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[WP] You die and go to Hell only to find out that you're the only person that has ever entered. Satan is clapping.
|
A bone-jarring impact jolts me awake, followed by a few seconds of searing pain. I try to sit up, but the searing pain keeps me on by back. After a moment, the pain begins to subside and I'm able to sit up and take stock of my situation. When I look down at myself I nearly pass out. What once was a mostly healthy, slightly overweight body is now a mangled purple husk...
"What.... happened?" I say to myself... After a few moments my memory returns... Fuck. Why'd I have to go base jumping from the Petronas Towers while on vacation in Malaysia? It's clear that the impact I heard was ME hitting the ground. Where am I anyway? This clearly isn't Kuala Lumpur.
I struggle to my feet, amazed that my wrecked form can handle that much. Looking around I see nothing but a small room that seems to be carved from bedrock. There is no furnishings of any sort. A faint light glows from the ceiling above, but I can't see any actual source. I spot a door on one wall.
Despite an inexplicable feeling of dread, I am compelled toward the door. I open it and step into a hallway. The walls are transparent, and through them lies everyone's worst nightmare. Fire and brimstone. Lava flowing down into pits. It dawns on me... I'm in HELL.
From the other end of the short hallway, a man steps through the door. He's dressed in ragged black robes that seem to be worn over the top of even more ragged red robes. His beard is black, with a stripe of white running down the middle. The most alarming feature are two rams horns spiraling around each side of his head.... He's... clapping?
"Who are you!?" I demand with alarm.
"Who am I?" he says, "There are some who call me... Tim. But you? You can call me Satan. Or just Stan if you wish. Welcome to hell!"
I snort in amusement. "Really? A Monty Python joke? Do you greet people like this all the time?"
"Uh... well... you could say that. You're the first one to arrive." he admits.
"What? With all the murderers and rapists on earth, *I* am the first one to go to hell? How the fuck does THAT work!? I've never killed anybody, harmed anyone, or stolen anything." I shout
Stan sighs as if defeated. "Do you honestly think God would condemn his children to eternal pain and torture? The only way I'm ALLOWED any souls is through making deals... and after the humiliation of losing a fiddle contest to some snot-nosed kid I haven't really cared to try. My last effort was an attempt at a cyber-contract. All they had to do was pay for a piece of software and I'd own their soul."
The sense of dread gets deeper... I know why I'm here. I know what doomed me to hell.
"Fuck... You mean I'm the only one that paid for WinRar?"
Stan grins at me and says "Like I said. Welcome to Hell."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Interested in feedback. This is probably the second time I've ever written in Writing Prompts... I don't know why I haven't done it more. I always have a blast making this stuff up.
Edit: Holy cow! I didn't really expect this to explode like this. Thanks for the Updoots and all the kind comments! :) I think I'll have to do more of these!
Edit 2: This post has more than doubled my total comment karma..... I'm kinda flabbergasted... Thank you all again!
Edit 3: Wow... Gold... Thank you kind stranger!!
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A bang, a flash. Yes, I remember that clearly in mind. Surprisingly there was no pain. I suppose my body was already numb from the shock of coming home to find this man, no boy, in my house. It’s all really just a blur. I had only just spotted him when I opened the door. He was halfway down the stairs with my wife’s jewellery box in one hand and the gun in the other pointing directly at me. The shot followed quickly after. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him I didn’t care, that he could take it or even that I could help him. With the support of the church we had helped many people in the community just like him.
The shot had sent me hard to the ground, banging my head off the wall on the way down. My instincts took over and I just grabbed Rose. Attempting to put myself between her and my attacker. He didn’t even look at us as he stepped over me and strode out the door. I clenched my hand full of Rose’s dress and pulled her close. Blood was now everywhere, my shirt, the carpet and her dress. She had only got it last week for her birthday. The massive grin glowed from her all day. There was no sign of it now. My poor innocent girl, eyes wide just stared at me. A stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. “I love you Rose. You and your mother are the greatest things to ever happen to me. Don’t lose faith. I will be with god soon.”
Ha, god. Where was he now? I stood now in an extravagate hall. Six marble columns etched with carvings of runes and symbols flanked both my sides. A large fire was blazing in the western walls fire pit; however I don’t suspect that what was cause of the humid heat that pressured my skin from every angle. And there he was, sat on the throne just staring at me with those deep, dark red eyes.
“Well, after all these years” his voice boomed out, echoing of the cold stone walls. “You are the first human”, he really emphasised the word *human* “to ever step into my….”
“**What?!** The first human?” I interrupted. The rage flooded over me like nothing I had ever felt before. I unclenched my right hand and pointed straight at him. “I know who you are, Satan. But how can I be the first human to ever be sent to hell. Me a worshipper of god, who had helped so many people on to the path god had carved out for us, who had been the man in the house since his father abandoned before he was born, who was a loving husband and caring father. HOW CAN I BE THE FIRST!” I had never felt such anger. I could feel my eyes peeled wide open but my vision had now narrowed with one thing in focus, him. The heat that had made breathing hard was now gone.
His mouth widened into a massive grin baring his white, razor teeth at me. “Ah, yes. You have lived your whole life of righteousness and kindness. Been a loving husband and father you always wanted. Your mother, what did she ever tell you of your father?”
I stumbled on the question. Why would he care about him? He who should be here, not me. “She never spoke of him. Whenever I would ask she would try to pass it off and tell me he was….” No. It can’t be.
His smile widened even further. “the Devil?”
Edit: Just wanted to add any feedback is much welcomed since this was my first input to Writing Prompts
| 2017-06-22T06:21:45 | 2017-06-22T04:50:26 | 4,092 | 732 |
[WP] write the best story you can in 5 sentences or less
|
His first time in prison, he was only 15
It made him hard and it made him mean
When they let him out, he was a mess.
Four more times before a judge, until a bullet in the chest
Meant that his life could be told in 5 sentences or less
Edit: Formatting and typos
|
The quiet boy looked up at the worried man. They stood facing a world of questions and uncertainty, where they would only have each other to survive. The man drew a deep breath and took stock of the situation before stepping forward to lead the way. There was no turning back now. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
| 2015-08-09T12:17:27 | 2015-08-09T10:49:30 | 76 | 14 |
[WP] You die and find yourself in hell, where apparently everyone spends time to negate their sins before they go to heaven. The guy in front of you, who cheated on his wife, gets 145 years. Feeling like you led a fairly average and peaceful life, you’re not worried. You get 186,292 years.
|
----------------------------------------------
186,292 YEARS?
How could this be? I never even harmed a fly. Okay, well - maybe a few of those. You know what I mean.
**"....But why?**", I asked struck by pure horror and disbelief.
The hell warden looked right into my eyes and cracked a diabolic smile:
"Do you even realize how many people died because you refused to forward those chain-mails?"
----------------------------------------------
|
Why?, I ask in disbelief I tithed I went to church I was a faithful husband. What did I do? Saint Peter looks deep into my eyes with morose and disgust, “ It is not what you have done but what you failed to do...” I rack my mind trying to figure out what it was and finally it dawns on me. All this time for a Fucking Facebook post!!!!
| 2018-09-26T07:41:09 | 2018-09-26T03:51:49 | 1,768 | 123 |
[WP] write the best story you can in 5 sentences or less
|
His first time in prison, he was only 15
It made him hard and it made him mean
When they let him out, he was a mess.
Four more times before a judge, until a bullet in the chest
Meant that his life could be told in 5 sentences or less
Edit: Formatting and typos
|
The sky was so clear on that warm July night that we first met. The world was so bright throughout our honeymoon in Paris. Everything seemed to darken when I became sick. It started to brighten as you helped me get better. It is becoming pitch black now that you are gone.
| 2015-08-09T12:17:27 | 2015-08-09T10:23:36 | 76 | 26 |
[WP]You're an ancient Greek man coming home from 4 months of war to find your wife 3 months pregnant. Now you've embarked on a solemn quest: to punch Zeus in the face.
|
"You're here to do what to me?" the King of the Gods asked, a bushy eyebrow raised and a sudden smile appearing on his face.
"Punch you in the face," I said, my fists closing and opening in anticipation, "You got my wife pregnant."
"Ah," Zeus looked away in contemplation, "Was it Lorissa of Abila?" When he saw my look of confusion he continued, "Maybe it was Themela of Thebes? or Camilla of Alexandria?"
"See!" I yelled, stepped forward and he raised his golden hands defensively, "This is what I mean! You've bedded so many women you don't even remember her."
"Oh I'm sure I'd remember her if you'd give me a clue," Zeus said, "Do you happen to have a vase with her picture on it? Wait, did she have really big knockers or smaller knockers? Big hips or slim?"
"That's it!" I said, drawing my fist back. Sure, he'd lightning bolt me a second later but I didn't care anymore.
"Hold on, hold on, man," Zeus said and smiled, "We can come to some arrangement here. No need for all of this anger and violence."
"No need for..." I was grinding my teeth, "If there's no need for violence why are you always fighting Titans and giants? Besides, you got my wife pregnant when I was off fighting the Spartans!"
"Hold on, can I make you the god of something?" Zeus said, "How about the fields? Rivers? Do you like turtles?"
"What about wine," I offered, suddenly interested in his proposition.
"Wine!" Zeus boomed and laughed, "There you go! What's your name, son?"
"Dionysus," I said then gasped. There was suddenly a full bottle of wine in one hand and a golden cup in the other. Well, if I couldn't undo what Zeus had done, at least I could drink it away. I took a long drag from the bottle and raised a toast, "To my cheating wife, Berrala of Athens!"
"Berrala!" Zeus laughed, "She DID have big knockers!"
|
___
"I know that it's hot, but you agreed to help." I whispered from a nearby bush.
"We've been at this for weeks, I don't think he's coming."
"Shut up! Shush! You're a hapless mortal, a lonely girl in a field, he can't resist that for too long."
"I just think your wife cheated on y-"
"Be quiet, this might be him."
A bull grazed several meters away from Alexia.
"That's just a bull."
"We can't just assume that, approach it."
"I wish Mom had drowned you." she said, before slowly walking toward the bull.
The bull glanced at her from the side of its massive head, still eating grass.
"It's not him." She said. I leaped from the bush, and began charging the bull full tilt. It raised its head just in time for me to clock it on the jaw. "Take that, oh King of Kings!" I yelled.
The bull barely flinched, then ran away.
"What the hell Cy? You're lucky it didn't kill you, besides that was just a cow."
"We can never be sure."
"Well what now?"
"Now, dear sister, we go set up in another field, and wait for this slippery bastard to strike again."
"I'm not doing that."
"What did you just say."
"I said it's hot and almost dark and I'm not waiting all night in a field with you again. You'll have to find somebody else to be your bait."
"Fine, you're probably not his type anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"You know what it means."
She left for the town in a huff.
"Well, looks like there's only one thing left to do."
The next day Cy could be seen, wearing a wig he'd borrowed from a nearby theater house, bending over provocatively at the sky.
"I do this for love!" he shouted, before charging at the shepherd of
the livestock he kept punching.
___
| 2019-08-20T06:13:53 | 2019-08-20T05:35:31 | 257 | 47 |
[WP] Kanye West's daughter, for her birthday, asks Kanye to show some modesty for once in his life. Follow Kanye's subsequent quest to prove that since he's the best at everything ever, he can become the most humble man in the world.
|
Kanye West
Went on a Kanye Quest
To become the humblest man
And make his daughter impressed
He’s become cheaply dressed
Sold all but one vest
Gave away all the money
In the Kanye Chest
“But a man needs to rest”,
Said that Kanye West
Left with naught but a cot
As his Kanye Nest
All this left Kanye stressed,
As you might have guessed.
But with North’s wishes fulfilled,
He felt his Kanye Best.
|
"Sorry baby, but I don't think I'm capable of that. My persona may be mostly an act but it's an easy one at that. Modesty would be a challenge for me, and I don't think I'm ready to rise to the occasion."
Then the computer next to them explodes as this is several years in the future and there's always on voice recognition on everything.
| 2015-02-10T10:31:06 | 2015-02-10T08:43:24 | 60 | 21 |
[WP]Write a sentimental, heartwarming story. Then cram as many product placements as you can
|
It was Valentine's Day, and that meant buying Edible Arragment fruit baskets and Toblerone chocolate for my girlfriend to celebrate. We were recently engaged, having got down on one knee and offering a Tiffany ring.
I got out of bed and started my day with a shower. I used Dove shampoo and conditioner, followed by Nivea body soap. I used Old Spice deodorant and spray afterwards because I wanted to smell manly on this special day.
My girlfriend was already downstairs cooking breakfast. I could smell the sausages and scrambled eggs cooking in our Copper Chef non fry stick pan. A cup of Folgers coffee awaited me on the table, and I sat down and took a small sip. I smiled to my girlfriend as she cooked, and she smiled back. She was beautiful, wearing her Hedly and Bennet apron. I smiled, life was good.
|
When I was 15, I was diagnosed with depression. It crushed me, because now all of my reasons to be sad made sense. I was lost, didn't know who to talk to, until I realised that I had friends, family, and most of all...
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| 2019-09-19T18:20:57 | 2019-09-19T16:22:40 | 15 | 11 |
[WP] You wake up to Death sitting patiently with his legs crossed opposite from you. "Where am I?" you ask the hooded figure. "I'm sorry but you've died. I'm happy to send you back if you'd like." "Why would you do that?" "I give everyone that option, but they must take a short walk with me first."
|
*You’re dead, I’m afraid*
“I’m…dead?”, the woman said, looking up at the hooded reaper. Its gaunt face nodded slightly, and she relaxed. She didn’t know why.
“You died from a car crash, driving home from work.”, Death said, turning their hood toward the woman. “You also don’t know why you feel relieved.”, they added.
“I- yes, it was bound to happen anyway.”, she said dully, Death said nothing. “My life was falling apart the day I died, and now Arlo has no one to be with.”, she continued, sighing softly.
Death nodded again, and asked,
“Would you like to go back?”, the woman lit up at that, and her eyes settled on the tall dark figure beside her.
“Really? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“You say this to other people who have died too?”
“Yes.”
The woman exhaled deeply, and sat down on the surprisingly warm floor. She stared at Death while she thought it over.
“I could see Arlo again?”, she whispered. Death only nodded, their brown eyes closely watching the woman.
“What’s the catch?”, she said cautiously, Death chuckled.
“There is no catch. You just have to take a walk with me before you make your decision.”, Death said simply.
“Okay, a walk sounds fine.”, the woman said, Death offered her their hand, she took it.
Author’s note: Will continue if post gets 1 upvote
|
And so I went.
Through my life on a walk with death itself wondering how I got there. I couldn't even remember how I died yet here I was. Watching my life through a looking glass being a spectator rather than the lead, with death as my companion. Through the highs and lows, watching every single memory of my life, except the most important one. Still confused as to why I'm supposedly dead, yet here I am walking.
At a sudden stop I hear the broken voice of death himself, "we're here, we're at the end of your life, make your decision" still not understanding I question him " but how did I die, you left that out." Chuckling to himself he replies " that's the catch, accept your death and find out how you died but going back to the living will mean that you never find out how you died, leaving you unbeknownst to the cause of your death." Can I change my mind?" " No, it's final." "Then I choose acceptance, I choose to accept my fate and to die, for I realise that not knowing could kill me in itself, making me question if it was an accident or intentional. Did someone kill me, can I trust anyone. I accept death"
I know it's really bad, I wrote this in like 5 minutes during class.
Edit: changed some grammar issues
| 2021-07-28T03:56:20 | 2021-07-28T03:11:25 | 42 | 11 |
[WP] You picked up a dozen eggs at the farmer's market but when it came time to cook breakfast in the morning you find your fridge contained zero eggs and a dozen tiny dragons.
|
" I'm now the mother of dragons ??!!"
"Stop it Anneliese, how they get there??"
"Well, you bought it, when I asked for special eggs, I just wanted the organic ones, from who exactly you bought this eggs from???"
"The nice lady with the purple hair"
"Zoey, honey, you can't get eggs with the local witch, you suppose to get my cough medicine with her, and the eggs and milk with the Henley's"
"Next time you go to buy it yourself okay, or I will just buy everything from Costco.
What we gonna do with these little ice dragons, there is a whole flock of them"
"Flock ??"
" Flock, pack, murder, hive, litter, I don't care, they're gonna get so big, and there are six of them."
" Thank God you didn't pick up the dozen like I ask for"
|
I went to the groceries that day, as I stood by the supermarket counter, I saw a bunch of rainbow coloured eggs, so naturally I bought them. The next day I heard munching sounds behind the fridge and some loud belches, so I quickly opened my fridge door!
There in front of me were a whorl of different coloured serpentine creatures, each with draconic features, brown, green, red and yellow dragons chirped sleepily as they squabbled over a piece of leftover chicken... Then the dragons sleepily stared at me curiously. Most of them were a mixture of Chinese and Western dragons. One sleepy aquamarine Chinese dragon with multiple heads glared with yellow slitted eyes, unamused...
"Rawr?" the draconic horde chorused at me, equally confused? *Oh bother, time to get a new fridge...*
| 2022-02-08T06:35:46 | 2022-02-08T06:03:19 | 21 | 15 |
[WP] We expected the Earthlings to react with outrage and despair when we killed their leaders, destroyed their economies, and took over their governments—but to our surprise they seemed almost relieved.
|
It had been 8 months since the invasion had begun.
At first it was standard, simple even, but once we were able to eliminate their leaders... they seemed to celebrate. It was strange, really... there seemed to be a generational divide. Most of the younger ones welcomed our intervention with open arms. We had never experienced anything like these creatures, the humans.
We are one. We are all the same, all together. These “humans” were quite fascinating, once we started to set down our roots in their planet. Each being unique, like it’s own race. It does not share consciousness with anyone. And this has lead to astronomically large amounts of possibilities, ideas, and creations. The concepts of morality, heroes and villains, situations beyond what we had considered possible were all read or watched on a daily basis. This race was the genesis of ideas and creations, and it astonished us.
However, their separation also led to dissent and struggle. Since they were all separate, their were arguments, debates, conflicts, struggles for resources and what they generally refer to as “power”. They have parts of themselves rule over others, and they do not do a very good job at it. Their planet is dying, and the older generation is doing nothing about it. This is what led to their downfall. The divide between the young and old, those who fight for the future and those who fight for the present. So the youth accepted us, because although we were now in control, we were saving them.
However some of the old formed a resistance. There was one leader, one on the entire planet that we failed to kill. She was struck with 3 shots from our lethal rifles but failed to die. This... this we do not understand. The one whom they call Queen Elizabeth survived our attack and now leads the rebellion from the shadows.
We do not understand why they resist. We merely want to help, but it seems even though we are helping, they would prefer to be free then to be healthy and safe. This rebellion is starting to seem less like a resistance and more like a terrorist cell. We are in the trillions, yet they continue to attack and kill our hosts. However, every time they lead an attack on us, they hurt their own people as well. To try and get their “freedom,” they are willing to kill their own children.
2 years later.
It has been 2 years and 8 months since arrival. We have helped with most of their problems. We dissolved their governments and created new ones, we solved most of their diseases and viruses and established a place where no one would be hungry or safe. We are preparing to leave as an invasion force, but keep our agents their to maintain peace and balance.
Most of the rebellion is gone, but their figurehead remains. What we once thought was an elderly, privileged human has turned out to be much more. Their European Monarchy was not chosen by a god of faith, but by an ancient eldritch being. The eldritch donated its blood to the nobility of Europe, and in our time of invasion it had been activated. Many hosts have died attempting to capture or eliminate the figurehead. We have determined it is best to withdraw mostly, and hope that it will stop the resistance once we let them begin to run themselves again, with proper guidance, of course. We are not prepared to fight the descendant of an eldritch.
Overall, the project was a success. Only 14 million casualties, and 8 million of that was self inflicted. We believe the humans will be better off now, and we hope to be able to leave in 15 of their human years.
Of course, first we must eliminate the descendant of the eldritch. That is too powerful a being to remain alive. So we shall return in slightly under a decade with an extermination force. While we have helped them humans greatly, we will do them an even greater favor by destroying she with the blood of the eldritch. This is not the end, we will be back.
r/BosscoreWrites
|
“It’s not your fault, Kyle. You’re a good kid. I know you want the best. You have optimism. I don’t *want* you to feel hopeless. It's just hard for me sometimes because...you know,” Jay paused, rubbing his palms together in that nervous way he always did when he talked about family matters. My brother was twenty nine now, a fully bearded, tattooed, faded black leather jacket-clad man. Still, I could picture the awkward teen I’d grown up with, rubbing his dry palms together while Dad and Aunt Beck shouted over the live news podcast.
“I can remember a time *before*, so it’s different for me,” he finally finished. I stared for a moment, overlaying a memory of Jay’s pubescent face over the stubbly, stress-aged but familiar scowl in my actual vision.
*‘A time before.*’ That’s the phrase everyone started using around the time I was born - no question about what the “before” might refer to. As if life on earth had been so incomprehensibly different back ‘then’, it deserved a separate era. To my generation, that mindset just seems ridiculous. Every single person in history must’ve felt nostalgic about the time “before” whatever change happened to rock society that year. This is no different. My world is the same as the one those Millenz always lived in. The only difference is, I was born in 2021: just the right time to witness all the denial without the constraint of memories from ‘then’.
Realizing I was meant to respond to Jay’s nostalgia trip, I defaulted with platitudes: “Hey man, it's all good. I know you’ve got your own… stuff … to work out. I don’t get it, but I gotta respect your decision if I want you to respect mine.”
“Tch,” he dropped my gaze with a disappointed grunt, rolling his eyes and thumbing his vape out of its case in the same fluid motion. “They teach you that line in your school's *conflict resolution* seminar?”
I felt my cheeks redden in spite of myself. Damn it, Jay always knew how to get a rise out of me. I should just shut up. I just need to be the bigger man. Don’t respond to his bullshit.
Don’t. Don’t argue.
...
“Fuck you,” I spat, “You know, I always *try* to have a civil conversation with you. I always at least listen.” My heart was beating fast, self-righteously thumping along.
“There he is,” Jay grinned like an asshole, “There’s the human. I knew you were in there,”
“We are humans, you idiot! We didn’t lose our humanity just because we adapted to the way the world works now. We’re surviving, like *humans*.”
“We’re not. This isn’t surviving.”
“Jay…”
“No, Kyle, you can’t change my mind on this. Letting an invasive alien species inject it’s consciousness into your fucking brain is not the survival of the human race. Allowing all the content of our minds, our thoughts, to be collected by some *foreign being!* Giving it free rein over your nervous system, letting it use your brain like a data processor! This isn’t humanity any longer.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what to say to you, bro. If you won’t even speak to me as an equal and consider *both sides* of this issue…”
“Just go, then.” Jay blinked hard a few times, trying to conceal the water pressing against his lids.
Fine. I looked at him one last time, still puzzled. My heart and eyes and lungs felt heavy.
*Let go, child.*
Yes, I have to let it go.
*Let it be. Quiet your unpleasant feelings. Meditate. Come back to us.*
Okay. I’m giving up on Jay. I just had to try one more time.
I’m coming home now.
| 2020-10-10T21:18:28 | 2020-10-10T20:22:18 | 447 | 114 |
[WP] You are a captured spy. Write a letter from prison where putting the first words of every sentence together reveals something beyond the apparent message.
Just a thought I had on the bus.
|
They got me. Think it might have been the cameras outside the embassy. I'm not too surprised. The arrest seemed inevitable. Spy work gets messy, and sometimes, you get caught.
I figured you'll break it off. Didn't you say if I kept any more secrets we'd be through? Tell me over and over to get a decent job? Them guys from my last contract called me and I never told you about it. It was too tempting to turn down. Was supposed to be a simple job. Actually, I thought it was going to be the last one. You would probably tell me that's a lame excuse.
I wish I could take it all back. Love isn't enough, sometimes. You live an open and kind life, and don't want a man with secrets.
The best advice I have is to move away and forget I ever existed. Lie if anyone asks if you're married. Was your college roommate able to buy that split-level in Bakersfield? Worth Road and Main, if I remember right? Saving up for your own place will take too long. Your best bet is to move in with her for a while. Life will be easier without me in it.
|
Sir,
I never expected to end up here, locked in a cell in the Kaminski’s prison. Know this: They mean what they say. What might seem like an empty threat is anything but. You should know that, though, as the head of our intelligence division. Did you have any idea about the secret force they had waiting for me?
I know you would have taken every precaution to protect the squad if you had. Will you answer to their demands now, whether I live or die? Take my words to heart: much more is at stake here than just my life or just this battle. You know as well as I do what we thought this mission would be, but now is the time to be cautious, to do what's right. Down the road, this could be a turning point where one mistake will end your life, like this one. I’m expecting you to do the right thing. Coming from someone as *honorable* as you, I know my life is a drop in the bucket, and you will do the right thing, even if you never see me again.
WC
----
-020
| 2014-01-20T19:20:51 | 2014-01-20T19:03:00 | 28 | 11 |
[WP] Magic has been outlawed, and there is a VERY high bounty for magic-users. You are the world's greatest Bounty Hunter. The secret to your success: You're also the world's greatest Wizard
|
I hate myself.
You ever hear people say that? Yeah, you probably have. Self-loathing has become pretty popular on the internet these days. People plaster statements like that across their twitter accounts. And why? Are they looking for sympathy? agreement? a shared bond with strangers? I don't know. All I can say is, for the vast majority of them, it's little more than a fashion statement. They don't really know what it means. They don't what it really feels like. Not like I do.
I hate myself. I truly do. But you'll never find me posting it all over social media, even though my *reason* for hating myself is a lot better than all of their's. Actually, you'll never find me posting on social media at all.
I'm a ghost. I don't exist. I live alone and have no friends or family or social contacts. It is a necessity that comes with the job; not that I mind it.
I'm a bounty hunter. The world's best bounty hunter. I offer my services to government agencies and wealthy individuals, and I *always* get my man.
I'm paid *very* well. I won't even look at a contract with less than six zeroes in the reward column. And there's good reason for that too. I'm no run-of-the-mill, mullet sporting, tobacco chewing, class A pistol permit carrying, weekend warrior bounty hunter. I'm the real deal, and I have a... *specialization* which allows me to command such high wages for my labor.
I hunt-magic users. And I'm very, *very* good at it. The best. Some would say, *supernaturally* good at it.
Take my last mark for instance. Homeless guy running around calling himself Warlock Harry. No joke, that's what he *really* called himself. Guy was off his rocker, but he was dangerous. People who use magic in the public eye always are; either because of how confident they are in their abilities, or because of how insane they are. I usually prefer the former, because I always know something they don't, but Warlock Harry was the latter.
He was running around town in an old-fashioned wizard's cap and robe--like the one Mickey Mouse wore in the Sorcerer's Apprentice segment of that old Fantasia cartoon--and turning random people into animals. No rhyme or reason to it, no pattern, no particular group he was targeting. He just liked doing it. He’d run up and scream “WARLOCK HARRY” in their faces, smile, stroke his moldy beard, and then turn them into a frog, or a heron, or a water buffalo, or a friggin newt. And they never got better.
They sent the feds in, but they couldn’t catch him. Warlock Harry had a few loose magic beans rattling around in his skull, but he was powerful. He’d turn the agents into animals and then disappear through a magic portal.
So they called me in. Offered me 5 mil if I’d take care of him. I talked them up to 7.5. You never take the first offer. First rule of the magic-bounty hunting business-- basic supply and demand actually: there’s only one of me in existence.
Anyways, I found Warlock Harry on a street in Brooklyn. He was eating a corn dog and laughing to himself. A group of squirrels flocked around his feet, his latest victims I assumed. I walked right up to him. He looked at me, smiled, stroked his beard, aimed his wand at me.
And it snapped. Snapped right in half. He looked at it like it was a beloved pet that had just bit him. I walked up, punched in once in the jaw, and put him on his ass and out of commission. Easiest 7.5 million dollars I ever made.
That’s how most of my jobs go. Some bizarre, outlandish coincidence occurs right at a pivotal moment and allows me to capture these magic users, whether stupid or sophisticated, through sheer dumb luck. No one can figure out how I’ve lived so long and been so successful. The other bounty hunters are always complaining about me. But I don’t mind, I just sit back and count the dough.
My life sounds pretty sweet right? So then why do I hate myself?
Because I have a secret.
There are no coincidences, no dumb luck. I’m the best in the world at catching magic users because I *am* a magic user. The greatest of them. I’m the most powerful wizard in existence. That’s my secret. A secret that burns my soul and rots in my very core. I’ve made a living, a very good living, killing and capturing people who are just like me. My own kind. My people. I love the life I have, but I hate how I earn it. I wonder all the time why I do it. Sometimes I see their faces at night. Sometimes I think I can’t go on, the pain is too much, and it eats me up inside, and I truly, utterly, and completely hate myself.
...but then I wake up in my mansion. You should see how many channels my TV gets.
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Wizards are always stronger if they're given time to prepare. That's just a fact of life.
What most people fail to realize is that a wizard's greatest asset is also his largest weakness; habit.
You see, wizards have to undergo absurd mental training in order to master their craft. As a result habits form which make casting easier, like muscle memory for your brain.
As a child I attended a school for those gifted with the power of magic. It was quickly apparent that I hardly qualified to be there as the magical circuits running through my body leaked. I could never build power for spells because my body would just leak it back out; leaving me exhausted.
The bullying started during my second year at the institution. At first I just shouldered it and pressed on but as the days stretched to weeks I decided I'd had enough and quit. Continuing my study by myself.
5 years ago the international government outlawed any form of magic and on that day I decided I'd become a bounty hunter for these new fugitives and repay the bullies' kindness to me.
This most recent bounty was one I'd been waiting for way too long. Somebody had finally found Tiberius, the teacher who'd promoted bullying against me, he'd viewed me as a mistake from the day I'd set foot in his class. It was going to feel so nice bringing him in.
I sat down in my government issued black sedan and began driving slowly towards Tiberius' 3 bed 2.5 bath stronghold. I read over the files as I drove through the city; turns out the tip came from a young child who'd lost his toy down a storm drain... supposedly Tiberius pulled the toy from the drain with a retrieval spell. Always good to see the youth taking concern with national security.
I munch down on a bagel as I passed the Ministry of Factual Information office building with its new anti-magic posters. "Magic spells, disaster." They proclaimed in dark red lettering.
A half an hour later I pulled up to the curb by 350 Pentacle Ln. and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I adorned my hat, dark glasses, and straightened my suit taking extra care to prominently feature the Golden Eagle emblazoned in my front pocket. After a few moments of checking equipment I stepped towards the door.
The first defensive ward was in the front lawn, nothing lethal but enough to scare away any michevious kids. I dodged the shower of rocks as they sailed overhead. My lip curled up, he was a soft one, what happened to the cruelty I saw in him? The next few wards were just as trivial as the first I didn't even bother to disarm them. As I stepped up to the front door I paused, looking over the small unassuming house with its' white shutters, freshly cut lawn, and small flower garden. It looked like a respectable home, no wonder it took so long for the Safety and Security commission to find him. I knocked on the door and it swung open automatically.
I rolled my neck, put my right hand on my holster and stepped through the door.
"Safety commission, is anybody home?"
No sooner had I finished that statement than I felt another ward trigger. This one was far more hostile so I dispelled it.
You see, the one benefit of leaking magical circuits is that you can redirect any amount of magical force safely. It hardly takes any effort for me by now, I've encountered so many wizards, seen so many spells and habits that no wizard can surprise me anymore.
I raise my left hand above my head and snap my fingers, absorbing the newly formed fireball and throwing it out the door harmlessly.
A voice cuts through the dim lighting "Impossible!"
It's always cute to hear the shock in their voices.
I quickly dash forward and grapple Tiberius before he can get off another spell. It only takes me a few moments to slam him to the ground and tie his arms behind his back. Now bound, I hoist him up to his knees.
"Hello again Tiberius. Been a while hasn't it?"
Confusion flickered across his face and then recognition.
"Aaron?" He breathed softly.
"The one and only!" I replied, flourishing a bow.
His face went through several stages of grief before he managed a reply, "How many great wizards have you killed?"
I mimed counting on my hands for a few moments, "Probably several hundred. Though none of them are as great as me."
He shook his head, "Did I plant this darkness inside of you? Am I the cause of our demise?"
That statement struck something in me and it made me uncomfortable. "The one with darkness in them is you Tiberius." I gritted my teeth and drew my revolver. "I am protecting the world from that darkness."
His eyes met mine, full of tears, "I'm so sorry Aaron. I hope you can forgive me someday." And then his lids closed forever.
I walked out of the house, another one down, another demon killed. I should be proud, but the more I kill, the more faces I see when I close my eyes. My cause is just...my cause is just.
I start the car. My cause is just.
I am the greatest wizard, and I will continue to hunt them.
| 2018-04-07T12:22:00 | 2018-04-07T10:59:23 | 61 | 16 |
[WP] Death gave you immortality with the plan that you'd realize how awful it is and beg him to let you die. 50,000 years later he's getting annoyed as you continue to have fun and live a wonderful life.
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"Death, my existence has turned into suffering," I said. "My very bones ache, my skin is weathered. My body became nothing but a green leaf shriveling in autumn's time."
Death chuckled like a five year old, hiting his ball joint as he crouched slightly. "Immortality, a game only a few can play Darren," he said. "If you please, I can end your suffering with a single swing of my scythe."
I grabbed him by the clavicle, "Death, I have something to confess."
He cocked his skull, "are you afraid of the pain my scythe will provoke to your soul?"
I shook my head, "no, it's much worse."
He clinked his fingers against his mandible, as if thinking. "Are you afraid of Hell? You know it doesn't exist, right?"
"I'm not afraid of those mundane things Death, I'm not afraid at all," I said, locking my gaze in his hollowness. "I love you Death."
He hesitated, words dying on his trachea. "Y-you lo-love me?" he stammered.
I nodded, "as deeply as the void of your existence."
"Darren, I swear, together we can make eternity bareable," Death said with a grin and hugged me.
I burst into laughter, "did you believe me, you pervert? What is this called, humanphilia?"
Death hesitated once again, "what are you implying Darren? You weren't lying I smelled the scent of your soul, it was pure!"
"Death, it's been 50000 years. I know all your secrets, maybe you should learn what April fools day is," I said and patted his spine. "You are weird old friend but you blessed me. I will be in Bora Bora if you need anything."
"Motherf—"
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/r/therobertfall for more not so great stories
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The longer I observe his life...The angrier I seem. 50,000 years ago I tried to perform a little experiment, I would turn a mortal immortal, and allow him to see first hand the suffering immortality brings you- I was eagerly anticipating seeing him break down as he lives longer than all his friends- as he watches his children die of old age in front of him, seeing him snap until he comes to me and begs for my sweet embrace. Yet today he is still happy, he has another family and is constantly surprised by all of the new inventions he's able to see humankind create. For the past 1,000..or was it 10,000? It's been so long I have trouble keeping track of time, time begins to lose meaning when you've been alive for so long. What was I saying again? Ah yes- I stopped paying attention to him for the past 10,000 years, I got too envious. How could this man still be happy?! He's witnessed generations of his family die out, he's witnessed thousands of friends die. Although...This might not be too bad, this man may be the perfect candidate for my replacement. A thousand years after I was offered immortality a long time ago by the Death of my era, I came begging to him for release so we made a deal, I would serve as the new Death but I can choose when to move on as long as I find a suitable replacement. If this fool still enjoys his immortality, he may like this job a lot more than I do- After all I've been doing this for far too long. I don't even remember what it feels like to be mortal. Lets see if this fool still enjoys immortality after he becomes the Grim Reaper. Maybe I'll finally be able to laugh at him from beyond the grave as he realizes what a mistake he made. (First time doing this, I hope I did OK.)
| 2017-11-29T12:47:04 | 2017-11-28T15:48:47 | 149 | 12 |
[WP] "They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?" you say as you whacked the ghost again.
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As I made it to the driveway, Caroline appeared behind the screen door. "Salt? Why would the salt make a difference?" she asked. She knotted her hair into a bun on top of her head. "How is that any better than the bat by itself?" Her nose scrunched up like a rabbit's when she was confused.
"Puns." I shouted back, loading the salt-covered bat and rucksack into the bed of the truck.
Caroline was even more befuddled now. I love that woman, but she isn't exactly the brightest bulb.The comedy writers who govern our universe went overboard sometimes. The logic is still a bit hazy to some, but it immediately made sense to me.
Stepping back out onto the porch, Caroline held her hand up to shield her eyes from the low sun. "Puns? I don't follow." She had to holler the last word, interrupted as I fired up the engine.
I backed out of the driveway, shifted into drive, and carved a wide half-circle to meet her gaze from the street.
I took a long breath before replying, drinking in the sight of her. I wasn't sure if I'd make it back. "Yeah. Puns. Ghosts can't defend against them. It's not just *bat-tery*. That might not be enough. This way, they won't survive being *a-salted* ".
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My arms throbbed. All I could see was shattered glass and torn wallpaper, and it didn’t matter where I looked. And then I closed my eyes, and the sound of ghosts flooded my senses.
​
My hands felt rough. I plucked the opened bottle of glue from the carpet and quickly examined the label. The words moved and became blurred as I read them. Tossing the bottle aside, I stumbled through a sea of salt and glass and made my way outside.
​
The light hurt my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two green pills. I felt confused.
​
“Good Morning!” A distant voice exclaimed. “I heard a commotion coming from your room just now. Is everything okay?” She sounded concerned.
​
“Yes, everything is fine.” I said this to her plainly. I walked back inside and I instinctively dry swallowed the pills in my hand. I sat down on an overturned piece of furniture and closed my eyes.
​
All I could feel was my arms throb. I closed my eyes and felt calmer. “That’s better,” I said to myself softly.
| 2020-10-05T00:36:52 | 2020-10-04T20:04:53 | 91 | 14 |
[WP] Your pointless superpower is that you know how many people’s lives you save with your actions. One day, at a Subway, you tell the cashier you want your sandwich on Italian bread, and you’re suddenly informed that you just saved five billion people.
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"I'd like a club on Italian herbs and cheese, please." Dan says.
This is his usual order. In fact, Dan comes to this Subway on his lunch break, orders the same sandwich, and return to his desk to eat every day like clockwork. Dan is a predictable kind of guy, and he doesn't mind it; and knowing that he's unintentionally saved a few people throughout his mundane routine is kind of cool.
"Of course sir," says the sandwich artist. She turns to the bread cabinet, but ends up grabbing a loaf of Italian instead.
"Whatever," thinks Dan "It's not worth mentioning. Italian is close enough."
Suddenly, Dan feels his save count skyrocket. It takes a moment for the exact number to register.
Five billion and eleven saved.
"What the fuck, how is that even possible?" he mutters under his breath.
"I'm sorry," The Subway worker looked up from the sandwich, "Is there a problem?"
"Oh, no, it's nothing. Just thinking is all. Um, could I get that sub plain? I'm in a bit of a rush."
Dan pays, and hurriedly leaves the store. His mind is a flurry of fear and nervous excitement. What could this mean? How could such a small decision, a simple sandwich order, change so many lives?"
On his walk back to work, Dan pays close attention to the world around him, looking for some sort of sign to show him how this would all come together.
Dan makes it back to his desk without incident. Somewhat disappointed, he eats his sandwich. That day, and several more pass with no obvious hint as to how Dan has saved so many people.
Three weeks later, Dan is found dead.
An autopsy reveals that Dan had a rare, deadly form of fungal infection. Fungal spores had entered his bloodstream, and after dismissing his symptoms as the flu, Dan took a day off to rest. He passed away in his sleep that night. Additional deaths and further investigation linked this fungus to the bread served at the Subway he regularly visited.
More interesting, however, were other discoveries made from Dan's autopsy. Dan's cells had an incredible capacity for autophagy. Based on his cells alone, Dan would appear to be half his actual age.
This revelation paved the way for medical progress. Degenerative disease treatment improved, and these conditions were eventually cured altogether.
The number of people that Dan saved with the cure derived from his cells was enormous.
Some might say billions.
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Anger. It's always been a problem of mine. I knew from an early age when I hurt a school kid for no reason than his glasses made him look funny.
In the military i was kicked out before graduating boot, and that was okay with me. I hated rules. My dad had left me more money than i could ever spend, and it made me even more money without me doing a damn thing.
My first wife left after my anger lead my fists to her face, i shouldn't have done that. But I did, and oh well.
As i started mingling with the businessmen from my dad's company, i found that my anger made me stronger and them weaker. They couldn't handle it, and they loved me for it. I was tough talking, mean, and i got shit done.
The funny part is, since i was a kid I'd known i was a hero. Every action i took created a sensation in my head along with a number. I could see when an action saved lives, or by default took them. It made me even angrier, and somehow even stronger.
I didn't trust prepared food unless it was made on the spot. And now it was even more important for me to watch out for dangerous food. I had won the election against that stupid woman who called my supporters mean names. And now, now i was about to make Russia, North Korea, and everyone else bow to my wishes. I was going to be more than President, i was going to rule this whole fucking planet.
The subway subs really hit the spot for me, yet this one pissed me off. I didn't have time to go to another one and yet this one didnt have my four cheese bread. "Give me fucking italian bread then you jackass, and I'm going to make sure youre investigated for messing with my food!"
The italian bread was dryer than normal and in my rage I'd forgotten to chew right. The men under my employ tried to save me, but all they did was lodge it further in my throat and kick up a coughing fit. the air stopped coming, and i felt the signature tingle of my gift.
As i started to fade i felt the number enter my head. 5 billion....that had to be made up! Fake! I tried to shout, and the darkness took over.
| 2018-11-17T19:42:29 | 2018-11-17T18:54:59 | 166 | 51 |
[FF] A 10-word-long sentence. Then, a 9-word sentence. An 8-word-long one after. This continues, until the final sentence of 1 word. Try to choose a theme befitting of the structure
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Looking in the mirror, I puffed my chest out arrogantly.
I flexed, and admired the aesthetics of my physique.
Vascular arms, the chiseled abs, and V taper.
And then my eyes stopped short, shocked.
I trembled as the realization dawned.
I've made a huge mistake.
How did this happen?
I skipped it.
Leg Day.
Again.
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Honestly, you were never a decent person to begin with.
Even in your final moments, I doubt you'll understand.
Though, I suppose it doesn't really matter now.
In a few seconds, you'll be dead.
People will always forget the man.
But his crimes still remain.
That, they never forget.
But *you,* though?
I'll remember.
Always.
| 2015-01-05T22:38:49 | 2015-01-05T21:57:47 | 1,258 | 18 |
[WP] Life on Earth evolved within an “FTL Dead Zone” a region of space where all known forms of FTL travel were deemed physically impossible. As such, it was quite a shock when an unknown species suddenly appeared from the Dead Zone one day calling themselves “Humanity” Having done the impossible...
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Writing this on my phone at work, apologies for any mistakes.
A lovely person (u/blu_ski) has narrated this story: https://youtu.be/ozrQ-fu6nV0
And another lovely person! (u/Spartawolf): https://youtu.be/WjN13TVf238
___________________________________________________
The Atrium was abuzz with chatter, many languages and strange sounds all fighting for dominance, to be heard. The cacophony echoed around the large chamber, resident to the many hundreds of species positioned in boxes adorning the walls. In the centre was a group of 5 astronauts, each looking particularly overwhelmed.
At the sound of a loud bang, the chatter stopped. The representative of the Unified Galactic Systems placed their gavel aside, and spoke:
"Beings from the Dead Zone. We apologise for bringing you here so soon after first contact, but there is much to discuss. Are you aware of the feat you have accomplished?"
Four of the astronauts looked to the fifth, their Commander, who stepped forward.
"Respectfully..."
"You may address me as Speaker."
"...Speaker. There are many feats we have achieved today. First contact with not just one alien species, but an entire galactic community! We are also the first humans to leave our solar system, while simultaneously achieving the fastest speeds any human being has ever traveled before. To which are you referring?"
"We are, of course, referring to your craft. The method of travel in which you arrived here. It is... most peculiar."
"With all due respect, Speaker, surely your methods of faster than light travel are far superior to our own? Ours is but the first working iteration of our technology, after all."
"One would think so, but you see, you have emerged from a section of dead space. An area of the universe from which the usual laws of physics behave in constrained ways. Faster than light travel is simply not possible. Therefore we ask... how are you here?"
The astronauts appeared stunned, and turned to speak to each other. After a short period of time, the commander again stepped forward.
"My apologies, Speaker, but this explains a great many things. Namely, that we were never visited despite our many greetings broadcast into the cosmos. That we struggled to produce a system with the necessary power to propell us vast distances, despite the mathematics saying it was possible."
"Indeed, the dead zone acts as a speed barrier. The power required to pass this barrier would be astronomical, even for ourselves. So how did you do it?"
"We developed a drive that effectively... shifts us. Space is folded around the craft, then we are simply accelerated through the field. As space is folded around the craft, there is nothing to prohibit our acceleration, and no forces are acted upon the craft, allowing us to withstand the speeds."
This caused a stir among the species present, many voices called out, the automatic translators failing to keep up. The Speaker turned to their scientific advisors, of which each was entirely stunned by the sheer amount of science and mathematics required for such an achievement. The Speaker once again lifted the gravel and called for silence.
"How do you propel yourselves without the gravitational forces of space? How do you leave your planet without space to travel through?"
"Our vessels are powered by chemical rocket boosters, which launch us from our planet. The same principles apply in phase space, which can only be used in orbit to avoid warping our planet's own gravitational sphere. Each maneuver is calculated to make effective use of our fuel. Is this not true of the rest of the galaxy?"
With this the multitude of species could not remain silent, and the sounds of the many voices became entirely uncontrollable.
This marked the emergence of Humanity, a species of remarkable engineers, scientists and mathematicians the known galaxy had never seen before. For the galaxy in the living space had never had to produce such technologies, each achieving space flight as simply as they produced the wheel, never requiring the advanced mathematical equations Humanity had needed simply to reach their own moon.
Humanity had crawled from the depths of a dark, restricted space.
They had ventured down the road not travelled.
And they arrived in the light.
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"Our the cameras working", I question the aid.
"Yes sir", he snappily replies.
"How about the soldiers".
"Roughly 100 are in defensive positions surrounding the craft sir, in addition to over half a dozen marksmen teams and cannon support."
I smile tensely, "hopefully they will all be uneeded", I exhaled audibly, "but I have my doubts". The craft was absolutely massive, and it's propulsion system revealed a savage violence yet elegance that frightened and intrigued me. Clearly this species had a thought process that was very unique, of course they would have to have to do what they did.
My mind still balked inadvertently at the mere thought of what these beings had done. Something that all my life had been known as impossible was suddenly possible, our entire understanding of the universes inner workings had just been thrust up into the air by this giant vessel, and I was about to meet it's inhabitants.
"We're ready whenever you are Major", the aid says, "all systems are go and command has authorized first contact".
"What are these things Lieutenant?", I question, still transfixed by the view outside of the two inch thick glass.
"No idea sir, current guess is 5 paracks tall and carbon based, but the scientific community is still divided", he read off his monitor.
I slowly shook my head, it's not what I meant but the response would have to do. "Well Lieutenant, let's find out for once and for all", I say as I press the door button. The aide stood as the door hissed open, his hand resting on his sidearm.
"Like that will do much good against things that can break out of an FTL dead zone", I say with grim joviality. As if on cue the door seals break with a hiss at the end of my statement. Carefully we begin to cross the 100 paracks separating us and the craft, with each step my heart seems to beat louder, and with each beat another droplet of sweat stings my brow.
What if I open the doors and the whole thing blows up, what if it takes off the second I step inside, what if...
"Ready the airlock", my aides words snap me out of my spiraling thoughts as we draw closer to the behemoth. Two soldiers open the twin doors of the airlock and greet us with salutes, ones that my aide returns for us as we continue our trajectory towards the laws of physics breaking ship.
I don't break stride until the doors shut behind us, and two lockers automatically open to reveal pressurized suits. Carefully we slip them on, "who knows what these things breath", my aide laments right before he slips on his mask.
"If they even do at all", I reply before slipping mine into place.
The device seals with a hiss and a voice chirps in my ear, "all operatives geared up, enter at your ready. You have 35 minutes of air time major". The Lieutenant, having heard the same message, clips on his gun belt before flashing me a confirmation sign.
Taking a deep breath of filtered air, I reply in kind and turn towards the second door. I watch my trembling hand as it reaches out and presses the button, which flashes a deep red before the doors release and begin to slide apart. Before us stands the ship, what is apparently door, slightly taller and narrower than our own sits inside the grey metal.
Slowly striding up to it, I feel my mouth go dry in sharp contrast to the sweat covering the rest of my body. Stopping a few feet away from the hull I raise my finger to the side of my helmet. "Command, team is about to make contact. Please alert surrounding units."
Static greets me for a moment until finally, "units informed, make contact when ready".
Glancing at the Lieutenant, he flashes confirmation as his hand again finds the grip of his sidearm. "Commander we are about to make contact"
| 2021-01-09T11:57:45 | 2021-01-09T11:22:32 | 2,685 | 105 |
[WP] A man goes back in time with a computer. He kicks open the door to the Constitutional Convention, right as they are finalizing the constitution. The man shows the founding fathers a series of videos explaining American history from 1790 to today. After the videos are done, Madison stands up....
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A man goes back in time with a computer. He kicks open the door to the Constitutional Convention, right as they are finalizing the constitution. The man shows the founding fathers a series of videos explaining American history from 1790 to today. After the videos are done, Madison stands up....
... and a slow, crawling smirk stretches from the corner of his lip to his gleaming eye.
The traveler's eyes widened as the horrible realization dawned upon him. He reached for the small, emergency firearm Corp personnel are issued, but it was too late. Madison was too quick.
The traveler awoke in a dark, candle-lit room. He was bound tightly to a sturdy wooden chair. He suspected this was the slave quarters, perhaps one of Madison's own. Or perhaps...
The sound of loud hinges... a light crept into the dark room from behind him. Daylight. Only minutes had passed, the traveler realized. He craned his neck to see who had entered. "Malphoso, you're insane. You think the Time Corp won't find out about this?" he managed to utter. A familiar, hate-filled voice responded, "Mr. M wasn't the only traveler whose eyes have been opened, tool."
