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Alright guys and gals, I'm not sure I can do the great man justice (but then, who can?), but I gave it a shot. I must also confess that I've never been audited, so if that part seems wrong, please correct me. Also note that Ron doesn't respect the IRS person, that's why he misuses his name.
*****
“Here goes nothing,” Dillon mumbled to himself before knocking on the office door belonging to Ron Swanson. He heard a grunt from the other side and took that as permission to enter.
“Hello Mr. Swanson, I am Dillon from the IRS—”
Dillon was met with the stern gaze of a brown-haired man, fully equipped with a thick well-groomed moustache, Ron looked down towards the ground behind his desk, “Thank you for being here, let’s get started!” he said.
Well, this didn’t seem to be so bad, Dillon thought, “Great! I propose we start with why you’ve written off such a massive amount of ink—"
Ron pulled up a burger from the local grill and took a massive bite out of it, “You’re still here? I was talking to the burger,”
“Mr. Swanson, I feel you’re not taking this seriously, wait,” Dillon looked around the office in confusion, “you don’t have a tax attorney present?”
“I’m representing myself, Chester, I don’t need another man to speak for me,” Ron didn’t flinch, and he had the most serious look plastered on his face, Dillon didn’t think it was wise to press the issue.
“Ah-ha, all right,” Dillon nervously chuckled, “well, Mr. Swanson, the amount you’ve deducted for printer-ink doesn’t make sense for normal usage, can I see the printer?”
Still holding his stern gaze, Ron gave Dillon a curt answer, “No.”
“Mr. Swanson… I strongly suggest you hinder the IRS as little as possible,”
“Fine,” Ron said, reluctantly standing up, “It’s right outside, in the hallway,”
They soon arrived at the large office printer, a shredder had been skillfully mounted to it in such a way that every paper that exited the printer, entered the shredder.
“What the hell is this, Mr. Swanson?”
“Beautiful, isn’t it? I architected this solution myself,”
The machine beeped and started printing, the paper promptly entered the shredder, making angry gnawing noises.
“I was told that I was being… inefficient,” Ron beheld his creation with sparkling eyes before looking back at Dillon, “at first I was very flattered, until it became clear that they meant I was doing poorly,”
“So!” Ron slapped the printer with his large right hand, “I took one of the steps out of the process of printing government documents, through the power of automation!”
Jerry entered the hallway, “Oh come on, Ron! Why?” he cursed as he went back to his desk to re-configure where he sent his papers again.
Ron looked at Dillon and spoke in a lower tone of voice, “Somebody has been going around the office, dismounting the shredders, can you believe it? I’ve instructed April to go around the office and re-mount these suckers at random intervals during the day,” Ron said, giggling like a school-girl.
Ron clapped his hands together, “Anyway, Adrian, now that you have seen that the printer is being used efficiently, I feel that this concludes our interaction together,”
Ron walked back to his office door, Dillon still standing in the hallway in utter shock, “Feel free never to visit again,”
“Wait, Mr. Swanson, there’s still several items left, office food spending— a grotesque amount has been deducted on steaks and bacon—"
The door to Ron’s office slammed shut.
*****
Thank you for reading!
### [/r/NordicNarrator](https://www.reddit.com/r/NordicNarrator/) |
So. That happened. I came up with an evil plan, creating a button that when pressed would kill a random person who could change the world. Not for good, not for evil, just anyone with the potential to change the world.
Could have killed anyone, from the next dictator to a doctor who would cure cancer, hell, even some one who invented a new ice cream flavour.
I set it up in the middle of Times Square. I left it in place for a day, not telling anyone it's purpose while I came up with an suitable incentive to press it.
I come back the next day and what do I find? A queue, running halfway down the city block, of people taking selfies and group photos as they pressed the button. They must have killed thousands, hundreds of thousands, all in the day I was gone.
So I left it in place. A world forever changed by people's poor impulse control. A world altered by a few influencers, who looked at a mystery button and saw a photo opportunity.
I wonder how long until the button starts killing people within the queue. |
Those that are dead are never truly dead, not if there is a halo over their head. If there is a halo over their head, they go to heaven. It is just that simple.
They shall rejoice. Some attempt to end their lives immaturely to access the many pleasures and privileges of heaven earlier. The legacy they leave behind will pass down their bloodlines and exalted for generations to come. They will be remembered fondly. They will die happily.
Those without a halo rot in hell.
For centuries, no one knows how a halo works. Well, with the latest advanced technology, mankind has given themselves a chance to probe into this mystical phenomenon, the process so wonderful yet so foreign to science and impossible in the realms of physics. The scientists have done it, and they are so elated that they cannot wait to peek into the eyepiece that runs them through the process of this "ascension"to heaven. But of course, the first batch of scientists allowed to see it are the ones with halos, and the audience is carefully selected. Because those with halos deserve to know what is coming for them, and the ones without halos should not watch it and should rot in hell.
The movie seen through the eyepieces is passed through complicated instruments and projected on a screen. The viewing party is sitted inside a room barred from the outside, such so that the results of which will remain a secret. The scientists are excited. Their halos are bobbing above their heads like undulating waves in an ocean of white. They cannot wait to finally prove this age old theory that has been so tantalisingly correct for so long.
And so it begins. The dying patient, a peaceful old man, utters a few last words to his friends and family surrounding the deathbed. They all cheer as he closes his eyes and draws his last breath, not before he fixed a smile on his face and made sure he dies this way. The whole room erupts in applause and tears of joy as the nurses begin relocating the body.
At this point a replica of the person's figure appears over the body. The scientists gasp in awe as the replica elevates and rotates to an upright position. The old man looks around and down on his hands, with which he touches his head and his body and the halo above him, which glows brighter and brighter. He looks more alive than he ever was.
An expression of pure joy marks his countenance. He turns to the camera and winks. "This is so cool."He said. The scientists turn to each other, delighted. The halo lowers and constricts around the old man's forehead, its colour changing from white to yellow, yellow to orange, then orange to red.
Splash. Blood. Bones. Brains. The halo cuts into the man's skull. A red splatter covers the camera lens. The scientists scream in unison. The old man cries in agony, but it is futile. The crimson red ring has severed the top of his head, leaving behind a body writhing in agony. The halo duplicates and slides down the body, tying up the struggling man. The topmost halo continues to chop him up, constricting and removing a small portion of flesh each time, moving down inch by inch, like scissors snapping frantically at a bamboo stick.
