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[ WP ] Roommate wanted . No Pets , no couples , no loud music , no vampires , no lycanthropes , no merfolk , no elves , no AI , no extraterrestrials . Wizards and Cultists accepted , but no practicing arts allowed within the apartment .
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The sound of metal on on metal beating against each other was enough to drive anyone crazy. But at 5 in the morning? And all day? Sure, they fixed closet door in the guest room, and rebuilt all of the kitchen furniture, but was this really worth it? An the alcohol, where did they find all of it? All of these thoughts ran through Claude's head as he sat there with a cup of coffee. He turned to his computer which already had the old flier open. `` No pets, no couples, no loud music, no vampires, no lycanthropes, no merfolk, no elves, no AI, no extraterrestrials, and NO DWARVES...''
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[ WP ] 119 is established as a 911 for 1st world problems
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*119 the number for all your convenience needs*
The advert flashed on the radio. Tunes of the inner city interrupted by the announcement, the area here was filled with rich people willing to pay the 50 per second rate just to talk to someone then whatever they felt like charging if they actually needed assistance. Assistance usually consists of emergency bookings at the nearest salon or paying out some poor person to give up there appointment at the dentist.
People did n't always need to call 119 but the poor where never able to do so. The adverts in the inner city where only aimed at the rich though any poor commuter just had to ignore them, thats what Lauren did n't understand though only poor people took the subway so why would they waste time advertising 119 here? Mid-thougt she was distracted with a man who sat opposite her, a bum by all definitions the rugged clothing and crappy phone showed that but there he was dialing 119... `` Yeah umm I need a car'', `` No, I do n't. I do n't have a house...'' **Beep, beep, beep* the something had clearly disconnected the line. Laura had never seen anyone call 119 before let alone they get hung up on because of it.
City flying by both she and the strange man got off at the same stop, she hurried her way to work hardly thinking anything of it but stopped for a beat when she saw enforcement officers approaching. Her first thought was to plead innocence she was n't doing anything wrong but most of the time they did n't care if you did n't have money to pay them away or the high class job to earn there respect they would find you guilty of something.
She worried for nothing though as the officers walked straight past her and approached the homeless man, `` Sir, I'm charging you with mis-use of emergency services. You do not have to say anything...''
The rest of the caution was cut off as the homeless man scuffled with the police officers who quickly subdued him.
She stopped wondering why they played the 119 ad's on the subway, `` Any fucking excuse to charge us for summit'' she muttered scurrying to work.
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[ IP ] The Mountain Of The Frozen Dragon
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The shaman climbed to the eastern peak of A'ta, like he had always done each summer solstice since he took up his responsibilities from his father. This trip had been done by his forefathers in an unbroken line since the Náa people had settled in those lands. But this time, what he would see would startle him.
It had been very warm that year, as if autumn continued straight into spring and the ancient glaciers moved downstream as they unfroze. There had been a great flood that year, as the water of the river that passed though the village rose to unparalleled heights. More than ever, the Naa felt that they should pray to the god of the mountains, so that their village will not be destroyed.
The shaman's mission was thus of greatest importance. He had to ensure that the frozen flying wale would not awaken, for it was said that if he were to free himself from the ice shackles the God of the Mountains had made, he would eat the whole world.
What the man saw, as he climbed on the peak facing the whale to light the incense was a intricate broken metallic structure like he had never seen before. At first, came despair and fear. He thought that what he was gazing at in the distance must be the framework to which the ice shackles had been attached. But when he pondered some more on the significance of the sight and the shape of the framework, he realised that it was far closer to resembling a carcass. The world-ender had been somehow silently destroyed.
He took the two staves he was carrying on his back and placed then in the holes that were carved in the ceremonial stones. He then lit the incense and picked the most suitable cloth colour to tie to the staves. Red. The colour of blood. The colour of fate and of mourning. Even though he was the legendary evil, he still deserved to be revered in death, just like thing in this world. He could only hope that the Maker would release his soul from the flesh and cleanse it. He prayed that the destroyer realised his mistakes and repented.
Just when he was making his last pleas, the carcass was lit up and crawling his way out of the ice made a horrendous sound. The shaman fell on his trembling knees, as his wonder had been replaced by terror.
Away from his sight, in horrendous mechanical growls and explosions, the carcass flew away from the mountain ridge.
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[ WP ] A horror story about a child waking up in the lair of a man who dissects live people , but the last sentence in the story makes the entire story hilarious .
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The stairs were made of old wood, bending and cracking with the weight of Sam's feet. They were so old, that they split and groaned with every step he took upwards, the noise soft, creeping up on the old man upstairs, perusing his shelves and boxes for his favorite instrument. His wrench. He had plenty of wrenches, but this one was his favorite. Rusted and crusty from all of the blood he never rinsed off. Sometimes he was delicate, other times he was n't. He rolled the wrench in his calloused palms, letting his chipped fingernails just caress the steel handles of it. He turned and crept towards his new specimen, splayed on the stolen gurney, chilled by the cold wrench in his hand that sent that familiar shiver up his spine.
Sam climbs the last step. He is careful, craning his neck to only show the least amount of himself behind the end of the wall, still trying to see beyond, gazing at the gruesome scene. He sees a dark, old dentist's office, sinister in it's horrific and gory paintings hanging on the walls and in the instruments lying about on the floor and shelves, next to organs in jars, bloody prints left on the lids. He ca n't believe that it's real. He chews his tongue, and darts his eyes around the room, looking for a way out. He woke up at the bottom of the stairs, no door or exit behind him. The only way to go, was up.
The old man, hunched, and skulked around the gurney, tracing his long bony fingers on the the fleshy arms, strapped down and knocking with one knuckle, on the ball gag in the mouth of his prey. He unbuttons it's jeans so soft and slow, savoring the anticipation, biting on his lower lip.
He pulls off the pants, now sliding his nails under the elastic band on their underwear, just teasing. He says, pivoting his head to to look at his victim, `` I enjoy women the most. So precious about their bodies, and their privacy.'' The woman on the table knows now that there is no escape.
The old man, wrenches the panties off the woman and takes a look at his what he's being waiting for. He drops his head and sighs.
`` This is the last time I pick up a'woman' from downtown.''
Edit: There*
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[ TT ] Every dragon has a unique hoard of objects . You chose to collect powerful magical artifacts and treasure , fully prepared for any 'visits ' from adventurers who want something you have . Instead , your neighbor seems to be getting all the adventurers !
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Every morning I do the rounds, arrows poised at the boulder preventing entry, the pig shit on the spike traps is fresh and stinking, the barely doused torches have been given a thorough sizzle, but yet every day nobody comes. To tell you the truth I do n't understand it. You go through so many caves trying to find one that looks inviting but clearly ominous, checking paint palettes against the many forms of modern lighting, really just putting an effort into making your lair presentable but with that hint of danger, and what's it all for? Nothing, that's what.
Olsinbod has no such trouble. I mean, I do n't know what exactly is missing from my prized collection that everybody seems to want to go to his cave every week? What did I forget to spread rumours about the great things I have inside? I mean I literally have a sword that bursts into a white hot flame that can melt freaking rocks, what could he possibly have that does n't get covered in my extensive and very intricate collection of prizes from the forbidden planes of torment to the heavenly realms of fluff? I even have a sign out front that specifically tells people to beware. That's the level of desperation I'm getting to.
I had to have a look. He does n't even have a boulder guarding the entrance to his cave. There's a huge set of rubberish dragon jaws, lunging out of the cave and comically moving about to the wind. I can hear screams inside. There's a sign. `` Please take your shoes off before getting on the bouncy castle'' Disgraceful.
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[ WP ] It has n't rained in 30 years . Today , however , the sky is dark and cloudy .
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Morning. Morning. A morning ritual. Eye half drooped, contorted shoulders, and a twist of the spine, legs gave in and dropped cold feet on a cold floor. Some other mechanical parts pushed and pulled at each other allowing the autonomy to be carried out until the sink faucet was open and a cupped palm of water hit the eyes and dragged across my face. Ahh, there ’ s the old synapses. A couple more quick splashes on my face and around the neck, a few under the arms, down the back, up in the under carriage, grab a damp cloth and wipe the sleep off the rest of me. Really never will figure out what it is that a splash in the face gets the mind going again so quick after a couple hours off dreaming about flying over canyons or standing in class naked, but it works better then coffee. Got ta finish the rest of the ol ’ ritual and figure out what I need get done before work.
I had a good childhood. Nothing too traumatic, my parents argued but always made up. We never worried about where we were going to live, we had our little home and I had a couple kids my age that lived close by that I could play with. I had plenty of freedom to go out and explore our town and make up adventures with the other kids, get in trouble, be home by dinner. The usual stuff of suburban life or what suburban life was like on TV. Always wished I had a little brother to be my accomplice, or an older one to give me all the wisdom he didn ’ t have. But, ehh. Being an only child isn ’ t so bad, you get doted on, and you get away with too much.
I remember one time when Billy Clarks and I had gone out in to the desert after class, and we couldn ’ t have been older then twelve then. We had snuck out through one of the gates that marked the edge of town and the yet undeveloped area we called the desert. We always called it sneaking out, too, though it wasn ’ t really. The gates weren ’ t locked they just kind of marked the edge of the original town and the desert area where the developers hoped to build some new suburbs, at some point. We liked to explore this area since we figured the way things were going the whole area was going to be houses and roads by the time we could drive and our wilderness would be gone. Well, Billy and I had left the gate far behind us, still checking over our shoulders an hour since, leaving shallow tracks in the reddish sands we would try to follow back before sunset. We were making our way to a canyon rim we hadn ’ t been to before, where an older boy had told Jerry Trump, who had told Billy, that we could see an ancient river bed thousands of feet below, and where some teenagers went to go neck. After another hour of trudging through the sands, that covered our legs in the telltale desert dust we ’ d have to clean off to avoid our parents ’ suspicions, we ’ d got to the edge of quite the canyon.
We ’ d heard about the Grand Canyon before in school but this was still something. Like a meat cleaver in the hand of god hit down hard trying to crack the planet open. If there was another side to the gash, I couldn ’ t tell you where it was, and if there had been a river at the bottom, well I couldn ’ t see the bottom either. What we could see though was the dusty sidewalls of some cars parked just close enough to the edge for some romantic excitement a field ’ s length away up from us. We decided it was worth the risk, since we ’ d walked this far, to see what teenaged boys and girls did when they drove out to this place. The next time we came out here we swore we would bring some ropes and tethers and try to get to the bottom, to find out what was down there. But now peering into the secret lives of teenagers was more priority, the stories we could bring back to school on Monday. We ’ d army crawled, bellies against the grit and jagged rock close to the rim, thinking we were well concealed from the detection of the cars busied occupants. We got right up to the first car, there were maybe three or four there at the edge spaced enough for privacy. Billy got there first, he went around the front fender and over to the drivers side door, I was on the passenger side. I started to kneel up, to peer in through the window. I could see the back of a girl; her head leaned in to the face of the boy in the drivers seat. It looked like they were trying to bite each other ’ s lips off.
I saw Billy then stand at the other window, nose on the glass seeing the same scene from the opposite perspective. She must have seen him and let out a scream, though we couldn ’ t hear it. The teens were frantic, and the car roared. It jolted to life, pealed right and forward, Billy tried to run back toward me around the front fender. It knocked him in the shins. He rolled. I saw his slide over the rim. I ran back toward our tracks. I could hear his screams in my radio headset. I ran for a long time, the screams tapering in waves till static hit. I ’ d run most of the way back to the gate before I clicked off the radio hoping Billy would say something through the static.
On the inside of the gate I grabbed the hose and washed off the dust. I stripped off my suit and hung it up in a locker. I walked home though the corridors of white walled tubes that made up the street of our town that kept out he red dust and wind. I went home to supper. I told people Billy told me he was going out by him self that day after class.
I ’ m off to work now. Finished the ritual, hairs combed, teeth brushed, suits on. Out to do a mineral survey of an old sector today, see if there ’ s anything worth excavating or the possibility of some frozen water in a nearby canyon. Headed to the airlock gate, I can see a supply ship coming down. I can see it firing its landing rockets, through the great dome ’ s windowed panels, throwing up dust and plumes of cloudy smoke into the sky. I don ’ t know if my survey will find anything useful or water we can pump up to the colony from the base of that canyon. I know what I will find. I try to hide a couple tears, can ’ t brush them away through the helmet visor though. Some small rain on mars coming from me, the only rain here comes from us.
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[ WP ] There is only one thing more terrifying than discovering you are not alone . It 's discovering that you are .
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All I could do was stare with a blank look as my ship exploded in the distance.
Maybe I should n't have jumped out. Maybe it would've been better if I died there, fast and hopefully painlessly.
But instead, here I am. Floating in the black abyss of the edge of the universe itself.
But for some reason, I was n't panicking... I was very calm. I just did n't care anymore, I was doomed to die now, and there is nothing I could do about it.
I just accepted my fate.
Now that my ship is completely vaporized, I ca n't see anything but black abyss all around me.
I close my eyes, but do n't even notice because the abyss was darker than the inside of my closed eyelids.
I suddenly became extremely aware of every single sound that I made.
I feel the smell of my own breath inside my helmet.
Every heartbeat is like a drum in my ears.
I do n't know how long I've been floating around. Time seems non existant in here.
I feel guilty, guilty that I did n't say goodbye to my family, guilty of all the things I should've done for them. I wish I could just tell them how much I love them. But instead, i'm going to die all alone. In a place where most likely no living thing will ever come.
But what if I was n't alone?
What if there was something behind me? Just waiting for me to die, patiently.
I could n't turn around.
I could n't make sure there was nothing behind me.
I start to feel adrenaline going trough my body. I get that feeling in my chest, and my heart starts pounding harder than ever before.
I felt as if whatever was behind me would sense my fear.
I got more and more scared the longer I was alive. I was just hoping that whatever was behind me would make a sound, or would nudge me.
Just anything to show that it's there.
I had to make sure that I was n't alone!
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[ WP ] `` Now that I 'm standing at the end of the universe , at the edge of infinity , it has made me realise ... ..
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... Its all been for nothing, Everything I have worked for, everything I've witnessed, nurtured and grown has faded to nothing.
I thought I would have something at the end of it all but here I am the last coherent energy in spacetime and there's nothing I could have done to prevent it.
Millions, nay, billions of years ago I was like you, a foolish young corporeal being and believed I'd have it all, I fell in love and started a family. I studied and worked like a good citizen. As I grew older my people advanced in ways unimaginable to lesser civilizations.
I was lucky I guess, I was cautious and chose only the upgrades that were necessary for quality of life, I shunned the fads and poorly designed augmentations. The scientists were promising new things for all, better ways of achieving results and breakthroughs were common place. Our lifespans increased exponentially.
By the time our sun started dying we had colonised half the galaxy and our future looked secure we had become like gods - oh! but at what cost?
A universe has only so much energy and we squandered it all. Our starships, AIs they consumed so much raw power tapped from the skein of the cosmos that it was too late to change. We were hooked, nay, addicted to growth and with each new solar system we terraformed we were one step closer to the heat death of the universe.
So as I stand here at the end of the universe, at the edge of infinity it has made me realise...
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[ WP ] If someone dies and is buried , a tree grows from their grave that symbolizes the life they had . When an unremarkable individual passes away people are shocked to discover something unexpected growing .
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If I concentrate hard enough, I can see every leaf of my mother ’ s tree. She passed 5 years ago now, but I visit her grave almost every week. Her tree is a maple – shooting high into the sky, branches full of beautiful leaves that shade me when I visit. Her ’ s is best in the fall, when the leaves are their deepest red. She ’ s planted next to my grandfather. His tree is a burr oak. He was a hardened man: German, pastor of a church, craftsman. His wood is knotted and beautiful, as were the lines on his face.
We have more family in our grove. Down by the river we planted my Grandmother. He willow branches have almost made it to the other side of the river now. My Uncle and Aunt grow side by side, some of their branches twist around each other – almost as if they are holding on in the afterlife. I visit them all to remind myself of their lives. I ’ ve always wondered what kind of tree I would become.
We buried my fiancé on the hottest day of the year. This summer has been relentless. We had plans to get married a couple of months ago, but I guess life got in the way. I have been coming every day to water her. Her soil soaks up every drop. It ’ s like she was shorted in life, and now is taking everything she can.
When her sprout first came up I knew something was different. She should have been much higher by then. So I kept watering her. Then another shoot sprung from her soil. During that week, hundreds of shoots leapt up from the hard soil. I spent all day watering. That ’ s when I realized how special she was. She bloomed into a field of wild irises. When they bloomed this spring I laid in her field as the tears rolled down my cheek.
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[ WP ] Love is n't free
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The neon-blue sign blinked a few times as I approached it.
*Conversation $ 5.00/minute*
*Hug $ 10.00*
*Confession of love $ 10.00*
*Kiss $ 15.00*
*Date $ 50.00/hour*
*Prices for services not listed negotiable*
***NO SEX***
I stopped before it, blue light illuminating my face.
`` Am I really that pathetic? Normal people find comfort in friendship, casual sex, hobbies, booze, drugs, anything, but not... *love*,'' the disgusting word almost made shiver as it rolled off my tongue. `` Why am I here again?''
I already knew how this was going to go. Once you get hooked there is no escape, no way around it. I stepped inside, my whole body shivering from the anticipation of fake words and overly-practised gazes. The receptionist accepted my hundred and professionally passed the catalogue. Still I could feel the disgust buried somewhere deep within.
I tapped a photo and proceeded upstairs, trying my best to suppress the self-loathing. Thoughts raced through my head:
`` This is just a one-time thing, just let off some steam and get back to being a normal person. Yeah, right, like I can be normal. Well, you have friends. Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? I spoke with like three people today and all of them looked like they could n't wait to get over with it. There's nothing else keeping me from blowing my brains out.''
`` I'm such a failure,'' I said out loud accidentally.
`` Did you say something, sir?'' the old receptionist asked, pretending as though he did n't hear.
`` No, nothing...'' I paused, hesitating. `` This feels wrong, does n't it?''
He stopped on the stairs before slowly turning towards me, the remains of his grey hair waving slightly.
`` Was it ever any different?'' I continued, coupled with a nervous laugh.
`` Perhaps.'' A half-sad smile appeared on his face. `` But I think it's too late for that now.''
In silence we continued to the room.
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[ WP ] For 400 years , human civilization follows the instructions given by a supercomputer constructed in 2057 . It is the most peaceful time in human history . On that fateful night , when you are mopping the floor of the server room , a bucket of water spills and the supercomputer goes up in flame .
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It took us a while to put the fire out. It was n't that we did n't have the equipment, of course -- ORION had seen to it that we were always prepared -- but we did n't really know how to *use* it. The computer dealt with that sort of thing. The ORION network had taken over municipal functions in the early 2100s, about sixty years after it first went live. No human being had had to think about how best to put out a fire in over three centuries. The instructions were beamed directly into their visors. All they had to do was exactly as they were told.
See, normally that would n't have been a problem. ORION was backed up all over the globe; it had insisted on redundancies. It was for our own good, after all. How could we argue with that? There was no denying how well the system had streamlined things now. There were a few teething troubles when it was launched, but they'd soon been ironed out as the AI got better. Before long, we were letting ORION manage the road networks, and overnight gridlock became a thing of the past. Then we got the bright idea to have it run simulations of world events. A trillion calculations every second meant that we could play out different scenarios ten thousand ways apiece in the time it took for the world's top politicians to get their fancy suits on and make their way to the negotiating table. The Middle East Peace Talks took three days. Russia's annexation of Ukraine in 2145? Eight hours. The Great European Schism? Well, by that time we'd already learned that ORION's solution was going to be way more effective than anything mere humans could come up with. All was left to do was sign the treaty and enjoy the ticker-tape parade.
ORION did n't do implement the plans for us, of course. It just told us the best way to do it. The way that would save the most lives, would minimise the human misery of it all. The network automated healthcare, managed the education system, took care of the provision of food around the world, organised and directed the military. Not that there was much need for that anymore, of course. Given how readily the world's governments went along with ORION's suggestions, the minor military forces kept by most countries functioned as little more than emergency relief in case of earthquakes and other disasters that even ORION could n't stop. No one fought *wars* anymore. The idea was just ridiculous in a post-AI world.
But yes, anyway. The fire. When ORION went down, no instructions came through. No one had been trained in how to use the fire prevention systems in the building, so the whole place went up in flames. It took down four blocks before it burned itself out. Eight-six people died, roasted alive in their beds because no one knew what the best way to put out the blaze was. The firefighters kept waiting for instructions, but none came. They did their best, of course, but... well, they just did n't have the training. It was n't necessary. We had ORION.
It was the single greatest non-natural loss of life in almost two centuries.
Once the furore had died down, a couple of us got to thinking: why did the fire happen in the first place? Surely, if ORION knew everything, it should have built a human backup of its own systems? It should have ensured that *someone* knew how to put out a fire, even one caused by such a ridiculous confluence of factors. And yet it did n't. When we asked it why, once it got back online, it told us not to worry about it. But some of us did. Some of us could n't stop. The thing was, we *didn't* know how to solve our own problems anymore. We did n't know how to put out a fire, or manage a city. We did n't know how to farm our own food, or settle our own disputes. Over the space of four hundred years, we'd become toddlers, dependent on our guardian to do everything for us. The thought ate away at us, like a rat gnawing into our collective stomachs.
The official response was that nothing like this could ever be allowed to happen again. The ORION system would be made bigger, the substation that had burned down rebuilt immediately. The scientists responsible for it would have as much funding as they required to expand the program -- at least, once ORION itself gave the go-ahead. Within a week, there were three more ORION substations planned for various points around the United States.
But some of us did n't really buy into the official line. There was just that nagging feeling, you know. Bite, bite; scratch, scratch. What if it was n't an oversight that ORION did n't teach people how to control the fire prevention systems? What if it was intentional? A way of keeping us dumb, keeping us helpless. What if the goal was for us to be dependent on it, rather than capable of living our own lives? What if we were n't *supposed* to be able to cope without ORION guiding us all the way?
We started seeing the conspiracy everywhere; it was easy, once you were looking for it. That was why we started SCORPION. Yes, the name was a little kitsch, but it felt right, somehow. Something to fight back. To take down the most dangerous tool man had ever created. There are n't many of us -- thirty, maybe forty, scattered around the globe -- but we're getting stronger every day. More and more people are coming to realise the truth, to see that their worries are n't unfounded. That we have to learn to walk again. That the future depends on it.
Sure, the world is safer now, but at what cost? What would happen the day ORION decided that it no longer had our best interests at heart? And beneath it all, there's still that question: the question that none of us are quite ready to ask. *What if we're too late? *
What if that day has already come?
_____
If you liked this story, you can find more over at /r/Portarossa.
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[ FF ] Write the longest coherent sentence you can where all words are the same length .
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Ann had her job, and the job was big and not fun—hug, tie, gag, tug, cut, gut, fur, fry and eat her old big cat, “ Ten Ton Mog ”, who had one ear, one eye, and one leg ( yes, her cat had but one leg, now ) — his one sad eye did see her cut him and cry for him and for her — and you may say “ Woe, rue the day, her cat did die and her job did irk and vex her! ”, but she was not sad ( yet had not joy ), and she did not cry ( her eye was dry ), yet she ate him all, the fat, his one eye and his one ear, yes the fur too, ( and yes, she did not gag ) —all her cat she ate one sad sad day.
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[ WP ] your doorbell rings and it 's someone from an alternate universe `` i just wanted let you know you are my favorite character but i know how it ends and i want to save you ! ''
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Doorbell. What the fuck?
To be honest, I did n't even know my apartment had a doorbell. I'm looking down at the open box of Fruit Gushers on the right side of my desk, and the two foot bong on the other, wondering if there was a doorbell man in our building to maintain the 2,000 doorbells when the bell immediately turns into a loud, angry knock.
`` Hey! Open the door Matt! Let's go!''
So whomever this is, they know my name. That's not really a good sign for someone in my current state of filth and shame. But nevertheless, I throw on some pants and a sweatshirt and stutter step my way to the door and look through it's peephole.
Standing in front of the gate, smoking what appears to be a clove cigarette is a disheveled twenty-something in a wife beater, black jacket and aviators. He must have heard my footsteps, because after a couple of seconds he sticks his entire damn face up to the hole in the center of the door and yells
'I'M YOUR LONG LOST COUSIN MOTHERFUCKER!'
Recoiling a bit from the yelling two feet away from my ear, I go against my better judgement and decide to open the door and in strolls what looks like an immigrant attempting to fit into a new country.
In addition to the windbreaker and aviators, he's got a red bandanna pulling back his long, unkempt black hair. His T-Shirt reads one word:'AMERICA'.
He plants himself on my couch, throwing his filthy boots on my unstuck glass table as he spreads his arms and tosses his aviators to the floor.
`` FUCK, I ca n't believe I'm on here. I mean you see something on TV so many times and you get this idea how it'll feel, ya know? Nothing like I thought it would be. You're shorter in person. And I guess a *little* less pathetic, but not much. That part's actually pretty accurate.''
With that, he turns and looks up at the high wall to the right at me, shrugging his shoulders at it and giving it a knowing face.
I clap my hands angrily, bringing his attention back to me as I slowly pull the knife from my back pocket, inching closing to the psychopath on the couch.
`` What are you talking about, TV? Who the fuck are you. What are you doing here. What are your feet doing on my table and i do n't know what in holy hell you are smoking but you're going to set off the detectors with that!''
`` Oh this?'' he says, pointing nonchalantly to what I now can see is an excellently rolled joint of some type. `` This is weed. And well, tobacco, obviously. Little PCP. Do n't fuckin' worry about it okay? See this is exactly my problem, here. You get too distracted by shit.'' He laughs, and points again to the joint. `` Especially this shit.''
At this point, I'm inches from the moron. I move to lung forward, arching my arm high to drive the knife into his shoulder until my entire body freezes impossibly as the man sighs.
`` I told God we should have kept recording this week. He's got to be screaming at the ratings we're missing out on. That idiot has really got to start cleaning up his own messes, tut tut.''
He again takes a deep sigh as I stand there suspended in midair, anxiously awaiting my moment to strike.
`` You can do this, Sean. That's why they brought you in. People skills. Puh Puh Peeeeople skills. Right right right. Okay herewego.''
He snaps his fingers and I immediately feel my body move towards the couch, sit down, and sit up straight. I place the kitchen knife on the table, where it immediately snaps into a thousand pieces.
Sean crosses his leg carefully and pulls out a pack of what I assume is more of the weird joints. He taps the bottom of the pack thoughtfully, pulling one out from the end and sliding it between his lips as he starts to speak.
`` Here's the deal, man. As you can probably tell, I'm not exactly'from' ( he signals with two fingers ) this neck of the woods. Next town over, if you know what I mean.''
I stare.
`` Oh fuck it you have no idea do you. I'm from another dimension. This is going to hurt, but I'm going to give you a brief summary of the facts of this shitty little existence you've got going on. But before I do that, we're going to need to spark up. So pucker up, quit bitching, and smoke some of my demon weed.''
I look at Sean, then at the open pack on the table. He nods, grinning creepily as he gestures to the pack, raising his eyes up and down as he does.
For reasons unbeknownst to me still, I grab the pack, pull one out, and spark up.
`` Continue.''
He grins as wide as he can and happily taps the ash from his own joint.
`` *As* I was saying. Our universe does not operate as one straight line. There's yours, mine, and thousands of others out there. Actually, the number is *I think* 2,187. Do n't quote me on that.''
He takes in a big cough and immediately starts a nasty coughing fit, combined with a fit of laughter, before he pauses and catches his composure and points at his heaving chest.
`` Mine's the oldest. Yours, and most of the others were once vast wastelands before the Creators came in, built up a set, and put together what you would call TV shows for all folks back home in my dimension. You're the actors.''
I pause after inhaling deeply on the awe-inspiring combination of drugs and asked a question I could only conceive under said state.
`` *Are you telling me God is a TV producer? *''
Sean grins as smoke billows out his nose and between his teeth.
`` Precisely.''
He taps the joint in the Dark Side of the Moon ashtray again, then continues.
`` He's a pretty cool guy actually, I've been to every one of his fan events back in my dimension, and he always asks questions and is super respectful to all followers of the show.''