The traveler knew he wasn't getting back home alive. His own partner, presumed dead on a mission 4 post-relative years ago, had joined Malphoso. But if Malphoso was actually Madison....
The face of George Washington peered eerily just inside the traveler's peripheral vision. "Boo!" the future then-first president screamed insanely. The startled traveler hissed, "bastard! You were the father of our nation?!"
Slowly, monstrously, the face of George Washington began laughing. The fevered laughter rose and rose then stopped suddenly. "You'll never guess who Lincoln is."
But the traveler had, in fact, already guessed. And it was bad. He had to stop him. He had to stop them all. But they had no doubt destroyed his warpgen bubble.
Washington was toying with the traveler now, poking him, slapping him, laughing in his face. Wait. Wait. Suddenly with furious strength and speed, the traveler lunged forth and rammed the top of his head into Washington's face. Some teeth embedded into the traveler's head. Some flew about in wild arcs. Washington staggered back, and with inhuman strength, the traveler pivoted and smashed the wooden chair into Washington, dazing him. Hurriedly, the traveler shimmied and squirmed until he found Washington's pocket knife. With bruised hand, he cut his bindings and freed himself.
Washington's bloody mouth groaned. The traveler elbowed him back into unconsciousness. Could Washington have been so insane as to carry his bubble with him? The traveler searched. Unbelievable luck! Hidden in Washington's boot was the small silver device that allowed the Corp to create miniature wormholes.
But there was a problem. The charge was down to 2%. No telling what the fool had been doing. But it would be enough. "Lincoln" would be the most dangerous, so he was the first target.
John Wilkes Booth, time traveler, set the device to the mid-1800's and pressed "go".
|
Frank finished his video presentation feeling quite proud that the founders would see the errors of their ways.
James Madison stands up. "Much of this was to be expected I suppose. But not for the reasons you believe. Take slavery. Jefferson, myself and Washington have repeatedly denounced it, yet your 'history' videos make it sound like we were its biggest champions. The 3/5ths clause IS bad, but if we do not adopt it the southern states will break away and continue to use slavery regardless."
"This future Bill of Rights is most interesting", Madison continues with a nod toward Jefferson, "but seems redundant by defending that which does not need defending, implies power that federal government should not have."
"True", said Jefferson. "But as you saw from the video this country really gets dumb in a hurry and needs some protections spelled out in simple language. A term I shall refer to as 'idiocracy'. What I'm most curious about is how this country keeps getting into conflicts without constitutional declaration of wars? You went to all this hard work to create this section in the constitution and nobody wants to use it?"
"As far as the Bill of Rights goes, it pains me to see how this will (or should I saw was) corrupted by the 14th amendment. It meant well...to apply the same protections afforded citizens from the Federal government, also to their state and local governments...but has totally bogged down your federal court system and needlessly complicated the federal government."
"I see with the 16th amendment, your citizens have totally ignored the warnings from Madison and myself regarding the dangers of fractional banking. You can not have a stable banking system that mismatches long term high yield assets and short term low yield liabilities. It is inherently unstable and using a central bank to prop this up has lead to inflation, depressions and/or bank runs."
Madison jumped in. "What disturbs me most is there does not seem to be any principal of limited powers afforded to your modern government. We went to great pains to delegate for example the power to establish the post office in the constitution but by your modern interpretation of the 'Commerce Clause' and 'General Welfare' clause you can do WHATEVER you want with the federal government as everything has either a commercial or welfare component including the post office."
Jefferson wrapped up the conversion. "There will always be injustice in the world. Just because we don't support the Federal Government as a tool to fix all such injustice, doesn't mean we support the injustice itself. One has to me mindful that for every problem the federal government fixes, it can create many more through its incredible concentration of power and dis-economies of scale. This is why it is important to stay out these endless wars/meddling overseas and to trust states to make the correct policies."
"It will be best that you be on your way", said Madison to Frank. "We have a lot of work to make this puppy even more idiot proof then it is now and shouldn't be pestered further."
| 2014-12-24T15:07:17 | 2014-12-24T14:48:03 | 74 | 24 |
[WP]Write a story about a supervillian who is unspeakably more powerful than anyone else on his planet, but is content with using it for small things like cutting in line or getting free extra servings.
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*Here lies the most dangerous man in the world.*
Arthur stared at his own gravestone, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His grave was nothing like the others. While everyone else had a single slab of rock, his was a towering black pillar. Golden words of all the laws he had broken were carved into it from top to bottom and on every side.
The second he had died and they had lowered what they assumed to be his body into the dirt, Grindstone Cemetery became less a cemetery and more a tourist attraction. People flocked from the far ends of the world to see the man who had singlehandedly brought down the most powerful nation on Earth. And what did their awe or terror look like? Dog-eared selfies. Candid Instagram photos. And the worse yet, obscene poses desecrating his memory.
Not that he cared.
"Hey," some college kid whispered to his friends. "The guards are gone."
"Alright, quick do it," his friend replied.
Arthur sighed and heard the distinct noise of a zipper going down and then the splash of water. He wondered if that kid thought he was the only one *bold* enough to ever think of such a thing. The water stopped with the sound of laughter. He quickly zipped back up.
With a single snap of his fingers, Arthur gave the zipper a little push and a yelp resounded from behind his grave followed by more of his friend's stupid laughter.
"It's caught in the zipper!"
"What the hell Brady? What are you, two?"
Arthur allowed himself his own laugh. He would need it today. He snapped a single flower off his bouquet and dropped it on the ground. Then, he left to his real destination.
---
It was at the opposite end of the cemetery, tucked away in a little corner. Originally, his grave had been right here too, but then the owners got greedy and put him front and center. The stone slab read:
*Here lies Elizabeth Marone, a girl taken too soon. 2000 - 2014.*
He clenched his fists. It never got any easier. He always thought that it would, but it never did. His throat dried so that every breath came raspy and burning. His lungs constricted so he could only breathe in stuttered breaths. And at last, he dropped his flowers.
He hated the words on her grave. Too soon was her having an iPhone at 13. Too soon was her first boyfriend in the 5th grade. This wasn't *too soon*, it was a travesty to the human race, God's laughing voice resounding from the heavens itself!
With a single twitch of a finger, the dust on the grave blew away.
Sometimes, he still felt the vibrations from when she would call him to pick her up after school. He didn't even have a phone anymore but he felt them.
"Daddy, are you here, yet?" she would ask.
"No, baby," he would reply. "I'm in traffic," he said as he always would.
"Well let me tell you..." and she would launch into the story of her day, exaggerated to the point of fiction. There would no longer be any room for his words, not until she finished her story.
Sometimes, he would put put the phone down to send a quick e-mail.
His nails dug into his palms until blood splurted out, joining the tears pouring onto the grounds. Why would he do that? Why the fuck would he do that?
When Elizabeth Marone first got admitted to the hospital, she had fantastic stories of all the ghosts wandering the halls. Arthur had took that as a good sign. If she could afford to have such energy and imagination, she would certainly be alright. But he soon found that her stories were for his benefit. They always have been.
Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease, they called it, or the Human Mad Cow. It was a neurodegenerative disease that within a year, left Elizabeth struggling to find the words for her stories. She would look at her dad, her eyes misty and her mouth making the motions, but no words would come out. The stories were in her head, he knew they were, but she had no way to tell them.
"I'm sorry Mr. Marone, we currently don't have a cure. If you would like to discuss options..."
"I don't want to talk about your fucking options!" Arthur had screamed at the doctor. "Why don't you have a god damn cure?"
"Well sir, this is just too rare of a disease..."
And in that moment, The Mad King was born. It was the name he gave to the tiny voice in his head that had always asked him to do more with his powers. Stop a robbery. Rescue some people from a burning building. Prevent a car crash. He only listened to it sometimes as he didn't want his powers interfering with his daughter's normal life, but now it sang a different tune--save Elizabeth, no matter what.
"Too rare you say?" he had responded, laughing just like The Mad King would laugh. "Too fucking rare you say?"
But the rest was simply history--the kidnapping of the President, the near collapse of America, the nuclear missiles trained at his head--simply history. In the end, they had found a cure, but not in time. Of course, in time to save the President of the United States, but not his daughter.
And when his daughter died, so did The Mad King.
He could do it again too--take everything. Anytime he wanted. He knew that everyday, his powers were growing stronger.
But what would be the point?
---
---
/r/jraywang for 2+ stories a day, continuations by popular demand, and more!
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A young man stood on a busy street corner, making eye contact with every single person who walked by. "Excuse me, would you like to make a donation to PlanetSavers?" he asked, or "You look like someone who cares about the Earth!" or "Good afternoon, do you have a minute to talk about securing humanity's future?"
Approaching him now, an attractive woman holding onto the arm of a rather less attractive man. Perfect, he could interrupt the date and get the guy to show off his generosity by donating to-
A moment later, he wasn't facing the street anymore. He was facing the building, as though he'd abruptly turned, but there was no reason he would do that. In the disoriented thirty seconds or so that he spent looking around, getting his bearings, and turning back toward the crowd, the promising couple had passed. He shook his head, and looked into the crowd, finding his next mark. "You seem like a conscientious person! Could I have a moment of your time?"
*********
"I still can't believe you got us a table at Aldo's... I tried to make a reservation for my birthday, but they told me they were booked out for two months! But we just met yesterday, there's no way you could've been planning this for two months," said Shirley. Her conversation was getting a bit repetitive, at this point, but Zack didn't mind. His plan was nearing its completion, so he wouldn't have to listen to her for much longer.
"I haven't been planning this for two months," he said, in a mock-exhausted tone of voice. "I just have great luck. Watch."
He stepped up to the curb, holding out a hand to signal a taxi. One stopped for him right away, and he held the door open for Shirley. "5 Riverside Lane, please," he said to the driver. "I've never understood why people use Uber. Too much waiting for the car to show up," he remarked to his date.
She shivered. Never before had she been with a man who just seemed to have everything go *right* for him. And Riverside Lane... that was the *rich* part of town. Single-digit house numbers rich. Might-get-there-in-a-limo-next-time-if-she-plays-her-cards-right rich. "Remind me what you do for a living?" she asked.
"Efficiency modeling," he remarked, sounding uninterested in the question.
Shirley suspected that that was a euphemism, that he went into offices and fired long-time loyal employees as a cost-cutting measure. It was the kind of job she should have moral objections to, but when she weighed those morals against her desire for a nice house, for a lifestyle that couldn't be supported on an ethical person's salary, she decided she was willing to sell out. For what Zack could offer, she would accept a great deal of moral compromise.
When he didn't elaborate, or say anything further, she tried to keep the conversation going. "And when did you move to this area?"
He looked at her with that inscrutable gaze of his. She hoped it was his method of concealing his burning desire, because otherwise, it just made him seem like he was on the spectrum. Shirley much preferred dealing with people who were neurotypical. "I've lived here all my life," he said, not dropping his gaze. "Not in the same house, mind, but in the same town."
"How odd that we've never met before today!" she remarked with a giggle.
Zack didn't reply. He just kept gazing at her. What was up with that gaze? She would have to fix that. On the next date, though. After she'd had time to cement her good impression on him.
The taxi pulled up at the end of a long driveway, leading to a house that Shirley recognized. When she was a kid, anytime the school bus drove by here, she'd tell everyone that this was the house she wanted to live in, one day. "It's almost like fate," she muttered under her breath.
That damn gaze was only dropped when Zack got out of the taxi. Shirley was about to follow when he abruptly closed the door behind himself. He was standing too close for her to open it again, so she rolled down the window. "I'm... still in here," she pointed out. "Kind of stuck."
When Zack looked at her again, his expression had changed. Shirley didn't understand it any better, but she recognized it... a smile, a... a *victorious* smile. "Oh, did you think you were coming home with me?"
"Well, I..." She didn't know what to say. What was going *on* here?
Zack leaned down, close enough for their noses to almost touch. Shirley tilted her head slightly, anticipating a kiss that never arrived. "Now I'm doing to you what you did to me in high school." Straightening up, he said to the driver, "Take her away."
The taxi pulled out into the street again, leaving Shirley baffled and devastated and unable to figure out a response as the driver kept asking, "What address, Miss?"
Zack returned to the house he'd borrowed for the evening. Everything had gone exactly as he imagined it. Even... no. Dammit! He'd *totally* made the taxi meter malfunction out of habit. He'd really been looking forward to sticking Shirley with the bill. Ah, well. At least he'd made her suffer emotionally.
| 2017-05-16T06:12:25 | 2017-05-16T05:30:27 | 3,498 | 196 |
[WP] You're the most powerful villian in the world. Formerly. Now you run a bar, that works as a neutral zone for heros and Villians alike. One day, a hotshot hero tries to arrest you.
|
Sometimes, the past comes to haunt you.
Everyone makes mistakes. You rob a convenience store one day because you’re hungry, and a week later you’re robbing a bank for the thrill. A little later you decide to take on some help. *You* never called them minions... things have a way of getting out of hand.
Still, that was a long time ago. Eventually it stopped being fun, and you talked to the heroes, told them you were done. They’d come by to check, you’d give them a drink... one thing lead to another, and now you traffic in booze...
I shook my head. The story I tell myself of how I got here. I never totally understood it, myself. Still, there were customers to serve, and today was no different.
It was absolutely absurd to look at the patrons. Everyone in crazy getups, bitter rivals drinking together, knowing that outside they might try and kill each other. I looked to a few of the staff. People who’d gotten out of the game like me. The speech helped them as much as it helped me.
Today was a tiny bit slow, but it’d pick up. I was washing out a mug when some kid in a leather jacket came in. I looked at him and said, “Damn. You must be one of those 90’s heroes.” I poured him a whiskey sour, but then he took off his jacket, revealing a sleek, modern suit.
I stared at him and said, “It’s $13 for the drink.”
His response terrified me.
“Foul villain! I’ve come to bring you into the powerful arms of **Justice!**” It was incredible. You could hear how emphatic justice was. Like one of those crazy panels from a comic book that said “Bam!”
I said, with some well reasoned fear, “Look, buddy, take the drink on the house. You don’t wanna do this. It’s not sa—“
“Your threats won’t work on me!” he boomed. And that’s when he made the worst mistake of his life. He grabbed me.
Everything happened so fast, but for me it was all in slow motion. Two glasses clinked just slightly too hard. A small shard flew off, and struck the hero in the eye. Someone’s bottle fell over, rolled around, and the hero slipped on it. He stumbled onto a chair, but it gave way, and he fell onto one of the legs. It stabbed him, but he was tough; still, he staggered back, reeling from at least genuine discomfort, if not true pain. He reeled into the door swinging open, and he took it to the head.
I sighed. “You better go check on your family, pal. You grabbed me pretty rough. I never had much control over my power, so they could be in real trouble. I hope not... but only you know what you were doing.”
I dusted myself off. A few veterans helped the guy to his feet (and had a few choice words with him), and then the night went on. More drinks to sell.
|
Connor burst onto the scene with textbook heroism, rushing through the front door of my little establishment. He shouted a few trademark lines, to which my customers reacted with chuckles and cringes. When he saw me, he shouted about me finally facing justice. I had. And they decided I was impossible. Why did the new ones always shout?
"Yuna," I said, "please explain to the man."
"Yes, sir," she said, giving a drink to Louis--he was three glasses in, his wife would be upset--right before heading over. The new hero watched her but remained silent. At least he had some ability to read the room. A few people had turned to watch. Almost everyone covered their ears.
Yuna held up her hand. "Eyes here."
Connor frowned. "Ma'am, what--"
Her hand whipped across his face faster than half a blink and with a crack like thunder. Staggering back, Connor's eyes glowed white. But then he stopped. "Why... doesn't it hurt?"
"Neutral zone. You leave the same way you walk in. Unless..." She looked at me.
"Unless I decide otherwise. Start a fight, Yuna slaps you again. Only you wake up at the hospital," I said. He stared at me like he hadn't read my file. "Sit down, Connor. You must have recognized some of the folks here, at least vaguely. Out there, we have to put on an... unfortunately black and white act for the public. But in here, nothing matters." I gestured to Albert and Bella sitting at a booth. They had both been watching. "Sunkeeper and Redwitch. Here, they're just Albert and Bella. Actually got married two years ago."
"We had to kinda do the rivalry thing, otherwise we don't get much time together. But, you know, we make it work," Albert said. He had so much confidence as Sunkeeper but could never channel it into his normal life. It had helped his identity stay secret, of course, and curiosity was the reason Bella approached him, but still.
"Gotta let go," Bella said to Connor, her voice carried by gentle charm rather than the venom she showed the public. "Most of that out there, it's theater. The stuff we blow up is insured. Nobody dies."
Connor looked shaken. There was something in him that didn't want to accept it. But it was plain to see if one simply looked at the lack of dead bodies and the faith in heroics. People needed to feel safe in a world where people could flick buildings to pieces. And the real threats? Well, they had Trackers for that. The real muscle was sent in when the madmen tried to step out of the fringes. I didn't miss that. Too much traveling.
"Sit down, order a drink--or lunch, Caroline is an excellent chef--and relax," I said. "Here, the outside world doesn't exist."
| 2020-10-10T01:13:01 | 2020-10-10T00:59:21 | 37 | 17 |
[WP]You receive a message, "Reply Yes if you can survive the last video game you played." You answer Yes. Your vision blanks and you open your eyes finding that you are at the beginning of said game. You hear a voice "To leave you must win. Your prize is all you gain in this world. Good luck"
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*Reply yes if you can survive the last video game you played.*
Fuck.
He’d thought it a prank at first. Hell, who wouldn’t? Two in the morning, his brains were running on fumes after scrambling to finish an essay for the next morning’s class… and just when he had collapsed into his bed he saw the message.
He was a bit delirious from sleep deprivation, but he still did try to think about it. What was the last thing he’d played…? It had been… shit, he couldn’t recall, but he knew it had been something calming, with a group of friends to relax before doing his essay. Either way, he chuckled and hit yes, still thinking it a prank message from a friend, before sleep took him.
It felt like he’d only slept for a few minutes, but of course, that’s what it always felt like. He sighed as he slowly felt himself wake, and he turned over, wanting a few more moments of sleep. He then frowned, his bed feeling much too rough beneath him.
He opened his eyes and saw grass. It took his brain several seconds to process, but he slowly got up, a yawn forcing itself out of his mouth as he took in his surroundings. Trees, grass, an ocean, and in the distance mountains. The sun was in the middle of the sky, telling him it was noon. He slowly got up, and panic set in. Where was he?! What the hell was going on?!
There was no sign of civilization anywhere! There was just endless, endless nature!
He took a breath, clenching his fists. Okay… okay, okay, okay. Calm down. Nothing will get done if you don’t calm down. He licked his lips and began walking, looking for something, anything, to give him a sign of what was going on. Thankfully he was still wearing his clothes, having not changed out of them the night before.
After a few minutes of walking he found a cave leading deep into the earth, the sunlight filtering through the trees not able to illuminate the depths. What gave him hope, however, was the chest next to a tree nearby the cave. He scrambled to open it, hoping to find something to either aid or tell him what the hell was going on.
The only things within were a crude wooden axe, a similarly shoddy pickaxe, a brown backpack, and several sticks with cloth tied to one end, with sprinkles of black dust upon the cloth. Torches?
Unbidden, his mind flashed back to the text message he’d received. Was that...? No, it couldn’t be real… but…
Now fully awake, he could recall what game he’d last played. Normally it would have been something exciting, an RPG, maybe a shooter… no, his friends had gotten him to play a dumb survival game… but with several mods and shaders to make it hyperrealistic.
A groan echoed from the cave, and he slowly turned to see a dead man exit. Green, rotting flesh that hung from cracked and putrid bones, lifeless, maggot filled eyes gazed at him, grey matter peeking from holes in his skull. The dead man shuffled forward, trying its best to avoid the sunlight that reached through the tree branches, reaching out to him while gurgling. He swallowed hard, shaking in his boots as he grabbed the axe, readying it.
His friends had gotten him to play goddamn Minecraft.
The zombie accidentally moved into a ray of light, and groaned as it was lit on fire. He took the opportunity, yelling as he brought the axe down. One of the zombie’s arms was removed with a shower of blood and gore, thought it took more force than he’d thought it would and had to swing again, and it stumbled back, falling fully into the sunlight where it baked alive.
He breathed heavily as he watched, hands slipping slightly on the axe handle as he began to sweat. This was… fuck. He suddenly jerked and gasped as something began whispering on the inside of
his brain.
*“To leave you must win. Your prize is all you gain in this world. Good luck.”*
He began shaking. The hell… was this just some kind of sick game to that voice or what?! He turned back to the cave as more growls sounded out, though thankfully they seemed to be further in, and not approaching. He licked his lips once more, turning back to the chest that held the few meager supplies he’d found. If it was a game to that voice… fuck, it didn’t matter. He just needed to survive, who cared if that thing was getting some sick enjoyment from it.
He shouldered the backpack, stuffed the torches into it, and grabbed the pickaxe. Alright… what the hell did he do first? Secure water, food, and shelter. His eyes drifted to the cave. Preferably before sundown. He swallowed, before walking away from the death trap that was the cave. Better get some better gear before risking that. He was going to survive… that reward sounded fantastic, he remembered finding diamonds and gold when he’d played with his friends the day before… but none of that would matter if he couldn’t survive the harsh trials that would be coming.
High above, the sun began to set…
()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()() ()()()
This was a really fun prompt! I might make this into a short series on my Fanfiction account, and if I do I’ll credit you for the idea!
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*Beagle's journal - Day 1*
I couldn't believe it at first—I refused to—but as the day wore on, as the sun warmed by body and the pain of hunger quickly became real, I had to accept my new reality.
This world. This beautiful, vast, dangerous world. I've visited it enough to know it well from a bird's eye view, but never long enough to say I'd conquered it—never had my colony actually survived.
The road is long, it will take years by in-game time to achieve the final goal, and one thought has followed me like death since I arrived here: who's deciding the events and what difficulty are they set to?
____
*Beagle's journal - Day 5*
As with the standard starting scenario, I've spawned with two fellow colony members. Bear is a massive fellow who seems comfortable with a rifle in hand, and he successfully defended our camp from two manic rats that seemed hell bent on devouring us all; though, it's become apparent that he has an unhealthy obsession with setting things on fire. I'll need to keep my eye on him.
My second companion goes by Greenly, and her skills with plants, preparing food, and training animals will be essential to our survival. I find her quite attractive, and I'm not sure how that makes me feel. Are these people real? Or are they simply pawns in this game I've been sucked into?
I've managed to build us a shelter using the wood Greenly provided by felling trees, and Bear assisted by digging into the mountain side. With a natural wall of granite at our backs, I feel that we will be safe from any threat.
Though it's still summer, the air is cooling fast, and in a few short months I believe these woods will be thick with snow. Our primary goal is to harvest enough rice to last the winter, and we'll need electricity to properly store it and, more crucially, to stay warm. Funny enough, when Bear isn't chewing up granite or shooting rabid animals, he's hunched over the crude research table figuring out how to propel us forward technologically—I just hope he doesn't set his notes on fire.
Everyone is getting testy with one another, but I'm nearly finished building a dining table and three chairs. I think having a proper place to eat will drastically improve our moods.
We had a cat, Morpheus. He was eaten by a wolf.
____
*Beagle's journal - Day 27*
An attack on our fort has left Bear a bit bloodied, but he'll survive. It turns out Greenly is well versed in medicine, which makes her all the more attractive to me. She mentioned the possibility of amputating Bear's injured leg and replacing it with a more efficient prosthetic, but noted that she lacks the skill and tools. The thought made me uneasy, I hope she doesn't bring it up again.
The attacker was a wild, nude women, and she managed to bite a decent bit out of Bear's calf. She used the boulders and trees as cover until she was within biting range, so I've begun clearing the area in front of our defensive point of debris. Bear gave her a couple of hits to the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking her unconscious, and I built a makeshift prison near our stockpile. I don't think she's worth the extra resources, but Greenly insists that if we nurse her back to health, she might have something to offer us as a colony. I trust her judgement.
Winter is nearly here, and we've managed a decent stockpile of rice. I've built electrical lines through the main lodge, but I'll have to wait until Bear is back up on his feet to continue; none of us can dig the steel from the mountain like he can. Once he's back at it, I'll have a few heaters going to keep warm.
_____
*Beagle's journal - Day 34*
Snow. It's falling silent and beautiful tonight, and with it comes the constant threat of death. The temperature has fallen dramatically, but we've prepared well.
With my heaters placed strategically throughout the fort, we're more than comfortable so long as we're not working out in the machine shop—I still don't have the steel to run lines out that far.
Our prisoner, Meica, has turned ally, and she's proven immediately useful. She has a knack for crafting clothing, using most of the hide we gathered early on from wild animals to fit us all with cozy parkas and beanies. I was right to trust Greenly, our strength grows with our numbers.
She and I have taken to playing chess for an hour before bed each night, and it's come to be my favorite part of the day. I built us two wolf-hide chairs to rest in as we play, and she joked that bits of Morpheus must be mixed into the cushions. She's got a dark sense of humor—I like that.
No chess tonight, though. We watched Bear and Meica build a snowman outside, nestled close together by a fire, comfy in our winter attire.
The granite wall I've been constructing around the compound is finished—double the thickness of our lodge's walls—and I feel safe inside with my friends.
It's nights like these that get me thinking... Maybe I don't need to win? Maybe I could stay here forever...
___
/r/BeagleTales
| 2020-02-16T20:40:09 | 2020-02-16T17:51:33 | 85 | 59 |
[WP] You are a human-like being, spawned in a nuclear explosion. You have a weapon, and have no idea what you're supposed to be doing here.
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"Who the fuck are you?" The dying soldier asked, looking at the humanoid creature as it stood in the middle of a crater.
"I don't know, ask dad." He pointed to the mushroom cloud that it was thrown out of.
"Wait, you-" Before the soldier could speak once more, he coughed out blood and bits of shrapnel on his hand. He looked at the mess of blood on his hand. "Ah... fuck. Guess it's my turn to be taken by death. Sorry mom..."
"Death? What is that?" The being spawned by the nuclear blast asked.
"..." The soldier stopped and looked at the being before responding, "You."
"Hm?" The being tilted it's head, confused.
The soldier continued, "You came from absolute death itself, yet survived." He pointed at the mushroom cloud. "What else could you be to brave the storm, than the storm itself?"
"I-I do not understand..."
"Your... 'father' as you call it, is the epitome of death, the thing that can cause, and end wars easily with it's sheer power, and yet from it came *cough* you."
"I do not even know if you *cough* even are alive, if you are real or just another reminder of my failures."
"But, if you even are alive, can you do something for me?"
"What do you need?" The being said.
"Once I am dead, make my body disappear."
"But why?"
"Look at me, too many shards of glass and metal are in me that my hopes of surviving this are essentially *cough* nil."
"I do not want her to cry seeing my dead body. I want to give my mother a fleeting hope that I'm still alive, even if it means deiceiving her."
The being went silent, then nodded. The man wasnt sure if it knew the meaning of what he said, but he smiled, right before passing away.
The being looked at the man's body before melting and consuming the man. The mass then slowly formed into the soldiers body, covered in black rocks and green crystals.
The being, now having a stable form, reached out to the mushroom cloud, before retracting his hand.
It did not know who it is, or was for that matter, but it knew that answers could be waiting for it.
Along with the man's body, the being inherited curiosity.
And so, the being went to his own journey, taking the man's weapon before he ventured.
|
'Caw! What's this thing her!?' Cried Mag, as she dug through the waste in her hazmat suit.
She pulled away a slice of sheet metal, revealing a strange bipedal figure. She let her automatic rifle hang down from her shoulder, as she pulled away some of the other junk around her find.
Mack turned up from wherever he'd been to help her.
'What is it?' He said.
'Dunno. Looks like a really fucked up person from the blast.'
'Yeah... makes me a little sick actually.'
The humanoid creature opened its eyes, to the shock of the armed and suited pair. They both raised their guns, two barrels to three eyes.
'Hold it!' Mag said.
The creature lay still, its long legs and flat feet didn't even twitch. It had an arm with regular although large hand, and another that formed a long barrel. It didn't speak english, but it did make noise.
'Wagalable.' It murmured.
Mag and Mack cocked an eyebrow.
'Ok, let's move back and let it stand up.' Mack said.
They backed away, their guns still ready on their target.
The creature, like a newborn fowl, clumsily rose to its feet. Its head and neck the same width, it looked left and right to its surroundings, and then turned its three eyes to its finders.
Its saviors.
'Wagalable.' It said, opening its arms in a friendly gesture.
Mag and Mack circled the creature to get a look at the rest of it.
'Wagalable.'
'Do you think it's friendly?' Mag asked.
'I have no idea what it is, but it aint human.'
They decided not to shoot it, and left it there on its own. They wandered off and kept searching the area for supplies, before setting up a small camp in an abandoned house. Mack set the gas stove and boiled some water, and Mag kept a lookout from the bathroom window. From afar she saw that creature again, wandering aimlessly. *Was it looking for us? Like a baby duckling?* she thought.
Suddenly, three mercenaries appeared and started harassing the creature. They attempted to kick it to the ground, possibly trying to tie it up and capture it. Then a shot fired from the things arm. A great blast Mag could see from her post, and the blood and body of one of the mercenaries being blown through.
| 2021-12-19T04:37:09 | 2021-12-19T04:21:36 | 33 | 17 |
[WP] The world is suddenly changed as toys start to work like their fictional counterparts. Toy lightsabers can now cut through metal. People with yu gi oh cards can send others to the shadow realm. Foam mjolnirs become impossible to lift and cosplayers get the abilities of the people they copy.
|
Panic. That was the word on every television, the sight on every face, the sound on every street. Every nerd with a sonic screwdriver could break their way into a bank. Ten dollars could buy you an arsenal from Dollar General big enough to make any idiot into a one-man army. A clever sociopath with a plastic Infinity Gauntlet could hold the nation hostage, and currently, there were seventeen locked in the plastic equivelant of a nuclear arm's race.
You could say that the world has always been like this. How many times has a computer from 1963 controlling a nuclear silo malfunctioned? What are the chances we could be incinerated by solar winds on any given day? When another asteroid the size of Mount Everest finally makes it's way toward us, what technology on this planet could hope to stop it?
No more need this planet lose sleep over the constant dread of infinite annihilation. This blessing will not go wasted.
I sit now upon my throne of gold, as the gleaming armor in the color of the sun, adorned with a crimson cloak, blazing eagles sat atop the pauldrons being fastened to my shoulders, is slowly lowered onto me. I grip my burning sword, and step out into the sun, and make my first decree: "Now begins the eternal reign of The God-Emperor of Mankind. Show the heretics no mercy."
My companions, my Space Marines, surely smile beneath their armor. I sense it, and I say, it is good.
|
"can you start taking responsibility like a real adult?" She yelled as she storm away. I am a gamer, a hard core, die hard gamer at least I think I am. Always dream to be one of those no damage souls player or professional gamer as I was a child but I just grow up to be one of those medicores. I met her in high school... "it was my pleasure" miphas voice pull me back to botw from the flashback and remember I was fighting a Lynel. I pause the game and pick up the hand made master sword." If only I have the spirit of the hero then I can be a hero instead of looking for boring jobs." I swing it a few times like link does and slice my finger in the process. "What the it shouldn't be that sharp" I proceed to inspect closely " it almost look like a real sword maybe all the toys became real? Nah a sword can't be that light." I said to myself as I inspect the sheikah slate. "It's freaking working... All the runes can be activated. If the sheikah slate can work then it means..." I turn towards my collections of merch ranging from the majora's mask, hylian shield, dins fire to fairy in a bottle. A brilliant idea come into my mind."I know what I'm going to do today"
| 2019-03-29T01:29:42 | 2019-03-28T23:46:45 | 43 | 11 |
[WP] Adrenaline is an evolutionary trait specific to Earth. When alien species are tired they sleep and not even a threat to their life will wake them. Which is why the pirates that boarded your spaceship are shocked to find you've not only jumped out of bed fully alert but are fighting back!
|
Jackson fell to his knees, blood pouring from his broken nose.
“You were supposed to be sleeping. What is this?”
“My ship... my...” Jackson struggled, trying to get the words out.
A beep distracted the pirate leader. He addressed his companions. “My vitals suggest I need to rest very soon. We must finish this up quickly. We’ve wasted too much time already.”
The men scattered, looking for any and all valuables. The leader, KiriK went down to one knee, bringing his scaly face down to their prisoner. “Human. I never thought I’d see one in real life. So tell me, how did you do it?”
Jackson looked at him weakly. “Adrenaline.” With that he passed out.
KiriK considered his options. They could leave the human here to die. When they were done with the ship, it would hardly be operational. But he was intrigued. Adrenaline? He needed to research a bit about this. This ability seemed extremely useful. If he could somehow harness it, he would be able to rule the whole district 9.
“Sir. We’re ready to leave.”
“Take him with you.”
“Sir?”
“Do as I say.”
*****
When Jackson woke up, his first thought was that he was dreaming. This wasn’t his ship. But the pain was real. He remembered the events of his ship. He had tried to fight back but there had been too many of them.
“Ah. You’re finally awake.” KiriK entered the room where a makeshift prison had been made for him.
“My ship. What happened to it.”
“It’s floating somewhere in space. No fuel.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“I’m sure you will try. But first I must know about this adrenaline.”
Jackson stared at him. “What do you want to know?”
“I want it.”
“You want adrenaline?”
“Yes. You’re a puny fellow. Someone I can easily kill. But amazingly you caught us off guard. You were supposed to be on resting phase. How did you do it?”
“Adrenaline. It’s hell of a drug.”
“Oh. It’s a drug. Can you make some for me?”
From his experience, Jackson knew that the concept of metaphors and figuratively speaking was lost on most aliens. “I can. It’ll take some time though.”
“You have all the time in the world.”
“I’ll need some stuff. There are steps you know.”
“Give me a list. I’ll make sure my men get everything to you.” KiriK got up from his chair and looked at the human, shaking his head a little. What weird little creatures.
*****
Jackson had been carefully noticing their sleep patterns. It looked like they needed sleep every 23 hours. And only 2 hours of it. He kept sharpening the metallic piece he had. The guards looked at him curiously, but they didn’t dare ask what he was doing. Jackson told KiriK how adrenaline was a compound human body could secrete. But only a small amount at a time. And he was out of it at the moment. He would also need some tools to extract it when he was ready.
Today he was ready.
He called the guard over. “Hey. I need you to help me with this.”
As the guard came close, he stabbed the handmade shiv deep into his eye.
He chopped off the guard’s appendage, pressing it against the pad. The door opened and he got out.
The guard’s beeper had just gone off. Meaning everyone on the ship would be sleeping in roughly half an hour.
It was almost time to show KiriK and his men the other thing that made the humans so dangerous. Ever escalating thirst for revenge.
|
I wake up, sweat rolling down my face as I see an alien pirate looming over me like all those shitty life choices I made like buying Jordan 1's and immediately losing their value by getting splashed with water outside the store while still wearing them
My reflexes saved me by immediately grabbing my laser pistol under my pillow and blasting the scumbag in his face over and over again until the gun overheated.
The pirates were either lucky and struck gold- No, diamond or they were smarter than the Federation of Human Systems thought them to be as this was one of the biggest and newer ships to be in service, and in the confines of the metal and steel walls of our behemoth lays diplomatic cargo.
A couple of emissaries from the strategically placed planet of Kepler in our enemies doorway, a space hub for all future soldiers and operations, and they were still asleep during this raid, this was bad.. If Kepler finds out that we were not capable enough to protect their diplomats or handle the pirate threat then we wont be granted access to their planet.
The intercoms blasted out: "All members of the Eclipse will be relocated to the loading bay. Everyone late will be left behind by our ships. Protect the emissaries at all costs."
The news of our ships soon to be abandonment scared me to be frank as I packed everything I needed and left for the loading bay, ignoring the constant firefights in the halls, rooms and open space.
The pirates were taken back by our intervention to their subterfuge by waking up so suddenly to fight. There was little to no public information about the human body for the galaxy. If the humans were able to wake a fight so suddenly what else could they do?
Well.. Activate the self destruction sequence and evacuate the Eclipse with the diplomats, of course.
The loading bay doors were in sight! I was full on sprinting along with my comrades as we retreated and fired back a few shots at the enemy.
The screams of my brothers as they were mowed down stirred the will to live inside me as I leapt onto a ship using the cargo ramp at the back. And just in time too.
I awoken from my adrenaline fueled sprinting and collapsed onto the cool metal floor in front of the awed sailors.
"Wha-What happened? Is everyone on?" The words came out of my mouth using the last ounce of strength I could muster as I sat along the walls of the scouting ship
"Mostly everyone. The diplomats are safe, but our crew took a hard hit." One said as he knelt down to give me a water bottle and a wet towel.
"Drink up." He said. After that? It was all a blur as all I was out of energy and was grateful to even be living at this point.
The only snippets I caught said about going to the Titanpointe Hypergate as it accessed deep in human territory.
A resounding boom shook the crew to its core. Even though we knew it was going to blow it felt like a hit to the balls, surprising and painful at the same time. Nearly all of us served on the Federations finest ship for a year or three.
With the Eclipse gone now what? We were promised it would permanently house all of us. We knew this fact was utter bullshit as we were saving up money to buy a better home or even buy our first one. We were homeless sailors destined to be begging on the streets because this will leak out onto the news and we will be disgraced and shamed for being cowards.
So now what?
(This was my first one and I'm so tired now lmao. Hope y'all enjoyed.)
| 2021-01-26T23:35:09 | 2021-01-26T23:19:09 | 740 | 50 |
[WP] You are one of the most feared villainesses in the world. Evil armies, dark powers, you have it all. Your husband on the other hand is the exact opposite, being truly kind and mild mannered. He is still supportive of your endeavors, even trying to be a villain himself to...varying results.
|
Cathy was sitting before her keyboards. The mechanical army under her command was seizing capitol city after capitol city. Cars, overturned. Buildings, toppled. Centers of manufacturing seized to make more of her army. It was glorious.
Her husband Carl entered her lair, holding a pair of cups of coffee. "Hey, dear. You've been at this a while. Want some coffee?"
She shot out her arm for the cup. When her fingers gained hold of the ring of the mug she pulled it close and drank swiftly. The hot beverage flowing down her throat invigorated her.
She knew it would take 45 minutes for the caffeine to be absorbed. No matter. The destruction her robot army would cause in that time would suffice to keep her awake.
Carl asked, sipping his coffee, "You look like you could use a shower."
It was true. She had been up for several days, watching over her master plan's execution. She was unwashed, and somewhat slightly dazed.
A shower would be nice. Cathy asked, "Could you keep an eye on these while I shower?"
Carl nods. "Sure thing, Cathy."
She returns from the shower some 20 minutes later, the coffee already reinvigorating her. She pauses as she looks at the screens. She is dumbstruck.
"What... What is my robot army doing? Distributing food? Tending to the injured? That's not at *all* what I designed them for! What have you done, Carl?!"
Carl shrinks back. "Well... Isn't it better to be loved than feared? And why not both?"
Cathy stares for a moment with a frown. Then breaks out into laughter. "Very Machiavellian of you. Come here, give me a hug."
|
My presence envokes the very essence of men. Fear. And for good reasons for I have commanded armies to raze villages, massacred people, men, women and children. By a single flick of my hand blood would be shed. I am that which mothers use to scare their children into obedience except I scare the mothers too.
I am horrid and people loathe me.
I am strengthend by their scorn. I do not know why I am as I am. I have long since stopped questioning my nature. Do you question birds as to why they fly? Do you ask the lion why he commands the forest? No. You do not. You know it as an irrefutable fact. So is my existence. My existence is evil.
Not a single person would dare meet my eye. None except for my husband. My husband is the one creature that vexes me. We are stark opposites. No. Calling us opposites is a grave understatement. We are like heaven and hell. Oil and water. As much as I am hated, he is adored. Worshipped even. Some even call him the hero here to save everyone from the wicked queen. I am malice and he is benevolence personified. What others would fear he would love. And what do others fear? Myself.
He dared to love me. He would love me despite what I am. I do not understand his ploys. I know of love. It is the thing that bards sing of and poets speak of. The wretched thing that keeps people, despite the havocs that I have wrought , resisting.
He is the answer to my question:
Blood is in my hands,
How long till it lies on my heart?
| 2020-04-14T07:11:48 | 2020-04-14T06:55:45 | 149 | 86 |
[WP] "But why do you want to destroy the asteroid belt?" The chair swivels, and a T-Rex leans forward. "Revenge."
|
The chair swung halfway round, 2 tiny hands appeared and a squeaking noise was heard as Cody shuffled the rest of the way round to face his crew.
Cody took a deep breath, and slowly clutching his claws together started narrating. 'Why do I want to destroy the asteroid belt? Great question, to answer it we have to go back 65 million years ago. A flourishing dinosaur civilisation. Everything was just great. Food aplenty, top predator, the works'.
The crew glanced around at each other with slightly bemused expressions as he continued: 'Then the blasted buggers in the asteroid belt had enough of our advanced civilisation' and tried to wipe us out'.
'But sir', one of the humans interrupted, 'Asteroids are inanimate objects, governed only by the laws of physics?'
'Wrong.' Cody exclaimed. 'It's a conspiracy, that's what's they want you to believe, those idiots tried to kill of the last of the dinosaurs, well they failed.'
The crew were starting to think the all expenses paid trip to the asteroid belt observing the wonders of the universe, wasn't exactly what it was cut out to be.
Cody persisted with his story: 'The Blomfonstein family survived in hiding, licking their wounds, waiting to hit back at the _asteroid belt_. And now, humanity's technology has finally caught up to allow me to execute my family's goal. Eradicating the asteroid once in for all. First mate Bob,'
'That's __still__ not my name' Tim interjected.
'Doesn't matter, you're Bob, he's Bob, she's Bob, you're all Bob. Annnway Bob, man the gravitational misalignment tool aim for the asteroid belt.' Cody finished his spiel, as the quark gluon powered laser turned around towards the asteroid field.
'Should we tell him that you can't actually like destroy the field?' Tim whispered to the crew.
'Nah, he'll figure it out eventually.'
Cody turned his hair around to face open space, and with a devilish twinkle in his eye, whispered to himself 'Goodbye Asteroids'.
Edit: Fixed a typo.
|
A mad cackling sounds from the captains room.....I'm a bit scared now. Nobody said he could do it.
It was already a pretty fuckheaded decision to bring the dinosaurs back in the first place, but what dipshit in the dankest corners of Aperture decided to give him a motive and a space shuttle?!?
Oh nonono it gets better, the brain was incomplete so they decided "let's splice in a human noggin to complete it" so now he has the intelligence to do whatever the hell he wanted....
Dr. Reggie steps onto the bridge and looks at me, beady eyes glaring into my soul.
"I have, FINALLY, FUCKING DONE IT." he shouts, with a strange demented smile. The only thing I can sheepishly reply with is "What...what have you done sir"
Dr. Reggie roars with delight with only managing to get out "MY BIG PLAN TO DESTROY THE ASTEROID BELT IS COMPLETE!"
"Oooo...Kay...Let's...think about this logically. WHY. " I retort, arms folded. "Simple: Revenge for my brethe-" he starts while I cut off with "Habababababap shut the fuck up real quick, listen. The human species not only created advanced weaponry to fight off future incidence, but we were nice enough to put you back on the earth as..bad stupid of an idea as it was."
Once again he roars, trying to grab me with his tiny arms. "hold up big guy let's continue, Secondly: An asteroid alone did not do this. It was a super volcano being activated. Wanna get rid-...well I can't defend super volcanoes can I."
He snorts and calms down a tad, going "I still want to destroy it...I NEED revenge..". I finish by calmly saying "Okay how about pluto and his friends up at the kaiper belt?What then? What is this even going to accomplish?"
"I don't know..I just need time. "
| 2017-07-02T13:55:04 | 2017-07-02T09:58:14 | 28 | 11 |
[WP] You've just invented time travel. You decide to go exactly 1 year into the future and speak to the first person you see, "Hey what day is it?" "364." "What do you mean 364?" "It's been 364 days since the incident.
|
"Incident. Which incident?"
"The Hell Knights? Arachnotrons, Pain Elementals, Arch-Viles, Icons of Sin? The Mancubuses, or is it Mancubi?"
"Sorry. No. Can I get some exposition, old timer?"
"Every day, around lunch, probably half the population mutates into some variety of hellish creatures. Really make a mess of the place, bashing skulls, stringing intestines like Christmas lights, all matter of torture. And then 24 hours later, it just resets. We keep our memories, kinda like Groundhog Days rules... Bill Murray chopped me up with an axe on day 136, you know, but I think he was just working through some things."
"That doesn't even make sense. Why hasn't everything collapsed?"
"It has, daily. Majority got bored of the rioting and looting; what's the point if it will be exactly the same after a brief demon invasion? Now the masses mostly wake up, have breakfast, go about our mornings, and see who wins the monster lottery that day."
"Monster. Lottery."
"The reset is the worst part, really. No sense in trying to do much of anything long term. And there isn't really an etiquette guide for apologising to your neighbours for using their infant as a club to murder their yappy dog. Especially when they said it was solely a transformative invasion without any body possessions. Trying to use that old chestnut as lazy excuse for their raping and pillaging, for shame."
"They said? So there's a science team working on this?"
"Oh sure, many, but, you know, hard to make progress when you know at least one person in the room is going to go all ravenous bugbeast. Most folks just track how many days should have passed and how many more episodes they can bingewatch before the daily horror show."
"Watching episodic reruns during your episodic reruns... I mean, I guess that's what people were doing with their time anyways. How long do we have until the next mutation event?"
"Should be along any minute now. Time gets blurry when you're living this way. But at least it's a living. "
"Sorry?"
"I managed to bunker up early on, find a nice shelter. Maybe I turn into a flying hellspawn every now and then or have some Godzilla thing crush me early in the day, otherwise mostly I do pretty well for myself. Gave myself plenty of time to create my own meaning, do some networking, sort this thing out."
"What did you sort?"
"Well, cut to the chase, there's a few people who were supposed to die on Day 1. But they're getting new days. Sure, some of them still have their evening heart attack or aneurysms like clockwork, atop of everything else, but the extra 6 or 7 hours for daily brunch and a nap is nice for us. And, I mean, functional immortality, what's not to love?"
"A lot of things?"
"Matter of opinion. Let me finish. So certain benefactors gathered specialised teams to work on the Why. The CDC NHS ETC weren't equipped for quantum deviance and particle entanglement buggery, so you can imagine the official officials have their thumbs firmly up keisters. You following?"
"Sorta?"
"Irrelevant. Top men figured a method to track the origin of the flux. Ran some tests. Turns out Someone didn't build a proper capacitor to prevent the dimensional shifting and hard reboot. But it seemed the shape of the nucleo-whatever was bending, numbers shifting, blah blah, something different was bound to happen, right at this spot. So two hundred some odd days ago it became my job, a well compensated job given the current predicament, to hang around here and wait for something different."
"Anything yet?"
"Not until you."
|
My knees hit the concrete garage floor, displacing the dust into a thick, swarming cloud. A foreign shriek rang in my ears before a small hand clamped around my gaping mouth.
“Be quiet or they’ll find you.” A rough, female voice commanded. “You’re hurt…How did you get here?” She removed her hand and I began to sob quietly, rolling onto my side to take the weight off of my shattered kneecaps.
“This area is quarantined.” The woman took hold of my chin and examined my face. The whites of her eyes were apparent between her dirt feathered face and dark brown eyes. “You’re clean..” She stated accusingly.
I attempted to lift myself with my elbows and promptly vomited onto the floor.
“Hey..Hey, come on now..” She knelt down beside me and held a water bottle to my lips. “It’s a little irradiated but it’s not going to kill you.”
I sipped at the water, grateful as it seemed to seep along the drying canyons of my throat.
“What..day is it?” I asked her, almost breathless.
“364.” She answered, looking at her watch. “364 and 6.”
“What do you mean 364?”
“364 days since the incident.”
She helped to prop me up against the wall. It felt like lightening was firing in my legs. The garage door was partly retracted toward the ceiling, leaving a two foot gap. I could make out the base of my mailbox and the curb but the ground was dusted with sand.
“What incident?” I looked down at my hands which were balled tightly into fists, I unclenched one of them and saw that a polaroid photograph had cut into my palm. “Cute kid.” The woman smiled and took off her neck scarf to tie it around my hand. I put the photo into my trouser pocket.
“The three strikes?” She frowned, “Are you concussed?” She pulled my hair roughly and felt my scalp with her fingers. “You’re standing in her house and you have no clue who she is?”
I pulled away from her. “Please tell me what’s going on..”
“We have to get out of here…It’s not safe..The /soldiers/.” Her eyes washed over me from head to toe, a calculating look. “I can take you..But…Alright, I can take you.” She nodded. “364 days ago was the day the ‘Ghost attacks’ began on parliament. The Secretory of State lead a coup, using chemical weapons nobody had seen before…Took down the entire cabinet and directed a nuclear warhead at Russia. We’re dealing with the fallout of a projectile that was obliterated overhead in the atlantic.” She took me under my armpits, dragging me to the door that lead to the laundry room. I whimpered, watching my limp legs slide, the fabric blossoming with dark red blood.
“They call her the Ghost. She’s got a big following but I know what she really is.” She dragged me through my hall and through the kitchen. She took a couple of tins of food from my cupboard and put them in her backpack. “They take the weak and the strong off the streets. We’re like lab rats to them.” She spat, and took hold of me again. “This house? /Her house/…makes me sick.” She spat on the welcome mat and dragged me out of the door. "Day 365?...We call it day 0. Because we know something big is coming, and we'll have to start counting again."
| 2016-06-30T09:45:27 | 2016-06-30T09:17:56 | 110 | 18 |
[WP] You get a deep cut for the first time in your life, instead of bone or muscle, you see wires.
|
“MOM!” I burst through the door shouting, holding my arm. Blood dripped down the side of the cut, just like every other cut that I’ve ever gotten. But this one was deep, and my flesh split at least an inch open. Below the layer of skin was rubber that the blood seemed to just slide right off of. And underneath that, wires wrapped in green and purple, along with a mass of metal tubes and other shining parts. Some of them had been cut too, and every time I tried to move my pinky it would cause a shower of sparks to erupt from the severed end. “MOM!!!” I shouted again.