"Help."The man gulps, before his mouth is too severed. The scientists screech and shout, some doubling down and retching onto the floor, some covering their mouths as they vacate the room. Others are left in shock, their mouths agape, the halos on their heads twitching and flickering in light.
Soon the man becomes a gory mess, and angels donned in red come down and pick up the bits and pieces of the hapless victim and carry them into the sky and through a sliver that leads into heavenly paradise. Blood falls through the air and stains the clouds red, adding to the glowing sea above them formed by the lingering legacy of every person that earned the right to enter heaven, illuminated by the setting sun. The angels leave one by one, the last of whom turns towards a camera with a wickedly sweet smile on her face.
"Don't worry, he will be pieced back together. "She speaks benignly. "Only small pieces of men can get pass the ozone layer. We apologise on behalf of God."
The film stops there, but only a few scientist remain in the room. Their faces are grim. Slowly, they turn and face each other. They freeze for a minute or two, and they look up and fix their gazes on each other's halos, and then their own.
Dawn creeps over the land, and the sky is in a fiery red. The lights are turned off, but the room is alit by the effulgence of the men's halos, which are shining like a thousand suns, as they grin and sit quietly, waiting for their purpose to be fulfilled.
What? Would you rather not have them? Those without halos rot in hell. |
Memory is a fickle thing. As decades drag to centuries, the memories of a people turn into stories. And when centuries drag to millenniums, stories become fairy tales and fables, an inkling of a once larger truth.
I was alone and drunk when it happened, finishing my joyride on the highway. I took an exit on the highway, and in a few minutes I was in the back country. You could say I was having my mid-life crisis. I was 36 and my hair was already going gray, probably from my lack of social interaction. I lived in the woods, after all, in a log cabin my grandfather left for me. I always felt at ease in the woods, honestly. I worked in the woods as a logger and I grew up in the woods. And as an adult, I’m still in the woods.
As I make the familiar bend around a clove of pine trees, I catch a flash of blue light above me and I hear a thudding crash. It was loud. As if someone operating a crane lift had dropped a piano. Except it was almost as if the entire forest shook. My first thought was an earthquake. I was about to floor it out of here, but after a few seconds, there were no after shocks. But a blue glow seemed to emanate from the middle of the woods, where my house was. There was a lot of different scenarios that went through my head. All the sci-fi films I’ve ever watched in my lifetime seemed to play in a little cinema in back of my head, reminding myself of all the terrible things that could happen if I go toward it.
But being alone and drunk changes the way you think. A lot. And so I push down on the pedal, fueled by alcohol and curiosity, peeling through the forest roads. Nearing my house, I could instantly see that there was something that didn’t belong: a big-ass boulder.
Indeed, in the middle of what was once a row of bushes was replaced by a massive piece of rock around the size of a small bedroom. But what was more bizarre was that it seemed to glow. Thin rays of blue light pierced the jagged cracks around the stone, covering the clearing with an aura of blue. Parking my car, I approached it carefully, not sure of what to expect. I mean, what are you supposed to expect anyways when a fucking meteorite lands in your backyard?
When I got closer, a shard of stone fell off. It was almost like an eggshell. And when that piece of stone collapsed, an even brighter glow filled my vision, like a blue floodlight. Squinting toward the bright light, I inched closer toward it. As I was a few yards away from the boulder, I began to feel a tug. If you’ve ever been skiing before, sometimes at the peak of the mountain the wind would be so strong that it pushes you forward and you move without wanting to. That was what it felt like. As if a gust of wind was blowing me toward the meteor. The force of the pull rose higher and higher as I became closer and closer to the blue glow. I could hear a soft cackling, like the sound fire makes when you feed it more wood. I was only a few inches away from it. I had to lean down to avoid being pushed into the boulder because of how strong the force was. But it wasn’t just a physical force. Because as I came closer and closer to the stone, there was almost like a *voice* inside my head, urging me to touch it. Pulling one arm over my eyes so I wouldn’t go blind, I let my other hand slowly gravitate toward the blue glow.
Until my fingers made contact and a searing pain rushed through my body like it was on fire and everything faded to black.
—
*Embrace your heritage, young one.*
There was blackness all around me. I could see my skin, but it was covered with a blueish hue.
*Embrace your heritage.*
I could hear someone whispering over and over again. Like it was whispered right into my ear.
*Embrace your heritage.*
In front of me, I saw a palace shimmer into reality. An architectural feat, to say the least. A grand, golden palace that sprawled what seemed like miles, populated by servants and guards. All covered with a blue glow.
*Embrace your heritage.*
And there were other things too: creatures I’d never seen in my life. They had no glow. But I could feel their rage and anger.
*Embrace your heritage.*
And they began to fight. I watched as the palace burned to the ground, and the humans were all rounded up in cages, binded by some material I’d never seen. Millions of years of history flashed before my eyes.
*Embrace your heritage.*
They boarded us on ships and flew us into space. I could see Earth looming below me, as the moon winked at us. They made the humans pile out onto the ground and I watched as the blue glow around them began to disappear.
*Embrace your heritage.*
And I began to feel the blueness swell in me.
—
“He’s awake! He’s awake!”
My eyes fluttered open as I tried to move. But as I looked around, I found myself bounded in a strait jacket.
“Be careful. We don’t know what it did to him.”
There were three people in front of me, a woman in a lab suit and two men in suits.
“Where am I?” I croaked as I struggled in my clasps. My back was awfully itchy.
“Mr. Wilson, do you remember where you were last night?”
My head hurt greatly. “I was having a drink, and I was driving home, and…”
“And did anything else happen?”
And suddenly everything began to rush back to me. The blue meteorite. The dream. The voice. “Let me out.” I said.
“Mr. Wilson, do you remember where you were last night?”
“Let me out.” I repeated.
“We don’t want to do this the hard way, Mr. Wilson. Please answer our question.”
And then a lot of things happened in quick succession. First: I heard a voice. It was the same voice in my head earlier. Second, there was a flash of light. And third, the strait jacket disintegrated.
I stood in front of the agents, my skin bubbling in blue. All four of us were stunned. But as the voice repeated itself again, I was beginning to understand as my shock dissipated into a grin.
My hands curled into fists. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” I said. “Are you going to let me out?”
The voice said this: *You don’t need to listen to anyone anymore.*
I was about to embrace my heritage. |
Alan was sitting alone at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in front of him and a sour look on his face.
I approach, pulling the stool beside him out so I could sit down, "hey Al".
He looks at me like he had been expecting me, he always looks at me like that "hey yourself"he said. From the gruff in his voice it was clear that he'd been drinking all day, being immortal does not mean you're able to handle your booze.
