and wounded both, began to rise. The void gave me my army and I felt a sudden visceral satisfaction as the 'angels' withdrew.
This was only the beginning. With this power, we would annihilate the enemy and get to the truth of the matter.
And if it turned out these things were angels, sent by God, I vowed not to stop until that son of a bitch was dead too.
|
The enemy rolled forward like a force of nature. Swords and spears and screaming. Men died. Men screamed. Men wept. But still the enemy rolled forward.
I fought. I slashed and stabbed. I parried. I worked through the sword forms like a machine. None who met me on the field passed me.
Hour after hour I fought. Fatigue was burning through me. My muscles burned for respite that never came.
I prayed to all of the God of the Parthenon. I prayed for a merciful death. I prayed for strength to continue on. I prayed that my wife knew I loved her. I could not feel any of the Gods as I slayed the enemy. None came to me.
I stood alone in the field of battle - the enemy weary of my twin blades. Each death given shape. They huddled but five feet out of my reach, waiting for me to falter. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I am death given form. If the Gods won’t help me then to hell with them - bring me the devils!
I reached deep with in myself. I stopped praying and I offered up my soul! Bring me victory or bring me death!
The void spoke to me. The darkness within my very soul rang out - “what do you offer” it said.
“Take what you will. My mind is mine - the rest is yours!”
I darkness curled out of me - thick and Smokey. My muscles became tight and big. Another set of arms grew from my shoulders. My hair fell out and eyes opened in the back of my head. I could feel my teeth grow and sharpen.
“Go -child of darkness. Go claim victory or die gloriously!” I heard in the back of my mind.
I picked up not one but three swords - one for each hand. I chewed through the masses before me. Any unlucky enough to make it past my blades found my teeth.
I ate as I decimated the troops before me. Their blood ran like rivers down my face and body as I mowed through them. They could not come fast enough so I leapt and landed fifty feet into an angry throng. Ah, the death! I delighted as they rushed towards me. I ate. I killed. I was one with the symphony of death.
The sun rose. The sun set. I fought still. I felt weaker with the sun up. I felt strong with the sun down. Time means nothing to me. I fought. I ate. I fought some more.
As the sun set on the fourth day they stopped coming. I stood ready. Four arms. Four swords. Come at me if you dare.
The army of the damed broke before me. A three stripe general stood before me.
“What do you want?” He asked?
“Only death shall stop me!”
Wave after wave rolled upon my swords. The darkness whispered sweet nothings to me. I fought on.
The sun set as the last fell upon my swords.
The darkness within my soul cheered! I couldn’t help be be relieved I was alive.
I looked upon my body - mutated beyond belief. What was the price of victory?
————-
Sorry. I am really drunk. I have no idea if the above even makes sense. Via Cancun! This story was brought to you by the power of rum.
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kfmdd8v
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kfm7wjt
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[WP] They said that you could never save the kingdom, that you would fail and die miserably, because you were not the prophesized hero. And when you returned after saving the realm on your own, instead of welcoming you as a hero the king banished you, as it was not your place to save them.
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A king stood at his balcony, looking towards the horizon as a small blue dot slowly grew. Within moments, the blue dot showed itself to be a person, specifically a lady with blue hair flying towards the king. She safely landed on the balcony, surprisingly, crossing her legs with a smug smile as she asked:
“Guess what happened?”
“…You killed the demon king?”
“You bet!” She announced proudly. “Little ol’ me! The girl that everyone said she couldn’t! But guess what! I may not be the prophesied hero ya’ll spat on about, but I did it! I killed the god damn mother fucking demon king!”
“Your officially removed from your position as 3rd Commander and herby banished.”
“Wh-wh-what?” She sputtered, watching the king walk into his study. She followed him inside, thoughts spinning. “But I just killed the demon king! And I’m not given a single thanks?!”
“Why the fuck would I thank you?” The king said as he grabbed a glass of booze.
“I did what your entire army couldn’t! I killed a tyrant that’s terrorized your people! Why the hell wouldn’t you tha- are you drinking?”
“Yes.” The king said as he jugged the alcohol.
“Y-you never drink.”
“Gee I wonder why! Maybe it’s because I never had to handle war fare until now!”
“Excuse me?”
“The guy wasn’t even a tyrant! He was in a war with a nation trying to steal their magic resources! All of that shit about him being bad was some bullshit the enemy nation was spouting as an excuse to gain support! Weren’t you apart of the meeting when we talked about this?”
“…I was training.”
“I heard you went to the pub.”
“I-I did after training. Which is where I… heard about the king being a tyrant… oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right. And because of that, your no longer associated with this kingdom. I’m removing your powers as well as punishment.” The king held up a blue crystal.
“W-wait! Your making a mistake here!”
“I made a mistake letting my cousin wield so much power. Now I’m gonna fix it.” He then tightly squeezed the rock, causing the blue energy to fly out from his cousin, changing her hair back to its original blonde. “I wanna see you gone by noon. Otherwise you’ll be executed.”
“Seriously?! After all we’ve been through?!”
“Yeah. I don’t think I wanna deal with you anymore. Especially when you keep whining about not receiving first commander and some prophecy bullshit you use as a counter.”
“Because it’s true!”
“Because your dumb.”
“Whatever! Your kingdom is ass anyways!”
“Because we don’t hold idiots to a high standard?”
“Yea- no!”
She then stormed off. Leaving the king alone, letting him sit down the glowing blue stone and sift through a book of relatives. “I have a lot of work to do.” He sighed, seeing that he has lots of work ahead.
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(Just a friendly reminder I'm not a native English speaker)
After I defeated him... Lucas... I returned. Knowing my fate would be horrible. I had two good reasons to know this; the king would not like it. He was the prophesized hero, wich also was the reason of his power, his reason of being king. But he would never have done it. He would never have killed his own brother. And as his adviser and best friend, I knew he wouldn't. He even told me he couldn't. So I took his place, and it worked out. Now my punishment would be waiting.
After the long trip home, still wounded, with a broken arm and a horrible cut in my leg. I returned to the kingdom. Not fully sure if it would be my last time entering. I went directly to the castle. Knowing I had to tell him. He was my friend, he had the right to know. The guards told me he was in his bedroom. After some surprised looks from staff I reached his door. I knocked, and I entered.
It was cold in his room. The fireplace was dusty. He sat in a chair while reading. For a second he looked up at me. Then he returned to his book. 'Thomas I...'
'Let me finish my chapter' his words were cold, colder than the room, like ice stinging right through me.
After a few minutes of silence, he closed the book. The loud slam of the book hitting the floor filled the room. 'Where have you been.' He knew where I was, he just wished he didn't, he hoped I would just tell him I had been on a little vacation, with the wife and the kids. But he knew better.
I pulled a ring with a green emerald out my pocket and tossed it to him. His eyes filled with tears but his expression did not change. 'Why' he wisperd. 'You know why.' I made my voice sound as ferm as I could. Ignoring my nerves. One tear rolled over Thomas his cheek, then his expression changed to rage. 'YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO DO THIS.' I tried to keep my calm. 'I know, you were.' Guard entered the room. 'I want this man out of my sight, I don't care where you drop him. As long as he is not in my kingdom anymore.' They grabbed me under my shoulders. 'THOMAS NO, YOU KNOW I DID THE RIGHT THING!' I screamed, but he just sat down in his chair, picked up the book, and started reading again, now with tears rolling down his face.
(I would love some feedback, I normally don't write in English
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l5fs5p0
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l5fowft
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[WP]Your sibling, your parents' least favorite child, died prematurely. They hardly noticed. They certainly didn't shed a tear. Now, during the funeral, they forgot your siblings name - again. It's your turn to 'say a few words', so you do.
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I thought about keeping the peace. I really did. Rick would have. He was, let's face it, a whole lot smarter than me. But i did try. For four, maybe five whole seconds.
Then i saw the look on that bastard's face. He was absolutely revelling in all the attention he was getting as 'the grieving father. ' He was trying to look like he was 'bravely hanging on', but i could see the flash of satisfaction when he hugged women just a bit too long, and the avarice dancing in his eyes when people offered 'anything they could do.'
So I walked up to the podium.
"His name was Rick, Dad. Not Elizabeth or Lizzie. Rick. He hasn't been Lizzie since highschool, you judgemental a$$hole."
"Most of you never met Rick. You're mostly business associates our father is hoping to manipulate. You should know that once Rick stopped toeing the party line our parents had no use for him. And trust me, if you out live your usefulness he will abandon you just as quickly. "
"Rick was my hero. He was brave. He was funny. He was kind. And wow was he smart!!"
"Smart enough to have dozens of different patents, coincidentally in your field Dad. Don't ask me what they are, I'm not that intelligent. But i know that what they do is earn a lot of money. I mean.. a LOT of money."
" And Rick was smart enough to use some of that money to start a company. I think you all know it. It's call Rick Morgan Enterprises. Its the one that just bought your company Dad."
I let that hang in the air for a minute. Just long enough for our sperm donors greed to fight through his embarrassment and rage. I swear i saw the moment he thought he might inherit the company he'd worked for for the last ten years. I gave him just long enough to envision himself enthroned in the top office making everyone grovel
" And before he ever got on that motorcycle, Rick eas smart enough to have a very VERY specific, iron-clad will. "
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What can be said about Terry other than he will be missed?
Tyler was not the best sister in the world but she was always there, in the background.
Taylor wouldn't make a scene or stand out, you would often forget they were there.
Based on the turn out Baylor didn't have many friends or loved ones, I had to remind our parents that her funeral was today.
They still didn't want to come, there was an episode of Friends that they kinda liked was going to rerun but I didn't want to be the only Family member here to remember Blair.
He was not the best son, never did much for the family, would constantly take over the TV so he could watch his shows new episodes every month, even making me share my Netflix profile by adding "and Ferris" after my name. Always a pain to explain to my friends. Actually let me just correct then real quick.
...
Where was I? Oh right Francis is dead and they never did much for me, barely paying for my video games, only driving me around a few times a week. She would always prioritize herself so she could "Go to dialysis"
Their selfishness aside I let them go if they lent me their car and I let them off at the bus stop. Felix would complain "but the bus won't come for an hour and the clinic is only a ten minute drive. Their constant "me me me" was tiring, if they wanted to get their sooner their wheelchair was right there and the hill wasn't that steep.
Her negative qualities aside, she was still a part of my life. This one is for you, I hope your selfishness wasn't so bad that you end up in hell, Limbo is an adequate place for you. Good luck Frank, you are gonna need it.
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j98geu8
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j96tqmd
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[WP] For purposes of crime prevention, the police puts random people into hyper-realistic simulations where they have the motive and opportunity to commit a crime. Based on their choice, they are let go with their memories erased, or punished as if they commited the crime in reality.
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Oh, hello. Guess we're here together for a bit, huh? Before they do... whatever simulation garbage they are going to try. They say it's for rehabilitation, but I don't think either of us believe that. Nice they're giving us a few minutes by ourselves before then.
It's funny, to be back here again. I mean, I have been before. Way back when, I was randomly chosen to... well, you know already, don't you? The simulation stuff the police does. All that great stuff. Did you know it's possible for you to be wrongly convicted off of that? Yeah, I know, crazy. Personally I think someone just wanted to get rid of me, so people got bribed, but I don't know for sure. Doesn't matter though, not anymore.
I got put in prison. How long was it... 5, 6 years? I think so. Did you know that most people in there aren't bad either? I mean, don't get me wrong, there were some bad people. But nobody that I thought was... unforgivable. People make mistakes sometimes.
You know, they set up the simulations to succeed, I think. I bet they get paid more for "every future criminals they stop." If you give someone the motive and opportunity... most would, you know? I didn't. I hold myself too highly for that. Which, coincidentally, is why I think someone got paid off. I did the right thing, so either I was set up, or there was a different metric being measured.
Lots of the people there had worse simulations than I did. You know how it works, right? Give you motive and opportunity to commit a crime, see what happens. But... they fail to account for the grey in the black and white. Sure, people may steal if they haven't eaten in two days and need to feed themselves and a child, but I don't really think of that as wrong. You know? Legally wrong, yes, but morally? Ethically?
...It's shocking how many people I saw there that had messed up simulations like that. Like, they outweighed the legitimate criminals several times over. I'm not exaggerating when I say there was some 9:1 ratio for good people versus people who were actually dangerous. I asked.
So... I kinda realized something. These simulations. Maybe they were good once, but that was a long time ago. There's nothing good about them anymore. So... here. You see this? You recognize it? It's a little thing I had made. Little bit of an EMP, little bit of a computer virus.
I'm heading into that simulation... and I'm ending it. Once and for all. The police are actually going to have to look someone in the eye, come to terms with how that's a real person, before they get arrested. No more "you looked funny" garbage, no more "random" choices. Sure, I may end up dying, or being thrown back in prison forever this time.
Shame that I'm beyond caring, now. I'm doing it for people like you, you know, people who don't deserve all this scrutiny. So hey... live a good life for me, okay? Let them know who you spent the night before the blackout.
Live for everyone who wasn't able to because of these simulations, okay?
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He walked into the convenience store, only to find it empty. No one could be seen over the shelfs of chips, and no sound could be heard from the back room. No music even from the radio that sat in front of the cigarette case.
Hello, he asked?
A chime blipped as the front door swung open and a man stepped into the store.
Hello, the man replied. He looked around for a moment and then walked behind the register.
Do you have a payphone?
Yes, there is one outback. There should even be a small cup with a few quarters there as well if you're lucky. We get a lot stragglers that comeby. I figure a little help will set them in a good way.
Thank you, sir. That's awfuly kind of you. The Patron walked out the chiming door and around the side of the store. There was the payphone as promised, but the cup was missing. He returned through the chiming door. The man was counting bills from the register.
Your cup is missing, said The Patron.
Is that so? Have you seen anyone else around here by chance?
Nope, no one else.
Oh. Well that's alright then. Here, take as much as you want. The man handed the Patron a handful of quarters.
Well I do appreciate it sir.
The man smiled. Forget it even happened. He returned to counting his money.
Another chime and the Patron made his phone call. It should have been brief, but with all the extra change, he could take his time. He talked and talked and smiled. Listened for longer than he felt comfortable, smiled, and said goodbyes.
He returned to the front of the store. An officer greeted him. Good morning.
Hello, officer.
Did you happen to see anyone here by chance?
Well yes, the clerk. He let me use his phone.
Where has he gone?
Gone? Well... I don't know. I figure he is still in the store.
He isn't.
Huh, he wasn't there when I came inside. Must have left again.
He wasn't here while you were?
No.
I see.
But he did show up.
Is that so?
Gave me some money for the phone.
And how much was that.
A few quarters.
And how about the rest?
The rest of what?
The money.
I don't follow.
Well, it's gone.
Gone? He was counting it when I seen him.
But, you haven't seen him.
Pardon?
The clerk has been missing.
I understand now, but I just seen him.
No, not now. Not today.
I don't know what you mean.
Where is the money?
I still have a few quarters right-
No, the rest of it.
Sir, I am trying to follow-
The store has been robbed.
Robbed?
You were in the store alone and you have the store's money and by your own admittion.
It was given to me.
Come with me, sir.
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jvr78xj
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jvr4dmq
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[WP] I need to address this
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"The enemy stands at our gate." Henry bellowed to the crowd of soldiers.
Their angry yells fuelling his blood for the fight yet to come.
"Will we let them win?" He yelled.
"No!" Came the answer.
"Will we let them win?"
"No!"
"Will we let them win?"
"NO!"
Now was the time to motivate his men, his countrymen to lay their lives for what they believed in.
"We will win. And when we win, we will build our city. Yes, the food resources will almost be depleted. Yes, our farmlands will be razed to the ground. Yes, the disease may follow the dead and make more of our people sick. Yes, our coffers will almost be empty. Yes, our bodies may never recover from the battle. Yes, we will lose people we love."
"Uh, My Lord, I don't think-" His advisor, George, hissed in his ears but his blood pumped for the fight to come.
"We may lose our children, some may even be taken as hostages. Some soldiers may be captured to be taken as prisoners of war. Our women may be-"
"My Lord-" George loudly cleared his throat.
Henry looked down and then realised that the men were silent. He could even hear the cricket chirping in the field nearby. Well, hell
"But they will never break our spirit," He said to the men and the few crickets that were chirping now. "Our backs, maybe."
"What Lord Henry means is that when we win none of this would happen!" George said, trying to rouse the frightened crowd.
"No, no, it may still happen." Henry said shaking his head gloomily.
"What our Lord means is that we should never give up!" George said a little bit desperately.
"We don't really have any other options." Henry mumbled.
"Oh, for fucks sake!" George facepalmed.
*
[You can find more of my stories at r/iknowthisischeesy]
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Nordmen! Tings' may be bleak, but do not despair! Te' elves of te' south ave' come t' our lands wit' supremacy in technology. *Fire sticks* t' call upon tem', lightin' t' bludgeon and gore on command. Steel plates and golden swords tat' cut through armor n' flesh like knife t' butta'! Iron boats'! Lightin' boats! Te' pound te’ walls f' our fortress!
Allied among tem' are te' Celts, Romans, te' Christians, even te’ dark men of Nubia and Egypt, even te' red skin na-ives f' Vinland! And te' Huns…
Uh…
…
Te' elves also… tey' also ave'… *prison camps*. Apparently, half-elves are physically superior t' both f’ us… smar'er too… built like orcs and…
*cough*
Tey' are not f' our women. Tank'fully. Te' Nubians and Celts ave' ad'... relations… wit' te' elves after… after te' battle f' Phelgard. A mere… raiding squad decimated our decorated… honored guard… f' 10,000….
… did I mention half elves reach teir' physical peak in 3 years?
…
But please! Please! Do not despair! We outnumber tem' 26-to-1! Tey' are low on numbers, t' te' point tey' must deploy teir' own women t' combat! Ay, I remember our first encounter wit' a she-elf. She…
… Mi fadur, he laid his axe upon her skull… it… shatt'red… and she… took mi arm off…
…
Nordmen…
“Hersir!”
What say you? Boy?
“We are fucked, Hersir!”
“You wish tey' did tat' 'stead f' killin’ us clean!”
…
Ay. We do be… “Fucked”
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kcp0bsu
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kcor27p
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[WP] As Satan you sometimes receive Christmas lists from children, and normally you just forward them. However the letter you just got had only one request, a parent. You decide to make their wish come true.
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Christmas is a time for soul-searching.
I, of course, have more than I can count.
To sacrifice one’s soul is to give all that one can give. For what? In the sale, one relinquishes all that constitutes the self in return for that which the self craved. The deal can never bring joy, can never bring merriment (except to me, perhaps).
So how is it that the Faustian has turned festive this Christmas season?
I hear the cries of desperate, yearning souls. I hear their lust for power. I hear their gnashing jealousy. I hear their hopelessness and woe. My ears perk up when one invokes my name.
Dear Satan. Dear, indeed. Dearer to you now than you well know.
But, here, a request unspoiled by rotting greed. A request as pure as the driven snow. A request made in crayon.
I’ve known the draught of isolation. I’ve known the lonesome, hollow fear. I’ve been cast out, rejected, forgotten. Why does He continue to wreak this cruelty on souls so young and pure?
Here, in the bleak, frozen season. Here when they forget their fear of fire. Here, where they gather round my warmth, I shall make right what He cannot.
A parent gives up all that they can give for the good of their child. In the rearing, the raising, they let go of all that the self had craved. For the good of the child, they relinquish their soul.
I know so many ready to provide.
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"No, Satan, I'm not putting Hitler inside of a box with a bow on it. He's evil. I'm Santa, not a nazi." Santa boomed, his voice filling his grotto.
"Why ever not, 'Sssanta', after all, aren't you the man sssupposed to make all their dreamsss come true?" He hissed.
"Ho, ho, ho! There are limits. Even 400.. what are they again, oh! iPads, even 400 iPads are too much. And why not just bring back their actual parents?" He asked, horrified at Satan's sheer gall.
"Well, too late now, I sssuppose." Satan replied, turning his back to Santa.
"Wait, no! You can't have!" The jolly man shouted, his wide stomach bouncing in horror.
"Oh, I can, and I have. Enjoy!" Satan said, and disappeared in a haze of blackened smoke.
Santa fell to his knees, shocked at Satan's behaviour. Not only had be brought back Hitler, he'd also gifted a human child presents! That was his thing! It just wouldn't do.
ElfWithAGun was trending by the next day, and Santa could only smile at his elf's quick work.
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m3n3pg3
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m3mmffb
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[WP] You went to the doctor because of back pain. Upon seeing your test results, the doctor exclaimed "What the f*ck! Hold on, I need to contact a biologist." The biologist arrives and looks at what's wrong with your back. "What the f*ck! We need to call a physicist."
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The doctor stares at the X-ray. His hands shake. He moves it closer to the light. His brow furrows. “What the f*ck!” He looks at you. Fear. “Wait. I need to contact a biologist.”
You sit, your back aching. “What’s wrong with me?”
He doesn’t answer. He leaves. The room is cold. Silence stretches. The light hums. You press your hand to your back. The pain sharpens. Something feels wrong.
The door creaks. A woman enters. A biologist. She barely looks at you. She takes the X-ray. She freezes. “What the f*ck!” She whispers. “We need a physicist.”
“What is it?” you ask.
She doesn’t answer. She turns to the doctor. “This is beyond me. We need a physicist.”
The ache intensifies. It’s not just pain. It’s a pulse, a rhythm. Alive. You grip the table. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The biologist glances at you. “Something is in your spine. Not just bone. Not just tissue. Metal. Structured. Growing. Awakening.”
Awakening. The word chills you. The pulse feels louder, like a whisper.
A physicist enters. He hurries in. His face flushes. He looks at the X-ray. He recoils. “No. No, this isn’t possible.” His hands shake. He scans the room. He points a device at you.
“What do you mean ‘not possible’?” you ask.
He lowers the device. His face goes pale. “Your spine is emitting energy. Waves. Patterns. It’s broadcasting. But to what?”
The pain flares. You gasp. The whisper is clearer. It dredges memories. Old sins. Lies. Hurts. Betrayals. Guilt. The things you thought buried.
The physicist says, “It’s feeding. Off something. Guilt, maybe. Regret. Amplifying it.”
The biologist steps closer. “When did the pain start?”
You hesitate. The memory. Six months ago. The betrayal. You took everything. Your best friend’s trust, his love. And the pain began, slow, creeping. Punishment.
“It’s... my fault,” you whisper.
The biologist’s face shifts. Pity. “This isn’t a physical problem. It’s retribution. Whatever’s inside, it’s here because of you.”
The physicist shakes his head. “No. It’s not retribution. It’s a marker. A signal. Something knows what you’ve done.”
The pain surges. The whisper becomes a voice. Inside your mind. “Confess.”
The lights flicker. Shadows stretch. Something moves beneath your skin. The physicist and biologist step back. Fear in their eyes.
You clutch your head. The voice grows louder. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Confess.”
“I lied!” you scream. “I betrayed him!”
The room goes silent. The pain stops. Numbness replaces it. The X-ray cracks. Your spine splits.
The physicist whispers, “It’s responding...”
The biologist shakes her head. “No. It’s judging.”
The lights go [out](https://www.youtube.com/@TheUnseen2025).
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"Answer the question, ma'am. Where are you from, exactly?" the biologist inquired of the woman, who laid prone on the table. A crowd of physicians and interns jostling for space surrounded them, murmuring not so quietly about this odd confrontation.
"London, my dear. Do you suffer from a defect of hearing?" she said in a meek voice.
"And you claim to be 24 years old?"
The woman lay silent, her wide eyes blinking as the crowd waited for an answer.
"Ma'am, I'm only to ask this one more time. Are you sure you didn't suffer some kind of mistreatment?"
"I cannot say with certainty what is your intention," she said, tears forming in her eyes.
"Did someone strap you to a chair? Confine you in some way? Your back..."
"Not in the least," she said. "My mother and sisters were always kind to me."
The biologist looked exasperated, his lips full of words he was unwilling to speak.
"This is quite strange," she said. "It seems as if I'm asleep. You are physician William?" She pinched herself, then shook her head. "What is this light? It's brighter than the sun!"
The biologist shook his head, then looked at the X-Ray again. "What the fuck! We need to call a physicist! This... this... woman's back and mutterings seem to indicate that she's, she's...."
"What on earth are you saying, John?" one of the other physicians said.
"Look at the X-Ray," the biologist said. "Look at her body. She's either been starved and confined or she's, she's... not from this time."
"Starved?!" she said in as loud as a voice as she could possibly muster. "Heavens, no! I am a lady!"
The group of doctors looked perplexed in unison.
"What year is it?" one of them asked her.
"You know, I cannot seem to recall," she said. "I am disoriented."
"Where's her intake form?" someone asked.
"We cannot seem to locate it," the biologist said. "Either a paper form or a computer record. It's as if this lady never existed."
"That's a breach of protocol," a couple of doctors murmured.
"Nobody remembers seeing her in the waiting room either, and when she walked in she was without clothes," the doctor who called the biologist said
"Wait, what?" the crowd said in unison. "She walked in without clothes? How is that? No way!"
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k9q1kfk
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k9pxcb0
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[WP] Write something using only dialogue. Don't even say who is saying what, make the reader figure that out.
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I was met with a unified disgust at first. Oh well. At least these guys could agree on something.
“Who the hell is this?” Pride asked, a hint of disgust in her otherwise smooth tone.
Before I could even get a word in, I recognized the grating voice of Wrath.
“Somebody who’s about to get their ass kicked.”
Greed smirked, jewelry jingling on his neck. “For once, I agree with you. Get this guy out of here.”
I subtly rolled my eyes, stepping up to the long table they were all seated at. It was long, decorated with candles, and the seats all fit the sin that occupied them. Satan sat at the head of the table, his eyes watching with a curious gleam. All the sins were watching me with repulse, except for Sloth, who was asleep facedown on the table.
“What are you even trying to be?” Gluttony asked as they gorged upon a chicken leg.
I didn’t bother to answer for a moment. I just gave a slow, uncaring blink.
“Lost your voice?” Wrath taunted.
“…Nah,” I answered slowly.
Envy glared at me with jealousy. Meanwhile, Pride was staring with a perplexed look as she applied more fiery red lipstick.
“So, like, are you just going to stand there?”
At her words, I sat down in the seat at the end of the table. The blank throne changed to a gray, much like Sloth’s, although colder. More mundane. Wrath narrowed his eyes.
“What the hell are you?”
I eyed him coldly for a moment. Then I shrugged. Satan grinned, as if he’d figured it out already. Pride seemed to be getting as pissed as Wrath?
“Well?! Don’t just sit there!”
Finally, Sloth lifted her head. She groggily stared at me, then glanced around at the other sins.
“…He’s Indifference…” she mumbled lazily, then laid her head back down.