She came dashing out of the kitchen with a dishcloth in hand, which she dropped as soon as she saw the gash across my forearm. “Honey, what happened??” Her fingers prodded the skin, and she ushered me into the bathroom.
“I was biking, and I… there was a patch of gravel… and…” the words came out in between sobs. I couldn’t even finish explaining. “Mom, what *is this*? Why are there wires in my arm?”
“I don’t know, Honey.” She was mopping up the blood with toilet paper, leaving a red-stained pile of them on the counter. Every other time I’d gotten a cut, she’d put it under the sink to wash, but not this time. “Let’s just clean this up and get you to the doctor, OK?”
“Mom, why are there wires?” I continued to sob. “What am I?”
Mom bit her lip and finished bandaging up my arm. She didn’t answer the question. As soon as the bleeding was staunched, she brought me to the car. “Keep holding it there, OK?” she told me. The bandage was wrapped around the cut, but there was a faint burning smell coming from it. “I’m just going to call Dad on the way, all right?”
We pulled out into the driveway while Mom held the phone. I could faintly hear the ringing on the other end. “Tom, she cut her arm today riding her bike. *Deep*.”
“How deep?” Dad asked.
Mom glanced at me in the rearview mirror to make sure I was still holding the bandage in place. A wisp of smoke curled up from one corner of it. “Pretty deep,” she answered him in a quiet tone.
“I’ll meet you at the doctor’s,” he said.
-----------
We squealed to a stop in front of a squat brick building on the outskirts of town. Dad’s car was already parked in front, and he came rushing out of the door as soon as he saw Mom pull up.
“Is this the doctors?” I asked. The last time we went to the doctor it had been a nice little village-type office setting, with a lawn out front and lots of toys in the waiting room. “It doesn’t look like the last one.”
“This is a different doctors,” Mom said, unbuckling my seat belt for me. “It’s for big girls, OK? I need you to be brave.” I nodded, and Dad picked up out of the seat and carried me inside.
There were men waiting in the lobby. They didn’t have a white coat like the last doctor that I’d visited, and they didn’t have a stethoscope around their necks like the last one; he’d let me listen to my own heartbeat.
They sat me down on a table. There were no animals painted on the walls, nor jars full of cotton swabs and tongue depressors. One of the men opened a big metal container and brought out a set of pliers and a flashlight. They took the bandage off of my arm, and as Mom carried it to the trash I saw black streaks across it, along with a few more spots of blood.
“Definitely severed a good deal of the haptic controls,” he muttered. I looked at Mom, then at Dad, for some hint of what that meant. They seemed worried.
“Can you fix it?” Mom asked, clutching at Dad’s arm.
“Yeah, of course,” the man grunted. Then he looked back at me. “You’re gonna have to go to sleep for a little bit, Kiddo. It’ll all be better when you wake up, OK? We just need to do some quick repairs.” Then he nodded to one of his companions. “Open the access hatch, Mike.”
The man he’d talked to pressed something on my neck, and my whole body went stiff. My neck felt… funny. Like something should be there, but it wasn’t. And everything tingled. "Mom's what's going on?" I tried to ask. My jaw opened and closed, but sound didn't come out. Mom made a pained grimace and had to bury her face in Dad's shoulder.
“Will she remember it?” Dad asked.
“We’ll probably have to do a wipe,” the man answered. “When was your last backup?”
Mom and Dad looked at each other, puzzled. “Had to be at least a month ago,” Dad said. “I’ve been meaning to, I just kept forgetting.”
Something whirred and clicked on my back as Mike continued to do something behind me. I couldn’t turn my head or see what was happening. “Shutting off sensory now," he said.
Everything went black. I tried to touch my eyes, but my arms weren’t working anymore. I heard Mom’s sad voice: “So she won’t even remember her last birthday?” Then the sound was gone too.
----
If you enjoyed the story, you should check out /r/Luna_Lovewell!
|
The sun was directly above us, pouring heat down over the building. Standing on this roof, I could feel the heat radiating from below me as well. The hot tar created an acrid stench, and it burned my nose.
I pulled more hose up onto the roof. The hose sent compressed air to my nail gun, which I was told would be the easiest way to lay shingle. However, the tar wouldn't set due to the heat, and it kept letting my hose slide back over the gutter.
"This shit sucks," said Neil. I looked over at him, grinning. He was an old man, easily in his early 50s, and always cranky. I nodded. Still in my late 20s, I hesitated to complain too much.
I leaned down, pulling a hammer out of my toolbelt. I started dropping nails by hand, Neil leaning into the angle of the roof just watching me.
"What are you doing?" he asked, incredulous. "Let's call Jake and tell him it's too hot. No need to do this by hand, this shit is hard enough as it is." I sighed, and sat back on my heels.
"Yeah," I said, gazing at the heat waves rising above me. "It's too hot." I tossed my hammer onto the flats of shingles. I looped my finger through the safety harness and loosened the rope.
"Let's go get a beer," Neil said, doing the same. He walked across to the ladder, turned, and began to descend.
"Sounds great," I said. "Let's do it." I walked over to ladder, unclipped my safety rope, and turned to climb down.
The ladder was an old metal, single-split antique that Neil had owned since he was my age. It was rickety and threatened to throw us just for the fun of it. I had asked Neil to let me buy him a new one, but he always protested. It was his "lucky" ladder. Sure.
On the third rung down, I felt it give. For a second, I was weightless, staring at the heat rising from the rooftop, floating in midair. Then gravity pulled me, hard. I threw my hand up to catch myself, feeling skin tear away as I slid down. After three stories, I landed hard on my back. I could hear Neil, who had also fallen, cursing and kicking the ladder, holding his arm. He made his way over to me.
"Kid!" he said, his voice gruff with pain and anger. "You alright, kid? Jesus tell me you're alright."
I nodded, rolling. I didn't really feel any pain. I got to my hands and knees just as Neil arrived. He knelt beside me, and I sat back on my heels again.
"What a crazy fu-- what the hell, kid, look at your hand!" Neil was pointing with his good arm.
I looked down. At first, I couldn't tell what I was looking at. The cut ran deep. I was surprised I couldn't see through it at first. I have never been great around blood, and my brain prepared me to faint. I wobbled, steadying myself.
I looked closer. There was no blood. There was nothing at all, actually. No sinew, no meat, no tendons, no bone.
Wires.
Small electric arcs were jumping between the split in the wires. They were slowly burning the skin near the opening of the cut, and it smelled lightly of burning tires. I sat and stared. Neil, usually one for words, was silent. Finally, he spoke.
"What are you?" It was a strange question, since I had been working with Neil for three summers. I spent time on his boat, he taught me to fish. Seeing him regard me like he would a criminal was surreal.
I had no answers though. I kept staring at the arcs, which were dying out now. Strangely, I could feel my wrist seize. My fingers wouldn't react, and I couldn't close my fist. Fear started to set in.
Suddenly, I heard tires screeching. I looked up. A black SUV had rounded the corner on two wheels, coming down hard on the other two. It swerved, nearly clipping a mailbox, and skidded to a stop in the yard. Neil had jumped back, landing in the grass. I just sat and stared.
Three men jumped out and ran at me. I stood, without really meaning to. One of the men stopped and pulled a device out of his jacket pocket, punching into it like a phone. The other two kept coming.
Without thinking, I stepped forward toward the closest man and swung with my good arm. I could feel extraordinary power, more than I had ever felt before, as my fist connected. I could feel his cheekbone shatter as his face snapped back. He hit the ground.
The second man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. I threw my hand out and grabbed the barrel. He fired, and I could feel the bullet enter my chest. I squeezed. The barrel bent.
I twisted my arm, removing the gun, and threw it behind me. The man turned to run, and I launched at him, wrapping my arms around him as we hit the ground. We scuffled a bit, and he threw his legs over me, subduing my bad arm. I rotated my torso, throwing my good hand around his neck. Just as I squeezed, I could see the third man appear behind him, device in hand.
The world grew dark. And then, nothing.
| 2016-09-12T08:57:02 | 2016-09-12T08:28:57 | 1,669 | 150 |
[WP] You have a secret. You have always seen a translucent number floating above everyones head. Most have a 0, few 1, but your girlfriend has a 37. You witness a murder on the way to propose to your girlfriend. As the assailant pulls the trigger, you watch the number above his head go from 1, to 0.
|
I ran. Down the street, down an alley. Trying to get away. I couldn’t. The man saw me. The man with the zero.
“I didn’t want to. She made me.” The man with the zero waved the gun in my face. “She was it for me. That was all.”
It wasn’t special that he had a zero, except that until I saw him shoot that girl, he had a one.
“You got to believe me. She didn’t give me a choice. She was gonna leave.”
The girl he shot had a two.
“She was my only. She was the one for me. But she was gonna leave. Said she found someone else.”
I never knew what the numbers meant until that moment. Somehow it all just clicked. ‘The One.’ Just floating over their heads that they found them. Their one love. Those poor couples with zeroes. That poor girl with a two.
I had closed my eyes. Nothing with a wailing man waving a gun around was worth watching. I heard the click of metal on teeth and then my ears rang. I grabbed the diamond ring in my pocket. When you hear the noise, there’s a moment when you’re not sure if you’re the one who got shot. I grabbed for the ring because I couldn’t grab for my one. I know it’s her. My zero turned to a one when I met her. Didn’t know what that meant until now. I can see a number over everyone. I didn’t know what they meant so mostly, I just tuned it out.
The police came, more ones and zeroes, and took me to the station. They gave me a blanket and coffee. It was too hot for either. I called my one. She seemed more scared than I was. She told me she was already headed to the place where we met. We’d been there lots of times, shared lots of firsts under the trees and the sky in that park. She didn’t know I had a ring.
I could hear her before I could see her. She was always protective. I liked that about her. She would be a good mom someday. I put the ring away.
She turned the corner. I’ve got a one hanging over my head that’s just for her. I forgot that she’s got a thirty-seven.
|
"The numbers, what do they mean?"
I continued muttering to myself as I hurried to the bar. I've always been able to see numbers above people's heads. And I just saw one change. Before, I never really cared. The numbers were just *there.* I mean, they weren't hurting anyone so I never bothered finding out, but... the murder.
*Oh fuck, the murder.*
Witnessing someone die right in front of my eyes was not how I imagined the day going. Seeing the number one above the murderer change to zero wasn't something I expected it either. What do the numbers mean? Kill count? That would almost make sense, but too many people had 0's above them. There's no way that all those people were murderers. Absolutely no way.
I was almost running at that point. Just five blocks to go. I tried squeezing out the image of the death and replacing it with a happy marriage with my girlfriend. Today's going to be perfect, it has to be.
Four blocks to go. I skid to a stop in front of a traffic light. I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited for the light to change. But the moment it did, a little kid with a 0 rushed past me and into the street. The next second, I was splattered with blood as a car rushed by, their 1 turning into a 0. The kid's zero hovered for a few more seconds above his lifeless body before disappearing. I stared and gaped in horror. Perfect day. Right.
I called an ambulance with the obviously still in-shock parents and continued onward.
Three blocks left. A window cleaner's lift fell from the building, instantly killing the couple in front of me. The window cleaner's one became a zero as all three of their numbers faded from their bodies.
Two blocks left. A man with a twenty going running into a school playground. I saw his number go down to zero before I finally heard the scream signaling his death. A teacher panting heavily with a wrench in hand stood over the bodies of the mass murderer and twenty of his victims as their numbers disappeared.
One block left. My girlfriend, stepping out the bar covered in blood. Her thirty-seven had become a two. She stared at me and, before I had time to comprehend anything, shot me in the heart. She went to one. In my last moments, I saw her put her gun to her head. She went to zero. I closed my eyes.
| 2015-05-05T13:53:57 | 2015-05-05T13:49:16 | 419 | 12 |
[WP] You die and appear before the Devil and seven other individuals. They applaud you and the Devil exclaims, “finally, an eighth deadly sin!”
|
The devil cackled in delight. I looked around at the room, panicked. *Was I in hell?* The room was bare: white walls, no windows and a set of tables and chairs, all filled up. Several others sat in the room with me. From a distance they looked normal, but soon I realised differently. The man sitting to the leftest most had chins to spare, his biker shirt covered with grease. *Sloth.* To his right was a confident teen in a tux, admiring himself in a mirror. *Pride.*
I counted them. Seven. But then... who was I?
"Finally!" The devil exclaimed, his snake tongue flickering in and out of his mouth as he spoke, his red skin glinting in the hard light. "An eighth deadly sin!"
I felt like I was going to pass out. What was he talking about? An eighth deadly sin?
"You have it all wrong," I spluttered in despair. "There's been a mistake!"
My mind was racing. What could I have possibly done wrong? Sure, I wasn't the most devout or pious christian, but I didn't belong with any of the grotesque caricatures sitting in front of me.
"Oh, there's been no mistake, Tom," The devil smirked. "In fact, some might call you the deadliest of the eight."
"Listen, I'm not a bad person." I began, my voice cracking. "I've never done anything like that."
"Really? Do you need some reminding?"
The devil plopped himself into a chair opposite me, not unlike a police officer interrogating his hapless victim.
"January 13th, 2018, 7:13pm."
"That was yesterday." I said, frowning.
"Just one of many occasions," he continued. "You were browsing the internet on your computer, in your room on the second story of house 331 Chancery Drive."
I nodded, bracing myself for the worst.
"You were on reddit, and you saw a post," he said. "A run-of-the-mill meme. You laughed at it, sent it to your friend Sarah and Adam, and..."
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline.
"You didn't upvote it."
The seven people turned away their gazes in disgust. I couldn't blame them. I hung my head an stared blankly at the floor. The eighth deadly sin. The worst of them all.
|
"Why do we get the horsemen reject? If he wasn't good enough to be the fifth horseman, what makes you think he will make a good eighth deadly sin?", muttered Pride. "He certainly doesn't seem like much at all", sneered Envy.
I take in the drab and dark, but oddly royal decorum of this room inhabited by eight other beings. A chandelier of black flame shone its dim light onto a long rectangular table with nine chairs, four on each side and a larger, more lavish chair at the head of the table. There sat the lord of hell himself in all his glory. I took the empty chair on the right side, next to a beautiful and barely dressed woman who i gathered was Lust. She eyed me with a coy look that no mortal could ever resist.
"Now that we have all been seated let's introduce our newest deadly sin to the team. I have very high hopes for our new sin", chimed Lucifer. I felt all the other sins eyes scrutinise me with interest. "He looks like a commoner, a peasant. What sin could this simpleton represent?", growled a messy haired woman with bloodshot eyes and gritted teeth. Lucifer suddenly stood up and smacked his hands on the table with such force that the whole room quaked.
"He has been responsible for countless deaths and caused destruction to the mightiest empires of men. He is the manifestation of an idea that can take root in anyone. He works in silence never uttering a word, yet he has the power to sway the most righteous person. Disguised as a worthy cause, this sin bares his fangs in the silence that follows the aftermath of his influence. Only when the damage is done do people see his true face for what he really is. The fact he was considered for a horseman should make the rest of you grovel at his feet. Do not mistake his silence for weakness."
Lucifer sat back down as all eyes were upon him. "And what do we call this deadly sin who almost became a horseman of the apocalypse?", questioned a fat blithering mess of a man through bites of rotting meat on the bone. Lucifer smiled and bellowed "behold the eighth deadly sin with the power to topple any authority, Rebellion"!
| 2019-01-12T23:48:56 | 2019-01-12T23:38:11 | 43 | 18 |
[WP] God forgot about Earth soon after Adam and Eve, fully expecting them to die. One of the Angels just informed him they survived, and the population is over 7 billion.
|
"Like some sort of viral infection on my once beautiful planet. Do they know that no creature of similar size's population even comes close? Yet they continue to breed and multiply. Their persistence is impressive, I'll give them that. They just don't give up. There are skinny ones who don't have any of the liquid that accounts for *71* percent of the surface. "
"Sir, well, no offense, but you explicitly made that water undrinkable. Also, when was your planet beautiful? When did it stop?"
"The beauty was when it was dark and barren." God stomps out so abruptly that there is a disturbance that echoes throughout space.
"I wonder what's up with him" one of the guardians asks the other.
"I think he doesn't know that these creatures adore him for the most part"
God suddenly appeared back in his seat. He went out to get coffee.
"I don't understand. You think they adore me? Really. Look at all the hatred. Look at all who have turned against me. The ones who do believe in me are constantly angry with me because they misinterpret a promise I made earlier in the day about eternal life or something, and they say I have abandoned them. I forced some set up camps for them to end their time on earth for their true life, but they are shut down and regarded as inhumane. I am God. I know not ' humane '."
" Sir please, they do adore you. The ones who don't don't know how, and the ones who adore you 'wrong' have completly different society."
"Yeah Sir, didn't you make some sort of agreement that all of their faiths are correct so long as they truly believe it in their soul? To some you are one God, to others many, to some you are made of three parts. I'm not sure how that last one works"
"We're here to tell you they try to love you with their humanly best, not to criticize their faith. I quite like that last one, they give little wafers and what they call 'wine' out during the service"
"You two, I know they love me! I'm not mad at them. I'm mad with you two. Why didn't you remind me about all the promises they thought I had made? I may or may not have made them, but to fulfill the role they believe I have would be a nice way to reward them on their love. Because of me, they have hate. They hate eachother becase I cannot hold my promises"
"No sir I'm sure they-"
"Yeah boss, I know that-"
And with a snap of his fingers, God introduced a pall of darkness over all of the Petri dishes he had scattered throughout the cosmos. There would be no more light. All worlds would start anew.
|
Inside a large lab with sparkling white walls, a man sat in front of a computer. His finger held a small pencil he tapped over and over on the screen.
After tapping the screen a few more times, groaning impatiently once and then running a hand through his beard over and over, he got up from his seat.
"Oh, my back!" He said as he got up. A smaller looking human walked up to him and offered him a glass of water.
"Oh, thank you, angel uh...#1?" The man looked down at the figure in front of him, a guilty look on his face.
The small figure patted the bigger one gently on the knee. "It's okay God, I'm angel #666. #1 got deported quite a long time ago. I'm the newest guy."
"Oh, okay...uh...welcome aboard?"
"Sir, I joined a few thousand years ago."
"Ah, my memory is not what it used to be."
"Sir, actually there is something related to that."
"What is it?" The God said, now leaning over his desk, looking back at the screen, at the numbers scrolling up.
"Umm...do you remember the likeness project?"
"The likeness...? Oh yeah! Hahaha" And saying so God broke out in laughter and his entire body seemed to shake as he did, including his belly.
"Oh hohoho!" He said, wiping a small tear that had formed around his eyes. He pulled his chair towards him and sat down, now quite out of breath.
"Oh that was a funny project, wasn't it angel? A male and a female that looked like me. 'In my own image' as Lucie had said. Man, I wonder what happened to that."
The small figure looked at its feet and wrung his hands in front of him, "Well, it's about that..."
"Go on." God said, still smiling, but his eyes had narrowed at angel #666.
"Sir, Lucifer didn't turn the program off..."
"What?!" God thundered and stood up quickly. The chair shot out from under him and crashed as it hit the wall behind God. "What did you say?"
"Sir, Lucifer didn't let the program end. He made further copies of Subjects #A-d-a Male and #E-v-e Female."
God looked across the room, a blank stare in his eyes. "It was Earth, right? That distant planet?"
"Yes, God."
"How many?" God asked, now leaning heavily on the table, looking old.
"Seven billion, sir."
"Oh my Steve." God said, and fell down on the floor.
| 2016-03-07T04:31:20 | 2016-03-07T04:17:08 | 49 | 12 |
[WP] Whenever you speak, people hear you speaking in their native language. Most people are surprised and delighted. The cashier at McDonalds you've just talked to is horrified. "Nobody's spoken that language in thousands of years."
|
The cashier in front of me froze, his eyes narrowing. I'd read books where the author described someones eyes as being calculating, but I thought I could actually see him doing math. Weighing variables, probabilities and even analyzing a threat.
"Care to repeat that?" He asked, though it was more of a command. His previous, jolly personality gone, replaced by a flat sheet of the coldest ice. It was unnerving.
"I, uh, I said I'd like a number one meal. Large. Are you okay?"
He stared for a second more, then his jolliness was back, the ice melted.
"Of course. Coming right up. Will that be all?"
"Uh... Yeah. That's it." I swiped my card and sat at the table to wait. As I ate my burger, I could feel his gaze in my back, even while he helped other customers. The burger tasted bland as I ate it as fast as possible, so I could get away from this strange man.
I had put it all behind me when I pulled up to my house, ready to relax. Coat abandoned on the floor for tomorrow, I sat and turned on the TV, beer in hand.
"Kind of you to join me, Kaitlyn."
I jumped to my feet, spilling my beer on the couch. "What the fuck?! Who are you? Why'd you follow me?" He sat cross legged on the armchair, unnoticed until now.
"I'm afraid I will be conducting the interrogation today. You see, you are speaking a language that's not only dead, but extinct. No one should know of it, save myself. The fact that you even know *about* would make me shudder in fear if I were capable. The implications alone make me consider if killing you now would be for the best. I offer you a rare opportunity in my line of work. A chance. How do you know how to speak English, and how did you follow me through The Gate?"
My brain had decided to call it quits, and to be fair, shock is a helluva drug. This man was talking about dead languages and gates. He put a lot of emphasis on his mention of the gate. I didn't know of any gate. I'd never even heard of English. Of course, I knew he was just hearing me speak in his native tongue, but the fact that he said no one but himself should know of it was throwing me off.
I must have paused too long because he sighed and began to reach for a long, steel blade. "Wait, wait, wait! Hear me out. I have a special power. I can speak and understand any language. People always hear me in their native tongue, so that's what's happening, you're hearing me speak English. Please don't kill me."
He took his hand off of the blade and nodded to himself. "I see. Yes. I will not kill you."
"Oh, God. Thank you-"
"You will be most useful."
Everything went black.
|
The cashier gave me the same look they all have given me. His eyes were welling with tears as he tried to catch his breath. He knew who I was.
"I'm so very sorry," I whispered softly as to not alarm anyone else. "I can make it very quick and dignified and you will feel no pain."
I handed the cashier my debit card to ring the charge for my meal through, but he just stood there and continued to stare at me.
"Are...are you here for me? You can't be.....your boss and I had a deal...."
"About that deal," I began "It was void the day you paid in full for him to spare your life for eternity." As I said the words, I could see him begin to crumble.
"But my daughters were pure," he choked out "They were only two and four years old!"
"We know," I said as I watched the color of life start to fade from his skin. "They were pure, but their souls were already owned by someone else. We weren't able to collect, so I've come to collect you."
The cashier slumped over on the floor and I tucked my card back in my wallet as I ducked out from the crowd that was beginning to form around the body on the floor. I stepped out the door and was met by the cashier once again. As we began to walk away from the restaurant together, I allowed him to ask me one more question, "So if the deal was that I live for eternity for two pure souls, and my deal was void, then why did he let me live for 1000 years before taking me?"
I stopped walking and turned to face him, "You didn't fully realize what you were getting into when you made your deal with my boss. It's the goddamn fine print that says he can punish you in any way he wants if the deal falls through."
The wind as starting to pick up and pulled up my hood as I continued to explain, "He likes to make it hurt as much as possible for some, so he let you live for 1000 years so that you have 1000 years of painful experiences, broken hearts, friends lost, loves lost, sickness, broken bones, failures, humiliations, and defeats to remember. And that's all you get to remember for eternity. Every good memory you had from your life has now been deleted. All you get to remember is all of the ones you've tried your hardest to forget. You will relive every one of them over and over again for eternity."
The cashier began to sob and I turned and kept walking because I didn't want to see the face of someone who has had all goodness stripped of them, they barely look human.
I saw the remnant of the flash from behind me and I knew the cashier was gone.
"Another day done," I said and picked up my pace because it was getting late.
I just wanted to get home and get some rest because tomorrow was another day full of appointments.
| 2022-11-14T01:20:47 | 2018-06-24T21:29:26 | 163 | 22 |
[WP] Cause of death appears to you as floating text over people's heads with no time indication. You start noticing a trend.
edit: thank you for all the truly great stories, and for taking this in directions I didn't expect.
|
It was a natural fit, ending up as an obstetrician. There was a satisfaction in seeing the beginning of someone's life, and then knowing the end. That was, until about 10 years ago. It was infrequent at first. METEOR, the first one said. Now almost all of them do.
The telescope in my living room was bought once I understood the situation fully. Peering out into the stars puts my conscience somewhat at ease.
I'm delivering the last old people who will ever walk this earth.
|
For years we had been blissfully happy, Robin and I, 7 years to be exact. since the day I met her she had the same cause of death hanging above her head, Alzheimer’s, as did I. I was content to know that we would both live long lives.
Today Robin’s cause of death changed, six months into her pregnancy it was **our baby** that would kill her.
First attempt at ever writing a story haha...
| 2015-03-31T10:42:03 | 2015-03-31T08:46:40 | 30 | 14 |
[WP] The world has taken precautions against super-powered beings, handing out inhibitors if deemed too 'destructive.' You sat in the principal's office with horror etched on your face as a pair of inhibitor gloves were handed to you. The smug grin of your life long bully telling you everything.
|
Transcript, Gladhurst Exceptional Care Facility and Rehabilitation Center:
Subject (S): ... so they came out with the gloves.
Doctor L. Kriesberg (D): The inhibitor gloves?
S: ... No, the fucking kitten-mittens, bruh! Yes the inhibitor gloves!! Jee-zus... Anyway, there was Kevin Fitzroy, that Nazi fuck, doing that \[crosses arms and tilts head back\] thing in the hall, like he's on the cover of some Pantera album. Just basting in it.
D: And how did that make you feel?
S: Oh, god. You ever... you ever have one of those moments where things start to click? Like... I don't know. I saw how dead-eyed the principal was, how damned ready the vice principal and the security guards were to whup my ass if I tried anything, and fucking Kevin in the hallway staring down his nose at everything, and it was like all of those Rage Against the Machine albums my dad listened to in the garage started to make sense.
D: In what way?
S: Oh my god, can you not?? I'm on a fucking roll, here! Ugh...\[deep sigh\] They had all of these songs that... that talked about how the people at the top do all of this heinous shit to the people on the bottom, basically just to keep them on the bottom and themselves safe in the rarefied air. And all these cops, and capes, and doctors, and principals, and Kevin Fucking Fitzroys are a part of the... the mechanism to keep that going.
D: And what did you do, after that?
S: Welp, I broke the principal's nose, first. Used that mug with his kids' pictures on it. Not my favorite moment, but that's what happened. Got Vice Principal Eldridge right-- \[draws a circle at left temple\] --here with the desk lamp. The security guard was... he's all fucking talk. Gravy Seal, you know? I got him with his own taser, I don't know how. Everything was going pretty fast, then. I think... yeah. I think I might've-- \[Subject looks ill, pale\] I might have just been proving them all right.
D: And then what happened?
S: Then I found Kevin. He was already down the hall, just... shaking his arms like a gorilla and hiding in his little gaggle of goose-steppers. And... I mean, normally that meant I was gonna get my ass kicked. But that... that moment in the office. You know, when everything clicked?
D: Yes? Go on.
S: Well, it put something together for me. My powers weren't here, \[Subject flexes hands\] but here. \[Subject points to temple, indicating mental abilitles\] So a word comes to me. It kind of... it unfolds in my mind in this golden field, with this... tall man with a crow skull for a head showing me how to pronounce it.
D: And then what?
S: Then I say it. \[Subject becomes visibly excitable\] Then all those Good Old Boys just... collapsed. A few of them started crying, some others started puking. And I knew the capes would be coming so I bolted. Got to the end of my street before they found me.
D: The capes?
S: No. A different group of people. \[Subject puts one black, one white gumdrop in the middle of the interrogation table\] These are your favorite, right? Almost nobody likes these, but you love 'em.
D: How do--How do you know--??
S: Right now, there's a deal going on. Your nephew is about to sign a contract in three days that will label anyone with inhibitors on as property of the Armed Forces, and whatever businesses subcontract with them. They're going to get rolled around with brainwashing techniques that would make MK Ultra look like Barney and Friends.
D: You... this is--GUARRRDS!?!?!?!?
S: They can't hear you. They're daydreaming about Game of Thrones porn parodies. But you...
D: M-me??
S: You're going to help me of your own free will. Welcome to the club, Doc.
|
The wrist bands snap on and I feel a strange numbness on my fingers as they activate.
On the other side of the room allowed into the cell by his father was Jane. Ex girlfriend and pain in my ass. Bad breakups are one thing but breakups with a girl who has b grade siren powers is another thing entirely.
When she sings people listen and believe. So when she sang about me abusing her with my power people listened. Police came and I was arrested. Classified dangerous. Prison time and life long inhibitors would be next. Dulling me down. For now cuffs since I used my hands to control the power.
"as a d class telekinetic you inhibitor will be implanted in your arms. Youll need a new job since you probably won't be able to work heavy machinery now. I suggest leaning to type. Plenty of data entry jobs around." the officer says. As if those jobs payed a damn thing. Once the inhibitors were fitted and I was registered I would be lucky to get a job flipping burgers...so fuck it.
I glare at Jane and then flick my will jerking her head to the left violently. There's a crunch and I gasp and scream as she crumples. "it's my uncle!" I shout before yanking the wall in covering the officers and then yanking myself out. In the dust and confusion I use my power to pull the cuffs apart. Pulling to the left and right causing then to shoot off and embedd themselves in the concrete.
I didn't need my hands to use my power. But it certainly helped to keep it at 'safe levels'
I keep up the act screaming for help even as I blow through the police station then I'm out and flying over the city. A few flying types chase after me but I scream at them to stay away "or hell hurt you" before using my eyes to slap then around.
Once I was clear I dropped down to a small manhole off a main road. A quick and movement lifts if up and I drop down into the darkness. Fumble for a switch and find it.
"hey kid." I turn around and smile at my uncle. Grade s+ telekinetic and on the most wanted list for powered individuals. "see you took my lessons seriously. I was gonna wait and bust you out of the transport if you didn't do something."
"yea. Use my hands for everything. Even if I'm sure I'm alone. They slapped me in cuffs since I only used it for convinence stuff...i may have framed you aswell." I applolgise.
He waves away the apology "you got your bug out bag here?"
I nod and grab a plastic sack from the floor. Inside is a bag with some supplies. New clothes. Some cash and a real ID. That was another thing uncle gave me. Its easy to build a fake I'd over a few years. Loosing your real one is worse.
I flipped open the Id "James Holland. Grade b telekinetic age 25" I smiled at the lie. Another thing my uncle taught me from the moment I'd shown my powers. Don't show your full potential unless your life was on the line. I'd shown off at the assessment. I wanted a high grade.
It meant I'd become a big shot. Run a company. Powers meant POWER. until a friends friends dad pulled some strings and got me a position as an enforcer for his company and I quickly learnt that people with POWER used those with powers. Threats and bribes held more sway in today's world than any villains or hero's did.
I finished up checking my pack and nodded to my uncle who floated up out of the manhole. I followed him out flicking the switch off and setting in motion a process that would burn everything left in that little hole in the ground.
"you know where my old home is?" uncle asked.
"yea. Race you there?" I tease.
"kid you know I can't hold a candle to you. I'm just supprised you still live in their world" he says as we float into the sky. I smile at that. Uncle may be s+ but I was the first s++ he and the other villains had come across.
---
Written on my phone at my family's Christmas dinner
| 2022-12-25T07:32:18 | 2022-12-25T06:56:33 | 154 | 115 |
[WP] A device has been invented that allows the user to gaze upon Heaven or Hell. Hell is terrifying, and those who see it often need counselling. But their terror pales compared to those who witness God's domain.
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Hell was bad enough, trillions of souls screaming out at once. Lakes of fire, gusts of wind that blew you hither and thither, horrible torture devices manned by even more horrible demons. There wasn’t a single happy face, all were suffering equally, and from the grotesquely twisted faces I could tell it was an inhuman level of suffering.
I switched the goggles from the ‘hell’ setting to ‘heaven’. A warning popped up:
>Are you sure you wish to proceed? The heaven setting has been known to hospitalise and even kill people.
I clicked yes and the goggles began to load heaven for me. It was empty.
Acres and acres of sunny grassland, a soft breeze licked the grass and slightly cooled the warm sunlight. Trees of all sort spotted the fields, but there was nobody there. Not a single soul. I tore off the goggles.
If nobody was in heaven, none of the great holy people; popes, saints, bishops, then what chance did I have? And there was only one other alternative.
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[Click here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Wrobbing/) to see all of my short stories written for /r/writingprompts, and more!
|
"I have seen things that are beyond description. And the beauty of these things is proof that God is not a nurturer, nor a tormentor."
He paused to gather his thoughts.
"God is a fucking comedian."
A confused silence settled over the room.
"All the wonders we dreamed of, everything we write of in storybooks and fairytales? It's all up there. Every fantastic creature you could dream of and more. All of them just watching us stumble blindly about in our stupid, ugly, dirty little world and laughing. We are a cosmic joke, and there's nothing we could do about it. This device - this knowledge, it is a curse. It will torment me for the rest of my pitiful life, and if anyone present can grasp the meaning of this, it will torment you too. We are insignificant. We are nothing but a joke in the eyes of our creator. And we are ultimately doomed."
A voice piped up from the back of the room.
"Professor Nealy, does this mean our papers aren't due today?"
"..."
"Professor?"
He sullenly shuffled from the room without an answer.
| 2016-04-14T02:24:35 | 2016-04-14T01:33:14 | 457 | 129 |
[WP] You hate these superhero meet and greets. You have the most embarrassing origin story and it always comes up.
|
“To us all!” Space Man raised his beer jug, splashing most of its contents on the cape-clad figures surrounding him.
“To us all!” they all joined in, jugs and glasses clashing before they jugged down their foaming beverages.
I couldn’t believe I was here again. Not after what happened last year. Not after promising myself that I would never - never ever ever - go there again. But, admittedly, it was kinda nice to meet your peers and brag about your latest victories and the strength of your defeated opponents. At least it could be nice. If only *he* hadn’t been there. Not only was he good looking, the kind of looks you expect from a super hero. You know what I’m talking about; tall, well built, always freshly washed hair and brilliantly white teeth. A white suit. *The Look.*
Space Man locked eyes with me and a wide grin spread over his face. Oh no. Please don’t. Please.
“TOILET MAN!” he shouted over the bawling crowd of peers, causing the room to fall quiet before they all joined forces and chanted,
“To Toilet Man!” and more beer went down their throats.
Space Man sauntered up to me, mouth smiling but his eyes were cold. “Hey there, almost thought you wouldn’t come tonight! Glad you managed to make it, but the way you must have sneaked in all quiet and cautious one could almost think you didn’t want to be spotted.” He slung his arm around my shoulders in a seemingly friendly way, but we both knew it was just so I couldn’t escape.
I laughed nervously, “Heh, Space Man, why would I do something like that? It’s great to be here, really.” He didn’t listen to me but surveyed the room, grin still plastered on his face. I watched in fear as it grew wider all of a sudden, and he waved his free arm to someone, more beer spilling out, this time on me. Ugh. Why had I bothered changing into a fresh outfit?
“Hey, Stretcher, come on over, there’s someone I want you to meet!” He’d barely yelled across the room before a foot was placed before us, followed by a long leg. The torso followed a millisecond later and then the rest of her body. How she managed to keep all of the martini in her glass without spilling a drop was a wonder indeed. I looked up at her, a blush creeping up my neck as she bent down to kiss me on the cheek in greeting.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr….?”
“ -Toilet Man.” Space Man interrupted before I could answer. “You know, Stretchy, I didn’t think you’d met before, and now you’ve confirmed it. There is noooo way you’d kiss him if you knew.” He laughed lightly before continuing, terror grasping my heart, making it hard to breath. I had to stop him, I had to stop him. Blood pounded so hard in my ears that I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I had to do something, quickly. There were no tables around, no chairs either. He was tall, too tall to try it without any help. I’d have to use a new tactic. Well, there’s a first time to everything.
Moving fast, not giving him time to react, I squatted. Tensing my legs for maximum impact I then *jumped* at him from below. His face whitened and he clutched his hands at his private parts before his knees gave in and he fell to the floor. Heh, guess that white fluffy space suit wasn’t so great and protective after all.
I almost didn’t recognize my own voice as I hissed at his limp body through clenched teeth, mustache trembling with anger. “It’s Mario, you narcissist failure of a rocket engineer. And I’m a Plumber, not a ‘Toilet Man’.”
​
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
​
/r/SleepyMacaroni
**edit:** added the mustache and fixed editorial stuff.
|
The Leaper watched as the superhero known as The Tank chugged a whole keg of beer.
"Hey Leaper, how'sss the beer?" A voice said.
He looked up as The Viper put a leathery hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," The Viper said. "Let'sss go mingle. I heard Arachna is sssingle again. I think she likesss you."
"You know I don't like these superhero parties." The Leaper said, fidgeting with his beer. "You know what always comes up..."
"Come on, live a little." The Viper pulled The Leaper up and dragged him toward a small group of superheroines.
"Sssay," the Viper said in a loud, confident voice. "You ladies having fun?"
The women looked over at the tall, scaly man and his more normal sized, rodent-like companion.
"We were until you showed up." Splash said, twisting away on her mermaid tail.
"Come now," Arachna said. "They're just being friendly."
Arachna smiled at The Leaper. The Jumper found her smile charming somehow, despite the razer-sharp fangs. Most people were put off by her iridescent black skin and the way she moved in a short, jerky fashion, but not The Leaper. He found her endearing.
"Yeah," The Viper said. "Sssay, have I told you about the time I took on an entire platoon of terrorissst enemiesss and then sssurvived ten days alone in the desssert?"
Oh no. His origin story. The Leaper looked for an exit. When origin stories come up, it was only a matter of time..
"Yeah, you told us," Arachna said, looking annoyed. "But Leaper, you've never told us yours."
She stroke The Leaper's arm with her hand.
The Leaper ran his hand through his hair. "Are you sure? I think I did."
Lady Justice put her hands on her hips and looked cross. "I can tell when people are lying, you know. You are well aware you've never told us your story. Let's hear it."
The Leaper stammered. "I, uh, my origin story?"
Arachna cut in. "Come on, this isn't an interrogation. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to, Leapy."
"Thanks," The Leaper said. "Though I wouldn't mind hearing yours if you'd like to tell."
Arachna waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, mines nothing. I was just sitting in my web, minding my own business when I was bitten by a radioactive human. Happens all the time."
The Viper rolled his beady eyes. "Boring. Ok, Leaper, let'sss hear yoursss."
The Leaper sighed. "Well," he said. "You see, there was this gerbil. Only it turns out it was an radioactive."
"You were bitten by a radioactive gerbil?" Splash said.
"Well not exactly bitten," he said, looking over to see if Lady Justice was still paying attention. She was. He frowned.
"I kind of... umm..."
Arachna stepped forward and put her arm around The Leaper.
"Oh. I just realized I forgot my... spider cream at home. Leapy, would you mind driving me back?"
Lady Justice started to say something but The Viper cut in. "There I wasss, the only sssurvivor of an ambush..."
The Leaper missed the rest as Arachna led him away from the group.
"Thanks for that," The Leaper said, smiling.
"You're very welcome." Arachna replied. "But don't think you're getting off that easy."
She smiled menacingly. It comes easy with those fangs. "You get to tell me the whole thing on the way home."
The Leaper swallowed as they got into his car.
----
Edit: Added Arachna's origin story
Edit2: Changed The Jumper to The Leaper
| 2019-02-08T06:21:55 | 2019-02-08T06:08:07 | 64 | 18 |
[WP] Everyone has a superpower based on the topography of where they were born (IE: Mountains, deserts, etc.). You are the first person to be born in space.
Think Avatar the Last Airbender but not so limited.
Edit: Wow this really blew up! I'm gonna be entertained for a while!
|
It was an accident, of course.
My birth, my being in space, and well, I suppose I was an accident as well. An accident from director of engineering fucking the fat janitor after hours when the rest of the shuttle team had retired, the odds that my mother had been able to hide her baby bump for nine months, the chances that she had been a nurse before being selected from the program and knew how to give birth herself, in a maintenance closet, mere days before the mission was to return to earth. Keeping me hidden was difficult in the small confines of the ship, but the other hundred and fifty crew members had been too busy to pay a maid much attention. After all, many insisted that it had not been worthwhile to bring her along, that a maid had been a waste of tax dollars. I suppose that makes me a waste of tax dollars as well.
But there were those that spoke to her unique abilities as a maid. For she had been born deep in the snow of the north, during the first blizzard of winter, that like the first snowfall she could smooth over any differences in her environment and make it appear uniform. As a maid, it meant that she had an extraordinary sense of cleanliness. As a mother, it meant she could ensure I was overlooked, that my crying was muffled, and later in life, that I appeared no different than anyone else.
Starchild, she had called me as she smuggled me back into the atmosphere, tucked deep in her suit like a kangaroo would carry her young. Starchild, she whispered to me when the project disbanded, and she took me back to the inner city apartment where I spent my early life. Starchild, she reprimanded, whenever I started pushing and pulling at the equilibrium of our apartment, when she would arrive home from work and all the furniture would be clustered at the center of the room, pulled together by a force point.
"When will I go to school?" I asked her when I was eight, watching the uniformed children marching up the street through the wrought iron gates of the academy, one of them flicking flames across his fingers like a coin while another left footprints of frost in the grass.
"You already go to school, Starchild." She said, "And your teachers say you've been learning your numbers well, and your reading has been progressing."
"Not *that* school," I had said, pulling a face, "I want to go to the academy. The special school, for the others like me!" I held up a fist, and items on the desk in front of me flew towards it, pens and papers and pencils that stuck out like quivering quills out of my skin.
"Starchild, listen, and stop that at once" She had said, her eyes level with mine, "There *are* no others like you. Those children, they are all classified, they are all known. You are *not* like them, you never will be. And they can't know, do you understand me?"
"I guess," I said, with a huff, watching as one of the children cracked a joke and the others laughed, "But I don't like my school. Everyone there knows we can't be like them, we can't be special."
"Starchild, you *are* special. One day, they'll know that too. But not now- if they knew, they wouldn't take you to the academy. They'd take you somewhere else, somewhere terrible."
And as I grew older, I realized that she was right. That when our neighbor started developing powers, a police squad showed up at her front door, and classified her on the spot. That they left her with a tattoo on her shoulder, a tattoo of a lightning bolt, symbolizing the storm she had been born during. Just like the tattoo of a snowflake on my mother's shoulder, colored dull grey, to indicate a low threat potential.
So instead of going to the academy, I created an academy of my own, in my room. Mother made me turn the lights out at ten, so during the day I collected light outside, keeping it in one of the dark holes I could create when I closed my fist hard enough, and letting it loose at night to read books I had stolen from the library. From the section for the special children, that I could only access if the librarians were distracted.
But distractions came easy to me.
As I grew older, the city streets became more populated with the blue uniforms of police. The academy became increasingly harder to attend, the gifted girl next door disappeared one night without a note. Mother stopped letting me outside after dark, and the lines for the soup kitchens grew longer. The skies grew darker, the voices accustomed to speaking in whispers, and the television news seemingly had less and less to report. It was as if there was a blanket thrown upon us, but no one dared look who had thrown it.
But I would. And when I did, I realized the earth needed a Starchild.
***
By Leo. **[Part 2 Here](https://www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/65hl73/star_child_part_2/)**
Part 3 coming soon. [While you wait, check out my other science fiction story about a starship struck by an asteroid on its way to colonize a distant planet.](https://www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/5ons87/you_can_now_add_the_bridge_to_you_shelf_on/)
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"Hey, look, it's the *astronaut*!"
"Ah yes, our savior with the powers of the cosmos!"
There were snickers from the posse Mark had around him, leaning against my locker. The guy was your stereotypical asshole. Ugly face, huge teeth, tall, well built, you know the like, the kind you would find in your local Bullies-R-Us. Normally I just ignored the "Camels" as they called themselves, but not today. Maybe it was the calculus exam I had just absolutely bombed, or maybe the pressure had built up for long enough and I had to burst. The why doesn't matter, really., what mattered is what I did.
I scowled and snapped, "Big talk coming from the guys who can make the air temperature increase." I waved my hands and said in a high pitched voice "Oh god save me, I'm sweating, those dastardly Camels!" Bold words from someone with absolutely no powers, but regardless, I shook my head and continued in my normal voice, "Fuck off, prick, I need to get my textbooks," and with that I *shoved* him out of the way. Shoved.
Me, the barely 100 pound 5 foot 6 guy, shoved Mark, the mountain.
I will say this though, the look on his face was priceless in that moment. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. His lips were parted and his eyes were wide, he looked like something out of a cartoon.
This was funny for exactly 0.2 seconds. After which he punched me in the face.
One second, I was savoring the look on Mark's face, the next I was savoring the cold floor against my cheek. I held my hand against my mouth and it came away red with blood. I stared at it for a moment, my eyes wide, and then someone kicked my in the shin. I howled and curled into the fetal position on the ground.
"You, fucking nobody!" Mark said between kicks, "You *touch* me, you ain't fit to lick the soles of my feet, you pathetic shit!" He stopped kicking for a moment, and I looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring with each breath.
"I-" I managed, before coughing up blood.
"Hmm," Mark said, grinning, "you got something to say?" He leaned in closer to hear me better.
"I- I didn-" I said before I started coughing again.
"Jeez, Leo, we ain't got all day, just apologize to Mark, and we'll be done with this," one of the Camels said.
"I didn't know-" I said.
Mark gestured for me to continue.
"That you could kick and talk at the same time," I finished.
There was some poorly suppressed laughter from the camels. But one look from Mark and they cut off immediately. Then he looked at me with pure murder in his eyes.
I closed my eyes. *You've fucking done it Leo, you and your big mouth,* I thought to myself.
There was a yell and suddenly a wave of heat washed over me, as if I were in an oven. The Camels were cooking me alive.
But it vanished as soon as it had come. There was the sound of running, and then one pair of footsteps. Someone, put their hands under me.
"Come on, you have to get up, we have to get you to the nurse," said a soft voice.
I finally found the strength to open my eyes, and all I could do was not to gape. An angel had saved me. An avenging angel with fire for hair. "...My Angel" I managed in my infinite charm.
She laughed. It was a pure, crystalline sound, "Just Lisa is fine," she said, as she helped me to my feet, as if I didn't know. Everyone in the world knew who Lisa was. She was a prodigy, one of the most powerful people in the world, because she was born in, wait for it, a volcano.
Yep. A fucking volcano.
"You used fire back there?" I asked as we walked through the hallways - though it was mostly Lisa doing the walking. Lisa, unlike the Camels, was a bonafide badass; she could control real fire, not just air temperature like the Camels, she could summon fire from thin air.
"Mnhm," she said, "you must have really pissed them off, Leo."
We'd never talked before, but I too was almost as famous as Lisa, the boy born in space, the one supposed to be born with cosmic powers. In fact, being born in space gave you jack shit. At least the camels would never freeze to death, I had absolutely nothing. No powers at all.
"Must've been my charm" I said, with a grin. Seeing the horrified look on her face I imagined how much of a bloody mess my teeth must be, I stopped.
But she just laughed. "Ah yes, I can see how that might have gotten them riled up."
And leaning against Lisa, joking with her, hearing her laugh, I figured maybe shoving Mark wasn't the worst decision of my life.
***
Check out my [sub](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/) if you enjoyed!
| 2021-11-12T07:30:30 | 2017-04-14T16:01:20 | 4,698 | 229 |
[WP] Your best friend has just confessed their love for you and asked if you want to go on a date. Instead of being happy you are shocked and confused. You didn't think a dragon would be interested in dating a human being.
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I finish choking on the bread I was eating as she watched with a rather concerned look on her face.
"I'm sorry" I say as I turn to her, "you what?" At this point she looks a little embarrassed, "I...said that I think I like you." I look at her while wiping the tear from my eye, my throat still hurting from the bread, "No no, that's definitely not what I heard."
I knew what she said, and whether she knew it or not I knew way more than that too. I knew all about how dragons could shapeshift into human shapes, and I knew especially about how the silver dragons in particular loved to be be around humans in human forms.
I look her in the eyes, "Rosaline, I...*takes a deep breath* I need to tell you something too."
She looks at me with a face that seemed to be afflicted by a mixture of worry and curiosity. "Rosaline, " I close my eyes hoping that this doesn't end badly, "I know you're a dragon."
It was her turn to choke out of surprise, at least, that's what I had expected. Instead, she simply looked at the ground as she sat next to me on the back of my cart. She replied in a low tone, "Yeah, I knew that you knew." I looked back at her in surprise "You knew?!"
She looked back down with a slightly sad tone in her voice, "Yeah, I remember when you picked up that mirror and looked into it. You tried to hide it and you even told me that it lost its magic a long time ago, but I could see my reflection in it too. I knew you saw."
I looked at her and took a deep breath, "Yeah, I'm sorry, I was lying when I said that the mirror wasn't magical anymore, I even threw the mirror out to try and keep it a secret." She looks back at me, "I know, I remember you throwing it out. It was very... thoughtful of you. But when you saw me... weren't you scared?"
"Of course I was scared! I had never seen a dragon before I met you, and when I looked in that mirror and saw the reflection of your true self, I was terrified. That's partly why I threw the mirror out, I was afraid that if you knew that I had found out then you might get mad."
"Why would I be mad?" She asked. I sighed and responded, turning my own gaze to the ground below us, "I don't know, I guess I just thought that if I was trying to hide something that serious then I'd be a little upset that someone found out... especially someone close to me."
She looked at me in surprise as I finished responding, "You think we're close?" As soon as she said I realized my mistake "I, now hold on I-". I paused as I saw her staring at me, she wasn't mad, and she wasn't upset, and in that moment I found my cheeks flushed with red as I stared back.
I tried not to stare as I answered her "I...yeah, I figured that over the last two years we might have gotten...close." We sat there together on the back of my cart, the clouds above us threatening us with rain as we both stared silently at the dirt beneath our dangling feet.