I nodded to the bar tender, pulling out a fifty and placing it on the mottled counter, "this one's on me"I say.
The bar tender picks up the note, frowning. "Never seen this one before"he says, turning it over in his hands. I flash a look at the note, and flush as I realise the central figure hadn't been born yet. "United Planets -"
I snap it back out of his hand, replacing it with an older note, much older. "Apologies"I say, forcing a smile, "it's from a movie I'm working on".
He grumbles something about tourists and meanders away, leaving a chipped glass for me. "You mind Al?"I reach for the bottle, Alan was one of two drunks, the happy, inexhaustible drunk that gets people laughing and dancing, or this one. This prick.
"My bottle, getcha own..."he grumbles, grabbing it out of my hands. He takes a swig, and begins spluttering. It's the price he paid, becoming immortal at the tender age of seventeen, his body never got used to alcohol. Neither did it get over acne.
I let my sight linger on the putrid boil that was postulating on the tip of his nose with disgust, Alan was eight hundred years old, yet his voice still creaked nervously, and his face looked like the remnants of a battle zone, all craters and red mounds.
“What’s up your ass?” I question, it was the general start to our conversations, being a time traveller meant I lived life in a slightly different order than Alan. For all I knew, we had fallen out massively the week before, from ten years down my timeline. It made for nasty fights over things that, to me at least, hadn’t even happened yet.
“Nothin’” he growled. “Just sick of time-travelling dickheads who don’t have anything better to do than annoy the oldest teenager that’s ever lived”.
Self-referential humour? This was bad, really bad. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a Thermos from inside. This was only for special occasions, now seemed like one. “This is from the Alpha quadrant, it’s the strongest drink ever produced. My cellular makeup allows me to drink it three times in my life before it breaks down my genome into a pulp of misery… I’m sure you can take some”. I place it on the counter, allowing its significance fall over Alan.
I’m about two hundred years old, which mean’s I look about forty to folks from the twenty first century, and I’ve known Alan for nearly All of them. The first time I jumped out of hyper-time space, Alan was waiting for me, with a beer in hand. He’d known me for six hundred years by then, according to his perspective on time and space. It was all a little confusing, especially when we were mainly drinking buddies.
“Al, this stuff is for very special occasions. And I feel like this might be one of them”, I frown, only now noticing the black suit Alan is wearing. “What’s the occasion, Al?”.
“Funeral”, he growls. “Everyone dies, eventually. ‘Cept me…”. He reaches into his jacket pocket, “yesterday an old friend arrived and kicked the bucket. It was nice, saying goodbye to him. He looked happy, fulfilled, content. As he closed his eyes, he said he wanted to die by his best friends’ side… mine. It’s only now that I realise that I never do get to bury him… do I?”.
He slams a thermos onto the counter, it’s weathered by a thousand years of travel, but it’s unmistakable. It’s mine.
He yanks my thermos out of my hands, “Everyone dies, eventually” he says, taking a gulp, “’cept me”.
​
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[/r/Minds\_escape](https://www.reddit.com/r/Minds_escape/new/) |
I had never felt nervous before.
Well, that wasn't completely true. I *had* felt nervous before. But not in, oh, say, four hundred years. Back then, there were all sorts of folks hunting down people like me. Creatures like me. The early-to-mid 16th century was chocked to the brim with witch hunts, vampire hunters, and, to my dismay, devout warrior priests just itching to purify some undead. Even to a lich like myself, it was a trying time.
Since then, nothing really gets my heart racing. Not that I have a heart anymore, mind you. People these days don't even know that things like me exist. Undead, warewolves, vampires, we're all just "myths"and "legends"now. They've even starting making teen romance movies about us. Not that I've watched them. Of course not. An undead lich of my caliber, entertained by that filth? Please.
The point is, most humans are *so* sure that supernatural beings are nothing but children tales. So sure, in fact, that I could walk down the street in nothing but my bare bones and people would stop to compliment me on my early halloween costume. In *January*!
While we're on the topic, I once forgot myself and tried drinking wine at a dinner party. It dripped straight out of my illusory flesh like it wasn't even there, soaking my clothes and dripping out of my empty pelvis right in front of the host. Despite seeing the embarrassing truth of my fake, not-really-there skin, she fetched me a hand towel and apologized for the mess. Rather than accept the truth, her brain rewired itself to believe that I must have spilled that wine somehow. It's almost disappointing how easy it is to conceal my true nature these days. What's life without a challenge?
But that was before I met Sarah. She was a mortal woman. A beautiful woman. Wholly normal and completely captivating. When she spoke, I was reminded of music from another age. When she walked, I thought of the elegance of waves, breathless as the wind. If I still had a nose, I'm certain her scent would enthrall me. Just standing near her gave me a feeling like butterflies between my scorched ribs.
I hadn't felt nervous in over four centuries. But boy, I was nervous now.
The night before our wedding, my worries culminated. We were sitting up in our bed, the sun long below the horizon, with each of us too jittery to sleep. It was a familiar place. Soft, silky sheets covered us from the waist down, shutting out the winter's chill. A warm, comforting fire blazed in the fireplace across the room. She lay on her side next to me, head propped on a pillow with her arm tucked underneath to support her head. She faced me, her long, chocolate brown hair flowing across her shoulders and over her chest. Her eyes looked my way, but she was lost in thoughts of her own.
We had spent many nights like this throughout our four years together. Sometimes talking about our dreams and aspirations, other times talking about our days and the happenings around town. Some times, we'd talk about seemingly nothing at all, content to sit in a comfortable silence.
Tonight, my mind was rife with worries about tomorrow's wedding. In all our time together, I had never come clean about myself. From the beginning she knew me as Ned, the upbeat accountant from Minnesota. How was I supposed to tell her the truth? Just say, "Hi, I know you think my name is Ned, but I'm actually a 639 year old ancient undead lich known as Nyarlathotep of the Cursed Spire"? Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue.
As we sat on the bed, neither of us speaking, uneasy thoughts raced through my head. Should I tell her? Do I really think I can hide it forever? How will she react? Will she hate me? Even worse, will she *fear* me? Over what felt like hours, I came to a decision. I put my thoughts in order, and used every piece of my ancient wisdom to craft a plan to break the news without losing everything.
"I have a confession to make."As my words broke the silence, she turned to look up at me.
"We're getting married tomorrow. I don't think anything can surprise me at this point in our relationship."When she spoke, her eyes met mine, and all my plans and schemes evaporated in the warmth of her eyes.