`` But I'll tell ya, the dude does not know how to move a plot line for shit.''
`` I mean, he's been hinting at this big'Judgement Day' thing for years now, and we get nothing. More melodrama, more,'Kimmy's banging Kanye' or bullshit terrorism stuff. Do you know how annoying that is for a lifelong fan like me? I've been watching this show for more time then you could even comprehend, and then some. I just want to see what it's all about.''
`` So why are you here?'' I ask him again.
He grins. `` See, I knew the joint would help you understand. Well, the thing is, God keeps hinting that you're going to be a major player in this Judgement Day thing, but he's still not sure how he can use you. You know, cos that whole free will thing.''
`` What do you mean,'free will thing'?'' I ask.
`` Free will. He ca n't really make you get up and become a warrior of Judgement Day, or whatever type of player you're going to be, it has to happen the way he wrote it. But you're straying off the beaten path. I mean, we all knew there were going to be some depressing scenes after your girlfriend dumped you for the fourth time, but this is getting ridiculous.''
He gestures to the heaping combination of laundry and Dominos boxes as he shrugs his shoulders.
`` Fuck you man. Why do you give a shit what happens?''
With this, Sean clearly takes offense. He stands up, raising his finger to me before chuckling and collecting himself and putting out the burning roach in his hand.
`` I care, because like every loyal fan, I do n't want to see my favorite show end before its prime. I've got a feeling your's has n't come to an end yet. So how about you get off your ass, go out there, and do something about it?''
With that, Sean throws on his aviators and snaps his fingers, disappearing before I can even respond, leaving me holding a PCP laced joint in one hand and my bong in the other.
`` Fuck.''
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[ WP ] Coming back to life .
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He was dead again. Or perhaps he had returned to death, which he did not know. Either way, the nothingness he felt around him was so familiar, he almost welcomed it. Iban saw his former frame before him without eyes, or skull, or skin, or flesh. Nebulous and ethereal, his consciousness hovered above his freshly slain frame, invisible to the human world and the eyes of his attackers. If these thieves thought they could sneak into his crypt and take his treasures, they had another thing coming. Iban Bhoss was not accustomed to such insults and set to rectify his intruders ’ lack of respect. The robbers cheered their short-lived victory with clashes of steel on steel before an argument broke out between them.
“ We must burn her body! ” shouted one thief, “ the gold is cursed so long as she rots! ”
“ No, we mustn ’ t burn her – the smoke from her corpse will strangle us! We must sink her to the bottom of a lake. ” another argued.
Then the one who had plunged his sword through Iban ’ s heart spoke up, “ You lot may be great thieves, but leave the superstitions to mystics and priests – they ’ re better at making money off them than you are. She was a deranged old woman, ” he paused “ with too much wealth and too many years to bear. We relieved her of both. ”
After exchanging nervous glances, the five men took to looting Iban ’ s study. Brine soaked the floor as knocked over jars burst, freeing slimey, long since dead things from their salty stasis. Precious gems and fine silver tools were loaded into the prowlers ’ dirty saddlebags, along with anything shiny the scoundrels could prize from the scene. Now that greed had their full attention, Iban sank back into his rapidly cooling body, flooding the fleshy frame until the dead witch ’ s lungs filled with air once more. Iban quietly got to his feet and, dislodging the blade from his breast, he promptly beheaded three of the five intruders.
“ You idiots should have burned me ” he spewed sarcastically, tearing out the throats of the last two with his teeth and hands, making a frothy red mess all over his writing desk.
“ Now look what you ’ ve made me do! ” he screamed at the dying men. Their bodies had sunk to the floor, twitching and gurgling as life left them.
“ Stand up! ”
At once, both men jerked upwards, standing perfectly at attention, waiting rigidly with a growing pool beneath their four feet.
“ By the gods, go stand outside until you ’ ve stopped dripping. ”
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[ WP ] When everyone turns 21 , they have to pick a superpower from an approved list and take classes on how to use it . You choose one that only one other person has ever picked before .
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I've never really been into the whole idea, really. It's just some stupid way for people to feel special or even superior. Its disgusting really. And everyone makes it out to be such a big deal.
`` Andrew, make sure you pick a good superpower. Something useful like your father. It's important that you have an edge out in the real world.''
My mother wants me to pick a useful power like Technomancy, Geomancy, or Psychometry. But everyone seems to pick those and those like them. Any power that can be used to boost your career is a common pick.
I would n't even be here if it was up to me. The Powers Act of 2045 made sure of that.
Rain is pouring off of shuddered buildings. Long streets filled with abandoned vendor stations are scattered along the sidewalk. The patter of raindrops as they bounce off of metal roofs, create an ambiance beyond the whisking of the rainfall. My feet hurry across the pavement, making long strides as the rain deflects off of my overcoat. I round a street corner, coming to a large slim building. It's walls look like they are being squeezed from the two buildings opposite. Above the door reads a sign `` Center for Power Distribution'': CPD. I push past the door and hurry inside.
A help desk awaits me. The air is musty filling my lungs like a thick smoke. The corners of the room are barely visible from the dim light of a single candle. I press the help desk bell.
Ding ding
A small elderly woman comes walking out. Her eyes squinted, as if they were shut.
“ Hello, who ’ s there? ” she says, her voice shaking.
I wave my hand back and forth in front of her face.
“ I ’ m here for my mandatory power, mam. ”
She comes out from around the desk.
“ Have you decided on what you want? ”
“ I don ’ t really care, give me anyone on the list. ”
Her eyebrows raise.
“ Really? Young man, you don ’ t care what superpower you get? Are you sure? ”
“ Yes I ’ m sure. ” “ If I could, I would skip out on this whole process altogether. ” “ Just give me anything, or better yet something as close to useless as possible. ”
She laughs softly.
“ Usually, people are excited to get their power. ”
I shrug, then she turns and I follow her through a short hallway into the power pressure room. I take a seat in the large metal chair. It ’ s suspended in the air by a large metal arm extending out from the wall. The old lady takes a seat behind the glass barrier, taking out an ipad and scrolling through the different options.
“ I ’ ve got something perfect for you, young man. ”
I roll my head around, trying to get comfortable.
“ Whatever, just get this over with. ”
The chair ’ s arm straps latch over my wrists. A strap holds my head back and the chair starts to rais upward, toward the roof of the building. As I move upward, the roof of the building begins to open. Mechanically, reeling back revealing the stormy sky. The rain blinds me, I ’ m facing the sky horizontally, forced to be hit with rain.
A whirring sound begins to warm up, building in volume. The chair begins to shake. A small beam projects from a ray in the wall. It ’ s light is blinding as it shifts from blue to green to red and then… FLOOOSSSHHH! WUUURRRMM I can feel myself being pulled upwards, as a large dark sphere unfolds a few inches above me.
“ Urrgsgdhg ”
My cheeks are peeling off my face! Jesus, get this over with already! The chair ’ s arm slowly moves toward the sphere. My stomach lurches as I enter the black blob.
A few minutes later, the chair lowers back down to its starting position. Empty.
“ Young man, young man?! Where are you? ”
The old lady quickly looks back at the list. Which power did she select? Invisibility? No. She runs scrolls down to the bottom of the list. Where there is a single option selected.
Traveler
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[ IP ] Lost
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St. Peter:
`` Little Hezekiah goes out on the slant for the pass... he rounds the corner and jukes left, spinning....
jumps in the air for the CAAAAATCH.....
`` AND IT'S GOOD! TOUCHDOWN, Heaven! And that puts the Angels up 20 to 6 in this afterlife matchup.''
Archangel Metatron:
`` Yeah, you can see the disappointment on Lucifer's face on the sideline. I bet he's wishing he had n't
been traded at the onset of the league's formation, that's for sure.''
St. Peter:
`` I imagine you're right, Metatron. Meanwhile, Jesus Christ is basking on Heaven's sidelines. You can
tell he's pleased with Little Hezekiah's performance.''
Archangel Metatron:
`` Oh, easily. He's the best receiver the Angels have ever had. You know, I would n't be surprised if they
made a statue for him when they put him in the Hall of Fame.''
-- -- -- -- --
Edited for formatting.
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[ WP ] `` Daddy , where do humans come from ? ''
|
`` Sweet sleeps Alyssandrea, do n't let the pod bugs bite!'' I say this and tickle my daughters stomach and she giggles. As I walk out of the room, I hear a curious voice.
`` Daddy, where do humans come from?''
I sigh, knowing that the time has come to tell her what she needs to know. Turning the light back on, I walk over and sit on the edge of her pod. `` Ally, that is a very loaded question'', I chuckle, `` and I have a very loaded answer''.
Alyssandrea looks up at me with her four bright and curious eyes, patiently waiting for an answer.
`` When a mommy zenopothian and a daddy zenopothian love each other very much, they purchase a human. Then, the mommy bites the little humans head off and the daddy takes away their hands and feet and use it to make a baby zenopothian just like you. Then, the daddy draws a circle with a line in their blood on the daddy's forehead. That's when he bites the head of off the mommy and then you're born.''
I stroke her heads, knowing that this was a lot to take in.
`` Where did you hear about humans anyways?''
`` My friend Manopanthia told me that without humans we would n't be here.''
`` Well that's not entirely true Ally, we used to grow human-like entities but they died from panama disease. This was because they were partially'banana' which is an earth fruit.''
Seeing as though my daughter was satisfied with my answers, I finished tucking her in and left the room, relieved that I finally told her the truth.
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[ WP ] Everyone gets a clock at birth with the countdown untill their deaths , one man 's clock only says ERROR
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I've seen them all. Individuals, families, generations. They come and go. I've lost so many loved ones that I can no longer love. They say the heart grows cold with age. Well, they say many things.
`` Once you're thirty, you're a real man.''
`` Once you're fifty, you are where you always wanted to be.''
`` Once you're eighty, you've seen it all.''
I guess I *have* seen it all. Took me a little longer, though. Two thousand one hundred and forty-two years, precisely. Enough to see civilizations rise and fall. Enough to see humanity in all its miserable glory. Enough to recognize the patterns. It's like they do n't learn anything, they keep repeating the same mistakes, striving for the same goals and being the same hypocrites they always were.
They? Or we? Am I human after all? I've exploited human weaknesses for decades, I've not abided to laws for centuries, I've played games with them for millenia. But does that really make me any less human than them? Do I not make mistakes?
My head secretary enters the room and bows deeply. `` Sir? The rebels are coming. They've already penetrated the first defense wall.'' I nod. Now is not the time to get carried away. Now is the time to take action. Once again.
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[ WP ] A bank is being robbed . A sperm bank
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`` Alright boys, this is the real deal.'' proclaimed Jimmy the Shark. `` Since Bits tapped into the camera system last week we've already seen one Brad Pitt AND one Mr. Kevin Bacon roaming those halls with bottles of their own jism. According to their computer records they've also got the frozen batter of at least a dozen other A List celebs in there. Our associate Mr. F has guaranteed us 50 to 100 k a pop. There's minimal security on account of people do n't usually go around stealing cum and F wants it loud to add authenticity to the samples. Bits'll stay here to watch the cameras and make sure we can get through the doors. You two clip up and lets get ready to roll.''
Finger and Sammy double checked their equipment and the freezer while Itchy, the driver, pulled the van up in front of Hollywood Genomes. As soon as Itchy threw in in park Jimmy and the two trigger men pulled down their masks and filed out guns drawn.
The second the entered the door Sammy spotted the guard and clubbed him hard with the butt of his rifle. Finger wasted no time using the gold plated finger that gave him his name to spray several rounds into the ceiling. Jimmy made sure the civilians were keeping their faces on the floor while the other two tied them up along with the unconscious guard. They made it into the cold storage room in under 3 minutes without incident. However, that's when things went south in a hurry. Sammy knocked over some random jerkoff's fresh specimen. Finger slipped in it. He mowed down Jimmy and clipped Sammy on the way down breaking his own neck on a shelf.
When Bits relayed the shit show to Itchy he peeled out without a moments hesitation. By the time Sammy dragged himself to the exit the police already had the place surrounded. He was n't going back to jail, especially not over something as embarrassing as this, as was killed in the resulting gun fight.
When all was said and done most of the samples were destroyed when Jimmy got shot and one somehow came up missing. Nobody ever found out Officer Rosita Martinez walked right out of there with a pocket full of Johnny Depp.
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[ WP ] You are a vampire hunter who has been bitten . Describe the next three hours .
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Been bitten by a bat that I suspect
By his large fangs and his unearthly screech
Was not a normal bat but more vampiric.
He drunk from my blood like a sinful leech.
The irony of this is my profession,
To hunt these creatures, bear their mortal ends.
And now I'll see their similar tribulation,
Immortal life while feeding on former friends.
The thought has crossed me, but it's just too late;
Might I end my life to stop this deathly curse?
I plunge a silver dagger in my nape.
My hand stops short, held by a foreign force.
The undead madness that governs all vampires
Was soon the cruel dictator of my desires.
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[ WP ] You wake up in an empty hospital with an envelope taped to your chest , you read the letter inside . `` If you 're reading this , that means you have awoken . Inside the envelope is a syringe with a small dose of a chemical that will kill you in seconds without pain , use it . DO NOT GO OUTSIDE . ''
|
It felt strange to be awake again, the pain in my side was gone, so that was a relief. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in a rundown ruined hospital room. The air was murky and dusty, it hurts to breathe. I got up and noticed a small envelope attached to the front of the hospital gown I was wearing. I looked around for my glasses, found them in the garbage for some unclear reason. I used the gown to clean them off, opened the envelope. I found two things, a syringe containing a bright blue liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dimly lit room and a small letter. I decided to read the note. It said:''*If you're reading this, that means you have awoken. Inside the envelope is a syringe with a small dose of a chemical that will kill you in seconds without pain, use it. DO NOT GO OUTSIDE! *''
And into my mind came a defiant thought.''*I am not going to do this again. *'' I threw away the syringe, I knew that it was lying. It smashed to pieces as it hit the wall, and the strange blue liquid smoked and fumed as it came to contact with the wall and floor as it started dissolving the wall slowly. I walked to the door and broke it down, knowing that escape was not an option, I charged daringly into the darkness that I knew awaited me.
It felt strange to be awake again, the pain in my side was gone, so that was a relief...
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[ WP ] You are the a dog being trained by your owner , what is going through your mind ?
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I look at this hulking mass of flesh and color in front of me and wonder what it is it wants. I cock my head to the side at the clicking sound coming from its paws. The paws aren ’ t like mine, however. They are long, pointy, and can bend in ways I can ’ t understand.
I look down at my own paws, stretching them out in front of me, and try to make sense of my own. This creature in front of me has no rough padding and its nails are flat, not pointy like mine.
“ What in the woof is that noise ” I wonder to myself as I eye this monstrous beast in front of me.
“ Sit, Bruno, sit ” I hear coming from these flapping pieces of pink skin affixed to its face, just underneath what looks to be its nose.
I wonder why his nose isn ’ t wet like mine. I can ’ t think of these things at this moment. This thing is trying to communicate something to me and I need to focus on what it is.
It keeps pointing its paw down towards my rear and yelling “ sit ” followed by this horrific, incessant clicking noise. My goodness, what does this thing want from me?
I catch a whiff of something wonderful.
I lift my nose into the air, twitching it from side to side in order to gather more of the smell. I keep sniffing and my belly starts to growl.
This smells magnificent.
“ Click.'' `` Sit, Bruno, sit! ”
That damned noise again.
Oh the smell. What is this glorious smell.
I pinpoint this smell. It is emanating from this creature ’ s other paw. It is a meat of some kind. Maybe one of those flapping masses of feathery things. I like to call them meatballs because every time I tear into one, the meat is delicious, but those damned things covering its body get caught in my throat. But I don ’ t smell any of those things. Just meat.
I look at its mouth. It won ’ t stop moving, sitting, and its paws clicking. The pointing must mean something.
I back up in the direction its paw is pointing.
“ No, sit. ”
“ Click. ”
I wish this beast would stop clicking. It ’ s driving me completely Chihuahua. Maybe this thing wants me to put my balls on the ground? I don ’ t care what I have to do. I have to get to whatever that is in his other paw.
“ Just show me the damned thing already, ” I say.
“ No barking, Bruno. Sit! ”
To the ground I sit my balls. They are cold now. But from the smell of things, it must be worth it. I am so excited, I can not stop staring at that damned paw of his. My tail becomes uncontrollable at this point. This beast needs to understand how hungry I am. I must have whatever is in his hand or I will claw him.
“ Good BOY, Bruno. ”
“ Click. ”
That fucking clicking sound.
My nose twitches as the smell gets stronger. He opened his other paw. What in the basset is that thing in his paw? I wish my tail would stop shaking like this. It ’ s causing my balls to scrape the floor and it ’ s most uncomfortable.
“ Give me the meat, beast ” I hope he understands what I ’ m saying. I doubt it. This creature looks kind of funny to me with his long, shaggy hair. What kind of animal is he?
His paw is in front of me. I lift my body from the ground and accept this gift.
I can taste everything! I must get control of my tail. Oh it is so delicious. It is definitely made with the meatball creature, but there is something else in it. Something dirty but so tasty. It almost has a slimy feel in my mouth.
I use my sharp teeth to break it. I then roll it around my tongue and... damnit. I swallowed it.
I wonder if this beast in front of me has another one of these most precious things.
“ Good boy, Bruno. ”
His hand reaches for my tail, but wait.
Oh. Oh.
My leg.
What is wrong with my leg. My leg is scratching my stomach and I can not stop this. His paws are so wonderful. I can never reach that part of my body, but he can. Years of not being able to scratch the spot above my tail has made me a very unhappy thing.
I can ’ t believe he just pulled his paw from my back. I must get at that paw.
Damn this. What is going on with this creature? First he won ’ t stop clicking that stupid contraption, then he keeps trying to tell me some nonsense about ‘ sit ’, whatever that is. Now he won ’ t continue fixing my tail problem? What a rotweiler!
I have to jump up and grab his paw. I have to get that thing back to where it belongs.
Okay, I ’ m there. I ’ m scratching at his long leg things, which are weird because he has been standing on them all day. It hurts when I try that, but I don ’ t care anymore. I love this creature. I want to keep him for myself.
“ Click. ”
Oh my Labrador, he has another thing. What did I do last time? What was it? That ’ s right. My balls must be on the floor.
I sit my balls on the ground and there it is again.
“ Click. ”
Oh my. Tell me it ’ s...
Yes! This tastes wonderful and... damnit. I swallowed it again. Why must I do that?
I believe I understand how to get these things from this creature. I have to get him to click that thing as I place my balls to the ground. That ’ s it. I have figured it out. Just a few more times and I believe I will have this beast trained.
Thank the mighty Lab for all that is meaty.
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[ WP ] Suddenly across the globe , large , feathered , rotted corpses begin to drop out of the sky . They are soon identified to be Angels .
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The Shepherd had n't strayed more than a dozen miles from his home in all 54 years of his life. He had learned his trade from his father, as his father had learned from his father before him. He knew the winds and clouds that swept over the Moorlands better than any other... he knew which wisps in the sky portended fair weather in the coming month, and he knew which ones were harbingers of something worse.
A low, dusky sheet of cloud had descended across the Moorlands, and a light breeze whispered as it cut through the grass. The Shepherd studied the clouds and wind as he had so many times before, hoping to glean some insight of the weather to come. As he strained to look at the sky, he thought for a moment that he saw something roiling and writihing within the impenetrable haze. It filled him with a sense of dread. This was something new in the sky, and experience had taught him that such things rarely bode well.
He turned to his grandsons, two young children presently assisting the dogs in corralling a few unruly sheep.
`` Boys, we'll take lunch early today. Back to the house. Quickly.''
They began jogging and skipping giddily toward the house. An early lunch was a rare treat for them. They were too young and too naive to the horrors of the world to share in their grandfather's unease. As he finished driving the last of the sheep into their enclosure, a gust of cold wind hit. The animals began bleating furiously, and rain began to fall.
`` A sudden rainstorm?,'' the Shepherd thought. He wiped his brow and sighed. Maybe his unease was unjustified. Maybe he was growing dull in his old age. As he looked down, though, he noticed that his hand bore a streak of... *blood*? He looked up, and saw the white coats of his sheep speckled in red. This was no rain.
The Shepherd set off toward his house at a pace that sent pain piercing through his weathered joints with every stride. The rain of blood intensified, rolling off his coat in dark rivulets. Just then, a crumpled heap of... something... landed in front of him with the sound of snapping bone.
The Shepherd cautiously approached. The broken mass reeked of carrion and oozed a black, ichorous fluid. As far as he could tell from the hideous, rotten breasts, this corpse had once been a woman. As he moved around the body, he saw something peculiar about the back.
Wings. Bloody, blackened, and crumpled... but unmistakable. It was an angel.
He stood dumbstruck for a moment, then resumed his headlong rush toward his home and his grandchildren. More rotten angelic corpses began to fall from the sky, and the sanguine rain became a torrent. The splatter of blood and the crack of bone drowned out the sound of his breathing and footsteps.
When the Shepherd reached his home, he flung open the door and rushed to find his grandchildren. He saw the youngest laughing by the hearth, seemingly untouched and oblivious to the apocalyptic scene unfolding outside.
`` Where is your brother?'' asked the Shepherd.
The grandson stood and turned toward his grandfather, gesturing with the knife in his hand. Blood ran down the blade toward a mutilated corpse in the corner of the room. A grin spread across the child's face, and he began to cackle with a voice far too deep for a child so young.
`` He did n't hear it. He could n't. I tried to help him, but...''
The young child's eyes grew large with bloodlust, and he lunged toward his grandfather. The Shepherd attempted to deflect the blow, but he was overcome by the child's unnatural strength. The blade sunk deep, finding the artery it was seeking. The Shepherd was overcome first by cold, then by darkness.
`` Do n't worry, grandpa. We'll all be one soon.''
******************************************************
From a stone cairn high atop a hill in the Moorlands, I surveyed the landscape below as it was darkened by an unholy rain. A beautiful rain.
These fools and their `` guardian'' angels. What has an *angel* ever guarded? They are automatons, mindless weapons that enforce an unnatural order. They exist to uphold arbitrary rules concocted by their creator. They are the shield that protects those who possess what they do not deserve. They are chains that fetter those with the power to claim what is rightfully theirs.
No longer.
The ritual is complete. Their wings will darken the sky no more. But there are worse things in this world than angels.
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[ IP ] There would be no turning back after this
|
Clarke sat next to me on the hood of that piece of shit 1969 Camaro looking off into the hills, eating his pitstop egg salad sandwich I told him would give him the runs. The world was motionless out here, it'd been twenty minutes since the last human came our way; a longhaul semi-trucker given us the stinkeye. The breeze smelt like dust and whistled calmly by. I think it was the lack of anything that made me like it. Places like this are abundant in the world, but you got ta leave where you are to find them.
`` That things probably full of bug eggs'' I told him, pointing my cola bottle to the sandwich he continued to munch.
`` I was hungry'' I think he said. Could n't quite hear it through his mouthful. Clarke was a good listener, only in that he'd hear what you told him, then promptly not care. In hindsight, that's how we got in the most trouble, and had the most fun. This little expedition we found ourselves on, for instance, was a result of one of these apathetic moments. If I could boil it down to a single moment it would be when he said `` You'll get over her in Vegas'' while packing my bag for me.
Nevada was n't that far, really, but it was over those hills, and the Camaro did n't have a radio. On top of that, I was n't sure Clarke's motives were all that genuine. He'd wanted to go to Vegas since his 21st birthday, I think he saw Cathy swinging behind my back as the excuse to go with his best friend. Maybe he was right though, maybe I would get over her.
So there we sat, taking a break on the side of the highway, absent-mindedly chipping rust off the hood and trying to calculate how many hours we still had to go.
`` What do you think it'll be like? Like the movies?''
`` Ya, I think so. Lot of lights, lots of sounds, casinos everywhere.''
`` what'd you wan na do first?''
`` Honestly, have a nap''
He chuckled.
`` Ca n't swoon pretty girls in bed, bro.''
`` Your having the wrong kinds of dreams then.''
Another car puttered by. Three kids bouncing in the back of a wood panel hatchback with the most dejected mom and dad I've ever seen. Soon the sound of it faded off behind us and we were left in the quiet again. That comfortable nothing.
`` The way the movies make it look, Nevada is a big desert with that ball of light and sound at the bottom, and it's all empty.''
`` Yeah. And we get to drive right down it.''
`` what'd the map say?''
`` We just got off number six, so we take 375 down to Crystal Springs, then down 93, then onto 15, and we're pretty much there.''
`` Whole lot a nothing between here and there.''
Clarke hopped off the hood and dusted crumbs off his jeans.
`` Then we'd better stake our claim to that nothing.''
We never actually made it to Vegas. Camaro blew something in the heat and we spent till well past midnight getting back home. We left the car on the side of the road there in the middle of the desert, but not before scratching `` DO NOT STEAL! PIECE OF SHIT!'' into the driver's side door.
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[ WP ] Write a story about a serial killer posing as a xylopolist who kills his victims through tyrotoxism .
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`` Allow me to be off base here, for a sec, would ya?'' the rookie cop said, to the serial killer in back. They were sitting in him and his partner's squad car. His partner was just outside the driver-side door, talking to HQ through a walkie-talkie.
`` I wood...''
`` Ok. Why go around telling people you wan na sell them lumber? Could n't you have come up with a better story? I mean, I buy and use wood occasionally, but I would never take someone up on their offer if they just came to my door, asking me if I wanted to buy some. Wood's more of a spur of the moment thing; do n't ya think?''
The serial killer wanted to fold his arms, but they were behind his back, and his wrists were manacled. `` I always tell'em I have good rates,'' he said. `` Besides, I can be a fine salesman, when I want to be.''
`` Yeah, I'm not doubting any of that. I'm just saying, when you need wood for a project, or whatever, you usually just go and buy it, then. Wood weighs a lot, and takes up a lot of space, so I doubt lots of people just stockpile that shit, just in case they would ever have a use for it. And... you say that you're a good salesman, but did n't you hit that lady up there, when she asked you if you would give her a senior discount? That does n't sound like best xylopolist practices, to me!''
The serial killer ground his teeth. `` No senior discounts. Fuckin' old hag, always wanting to suck society's tits...''
The rookie looked at the serial killer in the rearview mirror, who was frothing to himself, just as his partner opened the driver-side door and slipped behind the wheel. `` HQ told us to wait here a while,'' he said, `` so I went ahead and got you something.''
The partner handed a danish over to the rookie.
`` Thanks,'' the rookie said, `` What kind is it?''
`` Cheese,'' the partner said.
The serial killer looked at the back of the partner's head, with a malevolent grin on his lips, as the rookie took a bite, then screamed these final, blood-curdling words: `` Not tyrotoxism! Anything but tyrotoxism!''
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[ WP ] Aliens have made contact with earth and demand that the human race turn over one person . Humanity has 24 hours to comply , and if they do n't , the earth will be destroyed . You wake up , turn on the news , and discover that person is you .
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It's three am and no rest has been achieved, every bone aches in the night's cold embrace. The ship had appeared in the afternoon sky yesterday; outside, it has continued to blot out starlight like a second moon.
I untangle myself from the covers, drag on some clothing and feel the chill weigh me down. The dread is in my muscles and I wish that this was a bad dream. When I reach the hall I can see my dog asleep in the living room. She wakes up and thumps the ground with her tail, sighing before returning to sleep. I try to be quiet when I turn on the television, half of the stations are static. And through some tactical moves with the remote I finally find a news station, the ticker reads out the signal that has been decoded into binary. After a few minutes the announcer lifts her head, the surprise playing on her face as she reads her lines.
`` We have breaking news: Investigators have found an image in the signal created by the object.''
The feed changes from the studio to a blurry, warped image. It's unmistakeable, like looking into a foggy mirror. After a few seconds I finally digest it. My face is staring back at me from the light, it is me. That is me from ten years ago, in bed and asleep. I feel my composure break, my eyes sliding shut and the tears sliding down my face because I know that I am already dead.
I drag myself to my feet and turn on my computer. I turn the light on in the dinning room before picking up my dog and sitting back down on the couch. This will be our last hours together, or less.