I leaned back in my seat, staring coldly at the others. Indifference, while not considered to be a sin, was one of the most dangerous things to lurk in humanity. I would fit right in here.
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"Who the hell do you think you are to be walking up to us without bowing and groveling beneath me"
"I'm sorry it's just that you looked so incomplete with me I mean how could you walk around with only seven members don't you think that eight would be better especially if I was the eighth"
"AND WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU, DO YOU REALLY THINK WE WANT SOME ASSHAT LIKE YOU TO JOIN US"
"Oh I'm sorry I think I may have forgotten to introduce myself my name is megalomania but you can call me mega for short"
"Oh man I wish I had his name...."
"I wish I had his wallet"
"I wish I had his massive-"
*SHUT THE HELL UP ALL OF YOU I DONT NEED YOU ASSHOLES INTERRUPTING MY CONVERSATION"
"Don't mind them I'm sure they're just curious about who and what I am"
"Nah not really we're all just really bored if a bird got hit by a rock right now we'd be laughing our asses of oh by the way do you got any chicken meat I'm really hungry "
"No but if you let me join I can get you some"
"Really? Then sure you can tag alon-"
"SHUT THE HELL UP YOUR NOT MAKING DECISIONS RIGHT NOW"
"Geez your rude, are the leader of the group by any chance"
"NO! WHY THE HELL WOULD I WANT TO LEAD THESE IDIOTS"
"What the hell did you just call me?! Take that back before I beat you within an inch of your useless life"
*OH YOU WANNA DIE THEN COME HERE ILL SHOW YOU SOME WHO HAS A USELESS LIFE!"
"ok maybe coming here was a bad idea, I'm just gonna go don't mind me..."
Dont be harsh this is my first comment here sorry if it's bad
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jxaokjl
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jxajltj
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[WP] Not only did your best friend find out you're a vampire, but he/she wants you to turn them. You try your best to explain the less obvious downsides to this curse.
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“You can never walk on consecrated ground.”
“I haven’t stepped into a church since I was 15. And besides, I’m an Atheist, I don’t believe in their supposed God and His ‘powers’.”
“You don’t, but they do.”
“Come again?”
“Belief is *power*, my ignorant friend. Just because you don’t believe something does not make it false.”
“S-So God is real?!”
“Real, fake, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that people believe in Him, and as such, His blessed grounds are protected.”
“…Okay. Fine, whatever. I’ll still just avoid churches.”
“Oh, you small-minded fool.”
“What?”
“Do you think that a church is the only place a believer wishes blessed? What of their homes? Their places of work? The building where their children learn? The graves their deceased loved ones are interned? Those little, hidden away spaces that they can hide away from the world from?”
“Y-You’re kidding!”
“My friend, why do you think my kind sequestered ourselves away in far off, dilapidated ruins in the days of yore? For the aesthetic? No, it’s because people prayed for blessings, for protection, and those blessings and protections were granted. Those abandoned ruins were all we had left, and when a wayward traveler wandered into our grasps, we had to strike quickly, lest we be forced to our own homes.”
“Well…you’re doing well now, aren’t you? This place?”
“This cabin far off into the woods, miles from civilization? Oh yes, I’m living the dream.”
“…”
“Just, go home, my friend, and push thoughts of being turned out of your head. Count your blessings, for they shall not burn you to ash.”
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The doorbell rang out through Jenny's house as though heralding the arrival of the hosts of angels.
I stand up from the couch. My lungs haven't needed to breathe in 60 years, but I still sigh in relief just from the muscle memory. "I'll get it." Maybe she'll reconsider now.
I open the door for the UberEats driver delivering a hamburger meal with onion rings. I hand the man a tip and return to Jenny with the meal in hand.
"Did you order dinner?" Jenny asks.
"Yeah, my treat." I take a breath that wouldn't normally be necessary, then dig through the bag and hand her the pack of onion rings, breathing out as gently as possible so I can make the airflow last as long as possible.
As she starts chowing down, I ask "I don't suppose you've read *I am Legend*?"
"Nope," she answers, "just seen the movie."
Fair enough. That's not normally a good answer, but Charlton Heston always merits an exception. "Then you've probably never heard of allyl sulphide or allyl isothicyanate?"
"No, what are those?"
"Those are the sulfur compounds that make garlic and onions so toxic to vampires."
She stops chewing and looks at the half-eaten onion ring in her hand, then looks me as dead in the eye as if she was already a vampire and I was still a human. "You asshole."
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jl65qns
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jl57qum
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[WP] The protagonist picks up a cursed sword, which simply convinces them to pick up an expensive and time-consuming hobby. This hobby drains their time, energy, and wealth more efficiently than any cursed item.
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The demon sighed. He was being recalled. He'd done his job, and now it was time to move on. He looked around his office; trophies from his conquests were everywhere. He looked down at the papers on his desk; millions of afflicted, hundreds of millions of hours consumed in idleness. His achievements were being bandied about as the most bloodless, invisible scourge on mankind in years.
He stood. "Well, guess I should get going," he said, brushing the imaginary lint off of his Armani suit. He reached over, picked up his name plate from his mahogany desk, and smiled at the words on it.
"Blizzard SVP, Chief Marketing Officer, free starter subscription game card division"
He glanced at the box in the corner, filled with hundreds of one-time-use subscriptions to various Blizzard products. All glowed with a sullen red hunger, waiting for their next users. Once, they would have been cursed swords or other artifacts. But now, they were simply banal pieces of plastic.
He loved this world.
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Master Bob been up in the store. He picked up the sword an he been like this is nice. Then all suddenly the sword been like you be needing a wife.
Master Bob been like I ain’t no swords could be talking an things like that but the sword made sass talk an said yes I can be speaking.
Then master Bob been like I is the best. Athen he been like I is the king of sleazy stuff an things like that. So Bob done fount hisself a wife.
Then he buyed her some titties an some shoes an some dresses an a mercedes bent an he be spending his money up. An he got her hair an her nails did too. Then they made a baby.
The End.
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lqew75h
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lqes231
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[WP] After the villain defeated you, your friends abandoned you, leaving you for dead. To your surprise you awoke in a bed, with your wounds tended to and the villain sitting at your bedside.
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"And here I thought I was the bad girl. Even I don't leave my people behind" she said with a smirk.
I groan. As if the pain wasn't bad enough, now I'm stuck with her arrogance. Excuse me, "her excellence" is what she prefers.
"They reported you dead, you know. Going to be hard to come back from that."
I didn't have the mental power to think about that. Everything hurt, even my toes. "Fuck you" I coughed.
She gently caressed down my jawline with her fingernails, "Oh dear I hardly think you're in the condition for that".
Her touch was kind. I don't know why it caught me off guard. I have no idea what she could be wanting, or why she let me live, but I couldn't do anything about anything yet.
She stood to leave, then looked at me with genuine kindness in her eyes, "you know, everyone has a villain in their own story, and just because you think your villain is bad, doesn't make them bad. And just because you think you're the good guy, that doesn't make you the good guy". She walked out the door, telling her servant something as she left.
She was right. But why say it? This whole adventure I had felt like there was something I was missing, but what? Too weak to think about it now. I needed to sleep more.
I awake with a start, the morning sun on my face, warming it. For being such a villain, she did have amazing taste. And this bed is the most comfortable thing I've ever slept in. My body still aches, my head still throbs, but I feel significantly better.
I open my eyes and she's there again; not three feet away, sun gleaming through her silky brown hair, eyes closed, chest gently rising and falling with each breath. Her full lips pressed together. Why are these thoughts in my head. It has to be the fog from all the exhaustion and pain.
She wakes with a start, looking to me. "I see you're awake now. You should be feeling better after sleeping for two full nights".
Two nights?? Gods I didn't realize--
"Your friends that left you have started quite the ruckus since leaving here", she said flatly.
"What do you mean"? Well at least I could speak now.
"Your oh-so-magnificent sword is actually a key, and they've found the lock. Seems they knew all along. I had hoped otherwise". A look of concern crossing her face as she called her servant in.
"Have a look at what they're up to" she says as she helps me look into the large bowl in the servants hands.
Fire. Screaming. Corpses. Large black writhing tentacles masses in the sky. "What the hell is all this" I stammer. This was beyond comprehension. This can't be real.
"They've unleashed an Eldritch god, which is what I was trying to stop. I'm not the villain of this story, you and your friends were, but you were oblivious to their machinations". Now it all makes sense. The whispering, the secretive meetings, the shared skin markings. I've been betrayed, and I could feel the anger growing inside me.
"Use that anger. Let me help you, I can make you more than you were. Pledge yourself to me, and we can take this world back and make them pay." She looked at me softly, offering her hand to me. I took it, and a warm flushing feeling came over my body.
I was back on my feet, only a little pain. It's been five days since the Eldritch gods have appeared. Once took Her hand, my healing went quickly, and I was fitted with new armor, and a new weapon that drew on my desire for revenge. It was like nothing I had heard of. It was light, but dense, and had the power to sever any gods connection to their powers, or their disciples from them.
I looked over at my new queen as we left her lair; the flaming skies and blood soaked lands ahead of us, towers darkening the landscape. Those were the targets. Those were the rewards for the traitors and now high priests. They will reap what they have sown, and we will make sure of that.
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It took only a moment, a piercing of the heart. My vision blurred, my brain, my body, I didn't feel a thing when it all went black. All I could see, was the world I came from, everyone I was fighting to return to. They'd never know I died here...or that I tried to get back.
The next thing I knew I awakened in a bed, alive, and in an intense pain. With all the strength I could muster I started to rise, when a hand pushed me back down. My vision followed it up to see the man who pierced my heart.
"Huh? Wha? You..."
"Hush. You are too wounded to even consider getting out of bed let alone challenging me again. Besides, you are outnumbered." The dark mage removed his hand and produced a dark orb with the other. As it illuminated, I could see my comrades...fleeing. Ran Away.
"Th-That can't be. They swore they-"
"And now you see what their word got you. They ran away, again."
"But we had the fabled sword that could slay the evilest spirit in the land! We had toughened up! W-wait again?" I was confused, but as I looked back at the dark mage, I couldn't help but recognize something about them. "Y-You're not from this world!"
The mage smiled, taking a seat next to me. "Exactly. I am from Earth too. But I came before you...and just like you, I had a team of heroic backup to help me fight the greatest evil in the land. And just like before, they ran when the time for heroics came."
I stared at the orb, unsure of what to make of the man's words. Truth or not, I was still fixated on them.
"He died! We had to get out of there!" an elven mage exclaimed to a brutish lizard man.
"But we had the sword! We could have grabbed it before we left!" the lizard yelled back at the elf.
"If we wasted any time fooling around, we'd be dead by now, the sword is a lost cause. We'll have to figure out another artifact to track down...and hope some dumbass from another world gets the glory of grabbing it." A cat man in dark leathers would exclaim to both as he sat on a rock.
I couldn't believe it, my party was just artifact hunters? They wanted me to perish? Other heroes? The man spoke up again "I can see the questions on your face. But let me explain, we are not the first to come to this world. To vanquish the greatest evil in this land. However so far, none have succeeded."
"...so, what is the greatest evil in this land? Is it not you?" I laid back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My whole world, my quest, everything...shattered in an instant.
"It is not me, but you are not ready to face it yet either. Especially with those three still kicking around. Rest up 'hero' and you'll find your real destiny soon. The same I was bestowed with ages ago."
".... what is it? You know it don't you?"
"Yes, but given you're here now, only you can defeat it. I need you to follow with me and kill the goddess that keeps dragging fools here to vanquish evils that threaten her. The very evils she keeps pulling us from other worlds to deal with. She won't stop until she claims total dominion over this world. And we won't get a chance to go back so long as she draws breath. You do want to go back don't you?"
I kept staring at the ceiling, his words must be evil, they must be him trying to twist me. But...I couldn't help but sympathize with the man. How long was he in here? How long would I be here? And if he's right...we need to kill this goddess before another person gets taken by her.
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j4jfykg
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j4jdc7v
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[WP] Everyone knows a supernatural high schooler needs a silly normal sidekick to go on adventures with them. But as the only “normal” kid in a school full of superheroes, wizards, vampires, etc. you’ve finally had enough being everyone’s comic relief.
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When you think of Superman, you think about how strong he is. When you think of The Flash, you think about how fast he is. But in most superhero fights, they take hits, and naturally they get back up again and take another hit... Usually by something faster or stronger than them... But those are comics and shows, far from how things do work. Sure this is a magical school but even if you're going to be shooting fire out your ass and summon frogs in biology... Science still adheres. It sticks to you like a rash and it never goes away and just because some kids are more attuned to molecular manipulation than others. The scientific truth of superpowers is this:
....superpowers make you vulnerable...
And human nature is a catalyst for disaster.
My point was made clear via observation of Adrien Barker. The "Lightning Lord" as it were. An electro-gician studying the magic of lightning. Making the particles in the air jump into a surge of energy with a wave of his hand and a few lines of Old Latin. All Wizards of his caliber should easily be able to practice such techniques with no consequences... That was a lie, I've learned. Funny how Adrien was always careful with his water, drinking slowly and putting it down like it was made of dainty faerie glass. All those open pool parties and he's there fully clothed and not so much as a pinky in the water... I became intrigued a little into so I did a few... Tests... I became like a master of drunken fists, accidentally spilling water, he dodges, stealthily toss a magnet, it sticks.
Adrien you were a terrible liar, and twice as gullible.
Simple text asking if he needed some exam help since, y'know, we got along well enough. Thankfully the school allows you to study theory instead of practice for those not so... Magically Inclined ✨. He agreed, somehow catching on I was smart(who could've given him that idea, I wonder I wonder?). Afterwards...well.
Lights: Off
Floor: Flooded
Car battery: On
Adrien... Flesh smoking, screaming begging me to stop. Crying only for the tears despite their salt shocking him.
Crackle: Pop... Gone.
From what I understand his momma still doesn't know. A bright young future snuffed out because of one simple... exploitable weakness. Isn't it strange? Awesome power, making men above men, but that power being their one weakness? Almost like it's a punishment.
Perhaps power that enforces can also exploit.
The rest were simple after that: Sasha Gilmore, "Femme le Flame", industrial fan from the janitor's closet, scare her a little by just standing in a hallway alone, at night, with a mask, and the flames blew back on her face... Not sure to chalk that up to power exploit or human stupidity.
Steve Gray, "The Living Girder", likes to go dumpster diving in the junkyard... Albeit that was too convenient operating the magnet and melting him down for parts.
Now this next one! I thought was going to be challenge, but the solution is looking right at you! Austin Donnell, "Impenetrable", name says it all. I at first wasn't going to even try and challenge him but... Then came one day in Endurance class... He sits close to me so he can cheat off my scores, it's whatever. Already proving the frailty of man when given power academic misconduct can bite it.... Then at one point he sneezes. His nose is bright red.
"Bless you!" I whimpered out, trying to keep the facade that we were friends.
"Uh, yeah thanks Gordy... Think I got cold or something, man it sucks!"
Bingo... Impenetrable to bullets, cars, trains and a plane one time... But Bacteria always finds a way... In Austin's case it lead to him inhaling some chloroform after his Hero/Wizard/Vampiric sportsball practice.
His skin unbreakable... But from what I see... He had 4 orifices that any spear, sword, knife, or hot piece of iron can go into... 6 if you want to count the eyes...
My point was made so... Why, your Honor? Why did I do this? To my friends? To my peers? True, I never felt belittled by them one bit. But for understand, their sacrifices are noble ones. It goes to show the richest and what I think the most beautiful part about being a human being:
At the end of it all, it's still you. We are of a flawed and horrid design, and slapping these powers or gifts or magic doesn't make us any stronger. We're still under the veil of weakness that keeps us from being our most perfect selves. The Human Body, the Flesh, is weak! And we as human beings must be reminded day by day!
(First time commenting, please be kind!)
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Any other town in the country I would be considered the normal person, not the freak. But not here, not in my town, not in my school. I am the only fully human being within 3 hours of my house. The idea that everybody needs to have a human sidekick is exhausting. It’s not even like anyone says it out loud, I just get calls from everyone at school at the worst possible times to go on adventures. For the first few years after we moved here, it was fun. I liked being popular in the sense that I had lots of “friends”. But the shine has officially worn off. In sixth grade I nearly died when Kara decided that it would be fun to go burn graffiti on old man Thompsons’s house. In eighth grade I lost an ear haunting with the ghosts of the town. Don’t ask me how that one came about; it still confuses me. By the time I was as senior in high school I had broken all my ribs at least once, my nose 4 times, lost an ear a couple of times and yet I still have two on my head, also baffled by that one. My skull had been crushed at least twice, and both of my legs shattered on numerous occasions. In all honesty if my mom hadn’t made friends with the wizards in town, I’d have died years ago; but here I am.
I’ve been dealing with being everyone’s sidekick for too long now. But that’s going to change. I’m a senior in high school now and I know all their weaknesses. One of the perks to going along with the whole sidekick thing. They pretty much let their guard down around you. After graduation there would be no more bullying me for saying no. No more looking over my shoulder for somebody trying to ambush me into an adventure. Never again would the vampires ask me to go spooking with them. The demons wouldn’t ask me to haunt with them ever again. I would be free.
Today I started the second semester of senior year, and I heard the dreadful sound of the Athletes coming up to me to ask me to go with them on some shenanigan, but before they got to me, I turned around and sighed, “Don’t even bother asking, the answer is no.” They roared laughing, but I continued to stare blankly at them until the leader of the jocks caught on that I was serious.
“did you just say, ‘no’?” he asked as he stood up straighter and stepped in closer trying to intimidate me. “I think Typ here has forgotten that he is the sidekick, which really means, Nobody.” He growled the last word in my ear, trying to get into my head.
I just stepped back a little bit and looked at the group, shrugged my shoulders, and quipped, “well if that’s the case then it is true, that nobody knows all your weak spots. I told you the answer is ‘no’ and if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll hit you where it hurts.”
They just stared at me as I walked away, and the whispers could be heard all through the school. The day was almost done when I got called down to the principal’s office, and he called me to talk about what happened with the jocks. “So, Typ,” he started. Even the teachers called me that, I’m pretty sure they’ve all forgotten that it’s not my name. I swallowed the frustration as he continued, “Kyle says that you threatened him earlier today. Do you want to tell me about that?”
I took a deep breath before I answered, “Sir, I didn’t threaten him. I simply told him I wasn’t going to be their sidekick for the remainder of this year. I have been the sidekick for every student that attends this school and even a few that don’t, for as long as I can remember, it has nearly gotten me killed more times than I can count, and I’m just not going to do it anymore, and you can’t make me.”
With that I simply stood up and walked out of there. As I tried to make it to my car, all the kids from school jumped me, and tried to beat the living crap out of me. I came prepared though, so they only landed a few blows. Sadly enough, I lost my ear yet again, not surprised. But in the end, all the kids were laying on the asphalt groaning. I think a couple were dead, I didn’t hang around to find out because whether I wanted it that way or not, I had just become this towns first ever villain, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t mad about it.
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lhtj53o
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lhs831w
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[WP] Level 100 in the East is about the same a level 20 in the West… which is a shame for the level 52 sorceress who just severely underestimated you…
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She had gotten cocky from the “level difference”, I suppose, and rushed in to cut me up with the flame spear she had just transmuted her staff into. Pretty impressive! I’d put her at a level 10 where I come from. My armor was faaar too enchanted for this to last longer than a round, though…
…and she was starting to come to. “Sorry for the shield to the face!” I braced her, “but I’m pretty sure I put your teeth back in the same places before I healed you.” I try a reassuring smile and nod as I draw her attention to my trusty shield, which I’ll have to clean later.
“You’re not even level 20… how…?!” By her tone, she hasn’t figured it out, I guess. Then, sorcerer’s don’t exactly *have* to be smart. Just incredibly powerful. Smarts are a wizards job!
“Im guilded with the Wizards of the West, silly! We don’t track every little feature with a level like you East-Coast Elves—we humans and such don’t live long enough to check all those boxes! When you’re stronger and can do something new is good enough for us!
Anyways, pretty rude of you to come out firing, huh? As a Paladin of Western Redemption, it’s my duty and desire to enlighten you on the more humane ways of parlaying in the wilds—ooh, here’s some spare parchment so you can read along—it begins with Clevius Delta…”
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“Seriously? Is that it?” I said unimpressed.
The Sorceress is looking at me in shock. She’s cute I suppose. Heart shaped face, pretty red eyes, wolf ears skimpy robes. But she started gloating about being level 52 and mastering level 5 spells. I just kept on my way and she just cast everything her entire repertoire on me. A shame that I had subtle cast globe of invulnerability just before she did her thing. I had cast only one spell. Honestly i wanted to ask something to her but..
“How?!” She’s screeched. “You’re only level 30!!! How do you know a 6th level spell!!!”
“I’m from the West. We do levels differently there. Level 20 back home is the equivalent of level 100 here.” I explained. I saw her paling face, widening eyes are shining with tears unshed.
“I… I… I’m sorry PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!” She sobbed falling to all fours trembling like a leaf.
Honestly…. What am I to do now?
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jxs8rtj
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jxrvmlx
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[WP] Magic is only usable by the elite. Anyone caught doing magic without the multi-thousand gold permit is subject to prison, or worse. An orphan on the streets has to hide that she has the power to use fire from everyone in town. That is, until the princess catches her.
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I looked up and down the street, wondering if anyone had seen me sneeze. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but every now and then my magic would sneak out. This time, it had come as a little puff of smoke. If it weren’t for the fact that it could get me arrested, I would have laughed at how I resembled a dragon.
Being able to wield fire was convenient on a winter’s night. I could play struggling to light a fire with some old sticks, only for it to spring to life after I “struggled” with it. But on a hot summer’s day the so-called gift was a liability. It was asking for me to get caught, brought before the magistrates, and charged with illegal use of magic. Not that I could help what I was. I wasn’t a wealthy wizard surrounded by piles of books, permitted to use magic by proving their scholarly aptitude and purchasing a permit. I was an orphaned sorcerer whose parents doubtless came from another kingdom where magic was less restricted. I didn’t know if something had happened to them, or if they had abandoned me over my magic, and, honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
Not long after the sneeze, I ducked into a tavern with a help wanted sign, hoping I could pick up a few coins and some of their leftover food. The tavern’s owners quickly put me to work in the kitchen, and I was grateful to be hidden away from the scene of my hopefully unnoticed crime. I could still feel the magic coursing through me, threatening a more potent release later, but I continued to push it down.
When patrons started arriving from dinner, I was pulled out of the kitchens and into the main dining hall of the tavern, where I was put to work clearing the tables and refilling drinks. The tavern was full, and there were more than a few guests with coin to spare that I worked extra hard to refill the drinks of, hoping for just a small portion of their coin to end up in my meager purse.
My plan was going well until my magic acted up. Spectacularly.
I was pouring water into a lady’s glass when another sneeze came up. A little puff of smoke came out of my nose again, and I tried my best to ignore it in the hopes that she and her companions would ignore it too. It was late and the tavern was full, so of course the candles were burning brightly.
But the expulsion of my magic didn’t stop with the little puff of smoke. I managed to set the pitcher down and turn around before a second, more violent sneeze erupted, and with it a jet of flame.
It was a miracle that I didn’t sneeze onto another patron and light them on fire.
“That was *not* normal,” the lady said.
“Apologies,” I said, pretending that the fire hadn’t happened. “Allergies.”
“Well, I was referring to the fire,” the lady said.
I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever actually called me out on my magic before, and so I was frozen in place.
She got out of her seat and whispered in my ear. “Meet me around the back after your shift. I have a proposition.”
I carefully worked the rest of the evening, grateful that nobody outside of the lady’s table had noticed my little outburst of magic. I even earned enough coin that I would have slightly better meals for the next few days
When I was finally done working and had had my fill of the leftovers that couldn’t be saved for breakfast, I made my way around the back of the tavern. The lady was flanked by her companions from dinner, and I wondered if I had made a mistake.
“My name is Princess Drina of the Riverlands,” she said. “I’m sure you’re aware of our country’s restrictions on magic.”
I immediately fell to my knees, and opened my mouth to beg for mercy. “I can’t con-”
Princess Drina cut me off. “However, I have recently learned that there are certain individuals who have an innate ability for magic, separate from any studies that can be undertaken or oaths made to deities.”
I stared at her, dumbstruck. She had heard of sorcerers? Most people thought we were a myth, or a scary story. Magic took the wizards and clerics years to learn. Even I sometimes wondered if I was a fluke, because I had never met another person like me.
“It is my intention to change our country’s policies to be more compassionate, but I need to know more about a sorcerer’s magic arises,” she said. “If you were willing, I would take you on as one of my maids, and conduct studies.”
“Your highness, that would be a life-changing opportunity,” I said. I wasn’t sure how else to respond to her offer.
“Then come with me,” she said, extending a hand to help me up from the round. “Daimian, run ahead of us and make sure there’s a suitable place for-” she looked at me, clearly asking my name.
“Nella,” I said.
“-a suitable place for Nella to stay,” Princess Drina finished.
One of the guards bowed and immediately set off running. Then the princess turned her attention back to me. “Apologies for the abrupt offer. I hope I’m not disrupting other plans you had.”
I laughed. “No apologies needed, your highness. My plans for tonight were to find a bench or patch of grass to sleep in.”
*****
**Thanks for reading!** If you enjoyed this, I have more writing posted at my subreddit, /r/TheLastComment
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The streets of the lower city stink of filth and death. Rows of huts, layered atop one another, mimic the appearance of one large building, only seperated by the ramshackle ladders and paths down to the main road below.
The ones on the bottom have it the worst. Steadily crushed by those above, they slowly become one with the road itself, buckling under the incredble weight of the hundreds of rows of identical homes above them.
None of that compares to living on the streets themselves.
Edith searches fruitlessly for scraps of food among the unending sea of waste and refuse between the columns. Her hands are coated in grime. Her brown and black clothes are more like tattered rags. Her hood still works, so she has it draped over her head - a small comfort. She stands up from searching, her knees and back ache from hunching over the hard stone road. The sun lowers out of view, almost immediately shrouding her in darkness, the sets of homes around her form walls. She snaps her fingers, and a meager flame bursts out into the air between them. It shifts, and rests within her palm, offering a soft orange light. A rat scurries out from a stray shadow, and she reaches out, flinging the small flame into its overgrown body. It cooks from within. She retrieves a small knife from a hidden holster on her thigh, and skins the rat before eating it. It tastes sick and bitter. She finishes the rat, and sleep takes her without her notice.