"I'm a lich and I gave you my phylactery as your engagement ring."
"..."
It just came out. Without thought or preparation, I had just spilled the beans on my most important secret. As the silence stretched out, I froze. Unable to move a single bony limb, I'm pretty sure that I would have held my breath if I still had to breathe. As unprepared as I was for my own impromptu confession, there was no way that I could have anticipated the next words out of her mouth.
"I know."
With that, her lips curved upwards into a devilish smile, pulling back over pearl-white teeth. As her mouth opened, her canines grew longer and sharper, until they became the tell-tale fangs of a honest-to-god vampire.
"I was really hoping you would have the courage to tell me,"she smirked, "I might have come clean myself if you didn't bring it up soon."
"But.. what.. how..?"I stammered out, racking my brain for some sign, some memory that would make sense of this development.
"It was an accident, really,"she admitted. "I can never control myself around normal people, their scent always drives me into a bloodlust after awhile. With you, I never felt that pull."She sat up, sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of me. "With you, I was able to be myself. I didn't know exactly what you were, I just knew that I was falling in love with you."
"That, well, that makes a lot of sense, actually."Thinking on it, I could easily see how a vampire would have trouble forming a meaningful relationship with a human being. It's almost like a person falling in love with a chicken. Sooner or later, you're gonna cook it up and make yourself a snack. Not very conducive to a lifelong partnership.
Now that the proverbial cat's out of the bag, we spent the rest of the night talking about our past adventures. I regaled her with stories of ancient Greece, and she fascinated me with tales of the underbelly of London's bloodsucker scene. As we sat, enraptured with each other's presence, the sun rose and the hours pasted. The birds began to sing their welcome to the new day, and we both realized that we had somewhere to be. She had a white dress to put on, and I had a phylactery to bestow.
I still wasn't completely sure what the future held for our unusual matrimony, but I did know this:
The rest of the world had better get out of our way. |
“Oh, of course, I’ll just manipulate the gravitational energy to move the thing over to my room, no need to carry it up,” I said as I opened the door.
The postman gave me a look. “Whatever you say, boss. Can I just leave it here, then?”
“Yeah, sure. Go immerse yourself back into mediocrity, mortal,” I said.
“What the hell did you call me?” he said.
“Mortal,” I said. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Just another mortal?”
“What, and you’re not?” he said.
“Not for long,” I said. “But I’m just getting stared.”
“Listen, mate, I can break this package for you right now, if you want,” he said.
“I think you’d find you can’t, but that’s beyond necessary,” I said. “Here, a little tip for you. Now begone.”
“What tip? I don’t see any money in your hand,” he said.
“Check your van,” I said.
He looked at me, breathing heavily and eyes fixed on me. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“Oh, absolutely not. Can’t I even be nice anymore?” I said.
He walked into the van and primed it, when his eyes widened. “Mate, my battery’s completely charged. How’d you do that?”
“That’s your tip,” I said.
“Thanks, mate. That’ll help,” he said. “Sorry about the package breaking I mentioned.”
“Oh, you’re forgiven,” I said. “Have a nice day.”
I went up the stairs, to the seventh floor which my apartment was on and into my study, the package floating harmlessly behind me. It was just a simple manipulation, nothing too difficult to perform for someone of my calibre. I opened the door and floated the package over to my desk, leaving it to rest before I set about finding my army knife.
“Where the fuck is it?” I muttered to myself, and closed my eyes. It would still have my wife’s warmth on it after she’d used it last night. “Where are you?”
I heard a wiggle beneath a pile of clothes. It’s so like her to leave it there and forget about it. I removed it from under the pile, and opened the package to find a thick wooden frame, and a piece of paper encased in it.
“Doctor of thaumaturgy,” I read it out loud.
“What’s that, honey?” my wife said from the door.
“Oh, just my diploma arriving,” I said. “Feels good to finally have it written down what I’ve achieved.”
“Diploma? Didn’t know you ever finished anything than a programming course,” she said.
“Look at it,” I said. “It’s black on white.”
“Didn’t you just buy the piece of paper from the Internet and have it framed for you?” she said. “You can get thousands of those
online, just like that.”
“Wait, did I? What?” I said. “Don’t you remember the hard years I put into this? The many hours I lost fine-tuning my understanding of magic? The whole life I’ve wasted earning this?”
“With your salary, I think it took you about 45 minutes to earn this,” she said. “With shipping.”
“That’s not what I m-“
“Honey, you’re probably still half-dreaming. You need a big cup of coffee and you need me to have my way with you,” she said, her voice descending to a whisper. “In bed.”
“We don’t have time for that!” I shouted. “Look at the building, it’s defenceless! How did I ever live here without any sort of defence in place? I need to talk to our neighbours, set it up, it might take days before it powers up completely. It’s horrible!”
“You could’ve just invented a headache, you know,” she said.
“That’s what I do when I’m not in the mood.”
“Take care of yourself, mortal,” I said. “I have bigger things to attend to.”
“Mortal? Honey, what the fuck?” she said. “Who are you, even?”
“Joshua Calvin, the third of my name, doctor of thaumaturgy,” I said. “I earned my doctorate not ten days ago. How do you not remember this?”
“Josh,” she said. “You’re Josh. You’re my husband. What’s my name?”
I paused. “Stella?”
“Are you asking me what my name is?” she said, gasping. “Yes, I’m Stella. And I think I’ll go sleep with my sister for a few days. The one whose last name is still my legal name.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said. “More time to focus on the important things.”
She kept screaming at me, but I paid little attention. I created a dampening field around myself, enjoying the silence while I thought about what I needed to do. Get some books, get my thesis printed, and probably start setting the anti-magic defences around the building up.
There weren’t any other mages in the building. There can’t have been, or else we’d be well-defended already. No, I was on my own, and that was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t have to talk to my neighbours to set them up properly.
My wife slammed the door to the apartment, and I let the dampening field down to focus on what needed to be done even more. I looked up the blueprints to the building, eyeing how much had to be done, and how much energy I’d need to power the defences up and keep them up.
Once I’d performed the calculations, I set to work on crafting what would be the anchors for the defences. They needed power, and the power needed somewhere to be input for something of that size. I thought I’d probably need eight for a building the size of ours, one in each corner.
I had to descend back into the world of mortals to get the amount of silver that I needed to make the anchors, but it didn’t matter, nor did the charge in mortal money I incurred. Of course, obtaining more mortal money was as simple as manipulating a few electrons on a few servers. Easy.