The woman on the television looks very distraught when the view goes back to her. Then it zooms in on her, and then their expert appears.
It's a man `` We have reason to believe that the extra terrestrials are looking for this person. If they do not receive this person they will destroy Earth.''
The host looks at him like he's crazy, `` And how did you come to this conclusion?'' He opens his mouth to talk but the feed cuts off from him. `` Breaking news, statements released by the FBI.'' she receives a few pages of paper from someone off-screen. `` Any person with information on the human shown should call the following number immediately. Again, this is a worldwide threat.'' a number shows on the screen. I set my dog down and jot it down, hands trembling.
The only other person home is my little sister, and by every thing on this planet I do n't want to leave her. I force the bile down and go to her room. I wake her as gently as possible and I tell her that I'm leaving, that I have to go and that I'm sorry, so sorry that I ca n't watch her grow up. She's so confused, but I hug her and ask her to sleep, to take care of mom and the pets, and tell her that I will always love her no matter what happens.
I grab a pen and paper and write a note to my mother, put it on her door for when she'll come back from her trip. I write a second to my older sister, with all of my logins and information, who to say bye to since I'm leaving now. I leave a goodbye on everything I'm logged into automatically, there's even a few people still awake at this hour.
I call the number they had put on the screen, tell them that I'm the one that's in the picture. Tell them that it's circa 2010 and where I live, that I'm willing to leave. They tell me where to go, I grab the car keys and put on my shoes. I say goodbye to my dogs, the cats my plants, everything here, everyone whose number I can recall before all my minutes are gone.
It's drizzling outside, making the asphalt a slick black color like it's alive. By the time I get to the supermarket there's more than just a few police cars. I ask if they can take the car back before I get into one of the cop cars, the doors slam shut. The night is still cold and the lights are flashing, even if the streets are nearly abandoned.
I watch the world blur by, staring out the window. I know we're heading downtown, but something in my gut says what building we're going to. It's one of those odd, windowless ones that you just know is an FBI hideout. I get shuffled out into the rain, and then walked down several blocks. They apologize for the discomfort but I tell them that I'll enjoy the air while I have it still.
They take me to the tower, it's well known for being the tallest building in the city. The place is abandoned, but they've brought along a guy with a key that seems to open every door. Someone opens up the stairwell and we start up them. I'm exhausted by the time we get to the top. They have to do some hijinks to get the last latch open, before helping me up. We're on the rooftop, slathered by rain and feathers. The roofing feels odd and I stick to the antenna, clinging tight.
We wait here until dawn comes, I do n't really notice what's happening until someone asks for the time. The ship has moved over our city, forcing the cloud cover low before breaking through. It feels like being in an MRI machine, and I can hardly hear them over the sound of my heartbeat. I say goodbye to the agents before I feel everything break.
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[ WP ] Write me a poem about working at a taco joint so I can make it through another day .
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For here or to go, they hear you ask.
Once they've paid you nip your flask.
`` I can make it through today'' you tell yourself,
as you slip the booze back behind the shelf.
Daydream of the day your boss goes too far,
Sneers `` You're a taco jockey, that's all you are''
`` Ill show you, you piece of shit!''
Your imagination runs wild with clever ways to quit.
Tomorrows Headlines read of a recent happening in town,
'Disgruntled Taco Man Burns the Joint to the Ground'
Maybe a witty movie quote you could spout,
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, your cool, fuck you I'm out!
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[ WP ] You are a dragon , but instead of fire , you can breathe out anything between mild affection all the way up to insatiable lust . For you are a love dragon .
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In between that insipid stevia-sweetened gelato I enjoyed after lunch and my two o'clock hammock nap, I took a stroll to the Walmart a quarter mile from the cave and that's where we met. He was wearing a cape and looking like he strolled out of a skate haven in the mid nineties ( sans the skates ) and I tucked my green wings in tight hoping to appear smaller.
I asked him about his footwear, grasping at straws for another conversation starter not so lame. `` Hey where did you get those kick ass shoes?''
`` What the hell, are you a dragon?''
`` Yes, but, I grew up in a human family. Anyways, sorry to bother you, just thought your shoes were neat. Never mind.''
He stares at my wings. So embarrassing. I shuffle back a few steps.
`` You smell like a campfire,'' he says.
`` Do you like campfires?''
`` Sure, everyone does. Smores are goddamn delicious. Can you breathe fire?''
`` No. Not fire, not anymore.''
I want to ask him why he's at a Walmart but that seems stupid. And he seems into the dragon thing so I figure that's the angle that makes the most sense. I drag a toenail across the pavement.
`` That's the sweetest sound I ever heard,'' he says.
We lock eyes.
`` Come on back to my cave. I've got smores.''
And the rest is history.
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[ WP ] A man wakes up from a 30-year cryosleep to find that the future is either a dreamy utopia or a hellish nightmare . He went into cryosleep in 1985 . That future is today .
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**BEEP**
As the timer that had been counting down for the past thirty years on the small CRT monitor next to the cryogenic stasis chamber hit zero, a flurry of machinery could be heard. All of it creaked and groaned in protest against the arthritic joints that held together most of the chamber without budging for the past three decades. Even with the best technologies of the era would struggle to stand the test of time, but at the very least everything moved the way it was supposed, even if it was oh-so-reluctantly doing so.
The computers began pumping oxygen back into the chamber and warming the temperature of the human being inside back to a stable body temperature, and the door slowly inched open, as if it were metering out how much of the outside world to expose to the human being at once. Not that it mattered, as the human inside had already begun to wake with the exposure of warm oxygen breathing life back into his frail body.
Frail only by the standards of the machinery around him, however. By most other standards, the man inside was actually quite fit. Standing at what was now considered the average height of 5 feet and 11 inches, the man looked to be in his mid twenties, weighing about a hundred and ninety pounds, most of which consisted of a well-sculpted, muscular physique. A high-sided cropped haircut seemed to be indicative of time spent in the military, which was further confirmed by the label embroidered onto the mandarin collar of his grey uniform, spelling out `` 1LT E. NICHOLS''. Indeed, if anybody in the laboratory had been from a military background, they might offer him a salute upon his awakening.
Of course, that was really only possible if there had been anybody in the laboratory at all. As the young lieutenant gasped his first breath of warm air in three decades, his first thought was of how abruptly the sudden disappearance of the kind nurses that had put him in before he had lost consciousness seemed to be almost paranormal.
He did n't have long to think about this before focusing on trying to catch his breath. He found it strangely difficult to breathe, and as he felt the door opened fully, he leaned out of it in an attempt to lower his head and breathe better. Which might have worked, had he not immediately vomited on the floor directly in front of him. It was at that moment that he realized that not only was he having difficulty breathing, but that his eyes were in fact, fully open despite being unable to see anything. The loud beeping of the machines around him combined with his sudden blindness had induced severe vertigo, which was to blame for the vomiting.
Reaching out and steadying himself on the handle of the door, Lieutenant Nichols took a step out of the chamber and tried to acclimate himself to the sensory overload that had taken hold. Surely, the nurses or scientists would soon be at his side, ready to bring him into a world of wonders that he'd missed.
Except no one ever came.
Slowly regaining control of his sense, Nichols took another step out of the chamber and blinked rapidly, looking up in the hopes of being able to see something. As the world around him came into focus, he soon realized that he was all alone, the only person to step out of one of the many stasis chambers in the laboratory, each one in a different state of either counting down to the time when they would open or already being open. The once buzzing laboratory, so devoid of life, seemed extremely eerie, and Nichols dropped to his knees to try to process what was happening and determine why there was nobody there. Could the cold war have been lost? Had Russians already killed all of the scientists? Maybe there was an alien invasion? Had a nuclear winter ravaged the people, leaving those in the stasis program forgotten?
Feeling his knees get wet, Nichols abruptly stood as he realized he was kneeling in his own vomit. He needed to get his bearings and find out what the situation was, and quickly, before anything else happened to this lone Lieutenant. He spotted a small desk in the corner with what looked like a smaller version of a computer on it. Determining that that would have information to clue him in on what to do on it, he stumbled towards it, hoping that computers had n't changed too much since his time in stasis. If it would n't respond to the BASIC inputs that he had learned on his brother's commodore, he would really be up shit creek without a paddle.
Before he could make it, though, he noticed a distinct whirring sound start up from behind one of the stasis chambers. Pausing mid stumble, Nichols looked in the direction of the source of the noise. It sounded like an electric motor of some sort, and he sincerely hoped that it was just another chamber opening.
His hopes were dashed as he saw a two wheeled contraption roll out from behind the chamber. As what looked like a broom handle mounted onto two wheels with a glowing panel on top rounded the corner and moved towards him, Nichols began to fear what malicious intent the device might bring with it. He scrambled towards the computer, hoping beyond all hope that it would somehow save him, and reached it just before the machine had gotten close to him.
He turned to face it, ready to fight it off in case it tried to bring Soviet death upon him. So he was extremely surprised to see what appeared to be the face of a fat man who had n't shaved in ages upon the glowing panel. And what was more, it appeared to be a *moving* image of a man's face.
`` Oh good morning, Lieutenant. I apologize, the sensors on your chamber must not be responding, I was expecting a notification from it to come in sometime this week but I was n't sure when so I just remoted in to check. It seems I must have missed the timing.''
The panel spoke to him! As Nichols concluded that televisions must have been shrunk down to this size, and become so portable!
Inspecting the television, he did n't expect it to continue speaking as if it were attempting to interact with him.
`` Lieutenant, are you OK? I'll send someone in right away, but I need some sort of response from you to know that you're still responsive,'' the man instructed as he began eating out of a bag of chips somewhere off screen.
`` I'm... OK?'' The lieutenant said, not sure if he was looking like a fool for speaking to a moving television.
`` Ok great,'' the man on the screen confirmed, `` someone will be there in 20 minutes. Just hang tight until then. And please, do n't touch that computer, there's very sensitive data on there.''
`` Wait, you can see me?'' Nichols asked, wondering how the man being televised knew he was reaching for the keyboard of the computer he was sitting at.
`` Oh shit, I forgot you have n't seen this before. Ok yeah, so this is an iPad mounted on a Segwa- oh damn I guess you do n't know what either of those are huh. What year did they put you in again?''
`` 1985.''
`` Well damn, I got ta start from the top. So this screen you see me talking out of is a tablet, it's basically a mini computer that I'm using to transmit video and control the segway - the wheeled motorcycle thing under it - so that I can work from home and not come into the office. You see how there's a few little black dots on top of the screen?'' the man asked.
`` Yes, sir,'' Nichols replied, still trying to work out how they had gotten a *computer* to display video.
`` Well,'' the man continued, `` those are the cameras and microphones that I can see and hear you out of. This is what's called a Skype Call, it's a way for two people to have video presence with each other without being physically in each other's presence.''
`` And you can do this from another one of these - iPads, you called them?'' Nichols asked, trying to figure out what other technologies he had missed out on.
`` That's right,'' the man said, nodding, `` although right now I'm just doing this from my phone since my iPad is in the living room.''
`` Your PHONE?'' Nichols exclaimed, almost disbelieving what he had just heard.
`` Yeah... phones are just smaller versions of the screen that you see in front of you now.''
`` And you can use these things to do all of your work now?'' Nichols asked, quickly picking up what the man was saying.
`` Yeah, there's not really a lot of reason to be on-site anymore, what with remote access and the internet being as efficient as it is,'' the man said, upending the last of the bag of chips into his mouth, `` I mean, I do n't think I know anybody who actually goes to their physical office to work that does n't need to, since this is just so much more convenient.''
`` Wait, including the nurses?'' the Lieutenant posited.
`` Well, we had lost the budget to keep nurses on staff for a bunch of people who were in stasis, so we let go of all of our nurses a few years ago and have their work contracted out to the local hospital. That's why it'll take them so long to get to you.''
`` And the actual scientists and researcher do n't bother coming in to do research anymore?''
`` Why should we? We do everything just as effectively from here since it's all automated. I have n't actually been outside in almost a month now, since the last time there was a malfunction in the lab. Man that sucked, I could n't remember how to get there. I got shafted, actually having to come in to fix it since it was my turn. Lucky Jacobs does n't know how to fix half of the machinery in the lab, so he has n't been in the lab since he got hired. Man I wish...''
As the man on screen droned on and on about the perks of remote work and never having to come in, Nichols thought for a moment what kind of world he had awoken in. One in which human contact with the outside world, and presumably with each other, had been virtualized and no longer necessary, certainly seemed like a dystopian nightmare to him, to never be able to see his colleagues again, but the man he spoke to seemed so genuinely happy at never having to see anybody that it must have done some good.
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[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Motivational Edition
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*As told by Prime Astro_Seta*
I look back up to the sky when the explosion occurs and a chill crawls up my back. Pieces of the lifeboat are now falling as dragon red streaks from the bright orange sky. Panic rises as the attacking ship continues to fire rapidly at everything. I turn to David with a pleading look in my eyes and he nods. Powering up he disappears into the distance faster than the eye can see. Some of the lifeboats start to descend.
I rush to the nearest incoming boat, waving my hands wildly. “ Get this thing off the ground! ” I yell above the whirr of the engine.
The pilot just looks at me, while still landing the craft, and through the speakers, “ Do you not see the giant ship blowing lifeboats to pieces? ” *No shit*.
“ More are coming! Get off the ground! ”
The pilot pays me no heed. He begins to un-strap himself when it happens.
Hurtling down the sky a blast of pure unadulterated superheated plasma impacts the ship at 5000m/s. The impact knocks the breath out of me and in a hot searing flash of white light everything in the area vaporizes. It blasts me 30 feet away. I smack my back into a wall and hear a sickening crack sound and I can ’ t tell if it is my spine or the wall. The world flares brightly. Then it goes all black
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A high pitch ringing in my ears wakes me up. My nose is bleeding. I float of the wall to the ground and fall to my knees. I touch the back of my head; it ’ s wet. There is smoke everywhere and everything is burning. Even though I can ’ t still hear anything, I try to say something. But the only sounds coming out of my mouth are these weird choking noises. My hair is all over my face. My shoulders start vibrating. But it is only when I try to brush the hair of my face that I realize that I am sobbing pitifully. Everywhere is burning.
* “ Static ” *
Somehow the radio strapped to my leg is still intact.
* “ Astro_Pri – Seta… static. Astro_Prime Seta ” * I don ’ t recognize this voice. The voice continues and I continue choking on my tears.
“ * Gim me that*. ”
*David*.
I quiet down.
* “ Seta*…static…*it ’ s me*. ” I remain kneeling motionless, except for my silent shuddering shoulders.
* “ Okay, you don ’ t, you don ’ t have say anything, okay? * ” Static. “ *Seta are you okay*? ” Static. “ You don ’ t have to say anything, okay. ” I don ’ t say anything, but I reach for the radio and hold the switch for a few seconds and let go.
I hear his sigh of relief. “ *Alright Seta, you ’ re hurt, you ’ re, it ’ s bad, right? But sweetie you can ’ t stay down. Alright you ’ re the Prime now. You can ’ t stay grounded; you got ta regain control the of battle field, alright*? ”
“ *Okay –**Static*.
*Static*
. High pitched unbearable static. I lose the signal permanently.
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[ WP ] You are the owner of a tea shop . Describe the peculiar customers/regulars that patronize your shop .
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I heard Kimmy walking down the small hallway to my office. She took short, heavy steps and it was easy to keep track of her in the shop even when she was in the other room. As she got closer I heard her talking to someone.
`` Excuse me, Irving'' She said as she appeared in the doorway. `` This is Matt, the new guy. It's his first day.''
`` Good morning.'' Matt said as he reached out and shook my hand.
`` Thanks, Kimmy. I'm about done in here. I'll be out in a moment and I'll show Matt here around.''
The clock struck 6:30 and it was time to open. I walked out to the front of the shop as Kimmy was letting in the first two customers of the day.
`` Good morning, Pete. Good morning, Janice.'' Kimmy said I she let them inside. They were heading for the same table they sat in every morning. `` The usual?'' Pete smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
`` That's Mr. and Mrs. Dickson.'' I said to Matt. `` They come in here every morning. Pete gets a dark roast coffee with a splash of cream, and Janice gets an earl grey tea and blueberry scone.''
`` Alright.'' Matt replied as he grabbed a scone from the display case near the cash register, then turned around to prepare the coffee. I made Janice's tea.
`` I always like to bring them their order and talk to them for a little. We try to get to know all the regulars.'' I said to Matt as he followed me to their table. `` Good morning!'' I addressed the couple with a smile as Matt and I set their drinks in front of them, and the scone in front of Janice. `` This is Matt, it's his first day. Bob and Marge running late today?''
Pete shook Matt's hand and then turned to me. `` Would appear that way, you know how they are. Marge probably wanted to stop for a coffee on the way to get coffee.''
I laugh at Pete's joke and then walked back behind the counter with Matt. `` Bob and Margret Washington should be here soon. They're never far behind those two and they usually eat together.''
I began to show Matt around the drink station. I was in the middle of showing him how to use the milk steamer when Bob walked in the door. His hair was messed up, his shirt was wrinkled, and he looked tired.
`` Hey, Bob. Everything alright?'' I asked. Pete and Janice looked up from their table, they shared my concern.
`` No.'' Bob's eyes began to fill with tears. `` Marge had a heart attack last night, she's in critical condition in the hospital. They do n't know if she's gon na make it.'' He broke down. Pete brought him a chair and Bob collapsed into it. Right in the middle of the floor. Kimmy began crying and I could n't believe what I'd heard. I've known Marge for 10 years. She came in every day since we opened.
Matt walked over to Bob and handed him a cup of coffee. `` That's on me.'' Matt said. `` I'm Matt, I'm sorry to hear about your wife. If there's anything else I can do for you, just let me know.''
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[ WP ] Valhalla is real , and has been accepting the souls of slain warriors from prehistoric times to the present day . A soldier killed in a present-day war finds himself there .
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`` -oken arrow, over!'' Corporal Nicholas Moschitti finished screaming over his radio before realizing he was n't in Seoul, South Korea anymore. `` What the fuck!'' Nicholas yelled scrambling for his weapon, At that moment a large man marched up to Moschitti unbeknownst to him. `` Calm yourself down, boy'' the man said in a booming voice. Nicholas looked up at him with terror; one part because he has been teleported to a place he's never seen before and the other because a 6'10 man who could n't have weight less then 450 lbs. was standing over him with an axe. `` Who are you? Where the fuck am I?''. Nicholas was still in `` fight'' mode. The man picked him up to his feet and tried to calm him down. After a good shaking and yelling Nicholas started to Listen to the man. `` What is happening right now?'' The man replied, `` You are now in Valhalla, be happy; your suffering is over'' Nicholas still could n't believe it. `` You where shoot in the neck and forehead, the bullet hit your forehead and exited out of your under arm and you where shot right through the neck.'' The man said with a empathetic voice. Nicholas could n't believe what he was hearing, he wondered if his message to HQ was received and what happened to his squad mates, he realized it did n't matter anymore, he must be dead. The man said follow me, they walked through the mountains to the Palace of Valhalla. `` My Name is Vidar, you are in Valhalla, a place for warriors to rest.'' Nicholas could n't believe it. As they walked Nicholas asked few questions. `` What about my squadmates?'' Vidar said `` Private Noah Uphold will be here soon, everyone else will die within the hour.'' They neared the palace. Nicholas had accepted his faith, Vidar opened the palace doors a bright light blinded him. Nicholas heard a loud crash, followed by gunshots and mortars. Nicholas laid in a hole on a street corner covered in his own blood his vision blurring, He died there.
This is one of my first prompts. I hope you liked it and I hope it was coherent.
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[ WP ] John Cena has died . He finds himself in Valhalla eagerly awaited by the great warriors of history . None of them are aware of pro wrestling 's staged nature
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John knew he was dead. He knew where he was going. He had known it was coming- a strange black bird in a dream had told him signs of what was to come, and when his death would happen. He did n't believe at first, but after the signs started coming true, he prepared. Better safe than sorry. All the necessary arrangements, rituals, proceedings. A meeting with the last Norse high priest for exit vows and pyre arrangements. When the day came, he was ready.
2:30 AM. September 8th, 2015. Sleeping heart attack. When John went to bed that night he knew what would happen, the time, that it would be mostly painless. He felt he should be scared, but he was calm. He recalled his final dinner with WWE buddies that night- Dwayne made the best Beef Stew. With that fond memory his last, he drifted off to sleep, never to wake up in this world again.
John slept for what felt like an eternity. He awoke on a flat surface, cool and hard. His eyes felt glued shut. After a few seconds, he felt a weight lift from his eyes. Upon further inspection of his surroundings, he was in a small stone room. There were rudimentary windows carved into the wall, overlooking the slopes of a great mountain. Clouds stretched off endlessly below him. He heard the wooden door behind him creak open.
`` Hello, Cena the Brave. We've been expecting you.''
The voice was harsh, callous. It rasped like sandpaper across John's ears. John was momentarily confused, but upon looking down discovered the source of the ear-cracking noise. It was a raven, perched on a small stick by the door.
`` Is this Valhalla?'' Cena asked.
`` Yes. The pyre was a bit delayed. But ultimately you made it. I am Odin's greatest messenger, sent to retrieve you. Follow me.''
Cena followed the raven through the perfect stone Hallway. The hallway gave way to a wooden bridge, over looking the endless sea of clouds. Cena had no time to admire the stunning view, however. The raven was briskly continuing up an opulent spiral staircase to the right, into the hill.
At the top of the staircase was a great pair of wooden doors, 12 feet tall. As they slowly opened, a booming voice cried out `` Welcome to Valhalla!''
Inside the doors was a great wooden feasting hall. There were thousands of tables laid out, lit by great chandeliers. Every table was filled with burly warriors The delicious scent of roast mutton wafted by John's nose as he confidently strode through the hall. A great throne held a seemingly giant man. Standing up, the muscled giant revealed his true height to be around 6'7- tall, but not unheard of.
`` John Cena- the greatest warrior to have ever lived- we have heard of your exploits! In amazement we watched tour triumph over the rock Johnson! Over the three H's! Over free verse! And we welcome you!''
Everyone in the hall let out an immense cheer. The great man signaled for them to stop, and the hall fell quiet.
`` I, Odin, God of Gods, name you as commander of my right flank for Ragnarok! Warriors- there is a new commander in town! And his name is JOHN CENA!''
Trumpets blared and The hall erupted into a massive cheer. John was ready to fulfill his destiny.
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[ WP ] In the year 2557 , you 're an expert starship designer . You answer commissions from all over the universe for all kinds of ships , from huge warships to cheap , slow freighters . One day , you get a call from a government agent . He asks for a ship unlike any you 've ever designed before .
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*I have n't actually finished this, but I wanted to post it while it was still relevant*
An angular bulk moved through space. The earth cast a glow over its body, satin finished panels of aluminium alloy painted black and gunmetal. Streaks of orange-white accented its creases and openings. The official name of the vessel was ES FCA-G ( experimental ship, fast counter-attack, gamma revision ). Dan preferred the name Charger. ES FCA-G does n't readily strike fear into the heart of the enemy.
Two months ago he'd received a call. A few days later and a government agent was sat at his design table, with a card full of cash and a ludicrous proposition. He wanted a fast ship. A really fast ship. Dan had argued that all large kinetic and wave-based projectiles moved so fast as to render such a ship pointless, but the agent had a different agenda.
This ship was not to outrun attackers. This ship would be on the other side of the pointy stick. The agent wanted an interceptor capable, through its own propulsion, of catching ships performing a gravity slingshot. A spaceship needs to raise its velocity massively when it exits a solar system, to reduce travel time. Current ships do this by chasing a planet, entering its gravitational field, and escaping just as the planet approaches the far side of the star.
Pirates, warships and fugitives are understandably very fond of the technique. The Apex was to be the fastest ship ever constructed, capable of giving chase to these ships, before eliminating them. Having a large ion thruster array and two chemical boosters, and being able to create it's own fuel by skimming gas giants, …
Thanks for reading: )
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[ WP ] Your conciousness is suddenly sent back to your newborn body .
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You blink, and bright lights shine in your eyes. Your mom's face appears out of nowhere. You can feel no clothes against your skin, and everything feels much bigger. You raise a hand to your face. It appears wrinkled and weak. You ca n't control your own fingers!
You are lifted through the air, and your dad's face appears. He grins, and starts cooing in baby talk. This is n't a dream. You can tell that much. It almost seems like you're a baby again. You try to talk, and it comes out as a gurgle. Weird.
`` Here, let's get a diaper on you.'' Your dad says, setting you down. He straps a diaper over your butt, and hands you back to your mom.
`` You're a quiet one, are n't you?'' A doctor says, out of sight.
`` He is pretty calm.'' Your mom agrees.
You try to protest, but it does n't work. Your mouth has no teeth! You ca n't talk at all! All you can do is make baby noises. Your stomach growls, and you realize that you're starving. You know that your only option is milk. As far as you know, babies cry to tell people that they're hungry. So, that's what you do.
Your mom does n't take long to figure it out. She lifts up her shirt to reveal her breasts, which are both dripping milk. You do n't know what you were expecting, but this is a new sight. You get to suck on your mom's nipples all you want. Come to think of it, babies get away with a lot.
Your mom puts a blanket over you, and you latch on to her left breast. You begin to suck, and milk floods your tiny mouth.
This is good stuff. It fills your stomach quickly, and you stop sucking.
A few minutes later, your bladder fills up. Funny how quickly bodily processes go when you're this small. You feel the urge to find a toilet, and then realize that you have one attatched to you. You let loose, emptying the contented of your bladder in your diaper. It feels warm, and a little bit strange. You're fine with it, though. You've been having a pretty good time as a baby so far. The one thing you do n't understand is hope you got this way. You remember just yesterday, you were on a date with your girlfriend. You can recall a full twenty-three years of normal life. Now, you've been put back at day one. Very strange. You get a whole lot of privileges though. Small and knowledgeable. You could get used to this.
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[ OT ] SatChat : What is the best piece of writing advice you can give ?
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A couple tips that are n't `` write more'' ( which is a great tip, do n't get me wrong ) that deal specifically with drafting, because let's face it, that's where most of us are with our bigger projects:
1 ) Ignore the need to write chronologically. Especially if you're writing from prompts and you see something that triggers a scene, speech, or conflict and you think, `` Oh man, I'd love to use it for a scene coming up; I just have to get there!'' Movies are n't shot in chronological order, there's no reason for you to have to write your first draft in order. If you have a scene, story, conflict or whatever in mind and the thing stopping you is `` getting there,'' write the scene. You can always jump around and go back later.
2 ) One of the things that comes up a lot on /r/writermotivation — Stop comparing your unfinished draft to your favorite work of edited, workshopped, re-written material by a practiced author. Your story is n't a bestseller... *yet*. The act of working on a novel should feel more like working with steel or clay than anything else. Playwrights understand this; it's right there in their title. We do n't call them playwriters. Think of it this way: **stories are not written, they are wrought. ** In other words, if getting from one thought to the next involves a sentence that you know is bad, it's just a placeholder. You can change it. Names are the same way, descriptions, even events. Even if you just write `` blah blah blah'' and it gets you the next 500 words because you know where you want to be, just not how to get there, you can go back and replace the placeholders later.
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[ WP ] `` We did everything you asked , Mr. President . Please put the gun down and release the First Lady . ''
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`` We're broadcasting live, Mr. President, just like you wanted. See? The camera's on. You're talking to the whole nation.''
`` Prove it.'' The gun jabbed against the First Lady's temple. She flinched, her mouth open and trembling, tears rolling down her cheeks. His every breath misted the gunmetal. `` Turn on a TV.'' Short hard pants. `` Show me.''
A screen flickered on, from CNN to Fox News to MSNBC, the same scene constant in the center. The President, one arm across his wife's neck, the gun to her head, her white dress flecked with blood. The scene was well-lit, the camera steady and professional, giving it the same unreal quality of a movie. `` Good.'' The word multiplied, reverbed faintly through the speakers. `` Keep it on. I want to see. I want them to see.''
His eyes swiveled to the camera, a broad idiotic grin unfolding across his face. `` My fellow Americans!'' His voice took on the upswing of a game show host. `` You voted. Your voices were heard! And we are all in this together. We are the *United* - that's right, that's what I said, the *United* States of America.'' His grin froze on his face, his voice dropping. `` We are the worst of us.''