When she wakes, Edith is greeted by the sun. Once more, its rays pierce her eyes through the small bit of sky she's allowed on the slum-streets. She welcomes it. Her hood fell while she slept, and her short auburn hair glows in the morning sunlight. She stands, and almost immediately finds herself laying down again, with a new pain in her chest. A man stands above her, fist still clenched, a knight of the city. The insignia on his shoulder matches the one on the hilt of his sword, and designates him as a member of the mageguard. He looks at her with a particular disdain and disgust. To his left and slightly behind him, a woman of medium build stands proudly. She wears expensive jewels on her ears and fine metalwork around her neck.
This is the princess of Karth. Captor of unauthorized and underclassed mages. Edith already knows why she's here. The princess begins to speak. Edith expects herself to be addressed, but the princess ignores her in favor of her mageguard escort.
"This is the one. Take her with us."
Without hesiation, the knight grabs Edith by the arm and drags her with him. He is no giant of a man, but he's still more than strong enough to overpower her. They take her through to the other end of the lower city, lowering the magical wards as they do so, allowing them to gain entry into the middle city. The wards close behind them, and Edith knows she'll never go back. They continue on, and the well-seperated homes of the middle city part to make way for the entrance to the high stratum, where all royal citizens and affairs have their place. There is no ward seperating the two. Never in her life has Edith seen such a display of wealth. Never has she felt so sick and so reviled by the people and places around her. Soon enough, they arrive at a prison. The gates stand before them, casting a shadow that stretches for a hundred feet across this side of the high stratum.
Edith feels her stomach churn. Fear wells within her. She can feel a special type of agony leaking through the stone and metalwork before her. Thousands of souls crying out, begging to be shown a mercy that will not come. Their despair has seeped into the space around the prison, corrupting its fabric. Edith can hear nothing but the infinite loathing of a million damned souls. Feel nothing but their suffering, compounded and compressed into a singluarity of torment.
The fire magic within her senses the fuel. It craves, demands to be fed, gnaws at her. She can't take it. The knight tries to push her toward the gate. She pushes back, looks at him for the briefest of moments. His flesh and blood conflagarates as his bones become ashen dust. It takes only moments for a man to be reduced to nothing, and his empty chainmail left a melted husk on the road. The princess looks on in horror, tries to run, and finds herself rooted to the spot in terror. She, too, becomes nothing as she meets Edith's hungry gaze.
Edith wants to stop. She wants to turn off the magic, to close her eyes and sleep. But the magic wants to burn. Flames erupt from all around her, turning the golden arches of the capital to a thick slurry, the wooden homes of the middle city into ash. And when it has nothing left to burn, no pain left to fuel it, the fire turns on her.
​
She burns, and the city burns with her.
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j7t13l3
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j7sdqo5
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[WP]The young teen hero has called you, one of the oldest villains crying, apparently from what you could hear, their parents killed their dog from not doing a chore and kicked them out since they are gay, and then they ask if they could live with you
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In a dark corner of a large room sits a small end table of what appears to be black wood.
On that end table sits an old red rotary-style telephone.
It starts to ring.
On the other side of the large catacomb decorated room a 30 something looking man raises his head and looks at the phone curiously. By the middle of the second ring he is by the phone picking it up and putting it to his ear with a puzzled look on his face.
" 'Allo?"
A short silence, followed by a sobbing rambling monologue that the man can only catch a few words of, "parents.... chore..... killed.... throwing...... gay...."
He raises his left eyebrow in puzzled recognition of that voice. 'Let's see, it's a young female. Don't know too many of those. Hmm, doesn't sound like Crimson Slaughter's daughter, or Death Trap's niece.'
"Mr. Void, are you there?" The voice asks tremulously.
"I'm here Starburst." That's right that annoying new Heroine. "Can you please repeat that, slower this time?"
"Um, my parents told me to clean my room yesterday afternoon, right before I left to patrol the city." She paused for a moment gathering her strength for the next few sentences. "After I got back from patrol, I found a note on my door, saying that what awaits in my room is the consequences for not doing my chore. I walked in and saw they had killed..." her voice stopped for a few seconds, "rascal, my dog. I, i think i fell to my knees. I don't know how long I sat there staring, but, when I looked up to where all my pictures used to hang, I noticed everything was gone, all my stuff. There was another note pinned to the wall, 'there will be no homosexuals in this house, your stuff is in the dumpster where you belong.' I tried to dial the other Heros, but they all said that they can't be seen helping someone like me. I remembered you had mentioned your phone line was the first in the area last week during our fight near that cemetery and I just tried the lowest phone number, and you answered. I don't know who else to turn to..." she said not quite as quickly as before.
He sighed, 'Over 3000 years of cultural, societal, and human evolution and this still happens.' "You remember the symbol on my cloak?"
"Yes... I think so?" She answered cautiously.
"I need you to draw that symbol on the back wall of your closet, in both your blood and your dog's blood, and then knock on the symbol 4 times."
She gasped as she realised she would have cut her beloved pet to get to the blood.
"And bring your dog too." He said right before he hung up.
He gave minimal thought as to how Starburst would react to the portal that minor ritual would open, or the fact that it would lead her straight to the workshop he was standing in, or the experiments and... remains of his... 'willing' volunteers strewn about said workshop. He concentrated, drew some blood from a finger, and wrote a small, complicated, set of symbols, that he had used far too often for his liking. The symbols glowed an eldritch dark blood red before a Door appeard in the wall near the phone. He slowly walked over to it and opened the door. Inside was a bedroom that wouldn't be out of place in any upscale American home. It was minimally decorated in neutral but warm calming colours. The Queen sized bed had a set of small stairs on one side, perfect for pets that couldn't jump up onto the bed.
As he was inspecting the room to make sure all the furniture had formed properly there was a loud gasp and a small hiccup/sob from his workshop.
"In here Starburst." He called not even bothering to turn around.
After a few minutes he heard small shuffling noises behind him. He turned around and saw that Starburst was cowering near the doorframe, holding her dead dog closely in her arms.
"Come in and sit on the bed." Void said in a calming tone.
Starburst looked fearfully at him, then his workshop and then back at him. "...."
He sighed, 'I guess I forgot to clean things up a bit out there.' He slowly raised his left hand, "I swear upon my existence that I will not intentionally harm you while you are under my protection except in self defense." His body flashed an eldritch blood red.
Starburst slowly entered the bedroom and gingerly sat in the bed. "What happens now?" She asked, obviously frightened of the things she saw in the workshop.
"Now, I retire for a bit, again. And before you ask why, the reason is, I'm going to be raising you until you are healed from this well enough to live your own life."
"Why?" She asked, worried and a bit confused.
"Those things that gave birth to you and killed, at least temporarily if you let me, your dog, are not going to be enjoying, well, the afterlife. I have a low tolerance for certain things. Like what has happened to you for example." He said gently.
Starburst started to nod in understanding before realising what he said about her dog, "Wait, what do you mean, temporarily if I let you?"
Void nodded, "You have seen some of my powers when we fought near the cemetery. I can bring your dog back to life, well, as a zombie dog, for the rest of either your life or what would have been the rest of its life."
Starburst gaped and sat stock still.
"I'll give you till tomorrow to think about it. Try to get some sleep." He turned around and walked out, gently closing the door.
THE END, maybe.
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You caress the photo lovingly as a tear threatens to drip from the corner of your eye. Power is useless if everything you love is taken. The phone rings, breaking you from your thoughts. As it rings again you blink and cock your head. Intrigue sets in, and you set down the photograph.
Very few are privy to this number, and of them only a select few would dare call it. Being one of the oldest villains, it doesn’t come as a surprise that everyone fears you. The younger generation even have named you Chronos when you harnessed the sands of time. Reaching over, you pick up the phone from its cradle.
“Yes?” You answer, curiosity growing.
“Is this Chronos?” A wavery feminine voice comes over the line. Odd you don’t recognize her voice, but you decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. Anyone who gets this number has the right to be heard. You run your hands over an ornate hourglass on the table, loving the way the Victorian grooves feel in between your fingers. You pick it up and then redirect your attention to the call.
“You have two minutes to capture my attention before I hang up.” You pause for a moment, before gracefully turning the hourglass over, watching the stark white sand spill through the bottleneck.
This was not the voice of one of the other villains. There was something familiar about this voice, but you can’t quite place it.
“Please don’t hang up, you have to help me.” A sob escapes over the phone.
“I am a villain; I am not in the business of helping people.”
“You somehow got the wrong number, find a hero if you need help.”
“I am a hero though!” You feel your left eyebrow slowly raise, as if caught with a fishhook.
“Oh, a hero calls me. What even makes you think I will help a hero, I am a villain after all.”
“…Selene told me to…” You sit forward, resting on your elbow, you wave your fingers and the sand in the hourglass slows to a halt as another sob escapes the phone. Your eyes focus on the photo.
“How do you know that name.” Anxiety funnels into your being and the grains of sand begin to dance erratically inside the hourglass. The sobs get louder, and your patience grows thin.
“You don’t seem to understand, I kill heroes. Tell me how you know that name or so help me…” rage boils inside you as you trail off.
“She loved me…” and just like that, the fire in your soul was doused by a freezing revelation. You know this voice, and of course, how could you ever forget? This was her voice.
“What do you need?” A gruff answer, barely conveying the muted cacophony of emotions echoing inside your soul.
“I don’t know! My family…they killed my dog, the one Selene got for me.” You feel the phone crack under your tightening fist.
“Why?” You barely contain yourself as you bite through your lip. You are retired, you don’t kill the innocent. She made you promise not to.
“I didn’t finish my chores.” Crash The hourglass shatters as you grind your teeth together.
“…when they found out I was gay… they kicked me out” She sobs again, and you hear her voice grow hoarse from the effort. Your lip curls up in disgust.
“Please, can I stay with you? I don’t have anywhere else to go!” She moans through the phone. You eye the picture and see Selene’s smile staring back at you.
*“I can’t wait to have her meet you one day!”* You close your eyes, as a tear falls. Selene’s final words, tug at your heart cord as they ring in your ears. With a heavy sigh you collect yourself, raising your hand as the hourglass reforms.
“Do you know of the Crawford Estate down on fourth?”
“Yes, but no one is allowed on the grounds.”
“Be there in two hours, someone will be here to let you in.”
“But what are you---” You hang up, reaching over and picking up the picture.
“Selene … I loved you. You wanted me to be a better man, to stop killing. For years I stayed in the background.” You stroke the photograph affectionately. A soft smile works it’s way onto your face, but it quickly falls into a grimace. You clench and unclench your fist and shake your head.
“Time has been harsh, and now to preserve the love that you had for her…I will make your love’s life better. I will provide for her the way you would have.” You set the image down in the center of the table, kissing your fingers before you press them over her smiling face. You stand up straight, tightening your fist as you do.
“But first I must make sure that they pay for what they have done.” The glass shatters as you turn on your heel and march to the door. Stopping, you place one hand on the door jamb, turning back and locking eyes with the picture again.
“I failed you, but I will not fail her, even if I have to break that promise to you.” You leave with a scowl, cutting across your face, but inside you feel your power bubble with excitement and a viscous smile breaks across your face. “I am going to thoroughly enjoy this.”
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m3hia1h
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m3gpq0q
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[WP] You placed your fingertips on the very edge of your queen's blade held a single inch away from your throat. Staring her straight in her murderous eyes begging for a reason not to kill you there and then. " Because your grace I'm the only one who respects you enough to tell you NO."
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You felt the cold steel on your throat. You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Her fiery eyes fixed on yours, full of rage. Her hand shook on the hilt. You pressed your fingers against the blade’s edge, barely pushing.
“Speak,” she snapped. “One reason. Give me one reason not to kill you.”
You breathed in, slow and steady. The blade pressed closer. “Because,” you said, meeting her gaze, “I am the only one who respects you enough to say no.”
Her lips curled. Her anger twisted her face. “No?” she repeated. “You dare—”
“I dare,” you said, cutting her off. “I dare because no one else will. Your court fears you. Your army obeys you. They won’t tell you when you’re wrong. But I will.”
Her grip trembled. Her eyes wavered. For a moment, she seemed unsure. Her breath hitched, her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
“Does that make me loyal?” you asked. “Yes. Because I care. I care more about you than the crown.”
The silence thickened. Her hand shook harder. The queen—the conqueror, the warrior—hesitated.
“You tread on thin ice,” she whispered. Her voice lost its edge. “This doesn’t make you safe.”
“I know,” you said. You lowered your hands. “But someone must save you from yourself.”
She exhaled sharply. Her blade dropped an inch. Then she stepped back. Her shoulders stiffened, but her eyes softened. She turned and strode toward her throne.
“Leave,” she ordered, her voice filling the room.
The courtiers fled. You stood still, unsure. She sat, gripping the armrests. She didn’t look at you.
“Stay,” she said suddenly.
You froze. Slowly, you turned. Her gaze was distant, her fingers tense.
“If you were me,” she asked quietly, “what would you do?”
Her tone softened. It was not an order. It was not a threat. It was a question. A plea.
You stepped forward, feeling the blade’s memory still on your neck.
“I would listen,” you said.
(Want more stories? Follow me on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/theunseenoficial?mibextid=ZbWKwL))
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"You call that respect? Slaying my husband in his sleep. You lack both: respect and honor." Her gaze sterened, the blade pushing closer.
"Your highness. He was a fraud." I firmed my voice. I knew it would come this, but I still chose to do so. "Mingling with the other ladies in your absence doesn't sound like respect."
"Liar!" Her growl echoed throughout the castle dome. The guards shook in their helms. "Don't speak down of him, you traitor. Tell me which kingdom sent you here."
"I killed him on my own accordance." I stated. I could see it her eyes now, the doubt creeping in.
"Then why did you refuse to speak about it until now?"
"Because I knew you wouldn't believe me. The fact that you have sword up against my throat is proof of that."
Blood seeped down my neck as the blade pushed closer, I had to double down.
"The only reason I went to such lenghts was for you. Highness. I only did everything for you -" I choked, the cold blade piercing my voice.
She pulled out the sword and lifted its hilt. The next moment, my head hit the floor, blood staining the marble tiles below.
"Your Highness..." One of the guards regarded. "We needed to interview him to see who sent him -"
"Silence." She ordered, her mind going mad. After a while of pondering, she finally stated, "The women."
"What?"
"Collect all of the women in this house - No, this kingdom, and bring them to me."
The guards tried to calm her, but she was far too gone.
With the king dead and the queen mentally distracted, the kingdom wouldn't last long.
My death wouldn't be in vain.
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jp5thd2
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jp4yify
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[WP] The group of new humans who just joined your ship begin to act weird about the humans already present...they keep mentioning something call the uncanny valley? Maybe this is a place on Sol?
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Max was uncomfortable with the new arrivals. He voiced his concern to his friends.
"Hey, I don't wanna, like... discriminate or anything, but do you think-"
"I know." His friend, Jakie cuts in. Together, they take in the sight. A few dozen survivors board their ship. Just like any other day. But the closer they came, the more deformities the boys noticed on them. Not that they hadn't seen deformed people get rescued from Sol before. But this.... was different.
These people weren't missing any limbs. They weren't burned, scarred, or injured in any way, at least, they didn't appear to be.
Max turns to Jakie.
"Maybe it's just the radiation? Zero Day really decimated the place... They could just be sick..."
"I don't think so. I... They kinda creep me out..." Jakie replied.
A man with his eyes a little too far apart. A boy with an asymmetrical head. A woman with one arm longer than the other.
"There's no way they are from Sol. They hardly look human." Jake continued.
At these words, one little girl looks at him. Jakie smiles.
The girl smiles back. As her mouth opens, he sees that she has no teeth. Or tongue. Or... anything.
Jakie shudders.
The last of them board the ship, and the "Sol Survivor" leaves the docking area, presumably to continue searching.
Max says, "We should leave. We are being rude."
Jakie agrees, and they walk back towards their quarters. They wish each other goodnight and go to bed. But while Max dozes off, all he can think about is what life will be like with these... new people.
---
The emergency light flashes. Max opens his eyes slowly. He rubs his eyes and looks at the time. 2:42? He looks up at the emergency light, spinning around just over his room door. What's going on?
Just then, the sirens go off all across the ship. Max goes into panic mode and dresses himself, trying to remember the protocol for an emergency. Buttoning his shirt as he gets to the door, he puts his hand on the pad to unlock it.
It opens.
A little girl is standing in front of him.
"What the.. hey, it's not safe!"
Max points to the emergency siren.
"Where's your mommy?"
The girl simply shakes her head.
"Fine, just come with me." Max reaches out his hand.
The girl smiles.
A big, big smile.
(My first time writing, I'm open to criticism!:) )
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The strange kid walks with stilted gait. His eyes flick about the room, jittering in odd patterns.
“Mommy, look.” Leah points.
Mommy smacks her hand.
“Don’t point, baby.” Mom says, then lowers her voice. “He’s probably handicapped, dear. Don’t be mean.”
The odd boy notices her pointing and approaches.
“Greetings.” He says, then sticks out his hand. “I’m Tom.”
He puts his arm out at breast level, as though her were shaking a woman’s tit rather than a hand.
Mommy is polite and takes his oddly leveled hand.
“Nice to meet you.” Mom says. “I’m Mrs. Johnson, and this is my daughter, Leah.”
His eyes flick between her lips, eyes, cheeks, forehead, teeth, and hair as she talks, as though he cannot decide what to land on.
His mouth sits barely open, and Leah can see him wildly flicking his tongue.
He extends his arm to Leah, putting it above her head.
“Nice to meet you, Leah.” He says.
Leah’s heart pounds. She suddenly wants to hide beneath her covers. She does not take his hand.
“Leah!” Mommy places Leah’s hand in Tom’s. “Manners! You say hi to this boy!”
“Hi.” Leah says, giving a dead fish handshake.
“Hi.” Tom says. “I’m Tom!”
For the first time, Tom looks at Leah and stops his jittering. His eyes still.
“Say, do I know you?” Tom asks, his eyes again moving rapidly. His mouth sits open. His tongue dances.
Leah swears she sees fangs and loses her own voice.
Mommy nudges Leah.
“Dear?” Mom says. “Have you seen him somewhere else on the ship? Maybe during children play time?”
“No.”
“No.” Tom echoes. “I know her from before.”
The horns sprout rapidly. Long talons extend from Tom’s stubby fingers. His eyes slit vertically, and his nostrils slit horizontally. His skull and head smooth, like a reptile’s.
His back hunches to nearly a half circle as he mounts the floor. His skin melts into scales.
His lizard tail flicks behind him. His forked tongue licks his fangs.
He pounces.
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j5e4vw4
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j5dlm0a
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[WP] You are a beekeeper. You have a special relationship with your bees. You are able to communicate with them and they’re intelligent enough to see you removing honey as “rent”. This year things are different. The new queens are politely requesting that you invest some money to improve the hives.
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*As you can see*, the bee in front of me buzzed in morse code, *the Queen believes that our professional relationship can now move to the next level.*
I took a sip of my honey-chamomille tea. "Do go on," I replied calmly.
*We have observed the transactions with the rent you remove from our hive.*
"The honey," I corrected.
*Yes. We have seen the amount of Green Paper you receive and believe a mutually beneficial agreement can be made. As you can see here...* the bee said as a swarm of new bees flew in and formed a chart, *building a larger larval area with additional entrances sun-ward would increase the hive's Rent production by 51% as soon as the following summer.*
"Interesting."
*Furthermore, removing the large human structure next to us and planting cherry trees in the area would further improve both our quality of life and the quality of the Rent.*
"I'm afraid that's my neighbour's house, ma'am. Can't raze that."
*Is a hostile takeover out of the question?*
"Completely."
The bee paused for a second. *Understandable*, it finally buzzed.
"Still - a new larval pod with more entrances? That is not an issue. I can get that done in... 3 weeks? Unless an emergency at work happens."
The bee jumped up and down excitedly.
*Very speedy! The Queen will be pleased.*
"Excellent!" I chuckled and clasped my hands. "Would you like this in writing?" I laughed.
The bee stood still.
*What's writing?*
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Keeper: oh sure! What needs improving?
Queen: well, we are running out of room for our larvae. The queen before me would have just cast them out of the hive, but I cannot bring myself to kill such precious things.
Keeper: wow, well I have been doing well enough for myself so... I guess I can help you guys out.
Queen: many thanks, forgive me if it was presumptuous to ask it of you. We will be sure to use this new room to create more honey also.
Keeper: no it’s fine! I love you guys, I want you to be comfortable.
The queen blushes at this statement.
In the following weeks you construct a great expansion to the hive, you even give them a jar of honey to aid in their expansion.
The queen flies up to you one day and lands in your hand.
Queen: noble keeper, I feel it is only right to give you a gift.
Keeper: that’s very kind of you! What is it?
Queen: a gift that I would be forbidden to give had I been a wild queen.
She flies up and kisses you on the forehead.
You feel yourself shrink and transform into a type of bee that you don’t recognize.
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jk5ljzu
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jk5h07t
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[WP] One genie specialises in a specific kind of ironic wishes. If the wish is for fitness and health, the genie is a drill sergeant from hell and whips them into shape. If they wish for money, the genie makes them go through years of economic schooling.
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"So you twist people's wishes?"
"I wouldn't say that, they always get what they wished for in the end. I am a good genie. "
"Then why do you do this? Like why do you make people go through that to fulfill their wishes?"
The genie looked at me as if trying to find an easy way to explain it.
"Because of two things, first: they need to understand the value of whatever they gained from it, let's look at an good example: one of my previous masters wished to be fit and healthy so I summoned an Ifrit who trains soldiers in hell to whip them into shape. If they didn't suffer from it they could just throw it all away with the same way they gained it.
"Oh, I see. So the lesson it's to value what you have and that good things never stay if you don't put some effort to keep them?"
"You seemed to understand it kid. But that's not the only reason for me to do this, there is also the deal of knowing how to use what you just got." He explained waving his finger over his head. "Let's return to our previous example, if I had just given him the body right away he wouldn't have any of the muscle memory from the, literal, hellish training he gone through and would have difficulty adjusting to his new strength and the end result wouldn't be the best he could ever become."
"I see that working for skills but I'm not convinced about material gains like riches
"For another example let's say my master wished for and I quote "a crapload of money", without the knowledge on HOW to manage the money you would just spend it and there is the end of that, a useless wish that made their life easier for a short while before they returned to being poor"
"Well, that makes sense. So in the end you are just teaching them with extra steps?"
"Actually no extra steps. I teach them, the only "extra" step is creating an environment that they are the most efficient at learning. Even a simple wish like someone who ain't passing a starvation period to have a fruit can come with a valuable lesson like giving them seeds and teaching them to be patient and attentive."
"What about impossible wishes? Like immortality or magical powers? Those can't just be taught, right?"
"Sometimes just mundane methods are not enough so I use the old fashioned way. No wish is impossible with me around."
"You know, I wish *I* had a teacher like that..."
"Your wish is my command, young master..."
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"Sir, a group of people are here to see you. And they are really messed up. I mean really really messed up."
-"Okay Nadia, Tell them to come in."
When the crowd enter the office the usually serious genie bursts into laughter:
"Omg, what happened to you people?"
"Are you the wrong wish reversal expert?"
A young man asked. There was a huge ball and chain hanging from his pants.
"Yes, I am Dr Makool. A genie with 500 years of experience in bad wishing practice. Tell me what happened!"
"We were fooled by one of your kind. We need our wishes reversed."
"No no no, didn't you learn anything? Never wish for the opposite. It does not gonna work well. What you want is a simple wish removal. "
"Okay. You are the expert."
"What did you wish for?"
The man is past being ashamed:
"I wished for a bigger junk. And this is what the bastard gave me. And eternal fucking ball and chain hanging from it."
Makool tried his best to remain serious. Only one genie would do such a thing.
"And the rest of you?"
A young boy came forward:
"I wished for knowledge and that piece of shit installed wikipedia inside my brain. Anything I here there is a link pooping up. I am fucking tired of reading. Please help me."
Makool:
"Well, reading does not hurt (the boy is giving him deadeyes) ...but too much of anything can be bad. What he did was not decent. And you madam?"
"I wished to be young again!"
"And he did?"
"No. That insolent thing told me he just can't do it. He gave me back my money and apologized!"
"Well my friends. Sadly I can't help you."
The crowd went mad.
"Why? Why can't you?"
"Because he did not grant your wishes. He just gave you the reality."
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kg9rvw3
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kg9mobw
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[WP] 30 years from today, an animal rights organization has developed a scanner which reproduces the animal’s circumstances of death upon scanning its meat. You decide to scan a cheeseburger for fun. You hear not a cow, but someone screaming desperately for help.
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"Did I honour you and your family my Fortitude!?"
My petit love lies badly injured on a stretcher in the healers cave. It's no longer a cave, but quite a nice modern hospital. A gift from betrothed's kind. To bring "peace and unity" between species.
**"You always call me such sweet things my Mender. It is... odd to see you on this side of the Healer's Cave. Normally you are the one patching me up. They have done an adequate job in repairing you. Though they lack your finnesse and precision.
Today you were a great warrior. That you live, has shown me the greatest honour. The true depth of your devotion to me. It was an incredibly attractive display. I look forward to your full return of health, so I can show my complete appreciation.My brothers are saying they beat you with the usual 'playful' attacks of this display, so as not to kill a weaker species. They know I am stronger and would have avenged you in a heart beat if they had killed you. I still can? You look more injured than Mog lead me to believe. She does not understand you're physiology like you do ours. Perhaps, when we visit your family, for your pre marriage rituals, you can see a human doctor?"**
~cough~ "You worry too much Borba. I'm ~cough cough~ fine. I just need a little rest."
**"You're so fragile Patrick the healer. I often fear I would break you in the private hibernation chambers."**
"Thank you for not breaking me. I appreciate it. Speaking of human customs before a wedding, we agreed I would do your trials your way, and you would follow mine. How are your preparations going?"
**"I have met your parents. I have prepared to meet your extended family. You have three sisters, Mary, Elizabeth, and Rose. You have one brother, John. Not warriors. Not healers like you. Your sisters and our mothers go and choose the attire for your wedding. That is very strange. To purchase a special outfit to wear to the hallowed grounds only to remove them for the ceremony."**
"No Bor, two ceremonies to unite us in marriage. Mine, you keep the clothes on. Yours...we go in bare, to show we are not hiding anything in marriage. We have no secrets, no weapons, all... revealed to each other. It's just us right? And Luthic the godess."
**"My family must witness it. You cannot hide your true self from them. They will be bare too."**
"Oh.... what if I don't... measure up to them?" He looked towards his connection piece.
**"Male humans pride themselves on the size of their 'connection piece', correct?"**
"I mean... a little...I guess"
**"Then you have no issues. I have told all my family that human males measure their genitalia to find the best male to mate with the females. Orcs have little in that area. Purely functional amounts. Not built for pleasure, like you. Does that ease your mind?"**
He looked buoyed by the assertion that he had the biggest connection piece.
"Really? You think I'm built for pleasure?"