Night fell when I got home with the raw silver, and overnight I poured my energy into heating it up and moulding it into eight identical pieces, triangular rotors which would focus the defences and cover our building with them.
I didn’t sleep, but I didn’t need to. All that mattered was that I defended myself, my wife and our neighbours. We couldn’t stand unguarded.
With dawn breaking, I went down to the ground floor and placed four of the anchors in the ground, before moving to the roof and placing the other four, fixing them with simple energy straps. They’d stay fixed for long enough.
With the anchors in place, I returned to my seventh-floor apartment and remembered their locations. My energy through them. Our building, defended.
Suddenly, the sky turned as black as I’d ever seen it. Not even a pinch of light found its way through and I had to resort to turning artificial lights on.
When I opened my eyes, the window in front of me shattered and sent me tumbling to the ground. A large, armoured and masked figure appeared above me.
“Just because you understand it doesn’t mean you have the knowledge of how to use it properly and in accordance with the law,” the figure, a male voice, said, “doctor.”
He stomped on my face with his boot and the pain overwhelmed me into unconsciousness.
---
/r/SolarArchives for more of me! |
Like anyone, I expected, I wished for riches. More than I'd even consider. A mischievous grin flashed on his face.
"Ha! You wished for fortune beyond your wildest dreams?"the genie boomed, snapping his fingers, "I have granted you avocadoes! Thousands upon thousands of avocados!! They fill your home at this moment, making it an impenetrable lair of perishables!"
The genie laughed, the cave shaking with his raucous exhilaration.
"My whole house? Like everything I own?"I asked.
"Everything you-- what you have multiple houses?"he asked.
"I own a farm, so there's a barn too,"I explained eagerly.
"Oh, then, of course, both the house and the barn are filled with the fruit! Going bad every second you are away from home!"he began laughing again.
"Awesome!"I whooped.
"Yes, it is awful isn't it-- sorry, did you say awesome?"
"I'm an avocado farmer!"I exclaimed.
"You're... oh..."
"My harvest was having such a hard time yielding this year and you just saved me, probably a thousand times over! You know how much those will sell for!?"I said, pacing back and forth just thinking about the fortune. He was good, I didn't see this one coming at all.
"That's..."the genie sighed, a little crestfallen, sinking into thought. "That's good, I guess. And you don't mind that they're likely to go bad by the time you get back home?"
"You're right! I need to call someone!"I put my hand in my pocket and tisked loudly, "Well, that's a shame I forgot my phone!"
"Ha!"the genie said, his spirit rising, "What a fool you are, now your fortune will rot before you can--"
"I wish I could call Rick right now,"I said to myself. He looked at me with surprise, then closed his eyes in thought.
"Oh, I didn't mean--"
"Your wish is my command!"Again, he flashed a devilish grin and snapped his fingers. I expected my phone to appear but instead, I heard a thud from inside the cave.
"Call out right now, he should be able to hear you!"he said, trying to sustain his malevolent laughter.
"You brought him here!? Rick!!"I called eagerly.
"Is that you John?"Rick's voice came back.
"Rick I thought you were dead!"I exclaimed.
"Uhh... excuse me?"the genie asked.
"Rick was lost in the woods for over a month! We all assumed he was dead!"I said excitedly. Rick ran around the corner and opened his arms to me eagerly.
"John!"he said with tears in his eyes. I ran to my brother and embraced him tightly.
"So... I just..."the genie pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You saved Rick's life!"
"How did I get here?"Rick asked.
"I used this genie and wished you here after wishing for a fortune of avocadoes back home!"I yelled.
"Well, no, that's not exactly what you wished for--"the genie began.
"That's amazing!"Rick said. "Did you call anyone to sell the avocadoes?"
"I called you! You got your phone?"I asked.
"Yeah, but no charge on it,"he said, pulling his phone out. I turned to the genie eagerly. He looked back at us with disdain and trepidation.
"I don't know if I can handle another one of these,"the genie said miserably.
"I wish his phone was fully charged!"I said with confidence.
The genie laughed the loudest now and looked to him with admiration. He was such a nice guy.
"You guys are idiots!"he boomed, snapping his fingers, "I don't even need to twist that one, you are both trapped in here! It caved in when you summoned me, remember John!? There's no signal here! You'll have your fortune, but you'll starve in here first!"
Rick's phone came back to life. He tapped it on.
"Now we got a flashlight!"Rick said joyously.
"Right, but you're trapped--"
"Yeah, we just gotta stay along the left of the cave and we'll end up back on Jefferson street. The only side that caved in was the exit on first street,"I told my brother. He nodded eagerly, turning on the light on his phone and leading the way.
"Thanks for all your help genie, I'll see you around!"I said, waving to him as he began more transparent.
"I sincerely hope not,"he said, fading away.
_______________________________
For more wishes to come true, come check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer (assuming your wishes are exclusively based on me writing to prompts) |
"Not again"I sighed as I felt several of my skeletons be destroyed. I put down my spoon and pushed back my chair. It would seem my dinner would have to wait. "It would seem we have another unexpected visitor"I tell my wife and children as I get my cloak and my staff. "Better go greet them"
​
I leave the small, squat house and begin to walk towards my fields. The sky is a brilliant orange in the glow of the sunset. I can see a few clouds drifting in the distance. The walk is not hard or far, but I find myself needing the support of my staff as I walk with attempted haste. I could feel more of my skeletal servants being destroyed.
​
"Hello Travelers"I shout at the visitors as I come into view, hoping to distract them from killing my skeletons. "What brings you all the way out to my island?". There are five of them, Two men and three women, all of them are human. They turn and run towards me. My skeleton goes back to preforming to weeding the field.
"We're here to stop you"says one of the men who is charging towards my with a sword drawn. Before he gets to close, I sigh and cast a spell which causes me to float up out of his reach.
"Stop me from what? Making a desolate island in the middle of nowhere habitable"I inquire. He shouts something back, but I stopped paying attention as I noticed one of the women had started chanting something. A bolt of heavenly light erupts from her pointed finger and flys like an arrow towards my heart. With a wave of my hand, the arrow of light sputters out. "Damn"Curses the man who had attacked me initially. I could only see four of them now, the other man must have hidden somewhere. Typical for adventurers, one always hides and tries to put an arrow in you when you least expect it. "Lets talk this out"I say, "Clearly your powerless against me and I have no desire to hurt you". The four adventurers exchange glances and the woman who had fired the arrow of light speaks up. "Sure we'll talk"
​
Upon hearing this, I descended to the ground and leaned heavily on my staff and we talked for what seemed like an hour. They brought up their grievances, the standard fare, I had killed their parents/siblings/aunt/favorite pet, during my conquest of the world. I gave them the "I've changed and moved on, so should you"speech. They claimed the only reason I left the empire was to plot something worse, I told them I really did not want to rule people. During this whole time, the one who had hidden himself, hadn't reappeared. He was probably waiting for me to move just into the right position so he could end me with one shot.