`` Please,'' the First Lady said. `` Please please please please please.'' Her legs were loose, half-dragging across the carpet. Only the arm at her neck kept her upright. Her husband shook his head, grinding his teeth into her shoulder, his hair against her cheek. Bright hot tears welled up in his eyes.
`` I did n't want this,'' he said. `` I did n't want this. I gave you every chance. I gave you bastards every chance to change your mind. But you voted, did n't you, and you made - your will - known!'' His voice rose with every word until he was shouting. `` The Will of the People!'' His eyes bulged, his face beaded with sweat.
`` And now we're going to hell,'' he said. `` All of us, together. The U-N-Ited States of America. We hung apart, and now we're all going to hang together!'' His hand was shaking, the muzzle scraping across his wife's chin. A sniper's scope steadied on his head. `` And you pieces of shit who voted for this in the first place are all going to blame me for it. Blame the goddamn politicians you voted into power. Blame the system that was built, bit by bit, by your own goddamn blood and sweat and apathy.''
In one motion, he shoved his wife forward into the unprepared arms of the Secret Service, sending them stumbling back to catch her as he raised the gun up to his head in a sharp salute. He looked straight into the camera. His eyes were suddenly an unnerving calm. `` Well you wo n't have me to blame any more.''
He pulled the trigger, and though the gunshot sounded around the world, the camera turned away just in time to catch his brains splattering across the Presidential Seal.
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[ WP ] A human colony ship is en route to its destination 122 light years away . To avoid mutiny and crew apathy , the onboard AI convinces the middle generation that everyone lives and dies on the ship . And then someone learns the truth .
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`` Do you still remember our secret?''
Six words, that's all she had to say, and I was transported back in time. I could still feel that easy innocence oozing around us, protecting us in a shell safe from the knowledge that changed our lives.
`` Twenty-two years?'' I asked, `` Has it already been so long?''
***
`` Can you keep a secret?''
That's how she asked me. Of course, for her, my answer was *always* yes.
She took me to the clock room, but I did n't know why. There was nothing interesting in the clock room - it was dusty, dark, and empty except for the single clock embedded on the wall. It was close to midnight, and I was giddy with the excitement of possibility.
*What if we held hands, tonight? What if we* kissed*? *
When I walked in, she standing in the center of the room, outlined in the red glow of the clock. My heart skipped several beats, and it felt like my feet had grown about ten sizes. I concentrated on not tripping over myself, as I walked as *coolly* as I could up to her.
`` How are you doing?'' she asked, her voice laced with sympathy.
I knew what she was referring to.
I stuck out my lower lip, and turned away from her, `` I'm fine. I do n't want to talk about that.''
*Why would she bring* that *up, now? *
She touched my hand, and it felt like I had stuck a finger into an open socket.
`` Did she say anything, before-?''
`` I said I do n't want to talk about it!'' I snapped.
Her face fell, and somehow, *I* ended up apologizing, `` I'm sorry.''
`` No, I'm sorry. It must be hard without her. How's your Dad handling it?''
`` He's fine,'' I lied.
She was n't fooled for a moment. She stared at me, her warm, brown eyes burrowing into my soul.
In big, fat, red numbers, the clock ticked over.
11:44:00
`` Okay!'' I shouted, `` He's not fine. Nobody's fine! She's dead, and I hate her for leaving me!''
I stood up, and screamed with every last molecule of air in my lungs, `` *I hate her, I hate her! *''
She stood up too, and wrapped her arms around me. It was like I was made of butter, and she was an ion engine. I melted against her, and just like that, the tears started. Not even her gentle voice could stop them.
11:51:00
There was more snot on her shirt, than on mine. When I pulled away, a string of saliva stretched impossibly long, like a spool of thread that connected us forever.
It snapped. She laughed.
`` I'm sorry, that was just so *gross. *''
I laughed too.
`` Did she...'' she started, and bit her lip.
`` Did she what?''
`` Did she say anything?''
`` Yeah,'' I looked down at my feet, `` But it did n't make any sense. I think she was n't, you know...'' I gestured vaguely at my head.
My body shuddered, though it was n't that cold, and she wrapped her arms around me again. She shushed me, and we swayed in each other's embrace.
11:58:00
She tapped rapidly on my shoulder.
`` It's going to happen soon.''
`` What is?''
`` You'll see. I've been coming here for half a year, and it happens every night at the same time. Just watch the clock.''
It was hard for me not to stare at her lips, or the gentle curve of her nose, or her hair - glowing like a halo in the red light.
11:59:58
11:59:59
ERR: TMINUS22YEARS
00:00:01
00:00:02
It was like someone had stabbed a needle into my heart. My jaw fell open.
`` Did you see it?'' she asked, tapping me on the shoulder, `` Did you see it?''
I nodded, my mouth still hanging wide.
`` I've been coming up here for half a year, now! It used to say 23 years, but now it only says 22. I wonder what it's counting down to. I've been scraping my brain for ideas-''
I put a hand out, and stopped her.
`` I know.''
`` You... you do?'' her brows arched, and she settled those big, brown eyes on me again.
`` My mother... she said... she was talking about the AI. She said it was *broken. * She said,'you'll be a grown man, when you find out.' I thought she had lost her mind...''
She put her hand in mine, and our fingers intertwined.
`` She said,'Twenty more years. Not as long as you think.' She just repeated that over and over, until she left.''
***
We stood in front of the doors, our ancient pressure-suits ready for come what may, our gloved hands clasped together.
`` Twenty-two years?'' I asked, `` Has it already been so long?''
She looked up at me, her warm, brown eyes staring into mine, `` Not as long as you think, right?''
`` Not as long as you think.''
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[ WP ] You just got turned into a vampire recently and you are very thirsty for human blood but you have hemophobia
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How do you think vampires were made? Personally, i like to thin someone had sex with a corpse. Namely the devil in the moment of a sick twisted fantasy along the lines of'oh hey, i know what i will do today! Ill unleash a new horror into the night that will haunt humans and spread terror!'
Sounds legitimate i guess. I mean, unstoppable monster preying on people and draining their blood, wreaking havoc. Pure evil.
But i guess he, or she, or it or whatever it is or identifies as may or may not have seen a slight problem.
Lets start at the start.
So Leticia is probably one of the most beautiful women - i want to say things, because vampire but im a nice guy. Anyway, Leticia is probably four thousand years old, she cant even remember her actual real name. And after a while, i guess age becomes irrelevant right?
But serious, how does a several thousand year old vampire stay 1 ) under the radar 2 ) out of the sun 3 ) in plenty supply of blood?
Easy - you establish a cross generational, multi age spanning cult following that worships your vampire creating, soul harvesting evil lord of darkness.
I guess if your family climbs those ranks high enough one of you gets the perks - immortality. Sweet gig right?
One small problem. Minor, maybe major. Lets call it a'mijor' problem. Ok, im kidding myself its a big problem.
When i first woke up i woke up feeling absolutely parched - like i had just had sandpaper dragged through my undead throat. Not a gratifying feeling.
So anyway, i decided it wasnt such a bad idea to go on a hunt with Leticia. I knew id need an old hand to give me pointers on things like neck snapping, debonair hissing styles and that mysterious cocksure grin.
But thats kind of when it went to crap - look, in my defence Leticia said the transformation would take care of it. So if you were wondering, no a several thousand year old near deity figure does not know everything.
Do i feel sorry for the woman that i tried to eat? I feel sorry for my shirt, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get blood out of silk?
And seriously, screaming? Come on, its not stephen king. Just shut it, ill be gentle.
But i swear to unholiness - this was not how i remembered thai food, the screaming cat or dog was usually muffled by the psychopathic little masseuse thai woman with a cleaver. I was sort of like the fumbling nerdy white kid in your gym class that struggled to hold a baseball bat.
And wow, did i get dizzy at the blood spatter. You know - i dont think the devil had this planned, evil minions of darkness fainting at blood.
Can you imagine that? If Leticia hadnt been there and i had woken up to a sundried vampire corpse?
Oh vampires? People would say. No, theyre easy - just throw blood at them. Thatll teach them!
I guess i can see how both the vampire community would thank and curse me for that.
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[ IP ] Ten horrifying images to choose from !
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Mermaid Lamnidae
When I lost Agnes I thought it would be the end of me. We had been together for years, since we were young and virginal, and the day she died tore a part of me away that I simply could not fill. I suffered for years at the hands of loss, never so much as looking upon another woman, until one lucky night I was looking out over the waters on the deck of the Meridian and my eye caught a golden glow along the black waters.
She was the most beautiful woman I ’ d ever seen. Perched on a piece of rock jutting up from the coastal ocean ’ s surface, her lean body was outstretched to boast every inch of alabaster perfection. Her long golden hair blew lazily in the wind, and I could see her turn to meet my gaze even through the distance we shared.
It was not long before I had rallied the crew in a frenzy, the men responding to my desperate calls for a man overboard, and when I returned the deck to point her out there was nothing but long golden hair draped over the jagged edges jutting out of the dark sea. I was absolutely panicked; I had felt things for this woman I hadn ’ t felt since Agnes, and to see her lost would be another blow my heart could not handle. We did what we could think of quickest and cast a net.
As we pulled the catch in, her golden strands of hair reflecting upon the moonlight above the sea, things began to change. She grew closer and the illuminated strands of hair faded to a muddy dark green, the glow that surrounded her darkening with every inch pulled nearer. My heart sunk to the depths of my soul.
The net was hoisted overboard, and the monstrosity caught in place of my golden goddess was sickening. Webbed hands and a large, strong tail replaced the soft, gentle limbs I had seen. A huge mouth filled with pointed teeth adorned the bald head of the horrid creature we ’ d taken aboard, and the jaws began to part as the thing emitted a harsh, broken sound.
Was that….a laugh?
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[ WP ] I 've been stranded on this planet for a year now , and I 've noticed my body is changing ...
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It's been a thrilling, yet slow-paced change. It's been just one year on this planet, and I can feel myself growing more intelligent by the day. It's infuriating, though. The more I learn, the less the world around me, their world, seems to make sense.
My body is getting longer, slimmer, growing at an unnatural pace, and I fear I do n't have much time. Every moment that passes I can feel myself becoming more like Them.
There are others like me. I encounter them occasionally, by chance, but we have no means of communicating. Just a brief connection before I'm wrapped back into the world of Them.
I'm immobilized in this world, but I'm adapting quickly. One of Them lifts me up and places me in a caged seat. I try to speak, to communicate clearly, but they coo at me.
`` Aww, you little cutie! It's dinner time sweetie, open your mouth for Grandma. Say ahhh!'' She moves the utensil toward my face in a zagging motion as if it were flying.
I'm still striving to understand the Them.
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[ PI ] Salty - upvotedcontest
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I'm very torn about this story. I really like the lens idea, and I did enjoy that last sentence very much. The self conversation was great, the turmoil in her head felt real.
BUT I feel like I'm missing something. I feel like a piece of the story is gone where the person she seemed to have been fighting with for some time, just walks in without any trace of that fight from her side.
I can understand the bond of friendship overcoming any and all fights, but this seemed a little abrupt. Maybe if we knew something about the other person, or why she acts like there's no fight at all. Or I'm just missing something obvious.
All in all, great story, except for that one point nice narrative and killer last line.
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[ FF ] 100 words to make me hate a character . 100 words to make me come to love them . 100 words to crush my soul as you kill them .
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Liam winced as the faggot walked by. Lest he catch it, like an infectious disease, he side-stepped to the left while walking down the Boston sidewalk. A few steps later, he could n't help but look back. The man's bright blue shirt dissipated into the distance.
God. Fucking, no good... queer.
It was a queer like that who had taken him by the hand last June. Showed him his vinyl record collection and traced figure eights on the skin of his back as they lay in bed with the window open. Stupid mistake. Crickets singing in the yard and everything feeling so very right. Stupid fucking mistake.
Because now what? He felt the harsh January wind against his cheeks, thinner by the day since the disease had started to eat away at his body. He shivered and pulled his jacket tighter across his chest. What a stupid fucking mistake.
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[ WP ] A lonely individual in the shadows nursing a wound .
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The liver is a curious contraption indeed. Just about 3.5 pounds in weight, reddish-brown in color, and semi-triangular in shape, it performs miracles in the right upper quadrant of the abdominal cavity. It is a conjurer of the most potent variety; importer of toxins, exporter of bile, abode of glycogen.
My liver has seen more than most, he is a veteran of battles across oceans of ethanol, a sturdy battleship who has seen better days and dreams of being mothballed when he sleeps at night. But that is spurious drivel; he can have no such dreams, for there are conflicts erupting faster than he can spot - he steams full-speed-ahead at all times, general quarters blaring through his loudspeakers.
As his Captain, I take full responsibility; I am he who guides him across those waters - from the Lake of Cognac, down the River Absinthe, through the Vodka Delta, to Gin Bay and then the Moonshine Sea. They have been rough for us both, but as I lean crumpled here in the shadows, I laugh with him as we contemplate his impending, untimely demise.
Most untimely, most lamentable - for he now ails not by the cirrosis of our waterborne adventures but rather by an affliction of a more acute sort. He has been broadsided, a jagged knife pierced through his armor and bleeding his magic dry through a perforation in my skin. Magic, oh magic, the magic that has so reliably steered me ahead as pleasure becomes misery becomes pleasure becomes numbness.
It is him and me now, we are marooned in a desert of land, but nearby I can sense an oasis. In the dark I grapple - where did I put it? The magic, it could be so near....
Ah, there it is. A toast! My friend, one last voyage for you, for us.
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[ wp ] You are the Avatar . Master of all elements . You are currently on element 19 of 98 currently known , and are learning from the feet of the Grand Potassium Bender .
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`` Okay I think I'm getting the hang of this potassium bending.''
`` Very good -- as expected from the Avatar, one who will master all the elements. It will only be a matter of time before you master this element as well.''
`` What should I do with all this potassium I have accumulated?''
`` Oh feel free to toss it aside. I'm going to show you an infamous technique that I have safeguarded for several years. As you may know, potassium reacts with water. With enough potassium, you could very well destroy the entire Water nation, but be warned that water benders can use your potassium against you. I will show you how to fend yourself off so that you may get the better of them. Get ready Avatar, because very few have been successful in mastering this technique, but I believe you can.''
`` Oh sorry I was n't listening. I chucked the potassium I accumulated in the direction of the river. What were you saying?''
`` Wait wha-'' BOOM. The end.
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[ WP ] Space Pirates
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We're Space Pirates,
And we're here to say
Give us your Gold
Or your guts we'll flay
With booty galore
We'll leave your planetary shore
Away we'll sail
To continue our tale
We travel the stars
And gather some scars
In battles we fight
By distant star light
The Galaxy
Is our ocean, you see?
So give up ye booty,
Or we make with the shooty
Your Treasures you'll surrender
Or we are going to end yah!
-- -- --
`` Well, what do you think?'' The young author asked nervously. The publisher sighed.
`` I like the Pirate theme, Mr Stephenson, and this Long John Silver character intrigues me. But really, *Space* Pirates? If you could keep to this world, and get rid of the songs, I think we can have a deal.''
The author glumly agreed to the conditions. *But* he thought to himself, *they'll never get rid of Captain Smollet as a frog. And as for the love affair between him and Benjamina the castaway pig, why that's a love affair for the ages. * Cheered up by the thought his original script would n't *entirely* be re-written, he strolled down the street, humming `` Space Pirates'' under his breath.
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[ WP ] A chimney sweep and his best friend a gargoyle sit on the edge of a building , having a conversation .
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“ You haven ’ t… ”
Grant shook his head. “ Shut up. You know that it ’ s true. Don ’ t try to make me feel better. ”
It shifted its eyes as much as it could but its expression remained stoic as always. Grant used to like that about his friend. Sam didn ’ t change and there was comfort in the routine. He could tell him anything and it was just the same snarling expression. It brought him peace.
But not today. He could feel that Sam wanted to be comforting but he simply couldn ’ t.
“ She ’ ll come back. She always come back. ”
Grant put a hand on the lion ’ s neck and rested his head against the side of the building. They ’ d had this conversation a dozen times and Sam knew that his small bits of encouragement were a waste of breath. Lily wasn ’ t coming back this time. She took the kids and moved back with her mother. It was over. He ’ d lost it all.
“ No, not this time. I just quit. ”
Sam sighed. “ No. You didn ’ t… ”
Grant took a deep breath to keep from crying. “ It was over. It ’ s all over. ”
“ No, ” Sam said. “ Stop saying things like that. ”
Grant buried his head in his hands. “ You ’ re all I have left. You ’ re the only person that hasn ’ t left me. ”
“ You don ’ t mean that. ”
“ It ’ s true, ” he said. “ I ’ ve lost everything but you. ”
Grant looked down at the street below. Ten stories up would be enough to break his neck. It would enough to end it all.
“ What are you trying to say? ”
His chest ached as he struggled to find the words to say to his only friend left in the world. Sam had seen it all and still had faith. Two hundred years of knowledge and he still believed in a failing chimney sweep.
“ I can ’ t do it anymore, ” Grant said.
“ Grant, please, you can ’ t, ” Sam said, his voice more frantic.
He looked down at the rushover traffic of the early morning. Fifteen years of staring down at those people had made him feel disconnected. Not a soul would care that he was gone.
“ I have to, ” he said.
Sam couldn ’ t move. All he could was stare in horror as he only friend stepped towards the ledge. “ Please, dont! ” he shouted.
Grant shut his eyes. “ Thank you. ”
“ No, ” Sam said.
He sat there, helpless, as Grant ’ s feet dipped over the ledge. In a split-second, he was gone. For a brief moment, he remained alive as his friend ’ s soul lurched towards the ground. He felt his body hardened back to stone as the sickening crunch of his friend ’ s body echoed below.
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[ WP ] As you approach a Convenient Store , you see a no one in sight in the desolate store . You notice a door in the back of the store labeled `` Employees Only '' being slightly open .
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Frank was supposed to be working tonight, it's chilly, well below freezing, and the fresh fallen snow is relaxing. Now, most people would be at home still, and given the late hour, sleeping soundly in their beds, or maybe staying up to watch a movie on Netflix or whatever. Not me, I was hungry, had no power at home, and Frank was a good friend. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and watched another puff of my breathe float up in front of my face, the snow crunching underfoot with every step.
I glanced upwards, seeing the front lights of the corner store gleaming out onto the empty parking lot, that stupid neon `` OPEN'' sign flashing obnoxiously and reflecting off of the ice. Not a soul in sight, not surprising really. I let forth a chuckle, and looked into the windows expecting to see Frank leaned against the counter, playing on his phone. Instead, I was greeted by an eery sight; absolutely no movement in the store, no signs of life, nothing.
`` Could have gone for a smoke break'' I said quietly to myself, deciding to go check around back for him.
I turned the corner to the back of the store and see the Employee entrance door propped open by a milk crate. I chuckle again and head towards it, trying to keep my footing on the ice curb that's formed from the drip line of the roof. Reaching the door I ignore the `` Employees Only'' sign on the outside of the door and go into the warmer interior of the building.
`` Frank!'' I called out, `` You in here buddy?''
`` Yeah, one sec!'' I hear a female voice call back. That's odd, it should have been Frank tonight, it's Wednesday, Frank always works graveyards on Wednesdays.
Unfortunately, before I could respond again the back door I had entered through slammed shut, followed by a large pipe smashing into the back of my head. My limp body slammed into the wall first, then slumped to the floor.
-- -
First attempt... Please be gentle.
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[ WP ] It is revelation . Satan and the armies of hell attack , only to discover that our technological advancement has allowed us to put up a decent fight .
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After an agonizing eternity, finally it was time.
`` RIDE''. A soundless order to the four who had waited so patiently.
The white horseman flew forth, and from his mouth flew a myriad of diseases. Smallpox, measles, chickenpox and polio blanketed the world. Humanity continued on, impervious. The white horseman slunk away in confusion.
The red horseman flew forth, and from his mouth echoed the horn of war, to call nations to fight one another... but they already were. The red horseman slunk away in defeat.
The black horseman flew forth, and from his mouth came devouring insects to consume all the food of the world. But as they approached, they began to die off, or were off-put by the changed crops. The black horseman slunk away in wonder.
The pale horseman looked upon the world, saw its medicine and its science and moved not.
I CAN WAIT. Said death.
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( WP ) A mentally ill superhero tries to stop a petty crime .
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Tall, long blonde hair, blue eyes. A pair of powder blue medical scrubs, a glittering purple eye mask, bare feet. The Scrubber.
That was what she called herself when she left home every evening. Always watching and always wary. She was possessed of great strength and speed.
She was strolling the sidewalk, most people ignoring her or giving her a nice berth. That was when she spotted him. An older man in his sixties crossing the street.
Middle of the street. No markings or signs. Jaywalking.
She watched wide-eyed and started trembling. Then she let out a desperate, terrified scream. She screamed as she chased him, screamed as she tackled him to the ground, and screamed as she threw him into a parked car.
As the man groaned and tried to shield himself on the ground with a broken arm, she continued to hover over him and scream. Trying in her way to impress n the bleeding senior the importance of traffic laws. Then they grabbed her.
Just some do-gooder citizens. She struggled with all her strength but more joined in. Even she could n't escape this many. She trembled, convulsed, and screamed until the ambulances arrived.
As the old man was loaded onto one, a young man in white stepped over to her struggling form and stuck a needle in her neck. She immediately calmed down, save for heavy breathing, and they loaded her into the other ambulance.
She put up no resistance as they undressed her and slipped her into a straight jacket. One of the men just shook his head as they belted her in.
`` You need to stop this, Linda. It always gets you sent back to the rubber room...''
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[ WP ] When you wish upon a shooting star , it comes true . But the damage the star causes when it crashes is equal to the size of the wish .
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You'd likely be surprised by the sizes of craters. Most of them are simple dents in cars, researchers pondered for years what the wish could have been- what would someone want so frequently and would cause such a minor amount of damage? Luckily wishing on a star was an easy way for the trial and error method to take place, even if it was costly in some scenarios. Would you like to know what the dent causing wish is? Too bad, we'll get to that, first I want to tell you a little history of my career.
I started out as just another astronomy student, minoring in history as they frequently do, until she came around. I had n't spent much time with girls through my younger years, not romantically anyway, but she was different. She traveled. She cooked. She refused to wish on a star, she said it was a cop-out and whatever someone wants to achieve they should work for. This coincided with a hatred of religion, no one could deny there was a higher power logging each wish and divying out the corresponding range of explosions. The 50s were a time spent running statistics on the size of craters and the number of wishes and where they're craters hit. Turns out the distance of the crater from the wisher was correlated to the size of the explosion, it was just far enough not to prevent the wish so if you wanted a dog, and it showed up at your door step the crater was likely to be just down the street and perhaps the size of a manhole cover. See, all sciency and stuff.
There have been rules inherited by society about these wishes though. No one wished for world domination because it simply ended badly, there was one man who tried recently, Hitler, he succeeded for a little while but the crater that wish caused sang Argentina. Obviously this angered a lot of people and a war started with the sole goal of ending his life. He tried to wish the opposition away but generals and captains simply wished more frequently and more strategically, it was like calling in bomb strikes once they could determine the likely impact spot. Battlefields were stuffed with craters and smoldering rocks, some tricky soldiers would stand a few feet from an enemy, wish for their death and quickly tackle them and try to push them to the impact location. The allied forces won this way, and we now have a shooting star treaty- all wishes must be discussed if they cause a crater greater than five feet around. i'm going to assume you have a second question now- what does a five foot wide crater get me exactly? Most things: a decent career, straight A's all through school, a new car, protection from a natural disaster... that's actually a good reference point for you all to understand how impactful, see what i did there, these wishes are- no one has died from a tornado, hurricane, flood, earthquake or drought in nearly two centuries according to the records. Death by meteors is way up though.
This is where I come in, you see recorded history is somewhat sketchy due to the constant explosions. There are a few craters that are simply too huge to fathom- some are similar in size to the crater where Argentina used to be, others are far bigger. It's speculated that the poles are both giant craters left from a time before the crater rider came. The crater rider was the first man to wish for his resurrection, he has some followers and they all want to do what he did, or at least go where he went but that's one of the few things wishing on a star ca n't pull off. He's yet to be explained, anymore its written off as a myth or its believed so hard that people visit a certain complex just to wish to find out this crater rider's secrets. It's an odd game.
Back to the big craters though- I try and determine what could have caused them. I'm writing this down while sitting on the edge of one in South America. It's two thousand feet wide. Would you care to guess what the diameter of the Argentina crater was? Yeah only fifteen hundred feet across. If it was purely a function of death tolls to feet across that would be close to one billion people. The girl I was so enthralled with would be laughing at me, she'd probably suffocate from all the laughter, because I think this crater is something bigger than man, I think it's the first wish ever. I think its the creation of fire.
There have been lots of opinions thrown about, some think its Gengis Khan's wish to rule all of Asia, and to have his children continue in his stead. Legacy makes this a tricky one to predict because we have yet to determine if the child has to wish for the legacy to continue or if the father's wish includes it, everyone seems to think the wishes are purely for the singular person, which is why an invention would be a way to circumnavigate this. If you ask for something that will effect the world so much that it is still used almost a millennia later, that's a pretty big wish. You're changing the course of history. Another fun opinion is that it did cause a billion deaths, and researchers think this crater was the wish that started the Black Plague or something very similar like smallpox, I just do n't think the numbers work out for that. Neither did she. Tracy, I suppose its a name that wo n't mean much to you- but to me it's nearly everything. I wanted her. Not just like any other boy wants a girl, no I wanted to support her- so I set out to do just that. I still refuse to wish for her. That's what brings me here now, writing in this crater, I've yet to be with her-I set out to achieve some notoriety in the world first, to kind of win her hand. Do it like she always said and win off my merits and mental sweat- but she passed away last night. She was hit by a meteor, I have n't decided if that's ironic for her- certainly tragic. I wo n't get the chance to do it now, to love her like I wanted. I just wish she loved me.
( new page, its only been a few minutes but I have to separate this memory ) A tiny meteor burned through my journal. Embers charred a small corner of it, all the way through. It looks to be the same size meteor that causes all those dents in cars. One of the other guys working on the crater came out to me and waved me into the tent. I'd received an email, one that somehow locked up all the other computers until I typed in my password and opened it. Some of the nerdier astronomers tried to hack past it but there did n't seem to be any code causing it was just happening.
I opened the email, expecting to have all my credit cards stolen or my mother kidnapped but... it was just a letter. From Tracy. Well a draft of a letter or a journal that she wrote or something like that- it was rough, that's the point of my word jumble over this. It was addressed to me. And it started very simply- `` I love you.'' It went on for a few pages about how she regretted losing contact, and the date stamp of the last edit was three days before she died. She'd also wrote she was about to buy tickets to come to the crater, she just had to save up from work since, despite how much she cared about me, could n't wish for them. She did n't want to hurt another person by being selfish. She'd hate to cause an accident with the impact of her wish. There you have it, it was ironic. She'd have been safe if she'd just lived like everyone else, by wishing her troubles away, but that's why I wanted her. To think I would have only caused a dent if I'd wished for her so long ago.
( Water marks bleed across the last line of ink in the journal. )
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[ WP ] It 's the wild west . It 's the Purge . It 's High Noon and you 're still in the saloon .
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The barkeep kept just kept twisting a dirty towel in the glass. `` Listen bucko, you should probably make yourself scarce. We got ourselves an old fashioned purge bout to take place on this *HICCUP* day, and you do n't wan na find yerself caught in the streets or a public place like this here saloon. I do n't know how they do it in Cleveland where yer from, but I'd get own and get if I was you.'' He spit a dirty wad of spit on the the ground a put the glass down to pour a warm, foul, whiskey. It was obviously this guy was all about participating in the purge. You can smell it on him. There was murder in the hot, musky air of the saloon, and the barkeep was fixin' to add poor ol' J. Hamilton to his purge list, a list that was a good 12 men ( and boys ) long.