**"Yes, of course. Why do you think I chose you? You will make a strong mate. An ideal, if unorthodox, choice. Today you have proved your worthiness to my family. Must I fight your sisters all together or one at a time?"**
"No fighting anyone in my family Borba! Walking, dancing, dining with cutlery"
**"What of the bouquets toss? Is that like the caber toss?"**
"No. It's just a bunch of flowers. But there will be cake. Remember how much you liked cake?"
**"I was looking forward to the caber toss..." I say sadly " .. I do like cake"**
"I have a surprise for you at my part of the wedding. No caber toss, but it does involve boulders." He said with a wink.
**"Oh my sweet fragile mender. I love you Patrick the Healer."**
"And I love you my fortress of strength, Borba the great warrior."
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I am Olga, orc woman from the Celibate clan. I was raised strong on the grains and oxen that cover the hills of Onan, by the creed of my bloodline, passed me by the maternal uncle who lasted the great war, where my parents could not. Though they did instil in me their courage, and sonorous, oft baritone singing voice, and the fibres that constitute these muscles making deadly what weapon I so choose to wield.
But dreams of the opera, of theatre, were forever forestalled, when at sun’s crest that morning I saw his steed in silhouette. A broad shouldered body hunched, wavering. All but broken, carried here by delicate canter—a fine horse in love with its master, journeyed untold leagues, to me, Olga, that I might be the healing hand it searched for.
But when it neared, and saw me close, it raised high on its hinds and cast its master backwards to the dirt. For I am also quite hideous. And for that I was not offended. If anything, I was pleased.
For we orcs are proud of our hideousness. Much pride is drawn from the swelling of a new facial wart—one growth per year, usually—and indeed, I was the most celebrated of any orc born the past century.
Except for Margaret, who had the cosmetics done.
To hell with Margaret.
And to my new heaven came George, laying half-dead in the dust of his steed then absconded. His ribs and clavicle and left elbow broken, mind semi-conscious, mouth bare able to utter the faintest of gasps as he glanced my way. I loved him immediately.
He never fully recovered his mental faculties after that. Paralysed, but alive—and poorly endowed—he was the worst of all conceivable lovers. Which was fulfilling of the most erotic orcan dream. He didn’t even register what was going on before the ceremony.
And so before our union, when informed of our tradition, his drooling that had become his chief form of communication stuttered and waxed panicked in protest. His quadriplegia rendered him wheelbarrow-bound and incapable of combat, a fact not lost on his vegetative state-of-mind.
Go anyway, I said, lovingly. My brothers are weak shit bastards and you’re still twice the man of them all put together.
“Uurrghslp,” he replied, just as lovingly.
It was settled. With the aid of the barrow bearer Haggærd he departed the next morning into the same sun that carried him here.
His protesting had been pointless as it turned out. For the next forty years he systematically defeated each of his foe with such ease that the story came back codified in legend. The Drooling Demon he was known, and with each conquest his stature rose and drove fear into the heart of his next.
How he won these apparently chaotic melees is still a source of debate and equally mysterious inquiry, but it was no doubt something to do with the motion-detecting automatic rifle I had affixed to his chest. A technology still in its nascency at the time and so from the perspective of archaic minds it was natural to his foreign, angelic physiognomy, and still well keeping with the standard code of practice. Suckers.
We got married, and in the heats of our passion that night, with poor estimation of my grip-strength relative to his tenuous human frame, I broke his clavicle a second time and crushed his every notion of ecstasy.
At least, I think so. Hard to know what the hell he’s saying half the time.
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[WP] You’re a scientist stuck in an Russian Artic research station. You’ve just killed your only colleague because the mysterious figures hidden in the snowstorm told you to do it.
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As I step out of the cab, I note the hero lying on the ground. Its Indomitable, he's barely breathing. For a hero capable of taking tank rounds to the face and barely flinch, this Villain is clearly a cut above the others.
"You're finally here. The final piece to let us, the League of Death, to take over this city. I kill you, and the hero's best mode of transport goes down." The villain narrates his plan. Why do villains do this? I raise a eyebrow trying to figure this guy out. He's clearly a new bad guy, masked, huge glowing tattoos all over him. I ask calmly "So, you're new here, what should I call you? Mr... Druid? By the way, you're paying the taxi fare."
At this point Indomitable stirs, groaning "run... you... can't... win"
The villain kicks him and roars "I AM A GOD! ONE THAT YOU NEED NO KNOW THE NAME OF!" pointing at me "besides, you're about to be dead anyway"
I sigh. "yes, yes, you're a undefeatable god, and I'm just John. Nice to meet you. Will that be cash or credit?"
At this point, the villain starts walking at me, clearly enraged by my calm nature.
I start walking toward him too "By all means I should be terrified, Indomitable is number one after all. But you see... Indomitable wasn't speaking to me. He was speaking to you."
The villain laughs "Me? what can you do, Mister John? You some kind of secret hero?"
I continue my walk toward him "Retired actually. You know, there's a reason why nobody has thought of taking out my taxi company. You league of whatever guys really need to do your research."
As the villain swings a punch at my head I cock back a punch myself aiming for his abdomen.
Dust flies everywhere as the punches collide with their targets.
A crackle from a fallen walkie talkie is heard.
"Boss? Are you there? Boss! ABORT MISSION! The owner of the Herocab is John Apocalypse! The one that stopped the demon realm's invasion by himself 20 years ago! He's killed a demon god!"
I look at the Villain, with a huge hole where his stomach was, whispering "Well now. It's a little late for doing that research don't you think?"
As he collapses, I walk to Indomitable. "Hey bud, hanging in there? I can get you to the hospital, but as per policy, I have to ask, do you want me to bring Mr "God" over there with?"
Indomitable painfully manages out a sentence "yeah... take him with us... he's gotta pay... for the call anyway"
"Oh, you're right! As per policy, the caller pays! Smart man, I get to double the fee too! Righto, let's get everyone patched up"
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I arrived at the scene of the call, and know immediately this is not going to be a normal job. It looks like a tornado went through here; metals are twisted around, there's scorched marks everywhere, deep gouges on the concretes. And there at the middle, the Hero Prometheus is lying on the ground with blood pooling around him, whist the Villain Scarlett is standing over him, with the hero's phone in her shaking hand.
After calming down Scarlett, she started to explained what happened while I check up on Prometheus and giving first aid. She was escaping from a bank heist nearby when Prometheus intercept her and they start battling, pretty standard stuff. But then Prometheus start acting weird, twitching and muttering incoherently. Then he start screaming and started to destroy everything in the vicinity before passing out. Not knowing what to do and scared out of her mind, Scarlett rummaged around Prometheus's belonging and found his phone and called me. Thank heaven Prometheus saved my contact as Herocab, as per the Guardian guideline.
I sighed tiredly, another victim then...With Scarlett help, we loaded up Prometheus into the cab. After making sure Scarlett is okay and find her way home safely, I got in the cab and start driving away. I called a secret number and told them to prepare for another victim of the drug.
As I make my way through hidden paths and groves, I look back at Prometheus and the occasional light from outside just further emphasize how badly injured he is. I've been getting more and more call like this these past several months. and everyone of them weighs heavily on me.
This all started half a years ago when the Hero Zeus suddenly became active again. Considering he's a senior citizen way past his prime by several decades, the heroes community flocked to him to figured out his secret. I mean, he went from this frail old man stuck on a wheelchair and unable to even clean himself without help, into this six feet tall Adonis with bulging muscles and a full hair to boot. Heck, he's even more muscular and powerful now than when he was at his prime! But no matter how everyone pestered him, Zeus just laugh and kept his secret. Until that fateful day..
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[WP] Many young wizards have taken to transmuting swans into humans and marrying them. One day, you are lucky enough to find a swan in the wild, and without hesitating, you turn it into a beautiful lady. Unfortunately, that ‘swan’, was a goose. You have just given a goose a human form.
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It makes a lot of sense, when you run the numbers. *Marrying a swan,* I mean.
Swans are wise, strong, beautiful, and firmly monogamous. What more could you ask for in a mate? You could ask that your mate also be *human,* of course, and you'd not be wrong for insisting upon this. However, I think you'll find it's much easier to locate an ordinary swan, and then use powerful magic to transmogrify them into a human, than it is to find one of the extraordinary humans who possesses all of those desirable swan-like qualities.
I decided to do just that -- transform a swan into my bride, that is -- on the day I turned forty-five. I was, of course, quite young to be settling down, for a wizard. But I've seen those archmagi who married late in life, doddering about and wheezing at a hundred and fifteen, trying to keep up with a with a gaggle of energetic magelings underfoot, and being all but incapable of picking up even the smallest of them without the aid of a levitation spell. I should rather like, I decided, to be able to teach my own children how to throw a ball -- both the mundane and incendiary varieties -- without need of a bone-knitting potion to repair my splintered spine immediately thereafter.
Unlike my peers, who tend to marry only when they're much older and have judged themselves to be close enough to death that it won't matter overmuch if it goes horribly wrong, I technically had time for a more conventional courtship. Still, I'm a busy wizard, and faced with a choice between spending months down in the city faffing about with indecisive society ladies and blushing debutantes, or a pleasant afternoon down by the pond with a large net, I naturally chose the latter.
That very evening, I returned to my tower with a magically sedated young swan cozily bundled up in my travelling cloak, and placed the graceful creature inside the complex transmutation circle I'd previously prepared, to begin the ritual that would turn her into a human woman.
An hour of intensive spellwork later, the magic took hold on her, and the swan became a slender, gracefully beautiful woman, with alabaster skin and platinum blonde hair that recalled her former white plumage. She slowly stood to her feet, unabashed by her nakedness, examining her new form with childlike wonder.
Speaking of which, some of you may be aghast at the idea that I would take advantage of a creature newly born as a human, but you are doubtless unaware of the manner in which such magic functions. She was a young adult bird, and therefore would become a young adult *woman,* with all the normal mental faculties thereof.
As to why I was nonetheless confident that she would become my bride, despite having only just met me, the answer to that is simple: female swans pragmatically select their mates based on their fitness to help care for their eventual offspring. As a man of plentiful means, both arcane and monetary, I am more than capable of providing for a family. More importantly, I knew how to do the funny little dance that male swans do, ostensibly to demonstrate that they possess such capability.
However, before I had even completed the preamble to the courtship dance, she rushed forward and embraced me tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered, fiercely. "Thank you so much. I hate the world, and everything in it, but you...you I hate *least."*
"I beg your pardon?" I responded, uneasily.
"I despise existence itself. I loathe the world." she elaborated. "I eat only so that I may fill my bowels with reeking offal, and then empty them upon the face of this accursed sphere, and I breed only so that when I am dead, my offspring can rip and tear and hiss at the foul midden heap called life in my stead."
Ah. That explained it. That distinctive loathing for all that is good in the world, along with the desire to despoil or destroy everything she saw, left only one possibility open: I had mistakenly transfigured a *goose.* A snow goose, likely, or perhaps a *coscoroba swan,* which despite its name, is also a type of goose.
Geese of whatever species, of course, are the most hateful of all living things. The only exception is domestic geese, which through eons of careful selective breeding have been rendered merely *disagreeable,* instead of murderously psychotic like their wild kin.
I became increasingly horrified as the woman I'd hoped to marry continued expressing her effusive gratitude for my grave mistake. "I have always been frustratingly limited in my ability to exact vengeance on the world for the unspeakable crime of existing, but you...you have changed all that. Now I have these clever fingers for gouging eyes, wringing necks, and lighting fires, and a mouth full of hard teeth for the ripping out of throats..."
She kissed me passionately, which was a quite pleasant experience, in spite of everything. When she finally broke the kiss, she touched my cheek tenderly.
"Bless you, you wonderful, vile, loathsome creature." she said softly, looking into my eyes. "I will destroy all things. But you, dear one, I will kill last of all. Farewell."
And then, unwilling to delay her reign of terror for a single second more, she broke our embrace and leaped through the tower window, taking to the sky...
...for about six seconds, after which she slammed into the rocky ground at the base of my tower and splattered her malicious brains all over the stone like a wineskin full of jam hurled at a brick wall by a trebuchet. Luckily, while they excel above all other beings in hate and ill-will, geese are not *quite* the match of swans, in wisdom and intelligence.
I sighed, heavily, as I looked down at the broken form of my "swan" princess, and then up at the position of the sun, which was just beginning to set. It was too late to go back to the pond, so I decided I'd wait until the next day to try again. Or perhaps the day after that.
That would give me time to go to the bookseller in the city, and pick up a newer edition of Waverly's Guide to Waterfowl, which hopefully would include better illustrations.
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Being a wizard wasn’t my first choice, nor technically even my third, but it was something that I turned out to be pretty good at. I wanted to be a doctor. I studied hard, learned the magic to augment my natural skills, and presented my findings with certainty that only the naivety of youth could. Well, that and narcissists, but we won’t get into that.
Anyway, that all went sideways when I was working on a burn patient, 3rd degree on about 70% of his body, and I just had a moment where I thought I could fix this. Him. I mean, I did, technically, much to the horror of my mentor and the nursing staff. Thankfully, the pain of reconfiguring his flesh knocked the patient out quickly. So, in the end, the patient was happy, if not a bit traumatised. I considered it successful. Only one supervisor, though, seemed interested in further study of my technique.
Wizards, I learned at about that moment, didn’t have the same ethical standards that doctors did. The wizard, Dr. Matherson, was quite impressed at how I could put aside my empathy for my patient and do what was necessary. I mean, I hadn’t. I literally just didn’t think about what it would be like to have all his burned flesh suddenly vaporised and then regrown in a more flexible way. Feasible? I should say natural, as scar tissue doesn’t behave like normal skin even in ideal conditions but if you have enough of it then it will suffice. I never did admit that to him.
We worked hard together afterwards to change how a lot of cosmetic surgeries were done. Much more anaesthetic was used in the subsequent trials and I was recognised by the College for my contributions quickly afterwards. The only money I got was from the patents I filled but that was slowly growing so, all in all, I’m pretty happy.
Why did I tell you that? Well, it’s so that you understand where I’m coming from when I say that I find my colleagues' purely selfish interest in transmuting swans into attractive companions abhorrent. The creatures are not only disfigured but their brain chemistry and structure are completely redone. There is no consent. Even afterwards, with what has been done to them, could consent even be established? My thought would be no, but I wanted proof.
So I found a swan.
I think.
I have never seen a swan, so I found a bird that could float and had a long neck, I did the whole transmuting thing, and you can see how well that worked behind me. He’s okay, he wasn’t in any pain when he first turned but he has a bit of a tempor. Possibly some anger issues. Actually, he has a lot of anger issues and is pretty protective of… I haven’t really figured that out yet.
—-
The hall went quiet as I finished my rambling explanation, and we all turned to look at the human, bleeding and hissing as he fought with the chains he was bound to at the back of the room. He was tall and rather heavy-set. His head and neck were almost charcoal black, but his body was anywhere from a pale white to a deep brown. Finally, he looked like he skipped every leg day at the gym.
In trying to get him to come back to the campus, the man had picked a fight with a statue, a mound of dirt, the edge of the walking path, every single person we passed by, a lone fence post, two of the panels to the fence that the fence post would eventually be connected to, and a door. It wasn’t any of the doors that we walked through. Just one of the many doors we walked by.
“Release me!” the man screamed, hissing and spitting at those around him.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” I said quietly and showed them the bite marks on my arm, “For something that is supposed to be graceful and gentle, he doesn’t really understand what your trying to do if you get close to him.”
“That would be because,” the normally reserved and stern Dean of Psychic Abstraction said in an exhausted tone as two more guards rushed past her, “That is a goose.”
“What's the difference?” I asked. I glanced at the man again and added, “You know, other than not being elegant or albino?”
“Well, they have a different sort of attitude,” the Dean of Congregation explained, “They are typically used to house demons because it’s difficult to tell them apart at the best of times.”
“Why would you use them then?”
“The idea is,” the Dean only glanced at me for a second and then back at my abomination, “Their threat level is respected at all times, even if they aren’t carriers.”
“Okay,” I said with a nod, “So, about what I did then?”
“Giving a demon a human body isn’t something any of us would recommend,” the Dean of Transmutation confirmed, “I doubt this creature was a carrier as, well, he would have probably done something actually dangerous by now.”
“Has he done anything other than hurt himself?”
“Flirt with a handful of people, the statue of Mara out in the front entrance, and the tree all the frat boys make jokes about,” I listed off quickly, “He then drank out of the fountain and ate one of the koi fish whole.”
“Okay,” one of them muttered as I watched the creature stare daggers at a chair near him, “What did you name him? We should probably see if we can change him back.”
“Well,” I groaned before turning around and admitting, “I didn’t at first; however, at one point, he tried reading a book, and it just sort of popped into my mind.”
“And it is?”
“Gaswan,” I quietly stated.
“Be in my office in twenty minutes,” the Dean of Psychic Abstraction demanded before pulling out her Grimoire and walking by me, “I’ll deal with this and then with you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I whispered back before walking past the other two Deans, just staring wide-eyed at the creature I had brought into the campus common room.
—-
Edit: Geswan to Gaswan because Gaston has an a in it. I should have double checked that before posting.
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[WP] Destroying 90% human population on earth, the aliens leave, assuming that society would crumble, and remaining 10% will just all fight for resources and eventually die out. They returned a thousand years later, expecting a cleansed planet, but were met with a nuclear strike from a satellite.
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Life without death loses all meaning.
I didn't understand that as a child. Nor as a teenager, even whilst reluctantly learning about each of the previous extinction-level events that challenged life on earth--not only humanity--to overcome.
Long before the end of Ordovician over 440 million years ago, evolution of life had taken root, and would not be denied. The constant steam of neutrinos from deep in the cosmos disrupted our great ancestor's DNA rapidly enough to ensure that *some* branches of life would carry on no matter what happened.
That first extinction event culled the first wave of weakness from the greater gene pool, allowing only the strongest 14% to persist. Despite their numbers being reduced to a breaking point, these leftover species quickly claimed the planet.
This second iteration of life on Earth spread across the globe for the next 70 million years, until the next great filter ripped away another languishing layer of obsolescence. Only the strongest 25% of *them* would move life forward.
Another refined generation was called to duty, to push forward and grow and adapt to a hostile, evolving planet, and it did so marvelously for another 120 million years before they, too, were reduced to the few who could withstand what came for them. This time though, life would be reduced to 4%. The strongest of the strongest chosen to carry on earth's legacy.
Their reign would be over after 30 million years, as the planet would claim 80%. Life, though, would stubbornly persist yet again, as it was designed, destined, FORGED to do.
A new, *extremely* powerful generation of life would *dominate* the planet for 135 million years until about 65 million years ago when an asteroid would hammer the final nail into the coffin of a generation that had already been losing steam. As if mother nature wasn't satisfied, as if the universe had been raising the children of Earth to become warriors, it created almost impossible conditions for life to survive.
But it did. Albeit, 24%. We, humans I mean, by far the most dominant species to ever walk the planet evolved from *this* 24%.
The aliens who decided to kill 90% of *us* -- *clearly* didn't do their research.
We are the strongest 10%, of the strongest 24%, of the strongest 20%, of the strongest 4%, of the strongest 25% of the strongest 14% of life on a planet that just so happens to have trained us to take ANYTHING this universe can throw at us and thrive anyway.
And we are pissed off.
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*Report of Incident in the Establishment of Mining Operations in the Sol System, Galaxy 3B*, by Zygax Andromeda Mining Corporation Sector 14 Commissioner Ha'xlan - translated from Andromeda Galactic Common to General Sapient by Zygax Assistant Scribe Pxyri
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I petitioned the Intergalactic Court Sector 14 Resources Court Judge, Ixthar Madren, on Myn 43298, Jogg 9 for Zygax mining rights in the Sol System, paying the establishment fee of 40,000 galactic credits, as well as abiding by Intergalactic Mining Code Section 38, regarding taxation to both sector and Andromedan governments.
On Jogg 12, clearance to begin mining operations was authorized by Judge Madren, and our initial scans 2 Jogg later revealed a class B primitive civilization on Sol III, as well as various forms of microbial life on the moons of Sol VI. Our scans estimated a very large deposit of lightsteel (Protons: 13) on Sol III, worth an estimated 243 million Andromedan Credits, and a significant deposit of Lantrium (Protons: 154) on Sol I, worth an estimated 45 million Andromedan Credits.
I authorized a cleansing vessel to deliver a course of Gamma Radio Cleanse to Sol III, to allow for the safe landing of our mining cruisers. The cleansing vessel noted a handful of primitive orbiting satellites around Sol III, but cleansing occurred without incident.
13 Jogg later, as I sent our first mining cruiser to Sol III, resistance by the Sol III inhabitants was noted by Commander Lop'Zek of the aforementioned cruiser. My cruiser sustained moderate hull damage from primitive fissile and fusile weaponry, fired from satellites recently installed, as well as from the ground of Sol III itself. Repairs for the ship totalled 231,498 credits, and two of our crew members were severely injured.
Following this incident, I am authorizing 17 cleansing vessels to be dispatched to Sol III to eradicate all resistance to Zygax mining operations. The resources gained from the Sol System should assist in fueling the shipyards of Andromeda for many Myn to come, as well as returning a handsome profit for Sector 14 operations.
Ha'xlan, Zygax Mining Commissioner - Sector 14
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[WP] you were bitten, you know your time is counted. So as a final act you decided drink all the booze and beer you collected until you passed out. The next morning you wake up with a headache but...still human
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"I doubt it's a cure," our doctor said. "Since you started pouring back nearly half our liquor ten minutes after you got back from scavenging, nearly dying of alcohol poisoning may have disinfected your entire body in the worst way possible. Frankly, you are lucky everyone here is happier that you are getting better than angry that all we have left is that moonshine Pat makes." After some chuckling he left me alone back in my broom closet of a quarantine room.
We had moved into a giant deserted steel mill. After all it seemed like a defendable place outside of an urban centre with no one on premises. It was big and empty at first, but slowly filled up with a good number of people and their personal projects (after all, we were looking for people who knew how to make/grow things). You had Pat; a homebrewer who clearly liked not remembering things, Ella; someone who blacksmithed as a hobby and a decent mechanic, and T; who knew how hydroponics worked and taught 30 others in order to produce our food on a large scale. There were at least a dozen others who knew this and that as well. I was welcomed because I fixed a fellow scavenger's bicycle, but I did more guard duty and "shopping trips" than bike repair.
If you did not have what was considered an "essential skill," you were put on the chore schedule, cooking, organizing, clothes washing, guarding, or guard duty among other things. Needless to say I got bit during my three day outing looking for rubber hoses and glass bottles for Pat. I brought everything back (including a lot of full ones from an un-smashed crate in a bar house store room.) and set them down in the fenced off crevice Pat used as a storeroom. Then realizing my mortality I took the keg tap from its peg it was hung on and began pouring from the kegs labeled "Negan's microbrew", and then everything else.
When I came to I was feeling like shit in a room who's one little window was far too bright. With a note on the door saying "try to rest I'll be back for your bedpan later.", also, there was a chain attached to a collar around my neck, locked to a remnant of a shelf bolted to the floor.Whether It was for the hangover or the zombie bite I felt like shit, I thought I might have gotten better by the end of the day but I honestly was not sure. By day three our doctor had unlocked the collar, but forbade my going out because I was "in trouble for drinking all the booze".
I never thought my biggest frustration in the apocalypse would be getting grounded.
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*Shit.*
There wasn't much else I could say, really. I'd been bitten. And that meant I was screwed. My life; the sum of all the memories and experiences that made me who I was.... were going to fade away like they never even existed.
And with how fucked the world was now, wasn't that indeed the case?
Heh. It was funny.
Every other survivor I've met saw me as a heartless, unfeeling son of a bitch; a machine who just trucked on regardless of what anyone else felt. They weren't too far off, to be honest. The world had no place for kindness or empathy....
And yet.
*I.... just wanted to live.*
Well.... nothing I can do about it now but drink.
And drink I did.
I took a long swig straight from my half-full bottle of whiskey.
It was my last one.
Not that it would matter. My time was almost up so it wasn't like there was any point in leaving my booze behind.
I couldn't feel my arm anymore. The bite had torn through my forearm and nearly reached the bone. It was a miracle that I made it out with just that. Shriekers were vicious bastards, especially smelled blood.
I've seen what tends to happen when a group of them catches up to an unlucky survivor.
It wasn't pretty.
I'd wrapped the wound as best I could with one working arm. Even if I was gonna die here, I wasn't going out looking more like a corpse than I had to.
I chugged the remains of the whiskey and sighed as it burned going down.
Well.... this is it.
Goodbye, world.
You cold-hearted bitch.
--------------------
I was awakened by the cry of a crow that had somehow gotten through the boarded-up windows.
My eyes were slow to open but open they did.
.... What the hell?
I was.... alive. How was I alive?
I remember being bit. I remember the pain. Hell, I even remember shoving my fingers through the bastard's rotting skull.
The brain was soft, but its eye socket felt worse than rubbing sandpaper. But that pain was absolutely *nothing* compared to being bit.
Confusion was the first thing that came to mind but.... no, that word didn't do justice to what I was feeling right now.
I was shocked. Bewildered. Flabbergasted.
But most of all....
I was relieved.
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[WP] It finally happened. Through means not yet known, everyone's physical beauty reflects their innermost selves; the kind but portly girl is now an absolute bombshell, the asshole CEO is now hideous, and so on. Nothing prepared you for what you came face to face with in the mirror, though.
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To say it was wild was to put it mildly.
It had been like the world clicked and people just... changed. If it was someone you knew, you still knew them even though their whole self was entirely different. They didn't look like how you remembered them a lot of the time, but you knew. Some friendship grew stronger, some were ruined.
It was nice to see trans individuals suddenly just *have* what they had been fighting so hard for. Hard for their enemies to argue who they were now when it had been made clear. That's who they *are.* Suddenly it didn't matter if it was all in their head or "just a phase for attention" or any of the other dumb soundbites. Heck, the detractors couldn't even complain about "doctors mutilating children" cause it wasn't going to happen now. Just gender euphoria for everyone, even the ones who came out on the uglier side cause hey, there are assholes in every group.
The amount of people in middle and upper management who were suddenly two-faced was... well, it wasn't really surprising, when we all thought about it. We'd always kind of known, hadn't we?
A few news crew caught some politicians and absolutely they were spineless and slimy. That was a fun 'I told you so' moment. And a bit depressing when it was someone you'd wanted to believe in.
I thought about everything in my life before looking in the mirror that day. I thought about the times I'd lied or stolen, how I hadn't finished school. How I had been job hopping. How I'd supported others without question. How I'd volunteed. How I'd given back.
And I wondered, how would I be judged? Was I more good or more bad? When my heart was weighed against this physical feather, where had I ended up?