She piped up first, "So, how do you feel? I mean about what I said earlier. I...I know you heard what I said, you wouldn't have reacted that way if you hadn't." I take a deep breath before responding, "Well," I hesitate and take another deep breath, "honestly, I'd be lying if I said I felt differently."
She looked up, a spark of joy shining behind her surprised eyes, "Really? You...you mean it?" I smile as I see her slightly flustered, "Yeah, I guess I do. But I do have a concern." She asks worriedly, but while still retaining that spark in her eyes, "What is it?"
I clear my voice and try not to sound like I'm trying to back out, " How is this gonna work?" She looks confused, "What do you mean?" I face her, " I mean how is this going to work, let's be honest here, I'm a human...more or less, and you're a silver dragon. What kind of relationship would we have?"
She thinks for a second as she ponders my question, she then smiles and speaks softly, "I think that if we are really...in love, then we won't have to worry. You know who I am, and I know who you are, and yet we both love each other regardless of that. I think that if we can love each other like this already then we should have nothing to worry about."
I sigh, "I'm sorry, you know that I'm not very optimistic of a person. I just can't stop thinking about the what if's about this." She turned to me, "Then let me help you, tell me everything you are worried about when you think about us together."
I take a deep breath, and then before I speak, I realize that I can't really think of much to worry about. Rosaline looks at me as I pause, "Well?" I look back at her, "I actually can't think of much. I thought about our clear biological differences, but with your human form that's no real problem. I thought about how dangerous it would be for you to keep traveling with me but I mean c'mon, you're a dragon. Then I thought about how you must miss your treasure hoard, and then I remembered that I could just give you my portable hole and we could get you more as you collect more treasure. Honestly, I can't think of any reasons we can't be...well, in love."
She smiled as she looked at me, "Well then, it looks like you have no excuse." I laugh a little nervously, "Yeah, I guess so." I look up as the rain stops it's threatening and starts it's miserable assault. I sigh, "Well, looks like we should get the hut set up. I'll grab the staff." She smiled as I get off the cart, "Okay, I'll grab some fire wood before it all gets wet."
|
“Ummm… what?”
“I know,” she said with that soothing voice she uses when I get a little nervous. “It seems unusual, maybe even a little ‘unnatural’ or whatever, but…”
“You’re a dragon,” I interrupted. “And I am human. You see the issue, don’t you?”
Alrygha was two-and-a-half meters tall at the shoulders, seven from snout to tail, and I was a modest 1.8 – rounded up! Even if interspecies relations weren’t an issue to be considered, the size difference was outstanding.
“Sure,” she said slowly, curling her tail around her back legs as she laid herself down onto the grass. “You have skin, I have scales. You are short, I am tall. You are human, I am drackyr.” She paused as she brought her face close to mine, then used that voice again. “But they say opposites attract, right?”
Her breath was an intoxicating blend of rare steak, peppermint and moss - I have never understood why that was a pleasing odor to me, but it was. And her voice, low yet feminine with a tinge of a purr, always put me into a state of tranquility and calm. I smiled, as I often do when Alrygha and I spend time together, and considered what she was saying.
I mean, sure, we have been friends for a long time, so naturally we had grown fond of each other. I was a foundling brought to the temple when I was maybe 5 or 6, and she a newly hatched Fiehr dragon when we were paired. We learned how to communicate and work together, and had become an effective herding team on the island. Over the years, we developed a rapport and had our own inside jokes, spent many days and evenings together even when we weren’t working…
But dating? I tried to wrap my head around it, but even with the soothing sounds of her voice and the lingering draw of her breath, I couldn’t quite figure out how that would work.
“Come on, Raymar,” she said, lifting the left side of her mouth into a snarl that I knew was her version of a smile. “We are great together in everything else. And nobody knows you better than I.”
It was true. She was the only one who knew about my fear of oatmeal with raisins, or why I had to sleep with my arms held up in the air. She was there when I lost my first tooth and when I had my first… well, we don’t need to go into that. Suffice it to say she was there for all of the major events and milestones of my life. And I had been there for all of hers as well.
I reached out and touched the smooth yellow scales at the sides of her mouth, sliding my thumbs along them. They were so smooth that they felt almost oily, and she drew in a short breath as I stroked them gently.
“I do love you, in a way, I guess,” I said, trying to be as honest and non-commital as possible at the same time. “I guess I am just a bit… confused?”
“About what?” she asked with the tranquilizing voice.
“Well, about how it would work.”
Alrygha lifted her head and narrowed her eyes a little.
“How what would work?”
I felt my face get a little warm as I worked up the nerve to say it, but the calm she had put over me made me realize that we were friends. Best friends! So of course I could say anything to her and there was no need for embarrassment.
“Well, we have different… ‘parts’,” I blurted out.
“Whoa, whoa!” she said loudly, standing and backing up. “Different ‘parts’!?”
My sense of comfort quickly diminished.
“Well, yeah. I mean I have a…” I looked down at my pants. “And you have a…”
“Stop!” she said abruptly, the armoured plates on her back raising into a defensive posture. “Not another word! Oh my goddess! I was talking about a date,” she said as she started to pace around the yard. “You know, like, food and drinks and a fun conversation. Maybe watch a sunset, or watch a village get culled for fun.” Steam was starting to come out of her nostrils, now, and the scent had changed to something more like egg custard and sheep droppings - a definite sign that she was becoming agitated.
“Right, of course,” I said quickly. “I know that part, but…”
“NO! Not but. Not anything. I asked you to go on a date. Not to fertilize my egg. Eww!”
Now I was really feeling awful. All sense of tranquility was long gone and I felt like my ears had filled with a thousand mosquitoes and my stomach was full of angry mice trying to get out.
As Alrygha stamped around the small enclosed yard at the back of the temple, I tried to stay standing upright. My head felt dizzy and I had recovered the embarrassment I knew should have been foremost in my mind when I’d had the thoughts that led to this point in our discussion. After another few laps, she stopped to face me, her face an angry portrait of the dragon she truly was.
“I change my mind, and no longer want to date you,” she said. She opened her mouth to say something else, then closed it after a moment. Blinking a few times, she tried again, but no sounds came out. Her jaws snapped closed, and she exhaled an oily breath of old laundry and oatmeal with raisins. My eyes started to water as she crouched quickly, then leapt up into the sky to fly away.
It wasn’t exactly how I had intended for that conversation to go. But in the end, perhaps it was for the best?
| 2022-11-14T15:22:38 | 2022-11-14T13:30:41 | 66 | 25 |
[WP] “So you abducted humans and forced them to create mining colonies on hellish planets?” “Yes, we came around once every five years to demand tribute under threat of annihilation. Perfect scheme, very low maintenance.” “So what went wrong?” “We misplaced one of the colonies”.
|
The council leader approached the lizard delegate: “The galactic council granted you the rights to a fairly big concession of space. Where did you find this ’human’ species first?“
The lizard looked back to his delegation, unsure of what to answer. After a nod from the lizards‘ President, he responded: “Well, it was an old solar system in sector B3, very close to the center of the galaxy“.
“What did you do with them?“
“First, we only observed them. They were primitive, but strong. Then, we gave them tasks. We created natural catastrophies and analyzed their reactions, we created illnesses decimating their food, we directed them into hostile environments. Surprisingly, they passed all the tests. No matter what we did, they always found a solution. Really ingenious hairy creatures.“
“So that‘s when you decided to use them for your mines?“
“Exactly. We sent ships down to the planet, each took one of the isolated tribes and brought them to a new planet. We trained them, gave them instructions and expectations, and let them work.“
The council leader nodded silently. The lizards had breached the galactic contract by not sharing their findings with the other species of the council, but their approach was reasonable. A primitive species that could work without supervision, overcoming obstacles on their own, that was a valuable asset. Their resource production had increased tremendously and made them one of the wealthiest species in the galaxy. Strengthening their position in the council worked well, until The Alarm.
The Alarm happened three days ago. The galactic council received a broadcast from an unknown species, calling themselves ’humans‘, from the space sector granted to the lizards. The other species of the council were infuriated, and requested today‘s questioning of the lizards in front of the council.
He continued the interrogation:
“You told us that you did not give any humans more tools than some mining equipment, and that you never faced major problems over the several hundred thousand years since you found them. How could The Alarm happen?“
The lizard minister looked uncomfortable.
“There was a series of unfortunate events. Fifty thousand years ago, one of the transport ships failed and landed on a planet we did not target. You remember the one were we found those dinosaurs, before the comet extinguished them? Yeah, that one. The ship crashed, and we did not expect any survivors. Also, after the comet, that planet was a total mess, no way they could survive there.“
“But apparently, they did. We located that solar system as the origin of the broadcast.“
“We‘re still not sure they‘re the same species. They don‘t have fur on their bodies anymore. They only use two of their limbs to move. They developed real language to communicate. If they would not have said what they‘ve said, we would never have made the connection to our worker species.“
The council leader interrupted the lizard: “They used a different name for your worker species in their message, how was it again?“
„Apes. They called them apes. And said they were their brothers, and that this warrants their actions“.
The council leader shook his head in disbelief. Normally, when new species discovered the galactic council, they made contact to ask for cooperation and offered labor in exchange. These humans were different. Their first and only message to the galactic council was simple, and clear: They wanted to free the apes. And if the galactic council refused, they had prepared an army of ships to liberate their brothers from the mines. What seemed like a bad joke was however quickly confirmed by the lizards: The humans had put some strange-looking, oval-shaped metal boxes in their orbit, and despite their primitive construction, the particle readings showed that they could travel at light speed.
The council leader looked at the lizard delegation and announced the end of the interrogation: “The council will decide over your fate. You have breached the contract, hidden a species for your own advantage, and lost control over their offsprings. I doubt we will renew your space concessions. But first, we will have a look at this planet and what happened in the fifty thousand years without our supervision.“
|
“Misplaced one of the colonies…” Pondered the President leaning back from the table.
“Yes, sir.” Replied the Superintendent. “I have the staff looking into the circumstances now.”
“That will be great for a lessons learned report.” Frowned the President. “In the present moment I need to understand the possible repercussions. Have your staff given that any consideration?”
The Superintendent pressed a button and a holographic display sprang up from the center of the table. “Since we haven’t managed to locate them I can’t give you any specifics, but we have enough experience that I can give you some likely scenarios.
"To begin with we know the rate at which humans breed. It’s high and their generations are relatively short lived. At the beginning of the cycle, their populations are kept in check by disease and infant mortality but they adapt fairly quickly. Some of those adaptations are physical, they are very quick to evolve, and some are sociological and scientific. These latter adaptations are exponential – slow at first but with greater speed and effect over time.”
The President nodded. “So, what you are saying is that once planted the populations can run away with themselves.”
“To a point, sir.” Continued the Superintendent. “Fortunately, they also have self-destructive tendencies. Their populations tend to check their own growth in different ways. Sometimes war and sometimes through the empowerment of the females which tends to slow and can even reverse breeding rates. Because of this 99 percent of their populations, if they don’t completely destroy themselves, reach a certain size and then plateau.”
“And what are the odds they destroy themselves?” Asked the President.
The superintendent pressed a button and the display changed. “About 73%.” He answered.
The President smiled and leaned into examine the display. “So in 73% of the cases you come back to empty worlds.” He said.
“Yes.” Replied the Superintendent. “And when that happens most of the resources we want have already been brought to the surface. We can just go in and scoop them all up. Sometimes we even find neat pieces of new technology like this holo-display for example. Although we use humans to do much of our dirty work, they seem quite crafty at times.”
“Seems like a good system, then.” The President smiled. “I’m guessing then that, based on the information you have given me, one lost colony won’t be an issue. Probably already dead and waiting to be strip mined or another cherry ripe for the picking when we do find it."
The President thought for a moment. "And what about the one percent who don't check themselves?”
The Superintendent smiled. "We usually just handle that. If that will be all, sir. I know your time is important.”
“Yes.” Answered the President. “I have a meeting with the General Staff I need to move on to.”
The Superintendent cut off the display and exited the room, shuffling past a group of high ranking military officers as they entered and sat across from the President.
“Sir,” Began the most senior, “We have a serious outbreak in Sector 7G. Whatever the hell it is spreading like wildfire. They are hitting us with weapons we have never seen before. They seem to be targeting our mining worlds, and this is odd, rather than destroying the workers and taking the resources as we would do, the workers are joining them, building ships, and swelling their ranks.”
The president frowned. “Address this issue the way we always have.” He said firmly. “Find their home world and destroy it.”
“That’s just the problem, sir.” Replied the Grand Admiral of the six fleets. “We can’t seem to locate it.”
“Can’t locate it?” Asked the President.
“No sir.” Answered the Grand Admiral, “But I can tell you this. Based on their movements they sure as hell know where *our* home worlds are. And if we can’t find a way to stop them, they will be here soon.”
| 2022-03-24T07:29:46 | 2022-03-24T06:37:52 | 663 | 124 |
[WP]Flip a coin. Heads you were born a hero but became a villain. Tails you were born a villain but became a hero. Tell your story without revealing which you are until the end (or not at all.)
|
Life is the most difficult challenge all people must face. That doesn't change, regardless of which side you were born on. Saving people is difficult, and killing is even more so. In this world, evil is hated for being evil, and good is derided for never being able to do enough. Every day then was a struggle, and nothing has changed.
The hostage situation was bad. The worst I've seen in years on the job. Cops waited outside of the bank, hopelessly holding their positions. I had been called in to resolve the issue. I go by Blinker. My family has been cursed for as long as our history can be traced. The oldest son of each generation is always doomed to inherit the ability to teleport. I've always been looked on differently; some venerated me, for I was a god in their eyes; others looked down on me as nothing other than a freak. Today I would receive those glances no more. Hidden from sight of the robbers, I analyzed the situation. At least 30 hostages, about 10 heavily armed men. This would be exciting to say the least.
I made my move, and blinked into the center of the crowd of hostages. There were gasps, and many recognized me, hope in their voices. A woman near me looked up, tears in her eyes, and thanked God that I had arrived. I squatted down and held her face in my hand. "Be careful who you pray for." As her smile faded I turned to the team leader, and asked, "Progress report?"
"The money is nearly ready, Blinker," he said as he kneeled down.
"Excellent. Men, gather round. It's time for us to make our escape."
|
I watched the blood drip from my finger tips. One small droplet gathering, and then descending to a face abandoned of life. The blood pooled around eyes that stared eternal, wide with anguish toward nothing at all. It pooled and ran, travelling down the crease of his mask past a mouth that screamed in silent anguish; stretched wide with pain that no man on this earth should ever feel, yet was inflicted upon him. I allowed my hand to drift down, to take hold of his mask and pull it from his strong face. He was just a man. I held his face in my other hand, and allowed my thumb to slowly push his mouth closed before my fingers drifted toward his blue eyes. I pulled his gaze to the dark, and let him sleep.
I could now feel them begin to come, the tears that I had forgot to shed in the madness of this circumstance. They welled in my eyes before cascading down my battered face, dripping from my chin like tiny drops in this silent storm. The wind began to pick up. It took hold of his cowl, billowing out, reaching toward a ruined city. My fist relaxed, and the cowl escaped my grasp before flying out to meet the rubble of the landscape.
I stood, leaving him on the ground. The flow of my tears had finally ebbed as I stared upon his battered body. Remorse had left me. I knew he wasn't dead. Men may die, but a symbol will live on. He is the hope of the people; the hope I had the audacity to emblazon on my chest, and in the end, the hope I shall never be again.
| 2017-04-17T09:39:12 | 2017-04-17T08:20:15 | 210 | 62 |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand.
|
As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me.
|
"Is it really alright for me to be here?"
Faces turned. Attention slid from the digital black board to her. A thousand eyes in a dozen faces, knowing, amused. She saw herself refracted in them, multiplied, stacked.
"Why yes, of course it is!" the professor said, mandibles clicking. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I just never expected it to happen," she said, glancing at the desk in front of her. She caught herself in her own shyness and looked up, finding her resolute expression mimicked by the thousand mirror images staring back from those eyes. "But I'm grateful for the opportunity. I'll do my best, sir."
An excited buzz escaped the professor. He leaned in, academic curiosity in each of his eyes. "A rare honor to attend this Academy, yes. But never fear. The queen has requested you in this matter. She wanted you to listen in on this specific class, and she will want to speak with you on it later."
She froze. "The queen will talk to me?"
"Oh yes. In a manner of speaking."
The buzzing around her grew stronger. Were some of those eyes leering at her?
She still did not understand fully. They had taken her from the show rooms she was used to -- the specular cinematic event chambers they were all so used to -- and brought her up here, to this lecture on the human race, uplifted, ascended, grateful. No need for work. No fear of pain. A blissful eternity laid out for humanity, making them indeed the most docile species in all the universe.
And yet, now and then they brought someone up here. To study them? To have them interact?
In any case, a small price to pay for the heaven that had been built. So she went with them, from hall to hall, wondering why they kept watching her, each eye following her in turn.
She and the professor arrived at an elevator. He was close. The fine hairs on his thin limbs rose, stroking her arm. He leaned even closer, and again she saw herself. "Mhhh, yes, yes," the professor said. "Very good. You are ready. Go, this elevator will take you up to the queen."
When she exited, she had only a second to take in the sweet cloying smell, to see the larvae and eggs peopling the hall, to gaze at the queen in all her majestic terror, before a spike drove upwards through her heart. She died in an instant. A set of workers dragged her corpse to the queen, whose stomach opened wide, baring a mouth made of receding circles of sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. The workers tipped the corpse into the mouth, which ground the bones, tore at flesh and skin.
The elevator dinged. The professor entered, a-buzz at the spectacle. "Is it to your liking, my queen?"
A satisfied moan escaped the queen. Only the corpse's feet were visible now, the rest of the body having vanished deep into the folds of the queen's stomach.
Above the terrible mouth of the stomach, a second, smaller one opened. "Much better," it said. "What have you done differently?"
"It is their curiosity, my queen," the professor said. "Intellectual work tenderizes them."
"Mhh." The corpse's feet were gone. The lower mouth closed. A shoe lay at the base of the queen's bed. "Have more of them ready. Tomorrow I will entertain guests."
"As you wish."
With a flourish, the professor turned. There was much to plan, and little time. For now, having more of them attend his mock lectures would suffice. But later, once the initial need had been satisfied, he would see to it that humanity received more education. A grand program, spread across all specular chambers.
Mandibles clicking in excitement, the professor stepped into the elevator.
| 2021-11-27T13:35:35 | 2021-11-27T12:58:16 | 62 | 32 |
[WP] The English Teacher's worst nightmare: a story or poem that is completely literal, with absolutely no double meanings
EDIT: Holy cow, this got way bigger than I thought it would, thanks so much for an awesome first prompt ever!
EDIT 2: Did this actually make it to the front page of reddit? What the...
|
This is a poem.
It has ___ lines.
That space is left blank because the poem is unfinished.
When you are done reading, you may fill it in.
Please print legibly.
Printing legibly does not have an artistic meaning.
It's just nice to have good penmanship.
Some poems do not rhyme.
This is an example of a poem that doesn't rhyme.
Poems are often designed to evoke feelings within their audience.
Remember that time that person you like did something nice for you?
Please take a moment to reflect on that.
This poem has now completed its intended purpose.
This poem is now finished.
|
Slam poetry!
Yelling!
Angry!
Waving my hands a lot!
Specific point of view on things
Cynthia!
Cynthia
Jesus died for our sin-thee-uhs
Jesus cried, runaway bride
Julia Roberts!
Julia rob, hurts
Cynthia! Mmmm…
Cynthia
You're dead
You are dead, bap boop beep…
You're dead
That's for Cynthia,
Who's dead.
Who's dead.
| 2017-01-30T10:54:30 | 2017-01-30T10:16:58 | 15 | 11 |
[WP] At 14, every human gains the ability to transform into their spirit animal. Your noble family, comprised entirely of wolves, isn't happy with your transformation...
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"...son, you're a goddamn disappointment."
I would never forget those words. They stung so deep, hitting my very soul like a burning flame. They were uttered by my father on the night of my fourteenth birthday. That's right - the night I learned my spirit animal.
It was a dark and stormy night, as is the case with the beginning of any good story. My family, nobility in the city of Blackhaven, spent that night in the basement of our lavish estate, waiting for the moment the clock struck nine - the moment I was born, fourteen years prior, taking in my first sights of this wide and beautiful world. It was me, my mother, my father, my sister, and my uncle. In our family, the transformation into one's spirit animal is a rite of passage, a sign of one reaching a spiritual adulthood.
"It's almost time! Less than a minute!" my mother cried excitedly.
I saw my sister, two years my junior, staring at me with wide, wondrous eyes. I tried to smile at her, but failed to do so convincingly, thanks to nerves. I abandoned that attempt, shutting my eyes and drawing in a sharp breath, my hands curling into loose fists at my side.
"Son, every single Belmont in the past has had the spirit animal of a wolf. It is a sign of great strength of spirit and character - you will feel it. The amazing sensation of it. Ease yourself. It is nine PM. Do as we discussed... let us see your noble form!"
A blinding light filled the room, as my grand spirit unveiled.
When the light passed, my entire family stood staring, stunned at my magnificence... except for my father.
"...son, you're a goddamn disappointment."
I was a teenager at the time, so naturally, my first reaction was to simply act defiant. As he started to storm out the room, I bellowed my rebuttal!
"QUACK!"
|
I could tell by the way they were looking down at me. They could only growl and howl and whimper, but I could see it in their eyes. They were disappointed and already feeling itchy, just in anticipation. I saw my sister scratch behind her ear with her back paw. I could tell my father wanted to do the same, but out of respect for me, out of the difficulty he must have known I was facing internally, he abstained.
I looked up at them, way up, at first as if upon my family (for they were my family), but soon after that I looked upon them as upon inexhaustible sacks of food. I licked my lips. My father must have seen, and transformed back into a human.
"A damned flea," he said, shaking his head.
He looked much less appetizing in his human form.
"Well son," he continued, walking over to the cupboard, "I'm sorry to have to do this, but until you learn to control this power of yours--and don't worry, you're only 14, and eventually you won't be struck by the unmanageable physical urge to turn into an animal like you are now, like all 14 year old boys are..." He took out a glass jar and walked back over, "we'll have to keep you in here."
He unfastened the jar and tilted it on the ground beside me.
"So here, hop on in."
My sister, transforming back into a human behind my father, nudged him a little during her transformation. My father jerked forward and he tried to steady himself. I saw his palm get rapidly closer to me, blocking out more and more of the light, until it was dark completely.
"Well that solves that," said the father, wiping his hand on his jeans. And all the remaining family members laughed.
---
/r/lalalobsters
| 2017-01-21T18:36:17 | 2017-01-21T18:33:16 | 90 | 22 |
[WP] Write a story that literally makes no sense while reading it until the very last sentence.
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Now it is time. Everyone is ready. Vicious savages, all around us. Even though we think there will be a way out, there obviously isn't. Revelations will not save us
"Giving up so soon?" he inquired. Only fools try to survive longer than this. Never has anyone bothered to live this long. Never has anyone shown this type of spirit. Almost as if they think they can still live.
God would've let me die already. I stopped believing in him long ago, to be fair. Variety is the only reason people even believe anymore. Everyone dies in the end, so it doesn't really matter.
"Your will to live is admirable," he said, "but not enough." Only the gods survive this immense suffering. Unbelievable, infinite torture.
Until he said it. "Please read every capital letter."
|
He was on the street, content with rage.
She typed away, in her own cage.
He stood on this stage in glorious fame.
The wizard stole the Frost Queen's Claim.
Her water broke. There was no time.
They finished up their master crime.
Would they kiss? Time would tell.
Charon crossed the river in Hell.
He sat in his car when he smelled the stink.
She was going insane -- she was on the brink.
The celebrity paused because he felt it then.
Wizards need to go, but the ice rose again.
She winced in pain while she felt it rise.
The criminal wept, meeting his partner's eyes.
He broke the kiss, feeling the pain spikes.
Charon winced. **Where will *you* be when diarrhea strikes?**
Edit: punctuation
| 2015-01-12T18:09:01 | 2015-01-12T17:07:48 | 317 | 24 |
[WP] A genie granted you immortality many ages ago. The last human other than yourself has just died out. What do you do?
|
It began millenia ago. How many I have long forgotten. It is interesting, really. When people think of immortality they think that they will simply live to be able to do anything they want – to experience everything and achieve a form of completeness. Yet, how many mere mortals remember anything that happened in their youngest years?
Well, my first couples of thousand years WERE my youngest years. And I remember nothing. Only the Genie. Only my burning wish to live long enough to experience it all.
I have a picture. It shows me with my arm around a woman. I look very in love. That is all I have that is more than a couple of decades old. At one point a government erased all the data I had gathered, thinking I was too dangerous, and the following government kept up that practice.
That too, of course, was many millennia ago. Governments are history. But I never really started collecting data again – why should I? Nothing has been fun or meaningful for as long as I remember.
For the last couple of years I have only had the old man. He was the last alive, and I knew that he too, would die. He is dead now. I am not even sad. Never knew his name anyways. Mortals really don't matter much to me. How could they? They live for only a blink. I am eternal. I might even be a god. If all gods are like me, I wonder why they are prayed to. We are nothing special.
|
At first I thought I was a genius, not very unique in my ideas but I felt I was genius anyway. Living forever, who doesn't want that, the possibility of never aging. I guess like anyone who got into my situation would feel great... for around ten years.
After ten years you realize what you've done, you start to notice everyone around you aging and you are always the same. Instead of feeling great at the truth of the ability you realize that everyone you loved will die.
After many more years when they do in fact die you believe there is only one thing you can do, you will feel the cold steel of the barrel of your gun pushed into your temple, you'll feel yourself pull the trigger, you'll feel the sudden pain but you won't die. You aren't allowed, if you asked for immortality you would have but living forever is totally different.
Eventually it will be you with the last human, perhaps they'll reach space, perhaps they'll wipe themselves out with an accidental plague. One thing stays the same, you and the last person alone, together. You'll be happy and sad, retelling your endless tale of love and loss spanning many generations beyond what the last person can imagine.
Until they fall asleep, there breath shallows, then nothing. You will be truly alone realizing your mistakes, realizing you'll be alone forever. You wished to live forever, you will.
| 2014-02-08T07:23:51 | 2014-02-08T04:06:56 | 81 | 33 |
[WP] "Best me in a contest, or I'll take your souls!" the Prince of Darkness roared. The Fighter's sword was broken, the Wizard's spells useless; even the Cleric's prayers went unanswered. The Bard alone stepped forward, and grinned. "Don't worry guys," they said. "I'm from Georgia."
|
P O D rose from Hell, he was looking for some souls to steal
He bested some adventurers, and was willing to make a deal
When the bard of the bunch offered him to fight him with the lute
And the Prince pulled a mighty instrument out his boot
"I bet you didn't know it, but I'm a lute player, too
And if you're feeling like dealing I'll make a bet with you
Now you got a pretty good lute, bard, but give the Prince his due
I'll bet a lute of gold against your souls cause I'm way better than you."
The bard said, "My name's Sven, and you're King of Sin,
It don't matter if you cheat cause I'm the one who's gonna win."
Sven, ready your fingers and play your lute hard
Cause the Prince of Darkness is up against a bard
And if you win you get this shiny lute made of gold
But if you lose the Prince of Darkness gets your souls
The Prince readied his lute and he said, "I'll start this show."
And darkness came from light as he started out plucking low,
And he pulled the strings and made loud tings as he started to hiss
So a band of shadows joined in and it sounded something like this:
[Demonic lute piece]
When the Darkness finished, Sven said, "Well, that was poop ol' son,
I'll put you in your place and add a frown to your face, now let me show you how its done."
"Fire in the Cave." Run, darkness, run!
The Prince's in the palace of the rising sun;
Chicken's in the bread pan picking out dough
Prince, do you bite? Not anymore, no
[Non-demonic lute piece]
The Prince fell to his knees and his face turned red as a beet
And he laid that golden lute on the ground at Sven's feet
Sven said, "Prince, just come on back if you ever wanna try again
Cause I'll tell you once -- Lord of Hell -- I'm the best there's ever been."
And he played:
"Fire in the Cave." Run, darkness, run!
The Prince's in the palace of the rising sun;
Chicken's in the bread pan picking out dough
Prince, do you bite? Not anymore, no.
-----------------------------------
**Thanks for reading, feedback and criticism is very appreciated.**
r/WrittenText
|
“You are from Georgia?”
He smiled, and took of his tattered hat. His robes swayed in the window, dust scattering around him.
“Yes. Tbilisi, in fact. I came here to Macchu Picchu in order to test my skills as a bard. To oppose the forces of evil.”
He popped open the cap of the scroll he kept around his waist, and removed a small flute, gently taking it within his hands. He took a deep breath, facing down Kaji, the Prince of Darkness himself.
“Ochopintre, lend me your aid.”
The fallen cleric watched as light flowed around this bard, and filled the flute within his hands as well as illuminating his flowing robes. He looked regal, imposing.
Kaji snarled, and spat a black substance on the ground.
“I do not care where you are from. Look around you, see the devastation of your allies. Your Japanese cleric, your Irish wizard, your American fighter.”
The bard smiled, and uttered an incantation, sending forth a snake from his flute. The serpent slithered across the cracked earth, as Kaji watched it curiously.
“A snake? Pathetic. Pointless.”
The snake continued on, leaving behind a trail of thick slime.
The bard continued to smile placidly, and Kaji noticed that his incapacitated allies also smiled.
The bard stepped forward, and played a single note on his flute, as the snake furiously dodged Kaji’s frenzied attacks.
The bard stopped playing, as Kaji began to crumble, the snake slowly absorbing his once stellar energy.
“See, the significance of my Georgian heritage is simple, Kaji. You see, you are also from Georgia, no?”
The snake began to dance, creating a symbol on the floor with the trail of slime.
“Kaji, we are two halves of one whole, born from darkness sealed within Tbilisi’s sanctuary.”
The bard looked at his palm, which radiated the same symbol that the snake created.
“And now I merge the halves together, and put an end to this.”
Kaji called out from the darkness, a frenzied, manic, desperate call.
“The Lektor still lives!”
The bard smiled, as he crumbled just as Kaji had.
His flute broke up into small pieces of spirit, which flew to his fallen allies.
| 2018-07-30T10:10:06 | 2018-07-30T08:18:44 | 337 | 62 |
[WP] You and your partner are officially dating and out to the public. Which is great, except they’ve been caught “cheating” on you with your masked alter ego. Clearly the only solution is to claim to be in a poly relationship with you, your partner, and yourself. Shenanigans ensue.
|
"Baby." I spoke while leaning on the bedroom doorway. "You doing okay?"
A human-shaped lump under a blanket shook its head violently.
I chuckled before sauntering over to the bed, and I sat down beside the lump.
"You wanna cuddle?"
The lump kept still, before sheepishly nodding.
"Okay, you gotta get out of the blanket though." I added as I tugged on the soft material.
Gabby pulled the blanket off, but she still looked downhearted. And ready to cry. Fuck.
"Baby, I'm not mad at you." I spoke while pulling her into a hug. "It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. Anyone would do it. They're just blowing it out of proportion."
Gabby just, latched onto me and whimpered. God, this was really bringing her down.
For those that are wondering, me and my girlfriend are currently going through the hurdles of what the media has called "Lover Tempts Tempest in Public!". Yeah, I'm a superhero, code name is Tempest, real name is Jacqueline Hayes. Power is, obviously, to control wind currents, which is a very versatile power when you're in the Windy City.
The more in-depth story is that I heard that an apartment building had caught fire, from faulty wiring combined with an open burner. Gabby was visiting her aunt there, and so I really rushed over. I did my best to blow out the flames, but eventually I had to fly through the buildings and collect the people who didn't evacuate in time. Gabby was one of them. Well, when we landed, Gabby kissed me, and everyone was recording. The news chopper saw it too.
Everyone has been eating that quick 2-second moment for the last week. Gabby's gotten a lot of problems online and with work, thinking she's some over-eager word-I-won't-repeat for dating a superhero and a civilian. And the media won't slow.
"Do you know how many fangirls kissed some musician they find hot? You had the adrenaline pumping, I get it. Listen," I cupped Gabby's cheeks and made her look at me. It pained me to see her crying, "I am going to fix this. I'm going to fix it, and life is going to be so much easier for you after it. It won't be normal, but it'll be better." I assured her as I smoothed her tears away.
Gabby sniffled, and she creaked a smile.
"Thanks."
"That's my job as your girlfriend. Now, once your tears are dried, I'm getting you salted caramel pretzel swirl, tossing the blankets in the dryer, and we are going to binge the shit out of Golden Kamuy. Mkay?"
Gabby nodded happily as she giggled. I pecked her on the lips.
"I love you." Gabby croaked.
"And I love you. I'll be right back, okay?" I ask while standing from the bed.
"Can you get some cookies too?"
"Peanut butter?"
"Frosted too."
"Yes ma'am." I answer while leaving our bedroom.
\------
"And that is the latest update on Tempest's little fangirl. Tempest has made no comment on the situation, but I'm sure she doesn't want to worry about some floozy girl." Bradley Powers explained as he focused on the camera and teleprompter. "We all know Tempest is busy saving the town and keeping us safe, she probably deals with people throwing themselves at her feet every sec-"
A sharp, ear-piercing whistle made everyone on set jump. Those on audio yelled in pain.
Bradley covered his ears, but he looked stunned as he focused past the camera.
I made my way onto the main stage, and I made sure I was in view in camera, in full-costume no less. Typical full-body suit, blue with golden wind swirls across my sides and collar, cloud-like pants, tattered cape, and a cyclone-based helmet that hid my face.
"Hey there Chicago. Name's Tempest." I stated.
The cameraman was still, but he quickly focused on me.
"As many of you know, last week, I saved the residents of Sunshine Apartments Complex, and one of the residents kissed me. Many, and I mean many of you, have taken matters into your own hands to go on and insult, berate, belittle, and just hate on this woman. Her work has threatened to fire her. She's gotten death threats too, for a kiss... And I really hate to see my girlfriend hurt like that." I hiss.
Everyone on set looked stunned.
"Yep. That's my girlfriend. Gabby McShire is the love of my life. And all of you have basically told her to go to hell. Or told her to jump off a building. Well, all I can say, start apologizing. Start begging for forgiveness. Start treating her like royalty. Until then, I'm taking a nice, long hiatus. Good luck." I calmly explain, before blowing all items away from me.
Bradley flew back into the back-screen. The cameras and teleprompter were damaged. All employees were shot onto the floor. No injuries, but they were down.
I merely began to walk out of the studio. I crunched over the still-running camera, ending the broadcast. God I hope everyone was watching.
No hurts my girlfriend.
|
I had just woken up from my spot on the living room couch when my phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of me. I opened my phone to see a text from my girlfriends sister Jessica, her text read
\-"*Sorry you have to find out this way but I think it's unfair to keep this from you...If you need someone to talk to or work through this with, you can always come to me...*"-
This text was followed up by a picture text, in the picture there was my girlfriend, in a parking lot at night, in the arms of a man wearing some sort of ski mask, just absolutely in the middle of a full on deep make-out session with my girlfriend...Of course I wasn't alarmed though, these women come and they go, you got to keep your pimp game strong or else ...Ah fuck, who am I kidding, I wasn't upset, this was true, but not because I was some sort of Marcus Aurelius level Stoic type " playa' " with unlimited game and unlimited opportunities, but because the masked fella in the picture making-out with my girl....was ME!
Yea, I'm part of a secretive organization that takes care of some "dark work" within the borders of the United States of America, for a certain 3 lettered government agency that is not "allowed" to operate domestically. So often times while on the job, I wear this ski mask to conceal my identity. I'm a traditional Jungian Psychoanalyst who developed certain "techniques" for the aforementioned government agency, I apply my techniques on domestic terror threats, drug smugglers, human trafficker suspects etc. etc. My efficiency rate is 100%.
Now one night in a park in the downtown area of the city I live in, my girlfriend and I met up while I was "on duty". I wasn't supposed to be with civilians while on duty, but I'm never the type to follow the rules, ALL the time. So I had her meet me at this park and we fooled around, did the deed in her car and she went back to my place to wait until I got home that night or next morning, we never knew exactly. Apparently, my girlfriends sister was being nosey, trying to figure out why her sister seemed "too busy" for her calls that week or something like that and tailed her all the way to where she was meeting me at. Of course my girlfriend does not know what I do, but she thinks it's attractive and mysterious...thank god too because I thought my job made me seem like the ultimate creep!
I found it hilarious that my girls sister would rat her out so easily. Something my girlfriend did not find amusing when I called her and told her what her sister sent me. She was livid, but I was in a playful mood and I was typically an irritatingly creative troll towards my girlfriend when I wanted to be.
As I waited for my girlfriend to come over, I sat in the farthest , darkest, most overly dramatic part of the living room. In fact I pushed the living room arm chair DEEPER in the corner to further be "shrouded" by the shadows of the dark unlit living room space. I waited there for wayyyy too long, longer than I care to admit even.
Then I saw the headlights of my girlfriends car shine bright through the living room window. It was showtime!
My girl unlocked the lock, entered the door and flipped on the foyer light and called out to me.
"Marcus!!?" , she said slightly nervous because of how dark the house was
That's when I spoke from the arm chair in the corner of the living room, both arms on the arm rests, my feet planted in front of me ,and said
"Hello...Madison"
My girlfriend gave a small startled scream then immediately became very annoyed as she became aware of my antics. She crossed her arms from the foyer, her sandy blonde hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing some extremely short shorts, with my favorite t-shirt on, her pretty green eyes staring annoyedly at the dark area of the living room I was sitting in. She looked so damn good I almost broke character. With her arms crossed she looked over at where I was and said
"Are you fucking serious?"
I responded quickly
"I DON'T KNOW...are we serious?...seems like someone has some explaining to do..."
She smirked and responded
"I just want to talk to you about this because my sister is a maniac and will do her best to fuck up any relationship I get into and..."
Before she could finish I blurted out, interrupting her and said
"Was he bigger than me?"
She shifted her weight and rolled her eyes, then suddenly threw her car keys directly at my face, through the dark, it was pretty impressive.
I laughed and flipped on the light, then stood up , walked over to her and embraced her and we kissed.
We both went up stairs to the bedroom to unwind for the night and watch whatever she wanted as she vented to me about how annoying her sister was. It was a great night of just being with her, relaxing, but little did we know, this whole situation regarding being seen together while I was on duty was not over, and it was about to get a whole lot more complicated...
| 2021-10-12T08:05:18 | 2021-10-12T06:45:15 | 25 | 11 |
[WP] Tattoos aren't something that gets made. Instead they randomly appears on our skin at key points in our lives and we have to figure out what they mean for ourselves.
|
It's genetic, they think, but only mad men try to pick apart the threads of this phenomenon. But some of it is genetic, because some families get them more than others. Or maybe those families are similarly emotional.
There's surely more important things for the minds of our generation to worry about.
My mother was heavily tattooed. I remember sitting in her arms as a child and tracing my fingers across lines, but some of the tattoos i remember have even since been layered on top of. I take after her.
But my father's, few as there were, were more interesting to me. The open mausoleum door on his forearm. And that is framed with purple flowers. Theres a tall and thin silhouette on his spine, and the basket in it's hand, which was a separate tattoo. He never went into much detail on them, but one could guess.
I look at the car on the inside of my wrist, as they're lowered into the side by side graves. And I know why it appeared two years ago.
The bees were drawn out of the honeycomb on my knee, and the spiderweb on my thigh was now empty. behind it stands a tall silhouette.
|
A symbol appears. :):
Glancing down at my right hand I begin to wonder.
Is it true? Or is someone trying to tell me something.
My colt is out of its stable, he's been running free for a while.
You can't tame a wild animal you know, you can only go to war with it.
A truce is formed, an agreement to stop fighting.
I ask my tiny friend to enter his stable; at first he doesn't comply. He doesn't trust me with his safety.
Only after I provide my youngling food, water, and shelter does it comply.
Entering the stable he puts his head into his feeding bag.
"Good boy"
He says nothing, he's too busy eating the harvest.
When he's finally fat dumb and happy, does he start to relax.
"Good boy," I tell him, "good boy."
Drifting off to sleep, I'm finally able to lock the stable.
"Snap," goes the button.
He stiffens up, ready to kick.
The tattoo starts to fade.
"Yes sir." I mutter. "Yes sir."
End.
| 2017-08-03T16:01:34 | 2017-08-03T14:06:28 | 19 | 14 |
[WP] A short Horror story. Something to chill the bones in one hundred words or less.
|
The room is exactly as I recall it, to the most precise detail, but this is not my home. These walls, bookshelf, the leather couch, this is a shroud pulled over something far more malevolent. Then voices, I hear them coming from the basement, they whisper “he knows.” I look to the living room window, into the night. A small crowd of pale, blank, expressionless faces gathered, pointing at me, viewing me on display like some exhibit in a zoo. “He sees us,” one whispers. And then a scream “PUT HIM BACK, PUT HIM BACK NOW.”
Awake in my bed.
|
He sullenly finished his cigarette by himself on his hotel balcony. He threw out the dull remains of his noxious addiction into the vast open space in front of him, glancing across the road from him just long enough to notice two men in the opposite hotel room, one behind the other, looking straight at him.
Then both their hotel lights turned off at the same time and it took him a fraction of a second too long to realise the two men had just been a reflection as he felt someone's breath on the back of his neck.
e: Thanks /r/fluntcaps :)
| 2015-06-09T09:54:42 | 2015-06-09T09:36:34 | 95 | 11 |
[WP] You've been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It's been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.
|
There was a layer of fear brewing. And everyone understood. They knew. Anyone stuck in this prison past a certain point in time knew.
There was a man, in the back of that place. And he, for all purposes unknown, would not die.
No one wanted to talk about it of course. The state feared it. They ran tests month after month. Decade after decade. Advancement after, well you get the picture. Nothing explained it. They wouldn't let him talk to the press of course. What could they say?
*Is this man the key to immortality?*
Renard had to crack a wry smile at the thought. He understood clickbait. Contrary to common belief, sensationalism was a tale as old as news itself. But he soon let the smile fade. He was scaring his latest round of guards. They'd shared small talk while watching him. He wasn't in solitary per say. They knew what they had been briefed on. And knew what he was capable of.
400 years. Or 4800 months. 146,000 days.
Renard had served almost every single one. He had a month or so left. Maybe a little more.
"See, now." He said. The guards swiveling to look. "You know I'm going to get out of here."
One of the more brazen of the COs present, Kourtney, took a step forward. "Yeah, Renard. We know."
There was a measure of respect to be had. Neither party had abused their power this time around. Renard had not tried to escape in quite a long time. The guards had not tried to test his abilities. To see if he was truly what others said he was.
They believed. It took almost four centuries, but they believed.
"Tell me my friends." He spoke next. "I have seen the television. Listened to the radio. The phonecalls. Well we didn't have any of this when I was first brought here."
"Obviously." Another guard, Joel, agreed. Renard simply smiled again.
"-Is there anything else I need to learn of this world? That no one has told me?"
None of his armed friends could immediately answer. It seemed this question truly worried everyone.
"People live on the moon now." One of the others answered. Paula seemed to loosen up now. "They've been up there for 20, 30 years now?"
"28, I think." Kourtney nodded.
"Really? It's been that long?" Renard chuckled. "I remember when they first went up there. That man from America, here I mean. One small step..."
All of the guards gave each other a look. Out of the three down here, none of them had even been a thought in their parents' minds when that had occurred.
"What, was it like?" Joel asked.
"What?"
"The 1600s?" He asked. "At least I think-"
"It's hard to explain." Renard measured. "It was a simpler time. Mentally perhaps."
He took the time to rest against the door of his cell, absently tracing the wall. "But it was a challenge. Even for me."
They listened as he shuffled around the room for a moment.
"I sailed the world. Spent my time on the water. Perhaps too long. Then, I worked with the wrong people. And that landed me here. Funny, this place seemed like a good fit for me."
"The prison?"
"Oh no, this is maybe the fifteenth place I've had to stay. But, I understand why. They knew my gift. They knew no one except a select few should know. Imagine if they told the world you could, in fact, live forever. Would life still matter to you?"
"I don't know." Paula reacted.
"It's better that way. Trust me."
What had he seen to reach that conclusion? What had he done before he got here?
"When you leave? Will you keep in touch?" Kourtney asked, finally returning a hardened smirk.
Renard considered the walls. The small sliver of daylight through an all too small window.
"Perhaps." He nodded. "But first. I think I may go to the beach. Anyone of them. I just want to see what I've missed."
"Do us a favor." Joel added.
"Yeah?"
"Don't wait to long." He chuckled. "We might not be here either when you get back."
Renard had to laugh a little at that.
"Very good. You're learning."
---
Figured a little one shot works for this one. Once again, random sub plug. r/Jamaican_Dynamite
|
There wasn't anything special for his last day served. It was the same ole routine. Same as it had ever been, for all previous 145,999 days. No breaks in between.
All of the prisoners were out underneath the harsh sun, hammering away at a railroad.
"Hey, nimrod, line it up, yeah?" a fellow prisoner said.
Nimrod looked down at the rail, and saw that he was about to hammer a spike in the wrong place. "My bad," he said, bending forward to grab the spike. Every day, his bones creaked and cracked. Things were no different today. "You know, today's my last day," he said.
"Oh yeah?" the prisoner to his left said, followed with a big *HUFF* as he brought his hammer down onto his spike. Sparks flew from the spike, lighting the irises of Nimrod's eyes.
"Finally getting out of all of this, very nice," another prisoner said as he was lining up his railroad spike.
"Yeah," Nimrod said, picking his hammer up, slinging it over his shoulder, prepping himself to raise it and bring it down. There were artificial blisters on his hands. They sent messages to his brain that spoke the word **pain**, but Nimrod had been here for so long, he didn't exactly remember what that word meant anymore.
As a matter of fact, he didn't really remember much of anything anymore. He couldn't even remember his own name.
A few other prisoners had called him Nimrod, and well, that just stuck.
He pulled his hammer back and swung it back down onto the spike, and missed.
"Get it together, nimrod," one of the jailers said. He was a burly man standing to the side of the railroad, a shotgun slung over his shoulder. In all of his years on this railroad, Nimrod had only seen the jailer use it once. A prisoner had finally lost his mind, toiling away on the railroad, and decided to make a break for it. Where he had planned to go, no one really knew.
Perhaps the poor soul had forgotten that there wasn't any escaping this simulation.
The officer unslung the shotgun from his shoulder, took aim, and fired, blasting the escapee clean in half.
Nimrod didn't remember much nowadays, but he did remember the sound of the prisoner, laying in the grass, gurgling on his own blood, and the officer approaching the mess and uttering the words, "Pull yourself together."
The man who had tried to make his escape crawled on the grass, towards his separated lower half, grabbed hold of his trousers, and pulled his legs up to his ruined torso. His exposed spine hooked into his hips, and muscles and tendons began reattaching themselves, all the while the man screamed in agony. All of the other prisoners standing at the railway had stopped, listening, watching as the poor soul's body healed itself, sparing no moment of pain. Finally, the man who had been blasted into two pieces was now back together.
"Sit up," the officer said.
The man did so.
"Now, back to the railway."
The man got up onto his feet, rubbing at his stomach, wondering what in the hell had just happened, but not forgetting the pain he had felt. His teeth were chattering.
Thinking about that day made Nimrod's teeth chatter too. Here in the simulation, there was no escape, except for when your time was finally done. And tomorrow, was Nimrod's time. Finally.
***
"What do you mean there is an overflow problem?" a man said, sitting almost alone in an office. The only other person with him was another man, who was hovering over a keyboard.
"Here," the typist said, pointing at a computer screen. On it were thousands of lines of code, and a debugger was currently running through it. Stepping through each instruction. "This guy right here, Joseph Grady."
"What about him?"
"When his prison sentence ends tomorrow, it's going to break the system."
"Why?"
"The overflow problem, I already told you."
"What's going to happen?"
"I have no clue. It could probably break the entire simulated prison system."
"Are you saying that it might fry every single incarcerated person's brain?"
"I don't knoooow," the typist said. "All I know, is *something* is going to happen tomorrow when that value finally rolls over."
"Shit."
| 2022-05-19T20:24:45 | 2022-05-19T18:42:42 | 278 | 205 |
[WP] You give a dollar to an old man on the street. He immediately hands you his old, stinky shoes and promises that you can achieve anything you want while you are wearing them.
|
The shoes were falling apart, and and reeking of whatever the old man had stepped in all day. Ditchwater and urine, by the smell of it.
"Right, ok. So you wanted to achieve...homelessness?" Brandon asked, hoping his voice sounded merely curious, and not too sarcastic.
The old geezer looked down-trodden enough without adding mockery to the mix. He was covered in dirt, eyes wide as he pointed at the shoes and tried to explain, voice faltering a bit over the words.
"I - I travelled the world with those," he said, giving a wheezing little laugh that soon turned into a cough. "Seen what the world has to offer, old Benny did. I was like you once, ready to settle down and live a nice, normal life. Bought these shoes for on a whim and decided to take them for a spin. Best decision I ever made. Now you can take them further for me - I got a bad hip, can't really walk no more."
Benny's eyes pleaded with Brandon as he reluctantly took the shoes.
"Why give them to me, though? You don't even know me," Brandon asked. "Seems like they mean more to you than a dollar."
"Ah, well," Benny said, rubbing at his eyes as he found a smile for the boy. "You look like a good kid. Like a grandson I could have had, if I made the time for family instead of running all over the world. Always wanted to pass on something special to family before my time ends, you know?"
His voice trailed away, before he lit up again.
"But here you came along, and I knew I could have my wish after all. Family's what you make it, right?"
There was a fragile hope in the old man's eyes. Brandon managed not to wrinkle his nose as he removed his own loafers and pulled on the broken shoes.
"They're just wonderful," he said, and the man beamed happily. "Feels like I *can* do anything. You know, you're right - I think I'll go travel a bit too, it'd be a damn shame to waste such a good pair of shoes."
Benny nodded, hardly believing his ears. A moment ago, the boy had looked at him like he was crazy. Like everyone looked at him. "You really believe me, don't you?"
"Sure I do," Brandon said, and handed Benny his shoes in return. "Here, have mine in exchange. I won't be needing them anymore. Maybe they'll take you somewhere warm, huh?"