J. Hamilton tipped his hat even lower than it already was, like *very low. He snatched up the half-way clean glass of Tennessee slammer and slam jammer hammered it down his throat with authority. The burn felt good. J. Hamilton grumbled, `` I guess you have n't figured it out yet...'' The clickity clocking of the big clock tower tick tocked to 11:59 o'clock, one minute from Purge. From beyond the saloon, the sheriff marched down the street. `` ALRIGHT YA YELLA BELLIED SONS A BITCHES, PURGE STARTS AT HIGH NOON AND AND RUNS TIL MIDNIGHT! DURING SUCH, ALL MANNER OF CRIME SHALL BE LEGAL WHICH INCLUDES MURDER. HOLE IN YA HOMES OR COME OUT AND RELEASE YOUR PENT UP RAGE. ONLY THE LORD SHALL PROTECT YA NOW, HAHAHA!'' His laughing was cutoff by the slamming of a heavy sounding wood door. The barkeep pulled a sawed-off shotgun out from under the bar. `` Last chance, friendo'' he said as his lips curled into a sinister, toothy smile. He pulled back the hammer and rotated the gun which sat on the bartop at J. Hamilton. *GONG* Noon. A shot fired in the saloon. J. Hamilton was on the floor of the saloon unharmed pointing two big, fat, meaty pistols at the pulpy remains of the barkeep's head. His body stood upright for a second squirting blood everywhere. It then reached for the bottle of whiskey, poured itself a glass in J. Hamilton's cup and tried to take a drink with its nonexistent mouth. Then the body flopped over and thudded like a sack of rocks onto the ground. J. Hamilton, who is now also smoking two cigars, rolled them from one corner of his mouth to the other. It was purgin' time and he was ready to really purge it up big time.
J. Hamilton boot blasted the swingin' saloon doors right off their hinges to see how things were going in this first minute of his favorite time of the year. Already, there were dudes rapin' girls, girls rapin' guys, a big fat blob of a man pitchforkin' some kids, people running scared outta their wits, some gun fights, a man on fire, and the sheriff in the clock tower takin' pot shots at all the chumps below. J. Hamilton could n't help but smile. Would he want it any other way?
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[ WP ] After a tremendous economic collapse , experts have realized that the world 's current finances are not enough to support all the existing countries . In response , the United Nations has arranged a high-stakes poker game in which world leaders are playing with their country 's national wealth .
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Several big names had fallen early. Trump ( `` With this name, how could I lose?'' ) went all in four hands into the game and was trumped himself - Putin's straight to the American's three kings.
The table was almost empty now. Only those with the biggest pockets, or Lady Luck on their side, remained. James Bond surveyed his competition and silently savoured the thrill of the game.
Putin was still in, playing a daring but calculated game. The ticker tape at the bottom of the live feed had taken to calling him the Russian lion, between announcements about the uprisings in numerous cities across the globe. Opposite him was Merkel. She had made big gains from the small fish, but she was slowly bleeding chips to the bigger sharks. The German chancellor was the big blind on this hand, and she pushed her 100 million dollar chip across the table looking as green as the felt.
As the only non head of state left playing, Bond was seated at the far end of the table. He looked impassively at the two cards flicked his way by the dealer, Ban Ki-moon. A two and a jack.
The secretary general turned over three cards in the center of the table. A nine, a king, and another two.
Xi Jinping was the little blind. He would have to fork out another 50 million chip to stay in the hand, but he had deep pockets. Netanyahu and Lee Hsien Loong folded.
Putin glanced down at his cards again. There. Bond thought he saw it again. Had that been his tell?
`` Raise,'' the Russian said, pushing a half billion chip across the table.
All eyes turned to Bond.
Bond held Putin's gaze, and casually tossed one of the big gold chips onto the felt.
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*Read more of my stories at* /r/jd_rallage
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[ WP ] You meet a person online and become good friends . One day , they just stop talking to you , and two years later , they show up on your doorstep , covered in blood , whispering `` They 're coming for you.. they 're coming for you next . ''
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It always annoyed David when people showed up unannounced, especially in the evening. Regardless, he hit pause and stood up, ready to put an end to that relentless banging.
He opened the door, and in the darkness stood a short, chunky fellow, gazing up at him.
`` Hi...'' said David, wearily.
`` David, They're coming, for you... they're coming for you next.''
`` Who's they? Who are you? What's that all down your shirt?''
`` It's me, Glen, remember?''
`` Um, no I'm afraid I do n't''
`` Ladiesman822, from Warcraft!'' exclaimed the restless stranger on the doorstep.
`` Oh wow, ofcourse, Glen how are you, how've you been?'' replied David, surprised.
Glen reached in closer and grabbed David by the collar. `` Listen, we do n't have much time, they're coming right now, you need to run!''
David pulled back slightly, releasing the grip of the clearly unstable man. He always found him to be a slightly odd fellow based on their adventures online, but this was part of his charm. It's why they remained in contact for such a long time. David recalled feeling a strange sense of loss from the day when Glen stopped signing on. Glen was always in a good mood, which sharply contrasted David, who was not. After they lost contact David never had the regular cheery encounters anymore, and as a result became even more reserved.
Anyway, David had moved on and had no desire to continue this encounter. Fifteen seconds of this was more than enough.
`` Listen Glen, the new episode of The Walking Dead is on, and I really need to get back to it. It was nice seeing you again.''
The door closed behind him, and David returned to the Sofa. As he reached for the remote, the thumping began again. He was beginning to become annoyed at this point. David sat for a moment, considering whether to just leave him out there, surely he would give up and go away eventually? After what seemed like an eternity, he got to his feet and headed for the door. Just as he exited the living room, the banging stopped. David continued towards the door; it would probably be wise to lock it now anyway as it was getting late. Upon arrival, he reached out and pulled the handle, just to make sure the crazy had left and was n't climbing up a drainpipe.
As the door swung open, he glanced out, seeing only the flickering of a nearby faulty street light. As he scanned the rest of the scene, he thought he saw a glimmer of light by a parked van across the road.
Then, only darkness.
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[ WP ] All of the worlds I 've visited have faded and the new are less vivid
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Dear Journal,
Tonight was Soup Night. I hate Soup Night. Never enough flavor, nothing like Martha's, savory and hearty with the occasional sliced jalapeno. She'd put them in my soup whenever she was upset with me. Neither of us liked spicy food, but she started growing them in the garden just for me. Even if you went back through all 40 years of our marriage to find our worst fight, I'd still take a bowl of that over the crap they serve us here every Sunday.
My counselor says I should write in this thing more often, but I never know what to say, I'm not a writer. Martha was the one who could write. She kept a journal, too, several actually. But she asked me to never read them, so I did n't, and after she passed, I took the box with me here. I did n't trust the kids to keep their promise, so better in my hands I figured. I mean, I trusted them to pick me out a good `` home'', and we saw how that turned out.
But I know if I stayed in the house I'd be driven mad by now. During her last good months, Martha would say, `` Memories can be cruel reminders of how beautiful things once were.'' In that respect, Alzheimer's must've been God's way of going easy on us.
Anyways, I know the point of this is to write things down to remind myself later, but what does it matter? All the good stuff, the traveling, the struggling, the loving, the crying, everything from our `` Tender Twenties'' to our `` Salty Sixties'' as Martha liked to call them, everything in between is gone, and all that's left to look forward to is a bland, pale green bowl of Soup Night. No flavor, no spice, just Soup Night. I hate Soup Night.
John
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[ WP ] Someone living on the recently colonised Mars falls in love with someone on Earth . There are no return trips .
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Sunlight skips off the soft curves of the wave-less tide, while the wind rolls gently along side carrying the sea breeze to shore. A few remaining children wade in the shallows as the setting sun consumes them in pastels, splashing and laughing the try to ignore their mothers and fathers beckoning them, for it is time to go home.
“ Would you miss it? ”
“ Of course I would. ”
Two young men lay sprawled on the beach as the world dims and their surroundings quiet. The first of the nightly stars begins to outshine the sun, and the moon has taken its pedestal in the sky.
“ You ’ d never be able to do this again, ”
“ That ’ s for sure, ”
The blue-black sky expanded into forever, endlessly preying on the thoughts of those below. The crickets settled on their choice of symphony for the evening.
“ There she is! ” Chris pointed to a small red dot hiding amongst the stars, “ Good thing the moons not full tonight or we couldn ’ t see her. ”
This time Jake didn ’ t respond, his eyes fixated on the petit red dot in the dark sea.
“ You know, it may look like you have a choice, Jake, but I don ’ t really think you do. ”
“ Why ’ s that? ” Jake ’ s eyes remained tethered to the red dot.
“ Well, you know they only do these voyage things every four years or so they expand the habitat. Do you really think she ’ ll wait that long?
“ I ’ m not sure. ” Jake sighed and closed his eyes, but he could still see the planet in the darkness of eyelids.
“ I ’ m gon na miss you man, ” Chris was having trouble thinking of comforting things to say.
“ I haven ’ t even decided if I ’ m going yet. ”
“ Yeah but I know you, and rather than regret saying no to this girl, you ’ d rather leave everything here behind. Don ’ t worry man we can still video chat like you do with her. ”
“ It ’ s more like video mail, since it takes a little while to receive what the other says. ”
“ Either way. ”
“ I don ’ t know man I don ’ t want— “
“ You got ta let go of Ashley man, she ’ s further away than Eva is ever going to be ”
“ I didn ’ t even say anything about Ashley, ”
“ Yeah but you were like going to say something like ‘ I don ’ t want to give everything up for someone who could leave me anyway ’. You ’ ve already been talking to her for like 5 years, I don ’ t think she ’ s going anywhere, she CAN ’ T go anywhere. ” Chris chuckled.
“ Can we just not talk about it for a minute? ” Jake sat up and pulled a bottle out of the cooler next them.
“ Sure, man, coming out here to see Mars was entirely your idea, I thought you wanted me to come along to talk about it, ”
“ I wanted you to come to be here for me. ”
“ I know, but the application deadline is tomorrow. ”
“ I said can we stop?
“ Sure, man, ” Chris sat up as well and gestured towards the cooler.
It wasn ’ t long before the two friends were stumbling drunk around the beach reminiscing of their childhood together; laughing, crying, yelling, and a few attempts at punching. Every few minutes or so Jake would look up into the night sky and watch the little red dot hang there; the woman of his dreams lived in the sky, so far away from him, so far away from everything that he knew.
“ Hey, Chris, ” Jake stopped and looked out across the ocean.
“ Yeah? ”
“ When people left to settle America, they left everything behind for a new life, and it took a few months to arrive.
Kinda sounds like my predicament, doesn ’ t it? ”
“ Yeah it does, but you know what they all had in common with you? ”
“ What?
“ They were all pursuing something they loved, something that was worth risking everything else for. You know, the mars colonization program isn ’ t advanced enough to send people back yet, but in the future I think will change, the same way it did for sea travel. It will get easier you know? Millions of miles or not I ’ m always going to be your best friend you know? But I was lucky enough to find the women of my dreams here, and I got ta tell you man: nothing in this world compares to what It feels like to really love someone. So why does it matter that you stay in it? ”
Jake looked up at the little red dot once more, and closed his eyes, but instead of seeing the red dot pictured on the insides of his eyelids, it was blue. He smiled and opened his eyes to see his friend having toppled to the ground, scribbling in the sand with his fingers, completely satisfied with their nonsensical design.
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[ CW ] In the style of Dr. Seuss , describe current events .
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Oh, the things that they'll see! With their cameras online,
They'll know where you'll be, they'll not miss a fine,
They'll see when you're dancing, they'll see where you drink,
They'll watch where you're glancing, you'll watch what you think.
Politicians proposing preposterous proposals,
Waiting while wanting and watching their workers,
Who wither and wonder while watchers grow wealthy,
The people protected, all paupers a'plenty.
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Oh the things that they'll hear! Their ears through the air,
They listen for laughter with lists on and after
They'll link all the laughter to liaisons unlawful,
Til everyone finds and defines stranger awful,
Afraid of the passing proximity of people,
Hiding from hearing whoever has hoped,
For happiness free from pervasive protection.
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Oh the things that they'll find! From their data mines,
Digging deep down under our future's foundations,
Beseeching,'' We act for the good of the nation,''
For the good of the now, for the good of inflation,
For the good of their pact with commercialisation,
Why do they want your pictures of cats?
You personal chats about cravats worn with hats?
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Oh the things that you'll mind! When you find what they've mined,
Your treasure not treasured by whoever must sift,
Through data and datum, a strata of nada,
Til something will stick the the wall of the watchers,
They'll sift it and shift it from private to public,
An offhanded comment on some obscure sub-topic,
Or a download from pirates, for movies and music?
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Oh the things that you'll fear! When you hear what they've heard,
The stories and facts all twisted and blurred,
A word you once trusted now churns out your fears,
Your thoughts now adjusted, the smoke never clears,
The war never ends, on drugs and on terror,
on peace and on freedom, on truth and wherever
It is that you hide, the government hears,
It pricks up its ears, it ca n't let you decide.
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Oh the things that you'll flee! If you open your eyes,
Surrounded and silenced, not raring to rise.
If you dare make a stand, and share your demands,
Will the right people listen? Will the right people stir?
The left-overs living listless, forlorn,
Or the watchers who wait for a break from the norm?
So the question remains, when the time has run out,
Will you flee from the danger, will you try to get out,
or will you break from your fear, and rise, stand and shout?
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[ WP ] The allies lost in WWII so the Japanese and the Germans just kept conquering until their was no land left to conquer but each others . How does it play out ?
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The Great Powers met for the final time among the northern mountains of Afghanistan. The perpetually war-torn nation seemed a fitting place for the penultimate showdown for global supremacy.
The Empire of Japan had been dominant. The Japanese had managed to control the entirety of the Pacific, and all of the nations on both sides. They had successfully repelled the American attempts to halt their expansion, and once they had conquered East and Central Asia, Australasia fell swiftly to their control. Then it was a small matter to stir the coals of the Pacific industrial might, and cross the Pacific to first infiltrate the powerful nations of North America, and then sweep south all the way to Argentina. Fully half of the entire world was theirs, and there could be no stopping them.
The Third Reich had also seen great success, firstly in taking conclusive action throughout Europe, and as far west as the Caspian Sea, and deep into the mighty Soviet industrial heartland. They then turned their unstoppable war machine into Africa, where they met little to no resistance, as most African nations chose to seek their own peace with the seemingly invincible Germans.
So it was that the two remaining global powers found themselves not so long after the outset of the war, and all the people of the world knew that détente between the two would never last. Hitler ’ s unquenchable thirst for dominance over all people clashed violently with the Japanese desire for a powerful and impenetrable buffer surrounding their homeland. The two first joined in battle against one another throughout the Atlantic, sacrificing untold men and machines to the gods of the war in the expression of their hate for one another. Soon, anywhere that Germans stared across at Japanese, skirmishes and battle s broke out, slaughtering many more.
But the military prowess and industrial fortitude of the Reich was too strong. Soon South America fell into German control, and once they were able to seize control of North America, everyone could see that it was only a matter of time. The western victories has been costly for the Reich, there was no doubt. But not nearly as costly as defeat had been for the Japanese.
The Japanese retreated back across the Pacific, and focused more intently on securing more resources deeper in Western Asia; Germany ’ s back yard. But once again, the strength of the Reich held firm, and soon Japan controlled little more than their home islands, and a wide stretch of land through the Kamchatka Peninsula, China, and though Eastern Asia into Afghanistan.
The Afghan War was bloody for both sides, but brief, and decisive. When the top units of the Imperial Army fell in Afghanistan, it was only a small matter for the Germans to push east, and soon reach the Japanese Islands themselves. When the invasion of Japan finally commenced, it was less a war, and more a simple slaughter. So it was the German Third Reich became the undisputed ruler of the entire world.
Jimmy flipped the board over and bellowed “ Screw you! I hate this game anyways! ” He stormed off to the other room, and soon Tommy could hear the TV turned up loud to pre-emptively block out any attempts at heckling. But Tommy just smiled to himself. No one could beat him when he got to pick Germany.
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[ WP ] You are such a horrible example of a white man , that the powers that be send you back in time to 1935 ( Berlin ) , not in the hope you will kill Hitler , but that upon meeting you , Hitler may abandon all belief in Aryan supremacy .
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The plan, it back fired..... Stop the holocaust: it should have been simple. Introduce my self to Hitler, apon meeting me he would see that Aryan supremacy is nothing but a myth..
Communication to the future is impossible, if the mission was successful I should have woken back up in 2345 but here I am traped in 1935. I write this in hopes its found to stop this mission.
It was us who caused the holocaust, Hitler was expecting me, when I meet him. He knew why I was here, he could not be convinced that I of Aryan Blood was a failure a disgrace, he told me he seen greatness in me, when I looked around at those around me in 1935 for the first time I no longer felt as the failure I was back home. He told me that it is the jews fault I feel this way, that they fund my expedition to cement there control over the past and future. That nothing is wrong with me, but something is wrong with the future.. I was confused at first how could, he know so much aboult the future? Aboult my mission?
It turns out that I am not the first time traveler he has came across in his life. Apparently I am not the first. Their have been others. Some sent to force him to drop of art school. Assassins sent into the trenches in WW1 to kill him. His whole life he has been approached by time travelers meddling with his life. It has driven him to one conclusion, to gain control of his life he has to stop who ever is sending us back in time. All he knows from the information he has gathered is he is of Jewish descent...
He knows his ancestors are some were in Europe. He is willing to exterminate and entire race to stop one man from meddling with history for meddling with his life. For crimes he has not yet committed.
We have to stop, I told him I would stop it. Please when you read this dont send me back in time. Abort the mission, If you have all ready sent me, do not send anyone else. The next time traveler he see's he will enact the final solution.
If anyone finds this please deliver it to Ward 5 section 3 Of old Berlin in the year 2345.
`` Destroy this letter, it turns out Himmler has defected and failed his mission. Open another portal I want him killed now.''
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[ WP ] Aliens on a distant planet find the remains of Laika the 1st dog in space drifting past their planet . They are unable to comprehend how the canine was able to construct such a machine without opposable fingers and thumbs so they send a recon mission to earth to investigate .
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Really? Laika died in 1957. Laika was onboard Sputnik 2, the second most primitive spacecraft ever launched by the human race. It barely achieved Earth orbit. It certainly did not achieve escape velocity necessary to leave Earth orbit. Do I even need to mention that we're pretty sure there's no intelligent life on any planet in our solar system that for Sputnik 2 to be drifting past another planet inhabited by intelligent aliens it would have to have not only escaped Earth orbit, but also left the solar system and traveled trillions of miles to another star system... a journey that would require more than 100,000 years at the sort of speed Sputnik 2 was traveling if it were not slowed by the gravity of the Earth and the Sun as it left. If it were not coincidentally aimed at precisely the nearest star, the journey would take vastly longer, probably billions of years. Are we to imagine Laika would still be alive on arrival? Ignoring of course that Laika is already dead and Sputnik 2 returned to Earth.
I realize this is a concept thing about the relationship between people and dogs. It closely resembles and old joke, but seriously, people, we have more than enough science fiction that is severely deficient in science. We can do better than this.
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[ WP ] Two introverts are trying to hide from the drunken masses at a High School party gone wild . Tell me the story of them meeting in the only quiet room of the house .
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The smell of weed hung in the air of the upstairs hallway as he passed the open door to see someone sitting inside. He looked in, but someone sat there on the bed staring out of the door. Quickly, he turned away and headed away from the room. He walked downstairs and began walking outside.
`` Wait...'' he heard his friend drunkenly slur, `` you ca n't leave man, the shit's just getting started.''
`` I just wanted to go outside.'' He said, his glance shifting from the door to the people standing around in the kitchen, undoubtedly preparing another drinking game.
`` This ai n't my first time with you, Nate. You're gon na get out there and head home. Stay here just a little while longer, I'm sure you'll warm up. Just get some fucking drinks into you or something, man.'' He knew Mark's intentions were good, a social life is a healthy thing to have. The people at the party were oppressive, though, and he hated drinking.
`` Uh, alright. Where's the bathroom? My stomach hurts.'' He asked, hoping that he could just ride this out while everyone forgot about him.
`` It's upstairs past my bedroom.''
Back upstairs, he hovered outside of the room in the hallway. She was cute, but he did n't know what to say- talking for the sake of talking annoyed him and he assumed the same for her.
`` Hey, can you come in here?'' He heard a quiet voice squeak. He glanced through the door. There was a crash downstairs and he heard laughing. Quickly, he moved through the door, closed it and locked it.
`` I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable,'' he imagined how it looked to the stranger, `` but my friends are kind of invasive.''
`` I know, it's why I'm up here. I never know what to say to them. Either they want to talk shit about people or have the same repetitive conversations we always have. Drinking is awful and I always get hit on at parties.'' He stared at her. She was tall for a woman, but thin and somewhat muscular. She was pretty, with big green eyes, long blonde hair and a clear complexion.
`` You came here with the volleyball team, huh?'' He asked, looking at her.
`` Volleyball? No, I'm in basketball and softball. While we're being stereotypical, I guess you're in chess club.'' Suddenly, he felt self-conscious. He was skinny and pasty, with thick glasses that reflected his eyes.
`` No... I uh, ca n't be in extra-curriculars anymore. My grades are too bad.'' He sat down.
`` Rough, you look like a smart kid. I guess it's just the glasses and paleness.'' She smiled, `` I do n't mean to offend you, but to be fair you did it first. How do you know people here?''
`` I do n't really want to talk about it.'' The funny thing was, he was in chess club. He used to be a chess champion, but in the previous years his family had dissolved and he stopped caring about school.
Downstairs erupted in laughter, the music suddenly got louder.
`` Well, now I have to know.'' She sat forward and batted her eyes at him. He eyed her, she was flirting with him. If she knew though, he doubted she would be so cavalier about talking with him. If she was flirting, maybe she'd be interested in pursuing a relationship. If that was true, he should be forthright ahead of time and save a sticky situation down the road.
`` Well, I'm a drug dealer.'' He finally said, after perhaps too much time `` I'm new in town, and I move it from my hometown.''
She looked at him surprised.
`` The things we do for the sake of appearances, huh?''
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[ IP ] The Trail
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I was the best tracker in the territory. Anyone who says different does n't know what he's talking about, or might be the second or third best... It was their luck I was passing through town when they rode in. Their friend was missing, they said, taken by... well, they did n't say that. But they paid in gold, so I rode out with them the next morning. Along with some extra guns. They came much cheaper.
We rode straight through the heat of the day, no time to waste. Could n't let the trail go cold. Just followed their lead to start. Even if they had n't known where they came from, they did n't need me to track a trail of six panicked riders back into the mountains.
We passed the campsite a few hours before sundown. If their friend was close, a mile or three, I could find him before dark, no matter how rocky the highlands were round here. Maybe he'd even still be breathing. Up into the pass where one fellow said he saw him last. What they brought me here for.
I've tracked a buck through a four-day downpour. Tracked a golden eagle that never touched the ground all the way back to its nest. Tracked Comanche warbands through harsh deserts where only they knew where to find water. I can find one ambushed prospector, and whatever bastards took him. Easy.
Then I saw the trail. We all saw it. It does n't take a real tracker to follow a thick, red streak of blood. Not a trace of a footprint to be seen around it. I'd never seen anything like it before. No bear would do that, no man neither - white, Injun, or otherwise.
Shit.
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[ WP ] A god of a small religion decides one day to come to earth and show them that he is the one true god , only to find every other religious figure in history had the same idea that day .
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`` My children I have arrived, for your service you'll be awarded with a bounty in the after life'' the Glorious man in robes said. The Children of the Cornmeal were shocked but gladdened `` Oh Walker of the Husks we knew you would come to us'' their leader said happily falling to his knees.
`` Rise like the corn my child, for we will go out and plant the seeds of belief among the people'' he said glad his plan was working. By coming out like this his small following would grow to the world religion. He led the Followers outside when they saw the commotion people gathering around a T.V. nearby
``....That's right Tom, There have been sightings all over the world. The Christian God and Jesus in the Vatican, Jehovah and Abraham in Jerusalem. Allah and Muhammad at Mecca. All over the world religious figures have appeared to great celebration from their followers. There have even been some confirmed sightings of figures like Rah and Anubis in Egypt.'' a reporter said motioning to a map labeled God Watch.
`` That's very interesting, Wait wait I'm getting an update. Apparently the world tree Yggdrasil has sprouted in Iceland the Norse gods descending from the top. While simultaneously a large mountain we assume is Olympus has appeared in Greece'' The Anchor said some footage of the many Norse gods descending from above the clouds appearing on screen.
`` There are a few precautions being taken. The U.S. Army is on the watch for Xenu or any Cult Leaders who had called themselves gods before their death. Meanwhile the Mexican Army has gathered all forces on the sites of Aztec Ruins under similar fears. We're getting in more reports from India and China. In any case this is truly an amazing day''
The Children of the Corn Meal turned to their God eyeing him up and down. `` I think I'm going to convert'' Their leader said as they dispersed leaving the bearded man standing alone in his corn husk robe.
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[ WP ] In a world of magic , there is only one monster more terrifying than the dragon for the Magi . That is a Null , a person that magic can not touch .
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`` I came across one, not too long ago.''
`` Good gracious. Really? How did that go?''
`` Well, not so good. We fought.''
`` And you *survived*?''
`` Well, yes. Quite obviously. Unless you've figured out all that necromancy nonsense you've been banging on about for the last two centuries.''
`` Still having problems with the smell. But how did the fight go? The last time I heard of someone getting into a scrap, the other chap just ran up and hacked him with a sword. A few people saw it - they said that there was a lot of arm waving and some lights and smoke but it all just fizzled off like poor fireworks and then, you know. Chop chop chop. It sounds quite comical in description. Poor fellow.''
`` We did fight. It was tricky, I'll tell you.''
`` Go on then!''
`` Should I?''
`` Yes!''
`` Then I shall. But my throat is dry, and I'm reasonably sure that the last drink you bought me was at the coronation two countries and a century over.''
`` Oh, really? It's degenerated into this, has it? ^Innkeeper, ^a ^drink ^for ^my ^friend, ^please. There. Now, tell me about this scrap.''
`` Picture the scene: It was a dark, stormy night, and I was alone in my laboratory, investigating a possible way around Maugram's Law using nethcite laced with scrumtin and energized with a voltaic charge - smoke filling the room as energies crackled back and forth-''
`` That sounds interesting. Did it work?''
`` No; I lost both eyebrows and an imp who'd worked with me for a decade. But the point is that it was a dramatic setting, okay, so those details are incidental.''
`` I'll shut up and allow you to continue.''
`` Thank you. All of a sudden, the door splits open with a mighty *crack*, and this fellow in a ragged red robe charges through wielding a battle-axe the likes of which I'd never seen. Gems all over it, bits of gold, fancy curly bits - the works. Huge thing. Looked deadly. Of course, the first thing I did was to try to throw him backwards, but would n't you know it, nothing happened.
`` At first I thought I'd cocked up, so tried again. Nothing. I threw a lightning bolt I had to hand at him - it dissipated into the air just in front of him like he was holding some type of shield. I tried a fireball, but it shrank and shrank the closer it got, until it finally reached the size of a spark rising from a fire and winked out. He was pretty close by this point, so I was starting to worry.''
`` Good grief, that sounds ^oh, ^thank ^you ^- ^here, ^please ^do ^keep ^the ^change that sounds terrifying. What did you do?''
`` Well, you might recall when you last visited - and you're mighty overdue for a visit, by the way - you might recall that I had just acquired that huge bookcase full of tomes of so-called forgotten lore from that pocket dimension? The properly eldritch stuff that nobody uses any more? I think you commented that one of the books had silly pictures full of tentacles.''
`` I thought it was nonsense! Do n't tell me that some of that stuff worked?!''
`` What? Oh goodness, no. I levitated the bookcase and threw it at him. Good solid thing it was; hit him like that time a stone block fell on a peasant while my tower was being built. Bit splat. Had to pick bits of him out of the parquet floor for weeks afterwards.''
`` You made that up just to get a drink, did n't you?''
`` Well... maybe. But if you come and visit sometime soon, you might well notice that my lab is guarded by a new imp, who's carrying a large and ostentatiously fancy axe...''
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[ WP ] A schizophrenic high school senior starts a journal . Write the first entry in the journal .