But I looked, there was something strange. And then I realized. My hair was slowly changing color, my eyes too. My skin lightening and tanning, freckled one minute and bare the next. My nose subtly shifting in height and shape. I was growing and shrinking, only by a few inches, nothing extreme. But I was completely in flux.
I was not yet done. My fate not yet decided.
So what to do with that knowledge. Are you like me?
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The Changing is what the mortals call it.
I was doing some recon work for the lord of my realm, gathering information as to how best to convert the majority to worshipping him. A nice little loophole, finding worlds with no magical barriers keeping our kind from directly influencing and being among them.
But that matters not.
I woke that morning to everything seeming normal. To be fair, though, I did not go outside. I had a tea appointment with a member of the local clergy of these mortals' main god. I had to thoroughly clean the steeping pot and decanter from my own tea the night before. Nightshade and deathbelle, while delicious when delicately boiled, tend to be poisonous to most mortals. All, really, now that I'm thinking about it.
The time for tea came, as did the knock on the door. I was not prepared for the hideous creature that stood on the other side.
"Father Henry, you look, ah, more hedious than normal," I tilted my head slightly to the left. "Are you having an allergic reaction?"
The man looked shocked. "No, no! Everyone has changed, we don't know why. Not even the Heretical Scientists have an answer! But you are unchanged..."
I let him in, and brewed him a lovely mix of chamomile, lavender, and cinnamon tea. Father Henry continued to look at me warily.
"You are unchanged, how can that be?" he kept muttering it to himself over and over again.
I may have put some wormwood in the mix. Oops.
He gladly drank the tea, and started spouting nonsense.
Godly nonsense.
For the first time that day, I glanced at my mirror. I had not changed in look at all.
This is the influence of a different god. Not mine.
This world has been compromised, and unworthy of my lord.
Time for a new world to convert. The Darkness has taken this one.
The reflection told me so.
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[WP] Your job description: 1) Sit in an empty room with a red button for 8 hours a day. 2) NEVER press the red button, no matter what happens. 3) Do not talk to anyone about the job. After many uneventful years, your phone rings and a stern, slightly panicked voice says: „Press the button. NOW!!“
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"You got it!"
*click*
Nothing happened.
"Aww well." I sighed "Guess I'm fired now huh?"
"Wait you actually pushed the button?" The distorted voice on the other side of the line asked "You broke the ONE rule we told you not to break?"
"Yeah pretty much..." I paused and continued. In for a penny. "Well no. I broke all the other rules too. I dont sit in front of the button all day either. Its bad for your health. I stand up and walk around to stretch my legs sometimes.".
"Well the sitting part is just a figure of speech. We wouldnt have fired you for that.
"Well good because I was ready to report you to OSHA if you did. But thats not all. I talk about the job all the time. Made a post on r/writingprompts last month to gauge how people would feel about it. Most people leant towards not pushing it so I kinda explored all those possibilities in my imaginaton. Not enough pushing it responses though, so here I am to sate my curiostiy."
I paused for a reaction. Nothing. So I continued to ramble as was my nature.
"I'm surprised I havent been fired already. I figured a mysterious employer that could afford to pay me a generous wage for doing nothing would have a much more extensive surveilance network. I'll be disapointed if I find out I've been keeping my choices in porn tame all these years for no reason."
"I dont understand. Why are you being so honest?" Asked the voice on the other end of the line "Why did you push the button? Why after all these years of discipline you crack immediately with no resistance?"
"Well I'm not very good at lying. If im going to be fired anyway I might as well lay it all out. As for the button, the boredom for one. I got a good amount of savings so that should hold me until I find another job. But i figured the day would come that I be tested. And either they would be looking for obedient drones or something else. I know myself. I could never thrive in a position where I had to obey orders and do nothing else. So I decided to stay true to who I am. I have no way to gauge what criteria you are trying to measure so one answer was as good as any button pushing-wise."
"Werent you worried it might launch a nuke and kill millions or open a portal to hell or something?" queried the voice.
"Yea or it might release a cure for the common cold into the atmosphere and disarm all nuclear weapons. What can I say? I'm a gambler. And a bad one."
After a pause the voice responded "One moment please." Followed by silence.
A minute passed I decided to push the button a few more times in case this was part of the test.
TBC?
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I was hired here for security and to watch this big red button for 8 hours a day. I was never told what the button does or what it's purpose was but only that it was critical that I not press it nor anyone else. Sure, I was curious about it as much as the next guy but I specifically remember the strict tone of my superior's voice indicating it was important that I followed orders. I did that for several years and nothing ever happened, until one day my superior rang my phone and said "Press the button NOW!!"
"But what about your previous orders?" I asked.
"There's no time to explain just push it NOW!!" he barked back in an angry and panicked voice over the phone.
I remained unsure of the consequences of my actions but he seemed to be afraid of something so I pressed the button. I had been curious about what this button does but I was hoping to not find out this way. Well, as I'm writing to you after the fact, I found out that it's a nuclear missile launch button and my decision to press it is likely going to bring Armageddon. I have so many questions. Why did they hire me of all people to just sit in this room alone for 8 hours a day for the past several years? I thought I was signing up for a more typical security position which I enjoy doing and have had plenty of experience. It paid well so I never quit but looking back, I wish I did. My decision to press the nuke button is inevitably going to lead to a nuclear war with millions of casualties and I feel sick to my stomach. I just hope my wife and daughter are safe. I'm scared that I might never see them again.
If you're reading this Amy, you're the love of my life and I hope you will remember me for the love I provided to you and Grace. I want you both to evacuate as soon as you can to another country that's not involved in the upcoming war. I don't know the answers for certain but I do know that South America and Africa are not very involved in American/European/Asian geopolitics. Just get to safety. I don't even know if I'm safe but don't wait for me. I'll follow you if I'm able to. I love you both very much and I hope you will forgive me for my actions.
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jr3s946
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jr288pt
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[WP] "They only ever use a single spell in combat" "Yea but theyre REALLY good at that one spell"
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Holding a scroll in his hand, Great Denios, one of the wizards from Human Resources Tower asks his fellow members. The crystal ball in front of him shows a young face, full of determination to prove themself.
"Let's see. Two years of experience in Alchemy in That Potion Works, and another two in Charming in Loving Toad, not bad. Not bad at all. Loving Toad is very picky in choosing their employee, after all." Stroking the long and unkempt beard under his chin, Denios goes through the CV scroll carefully. He is old, but two hundred years is not enough for one to become senile just yet.
"It's great that Magifictial Intelligence finds such a good CV amongst a thousand. Wizardry nowadays is just so convenient." He mumbles to himself. "We've got another young Charmer. These guys are hard to come by."
"Well...Great Denios... This young wizard is certainly very promising if they join our production tower, but they are actually submitting their CV scroll for the combat tower." A fellow wizard on his side explains. "But he has only one combat spell. And his quote is: I fear a wizard who cast only one spell a thousand times, rather than a wizard who knows how to cast a thousand spells."
"Brucism? That's even better! I like this kid already. Unlike us Explodists, the younger generation of Centurians needs to study everything in school. I already told those bastards at the Education Bureau want to create an army of incompetency. But they just don't care." A smile appears on Denios' wrinkled face. Followed by a frown after thinking of his most recent debate in the Capital.
"And what kind of spell are we talking about? Firestorm? Blizzard? Something with more destructive capability or something with more crowd-control elements to it?" Pushing his beef with the Education Bureau aside, Denios continues.
"It's Slip, sir. Albeit an alternated version."
"Slip? Slippery slip?" The tone of Denios' voice turns from interest to confusion. "That is... A spell in a kindergarten spell book!"
He could understand if the spell was mundane. After all, it is not common but also not too rare to see a wizard who finds other ways to improve a simple spell. The simpler a spell is, the easier to adjust to one's own liking. Furthermore, Denios is a wizard of tradition. He believes that there is no such thing as a bad spell. Only bad wizards.
However...Slip...can be countered easily by casting Ground for one person or its upgraded version, Gravity for a whole troop. Whenever there was a fight, those two spells were the ones that were the first to be applied.
"Yes, Great Denios. But he has sent us a video to showcase his Slip spell." Without much delay, the crystal ball in front of Denios changes. This time, that transparent sphere the size of his torso shows a duel between two people.
Waving a wooden wand with an intricate design, the opponent of Denios' interest shouts: "I cast blublrrrrrrrrr." As if his tongue is going all over the place, the rest of the shout turns into a hot mess.
And, of course, an incomplete spell is useless.
"What did you do?! I cast FUWAHBLURBLBRBRBR??!?"
"FIREBAHUFUXJSBLLRRRR!!"
"BLIZZARLBLRLBLRRRRRR???"
"I give up..."
At this moment, the young wizard turns to the optical recording.
"I call this version: Slip of the toungue."
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Mince the mouse was proud of his little nut collection he built. He wouldnt go hungry for a week. He about started the first bite before that big looming shadow came over him no not again! This squirrel is an asshole. “Give em here or ill bite ya again.” Mince begrudgingly handed them over his face grimacing as he looked over into the grass. “Ha loser” said the squirrel before scampering away with his nuts.
Mince is almost knocked over and the grass moves in a wave from the powerful snore of the sleeping bulldog in the sun a bright neon ball in its mouth. Mince squeeks shrilly waking Carlos the Bull dog, “Why do you sleep why dont you chase that squirrel?!” The bulldog wakes with a startle snorting and then gives a look of indifference to the squirrel “he’s over there and I’m over here.” The bulldog murmurs and gets comfortable back into the grass. “But why dont you do it isnt that your job?” The bulldog thinks and says “i get food when I need I sleep when I need and I’m praised for doing nothing. Why should I chase him?” Mince looks confused “But what makes you get out of bed each morning?” Carlos The bulldog says “why would I get out of bed each morning? The only problem in my life is I cant scratch me own back.” Mince storms off frustrated the indifference of the bulldog agitating him while he starves because that bully the squirrel.
The next day Mince gets lucky finding 3 peanuts. Finally he thinks I can eat. As he bigs to take a bite out of his eye he sees the squirrel scampering down the tree. The mouses hairs stand up looking like a little spikeball of fur. “Carlos wake up” carlos stirs awake with that snort and distant look in his eyes. “the squirrel is coming can you help?” Carlos asks “do I have to move?” With those droopy eyes. Mince thinks a moment and takes the ball from Carlos’s mouth. The shock on carlos face as mice shoves three peanuts into his cheeks. “Hold those dont chew” and he puts the ball back in carlos’s mouth.
The Squirrel comes down and says “Give em here Mince.” mince’s heart starts to pound “I-I dont have them.” The squirrel says “You hid them” mince says “Where i am so skinny and brittle I couldnt have possibly put them anywhere.” The squirrel looks around and see Carlos still sleeping. “Next time Mince…” and he scampers away.
Once the squirrel was gone mince says to carlos ok you can wake up. And he retrieves the peanuts from his cheek. Carlos has a look of joy and a big smile over his saggy face “He didn’t even know I wasn’t sleeping I’m really good at faking that!” Mince smiles and says “You did great! You helped me let me scratch your back” as mince expertly scratch’s carlo’s back carlos is raving he’s so excited “He had no idea that idiot I’m really good at this I didn’t think I was good at anything! Thank you mince!” And the two of them became friends carlos finally finding something he’s talented at and mince learning to stand up for himself once and for all.
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[WP] You are a lich who retired from villainy long ago and took up teaching at a magical school. Today someone made the mistake of threatening your students.
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"Ah, what a wonderful view. So many youths with untapped potential, all failing a simple warding spell" I couldn't help but chuckle as I watch the young ones tried casting the simple Barrier cantrip, the very first spell we teach every mageling when they arrive. Sure, its only the first week of school, and many only have just discovered how to even focus on drawing out their energies thru the various methods of focuses. But before they can even learn how to throw a simple fireball, they must learn how NOT to be hit by one.
I glance over to the lakeside waters, the first hint of autumn beginning to appear on the edges of the leaves. Its a beautiful day outside, a perfect time to let the young mages get fresh air and sunlight, as well as some well needed Vitamin D for my weary bones. True, none of these kids have figured out that I am a lich, thanks to my disguise magics and illusions. Heck, most of them think of me as an elderly grandfather, or at least I hope they do. A few may have their suspicions of me, but I think they think I'm just a long living elf. Hard to tell what these kids think I am, they just talk all sorts of weird lingo I have never heard of. Ah well, as long as I have the "skipidy rizz" they rattle off about, I think we should be fine.
"Mark! Stop trying to think of the Barrier as a weapon, and more of a bubble! As cool as it would be to make it a sword, that's not what it does! Focus on making the Barrier first, then worry about its looks later!" I sigh as the brat sticks his tongue out at me before returning to force the spell into the shape of what I assume is a sword. The kid has potential, but his stubborness will be the end of him someday. Like his Grandfather before him, when he fought me. I wonder if Mark's parents told him the truth...
"Teacher!" I hear a shout, and turned to see Emily in a perfectly casted Barrier spell. "Teacher! Help!"
I chuckle as i approached her. "Well, well, well, That looks very good, Emily, why are you asking for-"
"Teacher!!! The lake monster!!!" Emily shouted out, staring right behind me. I turned, and was looking upwards towards what I quickly recognized as a Hydra, seven serpentine heads raising out of the water, each head that could easily devour a child whole staring down at my class. Foolish pest.
"Oh, well, this could work well as demonstration purposes." I shrugged, preparing the simple cantrip in my mind. "Come children, behind me please, and quickly now!"
Most of the children quickly obeyed, running behind me, however Emily found out quickly the drawback to the Barrier Spell; once you cast it, you have to dispell it, or wait for it to be broken or run out of energy. But she was close enough to me, so she was not in any danger. The Hydra, on the other hand- was lunging all 7 heads right towards her. Well shit.
"BARRIER!" I casted my own around me and the children, as well as Emily's little shield. The glowing purple light quickly hardened right as the heads reached it, bouncing them away with dark growls and rumblings. I leaned over to Emily, smiling softly with the illusion guise. "Are you alright Emily? Nearly scared in there?"
"I-I think so, teacher" she whimpers softly, tears forming in her eyes. "Am-am I trapped in here?"
"Not at all, child\~ The Barrier will fade when you wish it to, just focus on your barrier, let the magic soften." I coached her softly, talking calmly as patiently, using her barrier to help the students focus on Emily rather then the Hydra, who was now thrashing against my own Barrier.
"But... but what if the Hydra breaks through your barrier?"
"Oh, I don't think it will even have the time for that, my child" I smile softly, and i thickened the purple hue of my Barrier, hiding the hydra from the childrens eyes, as well as hiding my undead army being summoned around the Hydra. "Look, we will await in here until the Hydra leaves. In the meantime, just take in a deep breath, and let your barrier down, nice and slowly."
Emily slowly calmed down, and eventually was able to lower her Barrier. She quickly rushed into my arms, holding my tightly in her young fear. I... I hadn't hugged a young child in such a long time. I was afraid that she could feel my bones through the robes, but now wasn't the time for that concern. I picked her up softly, holding her close with my boney arms, smiling to the other children.
"Alright, you can see how powerful my barrier is. If you don't think I can hold off that hydra, the rest of you better start learning how to make your own barriers!" I grinned with my crooked smile, getting the rest of the children to quickly return to practicing their barriers. I turned to look at Eily, about to let her down when I noticed she had fallen asleep in my arms. Goodness, did she wear herself out from her own barrier?
I genlty sat down upon the grass, watching over the rest of the children as they practiced on their Barriers. Outside, my undead army had swiftly dealt with the Hydra, and was dragging the body off. Where did it come from, I wonder? How did it get onto school grounds? Questions I will have to answer later, I suppose... "Teacher..." I heard Emily stir in her sleep. I glanced over to her, curiously. "... you need to eat, you are so thin..." That made me chuckle softly. Such wonderful potential for a brighter world in my arms.
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"If you surrender now I promise we shall make your deaths quick and painless. If you insist on a fight then we will make sure your agony last for as.."
Brunan the conqueror is stopped mid word by the one thing he had not expected to see.. an animated skeleton standing on the ramparts of the castle. This isn't good. Someone in the castle is a damned necromancer. One thing he hates are damn necromancers. Just animate corpses then animate his dead men to fight for them. Nasty business it is fighting the damned. Before he can speak again the skeleton starts talking.
"Be known this school is under the protection of Ignar the lich. If you simply walk away now I will overlook your transgressions. Utter a single word and well you shall find out"
Now brunan has to make a choice. If he walks away its a 50/50 chance the damn soul bound monster stays true to his word. If he stays well things are not looking good..
"My apologies master ignar, I will be departing."
Before he can say anything else the land to his right begins to shift and animated corpses of are those vikings? Oh dear this isnt good.
"I made myself clear. Now you can run or stand either way you battle the last army that believed our school looked like a tasty treat."
Ignar sighs. Why cant they just do as they are told. Now the boys are going to have to go cover the graves again. 2nd time this week in fact. Maybe a proclamation to the kingdom will help.. no those savage things from last week just stumbled upon the grounds. They did put up a fight ignar had to admit. Got the upper classmen and apprentices some right good practice..
Brunan screams as he fends off the one armed corpse trying to cleve him with a broad sword. He shouts to his men but it matters not the dead are surrounding them and cutting them down like flies. Soon its only brunan and a page they had kidnapped from an abbey they raided last week. The lich walks slowly out of his keep with a double line of wizards and sorcerers behind him.
"You where warned afterall"
Ignar says looking at the two remaining beings that survived. The army has three rules. One if they attack you kill them. If they surrender you bring them to ignar to decide. 3 if they are not yet an adult regardless of whether they attempt to fight or not they are restrained and brought to ignar.
He stops in front of the boy and asks him his name. The child no more than 12 just shutters and cries. It seems someone cut out his tongue.
"We found him that way. Dont know if it was them wicked monks we found or someone before them.."
Ignar just punches the man across the chin.
"You will only speak when spoken too."
Brunan quietly nods in acknowledgment.
"Good. This boy here has any harm come to him under your watch?"
Brunan shakes his head "no we took him from far worse. Was gonna make him a scout when he grew up. Hes good at drawing and what not."
Brunan realizes he has spoken without a direct request and cringes waiting for the strike. Ignar just stares at him. After a solid minute he speaks again.
"Your threat was not serious was it."
Brunan looks to the lich "no I just say that to get them to give up and we take everything useful and pretend we are tired and spare them. Except when we find shit like that abbey. Monsters they were. Devil warship, sacrifice and well things if rather not acknowledge if im being honest"
Ignar looks to the east
"So the brotherhood of the serpent has returned. Eh i should go hunt them down again but honestly my bones ache. I will tell you what. Take this army of the damned. March them past that abby to riverwash and find the boatman gransh. He will tell you how to get to where the brotherhood keeps its main fighting forces. Go and rid this land of their presence and we will call it even."
Ignar extends a hand to brunan half to bring him to his feet and to seal the bargain. Brunan accepts and upon standing ignar leans in for one more comment.
"Once you have defeated the brotherhood this army shall be no more. Make sure they receive a proper burial or i shall come looking for you."
Brunan smiles thanks the lich and jumps on the one remaining horse to lead the army of the damned away.
Ignar chuckles to himself
"I wonder how long he will ride before he finds out they are already dead. Not sure where that Abby was but its not very likely there are more seeing i killed them all several years ago.. my child i apologize. We are a school of higher magical learning. Im sorry to know someone turned you into a mute. However we have studies where that doesnt matter. Would you like to join us?"
The boy smiles nodding his head rather fast. Good the trauma doesnt seem to be that bad. Hopefully he becomes proficient in hand spells. Looking out over the grounds ignar sighs he is happy he decided to retire here. Happier that things have been going so well for the last 20 years. Also that he got that idiot to take the bodies away and now he has to be the one to deal with them.
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[WP] Being invisible has its perks, but you can't exactly sign a lease. As such, you've become quite the expert lockpick to always have a place to sleep. When you settled into the cozy lake cabin to get out of the rain, you hear "We've been expecting you" from the shadows.
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Five simple words. Or was it six? Let’s call it six because that makes the phrase symmetrical and everyone loves symmetry.
“Peek-a-boo! I see you.”
It was the invisible man’s favorite game. He’d approach unsuspecting victims and scare the pants off of them with those six simple words. Hell, one time he effectively scared the pants *on* his buddy Ray (it should be noted that Ray was on the toilet at the untimely time of his unappreciated pranking).
But it was all in good fun. And more often than not, that good fun was even harmless fun. “What’s the point of being invisible if you can’t have a good time with it,” the invisible man was wont to say. To be sure, our invisible jester-prince was more jester than prince. No person off limits, no joke too far. Indeed, the invisible man was an equal-opportunity prankster.
It was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. That is, he was homeless.
Now before you go on empathizing with our hapless hero, you must have all of the facts—one must not jump to conclusions. The invisible man was not homeless out of necessity, nor out of happenstance; no, the invisible man was homeless by choice.
You see, when one learns as an invisible boy that one can steal candy bars without so much as raising an eyebrow, one grows up to be an invisible man that will steal shelter without so much as raising a penny.
Now, where was I? Oh yes: it was a well known fact that our resident invisible man was in fact no resident at all. The invisible man “couch surfed” his way through life. Conventional wisdom tell us that “couch surfing” implies an inherent level of consent provided by the owner of said couch—that was not the case for our visibility challenged hero. For that reason, we’ll call the invisible man’s tact “home invasion.”
Residents in town began to grumble and groan at the thought of an invisible prankster living among them. Even his friends grew tired of his tireless antics. And, you know what, it makes sense. That would get old and fast. We’ve all been around the guy for whom everything is a joke and nothing is sacred. You know the guy in high school who walked around the locker room naked, whipping kids with a wet towel shrieking and laughing never realizing that he has already peaked in life. Nobody likes that guy. The invisible man had become that guy.
And so it was that one day, the jester-prince became the jestee-prince.
One night, the invisible man sauntered into—that is, again, committed a home invasion—a vacant bedroom that he frequented. It was in a quiet house, in a quiet neighborhood, on a quiet street. You see, even pranksters like a good night’s sleep.
As his head hit the pillow, the invisible man heard five words that shook him to his core.
“We have been expecting you!”
You see, it’s five words, not six. From earlier. “Peeka-boo. I see you!” Five words. It works better that way. It’s symmetrical. Like I told you, everyone loves symmetry.
Anyway…At the sound of the words, the invisible man launched himself out of bed and onto his feet. Only, since they were expecting him, they must have been expecting that reaction, and so as he landed on his feet he was coated from head to toe in colorful, neon pink corn starch, a sack of which had been cut from above his head.
At that moment, our invisible hero was no longer so invisible. At that same moment the invisible man’s friends realized their shocking lack of foresight and paid dearly for it.
You see, being an invisible man didn’t just mean that he didn’t have to pay for candy, or shelter, or the myriad other things one expects an invisible man may steal. It also meant—and really, had any of them given this even a second of thought it would have been obvious to them—that the invisible man didn’t need to buy clothes.
And so it was that the invisible man’s friends saw the invisible man’s pecker and all agreed to leave the pranking to the professional (i.e. the invisible man) on a go forward basis.
At the end of the day, the invisible man had also learned a valuable lesson. Don’t push your friends too far, or they may be forced to think hard on a way to get you back. And, it’s a good thing to keep in mind for us all, as we—let’s face it—all have friends who are rather dim witted who may pull a prank that leaves your pecker—or any other unseemly area—exposed in a less than flattering neon pink powder.
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Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive
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They say not to mess with magic; in this case, 'they' is every PSA, textbook and veteran you interact with from the moment you discover how to shoot sparks. They say many things about magic, how it behaves, and how it thinks.
Of course, they also suggest the speed limit, and nobody thinks that 70 is a reasonable speed no on the highway.
Of course, I found out the hard way that the speed limit comparison was the problem or I wouldn't have thought about this so much. While speed limits are a matter of physics and law, magic has always been about negotiation. Sure, some spells are so consistent that they are essentially laws, but anything off the beaten path is a conversation between the caster and curse.
I'd wanted to turn invisible, but I rewrote the spell to try and buy myself an extra hour of invisibility. That's how all of this started, two glasses of wine, a bad idea and misplaced confidence in my improv skills. I'd bought myself extra time; I had yet to figure out how much.
It was at least enough that I'd stopped being angry about it a while ago. Invisibility wasn't entirely downside, and life as a 'ghost' was tolerable.
Either that, or I was just used to it. Hard to tell.
Living with the accidental curse was interesting. I still needed to eat, sleep, keep myself warm and everything that came with that, but there wasn't a way for me to engage with society. Jobs, leases and most other steps in the social ladder required a visible form. I'd been able to use Government Curse Adjustment Programs for a while, but they were underfunded and weren't a long-term solution.
No, the solution had been to embrace invisibility and do what I did best, disappear. I could live in someone's house for several days before they suspected a poltergeist, and there were enough books to keep me entertained. Between my required curse-breaking hobby, getting four unofficial degrees from MBU and trying to find a fabric that didn't turn invisible when I wore it, I'd managed to keep myself busy.
All of this to explain why the homeless, jobless invisible woman was taking a vacation. I thought I deserved it, and I'd seen the family that owned this cabin head back to the city earlier today. I could spend a week here, specifically not getting a tan, and head somewhere else before they came back next weekend.
The front door was easy. They always were. Lockpicking spells were more than enough for residential bolts, and nobody was arresting me for illegal magic anytime soon. The alarm systems were more annoying, even if I set it off and the cops showed up...
Well, it was like lockpicking; they'd need to find me first.
I opened the door and slipped into the house just as it began to rain outside. The light pitter-patter of droplets chased me as I shut the door and kicked off the sneakers I'd been wearing. My ratty shoes popped into view as they stopped touching my body. I needed a new pair, but I'd kept putting it off because nobody could see them, and I had no idea if they even looked good on me.
Thinking about it, I missed shopping. I'd always been too harsh on myself in the mirror and put things back on the shelf that I should have bought. I'd always been able to tell myself that I had years to make brave fashion choices. Now I didn't have a reflection, which made it hard to know whether I looked like a wet rat or cute as I broke into this place.
I turned away from the mirror in the entranceway and found the light switch. I flicked it on, and a single bulb in the entryway sputtered to life, leaving the rest of the house mostly shadow.
"One of those houses," I mused to myself as I walked properly inside and started to take stock of the little lakehouse. There were only three rooms, and the main one was taken up by a massive dining table that was clearly the most expensive thing in the room.
I flicked another switch, and the fixture above the table turned on; five bulbs where candles should have been on a chandelier. The warm light betrayed how shined the table was like nobody had ever eaten off it before.
I was going to change that this week.
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ll69u15
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ll61m3p
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[WP] “The fae are not evil. No more so than the tide or the wind. They are not good or evil, they simply are.” “They killed my son!”