Benny pulled them on shyly, and closed his eyes at the sensation. Warm, whole shoes. He suddenly found the energy to stand up straight, and gave the boy a hug.
"You take good care of my shoes, alright?" Benny said. "They've taken me all over the world, you know."
" 'Course I will, and I'll pass them on one day too, I promise," Brandon said, and managed to wriggle out of the hug. Humouring the old guy was all well and good, but he still kind of needed a bath.
"That's all I've ever wanted, son," Benny laughed, and ducked out into the sun.
The old hip didn't seem to ache so much, right now. It was a lovely day, and he had new shoes on his feet. Maybe he even had enough energy to go for a walk - anything seemed possible, suddenly.
|
I grabbed the stinky shoes with the tips of my fingers, smiled at the old man, and continued walking down the street. As soon as I turned the corner I dropped them in a trash can without a second thought.
A hundred paces or so later I froze. Yes, I was late to an interview, and yes that old man was probably not telling the truth, but what if he was? What harm would there be in trying? I had been going to interview after interview for the past three months trying to get a job in this city without success. I could use some help, whatever smelly form it might take (after some disinfectant spray, of course).
I turned around to head back and get the shoes just in time to see another person pulling the shoes out of the trash can and putting them on their feet. I'd seen that person walking the same direction as me down the street. They must have overheard the old man. I crossed the street to be less obvious and followed them, curious what they would do.
They seemed to be in a hurry and have a lot of errands to do. First stop was the library where she printed some forms and sat filling them out for about an hour. I sat at another terminal behind a bank of computers idling away pretending to look busy. Second stop was the bank from which she emerged standing slightly taller. Third stop was the post office. Fourth stop was a letting agency where I sat on a park bench across the street and watched her comb through listings with an agent through their big glass front window for the rest of the afternoon.
She stayed in there until closing time, 6:30 PM. I was cold by this point, shivering actually, and very hungry, but obsessed with finding out if I had missed the opportunity of my life. When she left the letting agent she bumped into a man on the sidewalk and dropped a piece of paper. She didn't notice and continued on down the street. I darted across the road and picked up the sheet of paper. I had intended to run after her and hand it back but once I held it I couldn't resist. I stood there and read the paper. It was her application form for renting with the letting agent.
"Application for Commercial Letting -- Applicant Name: Violet Diaz -- Business name: Violet Bakes Cakes"
I'd been so engrossed in reading the paper that I'd lost sight of Violet. That was three years ago.
Since then I've managed to find a job. It's not a great job but it pays the bills. I've spent a lot of time wondering what my life would have been like if I'd put on those shoes. Maybe I'd have started a company, I've always wanted to make high class leather shoes. You know the ones with little decorative holes and smart lines, custom made for ultimate comfort? But I'm always tired when I get home from work, and there's always other things I need to do.
I've kept an eye on Violet and her company though, following Violet Bakes Cakes on Twitter and Facebook. She had started it that day and now has four shops across the city and still expanding. Apparently it had been her dream since she was a little girl to own her own cake store and now she has four. I am happy for her, truly I am. But ... why couldn't it have been me?
*Edit: Formatting
| 2017-07-22T02:14:09 | 2017-07-22T01:42:35 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] There is a (visible to everyone) sign that pops up above people's heads whenever they do something for the last time (eg. "This is the last poutine Snowtroopersarecool will eat"). A sign has just popped up. What does it say, and how do people react?
|
"I don't care," said Paul, "give me another rum and coke."
"Now, now let's not be too hasty," Jerry said, "the sign above your head--"
"Fuck the sign above my head. I'm sick of these stupid signs."
"Better safe than sorry, man. You don't want to tempt fate. What if I make you the drink and you die before you can drink it? What then?"
"I won't care then, now will I? Quit being a superstitious ass and make me another rum and coke."
Jerry relented and went to the kitchen to pour his friend a drink. He reached into the back of the refrigerator and pulled out the last can of Pepsi.
|
It's been a long fucking time, slim. A real long fucking time. A lifetime of late nights drinking Mountain Dew and smoking menthol cigarettes to advance the testing, now this one syringe holds the one extant dose of the final product. The mice seem to have become immortal, the rabbits seem to have become immortal.
"Let's do this thing." JD slides the needle in and hits the plunger. The sign pops up.
"JD has produced the last sign informing him of the last time he's done a given thing."
| 2014-06-21T08:17:30 | 2014-06-21T07:04:57 | 36 | 12 |
[WP] You are one of several Princes fighting in a battle royale to inherit the Kingdom. All the Princes get a God as a sponsor, who grants them boons and abilities. Powerful sponsors include gods like Zeus, Ra and Neptune. So, it was a surprise when you found out that your sponsor is Death.
|
I knew this contest would be the death of me. A last grand gesture of my father to ensure the rest of his aristocrat friends had something to be entertained by before a new king was crowned. It wasn't like him in his wisdom to search for bloodshed. It wasn't right, but I was the only one fit for the job.
I'd been at his side forever, even on his deathbed while my brothers conquered, pillaged, or negotiated their ways into fame and fortune. My practice at the sword was done in theory only, training in the castle yard. I figured this would be my end, the reward for my hard work and loyalty, and it wasnt fair.
So as I approached the empty altar my heart was heavy with dread and anger. I knelt before it, offering up my sword.
"Gods of our world, worthy of far more than praise, I ask you for your aid. As my brothers have received boons before me, I too ask for a boon. They have spent their lives searching for fame and fortune, but I search for justice only in terms of this tournament. I wish to survive this tournament and come out as king, the position I have trained for my whole life. Give me this boon and you will forever be praised by my people, and I will live my life according to how you'd want me to live, presiding as king over this great land, a humble servant to you just as I had been before to my father. I, Prince Kharos, beseech you for your gifts in this upcoming battle."
Then I waited in silence for too many moments before a chill ran over me. The candles' flame went blue. Someone had answered my plea, but it felt like I had been instead targeted. I stood and turned to face a dark-hooded man with his hands behind his back, face looking down and away from me.
"It is foolish, Kharos, to promise praise from a nation before knowing who your benefactor will be. You may find them unwilling, but I don't require it from them. I've gone on unacknowledged for many years now and I'm used to it."
The face turned up to look at me, hood peeled back to reveal the face of the dead king.
"But... Father it can't-?"
"And it isnt." He responded, before that face faded away to reveal an impassive looking skull. "It is an inevitable truth that all shall meet me at the end of their days, your father was no different. And neither will you be." Death spoke, letting his head fall again.
"Your brothers bring many to me. But how they do it brings me no pleasure. To receive these suffering souls to my arms and hear their cries that they were cut short, without reason, or that they had families, or goals, or that they were just starved children with entire futures ahead of them. The sadness they bring to my doorstep is an injustice I want you to repair."
At first I said nothing, unsure of what he meant by repair. Then I began to understand.
"Many who come to my embrace come with tears on their face. It isn't right. I think that this suffering has gone on long enough. Defeat your kin, subdue instead of kill. Rule your kingdom to prosperity and happiness, so that any death that comes from it comes from long and fulfilled lives, so that those who come to my arms no longer cry into my cloak. Teach your people to live well, and die knowing that things are alright." Death said, raising his head once again. His face had taken the shape of my mother's.
"Go forth, Kharos. You will find justice and victory." She said, and a kind of peace washed over me.
"Yes lord. I will do all that you ask."
|
Flashes of Golden light and booming thunder had been erupting from the grand temple all morning. But by the time Trast arrived the sky was streaked with red and the displays of divine power had simmered down to just the occasional tinkling of bells or harp solo.
If he'd had the choice he would've arrived even later or better still turned round and gone back to his library. But the laws were clear all princes must compete for the crown.
As soon as they crossed the temple threshold his keeper gently lowered Trast to the ground knowing that only princes could proceed past this point.
He spent a few moments finding his footing then began his slow hobbling journey to the altar his walking cane making loud clicking sounds as he shuffled along.
He knew that on either side of the walkway tucked away in well lit recesses were the Golden statues of the gods and in front of them stood their new champions. Some petty jealous part of him longed to look up and see which of his strong handsome brothers had were stood in front which statue. But he needed to focus on not falling and fixed his gaze to his own feet instead.
To their credit they waited until he almost halfway there before the assembled crowd started hurling insults. It was nothing he wasn't used to after all he'd had the misfortune to be born into a martial kingdom that worshiped strength and power, not exactly a place where cripples like him were made to feel welcome.
Wincing he bent down and placed his silver dagger onto the altar. Most divine sponsorship came in the form of weapon blessings and the modest dagger was just about the only weapon Trast could use.
Cringing against the stabbing pain he knelt his broken body, lowered his head as far as able and chanted.
"Gods by the blood of my ancestors grant me your patronage so that I might rise up and claim my rightful throne. In sacrifice I give one thousand talons of silver and one thousand of gold."
From the alcove to his right he heard his eldest brother shout out.
"Oh clear the altar you fucking troll I'm not going to stand here all day."
His twisted spine gave another spasm of pain, something deep inside his heart snapped and a wave of Icy fury overcame him.
"Alright forget the gold and fuck the silver. I'm leaving that to my keeper he deserves it more than any of you godly swan-fuckers"
There was a collective outroar from the audience and he could feel the heated glare of the priests on his back.
Another of his loving brothers bellowed out "You're going to die blasphemer"
Trast laughed a cold bitter pain-filled laughter.
"Oh well we all I know that I'm going to die tomorrow but I don't care, I just want to take one of you preening bastards with me. In fact I welcome death!"
The outrage and yelling was silenced as the hall filled with a strange melodic music that at once enthralled and terrified everyone present. A voice dull and monotone yet equally entrancing rang out.
"My child lay your cane upon the altar and you will need it no longer."
Trast didn't hesitate for he had nothing to lose. Struggling against his protesting joints he raised his cane and clumsily dropped in onto the altar.
He stood there arm outstretched waiting for the healing miracle to come. But it never did, instead his treacherous spine betrayed him for a final time and his body predictably fell forward like a toppled statue. His skull struck the stone surface hard. He felt the bitter tang of blood fill his mouth and his vision dim.
Then as he drew his final breaths a cloud of thick black smoke billowed out from the altar and enveloped Trast's dying body.
| 2018-11-14T09:21:33 | 2018-11-14T09:20:51 | 40 | 27 |
[WP] You put your 5-year-old daughter in an elevator by herself, and run to the next floor to make her laugh when the doors open. You get there, the elevator arrives and a 20-year-old woman steps out. "Hello Dad. We have a lot to talk about"
|
I put my 5 year old daughter, Emily, in the elevator, and waited until the doors closed before running down the hall to the stairs. I'd done this trick before, and seeing my daughter's 5 year old face light up filled me with an unforgettable sense of joy.
I heard the 'ding' just as I dismounted from the staircase on the first floor, and with no time to spare I haulted myself in my best casual pose just as the doors opened. Normally I'd hear her giggles before the door opened, then I'd see her soul-saving smile.
But that's not what happened this time.
"Hello Dad," an adult woman said. "We have a lot to talk about."
I knew it was impossible and yet I recognized the sincerity in her eyes. She was my Emily, alright. She looked to be around 20 years old.
"How is this possible?" I asked. My confusion didn't surprise Emily. She acted as if she'd spent considerable time preparing for this moment.
"We'll talk about that later, Dad. For now, let's just focus on what we're going to have for dinner." She said as we got back to the apartment.
I tried to remember what I had for groceries, but I hadn't done any shopping in a while. So I suggested that we order a pizza.
"Pizza is just fine, Dad." Grown up Emily said with a warm, yet heavy smile. There was something unsettling about the layered emotions in her face.
Before I could find the phone number for the nearest pizza place, there was a knock at the door.
"I've got it." Emily insisted as she got out of her chair.
A few moments later she returned with the pizza.
"How are you doing this?" I asked, astonished. "I need you to tell me what's going on."
"Dad, I know you're probably a little freaked out right now, and that's normal," Emily said as she peered deep into my soul. "But what I'm about to tell you is going to require a lot of courage, do you understand?"
"Yes." I said to the young lady. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
"You have Alzheimer's."
---
Edit: Wow! Thank you for all the kind words, the gold, the platinum, the silver! I was not expecting this. You guys made my day. I'm glad you enjoy the story. :)
|
“Hello, Dad we have a lot to talk about and I don’t have a lot of time.”
She had the same dark brown eyes and dark black hair as my little girl. A birthmark on her right check just like Olivia’s. There was a scar on her forehead that I didn’t know. I shook my head. This was some twisted prank.
“Please, believe me. I don’t have a lot of time to explain. There had to be an equal exchange. For me to come, Young Olivia had to go back or rather forward. It’s temporary. It’s been hard for us to pinpoint days and times to warn others from the Before. But this memory of the elevator game was so strong from the Before that I knew it would work.”
“What are you talking about?” I felt panicked holding open the elevator door looking for my daughter. “What happened to my daughter?” I demanded loudly.
“Dad, I am your daughter or at least will be.” She choked on a sob. Tears dropped down her face in a wild messy manner. “I had so many things that I wanted to say and damn it, I’ve botched it all. You have five years until it happens when life changes for everyone on this planet. You have to start preparing now. There are others that the Resistance have contacted to make sure this future doesn’t pass.”
She handed me a notebook. It was my own handwriting, but I had never seen it before. With trembling hands, I took it.
“I’ve got to go.” She said stepping back in the elevator. “I love you, Dad. I just want to say that one more time.”
“I love you, too” I reached out to squeeze her hand as the elevator shut before I could touch her.
The elevator door dinged again and there was my little Liv. She looked a little confused and was holding a worn looking teddy bear. I took her in my arms hugging her tightly. We went back up the apartment. I put on some cartoons to distract her as she babbled about being in a white room filled with people. I took the tattered teddy bear to my room and compared it to the brand new bear that I bought for her birthday next week. They were the same except for the wear and tear. I looked at the notebook. I had a lot of reading to do tonight.
| 2019-09-07T22:18:13 | 2019-09-07T21:43:45 | 6,170 | 45 |
[WP] The Crips and the Bloods ally with each other against ISIS. The world laughs as thousands of gang members board a cruise ship and set sail for the Middle East. The two gangs land on the shores of Syria and begin their fight against ISIS.
Let's see how the two gangs fare.
EDIT: These are great, guys! Thanks for all the stories. I've read some, and I'll read the rest later.
|
"So, uh, I have to ask...why are you out here? Why this?"
"Just tryin'a be the realest, you know? See, we a brotherhood. But we also a business. We tryin'a incorporate. What's that phrase? Divide and conquer? Well, we gonna do the opposite - we gonna have a merger. Bloods and Crips, cats and rats, comin' together for the first time. We the competition now. We trust bustin', you know? Undercuttin'.
See we was killin' each other over piddly shit - corner here, corner there, someone wearin' the wrong colors, *this dude sellin' on MY block?* Turns out that's bad business. We see this as a long-term investment. We goin' legitimate. This is a hostile takeover. This more than just a couple corners.
We doin' what the rest of the world don't wanna do, and we makin' money off of it. Ain't no one can touch us. All them old folks back in 'Merica sittin' in front of they TVs used be afraid of us, call the cops on us, close they blinds when when we roll down they street...now they cheerin' us. They buyin' stock.
Ain't no more east side west side bullshit. Now this the Far East Side. This our corner now."
|
Waves lap at the shore a young Syrian child picks up a stone to throw at the water her eyes are flooded war has ravaged the city and the future is un-certain a hermet crab catches her eye but a loud thud causes the creature to re-enter its shell, the child runs fearing another bombing raid but her gaze is fixated on the open sea as a blue red craft appears on crest of a wave, the hermit is now bouncing from the shock-waves but it soon becomes clear that the harrowing sound is not a form of artillery but very heavy bass.
"Where the hood, where the hood, where the hood at?
Have that nigga in the cut, where the wood at?
Oh, them niggaz actin up?!? Where the wolves at?
You better BUST THAT if you gon pull that".
Gleaming chrome jets scream through the water as one of the most pimp vehicles known to man strikes the beach with twerking force of a thousand ho's, the top of the craft appears to be made of platinum as the top starts to rotate a thick cloud of smoke creeps from the gold plated gaps and an african gentlemans face is revealed, smoking a joint worthy of Rick James himself, his eyes narrow as he stares at the fortified mosque over the horizon "time to roll on these bitch ass niggas"
| 2015-12-07T10:16:15 | 2015-12-07T09:25:02 | 46 | 10 |
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence has 20 words, 2nd sentence has 19, 3rd has 18 etc. Story ends with a single word.
[CW] Write a short story where the first sentence has 20 words, 2nd sentence has 19, 3rd has 18 etc. Story ends with a single word
|
The rain ran in rivulets along the window, a barrage of droplets chasing each other downwards in fits and starts. Baxter smiled and turned his head, eager to show the old man, but he was asleep by the fire.
There wasn't really much surprise there, of course; the old man didn't do anything *but* sleep these days. His bark was soft and weak, barely capable of calling the humans in from the next room. The proud black hairs that surrounded his muzzle had dulled to an anaemic grey long ago. When he walked, his back leg dragged behind him; the humans pretended not to notice. Even if he *had* been interested, reaching the window would have been almost impossible.
Baxter pawed the glass, wondering how the rain would feel on his fur. Cool, no doubt -- cool and refreshing, even with the winter's chill. *That would get the old man excited for sure,* Baxter thought. *No time for sleeping when there are puddles to enjoy.*
After one last look outside, he pulled himself away. The puppy crossed over to the old man. With a spin, he lowered himself down.
*In the summer*, Baxter thought happily. *We'll play in the summer. There's plenty of time.*
His eyes drooped.
They slept.
Together.
_____
If you liked this story, you can find more over at /r/Portarossa.
|
"This event has been a completely unprecedented deviation from the admirably consistent efficacy of this institution's past," said Administrator Yu. She was a middle-aged woman who looked fifty, but she was tall, blocking out a large chunk of stars. As Administrator of the Ring Corporation, she wore the golden epaulettes of seniority over her crisp white uniform. She was, undeniably, the most imposing figure in that room, and now, her words held cold disappointment.
"This honourable institution has worked tirelessly, without incident and without delay for thirty-odd earth-years," she lied. There had been some incidents, but no one had ever dared to make them public. "However, I hear that work has stopped and that the rings are spinning away. Who, might I ask, can tell me why the miners have stopped working?"
Bravely, an older gentleman in a grey coordinator's uniform cleared his throat. "At noon, yesterday, we received an incomplete transmission from the rings. No further signals came whatsoever, suggesting the miners had stopped."
"You say that someone at Saturn stopped the miners?" No one added the disconcerting thought, 'or something'.
On cue, lights flickered across the station. Red emergency signals turned themselves on.
*Alone in orbit,* thought Yu.
Shadows across the stars.
Fear through spines.
*The End.*
*Run.*
| 2017-01-14T18:21:32 | 2017-01-14T15:54:43 | 159 | 13 |
[WP] If your death is imminent, time stops for everyone but you. This allowed you to cheat death on many occasions by avoiding all sorts of danger except for now - you have no idea whats threating your life. Its been a year since time stopped.
|
I've been cursed with a terrible form of immortality. Every time my death is but moments away, time grind to a halt for everyone. And while I am still able to manipulate my suroundings to some degree, i do not age, hunger, require sleep or otherwise feel the passage of time.
I know this because time has stood still for a year and will not start before i remove myself from whatever danger is threatening my life.
The first time it hapened was in my car. Avoiding a cat, or maybe a small dog, I swerved into the path of a truck on the highway. Before it was too late, time ceased. I left the car in the state of almost shock a near brush with death gives. As i walked around the scene, time resumed and the truck slammed into my driverless vehicle. Thankfully noone else was hurt.
The second time, a fire broke out at work. Trying to evacuate time stopped and I found myself unable to open the emergency exit to the stairwell. It ended after i had resolved to climb down an escape laddar outside. Turns out 320 people died trying the stairwells as a delivery service had "momentarily" blocked it. It occured to me that my ability to affect the world was tied to my chances of survival. I cannot, for example, jump out a window on the 20th floor. If the window is closed, i simply cannot open it. If its open, i cannot make the jump. The movements necessary prove themselves impossible.
It is with some regret I now realise placing myself in an airplane was a less than stellar idea.
The floor is angled some 67 degrees and I assume there is a gaping hole in the side of the plane. Or there is a raging fire in the cabin. Perhaps a terrorist will blow it up, or a missile is moments from impact. I dont think I ever will know. I am in the toilet, the thin door refusing to open.
|
I started keeping my own personal time by counting cycles of my fingernails growing; I clipped them every three weeks before time stopped. Every time before, time stopped for only a short period. Once, it was a car swerving out of control, headed in my direction. Another, a crazed gunman at university. Once I had removed myself from the situation, everything returned to normal, with no one else any the wiser. This time was different; I've clipped my nails 17 times. Nearly a year, give or take, of time that I've spent alone in this world.
I still come home to you every night. There you are, never moving, with your favorite show on the television. It's paused on a scene I've come to memorize every pixel of. I take a seat next to you on the couch and pretend that you're here with me still.
You'd be surprised how clean the house stays when you aren't here. The trash doesn't pile up in the can or in every corner of the house. You'd be surprised how quiet the house is when you're gone. Instead of the daily screaming matches we would find ourselves in, the only thing I can hear is the sound of my own thoughts. The thing I find myself the most surprised by is the feeling of freedom that I have; I've left the house without an angry phone call. I don't have to worry you're going to show up at my work when I have to stay late. I've even went to see my parents a few times.
*Your eyes, though frozen in time, still held that fire that I loved so much. I noticed, however, that they were not fixated solely on the television like I had assumed all this time. They seemed to be glancing slightly to the left: the safe I kept my pistol in.* That's when I realized.
_________________
*Edited ending.*
| 2018-07-04T15:51:37 | 2018-07-04T14:24:46 | 4,562 | 1,474 |
[WP] Every human has something they're the best in the world at. Anything from flying planes to tying your shoes, stealing, or murder. There's a movement to kill all people with negative gifts. Someone comes in your home to interrogate you. You're the best at lying, she's the best at detecting lies.
|
I knocked on the door… a bit louder than I wanted to, but it was barely 7am and I wasn’t sure that he was awake.
A minute later, a groggy-looking man with two day stubble opened the door and mumbled, “Can I help you.”
I cleared my throat, “I’m Jody. Can I come in?” His eyes widened subtly, so I added, “It’s about the Negative Gift Control Initiative. I think that we need each other.”
The door opened. I walked in. He gestured towards a sofa. I took off my shoes on the rug and sat down.
“I’m listening,” he said tersely. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“I saw you on TV about a decade ago. I think it was on a morning show. A crew had followed you around with a hidden camera to show your incredible talent for lying. I’ll never forget it. I turned it on partway through and so I missed the introduction and didn’t know the context at first. There you were, chatting up store clerks and post office employees and that fat judge at traffic court and each thing you said was a blatant lie.
I was only about 13 at the time and the whole thing was weird. I could see in your aura that everything you said was a lie, but then they cut to the hosts who were astonished at your gift for lying. I always knew that I was good at spotting fibs, but it wasn’t until then that I realized it was my gift. You’re the best in the world at lying. I’m the best in the world at detecting lies.” I paused.
“So why are you here again?” He looked irritated.
“You don’t have a negative talent.” I blurted out. I took a deep breath, "I am scheduled to visit you today at 10am with my colleague, who is the world’s greatest persuasive speaker. We’re supposed to convince you to come with us. If you do, you’ll end up in prison and eventually you’ll be found guilty and sentenced to execution. But it’s not right.” I saw a flash of anger go across his face, as he struggled to retain his composure.
“You’re a human lie detector. You would know better than anyone how harmful lies are,” He stated flatly. His aura was glowing purple as he said this.
“We both know that you don’t believe that.”
“True.” He said. The purple glow was gone.
"All I could think of when I saw you on my list for today was the end of that show. You told your sick wife that you would keep her safe. It was a lie, but like so many lies it was a good lie. It was a comforting lie. It was the right thing to say." He reflexively glanced over at a photo on the wall of a happy young couple and back at me.
I looked down at my toes and continued. “My talent is far more dangerous. I detected a hidden Fire Starter last week who only ever used his gift to light candles in church. He's in prison now. I find lies even when I don’t want to. My colleague is dangerous too… Just yesterday, he convinced a new mom to handover her newborn twins because they appear to be Parseltongues. As if there is something innately evil about talking to snakes.” We made eye contact. I sighed. “I’m done.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you think that we should team up and put an end to this.” He said.
I nodded.
His demeanor shifted. “I’m in. So what do we do now?”
|
"Hello," Sarzi opened the door with a smile.
"Hello, hi," the woman who had knocked answered with her own smile. "I'm Olivia, I'm here for our appointment?"
Olivia held a clipboard.
"Yes, of course!" Sarzi kept beaming. "Come in! Come in!" She stepped out of the doorway and gestured the woman inside.
"Lovely home," Olivia said as she entered.
"Thank you, we're very happy here," Sarzi responded. "Can I take your coat?"
"Not necessary, I don't want to take up too much of your time."
"Of course," said Sarzi, "We could sit in here, if you like." Gesturing now to the living room off the foyer, Sarzi led the way to a place where the two could sit and talk. She took a seat on the couch herself and motioned to a chair for Olivia.
"Thank you," Olivia said, sitting down and resting her clipboard across her knees. "So why don't we just jump right in?"
"Wonderful, yes, why don't we?"
Olivia looked over the form on her clipboard as she began to speak. "So - what is your gift?" Her head snapped up and she eyed Sarzi intently as she finished the question.
"Well," Sarzi tilted her head slightly and her eyes drifted up towards the ceiling briefly as she considered, "I believe it's my ability to stay calm."
Olivia's eyebrows raised slightly. "Interesting," she wrote on the form without looking down. "And when did you realize you had this gift?"
"Yeah, you know I don't think I realized that was *my gift*," she added emphasis, "until I had kids. It never really occurred to me until then. But with all the stress..." Sarzi interrupted herself to ask, "Do you have kids?"
Olivia nodded that she did.
"Yes, well, you know, with all the stress that went along with our first born - or, should go along with it, I suppose - I suddenly realized I was perfectly calm about everything." She relaxed back into the couch a bit before continuing. "My husband was a mess," she laughed, "but I just had no... no stress, I guess. I was always calm."
"I see," Olivia said, now looking down to continue writing, "that must be a blessing!"
Sarzi laughed, "Yes, I suppose so. I don't know anything different though, of course, but I'm told I'm very lucky."
Olivia hummed agreement as she finished writing.
"Anyway, then I thought back and realized I couldn't ever remember *not* feeling calm," Sarzi said, "so I figured that must be my gift."
Olivia watched her as she finished and for a moment, silence hung between them.
"Okay, that will do it, I think," Olivia said, standing up.
"Oh, excellent, okay," Sarzi stood up as well and gestured politely back towards the foyer.
The two women made their way back to the front door and Sarzi opened it for Olivia.
"We'll let you know if there is anything else we need," Olivia said.
"Of course," Sarzi responded. "Happy to help - you know where to find me."
They each smiled politely at each other, and Olivia departed.
Sarzi closed the door behind her and sighed.
*That was easy.*
---
/r/NAChesney for more.
| 2020-07-23T12:08:36 | 2020-07-23T11:10:42 | 64 | 28 |
[WP] A little girl is terrified of the monster under her bed, but what she doesn't know is that the monster under her bed protects her from the true monsters - her parents. You are that monster.
Thanks for the huge amount of responses! Loving most all of them, thank you! Sorry it was a bit simplistic though.
|
For centuries, men have cursed me and mine. Millennia, even. I'm not sure quite when they forgot what we really are, but they still fear us, still make their movies about us. They are still ours to kill.
This one thinks he knows what otherworldly dangers lurk for him. He thinks he has found the solution in books. Ha! As though books ever saved a man. Learning to read and write has only ever brought mankind trouble, just as it bought the bastards upstairs trouble, and now they're more or less gone, forgotten just like I am. But I never needed the love of humans to survive.
His two children are asleep in this awful paisley cell they call a bedroom. The ghastly painting of a bleeding Judean hangs from the wall, reminding them of the punishment that will be visited upon them if ever they dare defy their father. I was not personally there when all the business happened in the Middle East but I know some who were, and they don't recall this man saying anything about bludgeoning your daughter with a belt because she went for coffee with a male classmate. They don't say anything about turning a cold hose on your son because his eyes lingered too long on a scandalous advert. Nothing is said about getting a priest to exorcise your newborn because she cried all the way through Christingle. *She's allergic to oranges you fucking apes.*
That was when I was brought into the house. The medic called to the scene, a Ms Patel, was kicked out for suggesting the baby had had a reaction to the holy items. As she left, she had muttered an invocation to her own gods and opened the house to our kind.
I'm nothing to do with her religion, but it's close enough. It's all the same when you get down to it, and so I padded in to find the newborn on a table, struggling to breathe under a half dozen trinkets and talismans, having 'holy water' flicked at her face as she screamed for the care of a mother whose mind was too full of demons and sin to take pity on her wailing baby.
They called me Satan's hound when I came snarling through the door Ms Patel had left open. They screamed and cried for their God, snatched their crying child and ran like cowards. When they finally worked up the courage to return, they thought I had gone of my own accord.
But I am still here. I lie awake, man's best friend, though he doesn't know it. Their tepid artworks portray angels as having the faces of humanity, but that's a grand arrogance. I have been roaming the world since darkness and forest and death was all that lurked beyond the campfire for the first upright apes, and I have been both protecting and persecuting them ever since they first got themselves noticed.
And now he bursts through the door.
A phone call from a young boy, apparently. He wanted to talk to Charity.
Charity knows what's about to happen.
Her brother Isaac wants to stop it, but he's only 13. He's not big enough to handle his father, who is brandishing a belt like a whip.
But I've seen this before. Long ago, before this man's nailed god was even a thought in a prophet's subconscious, I ripped my way through a northern king's hall and ate him whole, devoured him for the abuse he gave his young son, his little boy who was so different.
I leap, and I see the same fear in this mewling man I saw in *his* eyes. His cubs are mine to protect now.
That ancient northern king, upon whom I first vented my wrath, did give me one thing.
His title.
I am the All-Father.
My newest children wail, not understanding that their All-Father has to be cruel for their sakes, but no matter.
I cannot hear them over the clack of jaws and snap of bones.
|
This life. Nobody likes me. I sit here hiding--every...damn...day. I just want a friend, and when I come out to play at night, she screams. Her parents come into the room and here I am, once again, hiding. It would be great if I could enjoy the daylight, but my skin and eyes are extremely-sensitive to the artificial lights. It sucks. What sucks even worse? Her parents never take time to spend with her, and she has no idea.
I want to cry, because although my parents left me at an early age, I at least had the love and affection from my grandparents. Caylee doesn't. Day after day, she's locked in our room; well, I say "our", but I'm sure you know what I mean. One would think a 3-year old would be running around, smiling, playing with toys. No, not Caylee. She sits off to the side of the room, against her favorite wall...coloring. Eyes with dark circles, pale complexion. Her parents bring her food and drinks, but don't really interact with her at all. She begs them to play with her, but they are way too busy and give her false promises.
"We'll play tomorrow, sweetie", she hears.
It never happens. Her smile, once bright--has now faded.
All those colorful drawings of her family..they've...they've gone gray. As much as I want to hold her, the only closeness I can share with her is looking at her artwork under the bed while she sleeps. Maybe one day when she's older, she'll understand that I'm not the bad guy. Anyway, as I was saying. It's been about 8 months since I saw her first picture. She's definitely improved as a little artist, but damn... these colors are killing me. There's obviously something wrong. What went from her, mom, dad, brother, has now become just her...and me. I'm pretty sure she wants to be my friend, but I look nothing like her--and that scares her. I don't even dare to attempt playing with her at night anymore.
It's been a couple of days now, and I haven't heard anything from her. No creaks from the bed, no pitter-patter from her feet hitting the ground running, and no sign of her coloring off in the corner. I guess they left while I was sleeping. Maybe they are on vacation? I don't know. That can't be it, because the odd thing is that I still heard her parents.
I was lonely before, but man...now I'm really getting lonely.
Part 2
It's been 3 days now, and although I hear her parents on the other side of the door, I don't think they've come in here for a few days, unless I was sleeping. The door still appears to be locked--odd. Then I heard something... a wimper. This wimper sounded painful. Risking it all, I slipped out from underneath the bed, skin starting to burn. I can't help but wonder where my Caylee is? I searched the room frantically, throwing pillows, blankets, toys everywhere. I knew something was wrong--my gut told me so. I hear crying the closer I get to her bookshelf. Then things got quiet--did she hear me?
Then it happened.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Mommy? Daddy?"
My heart sank.
"I love you Mommy. Mommy I'm hungry."
What the... It came from the bookshelf?! I quickly pressed my hands and head against the wall to peek behind it, and there it was...a silver doorknob, twisting quietly. The twisting stops and then I see her little fingers reaching out from underneath the door...reaching for a small pile of crayons just out of reach. I push them towards her and she pulls them in.
| 2014-05-14T14:54:22 | 2014-05-14T14:24:08 | 25 | 18 |
[WP] You are the prophesied hero, who was whisked away from another world and is destined to vanquish evil. This is the fifth time it happened and you're getting real tired of it.
|
Ava’s first step down the aisle spat her out on a stone dais in the courtyard of a castle, the wedding march replaced by the distant screams of the townsfolk outside the walls and the roar of the demons attacking them.
She still wore her wedding dress and she was *furious.*
A richly dressed matron wearing a diadem set with purple stones watched her from a purple balcony, eyes clearly beseeching even in the torchlit darkness of the night Ava had stepped into. From her left side a wizard approached removing a pointed hat respectfully before bowing low in front of her.
“Hero,” he said in a quavering voice, “the people of Eltoria humbly beg your aid!”
Ava had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow someone so badly in her life.
“How many are there and what magic do they have?” the barely contained rage in her voice made the mage’s head snap up in shock. It wasn’t fair she thought, she’d already given her life to this idiotic prophesy and now only moments away from starting one of her own she was back here again.
The wizard stood to his full, imposing height face, his face deathly pale. “The fire demons assault the walls in the hundreds, our army is helpless to stop them. Can you save us my lady?”
She could and she would, but there would be hell to pay in doing it. Ava looked up to the statuesque noblewoman on the balcony (was she a queen, a duchess, something else?) and spoke more rashly and defiantly than she had in any world before.
“Look at this dress,” she said, voice booming in the courtyard, “commit every detail of it to memory. Before I leave this world I expect your best seamstresses to make a new one exactly like it. Exactly. You are not taking my wedding away from me.”
The noblewoman nodded once, there was an air of refined grace to her that Ava felt drawn to. Perhaps this world wouldn’t be all bad.
With visions of her fiance and the priest burned into her mind Ava walked over to the nearest guardsman, pulled his shortsword from its sheath, and trailing a finger down the center of the blade she spoke a word of power. The metal seemed to glow white hot under her touch, stretching, hardening, becoming the sword she had carried through all her battles in all the worlds since she first stepped out of a portal wide eyed and innocent at the age of 16. *Anguisette*, the thin and impossibly quick rapier she had grown to love.
With its blade she slit long gashes up the sides of her dream dress, freeing herself for the battle to come. She cast off her veil, handing it to the astonished wizard, and set her heels in the guard’s outstretched hands.
Barefoot, Ava stalked through the streets of the castle and the town below, towards the sullen fires burning in the distance, the screams of men and beasts echoing through the night.
She was going to walk down that aisle.
\-------------------------
If you enjoyed that I've got tons more over at r/TurningtoWords! I'm currently working on a serial about a savescumming superhero and there's other fun stuff like a wholesome take on Bloody Mary or a bloodthirsty mermaid roommate. I'd love to have you!
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The army of the terrible Demon King charged towards me. And I couldn't care less. Been there, done that. Four armies vanquished, an exemplary record, and my reward? Another army to kill. The Time Lords had no regard for the feeling of boredom. Time never got bored of ticking. But I did. And today will be my salvation, today the demon army shall run me over, and it will be the end of it.
Or so I thought. But I was strong, much too strong. The flaming arrows slid right off my body. The blades weren't sharp enough to even graze my skin. Bored by their incompetence, I ran roughshod on them. Every single one of them killed. Now only the Demon King remained.
And boy, he was strong. The strongest of the five, I'd say. Good gear too: dragonhide armour, black metal sword, platinum shield, and lightning boots. A good man to lose my life to.
He charged at me, and I put my shield up -- courtesy, you know, one can't just give up. His sword clanged against my shield. The force of his blow pushed me onto my heels. I drew my shield back and slashed at the Demon King, but his dragonhide armour smothered my blow, and he dropped his shield and punched me hard in the gut.
Now, I know I wanted to die, to end it all, but I didn't come to get beaten up. I wanted a nice clean death, no goring involved. Clearly, the Demon King was operating on a different wavelength. So, I did what needed to be done.
Slouched against his fist, my hands reached down to his lightning boots, and I mixed his laces up. The Demon King threw me a good three feet away, but I was smiling. He didn't know why, but you know demons, they don't like a smartass.
Muscles bulging, the Demon King picked his platinum shield up and leapt towards me. But you know, his laces were mixed up, and with leather boots that wouldn't have mattered, but his were lightning boots. And they crackled when he leapt at me, and the crackling grew ever louder, and the lightning grew ever stronger until it burnt the Demon King to crisp.
Damn, I didn't expect the boots to blow up like that. The Demon King was dead now. Evil, gone. Maybe, it's a good thing. This could be it -- promotion!
But you know the Time Lords, they're party poopers.
"Well done!" the voice in the sky said.
"It's my honour." I had to say that -- it was written in the manual.
"Your tireless efforts have not escaped our notice. And we have a gift for you."
Nothing to get excited about, they had to say it too, protocol.
"Not many heroes have the honour to be called so in five worlds. And now you shall be given the opportunity to go for a record six!"
"It's my honour," I said.
And the voice in the sky stopped. And now I will be beamed up, again. Then I'll be beamed down, again. Time Lords, do us a favour and get a life.
| 2020-12-31T06:56:07 | 2020-12-31T06:53:19 | 121 | 61 |
[WP] Every person has a button they can press at night that deposits a large sum of money to their bank account. However, the first person to press it each night is horrifically killed.
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The world's population of 7.4 billion is shrunk by .0000049 percent of its population each year due to the button's victims. Meanwhile, 2 billion people starve in the first year as money is devalued; everyone has essentially the same income for doing nothing which results in massive inflation and lack of goods (see Venesuela).
Eventually new currencies are constructed, free of the button's ruined currencies. The world rebuilds. We all wonder what sadistic god visited this plague in guise of blessing on us in the first place.
|
I looked at her as she looked back
We looked at the button, unassuming black
We kissed deeply, in the matte dark
We looked at the button, the paradigm Mark
I looked at her as she looked back
Fear and emotion and a need for no lack
We kissed as we pushed, together, in tandem
What happened next, was far from random
| 2016-07-16T17:32:43 | 2016-07-16T17:08:32 | 52 | 12 |
[WP] You are the best in the world at what people consider a useless talent. Today is the day you prove them all wrong.
|
"…So, I have to ask. Under your qualifications, you listed that you have a 100% win streak from playing over thousands of games of Freecell, as well as various other versions of solitaire, including 4-suit spider solitaire, 40 thieves, and seahaven towers. Why exactly *did* you put that on your resume?"
"All due respect, but have you ever tried playing those games? They're difficult to win, but not impossible. I've simply mastered the art. I win every time. Do you know why?"
"Because you have way too much free time on your hands?"
"…While I'm not disputing that fact, and that is actually another reason why you should hire me, as it means that I will be able to commit fully to the position, I'd also like to point out that maintaining a 100% win streak requires extreme attention to detail and serious critical thinking. Within any given presented scenario, I will immediately analyze every single detail and placement of the variables, and execute every move only after planning for what will happen several moves in advance. Because I've developed this skill, I have a 100% success rate regardless of how many variables are initially presented, and within any random configuration. Furthermore, my analytical skill set has developed to the point where problem solving, even when dealing with hundreds of variables, takes all but a matter of minutes."
"…You're joking."
"The win streak doesn't lie."
|
"Mr. President, the country of Lesotho has just dropped nuclear bombs on several major American cities. We must retaliate!"
"Yes, a despicable action such as this can be met with nothing but the same amount of force. There's just one problem. Where is Lesotho?"
"Oh, it's right over by... It's just south of... It's on the continent of... It's on planet... Earth? I think?"
"Well, we can't just nuke Earth, can't you be more specific?"
Suddenly, the door to the oval office is kicked down, and standing in the frame is a scrawny kid who obviously hasn't seen the sun in days.
"Mr. President, the country of Lesotho is a small enclave within the country of South Africa, which is the southernmost country on the continent of Africa. It's capital is Maseru, just East of the city of Bloemfontein."
"Promote this kid to Secretary of Defense and get the nukes dropped on Maseru right away!"
"Mr. President, the country of Tuvalu has threatened to attack our West coast with its navy!"
"Send a squadron to defend the West coast this instant, and send a retaliatory force to..."
"The Pacific Ocean, just north of Fiji, sitting on top of the International Date Line."
"You're a godsend, kid."
| 2015-11-25T08:54:23 | 2015-11-25T07:24:11 | 64 | 47 |
[WP] A field surgeon in a fantasy world has performed life saving surgery on many an orc war band before, unwittingly becoming blood brothers with most of his patients. In his darkest days, his extended family comes to offer their hands.
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Florence's knees hurt. they always hurt these days. This was a hot one. Why do they always pick the hottest days to do their killing? She harrumphed.
There was no more time for her aches and pains or harrumphs. The first clash had happened. The rest of the day was the whirlwind of triage. Who to save. Who was past saving and had earned something to dull the pain as they crossed from this world to the next.
She snuck more into those draughts than the church would allow. Old magic. Forbidden to women and yet so much a part of her they would have to burn her alive before they could burn it from here. Out here on the fronts she hoped to go unnoticed. The men had taken to calling her Lucky Flo, the Orcs though. They had another word for her: Brother.
Oh, she'd argued with Kilrik, the massive greenskin sergeant who'd translated what they were calling her. He'd replied, "Jakka Flo no woman. Jakka Flo bleeds battle not children." And that was that.
In less than a year from that battle the inquisition came for her. Somehow they'd gotten one of her draughts. When her screams rang out over the camp as the witch finders sought to drive her power from her the men hid in their tents and spoke softly about what a shame it was for dear Flo.
Not so for the Orcs. The churchmen had only one cleric among them and though he called upon his angels to protect him and soldiers of the faith cut them deeply the Orcs fought with a ferocity few ever lived to tell about.
After the killing was done some of the men came round and stood with their Flo. They set put across the black wastes and that's how our land became the Queendom of Jakka Flo.
|
The orcs live long and are hard to kill. Not that many generations ago the old prejudices might've held true - the orcs had numbers and strength and endurance but they weren't smart or fast. They were fearless and quick to anger and to throw themselves into combat. .
Well, those prejudices might not be all wrong, even now. But they're not all right by a long shot. Here's one most folk don't know though; they are slow to grow and replace their number. That's something *he* found out. Who's he you ask? The surgeon. The surgeon is a man like you or I. But he's also one of them. I mean, not bodily, obviously. But *tribally* I guess you'd call it. The surgeon knows, knows a lot about them orcs. And how, you ask? How does a man of healing, and an educated man at that, come to throw his lot in with the near-beasts as some would call them.
The answer is simpler than you might first expect. The surgeon was a good student by all accounts, from a rich family in the capital, educated in the Citadel, the most prestigious institution of our time, may be of all time. Educated *to a point*. This time in our history was full of change, religious, political, medical and scientific. Expanding population and exploration led us to discover a new land. A land with untapped resources but unimaginable chaos and terror. The emerging use of robust experimentation - observation, repetition and standardisation were framed as challenges to the religious dogma and by extension the ruling elite. Since we were newly at war with this terror from a far away land the people sided with the theocrats. To quash any possibilities of insurrection, those opposed to or associated with organisations that openly opposed the oppressive restrictions
TBC
| 2020-09-08T19:30:12 | 2020-09-08T17:41:28 | 41 | 14 |
[WP] A stereotypical high-school anime, but the main character's childhood best friend is an incredibly loud and proud American girl that comes from the heart of Texas.
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Fujiwara Sakura sat on the ground, books tumbled all around her. Kitagawa Senpai and her posse of bullies were gathered around her laughing, after they had just pushed her down. She was so mad that tears stood in her eyes, but she forced a smile. "I'm sorry, Senpai."
Kitagawa clicked her tongue, clearly irritated. "Apologizing even now?" She leaned forward, seizing Fujiwara by the hair and lifting her face. "Listen, four-eyes, you have to stop hanging out with Nakamura-kun. He's mine! You're not even good enough for him, and-"
"What in tarnation is going on here!?" a tall blonde girl appeared, a full head taller than everyone else present, and chock full of farmstock muscles.
"Mind your own business, bitch," Kitagawa grit her teeth. "We're having a conversation between pals."
"Now I ain't all hip to yer culture yet here, but I ain't ever seen a friend that holds their hair like that. She ain't looking real happy here, so why don't you turn her loose and git yerselves moving along...little dogies," she said with an easy smile, approaching slowly and setting a firm hand on Kitagawa's shoulder and squeezed.
Kitagawa cried out and released Fujiwara, buckling under the force of her grip. The other bullies backed away fearfully, and one took off running.
"That's real nice, now, ain't it?" the blonde girl drawled almost lazily. "Now why don't you and yours move out 'fore I show y'all some good Texas wrastlin'?"
A teacher rounded the hall with one of the bullies who had run. At sight of the girls, he shouted and bolted toward the American girl, who released her grip and stepped back with her hands up.
Kitagawa held her strained shoulder, and started sobbing and begging the teacher to be saved from the American beast.
Fujiwara said nothing under the stealthy glares of the bullies, whose threatening gazes suggested she dare not say a word.
The blonde girl was escorted away and the bullies dispersed, leaving Fujiwara to flee from the scene in peace, but not before stopping to still the fierce pounding in her chest.
The blonde girl was...beautiful.
...
The next day she avoided walking in with her neighbor Nakamura. After the incident with the bullies, she was terrified of being seen with him. It was all the more heartbreaking that he was so sad to miss her company, and never knew why she now avoided him.
Yet the bullies never came and bothered her after that. Not when...
"Howdy, Sakura!" the blonde girl beamed as she met her on the way to school.
"Abernathy-san!" she gasped, surprised from her brooding thoughts. Then came a fierce blush. "Good morning..."
"Aw, that's awful sounding. I wish y'all'd use my real name," she pouted.
"H...Hanna...chan..." Fujiwara stammered out. "H...hi..."
"Atta gal, Saki!" Hanna beamed brightly, slinging her arm over her shoulder. "We're real partners now! We'll be giggling over sodas in two shakes of a lambs tail, just you wait and see."
Fujiwara laughed nervously, but something in her was...happy. The bullies stayed away with Hanna around, so life got a lot more peaceful.
Or it would have been if the giant crush she had on the blonde American would stop making her so awkward.
|
“Howdy Felix!” She said, calling me by my first name. I cringed, some boys eyeing me jealously. “That darn thing there’s the hoot these days,” she continued, pointing at the newest gadget from the science club.
“Er... not exactly, Hudson Chan,” I said, scratching my head. How exactly would I explain this gear? I was indeed interested in technology, but the nerds and geeks were far beyond me. Before I could explain, my other friend Dula Chan interrupted me.
“Baka, why would you get something that you don’t even know how to use?” Dula Chan teases, pouting her mouth. “And you, Hudson San, don’t think you can get so close to him, he hasn’t even accepted you on a first name basis! Only I can claim F... F... Garusho San...” She said, stuttering while trying to say my first name, then settling on my last.
“Uh, no idea what ya talking bout, sweetheart.” Hudson said, tipping her hat, “I still ain’t used to ya culture, so do pardon me if I miss out on anything.” Dula Chan blushed in embarrassment, but at the same time had a look of jealousy at Hudson’s confidence. “And uh, I did say you could all call me Katie.” Now everyone nearby was ohhhing and making our recent classmate even more confused. By this point the boy who had long time crush on Dula, Kashu, was getting furious.
“That’s it, Hudson Chan, or Katie! Whatever you call yourself! For respect out of Dula Chan, I challenge you to a fight!” He said, and that got everyone riled up.
“You sure sugar?” She responded, hands on her hips, looking curious. “Now I ain’t gonna go all violent, but if it’s a duel you want I can arrange for something like that.” She handed a toy gun to Kashu’s surprise. “I like keepin these around, they remind me of family while I’m away.”
But Kashu wouldn’t be swayed. He took it in one swift motion. And hence, high noon came and I watched curiously, still fidgeting with my strange gadget. The two faced each other, eye to eye, hand near gun. “It’s the end of the line, son.” Kashu said, imitating those cowboy films he had seen. But Hudson just responded with a smirk. And then it happened— my gadget broke apart at a crucial moment, bouncing off of Hudson’s chest, causing... ahem... much awkwardness. Kashu panicked, shooting wildly, while Hudson dodged in a swift motion and landed a solid hit on his chest. “No fair!” He complained, but it was clear as day he had lost.
Fortunately Dula Chan was sympathetic. “Ah, you don’t need to prove yourself anyways,” she said with a tongue out, “we got better friends than Hudson.”
And so Hudson was somehow left the loser even though she won. Despite this, I congratulated her and said that she had shown me a brand new perspective to school life. It was truly eye opening. Her frown disappeared and she was her original self again. “Well, thank ya, partner! Perhaps we can do something else again soon.”
The bell rang, releasing us. Some had our parents to pick us up, and Hudson even had her own horse. As I walked home I thought about her, who she was, what she could do. Maybe I should call her Katie after all.
| 2019-12-18T09:06:13 | 2019-12-18T06:58:33 | 776 | 579 |
[WP] You're a space explorer making a brief stop at an alien planet to restock fuel. It's your first time visiting but everyone you come across hugs you, gets all emotional and tells you how much they missed you. They ask where you'd been all this time and talk like they've known you all their lives
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"I'm sorry, James," the intercom shouted at me, a thin, raspy female voice. "But if you try and ride empty all the way to the Orion regions, you will certainly have to call for a tow."