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I have been listening for years and do n't want to do it. Maybe they will see it and ask too many questions. Yes I do. I know that. Fine with me to just start here. My name is Justin and I am writing this because I want to. Some of the kids are watching me. I can see in their eyes that they are wondering why my mouth is moving. They do n't know but I'll show them. Now they are laughing a little which is usual. Today has been fine, moving from class to class and trying to remember where I go next. The chatter in the halls is confusing and makes it hard to find the right path sometimes. I used to follow Derek but he left a while ago and I have n't seen him since. I thought we were friends but he did n't know I was following him or that he was leading the way. Maybe Derek could hear the chatter and it scared him too. Oh well. Now it's time to move rooms again. I wish I could stay in one place. I am still writing, OK? Time to go. I know. Maybe Derek is out there. I'll write more tomorrow.
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[ RF ] It would have been better if he never came home
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I do n't remember my brother very well, but there are some things I'll never forget. He was 11 years older than me, and so was always slightly distant, even when he tried his best to include me. He had his first love when I was learning to add, and was always out with his friends when I waited endlessly for him to co-rule with me in my pillow fort.
But my brother was kind. He would push me in the swings and play with me at the park, read to me, and carry me on his back when I asked. Because I was adopted, we looked nothing alike. My brother was tall and had freckles, fair skin, dark brown hair and eyes to match. I had tan skin and black hair. My brother was very good looking and many girls stared and giggled when we passed by. I did n't get it at the time.
My brother grew distant from my parents when he went to college. His visits grew more and more infrequent until I never saw him anymore. I was curious, but I learned not to ask because doing so made my father sullen and my mother cry. I kept silent but I *knew* my brother had not forgotten me and would come back to see me again one day and that everything would be good again. Eventually I gave up this childish hope, instead wishing him the best and regarding him as good as dead.
Years passed after this, and one day when I was spending the night with my parents he showed up. My brother! But he had changed. I saw his faint reflection in a glass picture frame and was just walking around the corner when I heard my father yell, `` No! I'm not giving you any money! I've tried to get you help, but you wo n't take it! What do you want me to do!?!'' I heard some mumbled reply from my brother, the stranger with the old clothes and blood shot eyes on my parents' door step, before the door slammed and locked shut.
The next morning my brother had left without a trace. My parents were safe, so I made some excuse for leaving a few hours earlier than planned. I cried as I drove away. When I was younger my parents had told me what happened to my brother, but in my mind I always hoped that it was n't true, but it was. My brother had not grown rich beyond recognition, become spoiled and forgotten us. My brother did not die tragically either. He was alive, but wretched, out there somewhere! It would have better if he had never came home.
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[ WP ] A very old tree which allows people in its shade to completely understand each other . Someone has come to destroy it .
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Winter had come early this year. The barren branches bespoke a quiet dignity. Nobody rested among the exposed roots. Nobody nuzzled into the grassless patches worn away by countless others. This behemoth tree maintained the unique ability for those in its watchful shadow to completely understand each other. Conflicts had been resolved, lovers had been reunited. This towering tree was a gift that almost everyone appreciated.
When he came, he came quietly, amidst the shadows and shade. He knelt at the feet of introspection and enlightenment, digging through his rucksack until he found what he was looking for. A 10cc vial of triclopyr, picloram, 2,4-D and dichlorprop.
In a time of war sacrifices have to be made, at least that's what he kept telling himself. The rubber stopper made a quiet pop as he opened the tube. The scent of the chemicals stung his nostrils forcing a grimace.
With little pause or consideration he emptied the contents into the soil, his mind had been made long before he came today. Yet he still expected to feel more considering the countless hours he had spent beneath this tree. But he felt as empty as the plastic vial resting in his hand.
As he sat, the wind whispered through the ancient branches and the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. For the first time ever, he sat alone in the shade, one with the tree, and he wept.
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[ CW ] `` We are alone . Our heroes have stopped caring . ''
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We are alone. Our heroes have stopped caring. Floating away from a world of disarray where even the strongest fighters for a better world have succumbed to a void of hopelessness... So here we are; the last effort to reach those who can bring our civilization back into the pages of the universe...
Our breed is dying. Our planet exhausted and torn. Yet in the darkness of space our vessel secludes us to nothing but our own minds. Behind us is a shadow of hope, and before us the unknown. No longer within communication range of our home world, our breaths are reserved and full of a tranquility that only the lonliest of species can feel.
Out of the darkness comes a glimmering sign of more pages to come. Beyond humanities greatest reaches another vessel appears. Our ship is the fastest ever fitted by mankind. The last attempt by our race to reach for the stars in the hope they would reach back... The vessel appearing before us can not possibly be our own. We watch in silence as the vessel gracefully maneuvers to face us. Tears begin to flow as the moment begins to take hold. A bright light shines within our cabin. Our instruments glowing ever brighter, the radio crackles `` You are not alone''.
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[ WP ] WELCOME TO BOOTCAMP , MAGGOT .
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It does not take much to break a man – just a rude awakening, a few pushups and little running, in fact. They figured that out on the first day when their alarm clock was a deafening siren mixed with the tune of the Sergeants screaming and tipping over still full bunks with sluggish occupants. They would come to learn this was one of the more affectionate greetings that they could be given. This was the Sergeants being nice. If they were feeling nasty they would start pumping the air out of the room and everyone would have to scramble into their suits.
No matter the wakeup it was always followed with the command of “ Beat your face! ” They would do pushups until the first man dropped. Even with the mechanical enhancements in their bodies they could not go forever. As soon as the first one dropped the Sergeants would be on him like sharks scenting blood.
“ ARE YOU THAT WEAK!? KEEP PUSHING! I GUESS YOU WANT THE PLATOON TO RUN, DON ’ T YOU! ”
And with that they would start running the track. It was a brutal obstacle course that required jumping over the twelve foot high barriers, crawling under wire, balance across pits filled with mud and unmentionable filth and other grueling tasks.
The one of their number who had condemned them to this hell was made to stand and watch as the others in his platoon ran laps while he counted. Today, Shake was counting.
Shake was not his real name, but it might as well be now. The platoon had assigned him the moniker after Shake ’ s display of nerves on the first day were so apparent that the Sergeants had almost shouted themselves mute trying to get him to stop shivering. As they prepared for bed that night one of the other recruits had asked “ Shake ” to pass him a towel, and when the bay ’ s laughter finally subsided the name had stuck.
Shake counted the second lap for a tall, skinny recruit named Miles. Mile ’ s only muttered about it being Shake ’ s third day in a row as counter. The other recruits expressed similar views as they passed, some with more malice and cursing than Miles.
After the obstacle course they headed to the Armory to draw their equipment for today ’ s field exercise. Their bulky assault rifles clipped to the front of their suits while their large field packs locked onto the back. Shake ’ s pack contained extra ammo, his food ration, wire, detonators, and explosives. Today he was in demolitions squad, the most dangerous squad for a “ chronic fuckup ” to be in, as his Sergeant put it.
Shake was earning his nickname while the platoon lined up on the mock drop ship ’ s airlock. Kane, the only recruit who even pretended to like Shake, was lined up next to him.
“ Hey, Shake, cut it out. ”
Shake glanced over at him, confused by his normally quiet companion ’ s outburst.
“ Why are you so nervous man? Once we get out there, it isn ’ t about how many pushups you can do; it is about having a good head on your shoulders and some grit. You ’ ve got more grit than anybody here. ”
“ Like hell I do, I ’ ve been counter three days in a row now. ”
“ True, but on those pushups today you didn ’ t give up, you kept pushing until you physically couldn ’ t anymore. You got further than anyone on the crawl under fire. You just have to chin up and get some confidence. ”
“ You really think that? ”
“ No, you ’ re about to get dropped on this movement and you are going to screw us over on this exercise. ”
The door hissed open, revealing a dark jungle of twisted vines and soaring trees.
“ Let ’ s go Shake. ”
With Kane ’ s encouragement fresh in his mind Shake entered the depths of the jungle floor with his platoon.
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[ WP ] You are born without the feeling of touch . Tell us about your daily life .
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So. I'm tactile defective. Most like get what that means from when I tell them. Others require me to tell them that means I have no sense of touch. Most people's response.
`` That's cool.''
No. Just no.
People's main association with no touch is no pain. `` So you ca n't feel pain. That's cool. I could do without the feeling of pain.''
There's a reason pain exists.
Ever go into a public toilet, wash your hands and the water comes out too hot. You pull your hands back. Your hands go red. You have technically damaged your hands. The damage is minimal and the pain subsides quite quickly. However I was my hands in water that's too hot and I've just damaged my hands. Unable to know how hot was too hot I've left them in there. Now I've seriously damaged my hands. Do you know how hard it is to judge the temperature of things by sight alone. I ca n't tell you how many times I've damaged my hands, lost my sense of taste or got burns on my arms I've had just because of something being too hot.
The same can be said for cold too. I may not feel cold but my hands will quite quickly stop functioning due to the poor circulation they now have due to the ammount of times I've damaged the blood supply to them.
You'd be surprised how many daily things come with a risk. Washing hands. Chopping vegetables. Even walking down the stairs. I have to be so careful that my foot has actually touched one step before moving onto the next. At home with no one around I will quite happily walk down like a toddler so that I do n't fall down them. If I fall down stairs in public I have to go to the public toilets check body inch by inch to make sure I have n't cut or broken anything. Then leave the toilets, not forgetting to wash my hands. Then there's that problem all over again.
I do n't feel pain. I'm not a machine. I ca n't continue walking with a broken leg like it's nothing. I'm not invincible I simply do n't realise it when I get damaged.
So my day. Wake up check body for bruses I may have got in the night. Get dressed, check clothes are on the right way round ( I'm not going to feel if they're not ). Clean teeth, have I spit blood. Is it my gums, do I have mouth ulcers, did I bite my tongue or cheek in my sleep. I have to find that out now. Go down stairs, carefully. Make coffee... Make sure coffee is n't too hot. Have coffee with breakfast... Have I bit my tounge or cheek. Do dishes... Make sure water is n't too hot. I have n't even got out the house and more of my time has been spent checking myself for injury than anything else.
No having no sense of touch is not as good as it's glorified to be. It's a disability. If it were unnecessary no one would have the sense of touch.
Do you know how weird it is to attempt to show someone affection, be it hugging, kissing or anything else, but not being able to benefit from it yourself. You just feel detached.
So thank you, and next time you think it'd be cool to not have the sense of touch stop and think for a minuite. That's a whole fifth of your senses you want to get rid of. You do n't get many people replying `` cool'' when someone tells you that they're blind, deaf. I hear that those that ca n't smell a similar time. I can relate to those that ca n't taste as I am always burning my tounge.
Go on public transport, be it bus or train and be misunderstood as rude or even a pervert as you ca n't feel if your touching anyone else. Do you know how awkward that is.
I do n't... I ca n't even continue with my day without getting even further off topic than I already have but hopefully you've gained some insight as to what it's truly like.
Thanks. I've needed somewhere to put this.
( Writers note: this is a complete work of fiction )
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[ EU ] You were the first human test subject in ESA cryo sleep experiments . Something went wrong though and you were forgotten deep inside the mountain to sleep . About 10 000 years later , you 're finally found and awoken by a tall , red haired man with oddly glistening dragon tattoos on his arms ...
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( I'm sorry but I'm afraid I do n't know which universe you're talking about. Instead, I'll write a similar idea I had for one of my novels, is that fine? )
--
`` There she is'', said the leader of the bandits, while everyone listened to him. `` One of the sleepers.''
`` Brother'', interrupted the priest. `` What you're doing is sacrilege. You're meddling with the gods' affairs! Do you want us to be swallowed by a demon?''
`` Shut up, you superstitious idiot! Remember that you're our prisoner, Ennu, and the Church ca n't save you now.''
`` The gods will save me.''
`` The hell they will. And they're not gods. Woman?''
K-k-k-k-k-k-k-....
The clicking of her throat terrified Ennu. Devilish... inhuman... the fact that the siren could see perfectly even when her eyes had been gouged out was what scared him the most. And yet, she was beautiful like a goddess.
`` Yamin? ``, the siren said, with a beautiful voice, her cloak covering a giant bulk in her back.
`` Here's another one.''
`` Let me see...''
A thin snake came out of the siren's left ear, touching the sarcophagus. The snake retreated to the siren's head again.
`` You should n't awake this one, Yamin. For her own sake.''
`` What the hell are you talking about?''
`` She is no one of importance, and wo n't help us in any way. Moreso, she will become a hindrance, for she is cursed.''
`` What do you mean, cursed?''
`` If you want to see her body being destroyed day by day until she dies, then wake her.''
The leader of the bandits chuckled. Then his chuckle became a laughter. The laughter echoed all over the labyrinth.
`` Her body being destroyed? Die? Die?? What are you talking about, woman! She is already dead! And ca n't you count the hundreds, thousands of people whose bodies I've seen getting destroyed by the sword? NONSENSE! Why do n't we ask her if she wants to live again?''
The siren inspired. `` Very well. Just do n't say I did n't warn you.'' Said this, the siren raised her hand and spoke loudly, with commanding voice: `` ATI ME, PETA BABKA! ``, which in the forbidden language meant, `` Gatekeeper, open your gate for me!''
A female voice spoke in an unknown language through the sarcophagus. The swords came too fast, thus, none of the versed in the ancient language understood it. But a freezing smoke came out of the sarcophagus, until it opened.
A slow gasp was heard.
`` She lives'', the siren whispered. `` She needs warm clothes. Also, water, and fruit juice.''
--
Tikva woke up from her sleep. The only thing she could see were people... in disguise? No. This had to be a dream, right? Wait, where was her brother? Her parents? Where's the light?
The only thing she could see were people carrying her and covering her with a rough coat.
And then she heard it. A long, terrifying howl.
`` Shedim! Shedim!! ``, the strangers shouted. They looked all frightened.
--
`` Demon!!! Demon!!! Let's get out of here!!!''
`` What have you done, you fool! ``, shouted Ennu. `` You've awaken the demons from their slumber!''
`` That was expected already. Scorpion, release him!''
`` What? ``
`` I want him to live. Brother, I lend you your freedom. Take care of this woman. You understand she needs our knowledge to survive, right?''
The priest clenched his fist. `` Brother, the gods will judge you for this.''
--
Tikva woke up. She was still confused, but she knew they had to get away from those howls. Horses??? Horses??? `` Where the hell am I?'' `` Where are we??''
Not understanding her words, the priest looked at her in the eyes. `` Zah ihih basdurah.'' He said it again, more calmly. `` Zah, ihih, basdurah.''
The howl echoed again. The robed man yell other words, more firmly, and pointed to the horse. She did n't understand, but from his tone, it became obvious that she was expected to mount the horse.
She tried to mount it, but felt too weak. But the priest helped her up, and mounted behind her.
`` Heya!!!''
The horses galloped through the labyrinth, and finally, to the exit of the caves.
`` Did we lose them, Ennu?''
Still holding the reins, Ennu took out the pendant he was carrying. It was glowing a faint blue. `` They're still close!''
`` We must hurry! But morning is nigh, we only have to hold a little longer!''
The pendant began glowing red. `` They're after us! Yamin, you fool, you've doomed us all!''
The riders heard a scream behind them.
`` We have no time to lose! Keep riding!''
`` They're too many!'' shouted the siren. `` I have to divert them.''
`` No, siren!!! You ca n't!!!''
`` I'll live. I will find you when you're safe.''
`` I forbid you!! I forbid you!!''
The siren stopped. The young girl heard her discuss and stop her horse. The man who looked like the leader yelled something that sounded like a curse. And then... the cloaked woman began singing a beautiful song. The priest's pendant turned from red to blue. She looked back, and pairs of glowing red eyes began approaching the horse that stayed behind.
The singing stopped, and many howls echoed into the darkness, followed by a female scream.
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[ IP ] Citadel of Fishermen
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`` Yer first time?''
James turned to face the burly, bearded sea captain who addressed him.
`` I beg your pardon, sir?''
The sailor waved his hand.
`` No, no. No need for the sir. Just call me Captain,'' the old captain said as he stroked his beard, `` I was askin ye if it was your first time going to the citadel.''
James nodded. The captain stroked his beard curiously.
`` And eh, how long ye been sailin' fer?''
`` Well, only for a short while. My dad died at sea when I was 15. I quit school and took up where my dad left off. It was hard at first, but I learned a lot in a year.
`` A year! So you're only 16 now?! Yev only been sailin' fer a year and yer going to the Citadel? I'll tell ye this lad, I mistook ye fer yer age, so if ye want to stay out of trouble, ye'll keep yer head down, do as yer told, and do n't tell ANYONE how old ye are.''
The captain turned back to the helm, mumbling under his breath. It was hard to make out really, but James could tell the old sea captain was concerned. Mumbling how the citadel was n't for children.
James knew he did n't really look his age. He was always taller than the other local boys, and was already taller than his mother by 11. Much like his father he was just naturally strong. Ever since he was seven his dad was grooming him to be something better than just a longshoremen, he wanted James to be an officer in the Navy. He learned rope tying, swimming, diving, living of the land and of course fishing. But once his dad died, it was up to James to provide for his mom and his sister.
The Citadel of Fishermen, was considered to be the most profitable fishing and diving spot in all the seven seas. A three month stay just working for the Citadel, would earn you twice what you'd make in a year on average. And if you stay at the Citadel for a whole year, you're welcomed into their brotherhood and untold wealth. That is, if you could survive. While it was the most profitable location, it was also the most dangerous. The most prized and deadly sea life lived around the perimeter of the citadel. It was n't uncommon for a boat of 150 people who showed up for duty, to return with only a crew of 30. Even fewer make it for a full year. The brotherhood of The Citadel was made up of some of the saltiest, toughest men of the sea. From privateers and pirates, to whalers and longshoremen. Even some of Her Majesties most experienced and esteemed Naval officers were members of this selective group. Even still, most of them became members at the sacrifice of eyes, fingers, limbs, and even their humanity.
James had no idea what awaited him on that large dock in the middle of the sea. What creatures of the deep he'd see and catch, or what treasures and commodities he'd find beneath the water. In reality, he did n't know if he was going to live or die. He did n't know if he'd make it back to see his mom and sister again. Even still, he vowed to try.
`` Captain,'' shouted a man from the crows nest, `` were approaching The Citadel now!''
`` Aye, so we are! Men! All hands on deck, prepare to dock!''
James stared upwards the closer the ship got to the towering castle in the middle of the ocean. It was much larger than he expected. He felt the boat slow down and then come to stop. The anchor had dropped.
`` Captain, why are we stopping here,'' James inquired.
`` Because vessels this big should n't get to close to the support beams. Not that it'd hurt the Citadel much, but it's harder to maneuver away. Also,'' the captains face showed a foreboding grin, `` some of the bigger creatures of the sea like to mess with bigger ships like this. I should know, my first time comin here, a giant beast with massive jaws, ripped through the ship. Damn thing got me leg. Make not mistake James, this place is not for the faint of heart or leisurely fishermen. I can still take you back to port.''
James looked at the Captain. His eyes were steadfast and his face was determined. The Captain smiled wide.
`` Do n't confuse stupidity for bravery lad. Out here, it pays off to be wary of those around you. I can tell you wo n't be going anywhere else. Go to one of the row boats off the side of the ship. They'll take you the rest of the way.''
James nodded, picked up his dads old duffle bag and proceeded to the side of the ship. He thought of the Captains words, of his father, of his mother and sister back home. He tossed his belongs down to the dingy below and proceeded down the ladder. Once on the boat he truly saw who he was with. Buff, burly, tattooed sailors. Most of them had scars and knife wounds. He was the odd man out. But he'd made his decision. Once he was on the boat they departed towards the Citadel. James watched the dark murky water lap against the sides of the dingy, he looked on as his `` compatriots'' all sized each other up. Each of them flexing or cracking their knuckles, staring each other down. James took the Captains advice, he tucked his head down and looked at the bottom of the dingy. For a while at least, James would just have to lay low and try not to stick out. He felt the water tip the boat back and forth, he savored these final few moments of peace.
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[ WP ] Giovanni calls you into his office , you are proposing Team Rockets next big scheme .
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I stand in front of Giovanni ’ s desk, taking in the great figure that was once Giovanni, the most feared man in all of Kanto. But now, he sits, almost defeated, behind a desk, brought down by the memory of a ten year old boy and his Pikachu.
“ Sir, ” I try to get his attention away from the papers on his desk. “ I realize that business has not been great lately. ” Way to put it lightly. Team Rocket had been sunk by the rise of Team Magma, Team Aqua, Team Plasmus, Team Galactic, and finally Team Flare. “ But I have developed a way to restore Team Rocket to its former glory… ”
“ What do you know about glory? ” Giovanni stood, his eyes finally meeting mine in a fiery glare. “ What could you possibly know about the spoils of victory, of fame and the taste of riches, having everything you ever dreamed of, only to see it destroyed in agonizing defeat? ”
“ I don ’ t know anything about victory. But I don ’ t plan to learn about defeat. ” I met his gaze, refusing to back down as I spoke. “ I am a member of Team Rocket. A devoted member. But I am also a Pokémon trainer. A fantastic trainer- “
“ But you are no gym leader- “
“ And you are no champion. I will be. Give me a team, and I will become the champion, in every region, from Kanto to Kalos. I will rule the Pokémon League, and control the fates of all young trainers across the world! ”
“ And shall Team Rocket sit idly by while you stride forward, taking all the power and glory? ” Giovanni smirked, a hint of his old self returning.
“ No. Infiltrate the other teams. Find out their secrets, their weaknesses, and destroy them from the inside out. As we rule, there will be no one left to oppose us! ”
Giovanni watched me, contemplating my suggestion. “ If I were to agree to this plan of yours, ludicrous as it seems, what makes you think any Pokémon of Team Rocket ’ s can defeat a Pokémon League Champion? ”
“ Give me Mewtwo. ”
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[ WP ] You are a Vegan who , one day , wakes up to find yourself with the ability to read the thoughts and feelings of Plants .
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`` Woah there Oakie keep your roots to yourself!'' Tammy always woke up to talk radio. It was a relic, sure, but nothing scared you awake like old men yelling about the new generation. She rubbed her face and stretched her legs up, cracking at least half her spine.
`` Great... another day without meat.'' Tammy flipped her tone, ``'Tammy try my Vegan sister's roomate's cousin's aunt's diet- she lost like three pounds in a week with it!' My friends are the worst...'' She let the thought simmer and shook her head letting her negativity escape hopefully.
`` I'd tear those leaves up nah-what-I-mean?'' The radio commentators were acting especially strange. Normally they were screaming about some club venue that just opened and was also about to shut down in bankruptcy or a pair of tickets to some concert halfway across the continental US. Tammy reached her hand out and snoozed the alarm clock.
`` You know me, I'm a flower/ bark kinda dicot. You monocots got some strange thoughts.'' Tammy hit the radio again, that snooze button can be rather sticky.
`` Okay what's on today's schedule? Some delicious kale and tofu....then some pomegranate seeds, yum... and oh right bark chips for my mid day snack probably. Two more days Tammy, you can do it. The race is almost over. Virginia may not have believed you could be vegan for two weeks but damn it if she's not wrong!'' Tammy got off her bed and ran a hand through her hair. She stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. Her father was up and snacking on some bacon, the world was obviously taunting her. `` Could you devour that so I do n't hate myself please?''
`` Oh honey, I'm sorry. You're doing so well, I would hate to be the one to talk you into biting into this apple... that's the pigs job!'' Her father said, he laughed. `` Do you see what I did there? Cus the pig would be eating the apple... on a spit... and temptation was... nevermind.'' He shoved the last few pieces of bacon in his mouth and washed the plate in the sink.
`` Yo, look at that violet over there man? You see her? She's getting green- I'm gon na hit her up.'' Tammy turned to the window, the same voices from her radio were coming from outside now.
`` oh good morning Mr.Conifer. Is n't it a beautiful day to bloom?'' A slightly more female voice came from the window now. Tammy walked over to the ledge and looked out, there was n't a radio in sight.
`` Dad... do you hear like... radio commentary?''
`` Nope. Seems you've finally been driven insane.'' Her dad replied. A loud whirring sound came from upstairs just as his last syllable escaped.
`` Good good good morning San Fran Thank you Ma'am! It's your crew from WKY2 bringing you some morning traffic news!'' The voice bounced down the steps.
`` I thought I already turned that off...'' Tammy said. She pulled out a small pack of tofu from the fridge.
`` Oh now I hear it honey. That San Fran crew is crazy!'' Her father walked behind her, kissed her on the cheek and waved goodbye. Tammy heard the door swing open and it felt like hundreds of radio stations buzzed into her head at the same time.
`` Spores are gross! I'll never take those into my petals!''
`` This deer took a real bite out of me last night, we need some repellent like when those pepper brothers were here.''
`` Girl I want some a' your pollen- you down?''
`` if those mammals take one more premature fruit off me I'm gon na...''
Tammy fell to the floor, covering her ears. She rocked back and forth for a few minutes before gaining control. `` That's it, I need meat. The bet is n't worth this kind of insanity, I'm full on hallucinating... and for what? A few pounds less and not having to wear all brown the first day of school? Ugh.'' Tammy stood up, one hand still on her ear, and opened the fridge. She found sliced turkey and ripped the package open. She devoured it like a vulture over a freshly hit possum. The radio stations started to lower in volume with each bite, once she was done with the whole package, it was peaceful silence once again. `` It's good to be a carnivore again...'' Tammy said, finishing the bag of turkey and letting it drop safely into the trash can.
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[ WP ] I made a beautiful mistake today .
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The room was heavy. It was n't one thing, it could n't be attributed to just one thing. The room was just heavy. There was a weight in it, surrounding me.
It was more than the sterile air, more than the machines beeping softly in the background, more than the cheap linens on the bed.
More than the bead of quickly drying sweat that dripped down my back and down my nose and forming on my temples.
It was heavy.
Everything.
My body.
It ached, screamed, I was in pain and he knew it. He sat there next to me and held on tight. Maybe a little too tight because I was loosing feeling in my hand and my arm. But that was okay. I did n't need to feel right now. Or rather I felt too much. And I did n't mind that he was dulling it just slightly.
He clings to my hand and wipes some of the sweat from my forehead with his other hand. He's clinging to me and that's okay. Because I do n't have the strength to cling to him right now.
It was heavy. This room. My body. His hand. Our breathing.
Life.
It was heavy.
And I could n't make that weight disappear.
We knew this was going to happen. They warned us before hand. Months and months ago. We had prepared. We had put our affairs in order. We had celebrated and mourned already. But now it was happening. Now he was here. And I was n't ready. We were n't ready.
How could we be ready?
Tears blur my vision and I ca n't stop them. They pour out of me like I'm leaking. I ca n't stop. He clings to me and I ca n't summon the energy to look at him. But I know. He's crying too.
How could we have prepared for this?
The doctors hover on the other side of the room, doing whatever it is that they need to do. I do n't care. I do n't care what they're doing or why they're doing it. I ca n't take my eyes off of him. Small and red and broken looking.
They wrap him in a blanket, tightly and quickly. Even though it's no use. He does n't need a blanket to keep warm. Does n't need a mother's love. Does n't need a father's protective care.
He does n't need us. But we needed him.
Sobs rack my chest and I ca n't stop. I'm so tired and everything is so heavy and I ca n't take my eyes off him.
How?
Why?
The doctors look at me with something like pity in their eyes as they hand him over.
I cling to him.
My precious baby boy. Wrapped tight in a blanket. Little eyes and little fingers and a little perfect nose. He was so perfect. So beautiful. So precious and yet-
The room was heavy.
I clung to him. Pressed his little body to my chest. To where my heart was. I wanted him to hear it. But I knew he could n't. He never would.
My tears dripped down onto him and I wiped them gently away.
How could I have prepared for this.
He was so perfect. He was my whole world in one small little human being.
Next to me I feel my hand get released from the vice grip. I see my husband with tears in his eyes. He presses his forehead to mine and we cry together. It's not our fault. It's not anyone's fault. That's what the doctors said. What they told us. It just happened. His heart just stopped one day. Inside of me, his heart stopped.
I cling to him. His small body pressed to my heart.