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"The fae are not evil, no more so than the tide or the wind. They are not good or evil; they simply are," said the wise woman, her hair braided around sigils and symbols woven from reeds. Her voice was soft and gentle, but not a hint of sorrow or real sympathy even touched it.
"They killed my son!" Amara spat, her brown eyes so ablaze with ire and red they could have boiled away her tears. "They ensorcelled him, drew him into the forest, and ate him - and they did so while their sorcery had me paralyzed! If that is not evil, then why do we have the word?" It had taken her weeks to even speak again, and now she would not be ignored.
"Justification for rash action, I suspect, mostly an invention of the men who run the church."
"At least those men *do something*. You, oh druidess, only patronize. When we are wounded or ill, you tell us that nature must run its course - but when it is you or one of your pets who suffers, then your magic is the answer."
"If I depart, then who will guide you?"
"When a demon haunted our village, brother Tane gave up an arm to slay it without harming the girl it possessed. What did *you* do?"
The woman spread her hands slowly, "I listened to the wisdom of the ancients. That demon had its place, and now it is removed. Who knows what trouble that fool caused by disrupting the natural order."
Amara thought of the knife on her belt, a tool first but a weapon in waiting always. It had sliced potatoes, lamb, chicken, and cow, but all of these were dead beforehand. If she "followed nature" and gave into her rage, she reckoned the hypocritical witch before her would deem it necessary to heal herself and retaliate.
Instead, she turned in disgust to depart.
"Where are you going?"
"To Mogan's smithy and then to the temple. I'm getting a spike of cold iron and blessings against magic."
"I told you! The fae are simply acting within their nature!"
"And when wolves kill our children, we cull them. They do not get to be both animals and people at once, Magda."
"This is foolish, woman! You would do better to birth a new child and be more careful this time."
Amara whirled about, drawing her trusted blade with grace she had never before possessed. It flew from her hand in the same motion, spiraling end over end. The witch flinched away, dodging the attack just in time to save herself, but not quickly enough to avoid losing half her hair's length and an equal portion of the charms she had bound to it.
"I will have blood, Magda, and if you warn your little fairy friends away, your blood will have to do instead." As Magda began chanting to call her magic, Amara reached behind her back for a knife that wasn't there. "Silence or I will throw again," she bluffed, "and I won't miss this time."
The witch ceased her incantation, but glared at her. "You will start a war..."
"I cannot start what has already begun," she growled before turning again and strode away, sure to mime moving her non-existent weapon to the front of her belt as she did.
The fae would soon meet the true force of nature they only pretended to be.
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The Guardian of the realm continued calmly with his gardening, while the red-eyed man entered his domain.
"I did the trials, I passed them all, I retrieved all the lost items.
Listen to me.", the man said, as he scattered countless relics, and books on the ground.
The Guardian looked up at the man and smiled.
Wiping his hands on his trousers, he pointed to the items, which then promptly disappeared.
"Thank you, little one.
Now, tell me, what is it that you desire.", the Guardian said.
The man gritted his teeth, and a trail of blood trickled down his chin.
"I want the Fae of the planet Mortensia dead!", he roared in a low voice.
"Oh, you reached godhood...travelled the entire realm, helped kingdom rise and helped Empires fall...
You rescued demons, and damned angels...
For this meager of a request?", the Guardian smilingly asked.
"Yes, now do it!
I've been told you are omnipotent in this realm you guard...
You can kill those pests completely!", the man roared.
The Guardian just shook his head.
"What? You can't?", the man asked, his fists clenched so tightly, the space around them was shivering.
"The Fae are spirits of Nature itself.
They are not evil, no more so than the tide or the wind.
They are not good nor evil, they simply are...
Bound by the workings of the realm itself, a Fae becomes less...immortal the moment it goes against the Ways of the World.", the Guardian said.
"THEY KILLED MY SON! WHAT NOT GOOD NOR EVIL?!
I COMPLETED YOUR QUESTS! DO MY BIDDING!", the man roared.
The Guardian just chuckled, and with that chuckle...the world shattered.
The man saw darkness deeper than the void engulf him, before an explosion of colors impossible to be described by words blew him into smithereens.
He was and wasn't, is but isn't, and will be but won't be.
He experienced everything and nothing, before he found himself once more in the domain of the Guardian, facing the gardener looking being.
"I...", the man muttered.
"Blinded by rage, you wish for the destruction of beings whom indeed, tricked your son, but nonetheless, your son accepted their deal...and lost.
Blinded by rage, you went on a rampage, and did the impossible...
Blinded by rage...you went and was rude to me...which I forgive don't worry...
But...blinded by rage, you just wasted your request on killing the killers, instead of reviving your son...
Sigh...so be it, the Fae of the Mortensia planet...are no more.
Farewell.", the Guardian said, as the man disappeared...while screaming in pain.
The Guardian shook his head, and went back to his gardening...there in the ground, swirls of stars and planets were growing...
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lf5o7lf
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lf5iuj3
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[WP] In a world where it is no longer trendy to have an ordinary human body, the kids are all flocking to get cybernetics. Your mom has banned you from getting any until you turn 18.
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"I sat at home, or with friends, and just watched.
Not having cybernetics was annoying at first, but then came the complaints, the malfunctions, the bugs, and the repairs.
My friends complained about how the repair technician chewed them out for being the 5th, 10th, or even 30th teen with the same problem they had that month.
I heard them talk about how the issues arose, and by the time I was 16, I could already tell when someone's cybernetics would malfunction due to their own recklessness. So, I interned at a local cybernetics shop, to learn how to fix them.
By the time I turned 18, I was known for having professional-level knowledge of cybernetics, and would help my friends avoid more serious damages.
And, having spent so much time listening to everyone talk about every brand, the costs, the risks, the damages, and the issues of maintaining them, I decided to just get a few smaller ones; nasal and ocular implants, a respirator in the wind pipe, and a literal thumb drive.
My friends assumed I did my repairs myself, and only went to the shop for routine maintenance, when in reality, their mistakes had taught me enough that the routine maintenance was enough to keep the implants running.
Nowadays, my friends have permanent issues from their malfunctioning cybernetics. The media claims that's a result of newly-developed technology that hit the market when I was younger. And while that is true, that is not the full truth. The reason is that teenagers flocked to get this new technology without really considering their options, and weighing the risks.
I have long since realized that that was why my mother banned me from getting cybernetics so early; impulse-buying them was too risky for me, and she thought an explanation was not necessary.
But, I am not my mother, so I am explaining this to you."
I looked at my son, who had saved up enough money to buy a Swiss Army hand, the new model that came with bear spray and a taser.
"Got it," my son said and put the money away again, "Thanks, dad."
A few years later, I softened the ban a tiny bit, by only 6 months, after my son had learned about the risks, which cybernetics he really needed, and how to maintain them.
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"Mom, please? Everyone at school has cybernetics!"
"If all of your friends were to jump off a bridge, would you?"
"Ugh, mom! That's so 2030!"
"We've talked about this, honey. You're not getting cybernetics until you turn eighteen."
"But Mom! I can't wait that long!"
"It's only a couple of years. You'll thank me later when you haven't made permanent changes to your body because you were young and stupid."
"Ugh!" *Scrolls through phone.* "Look at HarmlessAndriod, mom! She got a new cybernetic eye! It's all red, it looks so cool! Why can't I get that?"
*Sigh.* "There was a period, back in 2024, where I thought Tiktok would disappear. Yet here it is, infecting another generation with its toxic trends."
"Mom, you aren't even looking!"
"Look, Aera, I'm gonna be honest with you. This cybernetic thing is a trend, and who knows how long it will last? In a couple of years, people will be obsessing over some new thing. Just because cybernetics are trending on Tiktok now, doesn't mean they'll be trending in ten years. Do you remember when Stanleys were trending?"
"What are Stanleys?"
"Exactly."
"Mom, who cares how long the trend lasts? Everyone is getting cybernetics! If I don't get cybernetics, I'll be a total loser!"
"Sweetie, I'm not letting you make a permanent change to your body just because its trending. To be completely honest, I'm hoping that by the time you're eighteen, this cybernetic trend will have died and the internet will be obsessing over something else. If you turn eighteen and you still want cybernetics, fine. I won't stop you. But as your parent, it is my job to protect you. And that includes protecting you from changing your body so that other people will like you."
"Ugh! You never let me do what I want! I hate you!"
*Runs up to her room and slams the door.*
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jf42d6i
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jf4196x
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[WP] You know a shapeshifter replaced your significant other a while ago. You don't much care, though; the relationship's been far healthier since.
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Appearance is everything. That's the lesson my mother imparted upon me at the ripe old age of nine. It's also the same reason that, twelve years later, she married me off to one Dr. Robert Lestrade after she discovered I was bisexual and fell into a panicked state over the idea I'd end up marrying a woman. Needless to say, I don't talk much to my mother anymore.
Robert was a lot of things: a selfish partner, an emotionally unavailable rock of a man, a fool obsessed with status and moving up the social ladder. But those were all secondary to what he was first and foremost: a scientist. Robert routinely pushed the boundaries of modern technology to further humanity's ascension to the final frontier--with the expectation he'd be leading the charge, of course. He'd leave me and our twin girls, Tanya and Trina, alone for long swathes of time; some days, all he ever said to me was, "Not now Janet, I'm busy."
Then one day something changed. Robert came home after spending the night in his lab and offered to take us out for ice cream. I agreed with resignation; Robert would bring us out on excursions every so often to put up an appearance of being a good father that the tabloids would snap up. But there wasn't a single reporter to be found at the ice cream parlor, and the whole time Robert talked to me, actually *talked* to me, about my day and the work he'd been doing.
I clued in immediately that this wasn't the real Robert. Every little thing that the imposter did made it more and more obvious. The way they would stare out the window at the garden with delight when the real Robert was disgusted by even the butterflies. The obvious joy in their eyes when Tanya and Trina dragged him into their games of pretend when the real Robert only ever cared about the girls when report cards started getting handed out. The way they cared for me and made me feel good all over when the real Robert hadn't been intimate with me since the girls were born.
I was happy with the way things were, but my curiosity wouldn't let go. So one night, after the imposter had put the girls to bed, I confronted them and asked for the truth. After a few attempts at coming up with excuses, the imposter came clean, starting with shedding their disguise. Quite literally--they shed the form of Robert, revealing a strange, violet-blue humanoid body with a pair of red, slit-shaped eyes with no irises and three-fingered hands.
The imposter explained that they had crashed on Earth several years ago while on a journey of self-discovery, and were recently found by Robert, who quickly grew obsessed with the idea of being the first person to gain indisputable proof of extraterrestrial life. Robert locked the imposter away and experimented on them to find out what made them tick. But before long, the imposter couldn't handle Robert's experiments (or perhaps Robert in general) anymore, and they escaped early one morning. Robert, genius that he was, gave chase while it was still dark out, and ended up running off a cliff and clipping his head against a rock. With no other options, the imposter buried Robert's body where nobody would find it and took on his form.
After their explanation was finished, the imposter started to leave, but I stopped them. I explained how the past few months with them were more fulfilling than any length of time I'd spent with Robert, and they were more than welcome to stay. They accepted, but admitted to not liking the idea of having to be someone else for the rest of their life. Luckily, I had a solution.
Four years later, Dr. Eloise Lestrade was making headlines for her breakthrough in terraforming technology and getting science closer than ever before to faster-than-light travel, Tanya and Trina were excelling academically under the tutelage of their new mother, and Eloise and I were eagerly awaiting the birth of our son. And at that point, I finally saw a small pearl of wisdom in my mother's belief. Because if appearance is everything, then this life of mine that's every bit as loving and blissful as it appears on the surface is a true gift.
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Well it _was_ an idyllic morning. The sun was brightly shining through the window. I was wearing a very sexy apron over a dark blue lace negligee. Breakfast was nearly done - pseudo-bacon and lab-grown eggs, hot coffee and toast with lots of butter. Exactly how he liked it. And then the illusion was shattered.
"I know what you are. I know you're not my wife."
I look up quickly ... straight into the barrel of a flechette pistol. "Time for us to have a little talk, missy."
And then as my hand slowly shifted over the large kitchen knife "Stop that and listen up, you stupid bitch." My hand stilled. "And that's exactly why I've decided to keep you. Unlike my useless wife, _you_ actually listen."
"_Keep me?_" I quietly murmer.
"Yeah. You're exactly what I want. A nice little quiet and submissive wife. Doesn't hurt that your better in bed as well. I guess they train you shapeshifting spy types real good."
"_Submissive? That's ... not exactly how people would usually describe me._"
He smirks. "But that's exactly how you're going to have to behave, if you don't want your cover blown, Republican spy."
"_Unless I kill you._"
The pistol snaps back up. The idiot gets closer and stays making little jabbing motions with it. "Why do you think I waited until now to confront you? It took a while to organise a dead-man's data drop. If I don't log in every now and again, Comm-Sec is told all about you."
"_So you've known all along?_"
He smirked again. "From the very beginning. Her old man is a Gene Morph too, so I know what to look for." Man. I'm really getting to hate his smirk. "So. What did you do to her? Did yah kill the stupid bitch?"
"_She was ... removed._" I quietly murmer, looking up at the clock. Yes. Enough time had passed. "_And even if Comm-Sec is informed, I could quickly change my appearance and vanish into the population._"
His smirk gets even broader. "Except I have a friend coming over soon. With a Gene Tagger. Once that's used on you, Comm-Sec, and anyone else with the right equipment, will be able to track you down whenever they want."
I imperceptibly straighten. "_A Gene Tagger? That's Grand Republic technology. It's expressly forbidden in Federation Space. How does a Citizen get their hands on one of those?_"
He smiles broadly "Well maybe by him not really being a Citizen. My ... friend ... has lots of little ... toys he let's me use in return for useful information ... STOP GOING FOR THAT KNIFE!"
"_I'm not going for the knife._" I say, as my hand passes over the blade. I look up with amusement as I hear repeated clicking. "_I emptied that pistol last night after you feel asleep._" My hand flips open my purse, opens a hidden pouch and withdraws a gold and white ID card. I hold it up in front of his face.
"You ... you're Comm-Sec?"
"_Oh it gets better than that, sweetheart._" I remove my fingers from the ID's photo and shift to my birth form as I walk around the counter. My sashay turns into a saunter. My voice drops into a manly register. "_Long time no see, Frank._"
"YOU?"
"_Yup._" My voice shifts to a growl as I change to my favourite war form. I casually throw Frank face-first into the wall and pin him there. "_Now originally I had envisioned this becoming a discussion about how you've been treating my little girl, who ..._" I look up at the clock "_... should safely be with her mother at this point ..._"
I look back to Frank with a fang-filled smile on my face.
"_ But lucky me I've found a traitor and informer. So now I get to indulge in some government-sanctioned torture. Lucky lucky me._"
My war form's pharyngeal jaw nips his earlobe as I smell the little maggot piss himself. "_And just so you know. In my VERY well trained experience, you are without a doubt the WORST fuck I've ever had._"
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k65nflh
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k65bmfq
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[WP] You're a mostly forgotten god whose only believer is a ten-year-old girl. Every night she offers you a bit of her dinner or a shiny rock in exchange for her family surviving the night and every night you accept because she's never in danger Tonight, however, you actually have to work for it.
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Her tiny hands were joined together.
“Dear Cattle God, today my friend and I threw rocks in the river. I threw a rock but she came in between and got hit. I’m so sorry. She is safe now. But she cried a lot.”
She opened her eyes, took a small shiny pebble from her pocket and placed it on the window sill in front of her. She closed her eyes again.
“I knew you saved her Cattle God. You were there. I could feel it. Shishi was also there, did she tell you to come and save her? Mommy said if it had hit her head it’d be way worse. Please take this pebble as a thank you from me.”
A thunder rocked the wooden cottage.
“Please tell the Rain God to keep it down. It has been pouring a lot since the last few hours.”
She had now opened her eyes. She continued talking as she climbed her bed and unfolded the bed sheets.
“Nobody believes in you even when I tell them you take my gifts and listen to my wishes. They are not bad people but I really wished they would listen to me.”
A light flashed outside the window with a loud bang. The bolt had struck not too far from the house. She jumped up from the bed.
“Is it you Cattle God?”
“It’s me.” there was a shadow of someone standing outside her window.
She rushed to the window.
“You look so sad.”
“I’m not sad. That’s how my face is.” The Cattle God got conscious.
“You’re so big. Are you here to take my rock?” The girl slid open the window.
“I’m here to save you little girl.”
“I can’t, my mommy says I can’t be outside in the rain.”
“It’s going to flood soon and it will be a very bad flood.”
“Will it get in my house? Will there be a pool in my room?” Oh, what would she not give to have a pool in her own home? She could dive from the sofa, she could sit on the floor while her head bobbed in and out of the water.
“Little child. It’s not safe for you. Come outside, we'll go to your Aunt’s house.”
“You’re a God right? Can’t you stop the flood?”
Her innocent question shook him. For as long as he could remember he had not done any magic. He was unsure if he had any superpower. He was exceptionally good at guiding sheeps, but that was about it.
“I can’t. I can’t stop the rain like Indra, I can’t direct the wind like Vayu, I can’t slow the river like Varuna.”
“I bet you can do a lot of things. My mother says we all have special powers. Even I.”
A smile appeared on the god’s face.
“What’s your power little girl?”
“Well. I can make Gods appear.” She let out a shy giggle.
The God chuckled. The girl was curious, she asked,
“Why did you appear to me God?”
“Because you believed in me, little child.”
“If you believe in your powers, will they appear too?”
The God was taken aback by that, but a moment later he could sense a new energy igniting, the dejection inside him vanishing.
“You can do it, Cattle God. I trust you.”
The words felt magical to him. It was the first time someone believed in him and his powers.
The dogs were barking in the distance. The birds started flying, sprinkling the sky.
“Shishi!” The girl exclaimed when a calf came running from the bushes. Her tail and head showed how happy she was seeing both of them.
The God petted the calf, “My children, we have to unite!”
His voice echoed through the jungle.
There were rustling all around as cows, sheeps, goats, pigs and all different kinds of farm animals started appearing all around the house. They were organizing in a formation.
“Let’s show Indra what I, Daksha, and you, my children, are capable of!” The God addressed the growing gathering of various animals in the mud and the wet shrubs.
They started moving towards the river which had grown enormously in the last hour.
Some animals were digging, some were trying to fell the trees, yet the others were moving rocks to form a wall.
Large throngs of animals were still appearing from all directions, each animal knew exactly what to do.
“My children, this is for years of oppression we have faced by forces of nature!”
The water wouldn’t slow down. The turbulence had become fiercer and the walls of stones started collapsing and crashing.
The animals were determined and were not willing to stop. They were pushing and pulling, trying to create barriers of trees, rocks, sand, soil or whatever they could find. They had created several feet tall blockades around the river.
As soon as it looked like they had contained the water, the downpour seemed to start turning into a cloudburst. The water was flooding rapidly and it had started entering into the little girl’s house which was not far from the river.
A lot of animals had drowned, some had got trampled on, others were injured, but it didn’t dwindle the fierceness of those alive.
The situation had started to turn grim and it started to feel like Daksha had reached his limits. He closed his eyes trying to find some more power inside him.
The girl shouted from her window, “I love you God Daksha.”
Daksha opened his eyes. He kneeled and stretched his arm to touch the water. His finger created a white spot in the water that started to grow rapidly. The splashes of water started sounding heavier as it started to turn to milk. The milk wave was spreading rapidly upstream.
A teardrop formed in Daksha’s eye. It started trickling down his face. He hung his head to drop the tear into the water.
For a moment nothing happened, but then the milk all around suddenly became gooey and creamy. Curdles of milk started appearing as the animals rushed out of the milk river to safety. Soon the curdles started thickening and the flow of the liquid rapidly halted. The river had completely frozen and turned to cheese.
There were sounds of joy and tapping of feet all around. Calves jumped, piglets chased their tails, baby sheep rolled around and goats held their younglings from jumping on their siblings.
Daksha approached the window, finding an excited little girl clapping and celebrating.
“Thank you young girl, you believed in me. I’m not sure if I existed before you thought of me. I owe my powers to you.”
The young girl was very happy. Nobody had told her there was a cattle god. She hadn’t read it anywhere. She had just wished there was a cattle god. Who knows, maybe that thought alone created Daksha in the first place?
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Calaforgus had once been a mighty God, prayed to by many and revered by many more. His name had sparked fear in the hearts of men and there was little beyond his vast influence. Yet, history had forgotten his name. Civilizations had died and he hadn’t really thought about teaching his believers to write down his might and exploits and thus his power had waned. Nowadays he hung on by a sliver of zealous reverence by one ten year old girl. She brought him some food and pointless stones every day, but as long as those stones meant something to her, they meant something to him. He had never cared much for mortals other than what they provided him with, but his plight had instilled within him a certain sympathy for the one who still chose to pray to him, a forgotten God of old. In return he would protect her and her family. A task easy enough, as the most danger they ran into was hunger.
Today however, Calaforgus could feel something brewing beyond the horizon. He had almost forgotten what divine threat had felt like. The wars between Gods lay in the past ever since the Christian God had taken over everything. There were still rumors of deities more ancient than him lurking in the depths of space, but beyond an artifact here or there, nothing serious had ever occurred. Yet, deep within him stirred an unease. Something was coming and he knew it would be bad. What made it worse, that it was coming with a target. The little innocent ten year old girl and her family and Calaforgus had no idea why.
Just after dinner the girl had shown up by the menhir in the wood. As she did every evening she laid down the leftovers of her dinner and a shiny river pebble she had found earlier that day. She recited a prayer that only vaguely resembled the original, but it was enough to give him access to some of his powers. Calaforgus felt something else approach as well, just over the horizon, but it was coming fast. At first he thought it was just one of the lesser deities, but he had been mistaken. It was more than one and they were far from powerless. He didn’t recognize the divine energy, but he could feel it. Ancient, dangerous, evil and disturbing. It was more an amalgamation of dark energy, lashing out recklessly and unpredictable. Deities out to destroy and corrupt, but without a clear goal. Or maybe even worse, a goal beyond even his divine understanding. Why were they after the girl and her family, though?
With little time left Calaforgus made a decision. One he had never made before, but where he expected to find doubt, he found conviction. The decision was one of sacrifice. There was only one way to protect her and he owed her that. The first slivers of dark divine chaos lashed towards her and Calaforgus managed to deflect it with effort. It had slashed straight through his being. It wasn’t a wound, like a sword brought to a mortal being. Hurting a God happened on a more ethereal level. It was able to reach his existence. Gods don’t know fear, but the feeling that rose in Calaforgus was unfamiliar and heavily uncomfortable. He shook it off as best he could and clashed multiple more times with the various entities. Each hit tearing at him, weakening his control. If the girl had noticed, she didn’t show. She still stood motionless in front of the menhir, reciting her words.
Calaforgus was in tatters. He was there and aware, but where his being had once been strong, contained and radiating, he now was a loose cohesion of divine energy. He couldn’t hold on much longer this way, which meant that there was only one choice left. Gods were born with all their power already there. Access to that power however, was channeled through the amount of worship people gave them. For him that was barely a straw, with only one worshiper left. There was however an emergency button of sorts. In case something larger ever threatened reality. He could force access to all his power, by combining himself with it. He would dissolve his essence into the source. Taking control over every little drop of power, but ceasing to exist as an entity. It was suicide, but it would be the only way to fulfil his promise to the girl. He concentrated on the flow between his being and the well. Slowly bits of his own divine energy started flowing backwards into the opening. He felt his life energy - for lack of a better word - leaving him. The feeling of raw power felt intoxicating, but wrong at the same time. He would turn into a divine nuclear bomb, as uncontrolled as the chaotic evil entities slamming against his failing barriers. The first slivers of darkness broke through and stabbed his core. The girl started noticing the change. A single drop of blood dripped down her cheek. He would need to do this fast and decisively. Only one chance. His last essence dissolved into the roiling mass of raw power.
A massive bright radiating light filled the sky. It was so bright and so powerful it broke through into the real world as well. The girls stared up at a sudden aura in the sky, brighter than the sun at noon. The dark and ancient deities stopped their assaults as they unmistakably felt what was coming. Calaforgus didn’t know why they were after the girl and her family, but he knew that they would regret trying. The maelstrom of light and energy imploded suddenly. Not with a deafening sound, or massive shockwaves. Instead it sent a circular blade through the darkness in complete and utter silence. A silence only heard before creation. An absence of anything and everything. As the light subsided all entities were gone.
In the woods in front of a giant menhir stood a girl. She crouched and laid her hand upon the stone and whispered words of gratitude.
\---
Thank you for reading! If you liked my story I invite you over to r/zeekoeswriting for more of them. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments!
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kb58dmh
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kb4kiia
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[WP] You are a god with no followers nor enemies, yet you still persist. No god had ever lived without worship before. The other gods are stumped as to why this is so...until you tell them what you are the god of.
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His long green hair suggested the natural world, or perhaps some little part thereof, but he dismissed that with a chuckle and a wave of his hand. When children brought him flowers and leaves, he accepted them gently, but then put them aside the moment they turned round. Some of the adults thought he might be a god of performance, since he always wandered by the city games, or perhaps he oversaw gambling or play or some other such thing. No amount of money sat well with him, though he accepted it with amusement, then promply handed it to the nearest person.
Charity, perhaps? Humility? He gave away all his gifts. And yet, alms didn't capture his heart.
Finally, we gave up trying to determine his nature and watched him abide with us over generations. He never offered his power, but he never took from us, either. The priests couldn't place him, and neither could the archivists, so there he was, unnamed and unregarded. The city changed leaders, and changed tribes once or twice, but he never changed at all.
It had to be something awful, a few of us decided. Maybe he was tarred with a heinous domain? Something like slaughter? But we knew the god of battle and the god of the farms and abattoirs. Criminals didn't flock to him, either. He looked so peaceful, and he never harmed anyone, and he merely wandered through our gatherings and down our streets and coexisted.
War came when he was still among us, and he did nothing to help nor harm either side. Such is the way of gods, uncaring until properly invoked? Still, his presence was a constant, a rock, something that we could cling to as simply an unchanging fact. There is comfort in stability...perhaps that was his role.
The war subsided into our loss, and the Ilurian Empire took over, posting their guards at our street corners and forcing us to pay tribute to the governor assigned over our region. Our rebels plotted, our citizens quietly sneered, and quiet resentment took root.
He was there when the first rock flew.
It was such a stupid little thing, a kid flinging a stone at a guard's face as he marched out of his barracks. The bruise on the guard's brow was nothing compared to the beating he laid on the child's back, pinning him with a foot between the shoulder blades, hurling down the cat o' nine tails with impunity. Blood stained the street. The boy crawled away in pain.
A smile tweaked the corners of his lips.