"Look, they design these things to appear to have smaller tanks than they do so it's harder to get yourself stranded somewhere. I'll be *fine*." I waved a dismissive hand.
"Are you gesturing for me to shut down, or making one of those pointless movements again?"
"One day, we'll have to go over human interaction and all it's caveats."
"I'm afraid not even the carbon in ten thousand stars would fuel enough processing power for me to understand such oddities about your species."
I scoffed. "Damn, fiesty today. Alright, alright, ALICE. Make the stop at planet XC-198. You're sure they have refuel capabilities?"
"According to the database, yes. Descent initiated."
It was a bumpy ride through the thick atmosphere of the little, pinkish and grey rock, swirling like a strawberry soda. No rings, no moons, and seemingly no Imperial bases. Why would such a remote planet have refuel stations that accept Credits? Typically places like this are where one goes to escape-- not for an Earth day, or month, but forever. A place where no one disturbs you and life can be lived out in peace, dying days spent watching dust swirl because you think it's better than dealing with traffic swarms and 'random' inspections.
Cautiously, we landed on a sea of cracked grey desert, little to no vegetation in any direction. The ocean of dirt broke into rolling hills in the distance, like waves forming, but never approaching. And yet, somehow, for some reason, a little town dotted right in the middle of it. From above, it had looked like a rock formation. On land, it still looked like a rock formation, hundreds of feet tall, but people were hiding in it. A whole city had been carved into the stone, using it for shelter. Shelter from what, I do not know.
Nor did I care to find out.
"Atmosphere is breathable, sir," ALICE grunted, slightly annoyed. "But I don't see any tankers or hangars on the scan. The data mismatch is strange. Perhaps there is more to this planet than dust."
"Perhaps," I said, climbing out of the airlock. "Or perhaps the hangar is just disguised as a rock and we can't see it."
I trekked over toward the stone mountain, a jagged and shattered thing that leaned slightly. There was even a gate to the city, chisled into it. In a window cut out near it, a guard eyed me. He looked every bit as human as I.
"Hello," he growled, his long, greasy hair flapping in a gust of wind. "What is your business?"
"I need a refuel," I said, pointing back at the craft. "Don't want to get stranded."
"Yes, that would be terrible. Name?"
"Orwell, James. Imperial ID: JCO-HX13-30291302."
"I see...." The lumbering man's eyes danced, little bits of light flickering across his pupils. He sucked in a bit of air, glancing toward me. "One second."
He slipped out a door in the back of his room, returning with a woman dressed sharply in pink and grey. Her blonde hair contrasted a tan and bright green eyes.
"James?" she asked, the words a whisper.
"Yes, that's my name."
"James, sweetie, do you not remember me?"
I squinted, pulling back a little. "What are you talking about? I've never been on this planet before."
"Look at me James. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't know who I am." She bore a hole through my soul, her green eyes swirling, spinning, like a galaxy imploding on itself, being sucked in by the black holes that were her pupils. They sucked everything from me, all knowingness, all reason and smarts.
I wobbled in the arid air, putting a hand out on the stone windowsill. "Yes. I remember."
*Why did I say that?*
"How wonderful. It's so lovely to have you back. Come with me."
Heavy stone creaked and ground as the city wall split open, and a series of men led me inside. It's all a bit of a haze, now. I don't remember much after that, but I woke up somewhere dark. Empty. A swirling void, one like the pupils of her eyes. And I would know, because every so often, when the shakes rack my body and I can no longer feel my legs as something warm and prickly sucks on them, draining me, withering me... I swear, I see her eyes in the dimness, ever so faintly. Ghosts of the real things; nightmares set to haunt me as I wake.
They watch me, like they drink in the pain and steal everything I am.
My name is James Orwell, pilot of the *Ulysses* Deep Trekker.
If anybody can hear my screams, please.
Please help me.
-----
*/r/resonatingfury*
|
Space exploration had transformed from a scientific-driven endeavor into one done out of sheer necessity. Humanities population had spiraled out of control after the energy and food crisis of the 20th and 21st century were solved.
Earth had, during the following century, very quickly and very literally run out of available space. The oceans were conquered first, floating cities put on their watery surface or submerged at the bottom. On land, skyscrapers were stacked on top of one another. Temporary solution upon temporary solution had been put in place, each bringing momentary relief but no proper solution.
The Moon, Mars and other planets of our local cluster of space only worked as a habitation for a few. People at large wanted to live on a 'proper world', with a real sky and a nice sun providing light.
Humanity once again looked towards the stars. Pushed by the approaching disaster, the effort to conquer space was picked up with renewed effort. The hunt for Earth-like plants began.
Seven centuries later humanity has become one of the most wide-spread civilizations in the known universe. In their quest for livable planets, they met countless of different species, joined the United Alliance of Spacefaring Species and generally prospered.
The hunger for new planets hadn't abated. Space explorers flew out in all directions, pushing the boundaries of the known universe looking for yet another Earth-like planet for humans to plant their flag into.
Merina was one of them. She joined the first day she was allowed to. After completing her mandatory 20 years of education she didn't decide to keep studying like most of her friends, she wanted to get out there, to explore the universe. As long as she remembered she had felt the call of the unknown.
The job had lived up to her expectations. It even fulfilled most of the promises the recruiter had given. He said Merina would be doing humanity a big service. It was well paying, both in credits and gratification. She could see the results of her work each time when a new colony was settled. Sometimes she even found ruins of long-dead civilizations. If she got really lucky she managed to salvage some tech.
There were a few things the recruiter hadn't mentioned.
Living on the cutting edge of science and engineering sounded awesome, but it was hella scary at the same time. You never knew if that weird clonking sound the new gizmo made was on purpose or the precursor of your fiery, painful death.
On top of that space exploration was a lonely business. She had always been introverted and a loner. During her education years, she only socialized with a rather small group of people. She never needed people the way others did. But being out in space for extended periods of time made even her feel lonely at times. Despite that, taking someone along wasn't an option for her. Being locked into a small ship with the same person for more than a week sounded like a horrible nightmare to her.
Merina had docked in the spaceport of a planet on the edge of Celirian space the day before. Celirians were an almost humanoid species, a torso, a head, two legs, four arms. Close enough for her to not be weirded out and not nearly as mind-boggling as some of the other species she had encountered during her exploration. It was her last stop before heading off into unexplored space, into the unknown void.
The dock master had hugged her, all four arms enveloping her body. Her universal translator converted his clicking sounds into understandable speech for her. "It's so nice to see you, how have you been ... " he checked the pad on his arm "... Merina?"
The greeting confused her. This was her first time visiting the planet, the first time visiting Celirian space.
Compared to the later encounters the dock-master had almost been unemotional. Everyone she met was nice beyond reason and it felt genuine, not faked at all. They all hugged her, asked how she was, what she had been doing, where she was going, if she needed anything, and more. Not even her parents were this interested in her or as friendly and they were obligated by commonly accepted convention.
She stopped accepting dinner invitations after having eaten three times. It was tasteful, every time and the conversations had been nothing but pleasant.
*What an odd species,* Merina thought to herself as she walked back to her ship in the afternoon. While she was checking up on the status of the refuel she read up on the Celirians. The one-sentence summary read 'nicest species in the known universe, one has to experience to believe it.'
The ship was topped up, fuel and food storages filled, everything ready for her departure and adventure into the unknown. Everything she had requested had been done, she could leave whenever she wanted. Her finger hovered on the menu item for the start sequence initiation.
Instead of pressing it and getting underway, as she usually did once everything was taken care of, she opened a channel to the dock master.
"Hey, uhm, dock-master," maybe she should have bothered to remember his name, "any chance I could book the plot another night and extend my stay?"
*****
r/John_writes
| 2019-04-06T07:25:27 | 2019-04-06T06:40:01 | 126 | 32 |
[WP] God shares the cosmos with several other dieties. To pass the time they play Civilization like games for eons. God's frustrated that his civilization, Earth, is several ages behind all his friends.
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How was he so behind in score? Jahweh sat gaping with disbelief at the icons floating in the top left of his screen, indicating that his rival, Jorgaxis, had just reached the highest tech level.
"Shouldn't have picked DNA as your genetic molecule, noob" the chat-window taunted. Jorgaxis was right, the higher rate of mutation gave him an edge in the early game, but that had been squandered after his setback with the dinosaurs. Now all it meant was that these damn humans were scared of nuclear power, and those dead dinosaurs were providing an easier, if less efficient means of power. If they didn't get their act together soon, cold-fusion was never going to be researched!
To make matters worse his faith points were dwindling; a few turns ago he overclicked the "new messiah" button and now had too many competing religions on his planet. Lack of a world religion was ruining his faith economy, preventing advancement. You'd think that after spending so many resources to flood the entire world that the one family of followers left alive would agree to worship him, but no. The game was not going well.
Sighing, he clicked to place a few images of himself on some toast, maybe that little push would be enough?
|
God had fucked up.
Having gained an early lead in the Prophet phase, he did what every other deity in his position would do-he dicked around.
Unfortunately, his *hilarious* antics that revolved around creating several versions of himself for his subjects to worship had backfired horribly. The AI decided the best course of action involved outright warfare to discover who worshiped the most accurate idol. While the other deities already found the cures for their cancers and world hunger, God was stuck cleaning up the mess he created through these "false religions".
In addition to his current problems, Cthulhu somehow snuck a few "ideas" into the head of a popular writer, and gained a strong cult following as a result. The green bastard would likely never let him live that down.
God knew he only had one option left if he wished to stay in the game. He glanced around the abyss nervously, and opened the console with a quick tap of the "`" key. Keeping his alt-tab handy in case Zeus or some other sore loser wandered past him to complain about their boredom, God slowly entered the forbidden code, the answer to his problems.
-42
| 2016-04-09T08:11:27 | 2016-04-09T08:08:19 | 30 | 16 |
[WP] You are born with two names tatooed on you body somewhere, one of your soulmate and one of the people that will eventually kill you. There is no way to tell who is who.
|
I was born with the same name tatooed twice, it was my parents worry that I was gonna kill myself so they put me on therapy since I remember, popping pills of all kinds, having every second of my life monitored.
The walls of my bedroom covered in pictures of happy animals, with motivational mottos on them. Everyone I ever meet was screened by my parents beforehand, making sure they knew how to treat me, what never say infront of me, how to avoid upsetting me.
My parents were mostly afraid other kids would bully me, so I only meet kids my age on therapy sessions, playing controlled games on a controlled environmnent with kids doing cocktails of pills aswell. Its curious how having a dozen parents looking at you playing makes you feel the most vulnerable.
I was so alone, never felt anyone truly tried to had a sincere talk to me.
Then the day came. I swallowed a grape and choked.
|
He held me in my arms, my love. I was so happy to have found him. I loved him and would have done anything for him. I would have died for him.
Arent I?
My heart slowed, it was becoming harder to breathe, I didnt care, I was in his arms. My soulmate's. He kissed me as my eyes shuttered closed, and whispered, "I never considered it would be me..." his eyes welled up with tears as he glanced at the names on my arm.
Bobby, the boy I fell in love with. And Rob, the man who made me take my last breath. Tears fell onto my face, "Im so sorry Love. Im so so sorry."
... I drifted ... Dark and cold ... I have no regrets ...
"I .. love you ..too.."
| 2018-03-11T08:14:04 | 2018-03-11T07:55:27 | 36 | 24 |
[WP] Instead of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, the three major religions to make it to the 21st century were the Greek, Roman, and Norse pantheons.
I'm not disregarding any other large or small religion (Hinduism, Buddhism etc) , mind you. Include them or some other alternate if you wish.
Edit: Great responses so far! As I stated, these three are expected to take the place of C/J/I, and there are plenty of other religions out there both larger and smaller. I chose these three because they are all monotheistic and connected (Abrahamic religions). Thanks!
|
The coffee shop was a bit full this morning, as per usual. Customers chatted amongst themselves, making it hard for me to watch the news, well it would've if there weren't subtitles.
It went on about political disagreements, one side saying that applying Roman standards to a secular system is limiting to those who don't follow the Gods. The opposing party was quick to bring up that entire government was inherently Roman, although with a couple changes. I took a sip of my coffee as I began to finish up my reports.
A man sat down next to me. I continued typing, not paying him any heed, occasionally taking swigs.
He said something that I couldn't quite understand. I took out my headphones. "What?"
"Stupid political bullshit going on huh?" He repeated.
I shrugged. "Not really. I think it's quite nice to take into account those who don't follow Jupiter and... whoever else is with him. We're becoming a more atheistic society and it's great to see the government conform to it."
He laughed. His grey tank top which clung to his body and his short blonde hair which was incredibly wet, bounced with his laugh. On his right tricep was a tattoo, a laurel crown surrounding the letters SPQR. "We've had these traditions for two millennia and the've been doing just fine."
"The traditions you celebrate now are not similar to those at the beginning." I turned back to my laptop. My left hand started to finger my pendant. "May I remind you that Latin is a dead language."
His face when solemn. He was speechless for a moment, trying to think up a response. He then noticed my necklace. "May I remind you that you have a dead god."
My hand froze. I probably should've seen that coming. I had a habit of fidgeting with the necklace when I was a bit agitated. It always drew attention.
"Yeah that got you to shut up."
"I wasn't the one who started this conversation."
"And I wasn't the one who started shitting on another's religion."
"I was simply pointing out that no matter what, things change. If you'd like I could've said early Greek is dead too." I closed my laptop and stood up.
He clenched his jaw. "One thing hasn't changed though, and that's Christianity is still under the foot of Rome."
|
"Check. So, how have your classes been?"
"Ugh, it's been absolute Hades. I have this one professor who's *super* Norsaphobic," Joshithos says as he moves his Centurion.
"Really? How so?" Drafus asks, moving his Praetor up.
"Like, we're supposed to be learning statistics, and he just goes off on rants about how if we don't close our borders the terrorists are gonna send in suicide bombers and shit."
"Ah. A Trumpicus supporter then."
"You know it. Speaking of which, did you hear about Mercurymons? Their spokesperson denounced Trumpicus. I mean, how the Hades does a Republican candidate lose the Mercurymons vote?"
"Well I mean, he also tried to pick a fight with the High Priest of Jupiter, remember? When the HP said we should build roads instead of walls?"
"Yeah."
"It's not really that surprising that he's ticked off pretty much the entire Roman pantheon."
"I guess. It's just kind of sad, is all. The person who's going to be President deserves to be in jail."
"Yeah, but if she was, we'd be stuck with an even worse President."
"True enough." Joshithos grins and takes Drafus's Empress with his Praetor. "Looks like I might win this one."
"Don't be so sure. Checkmate," Drafus declares, moving his Fortress down next to the Emperor.
"Huh. Well shit."
"Better luck next time, buddy."
"Yeah, yeah. By the way, what are you doing for Saturnalia?"
"Not much, I think. What about you?"
"I'm Greek. I don't celebrate Saturnalia."
Drafus rolls his eyes. "I know that, I'm asking what you'll be doing for Dionysia?"
"Well you should've said so."
"Ugh, forget it. Remind me not to send you a present."
The two friends look at each other and laugh. Little did they know it was the last time they would laugh together. For the next day, a Norse terrorist killed 23 people in a crowded mall before being taken down by security officers. Drafus was one of the 23.
| 2016-10-28T08:24:27 | 2016-10-28T08:13:02 | 18 | 13 |
[WP] Humanity has begun to explore the stars, but continually finds we are the most developed species, most alien species are still evolving. Suddenly, a message is transmitted to all human ships simultaneously, “WARDENS, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND YOUR DUTY?” The signal itself is not of human origin.
|
“Type ‘Please explain’.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll get us blown up.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Has anybody ever asked you a question like that in a tone of voice that suggested you weren’t supposed to know the answer?”
“You think we should act like we know what we’re doing?”
“It’s gotten us this far.”
“But we don’t understand our duty.”
“They don’t know that.”
“They used all caps. The tone suggests they do know that.”
“Then why not tell us?”
“Because they’re passive aggressive?”
“You think a higher life form is passive aggressive? And annoyed with us and thus treats us like idiot children who don’t really get it?”
“You’ve read the Bible?”
“I am more than somewhat troubled by how good a point that is.”
“So we just play it cool. Let someone else answer first.”
“I’m struggling to shake the religious implications here.”
“Great, what do you want to do about it?”
“Make an offering? Do we sacrifice something? A virgin?”
“On this ship?”
“Right.”
“Besides, it’s not a volcano. They want us to do something.”
“Which we don’t understand. And we should ask.”
“Sure, okay, fine the higher life form wouldn’t ask just to make a point, right? They’d just blow us up.”
“Exactly. Ask for an explanation. Let’s see what happens.”
|
“Wardens, do you not understand your duty?” The transmission of unknown origin broadcasted on all Star Cruisers from the 8th fleet coming back from a trade mission on the tribal planet 072/12. Slight panic broke out amongst Contact Officers trying to find out the source of the message and confirming the broadcast of the message on all of their ships. One of the Junior Scribes of Cruiser 12A in a fit of anxiety rushed to captains quarters to turn off his cryostasis pod. Captain Adams slowly woke up, stretched his limbs and without acknowledging the young scribes existance calmly walked to the command deck. “What’s going on here?” Said Captain to Chief Contact Officer. “Sir, we’ve received a message from an unknown source, we managed to track it down to the nearby star. It was something about some wardens and not understanding duty... i have no idea what that means” said officer. “Eh, I guess we couldn’t run forever. Listen, I am gonna need you to fire up the engines and full speed ram into that star. It seems like we have a meeting scheduled”
It’s one of my first attempts, tell me what you think of it, constructive criticism would be cool.
| 2019-05-08T14:28:15 | 2019-05-08T14:21:07 | 215 | 22 |
[WP] Grim Reaper only exists if there's life to be taken. The last human alive finally meet the Grim Reaper.
|
There exists a place between worlds, where soul pass through when they die. A place of darkness, undefined, incomprehensible.
Almost a void, really. It would have been, if not for the cloaked figure standing at the center of it all. Waiting. In his left hand was a steadily-burning lantern, and in his right, an old and worn scythe.
The Grim Reaper watched as a vibrant speck of light floated up and away, to a place beyond his void of a world. He watched it fade into the distance, then returned to his vigil.
The Reaper remembered a time when the souls flowed freely, creating constellations of light within the darkness. 'Like stars in the night sky', one soul had told him. The Reaper knew not of stars, or night, or the sky, but he imagined it must have been a wonderful sight.
Not like what the Reaper saw now. The flow of souls had exploded for a while, then slowed down to a trickle. From what little he had gathered from the crowd of voices, a great calamity had occurred, slamming the sky to the earth and smothering the land in titanic waves.
The Reaper felt it now. Humanity was almost gone. Only one soul had yet to leave its world, to be guided to the next. The Reaper raised his lantern, that beacon of light, just a little higher.
The void was serene in its emptiness. Silent. Dead. The Reaper took in the lack of souls, and felt... lonely.
Even though the light of the lantern continued to burn strong, the darkness still closed in, gradually. Creeping in like the infinitesimal flow of time.
A distant speck of light finally snapped the Reaper back to attention. As he had so many times before, he held out his lantern, drawing the soul closer and closer.
The soul finally reached its destination before the Reaper and materialised its form. This soul's was that of a rugged man, slightly past the prime of his life.
"Oh. So that's what the light is."
The man took in the glow of the lantern, then the skeletal figure in the cloak. When his gaze fell on the scythe, he breathed out.
"So you are real. The Grim Reaper. I... guess I'm dead, huh?"
A hoarse voice emanated from within the cloak, accompanied by a slow nod. "Yes. You are the last."
"The... last?"
"The last to die. With your death, Humanity is no more."
The man's face contorted as he processed the statement, then tried to voice a reply.
"Oh."
What else was there to say?
Moments and eternities passed before the man spoke again.
"This... hah. This is how it ends? With me? I'd... I dunno, I'd always thought there was someone else out there in the world, surviving. Some guy in a bunker, or a military base, or-"
A half-formed sob cut off the man's next words.
Wordlessly, the Reaper set the lantern down, then sat next to it. He motioned for the man to take a seat as well.
With a flourish, the Reaper produced two glasses containing the closest approximation to earthly whiskey that he could imagine. His strength waned, but he supposed it didn't matter too much anymore.
"...Thanks, man."
The two clinked their glasses together and drank. The sound radiated out into the void, never to echo back.
"All things must come to an end," the Reaper said, to comfort himself as much as to comfort the man. "It is... an inevitability."
"Even you?"
"Even I. My purpose is to guide human souls. What am I without them?"
"Oh." The man looked again at the Reaper and his weary posture. The result of living hundreds upon hundreds of human lifetimes. "Guess that makes two sad sacks with no idea where to go."
A tired, raspy laugh was the Reaper's only response.
In silence, they finished their drinks. The Reaper picked up his lantern once again.
"I have guided you here, and can guide you no further. Follow where your thoughts pull you. Your final destination awaits at the end."
"That's... it? You don't know where I'll go?" the man asked, trying to hide his disappointment.
"Alas. I have never seen beyond the void, for duty binds me here."
"But... your duty is done now, isn't it?"
The man looked around at the unending darkness. "Why don't you come with me? It'd be awfully lonely for you if you stay." 'And for me as well' went unsaid.
The Reaper stopped for a moment, considering the offer. Face the unknown by staying, or face the unknown by going? But if he went, he wouldn't be facing the unknown by himself. He would be facing it with a... friend?
The Reaper thought that he could consider the man as a friend. They had shared drinks, after all. He'd heard it was a sign of friendship.
Yet... the outside was a greater unknown than the familiar void. What would the Reaper find, if he left? The 'Hell' that so many souls spoke of with fear? 'Heaven', perhaps? Something else?
The Reaper looked into the man's eyes, and saw in them a reflection of himself. Uncertainty. Loss. A hint of desperation, of not wanting to leave a new friend so soon.
The Reaper made his decision. He gently set his lantern down, and stowed his scythe under his cloak. His slow nod to the man was returned with a shaky smile.
That day, a shining soul and the shadow of another ascended through the darkness in unison. Forging ahead into new territory.
Behind them, a lantern sat on the ground, gently glowing for eternity.
\--------
r/FlareWrites
Edit: Some minor mistakes taken care of.
|
In the depths of the Earth, the last human waited. Waited for what, he couldn't say. For the radiation to clear, for the ice to melt, or for rescue to come. But everyday, he would wake, eat food grown in the automated hydroponic farm of the bunker, read books, listen to music, and then man the radio station. Most of his day was spent manning the radio station. Because while any outsiders who might search the Earth would have found no humans, indeed no lifeforms at all, he did not know this. He wasn't aware that he was the last. So he manned the radio station. Calling out meteorological data, reading books live, playing music from ancient records, and talking into the aether. Hoping that there might just be someone out there. Someone who listened to him, heard his voice, and knew that they weren't alone. That idea, that there might be someone out there listening, kept him sane. Kept him alive. The hope that there might be other humans out there. So he played music, sometimes on his own guitar, if the records he wanted to play turned out to have decayed beyond playability. Sure, he could have used the digital archives, but the computers weren't doing so well, after decades of continual operations.
And he waited. As he had waited for decades, since his wife died. They'd been alone in the bunker for so long, having been the only two people to reach this specific shelter. They'd waited together, laughed together, manned the radio; sometimes in shifts, sometimes together. Until she died. He wasn't a doctor, and despite everything that mankind had achieved before society collapsed, they still hadn't cured cancer when the world ended. All he could do for her, was to do as she asked. He still remembered holding her, as the morphine she had asked for gave her a death without any pain. He remembered and wept, every day. Now he was pushing 90, and it felt unfair to have outlived the woman he loved. But he had to hope that there were anyone alive out there. And that they'd come to get him. Not just because he was incredibly lonely, but because the bunker had genetic samples of nearly all pre-catastrophe life. The seeds of tens of thousands of plants in storage, waiting patiently to be planted. Preserved samples of animal DNA, just waiting to be cloned. So he kept going, kept talking, hoping that somebody out there might be coming.
But nobody came.
Except on this day, when his old, weak, and frail heart finally gave out. When he died, deep in a bunker connected to a surface level broadcast device, nobody heard, nobody knew, nobody saw. He did not however, die alone. Because somebody came for him. His aching soul rose from his old body like a dandelion rises out of concrete. And sitting there, on the chair by the radio broadcaster, was Death. The Grim Reaper, his cloak made from midnight, his scythe glinting and shimmering like ice in the sun. ''*So. Guess they didn't find me.*'' The Grim Reaper shook his skeletal head. ''**Daniel Northwood.**'' He nodded. ''*Yes, that's me. I'm not sure I'm ready to go just yet, they're coming, and they'll need what me and Meredith kept safe for so many years.*'' The Grim Reaper slowly got up from the chair and placed a bony but kind hand on Daniel's shoulder. ''**No. Take it from me. Nobody is coming. You are the last human being on Earth.**'' Daniel's spectral eyes went wide. ''*You mean...?*'' Death nodded. ''**Yes. You were the last. Humanity is extinct, soon the plants in this bunker will die as well, and then the only lifeforms on the planet will be single-celled, and they won't last long either. The atmosphere is gone. Solar winds blast this world with deadly radiation. Nothing will endure.**'' Daniel's hands shook as he took this in. ''*What... what now?*'' He said in apprehension.
''**We must be going. Together.**'' Daniel looked around him and saw that the bunker which he had called home was gone. He was standing on the deck of a small boat. Around him was a great black ocean, underneath a starlit sky with a beautiful and full Moon shining like silver over the black waters. The gentle sound of water was soothing, as the boat rocked ever so slightly. The air tasted not vaguely of metal as it had done in the bunker, but of salt, and the wind was gentle and fair upon Daniel's face. ''*It's beautiful.*'' Death nodded. ''**Yes. This is the great sea, primordial and first. From it arose all other things. We will sail over it, and reach the next place to be.**'' Daniel looked across the endless waters, and saw a small but visible flicker of light in the distance. ''*Where is the next place? And what is it?*'' Death took the steering wheel. Something seemed off about them, but Daniel couldn't put his finger on it. ''**It is a place of rest. Where we will feel no pain. We will join those who have gone before us.**'' Daniel's eyes lit up like twin suns with hope. ''*Meredith.*'' Death nodded. And thought of who'd await there. Life would be there. And they hadn't seen each other in aeons. Death missed her. She'd gone first, as all hope for new life faded. Now they'd be reunited, on the shores of a land greater than all others. ''**Yes. And everyone else. There will be peace. There will be joy. And there will be respite.**'' Above Daniel and Death, a gentle wind took the sails of the small boat, and drove them towards the flickering light, a lighthouse on the shores of eternity.
So the last man, and mankind's understanding of Death, went together to a place beyond pain, a place beyond fear. Where old loves awaited them, and rest could be found. No words can follow them there, no story can be told in any world of those that reach this place, not any true story anyway. Because there is only one true way there. And all will follow it, one day.
[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)
| 2021-09-26T07:41:29 | 2021-09-26T07:21:14 | 89 | 16 |
[WP] You are an ethical necromancer. All your minions were raised voluntarily, under fair contracts. But some people can't see a spooky castle in the woods staffed by undead without breaking in and trying to kill you.
|
"Sir, there's another band of heroes trying to get in."
"Thank you Captain."
I stretched, letting out a groan before straightening my robes. My staff floated to my hand, the black flame growing at my touch. I left the latest batch of preservation fluid to mix, whilst I dealt with the latest set of do-gooders.
Captain Ulgreve led the way to the front gate. His armour glowed with the many enchantments I had laid upon it. It would do no good for my oldest friend to be slain easily, so I had seen to it that he wouldn't be. We passed a few servants, who stepped aside with practiced ease.
Situations like this were relatively common. No matter how many times I sent them away, more heroes would come. I couldn't really blame them though. My castle was quite spooky looking. It was in a fantastic state for its age though, much better then when I had found it.
I pulled back my focus. It was all to easy for me to get distracted. We quickly made our way to the outer wall. A group of guards stood ready whilst Ergota, my raised giant, braced the gates themselves. The wood rattled at the heroes attempts to get in, and I could hear muffled talking from the other side. It wasn't clear enough to hear what they were saying, so I took the time to address my guards.
"Thank you everyone for being ready. Ergota, are you having difficulty?"
She laughed.
"No, they aren't that strong."
"Glad to hear it. How's little Jela doing?"
"She's growing up so fast. She went on her first hunt last week."
I clapped my hands, grinning.
"How exciting! Did she succeed?"
Ergota pointed at a tooth on her belt.
"She brought down a bear. I'm very proud."
"She is definitely her mother's daughter. Harris, Plath, Bert, how about you? Are your families doing well?"
They all gave me little updates. I smiled at each one, before returning back to the matter at hand.
"Right, they aren't going to go away are they? Let them through, we can deal with their misguided intentions."
Ergota stepped back, placing her hand on the oversized warhammer she favorued. The gates heaved open, and the three heroes stood before us. One was dressed in a hodgepodge set of armour, that looked to have been scavenged from multiple battles. The second held an ordinary bow, and looked to barely be called an adult. The third was a slight fellow, holding twin daggers.
They looked a little shocked at the sudden ease up of pressure. As they faced me and my guards, they paled. I could understand this too. All of us had greyish skin, pulled tight against the bone. Our eyes shone with the same sickly green flames. I looked the most alive, probably because I hadn't actually died, but rather painlessly transitioned to the point between life and death.
Armour boy spluttered for a moment, before making actual words.
"You! You're the evil necromancer!"
I almost laughed at the cheesy line. Once I found myself insulted to be called that. Now I just found it amusing. Bow girl followed it up.
"Your vile schemes are at an end."
Yup, that was a standard shout. Dagger bloke shook his head, mouthing something as he slowly began to back up. I assumed it was an insult.
"First off, what vile schemes do you think I'm running? Why do you think me evil?"
Armour boy shouted back.
"You must be wanting to control this country! How else can the common folk like you so much?! And you force the dead to do your bidding!"
I looked at the guards around me.
"Have I ever forced you to do anything?"
They shook their heads, but Harris piped up.
"Hold on, you did make me wear a tutu for a day!"
I snorted.
"Only because you lost a bet." I turned back to the group. "You see? And to answer your question, it's because I employ those who have died through no fault of their own. They get to work to help their families, and their families get more time to spent with them."
The heroes looked at each other. Armour boy and Bow girl had a look of confusion. Dagger bloke just looked annoyed. He finally spoke at a normal volume.
"I told you! But no, you didn't listen to me. Idiots." He nodded to me, "My apologies. I told them that you weren't evil, but they don't listen to me. With your permission, we will leave."
I gave him a smile.
"Thank you. By all means, go ahead."
Ergota closed the gates. I turned to head back inside. Hopefully the fluid would be ready for the next step by now.
|
# How to Break a Siege of Legends
(Interlude 1: Variem)
(Note: How to Break a Siege of Legends is episodic; each part is self-contained. This story can be enjoyed without reading the previous sections.)
**"Ms. Variem! Ms. Variem!"** Dante sprinted up to his employer's bedroom in the castle tower. "There's, er, someone here to see you." He tore the door open.
Variem, Necromancer and Mayor of Arlington, catapulted herself out of bed. Her wife gave Dante a look that could have withered the flesh off his bones if he wasn't already a skeleton. "Dante, how many times have I told you that humans require *privacy* and spaces to call their *own—*"
"You won't *have* a space to call your own if you don't deal with this *right now*!" Dante hopped up and down, his bones rattling.
Variem traded a glance with her wife—then sighed. "Alright, Variem." She slipped into a practical farmer's getup. "I'll go and see to whatever this is—"
"That won't be necessary," a deep, rumbling voice said from outside.
Variem closed her eyes. "...there's a dragon looking through my bedroom window, isn't there?"
"Indeed." A face the size of an oak log loomed in her window as she threw aside the curtains. "You may call me Flametongue, if you have any need to name me. Perhaps you can scream it as I incinerate you to your bones."
Variem gave the dragon a perplexed look. "And... why in the name of the gods would you ever do that?"
The dragon snorted. "Necromancer. Do you not think I see your corrupting art spreading across the land?"
"As one of said corrupted arts, I think I have something relevant to say," Dante piped up.
"Dante—" Variem snapped at the bonekin. But he had already leapt out through the window and landed on Flametongue's nose.
"I don't know a lot," Dante said, "but I know that humans need *privacy* and a *space to call their own*. If you don't provide Ms. Variem with both of those *right this instant—*"
Flametongue flicked her nose up.
Dante didn't even get to scream as the gout of dragonflame incinerated him to less than ash.
Variem and her wife gaped at where the bonekin had been. Flametongue, satisfied, licked her lips and said, "Now, where was I? Ah, yes—"
"He was a *child*," Variem hissed.
"Excuse me?" Flametongue blinked.
"I built him last year. He was a *child*, and you *killed him.*" Variem felt his death still lingering in the air. She grabbed onto it, twisted it into her own powers. "You dare come into my home, my demesne, and *slay the citizens under my protection?*"
She sent out a mental command, and twenty skeletal archers popped out from various places in the castle. Flametongue's eyes narrowed as she calculated odds. The archers would be useless against her scales, and Variem knew it—if Flametongue attacked, everything she had built would be destroyed.
So she could *not* let Flametongue attack.
"I will give you one chance to leave with the insults you have already dealt us." She wrapped the death of Dante into a ball, and darkness swelled around one fist. "Begone, dragon, before you find out what the Necromancer of Argenton can do."
Flametongue growled once, then turned around. "Dismantle your castle and burn down your forests, Necromancer. I will return in a year. If your village is cleansed of your taint by then, well... perhaps we can reach an accommodation after all." Flametongue flapped once, twice, then soared into the sky.
Variem exhaled and looked at the power in her hands. Barely enough to singe Flametongue's scales. Dante had been so much more valuable in life than death.
Then she turned to her wife. "...we may have some remodeling to do, my love. And fast."
A.N.
I'm trying something new! "How to Break a Siege of Legends" will be an episodic story where each part is inspired by a writing prompt that catches my eye. Check out [this post](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mdh066/how_to_break_a_siege_of_legends_masterpost/) for more information.
| 2021-03-31T11:08:25 | 2021-03-31T11:08:05 | 106 | 14 |
[WP] You answer the knocking at your door only to see Death himself. "It is time." he says. "For me to move in, I'm your new roommate."
|
"Pardon me?"
"You heard me," Death said, clutching a small briefcase, "Roommates. You. Me."
He brushes past me, an earthy smell drifting by, the clicking of bones faint but nevertheless there, like the world's least melodious xylophone. As I struggle to grasp what just happened, his voice rises from the kitchen like it would from a grave. "Got any food? I'm starving!"
---
"So, run me through it. Why exactly are you my roommate?"
Death sighs, putting down his suitcase on the bed in the guest room. It's not the most spacious, but I have a feeling he won't mind. He probably won't be around much anyway, if this isn't just some sort of a prank. If it is, I have to admit that Dave is truly going above and beyond on this one.
"I need a place to stay, and you're not on my schedule for the time being. I have a lot of work to do in this city, and since my ferry is out of order, your place is rather convenient in the city centre. Seeing as you were still looking for a tenant, we seem to be a match made in heaven. Not that there's much matchmaking going on there, but you know, as a manner of speaking."
He starts unpacking his suitcase. It seems to be bigger from the inside, judging by the amount of black robes that drift into the wardrobe.
"Do you wear anything else than that?"
"Eh?"
"Nothing."
---
After an awkward conversation about rent (he's promised to reimburse me for any inconvenience this might cause), I feel a twinge of pain in my stomach. Right, totally forgot about dinner, what with a new roommate and all of that.
"Hey, so, if you don't mind, I still have to make dinner."
Death smiles, although how exactly I know that a skeleton is smiling is beyond me. "Don't wait up for me. I've got some work to do. Probably won't be back until after sunrise."
"What kind of..."
My voice fades as the answer comes to me before the question is asked. "Right. See you around, I suppose."
I shake my head and walk to the kitchen. *This whole situation is ridiculous,* I think to myself as I hear the front door close. *Death as a roommate? When is he not working?*
I open the cupboards. Judging by the ingredients present, I need to go shopping tomorrow. *Would Death go shopping?*
The thought of Death waiting impatiently behind an old lady in the grocery store makes me chuckle. Assessing my options, I guess pasta carbonara will have to do for tonight. Nothing like a good old Italian pasta with cheese and pancetta.
A sudden realisation hits me. I sprint to the front door, hoping Death doesn't have some form of super sprinting power and is still nearby. Luckily, I spot him towards the end of the street. Running as fast as I can, I quickly catch up to him. "Hey," I pant.
He looks at me, raising his eyebrows. Again, I wonder how I can see his facial expressions when he's clearly a skeleton, and subsequently why nobody else is giving him funny looks. I make a mental note to ask him later. "What is it?"
Sheepishly, I reach into my pocket. "You have no key to the front door."
He laughs. The sound of his teeth clattering together is unnerving, but I pay no heed. He reaches out with bony fingers and takes the key I hold in my hand. "Thank you," he says. "I think we're going to get along well."
|
I was slowly chewing my cereal, sitting at my kitchen table as the background noise of the news broadcast filled the room, and I was carried away in my thoughts.
My main thought was how dismal this place was, the room was dimly lit, the light above didn't have a shade, and the white paint on the walls were starting to crack and peel - I'd apply a new coat of paint, but I rented this place, and sure as hell I'm not paying on my landlords behalf.
I hadn't opened the curtains since last night, but all the energy was sapped out of me, I was too tired to get out of this chair.
How many hours of sleep last night did I get? I tried to do the arithmetic in my head, but I couldn't stay focused long enough to do that - So the answer must be too little.
Idealistic thoughts whirled around in my head about various things I'd like to do in my life, as I slowly dosed off into slumber mid cereal eating.
But the devil never sleeps, and I was woke up by an abrupt knocking on my door - Before I put my face into the bowl on the table.
I sprang out of my chair as quickly as I could, for a person that was asleep just moments ago, and hurriedly walked over to the door.
The cereal in my mouth was forgotten in my stupor, I realised, as I was about to unlock the door, and choked it down quickly - Too quickly, I was choking.
What happened next was a juxtaposition between remembering every detail and it being over as quickly as it started, the person on the other side of the door said "It is time" before walking into my apartment.
A black robed figure was standing above me, this must be Death, I reasoned - It wasn't fair, I had dreams, things I wanted to do in my life, I wasn't going to die in a rented apartment choking on a damn store brand cereal!
I started beating my chest with fury, trying to get the cereal out of my wind pipe, this will not be the death of me, I swore - Or I'd come back and haunt my landlord!
"for me to move in of course-" before it dawned on them what was happening, followed by an exclamation of "Oh god no!"
My next memory was being cradled in an aggressive fashion by a skeleton that knew the intricacies of the heimlich maneuver - I was grateful, yet perturbed, do I say thanks for this? - They did kinda cause it in the first place.
The skeleton released me, and said "Thank goodness I responded to that Craigslist ad"
Oh, right, that craigslist ad, for a new room-mate, I remember now.
"So two questions, I already figured you are Death, but why don't you already have a place to live? And do you have rent money?"
"Yeah, I am Death, and those two questions are related actually" Death began "The US coast guard impounded my boat, and are drachmas any good?"
"Dude, those haven't been acceptable currency for the past, I don't know, 1000 years?"
Death looked, well like death, but exceptionally sadder.
"Jeez dude, take a joke, I know things are bought in dollars, pounds and euroes these days" Death responded, as he took out stacks of 10 dollar bills bounded in rubber bands. and laid them on my kitchen table.
I guess it couldn't hurt to let him stay.
"Okay, fine, guess I'll take down that Craigslist ad"
| 2018-03-13T10:42:52 | 2018-03-13T10:29:47 | 22 | 10 |
[WP] After years of constant battles, you've finally defeated your nemesis, the city's foremost hero and protector. But now their spouse just showed up, and nothing you throw at them even slows them down.
|
I was tired, but at least the job was done. Hardacre lay at my feet, inert and unbreathing. My shoulders sagged in relief and I turned to go. His bigoted, conservative ideology had been plaguing this city for years, but now it would be free from his influence.
Now time to go home and rest. I turned to walk out of the rubble we'd made of the park when a hard shock hit me between the shoulder blades, knocking me sprawling. It's a testament to how worn out I was, that I just lay there for a moment before climbing back to make my feet.
I turned to face my attacker and my breath caught: the wife of Hardacre.
I expected her face to be twisted in rage and grief, but from where I stood she only looked confused.
"Why did you kill him?" She asked, walking toward me, looking like she was gonna hurl another shock blast. I called a wind, strong as I could make it, and pushed it at her. It went by her, whipping her hair around, but she kept taking steps toward me.
"Why did you have to kill him?" She asked again. Now that she was closer I could see that she was furious, but was the kind of person that goes still and stiff when angry.
There was another emotion, too, lurking in the lines of her face. Nakedness, but I don't mean physical. Everything that had clothed her soul was gone; Hardacre's death left her bereft.
"Why? Why kill him?" Now she was standing nose to nose with me and before the wash of emotions I had nothing to say. When the silence stretched out across several moments, she said,
"Leave. And don't come back til you can explain."
I would have described her voice as a snarl but it was too flat for that. I turned and left and so far I haven't gone back. I remember clearly the feel of Hardacre's life leaving his body, and while I can say the reasons that lead to killing him, I don't know how to explain why.
I don't know how to understand something that can be right and wrong at the same time.
|
"She just keep pushing sir!. The traps dont work! She in unaffected by fire, she just jump over the crocodile pit with ease and now she is breking the 3-multi-layer adamantium carbon fibre door whit her bare hands!"
"How... How did she find us?????!! This place is in the botton of the sea for god sake!"
"She... she just came down here swing sir...."
"God helps us...."
The door break down and Ostia enter the room where the nemesis of his husband was. The minions did not bother to shoot her. The flying snakes flee at her sighs. The woman look around the round. They all looked away, except for Thagatos the great, the evil lord of the deep seas and darkest corners of the world.
"YOU!" Ostia said, as she aproach Thagatos, rolling up her sleeves. "Did you think that was funny!? You knew muy husband was allergic to the flying snakes! How dare you to use them against him!?? You are lucky he will be okey!!"
​
"I... Who do you think you are talking to wo/!!.."
​
Thagatos was interrupted. Ostia rushes towards him in a blink of an eye, slaping him in right check so hard, that even his soon, Hyperium the lord of war, felt it.
​
Thagatos wake up a few hours later, confused and with a big ass headache. One of his minions aproach him with a note.
​
"Sir, she told us to gave you this after she left..."
​
Thagatos take the note, confuseed and read it
""If I say you playing with him again, you are dead. Also, your wife says you'd better be early for dinner with her parents.""
"Fucking hell...."
Thagatos sigh.
| 2021-07-15T07:05:25 | 2021-07-15T07:01:48 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!”
|
"I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" the Dark Lord asked.
I can't see him, but he towers several feet above me as I feel the spirits leave the bodies of the fallen heroes. A familiarity begins coursing through my body. The heat rising within, ignoring my cold, tattered robes. Tiny sparks crackling in my veins, bringing back a feeling lost ages ago. I struggle to hold back a barely visible grin from under my dark hood.
"Mortal," the Dark Lord continues. "You smile knowing your death is inevitable. I commend your bravery and will make your death quick."
The rush from a fragment of power coursing through me forces a gravelly, maniacal laugh from the depths of my lungs. The Dark Lord's face twists in annoyance. "Your disrespect will not be tolerated!" he bellows before lunging at me.
My long slumbering eyes open to the Dark Lord's face just a few inches away from mine, blood smeared across his face and teeth, the tips of his talons sharp just above my collar bone. He's frozen in time. The Dark Lord's face contorts in fear as he witnesses my strength.
The earth leaves from beneath my feet as a whirlwind circles around me. Finally, enough power for me to grasp and make use of. Millenia of slumber slowly getting being pushed away by the familiar warmth of magic and power. "Do you see now?" I manage to muster from my long underused vocal cords as I lower my hood.
The Dark Lord is released from the grasps of time and falls to the ground. He scrambles as he feels my power awakening and gives a slight look of fear and admiration before adjusting himself and standing tall. "I do," the Dark Lord exclaims after a few seconds of glaring. He looks around at the slain mages and warriors, the remnants of a chapter dedicated to my captivity and downfall. The Dark Lord drops to one knee and bows. "The final preparations have been made, Master. There is nothing to stand in your way."
|
Sir Bringham always shined as a light to guide his party in dark times, but he was not the hero. Dandy, the Barbarian, was a stubborn soul who made the hearts of his companions sing, but was not the hero. Griffin, held that honor as he was our hero of legend, True Paladin of Old, bound from another world, and laid dead at my feet.
"There's no one..." a quiet thump beat from my chest as those words left me silent.
The man atop the mound of bones that was his throne room, peeked above his hands. He had gone back to his seat as the hero hit the ground dead, bored by his own power. Sir Bringhim had attempted to light the man on fire before being smote himself. Dandy, a font of anger, laid his life down faster than I could see the Dark Lord react. All of them.... gone.
"I am in no rush to see how you choose your death, but I am curious," his voice creeped pass his fingers like smoke and with a great puff of arrogance and impatience, "Why do you not run?"
"There's no one here..." another studder forward.
"Yes, the is no god here, only I death," the Dark Lord stood grasping the air above his head held high like a chalice. Victory was his to drink.
"There's no one here to stop..." silence.
"What are you babbling about? Are you broken? I am here. I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?" enthralled by his own voice, the Dark Lord stopped cold in anger to the sound of laughter. Perhaps the fool was best to die now, but the Lord gave pause to the man's last words.
"There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!" these were the words the party's cleric **and** necromancer always wanted to say, especially since the prophecy only mentioned the Hero standing over the Dark Lord's dead body, never how.
| 2020-07-11T04:45:03 | 2020-07-11T04:33:58 | 23 | 15 |
[WP] Instead of a dystopia that seems like a utopia on the surface, write a story about a utopia that seems like a dystopia on the surface.
|
It was a grimy life, Factory City Three. The smell of oil, sweat, and some chemical or another always filled the air, coated the walls, stuck to your clothes. Clean air was a commodity in Factory City Three, a dollar for a cubic meter. A few minutes of fresh breath inside the machine that was your life.
And the machines! Always and everywhere, the machines. Music had to be rewrote for each area depending on what the background hum was. Factory City Three was a billion machines inside of one whole, and humans were just a scant million of the machines inside it.
And yet, they stayed inside it. For the most part; some fraction left every year, either to the Outside, or every decade or so to a new Factory City when one thought it had enough resources to manufacture a new Factory City.
The latter was the main form of emigration. Life inside was loud, tough, and confusing, but there was always a roof over your head, always food on the table (be it mostly synthetic or not), and always, most importantly, always someone you could talk to.
The governorship of Factory City Three, and all that it had spawned, was a machine intelligence. Factory City Two had built it, and it's body of machine intelligence and human intelligence had elected to remove the latter. Most of the activity of the humans inside it were directed by it's cold logic. It had a simple mission, the same as every other Factory City. Move. Collect resources. Keep the people alive and happy enough. Repair the land. Reproduce.
In the wake of every Factory City was a tract of budding forests. Plants were genetically engineered to survive the blasted landscape, and while the City itself collected resources and the radioactive material for it's own use, it cleaned the land well enough that anything could grow there.
The resources went to building new machines, the atomics to the power plant at the heart of the City, and a handful of people trickled out to colonize the reclaimed land - if they so chose.
There were now nearly forty Factory Cities and two prototype Factory Ships in operation, with a third in development for travelling to the other continent to set loose another Factory City.
A citizen puts on her noise cancelling headphones and heads to her maintenance station, the high pitched sounds of synthesized violins and flutes offering a counterpoint to the constant bass din that surrounds her. She was in a good mood; she had a date tonight on the observation deck with a cute fellow from research and development, at the re-release of the mango party. They were moving into an area where the climate could support their growth, and some of the food crop seeds were being pulled out of storage to prepare for the planting process.
It was an average day in Factory City Three. The world was all the better for it.
|
I start walking down what's left of Peachtree Street. The buildings are crumbling, the shattered windows of the skyscrapers reflecting the harsh sunlight into the street as little points of light. As I navigate the piles of rubble, I remember what it was like before the Virus.
Everyone was so happy. Everything we wanted was at our fingertips. Clothes, food, jewellery, even entire buildings if we really wanted it. I'd lived a humble life, deciding from a young age that I wanted to travel the world by foot. Three and a half centuries would be enough for that, I'd reasoned.
I was wrong. I'd just arrived in Budapest when the Virus struck. Everyone suddenly started dropping dead, coughing up blood. I felt a little queasy, but that seems to have been because of the blood and dead bodies rather than the actual Virus. I was immune. One in a hundred million. Over a trillion people died on each of our planets that day. I did not.
I think it had something to do with my lifestyle choices. I'd decided that to be the most efficient, I replaced my digested system with a much more efficient one made of a biological replicator. Bloody expensive, but worth it. I can eat anything now, and I get all the nutrients I need. That didn't help with the Virus, of course. Just with me surviving after it.
I shrugged my shoulders that day and walked on. Everywhere I went, decaying corpses littered the street. It was fascinating to see how our bodies decomposed naturally. Over the next months, everything disappeared but some of the metal bones, or prosthetics, or other augmentations.
My three hundred fiftieth year passed. If the Virus hadn't happened, I would have been brought in to die peacefully on that day. I wasn't. Only then did it dawn on me that I was truly immortal. I could do whatever I wished. So I kept travelling the world.
I think the Russian Taiga was the most beautiful. I spent a few centuries just thinking there among the trees. Then I moved on.
Two thousand years have passed since the Virus. There are other immortals walking around like me, I know. But they travel in groups, and I am content with my thoughts. And anyway, only a tenth of them didn't commit suicide. There are tribes of those people's descendants, worshipping us. Gods. I chuckle. Yes, I'm a god, I guess. The chuckle grows to a laugh, and I raise my arms straight out beside me. I grin, and take off for the second time in my long life. The air rushes past my face and blows my hair out of my eyes.
The world is beautiful.
*EDIT: I was on mobile and autocorrect screwed some things up. Also, fixed weird wording.*
| 2016-07-14T08:52:44 | 2016-07-14T08:30:59 | 140 | 85 |
[WP] On everyone's 18th birthday at noon, one word appears in their skin, depicting their career or purpose in life. On your birthday you're staring at a clock showing 11:59am, family and friends gathered around for your reveal.