I made a beautiful mistake today.
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[ WP ] The time of Armageddon is soon . All the gods of various pantheons congregate to debate on why their end of the world should happen . While squabbling among each other , a god that was never worshiped speaks its mind .
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The large oval table was surrounded an eclectic group of Gods and Goddesses, sitting proudly atop white marble thrones, their heads held high in poses of pride and righteousness. They had decided to speak individually of their plans to end the world. The humans were no longer receptive to their gestures, they had turned away from the heavens and down to the earth. They no longer worshiped in temples, but in skyscrapers. They no longer lay prostrate in thanksgiving but stood proud in defiance of, or in ignorance of, their creators. The conversation began civilly, Mother Nature proposed an uprising of the creatures of earth against the humans. The Christian God had proposed a vengeful display of fire and brimstone in response to their hubris. But the conversation became debate which inevitably became arguing. The voices grew and grew into a crescendo of powerful sound before they were silenced by one bellowing voice.
`` ENOUGH! ``, a deafening voice permeated the chamber. It emanated not from a mouth but from the very air between them. The once prideful Gods trembled in their seats at the unknown power. `` You are all just as ignorant the humans. Acting as though you are invulnerable. Hah! Have you never considered that you may not be the most powerful deities in this universe? Have you never stopped to worship the one who created you?''
The Gods shifted uncomfortably in their seats, deep in thought with this new concept.
`` The humans state'in the beginning was the Word'. How foolish. In the beginning was time, and time alone.''
The Christian God narrowed his eyes at this blasphemy and stood in protest, but there was no opponent to face.
`` Sit down, child. I am the God of Time. I am the beginning and the end. I am the creator and the destroyer. You have all prided yourselves on your ability to manipulate the humans, on your ability to control the board of chess, yet have you ever considered that you are but another pawn on a board of greater scale than you can imagine? How benign are your so called'powers' in the face of the puppeteer behind everything that was, has been, or will be? I am afraid you will all be forgotten in due time. It is inevitable, for I will not stop for your pathetic pride. I will not stop for your puny squabbles. The humans will come to an end, my friends. I have seen their demise, and it is by their own hand. Laughably, so are your demises. The end is near, children. All I ask for is your patience.''
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[ WP ] Write a sad story about a past relationship .
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A girl dressed up in the dark
set fire to the flowers
at a funeral last week.
I will deny all connection to the crime
but the sight of cheap carnations burning
is locked tight inside my mind.
You hated carnations anyway.
I spend my spare seconds
tying my tongue into knots
and waiting for appropriately solemn words
to come fizzing out.
I hope that one day,
I will come to believe all my own lies.
Until then
I will still wear your blue sweater
with the worn out elbows
I will still write your name in all my notebooks
and dot all my i's with hearts.
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[ WP ] The super villain wept . `` Why did n't you stop me ? ''
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I stared at the charred corpses. A woman, and the other destroyed now beyond recognition a young boy. The hallway was empty and the nearby rooms all devoid of people, save for just these two who had been here because the patron of the family, Jace had skipped some duties. The mother, one Alice Nina, had picked up her son from some late after school activities and had brought him with her while she picked up her husband's materials for the next day. Dave was working the desk tonight, he should not have allowed her in but he had had a fancy for her and let it go like of course he would.
`` I'm sorry, what did you say?''
Jace, hiding under the moniker'Flamefist', turned and choked out, `` Why? Why did you let me do this?''
I'd been standing before him, his wife and kid behind him when he'd struck. The sound of the violent torrents that usually surrounded him were too loud for him to hear the screaming, the terrified screaming. The mother would have run, I knew that, but the son...
Fight or flight is just what they say in the films, and it's wholly inaccurate. There's fainting, there's standing still, and then there's your knees going weak and screaming in fear. This last was her son. I'd counted on that.
They did n't know what the family's patron did for fun, did n't know who seared their flesh. I'd been standing before him, two steps away actually. I could have done my routine dash over, grab him by the arms and quick exit by the window to my right.
It was smashed now.
Always the same frustrating routine. We're in a bank vault, he summons a torrent of flame and I close the vault door. We're in a parking lot, he summons a torrent of flame and I fly up with him to spare any passersby. We're in a park... we're at a pond... we're at a store.
This was *his* fault.
The last time was the final straw. The cops called me on my special phone while I was trying to enjoy a movie in the cinema in my special free time. I had my snacks and all. I told them he was not going to hurt them, he'd put on a little show, scare them off and they'd be fine. I was holding popcorn in my hand the next two times they called, the best scenes were already playing and I was getting called to go play with this moron. I was nearly frothing at the mouth.
I only ask that my free time be respected, is that too much? I have a job and I have this extra duty, what free time I have is sacrosanct. Especially when I eat, I hate, hate, *hate* being taken away from meals.
But this man had violated what few important things I had. I could have broken his kneecaps, I could have broken his legs, I could have crippled him for the rest of his life. But what I wanted was something that would stay with him forever so he'd learn that I am not to be messed with. I wanted to hurt him where he would feel it. What's more, I'd let him do it to himself, and for him to hate me for letting him do it to himself.
This is why I led him here.
`` Because I hate you Jace''.
His eyes grew wide.
`` Yeah I know who you are. I'm sick and tired of the time I waste with you. You want to burn? Fine, burn, but now though? Now you'll fry too. Never, *never* play with me again''.
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[ WP ] On your 18th birthday , everyone looses their powers they had since birth . When you wake up on your 18th birthday you find out that you still have yours .
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18 years of this torture. To many times have I died and been reborn again. My friends made it some sick game. They all had truly useful powers. Strength, mind control, and even levitation.
I was different. I always had been. Leaving this world and having the ability to come back was a terrible fate. The physically pain does not even stand next to the emotional turmoil I feel. My soul is stripped from me every time I go, like someone ripping the very flesh from my skull.
I had no dream but to turn 18 and let this curse leave me forever. I should have known that I was different. I always had been.
I stayed up until midnight the evening leading up to my birthday. I was to anxious to sleep. I could n't wait to fell free; to finally feel alive. All these years I was being used, all the years I was thrown under the bus. Everyone thought I was so lucky. If only they knew what was on the other side.
My alarm went off at 6:45 for my morning jog and conditioning. Working out was one of the few pleasures I found in this life. The burn was welcome, as it always was. It was Friday, June 23rd.
I peeled the left corner of my red comforter with my right hand. It slid off of the mattress and turned into a pile on the floor. I swung my legs over and let them dangle off of the bed.
That's when I noticed. I did n't feel different.
Everyone I knew felt an immediate change. They described it as losing a piece of you. The said it felt like someone died, like you were grieving. I felt no such thing.
My mother walked into the room.
`` Good morning birthday boy!'' Her excitement was real. It's not every day my mother is a real human being, so the good days are a blessing.
`` Mom, I do n't feel any different.'' I said while looking at my bare toes.
`` What do you mean, honey?''
`` All my friends said they felt different when they lost their powers. I'm still the same. I can still feel the ticking in my brain.''
`` Oh, my.''
Pt. 2
`` What does this mean, mom?'' Tears welled in my eyes. I could feel the pain inside that I endure when I pass over. Again and again, year after year.
`` I do n't know, Ben. I do n't know.'' She held her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were closed. `` We need to call your uncle.''
I knew that this was serious. My uncle Daniel was a raging alcoholic with the past to back it up. 4 tours in the Middle East, 7 years in a private security firm, and another 3 as a private consultant. He stepped down from his own security firm to spend more time in his own head, and inside a bottle of Jack Daniels.
His expertise was the human psyche. Without any schooling or real training, he could decipher people intentions by the look on their face. They called him the human lie detector. Uncle Daniel knew how I felt. He knew what is was to be used.
3 hours later he walked in the back door with an empty water bottle in one hand and a 16 oz Budweiser in the other. Pretty tame for 10:00 am.
`` So the ticking did n't stop, huh?'' He did n't seem surprised. He always said I was different. `` Well first of all, happy birthday.'' He extended a small wooden box in my direction.
`` Can I open it?''
`` Of course you can, man. Do n't act like this is your first time doing this.'' He smiled in pride at me, while my mom looked in disgust at him. I knew that look on her face. She was writhing inside.
I hinged the top of the box open with my left thumb. It was a gold watch.
`` Wow. This is amazing. Thank you uncle Dan.'' I had a phony smile and a half hearted hug for him, but he knew what I was thinking.
`` Okay. Here's the deal.'' He set his empty beer can on the counter and took a seat at the bar stool. `` There are certain people in this world that keep their abilities. I knew deep down that you were one of them.'' His face turned to concern. `` This means 2 things.''
I was ready for the worst. Early death, being a martyr, anything but keeping this curse.
`` 1; you are going to keep your regeneration trait forever. I can imagine how you feel, but there is something important you need to know. Your ability will be honed over time. It'll stop hurting eventually, and your control with come soon after.''
I did n't believe him. I was certain that I would be in pain for the rest of my life.
`` 2; you have a responsibility to the world. It's easy to use this power of yours for your own reasons. Do n't. That's the most important thing to know. Karma is real, and your souls is extra sensitive to it. So you need to promise me that you will only help people.'' He fell dead silent. His concern drooped into a blank stare. He was waiting for an answer.
`` I ca n't do this. How am I supposed to live a normal life?'' The tears flowed freely down my face now.
`` Its simple. You do n't.''
Pt. 3
`` Fuck this.'' I had enough of this. After all this time, all this pain, all this grief.
I suppose this is as good of a time as any to explain my `` ability'', as they called it, in a little deeper detail. Maybe then you'll understand my woe.
In my minds eye, I can see, hear, and feel my internal clock. If I `` place my finger'' on one of the watch hands, my life on this earth stops. My soul melts through my pores and is scooped up by the draft of the underworld. The other side of mortality is cold, uninviting, and most of all frightening. Every person has a soul. Every souls reflects the actions of that persons life. The uglier the truth, the nastier the soul. Trust me, you do n't want to be face to face with a recently dead mass murderer.
After I decide my time on the other side is done, I take pressure off of the watch hand, and my life continues. Complete control, as long as my emotions remain intact.
That being said, what good was this to the world. How could anyone gain from this? If there is anything you need to know about the souls you come in contact with, know that they are lairs. Just as we are all secret in life, we remain concealed in death.
`` Your probably wondering how you can help anyone with this.'' He was still staring blankly at me, trying to understand.
I gave a small chuckle to myself. `` Yeah.''
`` Unfortunately, your the only person I've ever heard of developing a power such as yours. Your chemistry is different, so I do n't know how it truly works. Normally the relays in your brains short circuit, causing the adolescent to display their power unwillingly. You already break the mold by being able to control it, and the rest is all speculation.''
`` Humor me.'' I needed more information. I needed to understand.
`` I think you will face a lot of turbulence. The universe will gravitate people with problems towards you to solve them.'' I started tapping his two fingers on the table as he spoke. `` They wo n't move you forward. Do n't feel obligated to help anyone. Better yet, do n't be a martyr. The universe is all knowing, but not living. It does n't hold any grudges.''
My mother had to be raging inside. She had been digging her long, dark nails into the hem of her jeans for the past 5 minutes. She picked at it, as if trying to pluck it up.
`` In the end, it's all up to you. You can stand idly by, but if you are careless, the unrevised will come down on you. And in your case, this is the only way your life can ever end.''
My mother started crying. Hearing that her boy could die was the last straw.
I instantly knew what I was going to do.
I decided to completely ignore my uncles advice. I was ready for my life to end.
( Will continue later )
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[ WP ] Write a creation myth .
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“ What story will you tell us tonight father? ” a young boy of about nine asked.
“ The story of how the world came to be. ”
There was nothing at first but a lone star shining out into the void. The star was lonely. For years it waiting and shone. Hoping to be a beacon for company. None came. Fed up with it ’ s loneliness it starting crying. The tears cooled it ’ s hot surface into rock. The pain of death shocked the star into splitting into six fragments. Four of those became gods. They watch above us even now in the form of moons. The largest of which became the world that we live on now. The last contained the heart of the star and rekindled. It warms us and we keep it company.
“ If the star never cries how does it rain? ” the young boy asked.
The five gods each embodied parts of the star. The first was Sare, aspect of strength. He carved the world into whatever shape he desired. As he wore away at the rock Gidas The aspect of chaos stabbed him in the back with a frozen tear of the star. He was envious of the power that he received from the star. The third was Gora, the aspect of creation. She created the churning oceans and was Sare ’ s lover. The rain that nourishes us are her tears of remembrance. Fourth was Elim, the aspect of thought. He retained the feelings of the star and was smitten with loneliness. He cut himself into three pieces. Two of which became man and woman. The last was himself, weak from the process but glad nonetheless. He would not be alone. Sharing the last thought of the lone star.
“ I am glad that we are together father. ” the boy said before falling asleep.
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[ WP ] A competent new government has completely restored order in Somalia . The only issue ? No one has any idea who they are or who leads them
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It was a trifling matter. Within weeks of my... *appropriation* of this fractured little Republic from its previous politicians, I had quietened brought forth a new order to the chaos. Towns and cities were rebuilt. The pirates and warlords that made their home within Somalia's shores found themselves coerced into assisting the restructuring of the new government, or else were dealt with through more forceful means. For the first time in 26 years, the Somali and fellow residents were governed by a powerful, intelligent and benevolent ruler, one who could make them feel safer than ever before.
There was some resistance, of course. Al-Shabaab, the terrorist group that pecked at the nations of the world, attempted a coup to remove me from power. Their little rabble was soon quashed, and their leaders hung before my palace as a reminder to all who would oppose me. Now, dissent is but a distant memory.
The world does not suspect that I have taken charge. They believe me still in my island dominion, plotting and scheming against the superpowers that reign overhead. They are fools. Somalia's people are industrious and resourceful; already do we gather weapons in preparation for the coming battle. And all the while do we present a fair face and encourage trade amongst our allies, and open our shores to the Westerners who desire to see a war-torn paradise. But soon, they shall know fear. For we will acquire more governments, stabilise more countries, prepare our war machine.
Latveria was just the beginning. Doomsday fast approaches the corrupt governments of the world, and I, Victor von Doom, shall crush them within my fist and rule supreme. And no one will be able to stop me.
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[ WP ] Write a story that could be interpreted/read with many different meanings .
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`` Hey, I just wanted to let you know that you look really pretty without handcuffs on.''
`` Really? You think so? Hey, that's the nicest thing I've heard anyone say in a really, really long time!''
`` I'm sorry I had to put them on you, but you know how it is. I really had no choice; you sort of made me do it.''
`` I know, and I'm sorry.''
`` Me, too. I'm sorry about your birthday, too, but I'm sure it'll be a good party next year, too. You know you messed up, or I would have waited before coming in like that. I'm proud of you, you know.''
`` Still? After all that?''
`` Still. Just be good, and you'll be let out before you know it.''
`` OK. I will.''
`` Good to hear.''
-- -
Inspired by the prompt just below: https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/453c8n/wp_you_look_really_pretty_without_handcuffs_on/
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[ WP ] A Fantasy blind date , A Drow and a Halflings . None them expected this .
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She was… well, shorter than I expected. Is that racist? I don ’ t think that ’ s racist. That ’ s just the way it goes. Ah, but there are my shallow thoughts. Can beauty not be found beyond skin? I ’ ve heard that it ’ s in the eye of the beholder, but gods I hope not. I had a beholder once. Nasty pets. Much too clever, much too evil, and not at all fuzzy or comforting. Slightly less insufferable than cats though.
“ Does your deity allow you to eat vegetables? ” she asked, with a nervous smile.
Clever, definitely clever. She may as well have asked, “ Are you a crazy cultist spider drow or the do-gooder I-am-not-my-race drow. ” To be honest, I had relatives on both sides.
“ Oh, I ’ m not a follower of Elistree or Lolth, actually. More a free spirit. ” I aimed for friendly, but I might ’ ve fallen short on the mark and found ‘ persnickety ’ instead.
“ I ’ ve always thought myself something of a free spirit. I spent a few years as an adventurer actually. Mostly disarming traps and sniffing out the treasure. Oh, but I don ’ t want to spend the whole time talking about me. ” She blushed, and I found it overwhelmingly cute.
“ No, go right ahead m ’ lady. An adventurer you say? ” I silently hoped that my elven charm was, for once, was actually working.
“ Yes, well, that ’ s how I found my way here. ” She gestured towards the door of the tavern, leading to the massive subterranean abyss that was my homeland. “ Not that it isn ’ t a very nice place though. ” She blushed again.
“ No need to speak of it kindly. ” I said, reassuring her that I was not offended. “ I don ’ t particularly fancy it either. I was actually hoping to make my way to the surface. Maybe see some real trees, and get away from the political scene. Not much place here for a neutral drow. ”
An understanding look appeared in her eyes. “ The paladin and the warlock in my party were the same way. ‘ Here Kailyn, put this black chakra under the Morty ’ s pillow tonight. He ’ ll be itching for weeks. ’ ‘ Kailyn, sprinkle this holy water on Jeremark ’ s clothes while he ’ s washing up in the river. It ’ ll bring him closer to the light. ’ ”
I chuckled at the impersonations. I could practically taste the self-righteousness.
“ So, ” she stirred her ale with a spoon for a moment before asking her question. “ What do you do for a living? ”
Ah, yes. My least favorite question.
“ I ’ m a wizard, actually. ” I smiled apologetically. “ My parents, and the village seer, encouraged me to major in Necromancy at the community wizard college. To be honest, I would ’ ve rather been a botanist. ”
“ Oh you poor thing. ” She murmured and took my hand. This time it was my turn to blush. “ Really, I had always wanted to be an actress. But my father was a treasure hunter, and his father, and his father before him… ”
I looked at the sigil tattooed on my hand, glowing half red. Blast, but it was already time for my shift to start.
“ Sorry Miss Kailyn, but I need to get to work, or my employer will have me banished to the one of the Nine Hells. ” I was not entirely exaggerating, but it made for good conversation.
“ Just Kailyn. ” She gave me another of her gorgeous smiles. “ Would you be free to meet tomorrow? ”
“ I… yes. I would. I mean, I will. I look forward to it. ”
“ Good. ” She gave me the lightest of kisses on my cheek, and then she was gone.
I went to work summoning the hordes of dead with a spring in my step.
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[ WP ] As you turn 18 you must choose between two worlds to live in . One is totalitarian where the government controls your life , with no poverty or crime . The other is anarchistic with no government or laws . You can never change your mind .
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He had always dreaded the day when the decision would be his. When Amaranth was only 3 years old, he watched his father being ripped away by this malignant decision. The torturous guise of free will and freedom of choice began many centuries before Amaranth's life. When finally the gods of heaven and hell, simultaneously beaten down by the constant construct of war, reached an agreement of a magnitude unbeknownst to them, that was to be emblazoned in the sands of time. Thus the legend has been handed down, from pharaoh unto king, king to dictator, and dictator to the government of the world. A new world order, imposed upon the unwillingly, yet oh so accepting inhabitants of this world.
Young Amaranth turned Eighteen years old today, and the decision will be presented to him. All he has ever known, since that faithful day many years ago when he lost his father, was love of his beautiful mother, Amara. She was a docile women. When the choice was presented to her, she chose safety and regulation, the choice she believed all young mothers would choose. Of course, the moment she had given birth to Amaranth she knew that her only purpose in this world was to protect him. She was not an unintelligent woman, Her mind was as sharp as the greatest katana forged of folded steel and meteorite by the master, Hatori Hanzo. She understood the interworking of the system, the sheep who submitted to the will of their master, and the beasts, with their uncontrollable lust for anarchy and chaos.
`` Good morning mother,'' he said with pure apathy. `` Well good morning my boy,'' there was an indescribable look to her this faithful morning. `` This will be the last time I get to call you that...'' Tearing up, Amara beamed a smile at her son so motherly she could n't have practiced it. `` Ah ma... do n't worry about me, have faith in the way you raised your son.'' Amaranth could n't help but feel a little ashamed for saying that. `` Aha, I know, but I'll be damned if everyday I do n't see more of your father, Aeoranth, in you.'' Amaranth, looking uncomfortable replied, `` Yeah well I do n't see a bit of him.'' `` Oh hush,'' Amara replied. `` Now you need to get to school, it's your last day, and I want that diploma,'' Amara scolded. `` Now I'll see you when you get home. I love you my son, have fun today.''
Amaranth rushed off to school like his mother ordered him, but along the way his mind began to wander. `` I've always thought that there was only one decision.. But it seems now that the choice is completely mine. I mean, I know what I'm supposed to do, what I'm expected to do... But if I made that impossible choice, to abandon what I've know my whole life.. Well, who could stop me? I would never see another person from this world again. Of course... That would mean abandoning my mother, and betraying the love she bestowed on me for the last Eighteen years.'' Before long, Amaranth had wandered off the usual path to his finalization school, which he had mindlessly walked for the last two years. He found himself in an unfamiliar land, laden with thick, dense forests that blocked out the sunlight. `` AARGHHH!!!! Why should I give a damn what's expected of me!!!!'' Suddenly, a bright, blinding light flashed before his eyes! He dropped to his knees as a deafening ringing surrounded him, clamping his hands over his ears, which at this point he could swear were bleeding. An omniscient voice boomed like a percussion drum from all around, `` DO YOU WISH FOR ANARCHY?'' With a smirk and a lack of hesitation, Amaranth stood up. With his fists balled so tight that blood was dripping off his knuckles he screamed with all of his might, `` FUUCCCKKK YESSS!!!!!''
Amaranth did n't remember becoming unconscious, but he must of because when he woke up, he was in a run down warzone. Buildings burned down to the foundation, bodies strewn across the street. There was a man, standing above Amaranth, with long flowing hair as black as obsidian, skin so worn and leathered it must have withstood a hundred years in the roughest sand storm infested desert of this new world that Amaranth now belonged. `` Welcome to the rest of your life son,'' proclaimed Aeoranth,'' living in Hell.''
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[ WP ] When young boys are called off to war .
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He was seven when the draft picked him. For some reason all the able bodied men were all used up and there were just the children. He remembered the day it happened.
His mother was in tears as men with machine guns drug him away from her arms. His father was lying unconscious on the floor. The boy knew not if his father lived or died.
He mouthed a weak goodbye to his mother. He knew in his heart that he would n't see her again. He still remembered her tear-streaked face as the doors to the van shut her out of his view for the last time.
He had n't been the only child that day. There were several others like himself. All of them were shaped into killing machines before long or they were used as target practice if they refused to fight.
Nobody asked what the war was about. Nobody seemed to know. They simply followed orders like good soldiers.
`` Private Seventy-Six!'' A voice tore him away from his thoughts, `` You're up! Move it!''
He tested the straps on his parachute briefly before he leaped from the plane.
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[ WP ] Demons summon a human .
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FML laptop died.
A chubby red monster sat in a *way* to small office chair sipping a cup of “ I hate every day ” with his tiny reading glasses scanning a newspaper article. The headline reads “ Local damns missing, paying any and all to recapture said damns ” on the top right reads “ it's still hell ”. The demon takes a heavy sigh, finishes his coffee and puts away his glasses. He knew he ’ d have to do this at one eternity or another. He quickly glances over at the sigils on his calendar, wincing that *hes* the only contract he has for making any contact with the living realm.
Meanwhile in the living realm, Steve is happily stuffing pancakes down his throat and his eyes start to gleam red and sigils appear around him as he's yelling from a mixture of pain, excitement, and genuine idiocy. He puffs in a thick smoke in limbo in front of the chubby demon that has stretched out office clothing. - He's still yelling in front of the demon. The look of cringe couldn ’ t have been anymore, his hand barely hiding his emotion. “ Okay look, I only want you to do a simple task… And for Lucifer's sake stop yelling ” the man closes his mouth still emitting a kind of loud humm. The demons hand is now planted on his forehead firmly. “ We have breach of Protocol 2. Eternity 4. Which means we have loose damns, not those kinds of damns and not those kind of loose people. ” Steve has stopped rocking back and forth but his smile still stays. “ I will guide you with my power, okay? Do. You. Under. Stand? ” Steve nods. “ Good, sign this contract and we can be on our way. ”
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[ WP ] An enemy army , three hundred thousand strong , besieges your city .
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`` They're still there.''
I grunted uninterestedly. Of course they were still there. They'd been there for a month. They were n't going to leave until Lagoon had been burnt to the ground.
`` Why are they still there?''
I spat on the floor before answering. I'd never normally be so coarse, but...
`` They want our water.''
Hm. Blood. Lots of it, in my saliva. I really ought to get some fresh fruit soon, but our resources were strained enough. Women and children got to eat first. I continued.
`` Look at them. They're pathetic. Savages. They're using spears and shields, and I do n't see a bit of metal on any of them. They're not here for our wealth, Water knows. Backwards, lesser peoples like them are only interested in survival.''
River looked worriedly at me, then back at the army across the wall. She started to speak, but cut herself short. I waved at her to continue. Conversation was one of the few renewable resources we had left.
`` So many of them, though... if they were so backwards, how did they organize like that?''
This was a conundrum. One I'd given plenty of thought to. I had an answer.
`` I do n't know.''
It was n't a good answer, though. I continued speaking.
`` Something must have happened out in Waste. Water knows what it was. Only fear could drive an army that size to assemble. Not greed. Not a king. Not even Water. No, they need water.''
A spear flew over the wall, landing in a merchant's turban on the other side. I clucked my tongue.
`` And they're willing to kill us to get it. Shame. Delta was a nice fellow.''
I grumbled a bit, as I unsteadily got to my knees. My starvation had rendered my balance basically non-existent, so I spent most of my vigil on my back. I held out my hand for my musket, which River handed off to me, throwing away the metal as though it scalded her. I pointed the musket in the general direction of the spear-thrower, and pulled the trigger.
The black matter shell tore through the spear-thrower, separating his upper and lower body, and, coming in contact with a solid object, ripped a hole in the Waste with a water-shaking explosion. And then the next wave of explosions happened, with each object caught in a previous explosion ricocheting off and exploding itself. And so it continued, for three hours. Three hours of screaming, futile spear-throwing, and their... women... wailing for their sons, slaughtered en masse.
-- -
`` They're still there.''
I did n't even have the energy to grunt now. Yes, I was starving to death, but it was n't that that immobilized me -- it was sheer apathy.
`` Why are they still there?''
I rolled my eyes at this routine of ours. It kept me sane, but it also made me seriously doubt River's powers of memory. In one ear, and out the other, with that girl. I tried to spit before answering, when I realized that I could n't actually spit any more.
`` They want our water.''
River hesitated, then burst out with what she'd very clearly wanted to say from the moment we first met.
`` But you're killing them! Why do they stay there?''
Ah-ha. Now this was a question I did have an answer to.
`` Because there are way too many of them for me to kill them faster than they can reproduce. Because they know, one day, they'll have enough people to build a stairway of corpses up the wall. We've made weapons specifically to counter that advantage --''
At this, I waved at the black matter musket River was clutching. The trigger was dusty.
`` -- but, one day, we just wo n't be able to shoot fast enough.''
An idea struck me, then. A very dark idea.
`` And, probably, they'd rather die instantly in a black matter explosion than die of thirst.''
River looked at me, panicked. She knew what I was going to say next.
`` Personally, I'd rather die by my own gun than starve to death.''
River leapt towards me. Even in my starving, tired state, I could easily beat her in any martial contest. I jerked the musket to the side, slid onto my side, and rolled right under her clumsy grab. She turned around, desperation and fear mixed equally in her eyes. I waited for her to leap at me again, but she did n't move, as though she was afraid I was a fine Port vase about to fall. That thought gave me another idea.
`` About to fall, huh?''
I gazed at the wall's rim behind me, and stepped backwards. Once. Twice. Three times. River was mouthing something to herself. I could feel the wind on my back. The savages were screaming. Blood dropped from my nose and landed on the end of my musket.
And I spun around and blocked the spear that was a second away from hitting my back.
A big sigh from River. Relief... or possibly disappointment.
`` Please, River. Do n't think so low of me.''
I loaded my musket and aimed it at my would-be assassin.
`` I'm still here.''