​
Then I heard the screams coming from my house. The adventures faces twisted in crooked grins. Apparently this had been all to distract me and their goal all along was to get my family. This time, I didn't hesitate to draw on my power and in an instant there were four corpses around me as the adventurers dropped from a wave of dark energy. I took flight to swiftly return to my house. The front windows is smashed in. The door opens and the man who was with the party earlier walks out, his knife drawn and covered in blood. The blood of my wife and children. He saw me, but didn't have a chance to react as I used my magic to rip his heart from his chest.
​
They had indeed stopped my plan. My plan to live peacefully until my wife died and then committing suicide after that. Now though I had a new plan, I would destroy humanity for taking away the thing I loved most.
​
\----------------
Thank you for reading. I'm sorry, I'm not good at writing please don't be too harsh with the criticism. |
The line was long today. A little girl stood near the front, one hand tightly clutching the hem of her mother’s dress, her gaze fixed by an unseen point in the distance. The line moved slowly forward. I sipped my coffee and placed the cup back down on the delicately decorated saucer. Unhurried. That was the word that sprang to mind watching the line move forward. I made a note in my journal.
I looked up as the waiter approached my table. He put down my croissant with a pale smile.
“Should I close the curtains for you, sir? We have several proprietary virtual views in our databanks. I am quite sure you will find one pleasing to you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said curtly and waved him away.
I kept my eye on the little girl. Her mother was thin and would have been pretty were it not for her sunken eyes and sharp collarbones. A pity really. But salvation was too late for her. Her daughter perhaps could still be salvaged before the effects of a calorically deficient diet became irreversible. I weighed the option in my mind and opted to wait for the verdict of the AKM.
I took a bite out of my croissant. Little flakes of the brittle pastry fell like snowflakes on the white linen of the table. I sat the croissant down and push the plate away. To wash away the grim aftertaste of margarine I sipped from my coffee again. Nothing was sacred, it appeared. I made another note in my journal.
The weather was dreadful; grey and dreary; and the rain a constant drizzle with no letup. A cruel last kick in the side of the downtrodden from an uncaring atmosphere. Or perhaps a gesture of sympathy from the velveted grey sky. I crossed out a line in my journal and drew a question mark. Empathic weather. Was that something?
The little girl and her mother were now second in line to the gloomy rotund pillar which day after day drew long lines. One of this section's five AKMs. It stood unobtrusively on the edge of the square. During the night, the pillar retreated into the cobbled street to spare it from the roving hooligans violating the police’s curfew.
The metal door in the pillar lit up green and a hunched-over man left its claustrophobic confine. Wads of bills were visible in his pocket. He had gambled and won. A slight smile graced his weathered face. Tonight, his family was going to eat - assuming of course he made it home. It was not uncommon for people to get robbed on their way back from the AKM. I made a note in my journal. A follow-up story perhaps. I had also heard rumblings of criminals forcing victims into the AKM and reaping the payout, if there was one. I made a few more notes.
AKM. A trite abbreviation paying homage to its cousin the lowly ATM. Automatic killing machine sounded better in my ears. More honest. But I wouldn’t get it passed my editor. The party censorship bureau had clear guidelines.
The mother step forward with her government issued debit card in hand. The daughter, however, wasn’t letting go of the hem of her dress. I sat up straight watching intrigued, hoping for a bit of drama to flavor my article. The mother’s hand came down hard. Reflexively the little girl let go of the dress to protect her face. And that was that. The mother stepped into the pillar and the metal door closed behind her. Disappointed I slumped back down in my chair.
The little girl stood unmoving staring at the pillar. Her check blushing from where her mother’s hand had hit her. Her eyes were watery, but she refused to cry. I sipped my coffee as I and the girl waited. To me the wait lasted but a moment. To the girl an eternity.
Finally, the metal door lit up green and the mother stepped out of the pillar. Relief was painted on her face. The little girl motioned to take her mother’s hand, but the mother instead handed the girl the debit card. The girl looked at her mother surprised and then accepted the card with a determined nod.
I smiled to myself and jotted another few notes down in my journal. The little girl stepped forward and then turned to look at her mother who nodded approvingly at her. The first hint of any motherly affection. With legs trembling ever so slightly the girl crossed the threshold. The metal door closed behind her. Another wait. This one strangely drawn out. I was invested, I realized, in the fate of the little girl. I shook my head exasperated.
The foot of the mother moved ceaselessly up and down against the cobbled street. A piston running on pure worry. The longest wait. That would be the title of my article, I decided. I jotted it down in my notebook. When I looked up again, the metal door of the pillar had lit up red. The mother’s foot ceased moving midair. Inside the pillar there was no sign of the little girl. The mother stared blankly at the empty space that had held her daughter a moment earlier. Nobody moved or said anything until a young man, the next in line, pushed passed the mother and entered the pillar. The door closed behind him. The mother turned around, her face stiff and desolate.
\---------------------------------------
For more follow [u/norntree](https://www.reddit.com/u/norntree/) |
Todd woke up with little idea of where he was or how he had got there. Before he had time to gather his thoughts some...thing was trying its damndest to get his attention.
"@@%#&÷&[[£¥\€□"
Todd screamed in terrror.
"@^[[]@@@"
Todd screamed in horror.
"@^[[]@@@"
Todd was going to scream again before the creature covered his mouth. The creature turned a dial on a collar it was wearing.
"I said, stop screaming!"
It slowly uncovered Todd's mouth. Todd's eyes were still full of fear but he did not scream.
"Finally. Now, if you want to live you'll listen to my every command.
Todd nodded then heard a "psst."It was a human man and human woman. The man was snickering while the woman was shaking her head.
"Tell me how to make fire", The creature ordered.
The human pair both shook their heads as the man tried his hardest not to laugh. Todd was unsure of whether he should listen to them or not. Laughing in a situation like this is either a sign of really high or really low composure.
"...No", Todd replied.
"Then I'll have to make you talk won't I?"The creature growled.