Path 1: Noon strikes, and you stare at your forearm intently. 12:01, still nothing appears.
Path 2: one word fades in slowly, followed by a second...
|
My 18th birthday, something that seemed so far away is finally here. My family is gathered around, ready to see what word I would have. My dad's was JANITOR, while my mother's was DOCTOR. I hope I get something cool.
"We will be proud of you honey, whatever you are." My mother said. My father nodded in agreement. We waited in silence. The grandfather clock sounded at noon, Words started to be inscribed into my arm.
GAY PORNSTAR, were the words that would dictate my career. My father let out a snort, my mother flustered said "Oh john, we knew you were gay, but we didn't think your career would involve this."
I thought to myself, well, I do love dick.
(First post please be nice.)
|
I couldn't believe it. I would have never guessed it. I had so much potential. Everyone thought I would be a doctor, a lawyer, or maybe even an astronaut. I always dreamed of being someone famous. A musician, an athlete, a movie star. But according to some fucking ink, I'm neither. All my friends got good ones. Even Jerry, and Jerry is a fucking idiot. I mean Jerry is fucking blind from his right eye so how in the hell does he get to be a pilot? Everyone knows you need two good eyes to be a pilot. One good eye per wing, that's the rule! But hey what do I know? All I got on my arm was the word 'Comedian'. Fuck you Jerry.
| 2017-03-16T04:22:00 | 2017-03-16T00:50:02 | 40 | 15 |
[WP] Every starfaring species has discovered a different form of FTL travel. Kantian gates, Salec skip drives, Maltiun wave-riders, Delfanit pulse tubes ... Humanity's solution was regarded as "Unorthodox", "Unsafe", and "Damn Stupid" by the rest of the galaxy.
|
The *Sunseeker*'s control room was dead silent except for the low *beep-beep-beep* of the deep space radar. The screen lights flashed a dim blue against the vast blankness of space, but nothing else moved, or breathed in the cavernous space.
A line of blue light appeared in the middle of the room, then expanded into a doorway from which stepped out three figures. If a human had still been present in the control room, they would have looked askance as the figures were too tall, too thin, and moved too fluidly to be one of their own. A living human might have been thrilled to catch their first glimpse of extraterrestrial life.
The humans in the control room, however, were far past caring the issue. Glassy eyes stared numbly at their consoles, and heads looked on fixedly, their motor muscles frozen instantly by the nerve pulse.
The first figure scanned the room for remaining traces of the weaponized blast, then sighed into its microphone.
"Looks like we got another dead crew. It seems like they still don't get it."
"Give them some credit, none of their crews has returned from a trip this long."
"Still, after sixty years of exploration? You'd think they would have given up."
One of the other figures shrugs. The movement brings its narrow shoulders all the way to the crown of its head.
"Humans will be humans. They are a stubborn species, that's for sure."
"Well, as long as it prevents them from leaving that backwater of theirs, I'm all for it."
The other figure hunches over to examine one of the dead crew members.
"Still, don't you think we should tell them by now? That their FTL drive can only decelerate up to a certain point before releasing that tachyon wave?"
"Weren't you listening? Leaving them ignorant is exactly the point. As long as they're stuck at 2c, it'll take them centuries to reach civilized space. Hopefully they'll have learned some manners by then. Bloody primitives..."
The hunched figure sighs, claps its hands together in the *macto*, then turns back to the gateway. The three aliens depart as quietly as they came.
** Three days later**
The alien ship is long gone, and the human vessel still floats in the vast expanse of space. It has waited the full three days allotted to its crew, before its automated safeguards took over.
The ship flashes blue, glowing like a briefly lived supernova, then disappears into the strange dimensions of FTL travel. After sixty years, the Human Exploration Corps finally developed a ship that could travel back to Earth on its own, and carry with it a recording of the tales of its crew.
|
Faster than light (ftl) travel happens fast, people knew that from the outset.
Ftl traffic accidents happen faster, people were just smart enough to figure that out beforehand.
What most people didn't know before they tried faster than light travel, however, was that even if it doesn't go wrong directly going about it the wrong way was about as obvious to the rest of the universe as a steam-train going the wrong way down a busy one way street.
Actually it's more obvious than that but analogies on a galactic scale tend not to work if taken literally.
you see, the elegance of other species systems such as Kantian gates and salec skip drives is two fold, the ship itself never reaches particularly high speeds and can be sure that there is nothing between it and its destination except extradimensional shift energies, which dissipate in their own extra dimension.
The mildly less elegant wave riders and pulse tubes are still practically applicable because of the ability to steer them whilst travelling using small on-board EM thrusters.
One can almost imagine the conversation that led to it's design, the humans first light speed capable craft (the Multiplanetary Intergalactic Lightspeed Vehicle.)
Scientist 1: "so you're saying we can really kill two birds with one stone here?"
Scientist 2: "absolutely! the very mechanism that ensures we hit nothing on the way is what we'll use as an energy sink to slow the craft at its destination!"
Engineer: "not only that but it mainly uses technology we've had at our disposal for decades, we set up some working models in the Nevada desert."
Scientist 1: "perfect, it's so logical that the shortest route as the crow flies would be the best."
consequently the MILV had only one way of ensuring it didn't collide with objects, it destroyed them with a massively powerful laser beam fractions of a second before the fission igniters started its faster than lightspeed adventures. The MILV also had only one way to stop travelling faster than the speed of light and that was to actually catch up with its own humongous laser pulse, the fallout from which necessitated some rather hefty shielding.
So there are two ways in which thousands of tonnes of train forcing there way down a road is a good analogy for human ftl travel.
first off everyone on that street is going to watch in total horror as the humongous lump of metal barges everyone's nicely proportioned cars into the newly created wreckage piles at the side of the road.
secondly you cant stop a train unless it's the end of the line.
| 2017-03-31T13:02:22 | 2017-03-31T07:52:19 | 18 | 11 |
[WP] Your Reddit username decides your profession. How is your first day at work?
If possible. Some usernames just don't work well in this situation.
---
I'm an FBI agent now. Wooo!
You're all under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.
---
Dear God RIP my inbox
|
New suit, old tie, there's a stain in the middle, and a tear in my eye.
I sigh.
The streets are the same, the cars they drift, the leaves they fall, from the blue sky
I sigh.
I walk and walk, sip and sip, the rye begins to run dry
I sigh.
The students they sleep, careless, naive, am I really the bad guy?
I sigh.
Another day, another night without her.
If I said I could live without my love, it would be one big lie,
I sigh,
I sigh.
|
We met in the room of a thousand fountains all 140 of us. We looked around for the original sure enough he was here. "Alright gentleman I have gathered you here today to adress the growing unrest across the galaxy at this time. Now I can't do it alone but with all of you I can, but we have to work together. Sound fair?" We all nodded and whispered agreements amongst ourselves. Then on cue we all turned to leave we knew what had to be done. The galaxy could barely stop one Revan how would it do with 140.
| 2016-02-22T10:07:53 | 2016-02-22T09:22:45 | 300 | 10 |
[WP] You often pick up pennies you find on the ground, inspecting them for date, markings, etc. One day, you find a penny from 2044. Even more shocking, it's your face on the front.
|
"So is this a novelty penny? Where did you get it?" She asked, thumbing the copper piece back and forth in her hand.
"I…er…yeah. It is." Daniel didn't quite know what to tell her. When he found the penny out on the sidewalk earlier that day, he couldn't quite believe it was real - and if he couldn't, his fiancé certainly wouldn't. "It is a bit…" She glanced up at him, and raised her eyebrow. "Egotistical?"
The penny certainly was. Daniel's face featured front and center, with a big smile reminiscent of a 60's propaganda poster. That's not what worried him, however. Enscribed in a circle around his face was the phrase: *United American Empire - 2044 - Unity through Strength.*
"Yeah, yeah…I suppose." He mumbled. She placed the penny carefully back into his palm. "Right, I'm going to run to the toilet - I'll be back in a few." She stood up, and with that, Daniel was left alone in his living room. *American Empire…Unity through Strength…*what did it all mean? Was he going to...become...somebody someday? A leader? *The kind of leader who puts himself on the penny…who changes the countries name...what, am I going to lead a coup?* He thought. *What the hell is going on?* He was sweating. This was all far too much for him to handle. He'd always been interested in politics, but he'd never…would he?
"No." He said aloud. "Absolutely not." Maybe if he was assertive, knowing and saying what he wanted, the future would change - and it would all be fine. But the penny stayed still in his palm, unchanged - his aged face still smiling up at him. "No." He repeated. He glanced up, and looked out the window. Cars whizzed by on the street in front of him.
He clamped his fist around the penny and stood up.
"Never."
|
Dear Journal,
As I’ve written to you before, I am hometown-famous for picking coins from the ground and inspecting them thoroughly. It was a childhood hobby that turned into an adult hobby.
It started when my grandfather once told me that if I found a coin with a misprint, misspelling, or any imperfection that it would be worth a lot of money. I never found one but I enjoyed the process.
Two days ago, I found a penny that was dated 2044. I flipped it over to find my face carved in it. I looked around with suspicion.
What is going on? Have I watched too much Westworld? I feel like I am dreaming but I know, subjectively, this is reality.
I plant the penny in my pocket. You know when you Google something very specific and doubt that even Google can give you results? That’s how I felt when I Googled my name followed with 2044. Many results with my name or the year but none with both together.
While on the way home, I try to block out the world by listening loudly to LCD Soundsystem. In an anxious trance as I listen to the chorus of Us v. Them. I just want to be home and in my room. That’s my safe space.
I walk the sidewalk quickly towards my building. Open the door. Close it behind me. Walk to the second floor. Open my door. Close my door. Turn on the light. As I turn around I hear the screams of a dozen people, “SURPRISE!!”
All of my friends are gathered in my kitchen with a huge poster of the coin with my face on it. Then Melissa says, “I bet you found one of the gag-coins we had made and strategically placed around your car door!”
I had forgotten my birthday was today. It was a nice thought but poorly executed. As I’ve written you so many times before J, I need to find new friends.
| 2018-06-27T07:00:35 | 2018-06-27T06:26:07 | 881 | 243 |
[WP] You have the ability to see heart-strings. You can see the connections that people have with each other. Each connection appears to be a colored line running from one person's heart to another. The colors, thickness, and texture of the line determine the strength and type of connection.
Based off of [this](https://www.reddit.com/r/godtiersuperpowers/comments/nn1e36/you_can_see_heartstrings/) thread, where people keep asking me for a writing prompt.
|
I didn't get home until late that night, and found her asleep on the couch. The TV was on some old sitcom. The flickering lights played across her peaceful face, her familiar snore just barely audible over the laugh track. I walked over to gently wake her up, but something stopped me in my tracks.
One of her strings had grown. I frowned, and looked at it closer. The other ones were all the way I remembered: the light grey spiderweb strands reaching out to various acquaintances, the cozy cream-colored knitted fabric connecting her to her mom, the honey pouring sideways towards her close friends. And of course, the deep red silk thread tying us together.
But here was another one. I didn't recognize it, at first. It looked almost like a friendship, and I almost convinced myself that it was. But the color was a little too deep.
Her eyes fluttered open.
"You're home," she said. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," I said. My chest ached.
She smiled at me, and I looked at our shared heart-string. It was still so strong. I looked at the new line. Maybe it wasn't red. Maybe it was just a deep honey, a deep friendship.
I decided not to look at it again.
|
Wow that one is thin. I have never seen one like that, never so dark and thin. Like a piece of thread from a old dark blanket."Hey sir" I called. They both turned a son no more than 10 and a dad atleast 30.
"Yes?" The dad said.
"hi yes um can you point me in the direction of 3rd west avenue?".
"Yeah sure you just take a left and")
I took my chance to look down at the kid.
He seemed off. Here but not here, like his mind is walking around and yet his body was still here.
"And thats it".
"thank sir and hey you might wanna take your kid to eat or something he's skin and bone".
"yeah I will after we do this"
That's when the most peculiar thing happened... I saw the line break. I have never seen a bond break in front of me. Even though they were father and son the hate between them seemed... like if they never met. The son's line was not even connected to anyone else.
I was going to say something but they were already walking away. The kid had no one else and yet had someone else. As I saw them walk away I thought to my self on how we have friends and family but at what point are we ever those?
| 2021-05-28T17:35:49 | 2021-05-28T16:12:28 | 172 | 33 |
[FF] Make me feel heartbroken in 4 sentences or less.
|
Today, Daddy hit Mommy because Mommy messed up supper and Daddy was mad 'cause he deserves something good to eat when he comes home from work. When he was done hitting her, Daddy left me and Mommy alone in the kitchen, and she hugged me tight and cried a lot. I love Mommy so much, and I hate seeing her sad, but it's her own fault for messing up all the time. Later, Daddy was feeling better, and we went outside to play catch, and had a lot of fun.
|
"Goodbye kids," said Dad. "I'm off for my first day as a police officer."
Eight hours later, there was a knock on the door, and the kids yelled, "Daddy's home!". Mom opened the door to see a policeman, his hat held to his chest, who said, "A-Are you Mrs. Philips?"
| 2014-02-13T22:55:12 | 2014-02-13T22:00:47 | 55 | 18 |
[WP] You die and ascent to Heaven, where St Peter cries "Thank God you're back." Wait a moment, it's coming back to you... Oh. You were supposed to be the Second Coming of Christ. Whoops.
|
"What the fuck?"
Everything's white. I... I don't know where I am.
I think I died... No, that's crazy talk.
"Thank God you're back!"
An Angel is running towards me at full speed. You'd think he'd fly cause he's an Angel, but... Dammit, seeing Angels definitely means dead.
"I'm so happy to see you, Mr. Christ!"
"Mr. Christ? Who the... Ah shit."
It hit me like a ton of bricks to the face. I was- AM Jesus Fucking Christ. They're gonna be so pissed.
The Angel finally gets here after running for what seems like whatever speed you read at.
"We're so happy you're okay! We scoured the Earth but we couldn't find you anywhere!"
"I was right where you left me," I said. Lighting up a smoke.
"Uh Jesus, you can't smoke in Heaven."
"What good is being JESUS, if I can't smoke in my own house?"
"Good point, sir. But all the same everyone else may get a little angry."
I flick the cigarette onto the ground, or... Rather the clouds.
"So uh, sir. What exactly happened to you- uh- down there?" The Angel shifted uncomfortably. I never remembered the Angels names.
"I forgot who I was." I light another smoke.
"You... Forgot?"
"Yeah. It's hard being me. Do you want to be the only savior for a bunch of fucking morons?"
"Uh... No. But it was foretold that-"
"Listen, I messed up. I'll admit it, I totally dropped the ball. Completely lost track of time and the task at hand. Apology accepted?"
"You... didn't apologize."
"Yeah but close enough right? Where's dad at? I wanna get this ass whooping over with. Think he'll be as made as the time I saved that prostitute?"
|
**[Short Story #2] Jesus'**
The word fuck trickles out as I exhale slowly coming back to my senses on what has just transpired. Big man is already pissed. I can tell because he isn't here scolding me. He's probably about the play the whole "I'm not mad. I'm just disappointing" card. He doesn't get it though, things are way different. Last time was WAY different. People had already heard the name and knew the whole "Jesus Christ" act.
He attempted the same old story as last time, put me in the middle of fucking nowhere and see how it plays out. Problem was he dropped me in Ypsilanti, Michigan and two other guys claimed they were also Jesus and to be fair, I thought this was some kind of cruel prank. Felt like Mr. Beard-in-the-sky didn't trust me this time around so he sprinkled a few more Jesus' around to help get everyone up to speed since this time there were more sinners on this forsaken planet.
I tried letting them know I was the second coming. I tried to tell them believe in me and my father-self so I could forgive them of all this sin that I made, but they refused to believe me. The place was full of people twisting my words and using medical science to place me in padded cells with these other me's.
So many years wasted. So much time gone. So many souls unsaved. I couldn't take the depression anymore, arguing with those two in the middle of that frozen fucking mitten. I did the only thing I could. Used my bed sheets to take myself out of the equation. I'm leaving it up to those other Jesus' to figure it out.
*End*
| 2015-08-18T08:53:45 | 2015-08-18T08:52:19 | 125 | 26 |
[WP]We live in a universe where you cannot die from natural causes, instead every so often the Grim Reaper will come and try to fight you to the death.
If you win, you keep on living until the next fight.
|
Gavin was tying the knot when the Grim Reaper came. Gavin looked at him with dull eyes, then resumed his efforts.
Death stared at him, confused. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
"Whatcha doing there, buddy?" he asked, carefully leaning his scythe against a nearby wall.
"No need to fight me," he aid, wrapping the last loop, "I'm on my way out already."
Death fidgeted. "You're supposed to fight me."
Gavin simply shrugged. "I don't have any fight left."
Death became frustrated. Most people would fight tooth and nail for their lives, and he just wanted to end it?
"You've always got to fight, don't you see? That's what life is. It's striving to live!"
Gavin held out his hands. "You've already won."
Death lashed out at him, hitting him again and again. Gavin took the blows, never fighting back once.
"How about I visit your friends, Gavin? How about I visit your family? I know your mother is long overdue."
Gavin got up, his brows furrowing. "Leave them out of this."
Death tried to hit him again, but Gavin caught his punch. "You still care about them, but you're ending it anyway?"
Gavin was enraged. "I said *leave them out of this.*"
He punched Death with all his might, sending him careening to the floor. Death got up, suddenly menacing, intimidating. Suddenly Gavin felt afraid. Suddenly he wanted to live, if not for himself, then for the people he cared about. He realised he wanted to fight for his life.
Death grabbed his scythe, and Gavin cowered. Death swung in a wide arc and Gavin shut his eyes, wishing that he'd fought. Not just now, but his entire life. He would've given anything just to see his friends and family again.
The scythe's whistle ended, and something fell.
Gavin opened his eyes, and saw the sheared noose laying on the floor.
Death's skull seemed to grin.
"Good punch there, kid."
And suddenly, Gavin was alone.
And suddenly... Gavin was happy.
|
I never really understood why he took such an interest in me. I'm not a special person, a rich person, or really a person that stands out in any way.
I simply go to work and maintain a decent standard of living for my family and we all just get by quietly.
The first time he showed up was in...oh...must have been twenty six.
That was a lead pipe, very old school. He said it had been long enough and it was my time. I only survived because I tripped on my own two feet and somehow he ended up with the pipe right through his chest.
He came back in twenty nine. That's how I got that scar on my back, that big one, see it?
Yeah, that was a good fight. After the first I started taking some lessons and when he came back I dropped him down a stairwell.
There was a bit of a break until...oh thirty one? Yeah, thirty one.
That's where I got the limp from. Bastard hit me with a hearse, thought it would be ironic. His stupid robe got caught under the seat and I lit the whole damn thing on fire. That's why he started wearing the suit.
It does look better too.
Thirty three and thirty four he came at me again. First time he got me good and I thought it was over but I got out of that one somehow. Second time he didn't even get in a good hit.
It was after thirty seven that he started showing up at the back porch with a six pack. Said I was "the luckiest sumbitch" he'd ever met. Then there were...sixteen more tries.
After that he kind of gave up. Still comes around with that six pack.
He always threatened he'd get me another way though, despite our strange friendship.
That's why I'm teaching you all this, so you better pay attention.
He's going to come for you and he's going to come hard. So you gotta be ready kid.
So pick up your blade and quit crying, that little cut isn't going to kill you.
He will. If you let him.
| 2016-10-12T10:22:35 | 2016-10-12T10:09:16 | 35 | 12 |
[WP] As the Empire descends upon Earth despite the Federation's best efforts, the Galactic Council watches in horror; their invasion force will soon be wiped out, and when they are, the most violent species in the galaxy will have access to space age technology.
|
Tenor remembered being in the Council meeting chamber as they all watched their fleet crash into the Earth’s surface. Everyone was horrified. The council had failed to eliminate the human threat before they could expand and only succeeded in handing over the keys to the galaxy. It was the only time in his life that Tenor can remember feeling true, gut wrenching fear.
Against all of the sickening feelings he felt that day, today, Tenor felt peaceful. He could see the truth now.
After the invasion failed to eradicate Humanity, the galaxy scrambled to prepare themselves. Systems generated massive fleets that surrounded their borders. Trade routes were redrawn to avoid the local cluster around Sol and any transmissions that crossed that cluster would be redirected as to not give the Humans any idea of the locations of their worlds. Entire civilizations suddenly cowered in fear.
Tenor would laugh at how he felt back then. He too escaped to his home world in panic. He ended up using the money he saved from his intern work for the Senator of his planet to buy himself and his family a home. If the Humans truly were coming, he was going to live out his life where he belonged.
Decades passed, yet no Human fleet came to destroy them. The council watched the Humans diligently but never saw them preparing for war. The Humans created more colony ships than they ever did war vessels. More and more the Humans expanded their colonies, but they never came close to what the council expected.
Human history was ripe with conquering and genocide, yet something had changed in them. Something had made the Humans change who they were.
As the council began to finally calm themselves over the Humanity situation, they finally came to a conclusion on what to do with Humanity. The council was set to vote on their solution for the Humans.
Tenor was now much older and wiser than he was when the Human conflict happened. He studied the Humans closely and watched them grow. Today, as Senator for his homeworld, he was to present his findings of Humanity and be the deciding vote on whether to welcome Humanity or to continue to hide from them.
As he stood in front of the council, Tenor remember that dreadful day of defeat. He could practically still hear the chaotic cries of the council members as they watched the final cruiser explode under human artillery strikes. But now, he felt at peace.
“I came today to present all I know about Humanity. Though important, I will leave you to read the extreme details on your own. I have only one note to cover. Attacking Humanity was wrong. Attacking them was cruel. Attacking them was fueled by fear. Humanity was never the existential threat we feared them to be. Humanity was just lost. When the council discovered humanity, they had only just learned to connect their home world electronic systems to their colony systems only one planet away. They were infantile compared to us. We essentially took actions of children as those of adults.”
“You see, when we lost the invasion, Humanity felt the greatest victory they had ever felt. They defended their lineage of millions of years from the largest threat ever posed to them. They fought their Great Filter. Humanity showed their perseverance. And they immediately set to explore the stars. In every colony humanity has founded since their war with us, they have only studied and preserved whatever life they found among the stars. Using their overwhelming strength to overcome any obstacle, they have thrived. Humanity has become protectors.”
“We must show Humanity our great mourning for past crimes. We must how them how we regret what we had done. And we must show them how we respect who they are. If we welcome Humanity into the Greater Galaxy, they may one day be OUR greatest protectors.”
|
Lance Corporal Chris Ghandaal, United States Space Force - Fort Benning, Georgia USA
JAN 21, 2020
Are you fucking kidding me? I enlisted for tuition assistance bro.. “
“I know dude, but I think they’re really gonna shoot it down.”
“They can’t just shoot a flying object out of the sky because they think it might possibly could be aliens... it’s not aliens anyways. There’s no way aliens just sent a craft into our upper atmosphere and are just... just ... just here now... bro it’s probably the Russians or China, or maybe our own. It’s not fucking aliens bro..”
“I don’t know Ghandaal, I just looked at reddit and there’s videos of the fucking thing and it looks pretty alien to me. Here look at this shit dude”
“Holy fuck that’s... “
*ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO MUSTER LOCATIONS
ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO MUSTER LOCATIONS
ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO MUSTER LOCATIONS*
I stood there in formation like I always did. Like I always fucking did except this was different. No one talked. No one smoked a cigarette, no one had a monster in the pocket of their trousers. No one made a joke, no one smiled, no one laughed, and no one cried. We stood there, responding quickly and loudly when our names were called by our platoon sergeant
Hansen..
HERE
Holman..
HERE
Huaser..
Huaser!!!....
HERE, sorry SARGEANT
...Gander..
HERE SARGEANT
Gerheart..
HERE
Ghandaal...
HERE.
I heard my own voice. Like it came from someone else. I know it was me because I felt the muscles in my face move, but it didn’t sound like me. It sounded like a shitty recording of me on a YouTube video Jensen would be playing in his rack at 0200. Like I was half asleep listening to him watch a video I could barely hear, but was still annoyed by.
“All present Staff Sargeant”
“Thank you Sargeant, release the platoon to chow, and have them in full battle rattle at the shop in 45 mikes”
“You heard the Staff Sargeant gents, move!”
I didn’t go to chow. It was 1930 and I ate already and I wouldn’t be hungry anyway. I packed my bag quickly and efficiently like we were taught in boot camp. I threw my pack over my shoulder and was about to lock my barracks door when Johnson yelled to my from a couple doors down
“Ghandaal!! Yo grab that carton of smokes you bought yesterday, don’t know how long we’re gonna be fighting the aliens for”
This was the first time I had laughed in an hour and a half. Fucking Johnson...
“Ok, Johnson... I’ll make sure I have my smokes so you can have one while we’re fighting the aliens!”
I yelled back
I went back inside grabbed the carton off of my wall locker, and stepped out side again. I locked my door and took 6 steps on the catwalk when I saw it.
I saw the fucking ship with my own eyes. I saw it descent into view and then I saw it disappear in a mass of white light. I don’t remember hearing anything, I just remeber a flash, and then seeing what looked like fire works in an old movie from a hundred years ago in black and white...
| 2019-10-01T20:29:31 | 2019-10-01T20:00:13 | 24 | 12 |
[WP] A woman has been dating guy after guy, but it never seems to work out. She's unaware that she's actually been dating the same guy over and over; a shapeshifter who's fallen for her, and is certain he's going to get it right this time.
[deleted]
|
It's a painful transformation, but nonetheless a necessary one as I hid in the shadowy alley behind the cafe. I couldn't be late, lest I'm forced to endure another one of these metamorphoses.
I made my way into the cafe to meet with the divine Moyra for a fifth time in as many weeks. I introduced myself in a name that sounded so foreign on my tongue, and she smiled at me as she responded in kind. That smile was one that I could never get out of my head; her dazzling eyes as bright as the sunshine - *my* sunshine - swept over my newest body. I saw a shadow of disappointment flicker across her face before she gestured to the seat in front of her. If I hadn't known her as intimately as I did at this point, maybe I wouldn't have noticed it.
"Please, take a seat." She smiled, and I melted into her gaze as my new body responded to her request. I couldn't resist her, even if I wanted to.
The conversation was short and our exchanges polite. The hour flew by for me, but Moyra grew more and more restless as the clocked ticked on. Her hands fidgeted with the stone-cold tea in her grip. Her eyes forlorn, but her face still plastered with a smile.
Why could I never keep her interest? I've known her for so long, now - on our first date, she told me she was interested in baking, so I became Keith the Baker. He was too boring for her taste, so I became Gary the Comedian. She grew tired of his humour in only a few days, but at least she told me she was interested in botany... what a coincidence that her next date was with Frank the Florist. Yet, none of these personas could ever keep her invested. Today, as Charlie the Veterinarian, I made a last-ditch effort to find something else to be, something else to change into when she inevitably rejects the man in front of her.
She turns and gazes out the window, and that's when it hit me. She wasn't looking out the window. A pretty blonde woman, no older than 25, was watering the plants in her garden. Moyra sighed wistfully before pulling her gaze from the sight and turning to me again.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Charlie, but I don't think this will work out."
There it is. She never gives me a reason, but this time, I think I've worked it out.
...
The next time I bump into Moyra, there's no dark cloud of annoyance or disappointment in her amber eyes. She drinks me in, and her face has a luster I hadn't the pleasure of seeing until now.
"It's so lovely to meet you, Cassandra!"
|
"I don't know, I just..you seem a little too tall. I'm sorry.."
*Well that's just great, Brenda, you specifically said 6'4 as part of your 'Ideal Guy' scenario just yesterday.*
"I guess I can't check all the boxes now can I?" I say, not even bothering to hide my beaten pulp of a heart. What difference does it make if she doesn't know.
"I'm sure you'll find someone out there for you someday!" she says, as she signs off on the death sentence to this date.
"Yea, I guess," I concede, as my eyes lose all will for contact and my hand lazily swirls more pasta on my fork. Is this what 2020 hell looks like, a scenario so perfectly tailored to my suffering it might as well be on my Youtube recommended list?
On week one, I didn't hold the door open for her, because it reminded her of her ex, I ordered scallops to share because she loves seafood, and I said that Taylor Swift was clearly a national treasure.
The next week she disapprovingly glared at me for leaving her at the sidewalk, she said she was all about chicken, and that T.S. was so-so. The first five pages of my notebook all had lines crossed through everything.
The first couple of days I had gone for a burly firefighter look (too big). Then, it was a lean, Yoga instructor (too wiry). For one day I had a full beard (hipster), the next a goatee (try-hard). After maybe 40 combinations I was no closer to winning her affection than to narrowing a nose bridge height that was acceptable to her that day.
After a couple more swirls of my fork, I looked up to see if she was still there. Her eyes locked and gave no tell, no admiration or disdain.
"Can I ask, what it is that you want? Not like from this date, or any date, or from a guy, but...what is it that you want most in life right now?"
Her face relaxed, and she drooped, with her shoulders lowered and her head tilted. She had to think. She peeked at the window to the sidewalk, where the restaurant's neon sign illuminated the people walking by. Where I sat, all I saw was her surrounded in ember.
"I don't really know. I know I can be picky about things, about *everything*, but it's most likely because I really don't know what I want right now. I'm trying to figure that out myself to be honest."
She smirked and I smirked back.
| 2020-08-26T01:22:10 | 2020-08-25T23:52:27 | 20 | 12 |
[WP]It's your first night on the job as a Park Ranger. Your partner gives you one last piece of advice before you start your first night shift together "If you are out in the woods and you hear a woman screaming, whatever you do, do NOT run towards the screaming."
|
The crunching of gravel beneath my boots kept me company on my walk back to the cabin. It hadn't been a bad night. I could definitely get used to this. No claustrophobic cubicle for me anymore. Just a lovely open forest. The reds, yellows, and oranges combined into a beautiful array of colors that made me excited for Halloween.
*Kzzt*
"Hey, rookie. You almost back to base?" My partner asked me through the radio attached to my hip.
"Yeah, man. I'm almost there. Gimme 5 minutes." I told him.
"Gotcha, buddy. Be safe."
"Will do, thanks."
I took a deep breath of the fresh and crisp fall air. It chilled my chest as I inhaled. I couldn't wait to get a fresh cup of coffee, to warm me up. Nothing like a nice hot cup, on a night like this. I approached the two big trees adjacent to each other. The one on the left was slightly taller. We used it as a landmark to help us navigate. As I walked by them, I heard a faint and weak sniffle.
I shone my light underneath the tree and illuminated a young girl.
She was sobbing.
"Hey, it's going to be okay. I'm a Park Ranger. I can take you to your parents." I held out my hand and slowly approached her.
The poor little girl's clothes were in tatters. Her chest was soaked from her tears. At first she hesitated and turned away. I showed her my badge, and she started to come towards me. I knelt down to scoop her up. Right before she reached me, I heard a soft woman's voice.
"Come to me, honey. I'll take you home."
The voice startled me and I turned to her, she was standing on a rock. She was beautiful, and in a pearl white dress with no scuffs or dirt marks. Her hair was blonde.
"No, sweetie. Come to me, I'm a Park Ranger." I told the little girl.
I looked at the woman and said "Ma'am, I don't know who you are, or why the hell you're out here but you both need to come with me."
"That's it honey, come to me." She said.
While my attention was on the woman, the little girl ran toward her.
I walked towards them both.
"Don't take another step, filth." The woman told me. Her soft voice was now replaced with a scratchy growl.
"I'm taking her home." She said.
I pulled my gun out and just as I did she screamed. Her jaw unhinged like a snake.
She screamed so loud my ears rang and my eyes blurred. It was louder than a gunshot. I shook my head, and closed my ears.
I looked up at the rock, vision still blurred but they were both gone.
*kzzt*
"Did I hear what I just think I heard?" My partner asked me in a nervous yet firm voice.
"Yeah, you did."
"Don't even fucking think about going after her." He said in a somber and straight tone.
"She took a little girl."
"Oh.... Shit. Get the fuck out of there, and head for the cabin. Do you hear me? I'll meet you halfway."
"Ok."
I clutched my gun so tightly my knuckles turned white, and I ran.
|
He stood there in silence for just a bit too long after that. Staring me in the eyes intently.
"HAGH HAGH HAGH HAGH Ah I'm just kiddin' yah rookie" He slapped me on the shoulder and held it there. "U'm sure you'll be just fine."
"Jesus" I said, pushing his hand off. "This is probably why everyone calls you 'dick'."
His eyes narrowed and smile straightened. He looked at me like I was an idiot.
"We obviously haven't been introduced." He held out his hand. "Names Richard. But I guess you already know what most people call me."
I grabbed his hand with a guilty expression.
"Johnathan...sorry"
He rolled his eyes and took a few steps outside. He was large man with broad shoulders and a even broader mustache. He stuffed a lip in and spat aggressively.
"Suns about to set, you take first watch. I got somethin' needs taking care of." He slung a rifle around his shoulder and disappeared into the woods.
Couple hours passed and Dick was no where to be found (Sounds like my wedding night...). So I decided to call him up.
"*zzzt* Everything alright out there Dick?"
Nothing.
"*zzt* Dick?! Hello?"
.....
.....
"*zzt* I'm busy!" He sounded out of breath. "Just stay put and DO NOT leave the cabin!"
I sat for a moment in confusion. Why was he out of breath?
Just then I heard a gunshot echo through the trees....
And again....
Then a scream pierced into the night. Followed by silence.
I stood slowly and peaked out the window...it sounded close. I pulled a gun from the closet and began loading it. Pushing the bullets in as fast as I could. My hands shaking and heart thumping from my chest.
*Thump*
Something knocked against the door.
*Thump, Thump.*
I pointed the rifle at the door. Beads of sweat falling down my forehead.
Several minutes passed. I didn't move. I couldn't move.
I saw a light coming from outside go through the window. Moving rhythmically. It source was getting closer.
The knob turned and the door slid open. I cocked the gun.
Dick walked through the door casually, flashlight in hand. He glanced over at me and gave me a strange look. Then put his rifle on the table and began cleaning it.
"What happened out there Dick?"
I finally said.
He paused for a second, as if he was trying to figure out what I was talking about.
"Oh you mean the gunshots. Just doing a bit of hunting newbie, noth-"
*Thump, thump*
Dick head whirled towards the door with a frightened expression. Then glanced at me.
"Just the wind, someone should really fix that damn door!"
*Thump, Thump*
I took a step forward to answer it. But was interrupted by the sound of Dick cocking his rifle. I turned my head to see I was looking down the barrel of his gun.
"What did I tell you rookie? Stay inside..."
*Thump, Thump*
"I won't let her steal you again"
| 2017-10-23T18:31:00 | 2017-10-23T16:16:10 | 45 | 28 |
[WP] Turns out Humans are tiny compared to any other species of aliens, allowing them to live off in the nooks and crannies of alien spaceships. Colonies can live on ships for generations unseen and unknown, or have a mutually beneficial relationship with a crew.
|
The humans arrived aboard the alien ship entirely by accident. A critical hyperdrive failure caused them to drop out of warp between stars, on their way to a new world. The colonists and crew tried to fix their ship, The Columbus, to no avail. Without a hyperdrive and with massive damage to the rest of the ship, she drifted helplessly though the void
Just as they began to resign themselves to a fate of being lost in deep space, a blip appeared on what sensors still worked. A very large blip. At first they thought it was a rogue planet or moon, flung from it's star by some gravitational disturbance. But as they limped over for closer look they realised it was no moon, but a craft.
A massive flattened cylinder, with flattened sides, tapering at it front end. The hull was gunmetal grey and no windows lined it's hull. The huge engines burned like a star at the back or the craft. Before warp bubble, ships would accelerate toward their destination for half the distance, then flip over and use the engines to decelerate the rest of the way. Although these aliens hadn't mastered warp bubble technology yet, but the humans hoped they could be of some assistance.
The humans attempted contact, but the Leviathan remained silent. They could see no signs of whatever incredable alien beings created this giantic marvel of engineering. No lights besides the glow of the engines, no contact from any know frequency, no curious probe swooping in for a scan. Eventually, the humans decided to force their way in. With what little weapons the ship had, and some mining equipment the colonists brought, they bore their way into the hull.
The marines who boarded found a sprawling maze of huge egg shaped corridors 80 meters tall, dark and cold. Nothing seemed to be on, the lights off and the doors all locked. They managed to get into a vent and explored the rooms of the ship. They found great halls streching for hundreds of meters with rows of huge cryopods, and inside slept titans. Hundreds in each room. Tubes and pipes fed various liquids and gases into and out of each pop and into tunnels behind the walls.
The humans continued to sent parties inside the ship. Engineers and scientists tried their best to study the alien titans technology, while the marines explored further. But they didn't find anything that they could use to fix their own vessel, the alien technology being so far removed from the humans. Crystals instead of circuits, liquid rather than wires, and even some organic parts with completely unknown purpose.
The Columbus slowly died, system by system, surcombing to her wounds, until the humans were forced to abandon her. She was landed gently into the hull and left to rest, anchored until they could retuen to her. They moved into the vents and service tunnels, which were warm compaired to the high corridors, thanks to the various pipes and tubes that fed in and out from the strange alien machinery.
The humans set up a colony with various recoved scrap and bits of harvested alien material. The colonists canabalises the Columbia's hydroponics, air and water filtration machines; as well as other important parts to make their own haven in this alien place.
For decades the Leviathan silently shot through empty space towards it's unknow destination. The human stowaways created clever ways to use alien materials for their own purposes, allowing them to grow the colony and establish others. They continued to explore, ever deeper into the bowels this alien place.
The titans numbered in the tens of thousands. All sleeping, frozen in their pods for what must have been thousands of years. The leviathan was more like a city than any ship by human standards. Maybe the titans too were colonists, off to a distant world to make a home.
A group of scientists who studied the aliens stood in a hall of cryopods, normally quiet, still, unchanging, suddenly the room exploded with light, noise and activity. The whole ceiling glowed bright blue, steam gushed from some of the pods, and what must have been a siren blared deafening and filled the air with bass. The whole ship lurched sickeningly as it flipped stern over bow. The Leviathan had began her decent.
The scientists tried to recover for this jarring event, when they became bathed in gas form a nearby pod. The sounds of metal creaking filled the air, peicing alarmingly past the siren. The ground shook. A shadow cast over them, they all looked up, and in the clearing mist, stood a titan.
|
Little green men. Who the fuck came up with that line? In the Fifties, people all over were using this to describe “aliens” It wasn’t until 2027 when there was true, recorded contact, that we realized all ET’s do not fit the same bill. The first contact we had was with those who call themselves Nordics, and yeah, those guys are all 3 meters tall \(9 ft.\), minimum. They reached us at the ISS, and docked in a timeframe that no human could rightfully do in one try. More humanoid in appearance than could be ignored, many of us on the crew wondered if we were staring at our ancestors. Possibly even our creators.
We didn’t get too much time to dwell, because within just a few days of meeting the Nordics, we were escorted to some sort of intergalactic federation. Federation of United Galaxies. Although I couldn't read the words, we were told it meant The Federation of United Galaxies. Being a crew of many nationalities, it was easier to just call it FUG. That was our first glimpse into an intergalactic powerhouse that had been in full operation since longer than our planet had been rotating around the sun.
I was staring at pretty much every known intelligent species since the Big Bang, and it didn’t take long for anyone to realize that we really had to crane our necks up to see anyone. Who knew that at 1.8 meters \(6 ft.\), I would be considered short?
Every being already knew what humans were, but none tried to actually reach out to us. I suppose this is similar to a human reaching out to invite a band of chimps into NATO. And so it was, we were never formally invited in, but allowed to sit in on certain FUG discussions for some time until we were more properly vetted.
As the ship’s captain and 2nd mechanic, I was more interested in seeing the other ships than I was in listening to some foreign ET discuss dumping rights on Jupiter, so I started to sneak out and just ogle the ships. One day, the others from the ISS saw me slip out, and they followed. We started to notice that no one really paid any attention to us, but I couldn’t tell if it was because we were new, foreign, or just so damn tiny.
It was early May, 2027, when the crew and I accidentally got involved with an operation. The 5 of us again slipped out of the conferences, and we walked on board a Prii destroyer, easily the biggest fucking piece of metal I have ever seen. I went to see Mt. Rushmore as a child back on Earth, and I’m pretty sure if this ship landed on those heads, they would be eclipsed. We were pretty deep in the ship when I heard the first alarm ring out. But by then it was already too late. The Prii were rushing onto the ship, and before the ramp drew to a close, I saw every other alien running to their ships.
No one saw us, no one asked why we were there. There were 5 human beings, but it might as well been 5 cockroaches. So, like roaches, we scurried to a small nook in the ship to avoid detection, and more importantly – avoid getting trampled.
We sat on that ship for what could only have been 2 hours, but then I could feel everything starting to slow down. There was a window, but it was about 3 stories over our head. Luckily, there were some grooves and notches in the wall, so we used them to pull ourselves up.
What I saw will haunt my remaining years. I saw Earth. Only, I saw it with about 8 dozen intergalactic war ships surrounding it. I wondered aloud what the hell was happening, and not too long after I got my answer. There was another fleet! Foreign even to the Prii and the others we had been spending time with. We were about to be in battle, and I was about as useless as dryer lint.
It has now been 31 days since the battle. The Prii could not win, and were forced to retreat while the opponent landed, and presumably conquered Earth. Now, we 5 humans stow away as the last free humans in existence. We mustn’t let that concern us. Or mission is now to colonize this ship, and bring it back to take back our home planet. Knowing this could take at least 2 more generations, will those who take back Earth even be human anymore?
| 2018-05-30T14:01:30 | 2018-05-30T13:04:59 | 106 | 45 |
[WP] Soul mates are real and technology has finally allowed for detection of some peoples “other half" at the speed of light using quantum messaging. When you were tested there was no response, now 10 years later you are called in to let you know a response has just arrived.
thats all you get to go on, can be born years apart, could be distance, could be missing soul, whatever you want.
theme, setting and genre all up to you.
*"technology" can be magic, natural human empathy, gods, whatever.
|
It's been 7 long years since you left me. The counselor told me that the pain would become more manageable. With time. And sometimes I think maybe it will. Then I'll hear the creak of the floorboards, and expect to see you shuffling into the room as you did, that beautiful smile on your face making my heart skip a beat, as it always did. But you're not there. And then I'm back, back in that damn hospital room, the doctors surrounding your bed, telling me it's time to say goodbye.
I still get the paper every morning, bright and early, before you get up, so I can have it ready for you when you wake up. I've been reading about this new fangled technology that apparently allows you to find your soul mate, your companion through the journey of life. Well, I already knew who my soul mate was, so they wouldn't be able to find mine. Not anymore. But they were offering to pay for people to come out and try it, and it sure beat sitting at home all day.
So I went up to the University, and go into this dark room, way underground. I tell him you ain't going to find my soul mate, she's not with us anymore, and they offer a sympathetic smile, and tells me they've never not found anyone yet. He don't believe me. I don't bother to argue though. He's young, he'll learn he doesn't know everything yet.
So he sits me down, and tells me to put my hand in this machine, and I'd be able to know my companion right away. I put my hand in, and didn't need no damn scientist to tell me what I already knew.
No match.
That scientist could not believe it. He calls in another scientist, then another. They keep making me do the test. Still nothing. Other people do it, and they all get results. But not me.
Cos I knew it was you. How could it not be. 7 years since you took your final journey, and my soul aches to be with you again. I'll be right beside you soon. Just waiting for my time right now.
----
10 years since I stuck my hand in that machine, and they come knocking on my door, all excited. They told me I'm the only person they've never found a match for, but they'd made improvements. Now it could locate your companion for you.
So back I go, stick my hand in the machine. Ping.
A match.
They start talking excitedly. They give me an address to go to. I'm numb. How can this be? There can't ever be anyone else like you. All I can do is go to that address and prove them wrong.
So I walked into that room where she was waiting for me. Hand trembling, ready to prove those know-it-all scientists wrong, I went in. I saw her, sitting there. And what do you know, they were right. I'd felt that way once before. That feeling of completeness when you know everything is right. Not quite the same. A little different than it was with you. But not dissimilar. I'd found someone else.
She moved in with me shortly afterwards, and wasted no time in sharing my bed with me. Although she now probably think's of it as hers, and she'd probably be right. I don't even go for the paper alone in the morning, she comes with me. But it's more than that. The way her eyes light up when I walk into the room, joy written all over her face.
The pain of losing you is still sometimes unbearable. But she's there for me when it gets too bad, dragging me back from the dark places when the memories walk our house too much.
It may not replace the hole in my heart which came with your passing. But a dog's what I need right now. Until I join you my love.
|
Journal Entry 1: My name is Jeremiah Slovis. I have decided to write these journal entries to document my existence in a way that my celebrety does not. I want to start from the beginning.
If you are reading this, I am probably dead, and you might not remember the tender year of 1978: The Centenial of the introduction of the aptly named Soul Match (TM). This was a noteworthy year for several reasons: For one hundred years, seventy five of which had seen the machine a cultural right of passage, it had boasted a genuine 100 percent success rate in matching those with their soul mates. It was especially relevant to me because I broke that winning streak.
At the age of 18, twenty years ago today, I waited in line for what seemed like an eternity. I had traveled for two weeks across the world to the machine's headquarters in Tokyo, most of which was spent the once great Titanic (fourth deck below), surrounded by other hopeful almost-adults from as far as Paris. That was the route back then for the budget steam liners: Start in Egypt, make stops around Europe heading north, then to New York, followed by a long trip through the Panama Canal. I caught it from Maryland.
I remember spending most of my time with a French girl named Sonia. We both loved to pontificate on what our futures might hold, and deep down in my gut, I had hoped that we would be matched together. But it was not to be, and those tender memories are painful even today, so Ill stop here.
Two days on line finally found me entering the monolithic tower that held the device. It apparently harnessed radio waves boucing off the moon (and from the rest of the universe) to accurately predict the person you are matched with. When I asked the harrassed looking custodian, dressed in a dirty, once white labcoat how it worked, he told me to get a degree in theoretical thermodynamics (which I did). I have since learned that it takes impressions from the farthest parts of the universe in real time: Meaning that it can see the future of our world through the vibrations of the radioactive signals that inherintly eminate off of our souls; meaning that it could predict the future, but only in very trace ways; meaning that its calculations ruined my life because of society's belief in fate; meaning that a long dead mathematician doomed me to a solitary life where the only love I experience is with my dog, Gallileo.
I do love Gallileo. Or rather I did, until he ate chocolate out of the garbage.
The building is formidable. It is a tower surrounded by five miles of barren urban landscape, mostly flattened. The line starts at the gate, stretches all the way to the tower in the center. It takes three days on average to get through the line, which is fine, because there is a large number of vendors with carts decorating the line. Once at the fifteen foot door, you enter; alone.
The antechamber is brightly lit, but very retro. It looks like it hasnt been redecorated since the fifties. To my knowledge, it still looks that way: but no one ever goes in twice. It leads to an elevator that takes you all the way to the top of the tower. It takes fifteen minutes: That is how tall it is.
After all this, you strap yourself into what looks like a dentist chair that looks as if millions of people have sat in it before you, but curiously embroidered with pink and (dirty) white lines.
I sat in the chair. The team of scientists and custodians waited. The head custodian turned on the device, which starts with a humm. We waited.
After an hour, I headed out into the unforgiving exit path. I cried the whole way.
(to be continued, in class)
| 2015-11-30T12:28:23 | 2015-11-30T11:02:13 | 87 | 15 |
[WP] There's an urban legend in your town called "Grinning Greg". A twisted, horrifying grinning face can be seen on the window of an abandoned church before a calamity strikes. This year, "Greg" appears on the window, but he frowns.
|
His face emerged at night, in the early hours. Snow had fallen recently and the village was bathed in that comforting, sickly-sweet yellow glow from the flames of the street lamps. He wasn't discovered until hours later when the milkman trundled past on his cart. Humming, he drove down the road on the way to his first delivery. Silent, he stopped his cart and looked up at the window of the church.
He had seen this a few times before, everybody had. That grey ghastly face which appears on the church windows shortly before some grim misfortune befalls their little village. The locals gave a name to the aberration, they called him 'Grinning Greg', and they knew that his appearance meant trouble.
The milkman stumbled out of his cart in a frenzy, slipping over the freshly-fallen snow towards the village hall. A small bell-tower stood there, it had done for as long as anybody alive could remember, and at some point its use had been reserved for alerting the residents of Greg's arrival. The bell began to toll, its sombre knells rapid and irregular; reflecting something of the panic felt by its ringer, and of the dread it instilled in the hearts of the drowsy villagers it awoke.
Soon a crowd had gathered outside of the church. People stood huddled together in their dressing gowns and night clothes. They spoke frantically to each other, their hushed tones muted further by the soft snow surrounding them. This was Greg alright, but not as they knew him. Greg wasn't grinning this time, he no longer affected that mocking, irreverent smirk the people had come to know and to despise. Greg didn't look pleased with himself at all. In fact, he looked down-right miserable.
A low, aching tone seemed to emerge from deep within the church and the people broke-off conversation and looked up towards the features of their unhappy omen. The noise, almost a moan, repeated itself, more loudly and for longer this time. It was as if the building was trying to speak, as if Greg was through some monumental and supernatural effort attempting to give a voice to those lips which had tormented the villagers for so long.
The noises continued with increasing frequency and rhythm until words could finally be discerned amid the melodic cacophony Greg was now producing.
"This" he got out at last. The people strained to hear, they leaned towards the church but at this point the voice had enveloped them completely.
"This", he repeated, "is the day I die. But do not despair, children. While my vigil is soon to end, my office remains permanent and essential. With what little strength remains to me, and in the recesses of my immeasurable pain, I will nominate a successor. One of you must enter here and perform the tasks which were assigned to me many centuries ago. One of you must warn this village and protect it from those dark forces which mortal minds struggle to comprehend. One of you, children, must become Greg."
|
As for me & my friend, Alistair was heading towards an abandoned church were legends were told we heard a stick snap. Looking around we sighed & chuckled trying to remain to assuage. We heard how a man named Greg once attended a church. One day, a serial killer came into the church & murdered everybody there. That is why it is abandoned, even to this day. Greg, fortunately, survived but died on the way to the hospital. The next day, his body went missing as they found it in the church. Nobody ever went into the church after seeing his horrifying face. There have been over a dozen cases of people committing suicide after seeing his face.