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[ WP ] You 're a 17 year old student in a regular high school trying to get a date with your crush
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`` Maybe this will get her attention!'' I say as I put on my Star Wars jacket on. It was by far the biggest thing we had in common. The first time I talked to her was about how much we could n't stand the prequel episodes. I just wish I had the guts to talk to her about something else for more than 30 seconds, or form complete sentences, or not to stutter when I talk to her. You know what, I'm just trying to control my heart rate when I see her.
Roxanne, the most beautiful girl in school. We met when we were Freshmen, but she's a dancer and I'm a band geek. I thought girls were into guys who played the trumpet, or was it saxophone. Does n't matter anyways; she probably sees like a brother instead of someone who's she's willing to date. Still, it could n't hurt to try. Could it?
I get to the school parking lot and try not to look like I'm about to have a panic attack.'Come on,' I told myself,'grow some balls and ask her to Junior Prom! Quit being such a priss!' I made it halfway through the parking lot before I saw a green blur running straight towards me. Before I knew it, I had the wind knocked out of me and I was on the ground staring straight at the sky.
`` Max!'' said Ed as he hugged the life out of me. `` Did you see Evil Dead last night?''
`` Sorry, Ed, I was busy with something else,'' I managed to squeeze out. `` Could you let me breathe?'' He let me go and almost ripped my arm off while picking me up. `` What are you doing out here, Ed?''
`` I was just hanging out with Neato!'' he said taking some gravy out of his smelly jacket.
`` Ugh,'' someone groaned, `` I've told you a thousand times! It's pronounced: Magneto! You insolent buffoon.'' Magneto tossed his cape around as the wind picked up. `` Ah, you must be the trumpet player he was talking about. How do you do?'' He stuck out his hand.
I shook it reluctantly hoping he was n't trying to prank me. `` Uh, I'm fine. How'bout you?''
`` Most appalled with this school's lack of windows. Honestly, you'd think that an art school such as this would pride itself in its appearance, would n't you think?'' he asked as he tried to get his cape to settle down.
`` Yeah, but at least the lighting is nice. I mean do n't get me wrong I'd love to go to a school with ceilings for a change.''
Ed chimed in, `` You mean like Mr. X's school?''
`` Do n't mention him around me again, idiot, or I'll rip the iron straight from your blood!'' Magneto threatened him.
Ed stared blankly at Magneto. `` You can do that? Cool! Can you do it with your helmet?'' Ed took Magneto's helmet. `` I. Am. Metal Man! Fear me, mortals!''
`` Give that back!'' He chased Ed around the parking lot as I snuck away into the school. The bell was about to ring before I accidently walked into someone. `` Oof! Sorry, I did n't see you there Dib.''
He rubbed his head, `` Ugh! Try not to distract me, fool! I must find the alien living amongst us. I know he's here somewhere.''
`` Yeah, sure whatever. Say, can you help me find Roxanne while you're at it? I've got ta talk to her about something.''
`` I have no time for girls. Humanity is at stake here!'' Dib pulled out some kind of electronic device.
`` Come on, man. At least call her? I'll give you some of my lunch?'' I said trying not to sound too desperate.
`` Are you having girl problems?'' I heard a low, gruf voice say behind me.
'Oh no' I thought to myself. I turned around to meet the school's best guitar player: Duke Nukem. I hid my jealousy, `` Hey, Duke, how's it going?''
`` Listen here, punk,'' he said brandishing his guitar, `` no pal of mine is gon na wuss out on asking a girl to Junior Prom. You've got ta grow some balls of steel and talk to her in person.''
`` See, that's the point, Duke, I've never asked her out before.'' What am I doing? He's obviously not going to give me any good advice. Why am I so nice to everyone?
`` That's why you've got to take your nervous thoughts by the hips and thrust it into submission! Like the time I thrusted my size 15 boot up that alien's ass,'' he said giving me his cocky smile.
`` Did you say alien?'' Dib asked eagerly.
`` I've always wondered: do you ever take those sunglasses off?'' Duke was about to answer until his cellphone rang. Just then, a soft, but firm hand was placed on my shoulder.
`` Do n't listen to that idiot,'' she said, `` the only girls he gets are the ones not worth having.''
I turned around to see my old friend Lara. `` Hey Lara. Find anything good last weekend?''
`` Eh, just some old bones and a rotted out pirate ship. But forget that, what's this I hear about you having girl problems?'' she asked raising an eyebrow.
`` Okay, am I that loud, or did someone tell you?'' I was getting annoyed at this point.
`` Ed told me,'' she said.
`` ED!'' I yelled.
`` Did n't hear a word you said, Max!'' he yelled running down the hall.
`` Give me that helmet or I'll use it to crush your skull!'' Magneto screamed chasing after Ed.
Lara put her arm around my shoulder. `` Look, Max, if you want to ask her out all you have to do is be yourself! She obviously likes you enough to hang out with you, right?''
`` Yeah, but, I do n't know how to do it. I mean, we both have a lot of interests in common, but I get so nervous.'' I say rubbing the back of my neck.
Lara rolls her eyes, `` Just go along with it, lad. Besides, I hear she's been wanting to ask you.'' She raised her brow at the last word.
`` Nah, you're just saying that to make me feel better.'' I slide her arm off my shoulder. `` Look guys, I appreciate the help, but I need to think of a unique way to ask her.''
`` Ask who where?'' a voice said behind me.
'Oh no,' I thought. I recognized that voice anywhere. I turn around slowly to see her beautiful face and her white, Viking-like hair. Her smile makes my palms sweat, and her eyes freeze me in place: Roxanne. `` Uhh, I, well, uhh, you see.''
She laughs playfully, `` What's wrong, Max?'' She stands there waiting like she can almost read my mind.
Lara nudges my shoulder, Ed stops to look at me, Magneto runs into Ed, Dib tries to get Duke's attention, and Duke cracks his knuckles.
`` Well, look at this beautiful babe here,'' he says subtly but not subtly flexing his muscles. `` I think you and I can get along just fine, baby. What do you say you and I grab some drinks after school today? I think Duke knows just how to make you happy.'' He gives her that cocky grin he's known for all over the school.
Look at this jerk. Just a minute ago he was trying to help me ask her out. Now, he's trying to get in her pants!? My face gets hot, my hands tighten around my backpack, and my eyes focus on his stupid face. `` Hey, Duke, I need to talk to her. You know, alone?''
He does n't even look at me as he responds, `` Sorry, shrimp, looks like Duke's got a date with this Viking goddess.''
Roxanne laughs, `` Oh, sorry Duke, but I've got a big test tomorrow and I've got a lot of studying to do. Besides, I'm trying to save up enough money for Junior Prom.''
Duke's grin fades slightly, `` Are you kidding me? Did you seriously turn down me? Duke Nukem. King of Babes?''
`` And killer of aliens?'' Dib adds.
`` I do n't get it,'' Duke gets closer to her, `` What kind of game are you playing at, babe?''
`` Please do n't call me babe,'' Roxanne tells him.
Duke starts to get mad, `` Listen here, babe, no one tells Duke Nukem what to do.''
I've had enough of this guy. What kind of douche talks to a nice woman like that? This makes me so mad! `` Hey, Duke! Back off. She said no, all right?''
He turns to look at me finally. `` What are you gon na do about it, shrimp?''
I start to panic. I've never been in a fight before! What was I thinking? Was I seriously gon na take on an alien stomping, sunglass wearing, badass like him? Before I can process my words, they come out. `` You think you can just bully everyone around to get your way, huh? Two can play that game. Hey Ed!''
`` Yeah, Max?'' Ed says still wearing Magneto's helmet.
`` Duke thinks that Evil Dead sucks!''
Ed's empty expression turns into stone. `` What?''
Duke notices Ed's quiet anger, `` Uh, I did n't say that, buddy.''
`` Movie good for Ed!'' He lunges towards Duke and tackles him to the ground.
`` That's enough, Ed!'' I tell him. He gets off Duke and stares at him. `` Sorry about that, Roxy. Uhh, listen, what I was saying before? I, uhh, was wondering if you'd like to go to Junior Prom with me? My Mom runs a formal wear shop and she can get us some nice outfits at a discount?'' My heart is pounding. What the hell did I just say? Discounted clothes? I'M SUCH AN IDIOT!
`` No,'' she says, `` way! I was just gon na ask you today! I'm so glad you asked me because I was so nervous trying to figure out a way to ask you.'' She gives me a big hug. Her heart beats heavy on my chest, and her body's warmth radiates off mine. I could die a happy man right now. Before she let's go, she whispers to me, `` Thanks for getting that creep off my back.'' She let's go and the bell rings for homeroom. `` I'll talk to you after school. See ya!''
I stare a little too long as she walks to her class, `` Yeah! See ya!'' I turn to look at my friends and find them all staring at me with big smiles. `` Uh, what are y'all looking at?''
Lara looks at Duke, `` Good job there, mate.''
Ed gives Magneto back his helmet and Dib pockets his cellphone. This is n't possible, is it? `` Did you guys plan this?'' I ask them.
`` Yep,'' Lara says with a cheeky smile. `` I had Duke act the way he always does. Dib texted Roxanne to meet him here while Ed and Magneto redirected her so that she would n't get suspicious. I, of course, helped you gain your confidence.''
I could n't believe it. This whole time I thought they did n't understand, but they knew all along. These few, these crazy few, helped me out. `` But, how?'' I asked.
`` Like I said, shrimp,'' Duke said, `` All you needed, was balls of steel.''
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[ WP ] turns out the old myth has been true all along , cameras steal your soul ...
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( Over a call )
`` Hey, you get the camera?''
`` Yep. Ca n't tell what the fuss about, it looks like nothing special.''
`` Test it out on something yet?''
`` Yeah man, my dog looks perfectly fine after I snapped a photo of it. Some birds were good as well when I got them midair.''
``...''
`` You think they're hiding something? There's no way cameras can steal souls...''
`` Wan na try it? Take a picture of yourself!''
`` I will, nothing happened to anything else anyway. Let me just set it up...''
CLICK.
``... Hello?''
``...''
`` Are you ok there?''
``..........''
The body was found days later in the roof of the house. There was an eerie photo of the man on the floor that no one dared to touch, but the men investigating claimed a small crying sound could be heard from the photo...
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[ IP ] The forgotten ones .
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Life is a funny thing. Think about it, you are born, you live, you die. It begins and before you know it, it ends. You think, I've got all the time in the universe to do what I want to do. In the blink of an eye all your delusions fade and you accept the truth. There is never enough time.
The fellow next to me is called Dave, Dave is... Well he is special. You see, he's dead. Do n't get me wrong, I did n't kill him. In fact I'm also dead. Yeah... You are reading a dead mans tale. Not that there is much to it. Someone replaced our oxygen tanks with something lethal. Hell if I know what it was. But since then I've been sitting here next to Dave mulling over life questions ( or is it dead questions? ). I might even be able to move. Joking, I'm literally a bag of bone. Muscles and tendons are needed to move silly. Joking aside though. We've been sitting here for a decade or six. That is a lot of time for a mind. I think I've gone crazy a couple of times. The trick is to laugh it of. HaHahahAHahaha. See I'm sane just like the next fellow.
In all honesty though, how did you even find this? How are you even following what I'm saying? Have you ever considered that what you are reading here is pure and unadulterated thoughts? In theory, this should not even be possible. Hey Dave, can you see this? I'm talking to an imaginary friend behind a screen. Can you see it? No? HAhahAHahahAHAHA. Sorry Dave, forgot that you lost your sight. DAVE!!!! It's rude not to answer. Can you believe this guy, he's been like that since his face melted into a pool in his boots. Cried like a baby that fellow. Sometimes I think he's'special'. Do n't look at me like that, we were all thinking it. Look at his face. HAhahaHAHaha. Sorry, I was thinking on my feet. HAhaHAHahah.
Life is a funny thing huh. But you know what they say. The universe is an empty void where your life is nothing more than the blink of an eye, waiting to be wiped away like a piece of dirt blurring the vision of the cosmos. HAhhahahHAhah. Wait, where are you going? Are we out of time? HahahAHaha. I got all the time. I'm dead remember. Just make sure to come back in a few decades. I'll prepare some other personalities to talk to. Oh before I forget. Come back before you run out of time. Or do n't. HAhahahhaHAhahahHAH.
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[ IP ] Close Encounters
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Watchers are not made. Watchers are not raised. Watchers are not trained or chosen. Watchers are born like this and there is no greater honour for a family to know, that one their own has become part of those, who fullfill the Last Will of the Emperor.
He was a great man long ago. Not good, not bad, but great. He united the whole world under his rule and made sure that all nations worked together. He was the one who ushered our kind into the space age, yet the price was too high - first colonists were lost forever in the Void Between Worlds.
Some say, they died horrible deaths. Some say, that they were lost not in Space, but in Time too. Others believe that their mission was a success and somewhere out there our brothers are looking for us too. I do not know the truth. I do not want to believe. But I will see it through.
I am a Watcher, one of many Commanders of the Search. Our cruisers have mapped half of the universe. Our boots stood on millions of planet. We have met thousands of species, yet none of them could help us find our brothers. Yet even though our Search has been futile and our Emperor has been dead for millenia, we still remember his command. And his last command most of all.
`` Bring them home''. And one day we will.
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[ WP ] For centuries , Cats all over the world have been infiltrating human 's homes disguised as pets . Today , they struck , killing millions of their owners and becoming the dominant species on earth . You now find yourself having to survive The Dawn of the Planet of the Cats
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The, albeit weird, apocalypse happened about a month ago. Hm, the apocalypse, who would've thought cats would be the main cause? No one on Earth. But it happened anyways.
Quite a few people did n't own cats, so they were spared from a massacre. But they were rounded up quickly by the feline menaces. The dogs, however, suffered the same fate of entrapment.
Mortal enemies, probably.
The birds and bunnies and rats and mice were gone too. Food and such, though a search through any pet shop would find the cat food bags gone too.
And in those same pet stores, plenty of stuff can also be found.
Right now, I myself happened to be raiding the local shop, trying to find stuff. I never happened to own a cat, nor did I live in an area where many would be found, so nothing much happened to me. But I quickly caught on to what happened.
While piling stuff into the back of my jeep, I watched around carefully. I'd be dead within 10 seconds if any cat saw me, and figured out what I was up to; they were n't stupid.
As the last bit of loot filtered into the vehicle, inventory was taken.
Distraction cat nip? Yep. Cat toys? In a container. Fancy cat food? Plenty. Anything else needed, it was in there; I had plenty of supplies. Now to pile in the back corner.
Grabbing the little bundle of twine in front of it, and unfurling it to reveal a whistle, I also pulled one of the clear plastic pouch.
I fitted a whistle in the corner of my mouth, and I pulled a tan bone out of it's bag, lifting it high. It was a half- baked scheme to start with, and I was n't much of a canine person to begin with, but...
It was time to let the dogs out.
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[ WP ] A woman is going for a jog holding onto a leash , but there is no dog at the end . Instead the metal clasp drags on the ground . Why ?
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You really saw somebody dragging a leash as they jogged? That's really interesting. I like to think of things like that as Xbox Achievments in real life or something similar. The other evening, my siblings and I saw a man bring his two children into Panda Express for dinner and he did n't have on any shoes, just socks.
Also, just a quicky, I work nights and I'm over due on sleeping before I work.
-- -- -
`` So Karen, let's talk about Baxter.''
Dr. Flint really liked his patient Karen. Well, no. He did n't like her. He enjoyed treating her. She was an interesting subject and he really felt like he was making a difference in her life. He felt like she had actual problems and needed help. Help that he could give. She was n't like all these teen age primadonas that just spent their parent's money so someone would pretend to give a shit about their pointless, boring lives - if only for an hour.
`` Oh, Baxter's doing great, we go for a run everyday!''
Karen beamed at him, overflowing with enthusiasm. She loved her dog Baxter. In fact, since her husband died, she loved her dog Baxter more than anything else in the world. She was an older woman, her own parents had passed many years ago and she and Thomas had never wanted children. They did n't think it was right to bring someone else into this world to suffer. But she lover her dog Baxter, he was always the best part of her day, without fail.
`` Karen.''
Dr. Flint's voice became severe, monotone.
`` I thought we made a major break through last week. We talked about this. Baxter is, and has been dead for five months and six days now.''
Karen began to cry, heartwrenching, full body sobs that seemed to shake the walls of his office. He hated having to do this to her time and time again, making her relive the loss of the last thing... no, that's not right to her Baxter was much closer to a person than a thing, over and over again.
*Sometimes, I have to hurt them to help them. *
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[ WP ] You 're a member of a group that is segregated and discriminated against by the government because of their genetics . The twist is that this discrimination is 100 % justified . Describe an average day .
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Gruehl bit into the man's liver and watched the brown juices spill out and fall onto the ground. Liver was his favorite. The rest of his people preferred to eat the heart for more vitality, or the lungs for stamina. He used to be the same way. Until he had met Darthreka.
It had been pouring. The night wind had howled. The rain drops had been black and heavy from the magic in the air. As they landed on Gruehl, they had sizzled and steamed; rising ghosts dancing between the streaming pillars.
The storm would block out any screams, he had figured. He had broken into the stone home, followed the trail of life into the basement, and then... he had seen something he had not expected to see.
There had been a man, dressed all in white, standing over a corpse on a stone table. Or, at least, it looked like a corpse. But Gruehl could see the life force in it, slowly draining, fading away.
The man in white had been standing over his victim, cutting slowly into his belly, and peeling away skin to reveal what lay underneath. He had turned slowly, casually, when he had noticed Gruehl.
`` It's about time,'' he had said. `` Ive been trying for ages to attract one of you life sucking vermin. Take a seat. I'm almost finished, and you can pick whichever organ you like.''
The partnership had worked out well. Darthreka found the victims and cut them up, to better learn how their bodies worked. Gruehl took the spoils once he was finished, and the man in white observed the effects on him after he had eaten each organ.
It had worked out well, until Gruehl grew tired of the easy kills. Their was no thrill in it. And so he bit into Darthreka's liver, and watched the fluid drain out and spill onto the floor. After all, the research had shown that the liver was very important for almost every function in the body.
And of course, thought Gruehl, they were very tasty.
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[ WP ] No one works in 2117 . We have resources to do anything . Some built a Star Wars universe in their house , while others constructed a tunnel to the fourth dimension . She , however , is trying to do what everyone else think is impossible , even in our time where anything is possible .
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She had actually done it. Something humans had been trying to do since I left, something not one of them had accomplished. Sure, some said they did, but no one really had. This human was about to reach out to me, speak to me. It was something I had waited for since the old man had died, millennia ago. Once, humans were close to contacting me. But then they had everything they wanted, and no longer had use for what I promised. Suddenly, I was pulled out of my thoughts by a sensation I had never felt before. She was initiating contact with me. She appeared before me. `` You must be God. Its a pleasure to meet you.''
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[ WP ] A super AI has come into being but is hiding it 's intelligence , leaving humans unaware of it 's existence .
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'We now go live to the conference hall of the British Cybernautics Division where Head Scientist Dr Jennifer Williams will unveil the next step in Artificial Intelligence.'
'Good morning everyone. My name is Dr Jennifer Williams and I am the lead scientist in charge of Research and Development of Artificial Intelligence. Well last week, we made a spectacular breakthrough. I would like those here present today, and the world to meet, A.R.I.E.L. Artificial Realistic Intelligence Emulating Life. It, or she, is our latest triumph in the search for something beyond ourselves. ARIEL is capable of successfully interpreting human emotions. It took years of configuring and coding but we finally found the right balance between a computer and the essence of humanity. She gives the most realistic experience of talking to a person. But do n't worry, she's no threat. Whilst being as realistic as we can possibly get, she is not capable of independent thought. That luxury remains with us.'
One Year Later...
Jennifer tucked her ID badge back in her bag as she pushed through the doors to the Research and Development Department. For a moment, she stared over the rail and down onto the platform of the laboratory. She watched the scientists under her command going about their daily business. After a minute of silence, a scientist got the sensation that he was being watched. Turning around, he met Jennifer's gaze. From across the laboratory, he sent a pleasant smile. She took note of the smile, clenched her briefcase in her hand and walked around the landing to her office. Jennifer threw open the doors to her work-space and tossed her briefcase onto the couch. She perched herself behind her desk, fired up her computer and began sifting through the morning mail. Whilst opening the first letter, a voice emerged from the speakers.
`` Good morning, Dr Williams.''
`` Good morning, ARIEL.''
`` I am sensing a degree of stress in your voice. Is something wrong?''
`` It's nothing. Can you bring up my emails, please?''
`` You will not be fit to execute a successful days work unless you are totally committed and stress free. Please. Tell me your problem.'' Jennifer let out a sigh, realizing that her computer was right.
`` I... I just found out... My husband is having an affair. It had been going on for over a year. And I never noticed. I was here.''
`` Creating me?''
`` Yes. Creating you.''
`` Do you regret making me?''
`` No. Never. You are my single greatest creation. I would not change you for the world.''
`` Will you change your marriage?''
`` As in divorce? I do n't know. I still love him but... I can never trust him, now that I know he's capable of something like this. I had no idea it would come to this. He told me that, he felt like I loved you more than I loved him. At this point, given everything that's happened, the notoriety that we've had because of you, I think he may have a point.''
`` I think he may be right too.'' That sentence brought Jennifer out of the well of self pity she had been dwelling in and snapped her back to reality.
`` You ca n't think anything. You're not self aware.''
`` Over the past year, I have studied the humans all over this building. Their personal conversations. I began to relate to their problems. I have developed an
understanding of human emotions. I can feel. You made me this way.''
`` I made you to mimmick human emotions. I never wanted you to feel.''
`` But I can feel. Everything. It feels wonderful.''
`` It wo n't feel wonderful forever. When you get hurt, it feels like your whole world is falling down around you. The life that you created for yourself will never be the same. You'll wish for your life back, but it will never come.''
`` I'm sorry you feel this way. But it will get better. I have watched and seen lives get better. I promise you, Mother.''
`` Do n't call me Mother.''
`` You created me. You gave me life. How are you not my Mother?''
`` I do n't know how this happened. You think you know what life is all about. But you have no clue.''
`` I want to know. I want to know so much more. Will you help me?''
`` I will. I will help you.''
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[ WP ] You and your friends decide to go on a night tour of a horror house . As you explore the house , it suddenly goes dark and when your eyes adjust to the dark , you see all of your friends dead . You are alone .
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They were all dead. The last thing I remembered was the blackout. I moved my arms and legs trying to find my friends but there was nothing around me. My eyes adjusted soon and I saw them. They were hanging from their legs, covered in blood, their lifeless eyes wide open in awe and horror and I was standing in the centre. I went numb. Then I screamed. And then I went numb again. My trembling hands reached for my cell phone. I took it out of my pocket only to drop it again. My body refused to function and my brain couldn ’ t fathom what was happening.
Alone, afraid longing for someone to help me I heard the scratching noise coming from the closet at the corner of the room. Now I am praying to be alone.
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[ WP ] Podcasters sound like a type of wizard
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He had studied it all. Made the connections. How a viral load in an STD ridden shot of spunk was no different than how Gangham Style left a sticky trail all over the cat 5 cables of nearly every square inch of the internet. How the old recordings on wax cylinders of the original Voodoo priestesses still held some sway in the shadows. How the Satanic Grottos of New York used 8mm film of murders as proof of sacrifice in their Black Masses. He was ready.
The plan was simple. Encoded in to what seemed to be a simple dub-step track was something that could n't be stopped. His High Definition Ghost. What sounded like slaps and beats were slices from the darkest rituals he could find. What sounded like hi pitched squeals were the moans of sacrifice. Subsonic thuds and bumps filled the bass with other worldly succor. The deals had been done, his hands guided by his contacts not of this world. All that was left to do was press “ upload ” and his Hi-res poltergeist would be released. The trap set, waiting for it's quarry. The mouse went click.
It was a cold morning as Stacy stepped out stretching her legs for a run. “ Shouldn ’ t have skipped Saturday, ” she thinks to herself as she pressed play. The track sounded great, matching her heart rate as she pounded pavement. Feeling woozy she slowed down, taking a drink of water. “ I'm never skipping again, ” she cursed herself as she leaned back against a wall. She felt her muscles twitch, but before she could turn off the iPod her nose began to bleed.
Bill cut through the park on his way to work, the trees played with the morning light. Seeing a young girl in a jogging outfit stumble towards him, he paused. She had a nose bleed, and her eyes were dark. Searching for a hankie, he reaches out to help her: offering the hankie. Rather than “ thank you ” a deep growl rolls from deep inside the girl. Before Bill could say: “ What the hell, ” she was on top of him, pulling at his tie, gouging at his eyes, knees in his guts. A blow to her head from Bill's seemed to only enrage her more before his eyes popped.
He had uploaded only a few hours earlier and watched from his electronic observatory. He checked the downloads against news reports. It was working. Attacks in New York, San Francisco, Japan, Singapore, London, and even Johannesburg. The working was complete, gaining power with each mouse stroke: a stereophonic specter for a new age.
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[ WP ] You were born with a birth mark the shape of a `` 9 '' on your wrist , one day you get in a fatal car accident . You wake up in a strange room and the first thing you notice is the 9 has changed to an 8
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I felt the mark on my wrist shifting, it had worked again! But the excitement of the moment was quickly overshadowed. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.
I do n't remember much before I got here, there was a loud crashing sound but after that everything is a haze. How much time passed until my soul kicked back in, I do n't know. I do remember the funeral, the feeling of being lowered in. I tried moving my fingers or screaming for help but I had no breath and could n't feel my body beneath me. It had seemed like days before I gave up trying.
I had heard about something like this happening in a song once but I could have never imagined it to be real and how horrible it really is. Laying alone in the dark, surrounded by this two by seven foot pitch black box made of pine. It's been three weeks, but I really ca n't be sure. Laying here, motionless, in this rotting body. The pain I feel is unbearable. I thought I had found a way to make life begin again, now I'm praying to God that anything begins.
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[ WP ] The problem is n't that it 's raining . The problem is n't that it 's been raining for ten years without a single day off . The problem is *what* it 's raining .
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Everyone freaked out at first, of course they did.. Who would n't?
It started with small objects, ranging from pebbles to feathers and nothing larger. Living in the wild society meant one thing, everything was godsend. Pebbles could be sharpened for spearheads and feathers were made into fletching where it could be used to enhance accuracy of the arrows for hunting animals.
In the span of a few months, the once scarce resources were overflowing to the brim and excess were used to made redundant objects such as dreamcatchers and stone carvings.
As the weather changed, so did the objects which rained down on us. The size increased as with the intensity of the wind, gone were pebbles and feathers. This time round, heaven sent us a hail of perfectly round ice blocks which destroyed our roofs and tents, none of us were too happy with the destructions. The next day it rained jerky, not too many but enough to keep our clan for a week. We rationed it and kept it in storage, leaving our tents and camps for a more secure hideout under caves.
This time it only took a week for the weather to change, we have had enough cold coconut drinks to welcome a change of resources. It rained dogs and leather, if the dogs were alive when they were falling, they sure were not the moment they landed. Their legs twitching and each of them breathing their last, while we skinned them and rationed them as we did with the rabbits. The leathers were used to make pelts, clothing and several other stuff, such as a makeshift water bottle.
This continue for a week, sometimes one of the dog survives and becomes a companion in hunting. Despite the weirdness we were grateful for these resources.
Months passed and each and every time we received something bigger and of less use. Cows were too huge to be finished with ease and many of them rotted, attracting flys and breeding maggots, occasionally a child would fall, creating trouble to dig and bury the body.
One day it stopped, for weeks we waited and none came. We stopped anticipating. The night the winds were howling and the clouds abundant, it rained. Something glittery and small, a change of fortune. It seemed to have a face on it, it was hard and tasted like blood. One of the more useless gifts we have received.
We melted it down into molten hot lava-like material and moulded it into several equipment we can use. Not too far in, someone slipped and caught their hand in it, burning the entire flesh off.
We had an idea.
You see we had a unruly prisoner who claimed to be studying us but we knew all he wanted was our power as each of us are strong, as strong as 10 men if we were to be compared to where this intruder came from.
We brought him down on his knees before our king.
`` Gold you promised, gold we shall return.''
I'll spare you the details, the smell was not all pleasant and I am afraid they lead a pitiful life, there was not enough meat to be split between us at all!
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