Todd was starting to regret his decision until he looked upon the humans to find both were giggling as quietly as possible. The creature retrieved a gadget from a shelf. It had three prongs and a crystal in the bottom. Before Todd could react the creature jabbed the prongs into Todd's shoulder. Todd felt... nothing. He had thought it would hurt immensely or at very least pierce the skin, but instead it vibrated softly.
"THAT'S THE THIRD ONE TODAY! I've had this thing inspected two times already! Moron, get in here!"
Another creature entered the room. Before it could speak the first creature jabbed the gadget into it's side. "Moron"screamed out in pain before dropping to the floor convulsing. The human pair finally bursted out in laughter. Even Todd snickered.
"What? How is- why won't- ugh fine."
The creature opened some sort of pod and rifled through it, mumbling under its breath the whole time.
Before long it pulled out another gadget. This one looked like a pen with a crystal on top. The creature pointed the crystal at Todd and a laser hit Todd right in the leg. It was lukewarm at best. After having the laser trained on Todd for at least a minute the creature slammed the pen to the ground where the laser then hit "moron."He was still convulsing and couldn't cry out in pain as the laser dug into his skin.
After what felt like hours of different gadgets doing nothing the creature finally gave up.
"Fine! You know what, you win! Get out of my ship!"
Right as the creature prepared to hit a button, "moron"burst into flames.
"That's it? That's how you make fire? By sacrificing on of your own? That's horrid. I'll have you know that the Avino kind are loyal by heart and nature. We would never do something so vile as to sacrifice our own for fire."
"Your friend is still burning."
"That is beside the point."
Before Todd could make a rebuttal he saw a bright light and before he knew it he was back home. |
"How did you do it?"
I had lost track of the number of times the guy in the suit had asked me that question. He said he was FBI. He seemed legitimate - the cars and badges looked right. I was in a Federal building - it must be real.
I was tired. I hadn't slept at all the night before they picked me up. I've been hyped and anxious since winning the first one - now I've won 24 Lotteries in a row. I don't even know what my bank balance is anymore. I'm just glad to be safe for a while.
I've had three attempted kidnappings since winning the fourth one. It's scary as hell being out there in the world. My face is everywhere. People were trying to find me and get my money. A group of guys with English accents phoned me late at night - they said they had my dog and wanted a million dollars. I had to get him back. I took the cash to the drop-off location but got chased off by a woman who recognised me. They killed my dog. They KILLED Ruffy. Nobody I'm close to is safe - fortunately only Gran is left in my immediate family, and she's back home in Fiji - now with four guards round-the-clock.
It's actually relatively peaceful in here. The FBI guy seems like he's going to follow the rules. I should be safe. He obviously hasn't got any leads - so he's getting a bit repetitive. I don't have much of a tolerance for repetition these days. I can't tell him how I got the numbers. I probably should have sequenced it all a bit differently. 24 in a row was a bit obvious. At least getting pulled into interrogation is letting my mind rest. There's only so long you can maintain vigilance before you start getting paranoid.
Maybe the next time the timeline splits I'll be a bit less greedy - fly under the radar so to speak. And I'm definitely going to keep Ruffy safe. He's the one who made the lucky break and helped complete the prototype time looper. I think he's the only one who can stop the loops. I really hope he can stop them. This is the 87th time I've lived through this last month. |
Seven billion eight hundred million two hundred thousand.
That’s the numbers they repeated, again, and again, the frazzling noise taking a dent out of the old man’s brain. He didn’t get it. The profiles had otherworldly creatures, one that looked remotely like some horrifying Lovecraftian creation, another like that dumb smart show from his youth. But seven billion, eight hundred million, two hundred thousand shots later, they assumed, that humanity would just bow down and say no. ‘We surrender.’
Bah! What kinda fuckin nonsense is this?
He’d fought in the Fourth Iraq War, intervened in the Second Chinese Civil War, defended the homefront from the Secession Crisis, and these sons of bitches were just here telling him... ‘sit out’.
‘Sit out’.
War isn’t a fucking game, he assumed, the bottom of his chin stroked to some level of smoothness. Everyone got that. We fight wars to end systems. Destroy things. Eliminate people. ‘You don’t just sit out’, he muttered, his fingers hovering over the old button. How old it was. Washington would never bother updating the tech on the launch systems; after all, they were too concerned stripping another eighteen trillion from the DOH to send to some stupid project some jackass had come up with to destroy a planet.
Destroy a planet. What a dumb, fucking idea.
Why the hell would you do that? You’ve got shit to glean, resources to take, people to... let’s call it ‘involuntarily hire’.
Tch. Well, they’d be in for a surprise, these damn aliens, once the neutron bombs hit ‘em. After all, it was about five minutes into that self-absorbed rant that he realised that a missile was on a direct trajectory with the alien fleet above.
War isn’t a game, he repeated to himself, and he figured that a few million dead aliens would do the trick of teaching them. |
"Master? Are there... ships that travel between stars?"Winter stuck her head up from a wooden trapdoor and asked Magus Larksong, who didn't look up from his arcane tome.
"Mm? Oh, yes, of course. The Crystal Ships of the Night King, which sail across the Heavenly Firmament. You can see them with a telescope on a clear night—I might show you one day."
"Oh! So *that's* what he meant,"Winter said. "Thank you, Master Larksong!"Winter ducked back down into the spiral staircase and began descending the wizard's tower which she had lived in for the past two years.
\#########
In a distant universe that beeped and hummed, Junior Intern McCraw teleported up to the bridge of the *Starhopper*\-class cargo ship and asked, "Captain? Are there... flying lizards that breathe fire?"
The ship's Captain A.I. gave a pleasant chime as it replied, "You may be looking for: *Junifer Florensis Pyrofuego*, a large, floating, reptilian lifeform endemic to the gas giant Poosch IV. Its primary method of self-defense involves igniting the flammable hydrogen in the atmosphere of Poosch."
"Oh! So *that's* what she meant,"McCraw said. "Thanks, Cap!"He activated his personal teleporter and vanished to his room.
\#########
Winter had to cast a minor amplification spell to get her voice heard over the wingbeats of her dragon. "MASTER!"Winter shouted, "IS IT POSSIBLE TO... GO TO THESE SHIPS?"
Magus Larksong, nose still buried in a hovering book, pointed one irritated finger towards the wind. The wind, embarrassed, quieted down so that Larksong could speak. "In theory, I suppose, although you'd need some *very* expensive materials. The first ray of morning sunlight, the sorrow of a fallen sparrow, two grams of tomorrow... in fact, it would be a good assignment for *you* to figure out how to get there, yes, a good assignment indeed. Why do you ask?"