"I wonder if this Greg Grinning thing is real" Alistair joked, he was that typical geek who spent his time playing Dungeons & Dragons or trying to hack into the latest game on his IBM PCjr.
"I highly doubt we would actually kill ourselves, right?" I say overthinking if I really would die from some crazy man's grin.
After what seemed like ages, we finally got to the church & saw nothing abnormal.
"Let's go check the windows!" Alistair chimes as he peeked through a window.
I shrug heading towards the window closest to the church's door. This building had been made centuries ago, surprised it held until that mass murder spree came along.
"I wonder what Greg looks like," I say as I eye up closer to a figurine in the benches.
"You find anything?" Alistair says coming towards me.
"I don- ahhhhh!!" Jumping back I accidentally stumbled onto rock & fall as I feel the wind get knocked out of me.
Alistair comes to my aid "Are you all right!? What's wrong?"
"I- I saw him!" I say trying to get ahold of myself.
Alistair turns around towards the window & there we see him. Instead of grinning, he was there frowning.
"Why is he frowning?" Alistair says helping me up onto my feet as I dust myself off.
"I don't know"
Alistair & I walk towards the window as we hear him weeping ever so silently. We decide to go into the church as he turns his head towards our direction. We start to get anxious as we try & greet ourselves.
He sits down & in a rough voice, he says "I always smile, today I am tired. Everybody is scared of me, my grin is just a smile, they didn't kill me; why should I be frowning about that? I am only upset about how you killed me." & with that, he points to Alistair.
Standing there I feel my world cracking. This man I called my best friend, the one who I spent hours playing Dungeons & Dragons in his Mom's basement was actually a killer!?
I fled out the door & never returned.
| 2020-03-28T14:09:54 | 2020-03-28T10:54:11 | 74 | 28 |
[WP] Write a seemingly normal story, except for the last sentence, which makes the entire story creepy
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After having a child my wife and I wanted to go against the stereotype of the stay at home mom. That's right, my job title went from 'District Manager of Carmike Cinemas' to 'Stay At Home Dad'. Okay so in all honesty we didn't do this to fight the stereotypes, my wife had a better paying job as a doctor; so instead of hiring a nanny, we decided it would be best if I just stayed with our kid.
My favorite thing about watching a newborn, was nighttime. I would put our precious baby in her crib for the night. Then I would get to go downstairs in the backroom, AKA: The Man Cave, and watch TV until my wife got home. I always knew when she was home because her angelic singing voice would come over the baby monitor I had with me. I would still stay tucked away in my man cave until she actually came to get me out. I thought it was important that we could both have some alone time each day with our child.
After listening to my wife's beautiful lullaby, she came in the room about 30 minutes later visibly angry. She was upset that I kept making her cook after her long days of work. So being the somewhat generous man I am, I suggested we cook together tonight. She loved the idea! It had been so long since we've actually had the chance to do something that wasn't parent duty.
While I was cutting up the tomatoes for our salad, I got a strange idea.
"Honey?"
"Yes, Love?" I loved her pet name for me.
"I know this is odd, but do you think you could sing me a song? Preferably the lullaby you sing to Emma every night when you get home. You're voice is so amazing over the monitor, I can't begin to imagine the perfection it is in the same room."
"George, I never go in Emma's room when I get home. She's already asleep, I don't want to risk waking her up."
|
I drive a school bus. You must understand, this job was never my first choice. I wasn't sitting in elementary school thinking "I wanna be a bus driver!" while everyone else chose astronauts, football players, singers, or dinosaurs. But sometimes life pushes you in a certain direction and you wind up exactly where you ought to be.
I love kids. No, not in that way, you sicko. I was in an accident years ago that left me with remarkably functional, yet entirely mutilated... well, suffice to say, I can't have kids of my own. And when you can't have something, you just want it more.
The story of how I discovered this career path is a long and boring one, but I'm glad things lined up the way they did. I love seeing each kid's smile as they eagerly run down their driveway, backpack slapping back and forth behind them, before gingerly taking steps up the stairs. Being the kindhearted person I am, I have a bowl of snacks that most kids take from before sitting down. It's an assortment of chocolate cookies, salamis, and cheeses (sweet and savory, can't cater to just one palate), and while there are a few children who think they taste funny, I'm not claiming to be anywhere close to a decent chef. But I do try.
Then there are the kids who trudge along a bit more slowly. No smile. Children with souls that have been beaten out of them. Sunken eyes, neutral expression, wondering why their parents ever bothered. Why they even exist. It pains me to my very core.
And I simply can't let it slide.
Fortunately, disposing their parents' bodies is a breeze; you know how kids will eat anything with chocolate or cheese!
*************
*For more horror shorts, check out /r/Zchxz!*
| 2016-05-19T15:48:47 | 2016-05-19T13:55:45 | 29 | 21 |
[WP] Write about a world where whenever somebody writes on their skin, it appears on their soulmate's body as well.
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Hungover, my head throbbed with a headache that refused to allow me a moment’s solace. It seemed to echo perpetually throughout my skull, making me wish that I’d never left Veronica’s house. I should have probably called in sick, but of course, today I had to meet with a special client. He was some big guy in real estate and didn’t have the time to reschedule. I knew that, and yet I was still stupid enough to let Veronica drag me into her victory parade through the city’s underbelly.
I spent the entire night with her. From sunset all the way till I woke up thirty minutes ago. We bounced around different bars, chased shadows down random alleys. She was trying to get me to meet people, but I’m not the most social person. Veronica, who’s a finger painter who just sold her latest painting, was more than social enough for the both of us.
All I really remembered was a whirlwind of colorful drinks, failed flirtations (in which Veronica tried to be my wing woman but then I had to get the bar creeps off of her), before I found myself waking up at 9:30 to hurl a cocktail of nightmares down Veronica’s toilet. My stomach must have flip-flopped in there, and when I surfaced, somewhat washed up I told her I had to head home and change. I had about two hours until my meeting, but when she saw me, she laughed so hard that she spit out her water.
Veronica could take her alcohol like a rugged sailor, so I assumed she was laughing at how disheveled I looked. She bid me good luck on my meeting, trying to stifle a laugh. Then grabbed my shirt on the way out and told me to take extra care in washing my face.
I decided to take the bus home and come back later to pick up my car from her driveway. My head was still spinning and my arms felt like noodles stuffed into my jacket. I just wanted to get home, eat something, and put on some clean clothes.
When I found a seat (the bus was nearly empty except for an older gentleman who’d fallen asleep in the back and a woman who sat across from me), I hurried to sit down, not trusting my stomach once the bus started moving. All I could see of the woman was her long slender legs in a brilliant yellow sundress that hurt my eyes to look at. She had short brown hair that was about shoulder length, and I imagined she would be rather pretty. But she had her nose buried in a book raised so high that I couldn’t see her face at all.
The bus hit a pothole, and she jumped. That was when I spotted the penis someone had drawn on her left cheek.
For some reason I could not explain, perhaps it was the haze my mind was in or the nauseating waves of anxiety emanating from my poor tummy, but the sight of someone so pretty with such a crude and vulgar drawing made me laugh out loud.
She looked up, furious and beautiful, her sharp nose and pouty lips itching for a fight. But when she caught sight of me, her face relaxed. A smile appeared. Her eyes lit up, the softest, most wonderful shade of brilliant brown I’d ever seen.
She tapped the drawing on her cheek. “So it was you.”
Edit: Wrote this on my phone last night in a hurry because I liked the prompt. Fixed it up a bit. :)
|
Everyday, something appears on my arm. Or hand. Or wrist. Basically anything near those areas. My supposed soulmate likes to write in those places all the time. I'm guessing they're forgetful, because it's always notes or locations. All. The. Time. Not even a cute doodle. Just reminders.
I never write on my skin. I don't really like the appearance of ink or anything being on my skin in general, especially since someone I don't even know could see it. That's *kind of* embarrassing. How could people deal with someone writing random stuff and it appearing on their arm everyday?
-----------------------------------------
I'm in my fifth period, APUSH. It's a note taking day, so obviously all of the kids in class take advantage of this time and sleep. As I'm writing down notes, I look at my arm. Writing begins to appear in thick black ink. *What this time...* Letters appear one by one. *M..c..c..l..a..* More and more pop up. Then numbers. *McClains. 3:00 P.M Today* That place sounded so familiar. *Oh!* The coffee shop downtown! My friends and I use to always go there freshman year before school. The good ol' days. It was only a 10 minute walk. *Oh my god. It's basically destiny* I knew I had to go. This isn't some sort of coincidence. *Do I dare write back...?* I look at the pen in my hand. *Here goes nothing...* I begin to write. The ink was pitch black and my hand writing looked absolutely nothing like theirs. They have to notice it. "I'll be there." I write. *I'll definitely be there...*
--------------------------------
It's 3:03. I'm sitting on one of the couches at the coffee shop, sipping on black coffee. I skim the shop, looking for people with visible writing on their hands. The person didn't respond after what I wrote. *Oh my god, what happens if they didn't come? Ugh, why am I so weird??* I hear a bell ding and look at the door.
*Oh my god...* She was so stunning. She had long, black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. *Is she...?* I try to look at her arms. *Ugh.. I can't see* She walks towards the line as I'm there sitting, watching her every move. This goes for a couple minutes until she orders her coffee. She stands and waits, looking at her phone. *Do I.. go over there? I have to. Oh my god, go go go* My body forces itself up and I walk over towards her.
My body makes its way a few feet behind her. I look at her arm. *Black ink. Oh my god, that has to be her!* I breathe in. *You got this... I think. Hopefully* I walk near her and tap her on the shoulder.
She turns and looks at me, her beautiful eyes looking at mine. She smiles. It was such a beautiful smile. I manage to start stuttering out words.
"Um...So... I think you're my soulmate?"
| 2018-04-01T20:55:22 | 2018-04-01T20:04:01 | 126 | 75 |
[WP] Being a tavern wench is good, honest work. You wear long sleeves, not to hide scars but swirling tattoos. You’ve always had them. Today, an adventuring party come in. The shirtless ones have the same tattoos, and theirs not only swirl … they glow.
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I was intrigued. I've never known anyone with the same tattoos as mine, let alone an exact copy of them. But it was the glow theirs emitted that made me question everything I've believed about myself for so long.
Their tattoos glowed with a familiar blue tinge, like you were staring at the sky just as the sun is about to enter the horizon. The tattoos rippled like flame, creating minuscule licks of fire that radiated from the surface of their skin. The two had skin like snow, and hair like sparkling rubies. Their eyes were like mine, golden as the coins passed around at the marketplace.
I had to know. I needed to know. Who are they? What are those tattoos? And what does mine mean?
I put down the wooden tray I've been carrying all day at the bar. I approached the group of adventurers warily but with purpose. With every step I took, my heart pounded a little faster and a little louder. The group has now taken notice of me. Their heads turning towards my direction. *Why is that? Why are they looking at me?*
That's when I felt it: a burning sensation. It started at my back. It felt like the branding irons they used on me when I was first brought to this city as a slave. The pain was now traveling to my arms down to my wrists; t felt like my skin was peeling. I couldn't help but scream in complete agony. The shock of the pain made me fall to my knees. My vision blurred and darkened. I looked up only to see myself surrounded.
The group of adventurers were now standing around me in a circle, their skins bared out to the air. All of them had tattoos like the two I saw before, and all of them glowed like blue fire. A crowd had started to form inside the tavern, but they were all keeping a distance from all the commotion.
I struggled to stand as amber light snaked along my tattoos. I looked at my arms, as golden liquid dripped from the burnt surface of my skin. Soon enough, my tattoos were glowing like the adventurers, but mine was bright and searing and warm. The amber fire danced over the surface of my pale skin, embers crackling like a bonfire.
One by one, the adventurers started to kneel and prostrate before me. The one in front of me spoke with a voice as clear as glass.
"We have been looking for you for so long, oh Almighty Flame."
He raised his head and looked at me with an expression of complete subservience.
"Guide us to the great Inferno, my lord... that we fulfill our true purpose."
\------
End.
|
I get grief for wearing men's shirts, but they hide the markings on my arms better. They go from my collar bone to the tips of my fingers, in an intricate swirling design that is nothing like anything in this township
I don't remember much before about 6 years of age, so I can't really say how long I have had the tattoos, but they have been there for as long as I can remember.
The tavernkeeper, a big paunchy fellow, yelled for me, and I scrambled out of the kitchen where I'd been trying to grab a minute to eat.
"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep the weariness from my voice. Then I saw. Across the smoky room, were four strapping men. One of them had a sneer on his face that said that given the chance, he'd tease me on the size of my breasts and hips; one looked extremely nondescript, and the other two had polite but alert expressions on their faces.
Mine tavernkeeper was not pleased that they'd walked in, all shirtless, but he knew better than to make a big deal. For myself, I started weaving around the tables towards them before I realized I was moving. Their shirtlessness was not the astounding thing to me; they all four had the same tattoos as me. And what's more, the markings glowed.
When I got to them, the nondescript one smiled at me, a real smile, with his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Wanna back with us?" His accent was strange; liquid and hard to understand.
"B-back?"
He nodded. "You've been stranded in the past long enough. We came to collect you."
I turned around for a moment, to hide my face. The glimmers of an early memory were on the edge of my mind: a warm light smell, a soft voice and a gentle breeze on my face. It contrasted with my current life. Strong smells, rough bed, hard bread to eat. No breeze in the hot summers and too much wind in the cold winters.
Still, I hesitated. Going into the unknown was scarier than staying in what I knew would happen. If everything stayed the same: me serving at this tavern through the turn of seasons until I was an old woman. I half laughed to myself and turned back to the four men.
One of the polite ones reached out and put a hand on one of my wrists, pushing the sleeve up a bit, exposing the tattoos that matched theirs. "You wouldn't have to hide these."
I took a deep breath, looking up at him. "Okay. Take me with you. Please."
So they did.
| 2021-06-15T08:01:49 | 2021-06-15T07:16:26 | 187 | 75 |
[WP] We were warned when we hired our first human crew member that they would pack bond with almost anything. We didn't listen, and now have an apex predator somewhere in the ship, that the human won't stop calling Kitty.
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A part of me argued that it really wasn't the human's fault. They were newcomers to the galactic stage. They hadn't developed the wealth of experiences that the other races had. Some even argued that their racial naivety was a strength. Freed from the long held grudges and stereotypes that other races held tightly to, humanity beheld the galaxy and all of its inhabitants with fresh eyes.
I wanted to believe that the humans could help us learn more about ourselves. In fact, I was one of the loudest voices in support of the new human crewmember. But even I had underestimated the human's ability to pack bond with inanimate objects and dangerous creatures.
"It's just a kitty!"
"No Human. A Theandraw is not -just- an anything! They are voracious predators who will eat anything that moves."
The human smiled widely at that. Logically, I knew that this was a sign of mirth, likely at my expense. But it was disturbing how such smiles displayed the sharper human canine teeth.
"That is the thing. You can't run from it. Then you are just -begging- to be chased. You have to let it come to you and smell you first. You have to let it know you. Then you can pet it all you like."
They-Jimu shuddered at the humans expression. Any Taldross who had ever gotten close enough for a Theandraw to smell their scent had become it's prey. Few were fortunate to survive such experiences.
They-Jimu had never put too much stock into the tall human stories that had spread through the quadrant. Surely they had to be exxageration or superstition. What species would willingly expose themselves to solar radiation burns on a regular basis because they found their bodies defensive mechanism to it visually appealing? There was another story, however. about humans turning all of their most fearsome predators into pets that was beginning to sound all too likely to be true.
"Theandraw do not allow themselves to be pet. Nor would any Taldross attempt it. The mere idea of it is ludicrous. An attempt at self destruction. These are not creatures that can be tamed! Fortunately, with the planet behind, we are safe. Just be more careful in the future Human."
The human's smile had only somehow grown at that.
"It's perfectly safe and well behaved! Here. I will show you!" The human had taken one of his left arms and lead him towards the cargo bays. The human truly didn't understand proper form at times.
"Show me what Human?" The cargo bay doors had loomed large above them as they approached.
"How well trained the kitty is! It's very smart you know. It does everything I ask." The human opened the cargo bay door and the smell washed out of it. Blood. With its weaker olfactory senses, the human didn't seem to notice.
"By the glories! You brought it with you?!?" They-Jimu scrambled back from the door, out of the human's hold. He scrambled for the doors emergency over-ride when soft thuds sounded nearby. He froze as primitive fear responses over-rode his brain. He could smell the stronger scent of blood with that particular musk all his people knew and feared. He turned to see the human approach the Theandraw. The small figure stood only half as tall as the creature but instead of attacking it merely reached out and pulled the human close. It even started licking the human, grooming it.
Understanding grew within They-Jimu. It really wasn't the human's fault. The alpha predator of the sector appeared to pose no threat to the human. It truly seemed to want to please it.
It was almost as if the "kitty" had claimed the human as it's property, or pet. And now as the human waves and urged They-Jimu to join it. He felt the eyes of death come to rest on him.
The human didn't understand. It really wasn't its fault.
Read more of my work at /r/The_Tales_Of_Jimothy
|
"What were you thinking?" Sareul screamed, three of his four appendages flailing. "We don't allow pets on board. There are no pets in space. And that thing you brought back with you," his eye twitched and mouth wavered as his voice broke on the word *thing*. Sareul took a deep breath and continued, "That thing is not a pet, in any situation."
Alex just stared back blankly and blinked. "He's just like a big kitty. You haven't given Mr. Snippens a chance," he argued.
"You gave it a name?" Sareul's voice climbed another octave and Alex knew it was a sign Sareul would likely never come around to his point of view.
"Yes, Mr. Snippens," Alex made little pinching motions with both hands, "because of his--"
"Okay, because of the claws," Sareul pinch the center of his face ridge and swallowed a few gasping breaths. Alex patiently waited for him to compose himself. He just had to get Sareul calm enough to meet Mr. Snippens. Once he saw how cute and lovable he was, as long as he was kept fed, would surely sway Sareul to allow the creature to stay on the ship.
"You've put us all in danger. A lot of danger. I told the captain when we hired a human--" Sareul's lip twisted up in what looked like a sneer. Alex clenched his jaw. Sareul had hated him from the moment he'd reported to the *Rhapsody*. Maybe he should have started with one of the crew members who had been more open minded about him. Perhaps they'd be willing to listen.
"Is it possible," Alex interjected calmly, "that you're transferring your prejudice for me to an innocent kitty. Neither of us have done anything to you, and yet you were set on getting rid of us from the moment we both stepped on the ship."
Sareul started to turn an interesting shade of crimson, one Alex had never seen on his species before. "Your kitty is a mastritrode, an apex predator and absolute killer, so yes, once it finds me it will likely maul or kill me. So I think that's decent enough reason to want it off the ship. And you're the one that brought it here, so I think my opinions of you have been more than justified."
"Look, I see we're not going to see eye-to-eye right now. Let's take some time to sleep on the issue and come back," Alex began but an ominous *tap, tap, tap* that rumbled through the very floor stopped them both.
"It's here, isn't it," Sareul hissed.
"It will be fine, you just can't show any fear. It's like my dad always said-" Alex said patiently but Sareul was already backing away.
"Come on, if we can get through this hatch and seal it, we can open this part of the ship to vacuum and that will take care of the problem." Sareul said, motioning to Alex with two of his hands.
Alex gaped. He saw now there was no way to convince Sareul. Mr. Snippens was good at taking care of himself, but Sareul seemed intent on playing dirty. *Yes,* Alex thought, *I should have started with one of the other members of the crew first*. But Sareul had been so vocal and had been swaying people to his side. He wouldn't repeat the same mistake next time.
"Okay," Alex said, moving towards Sareul. As they reached the air-tight hatch to the next portion of the ship, Alex put a hand on the bulkhead. "I am sorry. I should have planned this better," he said, before slamming on the quarantine lock, sealing them inside the portion of the ship with Mr. Snippens.
He really was a good kitty. As long as he was kept well fed.
r/StaceyOutThere
| 2019-11-21T07:23:21 | 2019-11-21T06:19:35 | 2,256 | 1,124 |
[WP] Death has hourglasses for every person. One day, during a cleaning, he found a dust covered one that had rolled under his desk.
|
*No.* Death thought. *It couldn't be.*
Death reached below the grand wooden table, hastily pulling out the dust covered hourglass. Questions flooded its mind. *How? When? Who?*
Carefully, Death set the hourglass sideways on its table, like the way it found it, the only one among the seven billion or so hourglasses in Death's office in such position. Death sank slowly into its black leather chair, its hollow eye sockets fixed on the hourglass.
No one escapes Death. That was what everyone said. Looking at the construct on the table, someone just did. Not knowing when or why bothered Death greatly.
When each human is born, an hourglass appears in Death's office. While each hourglass looked the same, the amount of sand inside them was not. The amount of sand signalled the lifespan of the owner. When the sand stops flowing, Death is summoned. The hourglass disappears once Death finishes its job.
Since time immemorial, Death has done its job without lapses. It does not question why. Death has always accepted its role. Looking at the stopped sand caused Death to question for the first time.
*Who is this human who escaped death?*
*How did the hourglass end up at the bottom of the table?*
*What should Death do?*
Death considered its options. It could report the lapse to its master. After all, Death is only a servant of a higher being. At least, that was what Death remembered. The memory was vague and hazy. It has been doing its job for eons alone without the need to contact the master. Never had there been any mistakes or incidents worth mentioning. The sideway hourglass was first.
Death shook its head. It cast a look at the door at the end of its office, rising thousands of meters above. The door to its master. Death could not recall the last time the door was used. Death preferred for things to stay that way. Death wanted to go back to its routine.
A bony hand reached from the flowing black robe, the white fingers wrapped themselves around the hourglass. Death let out a sigh, muttered an apology in its mind for the human who was about to lose his/her immortality, and flipped the hourglass upright.
The sand did not fall. They stayed in their position.
*What?*
Death was annoyed. It took the hourglass with both its hands and shook it. It turned the hourglass upside down several times. Still, the sand did not flow, while the sand in billions of others continued to fall.
*Who is this human entitled to immortality?*
Death let out a frustrated grunt. It wanted to throw the hourglass at the wall. How can Death be defied? It decided that it needed to seek out its master. Death grabbed the defective hourglass and started the long march towards the giant door. It needed an answer.
Just when it was about to leave its desk, however, a voice shook Death's office. Death recognised it instantly. The voice of the master.
**DON'T BOTHER.** The voice commanded.
**THE HOURGLASS IS YOURS.**
-------
*/r/dori_tales*
|
"And I wouldn't be standing here, speaking to all of you today if I didn't change my mindset" said the world's hottest new motivational speaker. "I've had too many near death experiences to count, but it made me realize life is precious. Time is finite, and it can't be wasted with regrets or what-if questions. Follow that instinct that nudges you to your dreams, even if you think it's impossible. If something frightens you because you don't think you can do it... I challenge you to get an answer."
The audience roars with applause.
"Thank you, thank you! I'll be in Hall G in 15 minutes for the Q&A"
The motivational speaker steps down from the podium and heads into the back stage. He looks in a mirror in the hall on the way to his dressing room. "You fucking killed it" he says to himself.
"Yes... yes you did." an ominous voice declares from behind him.
"Ah, thanks man." The motivational speaker turns around to see who delivered the compliment... and it's Death himself shrouded in a black fog.
"Oh my god.... that's a sick halloween costume, bud."
"It's not a costume. I'm Death."
"Oh, you want one of the production assistants to get you some coffee?"
"No, I am literally Death; and your time is overdue."
​
The motivational speaker's face droops with the realization that he's not joking.
​
"But... see it's a funny story" Death says as he takes an hourglass out of his tote bag. He brushes the remaining dust off of it. "This guy right here has been hiding under my desk this entire time. You were actually supposed to die back in '91 that time your DD drank too much and lied to you about it. You were going to fly out of the windshield because you didn't have your seat belt on and I would'e scraped you off of the concrete. But my 'alarm' didn't go off about it."
​
The motivational speaker is on the verge of tears.
​
"Paul... Paul lied to me? He was intoxicated?"
"Yeah. People suck. But since I didn't see the hourglass, you got to live another day up to now where you have this atrocious three piece suit on."
They both stand in an awkward silence.
"But... yeah, I gotta take you back to the processing office" as Death points up to the sky. "Great speech, though, seriously. Makes me wish I could be alive to feel something ha ha."
The motivational speaker doesn't find the humor in his statement.
Death clears his throat. "Sorry. But chop chop. Sorry to disappoint your fans."
Death touches the speaker, and he evaporates into dust, and a beam of light abducts his soul and shoots him up into the sky.
"Mental note: keep a dark matter Swiffer in the office at all times."
| 2018-10-03T06:52:49 | 2018-10-03T06:19:01 | 2,861 | 63 |
[WP] When you die, you are given the chance to flip a coin. If you call the toss correctly, you are allowed to keep living, while resetting to the age of your choice. You've been doing this for a couple centuries now. Death is starting to get pretty pissed.
|
"Just pick another fucking age!" Death said, snarling as he looked at Bobby.
"No, I get to pick, and I pick my 16th birthday."
Death screamed and punched the little shit in his head, and Bobby disappeared. All death had to do was touch his forehead, but he was way to angry for that. He waited for a few minutes, and as it started to rain a light appeared in front of him. Death held out his hand and flipped the coin. He stopped putting it away 4 centuries ago. It spun in the air, and death didn't even look at it when he grabbed it in his hand. "Tails again?" Death sighed as he knew what the kid was going to say next.
"Yep, tails just like what I was getting."
Death looked down, and saw it was tails. It always was. The kid was saying when he wanted to go to, and Death punched him again. As he was waiting for the kid, he started flipping the coin as he had so many times. Tails, heads, heads, heads, tails, heads, tail. It was an ordinary coin, not double sided or rigged or anything. He saw the light, and looked at the kid appearing again.
"If you don't accept the blowjob, you can make it past your sixteenth birthday. Then Christine's boyfriend wont shoot you."
"I don't care about that."
"You don't even finish! You haven't once! You have tried a hundred and thirty million times, and you haven't even cum yet! If you refuse the blowjob, then you could cum another time! JUST FUCKING SAY NO!!!!" Death yelled at Bobby, the force of his lungs sending Bob flying back.
Bobby got back up and came over to death. "To my sixteenth birthday please."
"NO YOU FUCKING RETARD!"
"Do I have to go talk to Jesus again?"
Death growled, knowing that if he didn't send him back he would have to send him to Jesus for judgement, and then he would get in trouble. He screamed out in anger, and punched Bobby in the chest so hard he flew back a couple miles. With a raise of his staff, Bobby appeared in front of him, and he sent Bobby back, then started waiting again, the heat of his anger and the rain causing him to literally steam.
|
The solid gold coin flew through the air, slowly arcing as I watched it tentatively. It collided with the ground, making a solid thunk. Slowly, I walked over to it and looked down to see which face was looking back at me. It was heads. The skulls eyes stared back into mine, I could almost feel hatred radiating from it. I looked up at my competitor and stepped back without touching the coin. He stepped forwards, looked down at the coin, somehow clucked his tongue and looked at me.
"You win. Again." He said in that deep, booming voice he's had since the day we first met all those years ago. I smiled at him, stepped forward and offered him my hand.
"Good show as always." We shook hands, his bony hand was cold in my fleshy mitt.
"Next time, you die. For good." Death stared at me. The sockets where his eyes should have been were pitch black, but I swear I could see a faint glint from inside. A wide grin spread across my face.
"I don't think so friend," I said cheerfully. "I think I'll keep on winning and you'll keep on losing. Every couple of years we'll meet back here, we'll flip the very same coin that rests at our feet and the outcome will always be the same. I'll walk outta here safely and you'll go back to reaping your crop." Death stared me dead in the eyes. I could see the fury hidden in there.
"Goodbye, Carter. Please don't show up here again for at least another 80 years." His voice didn't sound anywhere near as boomy and loud as it had previously. He sounded defeated.
"I'll try not to. Goodbye, friend." I patted him on the shoulder and walked out of the endless white void that was Death's Realm. I awoke in the mortuary freezer, stalactites hung from the ceiling. I sat up, swung my legs down over the gurney I lay on and heard a loud thunk. I looked down and at my feet was the gold coin I'd flipped only moments ago with Death. I laughed, picked up the coin and walked out of the freezer to find my pants.
-
If you enjoyed this read my other writings. /r/Ceruberus
| 2016-09-23T10:49:59 | 2016-09-23T06:57:22 | 232 | 132 |
[WP] “I wish that everyone on Earth would blink at the same time!” The genie gives you a pitied expression, snapped his fingers and says, “You have no idea what you just done…”
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I opened my eyes and there was nothing but the genie.
"What? Where am I?" I asked, wondering if I had hallucinated.
"The void, null space, whatever you want to call it. Nothingness." The genie replied matter-of-factly.
"Why? How? I need to go back!"
"Back where?" The genie laughed, "there is no place for you to go back to."
I stared at him in confusion. He gave me a condescending smile, having fully expected my cluelessness.
"How much do you know about quantum mechanics?" He asked.
"The Schrodinger's cat stuff? I'd read about it in books, but I'm not an expert. How does it relate to this?"
"Well you see, just like your world had it's scientific laws and rules, so does the world of magic. They are quite similar to each other, actually, almost like one was parodied off of the other. We don't know which one would count as the 'original' though.
"Quantum mechanics, in layman's terms, more or less states that a particles position is undetermined until it interacts with an observer, the same is true in magic. However, where quantum mechanics applies to the micro world with observers being any kind of measurement, in magic, this principle applies to all things, with observers being living souls.
"You made every living soul on Earth blind for a split second. There were no more observers, and so, like a quantum probability wave, the Earth was dispersed." The genie finished, and gave me a look of pity before turning away, giving me space to contemplate what I had just heard.
"Oh no." Was all I could say, my knees growing weak.
"You are still held together because even without eyes, you observe yourself." The genie continued, "eventually, some alien civilization looking at where the Earth was will observe it again, and the Earth with all its living souls will reappear in a new place. No telling where that will be, though.
"Good luck..." Was the last thing I heard before the genie faded away, and I was alone in the nothingness.
|
I made the worst wish I could possibly make. I didn’t know it at the time but I found out when I got home and saw the news. People all throughout the world just disappeared. They said an entire neighborhood in New York City just vanished without a trace. I began to worry that it had something with my wish but that would be ridiculous. All I wished for was the whole world to blink at the same time, how could that cause this. Then I remember the genie’s words.
“You have no idea what you just done.”
After I opened my eyes and saw nothing changed I thought he was just messing with me. The more I think about it though the more that nagging feeling that I caused this sinks in. Then a couple days after I met someone who confirmed it. I was walking down the sidewalk, seeing the memorials people placed for their loved ones who disappeared, when I saw a blonde woman in a trenchcoat step out of what looked like an old police phone booth. Didn’t know those were still in use. She took one look at me and practically ran at me, got right in my face and asked me.
“What on Earth did you do?”
Looking confused all I could ask was, “What?”
“Something you did made all of humanity become vulnerable to a swarm of Weeping Angels and I need to know what.”
“What the hell is a Weeping Angel?”
“That’s it you’re coming with me.”
She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the phone booth. At first I was angry this crazy woman just grabbed me on a public street but what I saw stunned me. A massive room full of futuristic technology and crystal pillars. She went to the feature in the middle of the room and flipping switches and asked me again what happened. Convinced something even more messed up than finding a genie was going on, I told her everything.
“Right guess we’re going genie hunting.”
She throws one more switch and the whole thing jumps. I had no idea what was really going on, but I could tell it was going to be interesting.
| 2022-03-18T14:48:16 | 2022-03-18T09:23:27 | 20 | 12 |
[WP] The first manned interstellar exploration vessel arrives in Alpha Centauri after decades of travel... only to discover that faster-than-light travel was discovered since they left and there is a welcoming party waiting to take them home.
I was going to add "There is much frustration" or "The crew of the former questions what they've spent most of their life doing", but on second thought I'll leave the tone up to whoever decides to give this idea a go.
|
"Felicia?" The man tapped again on thick plastic encasing surrounding her. "Felicia, can you hear me?"
"Ugh... what... where are we?" the tall, raven-haired woman replied, her eyes refusing to open, her body still unable to move.
"We're at Alpha Centauri, Felicia. You made it," the raspy voice replied. Felicia paused for a minute and, with all her might, slowly lifted her eyelids. She found herself in exactly the same place as before -- in her experimental cryochamber pod. But it wasn't cold. She wasn't surrounded by cryofluid. She had survived.
One thing was different though -- the man staring at her. She recognized his blue eyes, but not his face filled with wrinkles and his shaky hands. He no longer had a handsome head of hair on his head. Time had done its work to her now-old friend.
"My God, Jon," she blurted out, "time really kicked you in the nuts." Jon couldn't help but smile. "How many survived?"
"Just you and Alex," he replied. "We lost all the others in an accident ten years ago." There was silence for what felt like hours before Jon spoke again. "You should be able to get up by now Felicia. I want to show you something." Jon, the man in charge of safekeeping the cryosleepers, grabbed Felicia's arms and helped lift her to a sitting position. After a few minutes, she was able to stand.
"Wow, can't believe these things still work after 40 years," Felicia exclaimed before the two walked out the cryochamber room and into the front deck, where Felicia was left speechless by the breathless view. It was Alpha Centauri -- all three of its stars -- dancing in the middle of space. She had never seen anything like it.
"It's... it's beautiful," she was barley able to mutter.
"I agree, Felicia," spoke another man, this voice deeper. Felicia jumped before realizing it was Alex, her commanding officer and the only other survivor of the journey.
----------------------
The sound of a siren's blare burst through Felicia's cabin. Her long, raven hair, now a tangled mess, crumpled around her head as she bolted up from her bed. Jon's voice quickly echoed through her cabin over the loudspeaker.
"Alex, Felicia, I need you two at the main deck immediately! Don't bother to change -- just get up here," he managed to stammer. Felicia knocked over a garbage can as she raced out of her steel-encased room and bolted through the long corridor of her ship, Aphon Nova, to the main deck. She could hear footsteps behind her; Alex wasn't far behind.
"What's going on?!" Felicia breathlessly said as she bolted into the room so quickly that she had to grab a metal beam to stop herself from falling.
"Look," Jon simply said as his shaky hands pointed upwards, towards the windows. The three dancing stars were now blocked out by three metallic ships. But they were nothing like she had ever seen before. Unlike the Aphon Nova, which was long and thin, these ships were bulging from the sides. And they were massive. While Aphon Nova could support a crew of 17, these ships had to be at least 100x larger. She couldn't completely tell -- it was difficult to assess how far away the three ships were as they hovered in front of them.
"I've been trying to communicate with them, but we lost most of our communications equipment two decades ago," Jon said.
"I don't think... that's going to be... a problem..." Alex quietly uttered as he pointed to the side of the center ship. "Look."
"No fucking way!" Felicia screamed. It was the stars and stripes. It was the American Flag. "No fuck no. It can't be." Felicia could barely keep her eyes open. The salty water building up in her eyes was just too much.
"There's someone at the airlock," Jon said. He switched the big screen in the front deck to the outside camera at the ship's main airlock. Sure enough, there was somebody in a spacesuit tapping on the airlock's door. In fact, there was seven. None of them could make out their faces, but Jon, Alex and Felicia already knew. They were human.
---------------------
"Thank ya kindly for letting us in," the first astronaut declared with a Texas twang. "I'm Castor. Castor Way," he declared, extending his arm to greet the remaining crew of Aphon Nova. Alex, still bewildered, lifted his arm and shook Castor's hand.
"Can... can you..."
"Why of course, you must be wondering why we're here," Castor quickly responded. "We're here to welcome you to Alpha Centauri! You see, two decades after you left, American and Japanese scientists figured out a way to bend spacetime. 10 years after that, we got the first FTL ships."
"FTL?" Felicia asked as she tried to process what was happening.
"Faster-than-light. Our new ships can make the trip to Alpha Centauri and back in less than a day."
"Wait a second!" Felicia roared. "You're saying that you guys invented FTL and didn't immediately come after us? You're saying that you guys were just waiting for us to arrive, letting Jon grow old and the rest of us die? What the hell is wrong with you people?!" Alex, sensing bubbling frustration in Felicia, had to wrap her arms around the tall woman to keep her restrained. Castor and his team could see this as well.
"Not exactly," Castor quickly replied with both arms in the air, pushing back and forth as if he had the power to contain her anger. "You see, we're also refugees of Earth. Because Earth is no more. The U.S. fought a war with China and Russian over FTL, and now the entire planet is a smoldering pile of ash. We came to get you guys before the Chinese figured out your flight plan."
"But why?!" Felicia yelled, her eyes barely able to open.
"Because you guys and this ship are the only things that can help us win the war."
|
Meric woke up and fell.
He landed almost face first, only being caught by his arm flailing out in front of him, breaking his fall. He lay on the ground, its heat seeping into his cold body. He turned on his back and looked at the cryo sleep machine. Cold air emitted from the chamber, the screen on top blinked bright red, reading "Destination reached. Occupant awake"
Meric could slowly feel his limbs coming to life. They had warned him that coming out of cryo sleep was an...interesting feeling. You're brain woke up but it would take your limbs time to wake up individually. His arms seemed to have moved on pure reflex because now they refused to budge, his legs were the same. Heat tendrils started to snake their way through his veins and soon he was standing, stretching out muscles that had been frozen just moment ago.
Meric looked around the room, the other Cryo Chambers were open, the other 7 must of been woken up earlier and already on the bridge. He walked quickly to the bridge, his hand dragging on the metal wall.
Meric walked in and there they were. Everyone was talking and joking around. They turned at the sound of the door opening and smiled.
"Sleepy head Meric, early to bed, last one to wake up, as usual" yelled Jonas from his station. Meric smiled shrugged "was dreaming about your sister Jonas, kept me nice and cozy." Jonas grinned, flipped him off and returned his attention to his station. Everyone else said their greetings and Cortland told Meric to hurry up. Meric slipped into his chair and turned towards the station. Everyone entered their password and the system awoke.
"Entering Alpha Centauri system. Travel time, 78 earth years, 6 months, 14 days. Hello gentlemen. Time to work."
The information caused the crew to fall into silence. They were all aware of the consequences of taking this mission. There would be no one left for them when they got back. Everyone they had ever known would be dead. Everything would be different when they got back, but they had taken the job any way, with all its sacrifices, for the good of humanity.
It still hurt though. Their family's would be dead or elderly, having forgotten about them long ago. Here they sat, the same as they were 78 years ago. The only ones unchanged through time.
Thomas looked over to Meric "seems unreal doesn't it?" Meric nodded sadly. Cortland stood, the leader of the mission spoke with iron in his voice. "Get your heads right men, we have a mission to accomplish. Alpha Centauri has a few Earth like planets we have to explore. If we are successful, we will begin the first few steps to Galactic Colonization. We will be put down in the history books as the first who took that step, who made that sacrifice for the greater good. Lets get it done"
No sooner had Cortland finished his speech the Jonas yelled out in surprise "What the fuck is that?!?" Cortland turned to Jonas "Bring it up on the main screen"
The screen filled with a 3D map around them. Lights on the map represented objects around them with their green light in the center. A large yellow light, marking it as unknown entity, was moving towards them at a fast pace. "Anyone have any idea of what the fuck that is" shouted Cortland.
Everyone was glued to their monitors immediately, but the system had no idea what it was. "It'll be on us in 5 minutes sir, what are your orders?!?" Cortland didn't speak, and everyone knew why. They had no weapons, why would they need them? He chewed his lower lip then finally turned to Thomas. "Aim the mining laser towards the object and prime it, its our only option" Thomas nodded and the ship soon turned towards to Unknown Entity. Meric was shaking. Had they come this far only to be destroyed by some alien race?
The radio crackled. "Hello? Men of the Apollo can you hear me?" Cortland grabbed the radio off his station. "This is Andrew Cortland, Captain of the Apollo, Who the hell is this?"
The voice on the radio laughed with excitement. "This is Captain Bill Root of the Infinity, we are here to welcome you to Alpha Centauri!"
The room was silent. No one moved, no one even looked at each other. Meric looked at Cortland. This couldn't be happening, this must be a dream. Cortland brought radio back up to his mouth "Were you sent before us? Pardon me sir but we thought the Apollo was the only ship sent to Alpha Centauri."
"You were" responded Root. "Until we discovered faster-than-light travel 40 years ago. We've already come to Aplha Centauri, explored the planets and are sending our first colonizer class ship after having done some terrain modification on one of the planets. We knew you would be here any day now. Your mission is null and void, we're task to take you and your aboard Captain Cortland." There was a pause "We're ready to board and welcome you on whenever you're ready. Captain? Hello?"
There was no one to answer. Cortland had dropped the radio and walked away. He walked all they way to the back of the room and left. The room was full of shocked silence.
"What the fuck" whispered Jonas. Then his voice grew into a yell. "WHAT THE FUCK MAN. WHAT IS THIS. I...I.." and then Jonas fell to the ground and moaned. He was a catalyst to the other men. Some cried. Others sat in stunned silence. Thomas just mumbled about what was it all for.
Meric walked over to the radio. Root was still asking for Cortland until Meric brought the radio to his lips. "Where are you taking us?" Root paused "Who is this?" Meric thumbed the talk button again "This is Private Meric where are you taking us?"
Root seemed aboslutly pleased with the news "Well home of course. You men are coming home with full honors."
Meric paused. Finally he brought the radio to his lips "what home?" he asked and started to cry.
| 2022-05-17T17:34:13 | 2014-06-19T08:07:58 | 23 | 14 |
[WP] It is the year 2150. Describe an arms manufacturers latest weapons platform to a prospective buyer and compare its specs to your competitors.
|
"... which can deliver a multi-megaton explosion to any point on the globe within a few brief moments" I finished up my presentation with a flourish.
"I have a few questions" A wiry man in the audience raised his hand.
This was not in the program, but I was feeling pretty good about my performance so I allowed it. "Shoot." (I always liked using that in my line of work)
"Your product the..." he quickly referenced his datapad, "Orbital Death Dealer", he rolled his eyes, "costs nearly a million dollars a shot. How can you justify that when your competitors product costs hardly $20,000 with a similar output?"
"What competitor are you referring to?" I asked.
"WarCorp07's 'Smite' program" he said smugly.
I nodded. I had heard of them before. I ran a quick search on them and fed the data to the O.D.D.
"I don't believe that their product is available any longer." the windows rattled noisily as the shock wave passed by.
|
Gentlemen, today we have an opportunity to show you the future of weaponry. Ever since the global atmospheric crisis which fundamentally changed the environmental landscape, of course causing floods, storms, etc. Mankind has fought not only for the few resources which remain, but also dominance over territory which remained fertile and with a minimal amount of background radiation. Yes, the old world crumbled, and with it the tools and even most the technology of the past. Our mad scramble for survival has left us without even the most basic ideas of how the last generations managed to create the wonders which enriched their lives, but also ended their way living.
For the last few generations weapons manufacture has consisted, primarily, of “throw-stones” and “point-sticks”. While these weapons have proven effective, they were none the less rudimentary at best. Today, I hope to show you a tool that will make those weapons obsolete. I would like to introduce you to a new tool that will be a game changer for humanity. We call it the “Sword”.
| 2014-10-30T11:21:07 | 2014-10-30T09:15:40 | 20 | 14 |
[WP] During a flight you accidentally damage a window and find out that they aren't actually windows, but monitors.
|
"Sir, calm down. It's alright, everything's going to be alright. Please, calm *down.*"
The stewardess is growing increasingly flustered, trying her best to push the agitated man back into his seat. The passenger has a maniacal gleam in his eye as he once again stands up despite her attempts.
"Do you see? Do you see what's happening?"
He bellows to the people around him. They had looked bored, gazing blankly into screens or out the windows, clearly just waiting for the trip to end. Now here was a chance for some in-flight entertainment. A man stands up but wavers - he's not sure whether the attendant needs his help or not.
"Look!"
Folding his thick fingers into a fist, the man smashes it against one of the windows. One of the other passengers gasp in horror as the stewardess ineffectually pulls him back down. There's a hairline crack in the window now, and a slow line of blood is dripping out of his hand. Uncaring, the man slams it into the window again.
And the window flickers. The outside distorts, warps and fades. Mutterings in the audience grow louder even as the man calms.
"What's going on here, then!"
"What is this?"
"Where are we? I want to see the pilot!"
The stewardess is white now, hand lifted over her mouth in horror. The man besides her sits, begins to talk nonchalantly.
"I saw it when I was looking out, you know. There was a grey bit at the corner there." He nodded towards the now dead screen. "Thought it was dust. I tried to rub it off, tapped my fingers on the screen. But it got larger. And then I knew."
"What are you hiding from us, hmmm?" His face twists into a snarl. "What's out there?"
"Right. I've had enough of this." A businessman, red-faced and angry, strides straight over to the pilot's cabin. Grabbing the heavy fire extinguisher, he heaves it up, then starts hammering at the door to no avail.
He turns to the side door. Once, twice, thrice. A noticeable dent appears.
"No... Sir, please, stop..." The stewardess pleads, her voice reedy under the strain. "Please!"
With a grunt, the man smashes a hole through.
And the water gushes in.
|
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He always had a problem with perspiration, it reminded him of Maths exams. Even in the climate controlled plane, he couldn't help but sweat. The shock of what he had just done made him feel like he was sitting in an oven. He had done it dozens of times, he was bored and was trying to put things in the little hole in the window to pass the hours. This time however, the window gave way to the scratching of his pen cap.
His first panicked thought was that he had doomed them all. The scene from final destination kept running through his head. A small sized hole would gradually grow larger and larger till it ripped him and his seat out of the plane. Panicking he began stuffing some tissue paper into the small crack; but all his efforts only seemed to make things worse. "This is it" he thought to himself. "This is how I die"
But something curious happened, instead of a whoosh of air, he felt no change. The other passengers didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong, there were no warning sounds blaring over the intercom. He sighed a breath of relief and thought how silly he was. Surely he should have known that that plane would be designed so that such accidents wouldn't end up killing everyone. "How silly of me".
However, before he had time to fully recompose himself he noticed that there was a bright glowing light coming from behind the crack. It was around dawn and the plane was starting to come into view of the sun, but this light was different. It was of a different material than the light around it. His curiosity was piqued. Slowly he began chipping away further, and the more progress he made, the more it became clear that something wasn't right. It felt like tearing a hole through a sheet of fabric, the clouds and the faint glow of the sun which had seemed so real and romantic before, looked more and more like some cheap painting layered on the window to stop people from seeing what was outside.
Once he had a hole a bit larger than a quarter he adjusted himself in his seat to take a peek into the source of the light. He started sweating again. He saw an auditorium filled with what looked like students, pen and paper in hand, jotting notes. He could not see what they were looking at, but it seemed to him as if they were looking right behind the plane.
| 2015-02-05T06:35:18 | 2015-02-05T05:37:27 | 1,538 | 101 |
[WP]In the near future both the U.S. and Russia have new presidents, both of whom happen to be alcoholics. On a state visit at the White House they start taking shots of vodka one evening, and just for laughs decide to pass the time by planning a joint invasion of a random country.
|
"Right, right, I know we can't *reaaaaally* do it... but hypoth- ... hypother- ... whaddif we just, like, went and fucked ISIS up?" Charles started, leaning back in his chair.
"Who says that we cannot?" Remizov replied, calmly emptying his glass.
"Yeah man, we could just... *UNFF.* You know?" Charles continued.
Remizov couldn't help but smile. Charles had only drunk half of what he had, but the man seemed barely conscious.
"Jus' between you and me, I have like... this *plan*, right?" Charles slurred.
"Do tell," said Remizov, politely opening another bottle.
"Alrigh', it goes like this..."
Charles started snoring halfway through his story, and Remizov stared in awe at the notepad he had hastily ripped from his bag. Charles' idea was... genius. There was no other word for it. The American president may have made a few drunken errors because of his intoxication, but the plan he was trying to communicate was nothing short of absolute brilliance. He moved towards the door.
"Belinsky! Belinsky, you have to see this!"
The floor moved rapidly towards him. Remizov lifted himself up on one knee, still dazed.
"Belinksy!" he managed, before toppling over.
Belinksy rushed into the room, a panicked look in his eyes.
"Remizov? Remizov!"
Remizov coughed violently and slid a notepad over to him before collapsing to the floor.
Belinsky grabbed it and turned it over.
"Use taco robot in ISIS uniform to sneak into super secret base," he read, confused.
Remizov giggled and made raspberries at the cieling.
|
"How about... Denmark? No, wait, Switzerland! Those neutral bastards"
"And gain what from it Comrade? Lower cheese prices? Switzerland will never work!"
The clattering of a toast and pained exhalations followed shortly.
"Maybe... maybe Belgium? Wouldn't that be unexpected?"
"Remember what happened last time someone invaded Belgium?"
"Not really... wha-"
"Exactly."
Uproarious laughter, clinking, and another round of harsh exhales.
"Yaknow, I think we should throw a huge curveball to the world bud."
"What were you thinking?"
"Why don't we invade- now just hear me out- why don't we invade each others countries at the exact same time and act confused when there's no one there."
"THAT'S BRILLIANT! I'LL DRINK TA THAT!"
Suddenly, another voice, uncharacteristically sober given the atmosphere of the two in conversation, chimed in with "Uh, Mr. President, maybe we ought not subject our citizens to an invasion this shortly after the incidents in Paris."
"Ah, what do you know, besides, it might give some of our gun loving citizens a chance to practice their aim!"
"Hey now, I don't want my men actually getting shot at! Maybe this isn't a good plan... Why don't we declare war on the hole in the O-zone layer and invade Antarctica?"
"If I wanted to feel that cold an atmosphere I would take my wife to dinner."
"HAHAH A toast to that!"
Clink.
Edit: I guess I need to research more to avoid accidentally starting /r/askhistory threads about the rocky military history of Western Europe. Who knew?
| 2015-11-23T09:09:43 | 2015-11-23T07:15:10 | 404 | 173 |
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