Riots burst like flames from the smoldering ash of the war's remains. Soldiers kicked in doors to find revolutionaries, dragging them into the street and sometimes beheading them right there and then. Rebels set fire to the barracks, killing a dozen men and half-strangling more.
He was there when the gallows went up, and when they burned down, and when the Imperial Cavalry arrived, and when the horses were poisoned. Everywhere we fought, he was there. Everywhere we were slain, he was there.
Chaos, then? Our last priest fell to his knees at the quiet god's feet. "Please, tell us why," he begged. "Is this your doing? Did you want to see us burn? Can't you help us? Does our death please you?"
He shrugged, his smile deepening. "No, it does not."
"Then save us!"
"I will not."
"But why? Please! What can we do for you? What sustains you, that you stay here but don't ask for anything?"
The curfew bells rang, and the guards herded people into their homes, and the green-haired god laid a hand on the priest's shoulder and guided him back into the chapel before they could be seen.
"Not all gods require faith," he said, lighting a candle and pressing it into the priest's shaking hands. "I survive merely by your actions. I don't need worship. You worship me by *being human.*"
Skittering behind him like a nervous cat, the priest clutched the candle close. "So you're a god of...people?"
For a long time, the green-haired god sat next to the altar and tilted his head, listening to the guards yell and the people snip and snap in return. When finally the doors had closed and peace reigned again, he took a long breath and sighed, as if letting out the energy of the day's events.
"I survive by that most fundamental human thing: that which separates you from each other."
"Hate?"
"Hm. No, not quite." He brought a hand to his smooth chin, and his eyes lit a jealous, venomous, acerbic green. "I suppose I am the god of *tribalism.*"
The priest shielded his candle as if a cold wind had blown through.
"Yes. I am Virion, the god of tribal belief. The concept that some of you are better than others, and that you will fight to prove it. That you will compete with each other. That the outside is evil, and the inside is good, or perhaps that the inside is your friend, and the outside your foe."
"So you're the god of groups of people just...*slaughtering* each other? Racism? Wars of ideology? What?"
"Oh, no, no." Virion took the candle gently and lit a brazier, offering brighter and more stable glow. "I am also there when you play games. When you fight team against team, for good or for ill. When iron sharpens iron, I'm there too. You simply see the worst of competition and tribal conflict in war."
"And you don't need followers, because--"
"Because," he interrupted, "you *cannot* separate this from yourselves. Were it not for me, you would be lone wolves scrabbling in the dirt for your next meal. Cooperation is all there is. Competition is a natural result."
"Then can you please take away your nature from us? Do the gods have to see us as nothing but some...some dog and pony show? Do we amuse you too much for you to withdraw your influence?"
"You would kill me?"
The priest jerked back and fell silent.
Virion laughed lightly, though it had a grating hoarseness now. "Many have tried, but you could sooner sever your own nature than kill me. After all, I remember my birth. You came before me. You are why I exist. I merely perpetuate your own being. You sustain me."
Thin lips moved quietly as the priest contemplated his options.
"You may try, if you want." Virion bent his head toward a sacrificial knife, resting in its bronze sheath next to the altar. "Cut my throat, little human. Save your species from itself."
Whatever he did that night, the next day, Virion was back with us all as the city rose with the sun, ate breakfast under the eyes of the Ilurian Guard, and went about their business. When asked about the gash on his neck, he merely said, "These things happen. I'm quite all right."
The priest, though, left his chapel that day, and we have never seen him enter again. When pressed, he murmurs that his faith has never returned. He has a certain hatred for the gods now...and I believe that I, at least, know why.
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The High Pantheos are assembling. There are ever so many gods and ever so many things to be a god of. They quarrel with each other constantly like celebrities and compete with each other for attention like influencers all with one goal, one purpose, to be worshiped.
You see, that’s what sustains us, the Panthekir, the “gods” of the universe. Really we’re what you humans would call interdimensional telepathic multi-forms. “Monsters” if you’re feeling cheeky. “Aliens” if we tunnel across one of your borders…which we aren’t going to do…because we have spaceships. I guess you’d call us “aliens” if we pulled up in one of those too, but it’s beside the point.
The HP is a figuratively fluid body of Panthekir who have achieved the greatest number and/or most fervent believers. Each time someone calls any of the dozen or so names each of us is allowed to go by per world we invest in, the corresponding Panthekir racks up glory points. Temples provide a huge boost, especially if it's used daily.
Some, like the one you’d call Pan, god of the natural untainted world, is still around but faded away as peoples across the universe increasingly favor the one your stories call Hephaestus, god of forges, technology, and industry.
Indeed Hephaestus has nearly overtaken the one you call Zeus, though you speak of him as Odin, Wodin, and God with a capital G sometimes. He is the god of wisdom and creativity which are held in high esteem across known space and time.
Like I was saying, there are ever so many Panthekir, a whole species actually, and sometimes one slips through cracks, goes unnoticed for millennia. That one is me, and I’m currently in shackles being tried by the High Pantheos as a traitor.
Why? Because they found that I have exactly 0 followers. No one howls my name into the dark night when wolves are closing in. No one calls on me when their computer screen freezes or they need advice or they want a girl to fall in love with them or at least give them a bj. No one, and yet I exist.
They’re also wondering how such heavily charged and powerful beings such as themselves could’ve missed my presence for literally ten thousand years.
“Mirabald Envestis,” Enwaric (our name for Odin) used my real name as well, “You are here to answer for the crime of walking amongst the gods while you are not a god. How do you plead?”
“How do you know that I am not one of you?” I answer.
Enwaric looked left and right at the assembled HP then turned back to me, “You have no followers. I don’t see a single name calling you in your entire existence. You must be a leech, a parasite posing as one of us and feeding off our following.”
“Not guilty,” I reply.
The High Pantheos laughed uproariously at this. I knew what they were doing. Like I said earlier, Panthekir sustain themselves with the attention of the various terrestrial species of the universe. They do the same with their own kind. This whole trial was their version of Judge Judy. Justice for entertainment. Their conclusion was foregone. “Justice” was a foreign concept to all but Athena, who looked mulish, but remained silent. Clearly she’d been overruled by Enwaric.
I’ll give them something to entertain themselves with.
“Oh by the way, how is Nela?”
Enwaric’s head, which was thrown back in a laugh, suddenly snapped down and fixed me with a look of surprise and horror. It was gone a fraction of a second too late. One of the other Panthekir, who by the way, had all adopted the human form since they liked it best, looked over and glared at him.
I smiled. Hera was not the goddess of Jealousy, that was Aphrodite’s job, but my god Hera could still FEEL the emotion and was putting it out in waves right now.
“Who’s Nela?” She demanded of Enwaric.
“Oh uhh, no one, she’s no one. I don’t know what Mirabald is talking about.”
Hera’s eyes were simmering with heat, “Oh I know, you’re on one of your nymph benders again.”
“Am not!”
“Are too! Ohhhh, just you wait until I get my hands on that little whore!”
The two gods battled back and forth with words, and I flicked my eyes to the right. My plan was working. Teasing the great ones is an incredibly rewarding pass time. They fell on Aphrodite. She was giddily looking at her score on a holopad. She could never match the sheer breadth of Enwaric’s influence, but cat fights between gods, especially highly public ones like this, gave her huge boosts.
Aphrodite was the only god who knew what I was, mostly because we’re so similar, but also because she’s the only one I ever told. She captures the essence of my desire and our energies work well with each other. Call us partners in diversion.
I told you we are multi-forms, right? Who do you think Nela really is?
Think about it, haha.
What time is it? Can you check your phone for me?
Oooh! Look at that, that person who left you on read yesterday finally texted you back. Ask them out!
But first, pop open that notification that just dropped from the top of your screen. It’s probably reddit letting you know about something SUPER important. IMPERATIVE, actually, that you click on it right now and give your anonymous opinion.
Man, you just death scrolled for fucking two hours, shame on you. But hey, there’s a simple solution. Get an analogue wrist watch. If you’re checking your wrist for the time it’ll be so much easier to stay off your phone.
Why don’t you pop open your amazon app and shop for a good one at a great price?
Oops, it’s been another two hours and now you’ve gotta spend another two sorting through all the cyber monday crap you popped in there but can’t afford.
Haha, poor person. Maybe you should pull up indeed and go through another depressing three or four months looking for a better job.
Bling! Somebody on a youtube ads wants to offer you an opportunity to make millions in three months.
It’ll go great, I promise. Just don’t call on my name or you’ll never get there.
Can you guess who I am?
\---------------------------------------------
check out r/inspiredshortstories for more!
Novel is publishing to [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/AlaricStargazer) in 2-3 parts daily!
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k5zwa5v
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k5xwqpe
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[WP] You have 24 hours to hide a flash drive, you can hide it anywhere but near limitless resources will be used to try and find it over the course of the next few weeks and if you fail, you die. If the flash drive is damaged from hiding it, you die.
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Let's see, a flash drive. It's pretty small and made of durable plastic, but I don't think I can just toss it into a lake without putting it inside some protective casing. Also, assuming that I'm supposed to be able to retrieve this thing, just hurling to the bottom of Lake Ontario is not an option.
It's raining to beat hell right now, and winter is on the way. I think that would be ideal for just burying it somewhere in the woods and covering my tracks. Even if they search it, this thing doesn't have enough metal to set off a metal detector. There's no proxy technology that can find this thing. So whoever is looking for it would have to have some highly advanced ground radar and someone who is a super tracker to have a chance in finding it.
So I go into the woods, leave my phone at home because it's going to have a reference to where I've been. Bring a compass. I got an engineer's compass. I should go somewhere I'm at least a little familiar with so I have a chance of finding this thing again. If I got 24 hours I'm assuming that means I have 24 hours where I am not being observed. I should take my bicycle, the car might have an anti-theft tracking system. Aside from the flash drive, bring nothing digital. Analogue the whole trip.
A few miles off the beaten path should be enough. Do not bury the device right next to a landmark. Choose a landmark, pick a random direction using the compass as a reference, then pick a random distance from it.
*Memorize* the location. Do ***not*** write it down. Wrap the device up in some plastic to protect it from the elements. Do not dig a giant hole. A huge amount of disturbed dirt is a big giveaway. A few inches down, just enough to protect it from the elements should be enough. There's a shitload of leaves coming down right now, it should do a good job of covering up a small burial site.
Other than that, just hope whoever looks for it doesn't resort to torture.
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A flash drive? *Lucas asked, confused as to what the flash drive had to do with him* What do you want me to do with this? I’m not sure I understand. *As quickly as they had appeared, the person who handed Lucas the flash drive was gone, a single piece of paper left in their place.* Wha-…. What the fuck? *Lucas picks up the piece of paper, and the writing on it follows; [You have 24 hours to hide this flash drive, it can be anywhere, but, if the flash drive is even slightly damaged you’re dead. An almost limitless amount of resources will be used to try and find it. DON’T even think about trying to find out what’s on it.] Once Lucas had finished reading the note, it simply vanished into thin air.*
*Lucas was speechless, unable to comprehend what he had just read* What am I supposed to do now?! *Lucas shouted into the air, mad, but also slightly curious.* {Some backstory for y’all} *Lucas works as a lousy software engineer, and doesn’t pay too much attention to his job. He lives in a modest single bedroom apartment, and mostly keeps to himself. He has few friends, and doesn’t go out much, all his past relationships ended horribly, and Lucas is starting to become lonelier and lonelier.*
*The person had seemingly just appeared in Lucas’s apartment, and Lucas was baffled as to how they appeared to just disappear into thin air.* Well… what do I do now? This surely has to be some kind of prank or something…right? *Lucas thought, starting to doubt himself.* *Lucas walked over to his desk, and plugged the hard drive in, not caring about the “Don’t look” rule the mysterious figure had given him* Alright, now to see what’s o- WHAT THE FUCK?
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lebwg3y
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leaolt6
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[WP] You made a deal with an ancient demon with the cost being your firstborn son being taken. You've given birth several times so far, and all of them have been girls. The demon is getting more and more annoyed with this.
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I watched, as everyone around me froze.
It was the birthday of my 8th daughter, little Lily, she was turning 10, so we wanted to make a big party.
Now, a man in a red suit, black tie, and a ridiculous red, round sunglasses walked up to me.
He pointed towards my family.
"You think it's funny?", he growled.
I shrugged.
"You think I can control it?", I rolled my eyes, and poured some punch for him.
He took it, thanked me, and drank.
"Listen up, woman.
We had a deal, happiness, health and strength in exchange...", he started.
"My firstborn son. SON.
I had 8 daughters as of now, and frankly, no matter how good the sex is, I am done with having kids.", I said.
He stared at me, and shook his head.
"That's why I am here.
You can't give up, otherwise I will end up losing!", he said.
I shrugged.
"Shrug? You shrug?
Do you know I feel every single time you get pregnant?", he said.
"Eww, gross.", I said.
"Yeah...
And imagine my reaction when every single fucking time it's a girl that is born?
Again and again?
Being aware of how you humans don't really want 10+ kids in these modern times, knowing that soon...I will completely lose the chance of having the deal honored?", he roared at me.
Again, I just shrugged.
He roared, and flipped a table...which now was floating slowly, and gently in the air.
I took the table, and put it nicely back in its place.
"The deal was goddamn clear, demon.
Firstborn son.
There was no clause that said: "You shall get pregnant as many times as you need, for a son to be born".
If I wanted, I could have gone childless, and it would have been within the terms of the deal.", I said.
"That's why I threw your goddamn soulmate at you!
I knew you couldn't resist him!", he roared.
"Oh, you did that?
Thanks!", I said, which made him angrier.
He roared, as the earth split in two, and he disappeared.
Time returned, and I watched as the kids had fun.
Watching them smile, and hearing their little giggles...made me want another one....
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CW: >!Transphobia, abandonment!<
Sigil just right, offerings in place... Time to fulfill a bargain. David chanted the demonic tongue, fear and brimstone swelling with every repetition. The sixth brought a flash of sulfur, and a surprised-looking demoness. A naked one. "Hey, fuc... You!?"
"Me," David replied coolly. "Here to complete my end of the bargain we made fourteen years ago."
The demon - he refused to utter her name except in the chant of summoning - flared some clothes into being. "Your wife's not pregnant. You have five daughters. Why am I here? Got better things to do than catch up with boorish people."
He ignored the glare. "I have five daughters. *She* doesn't agree." David reached behind him, pulling his eldest daughter, aged 9, into view. She stumbled, and ripped her arm out of his hand, but he grabbed her by the shoulder and squeezed. "Says she's a boy. That would make her..."
"Your firstborn son. Yes. A bargain for fertility made, a bargain for fertility kept. I will be taking him." The child disappeared and reappeared inside the summoning circle. "What's your name?"
"Her name's Alice." "Don' 'ave one."
"Well, sweetie, my name's Lily, and we'll figure out a name for you. We've got a whole book of names. That sound good?"
"Y... Yeah," the deluded girl said weakly.
"Great! Now, I'll be along in just a moment. I need to... Talk with David Joseph Daniels here."
Chains of fire and ice gripped David's heart.
-/-/-
Always fun when you read a prompt just before bed and inspiration just hard strikes. David can go suck an egg, though. (Or worse. Lily can probably do worse.)
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llgkyye
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llg5yp5
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[WP] All children under the age of 13 vanishes with only a note left behind that says "Due to humans not caring about the future of their young, all children have been relocated. If you truly love (Name), you will not intervene as we restart your race. -Signed 'The Protectors'"
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We called them the "Lost Generation". A whole cohort of children from newborns to the earliest teenagers, vanished by some extraterrestrial race. First was the grief, and the horror; then came the pure, white-hot rage. Capitalism and religion crumbled under the weight of collective trauma, the United Nations growing in scope and authority as regressive religions and billionaires were crushed under the weight of a humanity that had been permanently scarred. Our greatest minds looked both at the earth and the stars for any telltale signs of where these supposed 'Protectors' had taken our *Lost Generation*, but such a search was nigh fruitless.
However, whatever had taken a chunk of humanity had not accounted for the stubborn resilience of humanity; instead of a mass aversion to children, humanity began anew with another burgeoning young generation; protected and monitored at all times, taught to the utmost not only to be the brightest generation, but the most careful and vigilant. Science, ruthlessly persued to prepare for the presumed return of these 'Protectors', reversed many of the worst effects of Climate Change, while driving the development of even more devastating weapons and defensive technologies to protect Mother Earth. We had buried the *Lost Generation* as one would the dead, but we had not forgotten; for a majority of United Earth, whatever came back with the xeno menace that loomed in the stars wouldn't be welcome.
The United Earth Armed Forces had captured a scouting ship outside of Titan in 2204; inside, a pair of disgusting xenos that we realized belonged to the 'Protectors' race were found. Their little ship was a goldmine of valuable data, though the xenos stubbornly refused to reveal what had happened to the *Lost Generation.* Reverse engineering their sensor suites and stasis technology pushed our reach farther than ever before, and soon our own scouts began the search for the xeno race that had scarred us. We would find them, and avenge our Lost.
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It has been two days since my world collapsed. They took them both, Charlie and Mindy.
I have not slept. The first few hours I spent driving around, looking everywhere out of my Truck. Their school - abondoned and quiet halls of concrete now only inhabited by pointless teachers. But they too, were nowhere to be seen. Their favourite playground, now with only junkies and teenagers. The audacity that I have to deal with them, now, of all the times. I kept searching, as any good parent would. But then. Then the proclamation came over the news…
My babies, taken from me. Ripped away from their parents. And who the hell are these protectors? I have never heard of them, they have to be some kind of new subgroup. But they have to work for *them*. They have half the country in their thrall, and they have got to be responsible for this too. And they will blame us, like they always do.
I came home a day ago now, and I’m just more angry. They blame us! That we don’t care! How dare they! They will pay and we will get our children back. We have gone too easy, allowed too much. We were too tolerant, but always told what we did was wrong. No more of this, we can be firm too.
The war will come. Us against them. For the fate of our children. They claim the protectors are amongst us, but we don’t have our kids. It’s mind boggling how they think we would fall for their lies.
Weeks later, the war was raging. That’s when they came. Messages, videos of our children, in what looked to be a place full of plants and hills. Water they told us the answer to the question we never thought to ask… that they were ok.
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jbfdpa3
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jbfbmri
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[WP] You are 1 out of 50 people who participated in a human trial study for an "intelligence serum" that was supposed to boost IQ and other various intellectual parts of your brain. You are the only one who hasn't gone insane.
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"They took down Carlos this morning."
"Damn. Looks like that tontine's mine."
"You guys had a Death Pool going?"
"It seemed like a good idea, after Angela ate her own face off. I don't know who started it. Probably Hannah. We all made each other the inheritors of our life insurance policies and left each other everything in our wills. . . last one standing collects it all."
"You know tontines are illegal, right?"
". . . you remember who you're talking to, right? Smartest sane person in the world? IRS won't ever find out."
"I don't know, some of those auditors are relentless. . ."
"Then when I get caught, I'll go to prison and give back the money. Doesn't make a difference to me. Not like I need the money anyway. What good is money in hell?"
". . ."
"Change of subject. Did Carlos leave a note or anything?"
"Yeah. The same type of note the others did. Long rant about seeing everything, understanding everything, not being able to stand it, wanting everything to stop. . . hoping for a bit of peace and quiet after he dies. Same as the others."
"That tracks. Matches my experiences, yeah. The problem with being the smartest sane person in the world is that once you realize what's actually going on, you can't. . . exactly ignore it any more. And that serum you've given us. . . increases cerebral activity. . . feels like I'm running a constant hamster wheel that can't ever stop."
"Have you given any thought as to why you haven't gone insane too?"
"Well. . . there's the rub. How do I know I'm not insane? I mean, I feel sane, but am I really? If you think about it, I'm continuing to exist in this hell of a brain you've put me in even after everyone else has checked out. Maybe I've got a masochistic side. Maybe I just decided years ago, after my wife took the kids, that if I've got a choice between being sane and dead and insane and alive, that I'd rather be the latter. Maybe it's because I've come to the realization that I'm not in charge of my own brain any more. My brain's the big wave, I'm just the surfer trying not to wipe out. I fight the wave, and I die. I let it carry me, and I live. Maybe the others just couldn't accept that they weren't in charge of their own brains any more. Couldn't ride the wave."
". . ."
". . . or maybe it's the weed. I'm up to 500 mg of edibles a day."
"Holy fuck."
"I've gained 50 pounds in the past year. I'm very tired."
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We were supposed to be improved, all of us. But that's not what happened. To a one, we are all worse. When we signed up for this test, we were picked out of poverty. I had been arrested for being asleep in my car in a public lot when my house burned down, and then for arguing with the cops. The experiment was supposed to provide housing, for six months, at least, and my parking fines. So this seemed like a no-brainer, if you'll excuse the pun. A place to live, and an IQ boost? Sign me the fuck up.
We took an injection every week for six weeks. At first, the signs were good. Jones, the messy guy, started taking care of himself; he even picked up his toothbrush and started brushing. Alex, the woman who could not walk through a room without banging her foot on something, started looking at where her feet were actually going. We were all a little sharper, a little more focused. Lars started listening when you were talking. Our internal sense of time got better, and our external sense of awareness did, too, week by week.
But then things started going wrong about week five. Alex, who had previously started noticing the obstacles in her path, also started seeing things the rest of us could not see, and babbled incoherently about them at anyone who would listen. Things like pillars in the middle of the room. She still avoided tables, but she avoided the invisible objects, too; and she'd yell at you if you stepped "onto" one. Jones got obsessive about hygiene. He kept thinking he could never get clean after a lifetime of being lazy about it, and acted like he had to catch up. He'd wash his hands every hour, couldn't touch other people anymore. Lars had such deep depression that they couldn't drag themselves out of bed; the staff psychiatrist couldn't get them to explain why, but I think it's because they started noticing how fucked the world is.
Me? I'm fine. I just gotta go rearrange my belongings again, make sure they're still there. Totally fine... I will be after I finish.
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jbdn45b
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jbd69ym
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[WP] The elven children have a ceremony to summon their spirit animals. Most get unicorns, phoenixes, fire salamanders etc. One kid ends up summoning a human, smoking a cigar and sporting a hefty shotgun.
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In the olden ages, summoning a spirit was a ceremony to determine one's future. Our people's occupation, free time activities and even love life used to be heavily affected by the sacred spirits - familiars.
This age, however, is called the dark age. Half of the northern Nirnolan forest, Elvish homeland, is burning forever, haunted by the dark armies of the demon king. A familiar is no longer an extension of one's soul and life but instead a weapon to combat the ever-charging invaders. Our long-lived people's current life expentancy barely exceeds adulthood at 30 years, at which age a familiar can be summoned and an Elf can join the most vile, brutal war in history, where invaders from another world are commiting genocide on all species of this land to bring hell here and expand their power.
My name is Malvidius, and today I turned 30. I am a Wood Elf. My race of people is known to be better suited to guerilla combat thanks to our ability to blend with trees and foliage and our sight being adapted perfectly to such environment. I am terrible with a bow, my magic starts and ends at the most basic of telekinetics and I am a frail tiny man that can't even use a sword properly. This makes my familiar make no sense at all, because the way I see it, those are supposed to reflect us and our souls somehow.
So why then, when I drew the conjuration sigil and performed the ritual guided by the moon, instead of blue gentle light and a spirit of a rabbit or other rodent emerging, a bright red portal that looked like the gates of hell ramming open flared and a being stepped out almost twice as tall as me? With a green, insect-like carapace that I assume it wears as armor covered in red, demonic sigils and on its head a helmet of the very same carapace and a glass window, like a house would have, placed in the middle, cracked and with a strange stick as if made from paper and horrid smell of burn glowing bright orange at the end. Underneath a seemingly elven face forever bound to an angered expression of vengeful wrath. The being wields a strange staff that looks like two metal staves with holes hollowed out in their middle connected to a wooden frame.
As it emerged, I had little time to observe its form before it grabbed me by the ceremonial robe and pulled me closer to closely analyse me. Afterwards, somewhat dissapointed, dropping me on the ground. I scrambled to sit while it- he looked around, taking in the new environment he happened into.
"E-excuse me-" I asked, causing him to slowly turn his head towards me, radiating malice. "-a-re you by chance my... familiar?"
The being tilted its head slightly, but then, he grasped his staff tighter and muttered. "Demons... Want to kill demons..." This scared me, but also gave me some sort of assurance in that he was on our side at least. His continuing words were perhaps worrying, but also made me think that maybe this man could single handedly win our most terrible war yet. "Rip and tear... until it is done."
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The teacher had left him alone she didn't say he was in trouble, but he knew that look. That was look Fa'bei'on got when he did something un elf like. She was probably sending a letter to his parents now. He was going to hear about this mishap for ages.
And it wasn't his fault he didn't write the stupid spell that picks out friendship companions. well it was a little his fault. He didn't want a unicorn because he didn't want to braid hair, birds always pooped on him, and lizards skin peeling off always Creeped him out.
But there was thousands and thousands of other things that should have come instead. Like a fire puppy or a kitty with wings. He would have been happy with a plain old fashioned otter.
He was so lost in his own head that the door opening nearly had a him fall out his chair.
It was Ms Summerfall Shadow Wind of spring.
The GuidanceGuidance teacher.
His day couldn't get worse.
"Círdan. I am here for a little talk. You aren't in any trouble. " She gracefully sat down. "Círdan" she took a long deep breath that looked like she was finding the right words. She seamed to settle on an approach. Then locked eyes with the young student.
"You know you can't fuck this companion right? You know its just magic shaped like a human. It will talk act and behave like a human untill it stubs its toe too hard . Then it will just poof away. " She rolled her wrist in the air. "Then when you summon another. It will be different one that answers the call untill it knocks it head against a door frame and that one poofs away. So On and on and on." She seemed oblivious to the shade of red Círdan was turning. "And while it extremely impressive you managed to summoned a complex creature such as a human. And we are aware children your age start having urges. It is illegal to have sex with illusions, summons as well as conjured creatures.
And if you are found to even attempt such and act you will have your magic Bound"
Círdan after what felt like a year and as red he was since she started he had to admit what he really wanted at the summon. "Ms Summerfall Shadow Wind of Spring, I wanted something that would permanently get me out of archery classes. It's my worst class I keep pulling the string across my arm. I was sick of it. So I thought I ask ask for , something loud, annoying to others. And make archery class redundant."
The Guidance teacher gave him a long long look over. With a deep breath she stood. "Sure you summoned a human. To avoid a class if that's the case you will have no problem explaining that to your parents, after they get our letter explaining we gave you the magic summons talk."
Círdan sighed his day got worse.
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j53l5en
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j53kttr
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[WP] You are the only S-Class (god-like) mutant at a school of super powered youngsters. Only the head master knows, and you try like hell to keep it a secret. But one day, that all changed...
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To most of the public, the S-Class are the elite of the elite. The strongest heroes and most feared villains. But while most powerful young A and even B tier mutants get publicity equal to a Hollywood star, no one has ever seen a child S-Class. This has understandably led to various conspiracies ranging from the S-Class being biologically engineered by the government to them being aliens from a destroyed planet.
As an S-Class myself I can firmly say that's false, unless my dad meant something different when he said it was time for the talk. Anyway, the thing about S-Class is that unlike other mutants we don't have a set level of power. For instance, an F-Class pyrotechnic can only light up a candle or boil water at best while an A-Class can create fire swords hot enough to cut steal like butter. Meanwhile an S-Class mutant might not even be able to make a glass of water lukewarm or they could burn down an entire city based solely on how much blue they've seen that day. All S-Class mutations have a paranormal factor controlling every aspect of the ability from raw power to skill. That's the reason we keep ourselves hidden, for fear that if the truth comes out everyone would go out of their way to find and exploit our weaknesses.
This is why the government personally issues us false class rankings based on how much control we have over our abilities. Once we finish high school we get ranked by a judge and given a rank equivalent to a normal class unless we go beyond to which we receive the right to say we're S-class. Personally, I'd like to avoid that burden.
I guess I should explain my ability first. My mutation is known as Genie. It allows me to request three abilities every day which each come with a related weakness. For instance I could wish for fire breath but in turn I'd melt if I got hit by water. Or I could ask for invisibility but I'd become blind. Currently, I've found three abilities that work best for me.
1. Ability: Echolocation, Weakness: Blindness
2. Ability: Flight, Weakness: Paralyzed legs
3. Ability: Sonic Scream, Weakness: Can't lower my voice.
These three abilities put my firmly in the bottom of B-Class at my high school. I'm strong enough not to get picked on by A-Class bullies but also weak enough that no one makes me join their club. It's pretty sweet.
"Sup bat boy!" Anne calls out.
"It's The Human Bat" I sign.
Anne is near the top of B rank who I'd generally avoid but she's one of the only kids in the school who understands sign language so what can you do? Her ability Raptor gives her all the powers of a bird of prey such as super flight, talons, enhanced eyesight, and super kicks. She plans to debut as Owl Lass and offered me the chance to become her sidekick which I gladly accepted.
"Ready for the mock battle Andrew." She continues. "Those A-Class brats won't know what hit them."
"An over confidant pigeon and a flying mouse" Gale shot back with a gust of wind, hearing Anne's remark as she walked by.
"Well excuse you. I'm an owl thank you very much. Over confidant pigeons are what I have for breakfast."
"Yeah yeah. No one asked for the taxonomy lesson. Just know the skies will be ours during the battle" Steven replies.
"Is every flying mutant in this hall way?" I sign.
"Uh, you should watch out for us too." Pedro intervenes, two other C-Class flyers behind him.
"Looks like it." Anne signs back smirking.
"Ok enough everyone." Leyla shouts from the ceiling she's walking on. We'll all see who rules the skies tomorrow.
None of us knew how right she was that day. Sadly, it wasn't the only thing we learned.
Part 2 coming soon.
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All falling apart.
Declan could see it all falling apart. It was supposed to be different here, quiet, an unassuming way to be educated and contained. Hell, he hadn't had a fit in years, even before he'd arrived at Heuward Academics. And now it was all falling apart.
*"Hello, young'un. You would join our Academy?"*
*Declan nodded. He tried not to talk. His voice always seemed so strangely disconnected from the rest of his self - a tool that he held in his hand, picked up when needed, but otherwise alien. It seemed so incongruent with the sheer force he held - a child's voice, hiding the power of eternities. A nod or shake of the head usually sufficed, and if not, Declan had mastered the art of minimal communication.*
*It had unsettled the children in public school, but maybe here, where everyone was strange, no one was.*
*"Well, then, young'un, you know this is an academy for the supernaturally gifted, yes?" At Declan's nod, he continued, "well, then, young'un, what can you do?"*
*Declan took a moment, cocking his head to the side as he thought. A good question. What* could *he do? A very good question indeed. He righted his head, looked Sir Reginald Heuward in the eyes. "Anything, sir."*
*A false hope. It had been a false hope. Perhaps here in the land of the strange it was even worse when you were the strangest, but reason regardless, it had been a false hope. His academic skills held him through the classes, and the strict teachers meant that the classes were a safe haven, of a sort. A haven where he could look a person in the eye and be unworried.*
*Outside of the classes, however, he would be worried perpetually. Declan's official capabilities were Empathic Projection - the ability to share emotion between people, and his school mates did not see it as very impressive. They harassed him about it, but he dared not do anything - a hole in the dam led to a crack in the dam led to no dam at all.*
*They made him a laughingstock, a verbal pincushion, but though the words hurt, he found solace in his knowledge, peace in his own mind - but he'd made a fatal mistake. An escape gone haywire, a calming exercise out of order - he'd started imagining his bullies suffering, in pain. Originally, it had helped, it had felt good, an outlet for his helpless fury, but he'd felt it too deeply.*
*He'd been pushed over the edge.*
Jeremiah Thorise, or what remained of him lay on the floor, crimson blood and chunks of brain matter coating Declan and those within close proximity. They were all screaming, yelling, crying, and they just *WOULDN'T! STOP! MAKING! NOISE!* Declan told them to shut up. They, of course, did not comply, but he smiled in satisfaction as their screams made no noise. Quiet panic was fine.
Declan acknowledged the fact that he was having a fit. He was past the panic stage now, he was cold, furious, unforgiving. Soon he'd snap out of it, realize what he'd done, and start crying. For now, he killed another one of them. Samson Glovers, a 17-year-old who seemed to be incapable of shutting his mouth - until now, of course.
Declan smiled. It was funny, after all. He felt the sharpness fade, felt the humanity return, and his last perfectly rational act was to kill a third. Less to bother the Declan that cared.
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j7oh59e
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j7obw0z
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[WP]The young teen hero has called you, one of the oldest villains crying, apparently from what you could hear, their parents killed their dog from not doing a chore and kicked them out since they are gay, and then they ask if they could live with you
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Ultra Girl had cried herself to sleep in the big leather recliner in my breakroom. I gathered the cocoa mug from her and pulled the knit throw up around her shoulders. I would need to buy more hard candies, the girl had demolished my supply.
It really was a shame the things some folks do. Sure, I would rob a bank, or hold a city hostage in a heartbeat. But I was just getting my due from a society of pathetic drones.
I would never dream of treating my own flesh and blood like this. In my books that was crime far worse than all the ones I was about to commit.
I pulled the phone off its hook in the kitchen and checked my book for the number of one of my younger associates. Someone competent, but not particularly perceptive for this one.
"Yes, Blackjack, it's Dr. Devious. I have some work for you... yes, yes I can pay extra for the short notice... I need two people killed."
I listed off the details of the job and hashed out the fees.
"Remember Blackjack, don't make a mess or leave any evidence. And I do need the bodies... oh, also, there should be the remains of a dog on the property as well. I need those... no, I don't think I will tell you what this is about."
I hung up after getting a grudging ascent.
"Nibbles, go get the cloning vats fired up, and activate one of the Devious Bots. I'm going to need to send it out to complete a deal tonight."
The calico gave me the gimmlet eye before climbing out of Ultra Girl's lap and stalking off to do his job.
I rooted around through my small closet armory.
"Oh, I know you're here somewhere you piece of junk... aha, got you!."
I pulled out the heavy and clunky memory redactor. Quite a useless thing in most cases. No matter how much memory you erased, it seems like heroes always had some loving connection waiting in the wings to jog their memories right in the nick of time.
I wasn't worried about that in this case.
"Don't worry dear, just a little off the top, and you will wake up in your happy home, with your supportive parents and loving dog."
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"Look, Phoenix, I *can* help you, but there's the fact that I'm a literal villain, and you're a literal hero. You'll be in danger if you stay with me, you know that right?" Elsie, also known as Circe, was just baffled. She wasn't even sure *how* the kid had even gotten her number, but she felt such pity for the girl. She knew what it was like, after all.
"I'll always be in danger, Circe. *Please*." Was all the young girl said, and despite the fact she was a villain, Elsie's heart broke, because she knew that this girl and her were so alike.
A sigh left Elsie's lips, and she glanced over to her wife who was listening in while she was cooking them dinner. Their eyes met, and her reaction said it all. "Okay kid, I'm coming to pick you up. Where are you at?" When Phoenix told her the address, Elsie smiled. "I'll be there in ten. Keep safe for me, yeah?"
"Yes ma'am." Phoenix whispered, and hung up, leaving Elsie to stare at her phone for a few moments.
"First Jackson, now Phoenix. You really get yourself roped up into protecting these kids, don't you Elsie?" Delilah smirked over at her wife who groaned and flipped her off, which only made Delilah laugh. Silence encompassed them for a few moments.
"I can't just leave them like that, you know that." Elsie finally spoke up, and Delilah's eyes softened.
"I know, love. I know." Silence again.
"I'll go get her, I love you." Elsie whispered, and Delilah smiled.
"Love you too." And with a golden flash, Elsie was gone from the living room.
***Dunno how to end this, but I hope this was an okay read for everyone. My second story on here!***
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k3j9z61
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k3i8ous
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[WP] “And what do you do with the children? Enslave them? Eat them?” “What? No!” The witch shouted, aghast. “I raise them, of course. If parents are willing to give up their children for greed, then imagine what they’d do to the child, given the chance to raise it?”
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The witch looked me up and down, trying to decide if I was worth the effort, then she gestured towards her cottage.
"Come on, I'll show you", she said, already walking her old lady walk to the door.
I followed her, convinced I was making the worst mistake of my life, but too curious to think rationally.
Inside the cottage, which was noticeably larger than it looked from the outside, the witch dragged a very large chest from somewhere. I was entirely unable to see where she took it from. Then she opened it. The chest was full to the brim with letters. Cheap paper, expensive paper, parchment, vellum, rolls, small booklets.
"Letters what my kids send me" the witch declared, beaming with pride.
"All of those?" I walked up to the chest carefully, lest it grew teeth and legs. It did not.
"They're very good kids, raised well" the witch said, pointedly.
I extended a hand to the letters and looked up at her. She nodded.
They were exactly what she said they would be, the kind of letters you would write your mother. Letters talking about the mundane or world changing events of their authors, told in their most intimate voice, not events narrated to a biographer or confessed to an interrogator.
*“Mrs. Frogsworth, I did kill that dragon I told you about, I was scared but did it”.*
*“Hermelinda, the townspeople accepted my decision, and the restlessness is finally no more. I hope I made the right choice”.*
*“Meli, the crops aren’t what I was hoping for, but they’ll do. I asked the town’s witch for a soil enlivening concoction for next year. She was surprised that I knew what to ask, and I think she was happy to help. I told her about you and she said you sounded like a clever one”.*
Letter after letter reporting events which would make a historian drool, or snore. But between the lines all the letters said the same thing: “Are you proud? Am I being good? Am I worthy of the love you gave me? Am I a good girl even though I’m 50 years old and the mayor of an important trading town? Are you proud that even though I’m the leader of a bandit clan, I’m doing so while trying to follow the ethical principles you taught me? Warriors praise me, but through me they praise you”.
*“Momma, I fought a thing what came through a portal. Banged me up badly but I killed it”.*
I looked up at the witch.
“Is this letter from Jorgen of Basildar? The Warlord!?” My voice rose pathetically towards the end.
“Yep”, the witch nodded. “Dictated, mind you. Never could get letters into that boy, and I tried real hard. When I made my peace that his big head just wasn’t made for reading or writing, got him an apprenticeship with a blacksmith. Didn’t stick, of course, but gave him a proper foundation, something he can fall back on. And if you know of him, you know he’s the only warlord in all of the Four and a Half Kingdoms who can make and properly care for his own weapons”.
My jaw was probably halfway to the ground.
“He thwarted the Golden Magus by walking into the City of Pillars wielding a sword he’d made himself, and therefore was the only one with no curse or magic in it!” I said, and realized it had sounded like an objection.
“Well there you go. He wrote about having fought at the City of Pillars”. She said, nonchalantly, but beaming a little more.
She had raised Jorgen of Basildar. She had also raised a previous Grand Wizard of the College City of Ambergris.
“How old are you?” I asked, holding in my hands what looked like very old vellum, written in characters which resembled modern speech, and yet not quite.
“Oh I don’t keep count anymore”, she said, shrugging. She wasn’t that powerful a witch, my training was telling me. But maybe because she had been practicing a form of witchcraft which we hadn’t thought about.
“You raised Old Whitecap the Wise?”, I asked.
“Oh yes, called him Aman, one of the ones I got as a baby. Got him just before some cultists of something or other could get him first. Had to run that time, with him and two other children I was caring for. The cultists were angry. But I have my ways to hide”.
‘I bet you do’, I thought. I was getting the feeling my finding her may not have been because of my skills.
“He was a Grand Wizard”, I said.
“One of the grandest. Real sweet boy but very contemplative like. You could tell he was reading the world when he sat and stared at things. Even things what I didn’t know you could read”. She said.
“He lived over eight hundred years ago. He had been meant as a sacrifice to the Finch god. There are books saying he broke and then mended the world”. I said while carefully rolling up the piece of vellum, which suddenly felt so heavy, somehow more powerful than any spell I had ever held in my hands. From what I could read in the old script, he was telling her about discovering a new favorite soup, and promising to find the recipe and send it to her.
The witch sighed, lost in very old memories.
“That was just like him” she whispered.
I remained kneeling in front of the chest, deep in thought. I had been sent here to kill a witch which had been sighted in this woods, as commanded by the precepts of the Order of the Silver Sigil. But I was becoming convinced she had allowed me to find her. She may not be powerful in the normal ways of witchcraft, but if she hid from the Servants of the Finch god, if she had been alive for longer than eight hundred years… No, the most important question was, what would be of the Order if I killed her? Imagine Jorgen of Basildar learning that someone killed his momma. Imagine Old White Cap the Wise bursting from the soil itself as the legend warns he will, but doing so because someone spilt the blood of his “Froagye”. Imagine Crossroads banning any and all members of the Order from setting foot there. Imagine some nameless peasant who nobody will look at twice, but who was raised clever, walking into the Order’s palace pretty much unnoticed, and full of revenge.
I stood up slowly.
“Is it true that Old White Cap the Wise will return?” I asked her.
“It would be like him to. I hope he visits if he does” she said, looking deep in my eyes, knowing I had made a decision.
“What is Jorgen of Basildar like in person?” I asked next.
“Temperamental. Hot headed. He can love so much”, the witch said, smiling. “But he knows how to forgive, I made sure he knew how to before letting him out into the world”.
I tried to smile back, and then I began to walk to the cottage door.
“Did he ever send you that recipe? Old White Cap the Wise?” I asked while standing before the open door.
“He did. Drop by some time and I’ll make it for you”, the witch answered.
I nodded and walked out of the cottage.
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Since i see others not quite meeting the prompt i shall be so arrogant and use this chance to share a chapter of my story i recently finish and currently refine (the part it fits the prompt the mc is known as The Witch of Alinguar)
I would have another fitting scene a bit earlier in the timeline where a priest threatens her if interest be
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It was a nice day in Alinguar.
Alia had no commissions, her various allies reported only progress and there was nothing to do.
Which meant she could fully concentrate on the one thing she absolutely loved to do besides adventuring and exploring the world.
And that is why she got the large classroom stuffed to the brim with kids of all ages who didn’t want to miss out on her latest class, even if the homework would be annoying.
She smiled brightly seeing how they even had brought some more tables so everyone got a spot.
“Ok Kids, today we are going to discuss potions.” she began unfolding the prepared blackboard.
Eyes all lit up, Alchemy was usually reserved only for the advanced classes, this will be good.
Alia looked at a wide grinning boy “No James we won’t make bombs, not yet.”
He smiled a bit less wide, she had seen right through him.
“What we will be talking about is safety.” several groans answered her and she chuckled.
“I know you all know our stories, but you got some years before you can go on adventures. And so that one day you can tell your stories, we must think about safety.”
A girl raised her arm “Yes Julia?”
“We must be strong to be safe so nobody can hurt us again!” she smiled brightly.
“Exactly, but potions will not make you stronger.” another raised arm and she nodded.
“But Sis, potions do make strong.” “Yes Paula, they do, but they come with a price.”
The kids had questioning faces.
“Let me give you an example, a Potion of Strength will indeed make your muscles stronger and you could easily lift twice what you normally could, but if you are not well trained and there is no healer nearby then will your body be strained and your muscles tear.” she saw some of them understand.
“In an emergency you may need that, but if you would constantly drink them then your body will get used to it, and slowly over time your muscles will need the potion to function. Even worse, your mind gets too used to that strength, and then you will need them all the time. Yes Leonard?”
“Are potions addictive? Like alcohol and those bad plants?”
“Yes. Glad you paid attention in Steve’s class.” his smile brightened “That is also why you don’t learn about them until you are older, most of them are made with those ingredients, even a health potion can become too much, they contain sapweed, it soothes the pain of the healing, but too much and your mind goes numb and after a while you cannot feel anything except if you eat more of it.”
“You constantly drink these vials.” another girl spoke up without much wait.
“My potions should be a warning and they are different.” Alia just smiled at her.
“Because you need blood?” “Yes Dani. Drako’s like me are immune to most potions, and because I was a bad kid and nobody paid much attention to the side effects do they not work for me.”
“And you don’t want us to experience that problem?” Daniela was just too smart and curious.
“Exactly, learn from my mistakes so you can be better then me.”
“Nobody is as strong as you.” another boy pouted loudly.
“Kurn, you do not have to be as strong as I am, you have to be better in the ways you can be.”
She sighed, got herself a seat and sat down before them.
“I am strong so you can be safe, so you can be who you want to be. We do not expect you to fight monsters and devils like I do, I do that so you all don’t have to. I will be as proud of you if you sweep the streets as I will be proud of you if you wrestle dragons.” she smiled at them.
“Then why do you want us to be strong?” he had a different tone now.
“So you can protect yourself and those that matter to you. Remember how I found you?”
He nodded rather sad, he was a thieving street urchin that was being beat up by thugs.
“When I was found was I even weaker, I could not even stand on 2 feet, all I could do was scurry on all fours and ambush sleeping rabbits, who were all larger and stronger then me.”
The kids eyes went wide, none of them could imagine her being so weak and she chuckled.
“But like you I was found by strong and kind people.” “Your parents!” a boy exclaimed.
“Yes Paul, my parents, they took me in without any expectation, they taught me how to be strong, not in the hopes I will be stronger than them, but that I will be safe and happy. They taught me how to defend myself, and with that I learned how to defend others, to give you this chance.”
She smiled softly at the kids “Seeing you all be safe and happy is all I wish for. Some of you may become adventurers, maybe even healers or you just carry heavy stuff at the docks. It does not matter to us what you will become, only that you will be happy doing it without hurting anyone.”
“But what if someone tries to hurt us?” Kurn sounded worried about hurting no one.
“Then you will kick their ass and teach them that good does not mean soft. That kindness is not a weakness. Because a good person will just put the bad guy down, only bad guys gloat and wait.”
Her grin was now anything but soft and a few of the kids giggled. Some of them definitely knew what she meant, they remembered how mercilessly she dealt with the bad guys threatening them.
“Some day you may go out and explore the world, and some day you may find a kid just like you, you can help then, and you can do it without stealing and killing like these nobles do.”
A few of them had a grimace, most of their pain came from being born commoners.
“And when that day comes, then you can live honest and safe. Be an example to the world that we do not need to kick each other down, that we can share our strengths and be stronger together.”
The kids were now all silent and thinking, she was just smiling gently seeing how each of them digested these thoughts in their own way and began smiling at each other.
Then she got up and grinned her mischievous little smirk at them.
“Who wants to blow something up?” the kids all began to grin widely.
She still had prepared papers for them to learn, but for now they earned to see a few big loud explosions she also had prepared, and with that the class left for the training grounds.
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k8ytt8v
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k8y33rc
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[WP] Doctor Evil is a campy Saturday morning supervillain and usually defeated by pre-teen heroes. Lesson included. He also once took down an entire alien armada by himself because they were ruining his fight with one of his pre-teen foes
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Doctor Evil was dealing with the heroes again. As per usual, they were in some abandoned quarry. What was his plan again this time? Oh right! “And with the rocks I can find here, I can create a device able to control the minds of everyone.”
“That’s terrible.” Shining Star said.
“You won’t get away with this!” Furious Flame said, getting ready to hit him with some fire.
Before he could however, something hit the quarry where they were. The heroes were confused, and Doctor Evil looked up, using his glasses to look up.
He then activated his jet packs, and made it to Earth orbit in only 15 seconds. He then saw the alien fleet in Earth orbit, and activated his “Jetpack Sun Launchers!”
He then transmitted a message, “No one messes with them except me.” The alien fleet was then destroyed very easily quickly.
As Mr. Johnson got back home, having got ridden of his gear just a bit earlier. “Kids, I got some gifts for you!” Mary and Ash came on over. He gave his kids some necklaces.
Mary got a necklace with a flame charm, Ash a star one. “Dad!” Ash said, “You know we like the other ones.” He said as they swapped.
“I know, but I’m the only one to mess with my family!” He laughed. It was nice to see how much they had developed in every facet of their lives.
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Doctor Evil was about to face off against the heroes, Joe and Lyle. The doctor looked how you would expect: a man in a lab coat. The two sides stared at each other in their fighting stances. "Wait just a moment", intervened Lyle. "Huh?", asked the villain. "I recently mastered a mind-reading spell, and I used it on you. I can see that you're holding back. Why?" "I...uh...", the doctor started. "D'aww, do you like us?", asked Joe affectionately. The doctor crossed his arms and faced to the side.
Two days passed since this exchange. The villain and the heroes were back to where they started: about to face off. "We could have just played video games together, but you had to be a sore loser", said Joe. "How are you two so good at the game?!", asked the doctor.
Lyle turned to the viewer. "See, even the meanest-looking people can turn out to be good people."
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j3u90d1
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j3ttdo4
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[WP] A millennium ago, only the wealthiest were allowed to board the ship, allowed to escape this dying planet into space. In their absence the world healed and humanity built a new utopia. Now, the ulta-rich have returned and want to reap the benefits of the new world.
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“So, who are you?”
“Humans that left the earth a thousand years ago! We have returned!”
“Never heard of you.”
“We are the mighty 1% of the 1%.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Look, we’re rich. We had 98% of the earths riches. We still have our money”
“That currency belongs in a museum. It’s not legal tender”
“Then what about the deeds to our land?”
“Hold up, you went to space a thousand years ago and took the deeds to your land on the planet you were leaving behind with you?”
“In case we returned. We wanted our stuff back.”
“The government that validated those deeds fell over 900 years ago. They are no longer valid.”
“Then perish under the might of our power!”
“Sir, that ship is a thousand years old. My systems are telling me they have like three singularity power sources, only one of which is for weapons. The others are making your food or powering your engines. Oh, just noticed the five nuclear warheads. Big ones yes. Our asteroid interception system would take them down before they are in the atmosphere. Meanwhile we have three separate guns that fires neutron stars fix on you and you don’t have shields.”
“I thought your utopia was peaceful? Why do you have these defenses?”
“Oh, three hundred years ago some others left claiming they would be back to destroy us. They were just been sitting in the Ort cloud launching asteroids at us. We made piece with them two hundred years ago. It’s become kind of fun to watch our systems shoot the asteroids down. Big guns break it apart. Smaller systems clean up the rest. We loved the fireworks so much we do it and broadcast it once a month. Systems that do that are fully automated, and the reason we noticed you is they were preparing to fire, but it’s not scheduled for another two days. Had to actually scramble to figure out these old communication systems. Luckily there are some museums that keep old technologies working and do technical demonstrations. I’m not even the leader, I’m just a translator because people don’t speak English anymore.”
“So, you aren’t going to give us shares of everything?”
“Look, not saying it’s been perfect since you left, but it hasn’t been bad. What can you offer us? There just isn’t any need for any of you anymore. You have old money, old technology and nothing of value. Even your knowledge is a thousand years out of date. We can let you back in, and integrate you into society, but there is no special spot for you.”
“What if we don’t want to stay?”
“We can look into updating your ship and you can continue on your travels. I mean you’ve aged what, our calculations tell us five years thanks to relativity? Do the circle again and see if another thousand years puts Tera back in a spot where you are relevant? Or get you a terraforming ship, and get you set up on some lifeless moon or distant planet. We would have communication abilities and would support you. We have a list of some we think would be a good location. Normally people stay here and we send robots. But if you aren’t comfortable here, it’s an option.”
“Can we think about it a while?”
“Yeah. But not right there. We would suggest going to at least Mars. Should still be a pretty light show. Enjoy it!”
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It's the night of the winter solstice and families are gathering together to celebrate Paxmas. This holiday was once called christmas in a time long ago when the earth was at its dying breath. Families received an emergency alert noting that contact was being made from beyond the moon as it was transmitting a distress signal to earth. The vessel which had a trajectory to land on the earth's surface was called ARC-NA01. After communicating with the wandering vessel it made obvious that they were humans. They described themselves as Intergalactic Americans' from the Andromeda galaxy. This was surprising news as everybody thought all human life that left this world for the stars were dead.
Traveling Kreeds passed transmissions to our founding settlers that all humans in the travelled star systems have perished from either starvation or hostile battles with other life in the star system. Since we were able to recondition life on earth it has become a natural protection zone within the Advance Intelligent Republic. As far as we know were the only known humans to be included in this from of centralized government. They even went so far as to make Earth the primary headquarters for the government to conduct policy of spreading peace in the universe.
With this key information has brought us all shock to hear our distant human relatives were alive was astounding! Under pretext law all incoming life must be interviewed and scanned for warrants and commutable diseases. After landing on earth the so called Americans' were detained to conduct interview with the leader of the ship. Passengers on board the ship were becoming restless as they were all eager to see the world they're ancestors left. After a month of interviews and examinations the passengers were all accounted for and scanned. A troublesome alert came back to the head organizer that was leading the exam. This was from a higher up that warned they were not to let any American back onto earth soil.
Noting the message the organizer Caesar took heed with the message and began to ask what the reason was for not allowing passage to earth. AIR responded back with another message about what happened with Earth long ago. They mention it was because of their ancestors greed. Earth was a sprawling polluted planet that was on the verge of death. People of extreme wealth were given a privilege to leave this dying planet to seek a new home in the stars. So governments separated wealth and life leave this world, and ultimately chose to leave with wealth. The founder of the new life calendar and new unified government classified those the star travelers as terrorist and banished them from this world. Seeing how many leaders back then and even today mention of this banishment we all follow the laws set by the founders to vow never to let Earth's history to repeat itself.
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