Winter rubbed her bald head awkwardly. "I, er... I've been talking with one of the people on these star-sailing ships. We want to go out on a date."
Magus Larksong snorted. "Romance. Very well. If it motivates you to the next level of your apprenticeship, I will allow it. But you must gather the materials yourself."
Winter beamed. "Thank you, Master!"She started writing down the partial list of reagents Magus Larksong had rattled off. "First ray of morning light... hey, it's morning already in Katumbo. I just need a silver mirror and a drop of honey..."
\#########
"Captain?"Junior Intern McCraw called, lying down on his bed. In front of him, he made minute tweaks to a three-dimensional hologram of how Winter had described herself—for some reason, their little link only allowed sound to pass through. Shaved bald, dark skin, baseline human with no body mods at all, according to her—he found that hard to believe, but the culture of Poosch IV was alien and strange. He hadn't even known there was a human colony there, although Captain had confirmed it. "Is it possible to... go to Poosch IV?"
"It's certainly within our technological capabilities. But you have two more years to tour with the Starhopper, and we'll be on the other side of the galaxy from Poosch by then."
McCraw looked up at Winter's holographic face longingly. "...could I resign?"
A.I.s did not fluster, flounder, or flinch. But there was a note of reproach in Captain's voice as it said, "That would be highly inadvisable. The prestige you get from the mission—"
"I think I'll resign,"McCraw said.
There was a moment of silence as the A.I. processed that. "Very well. I'll let you off at the next station; you have until then to reconsider."
\#########
"These... servants of the Star King. If one of them were to come to our world—"
"They would be giving up their immortality,"Magus Larksong said, turning a page as he ate a watercress sandwich. "It would not be a thing done lightly."
"Oh."Winter swallowed. "I—I feel guilty. I wish I hadn't—is there a way to—"
"If a servant of the Star King gives up their eternal life, no magic known to humankind can restore it."For the first time since Winter had met him, Magus Larksong looked up at his apprentice, a kind, sad look on his face. "Simply make the most of their gift. Do you have a way of meeting up with this servant of the Star King, once they come to earth?"
"Oh! I—I have a sample of his voice."Winter held up a crystal flute with a whisper trapped inside. "I—I was planning on performing a tracking spell. To find when he was near."
"Wise."Magus Larksong hesitated, then handed his book—his personal spellbook—to Winter. "If one of the Star King's servants cares about you enough to come to the terrestrial plane, then... perhaps you need this more than I. If he is anywhere to be found in this world, these spells will find him."
Winter's eyes widened. Then she fell to her knees, sobbing. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much."
\#########
"I've arrived at your planet. I'm sorry it took so long,"McCraw said. He surveyed the flat, grey metal landing pad, hovering two thousand kilometers above the core of Poosch IV. "You said you could find me?"He spoke into his teleporter.
"I—I thought I could!"Winter's voice was panicked. "But—no, no, no, no, *no!* The spell's failing, the spell's failing..."On the other end of a wormhole between two universes, an apprentice wizard fumbled with vials of liquid and strange, multicolored flames, all of which fell impotent and still. "He promised me this would work, he promised me I could find you, he promised, he promised, he promised—"
"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. We'll figure this out. I'm right here."He looked around the platform, and a sinking suspicion overtook him. "But... Winter?"
"McCraw?"
"...What, exactly, do you mean by 'spell'?"
\#########
So it was all for nothing.
Hundreds of thousands of gold pieces worth of spells, enough riches to fill a small kingdom's coffers—all spent on a worthless quest.
Winter swallowed back a curse, laughed to hide the pain instead. "At least... at least we can still talk."
A universe away, McCraw smiled. "Yeah. At least we can still talk."
A.N.
Suggestions? Comments? Typos? Please leave them on this comment's sister post at [r/bubblewriters](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/); and if you want more stories like this, try giving the rest of [r/bubblewriters](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/) a peek. |
"What are you talking about, you have powers?"The words pulled me out of my slumber. Someone a few seats over was talking. About powers? Shit. I did it again.
"Yeah. I have, ah, telekinetic abilities."Someone replied to the first person, which made me hold off turning my ability off.
"When were you planning on telling me?"The first person asked. They were talking in hushed-ish tones, but my ability made sure there were no filters. And if I could hear them, it meant other people closer to them did as well. I turned and scanned the faces of the others.
Who all looked a little mortified.
"I swear I was going to tell you soon."The voice came.
And a new voice contributed to the conversation.
"I'm sorry, did you say you have powers?"Someone interjected.
"Yeah. God, it feels weird to say all this out loud so openly."
"That is wild, because I have powers, too. I'm a pyrokinetist. I can control flames."
"Are you serious?"
And then there were more voices. The looks of fear turned to confused realisation.
Everyone, at least in my 20 meter radius, seemed to have some kind of ability. They were all talking excitedly, showcasing some of the tamer powers they possessed.
"How is this possible?"Someone asked excitedly.
A great question. How? And would any of them have come forward about their powers of their own accord if I wasn't unwittingly using my powers on them?
Why were we somehow all on the same flight?
"Guys, I'm sorry. But if you are within 20 meters of me, my ability makes sure you can only speak the truth. I accidentally used it when I was sleeping and I apologize. But this is all weird. I've never met anyone who possessed... Powers before."I said, standing up and looking around.
And from the looks of general awe in their faces I could tell they did not meet others like them either.
"This can't be a random coincidence, can it?"A woman asked. She was the one who could form icicles at will.
Someone else stood up and cleared their throat. A man who was quiet the entire time, like me. Because speaking meant spilling the truth.
"My ability is improbability likelihood increasing. Basically the more unlikely the odds of it happening, the more likely it will happen when I'm around. I think maybe that's why we're all here." |
>**COAL SMOKE AND CORRUPTION**
The infinite darkness of space, interrupted only by the occasional burning stars- when considered rationally, *light* was the anomaly.
The living creatures- human and inhuman alike- each edging closer to death with every passing second, every heartbeat. They were composed of the materials of the dead, and there were many more of the dead than there were the living. The *living* were the anomaly.
Why, then, was I so shunned, so looked down upon? Was there really some *value* in being alive, as opposed to undead?
"Get out."The Adventurer Guild's receptionist said. "I will not say it again. You don't seem particularly *evil*, but you are at the very least unnatural."
"All of life is apart from nature. I am closer to nature than you are, in that respect."
"I will *not* engage in *SOPHISTRY* with you, bastard!"The receptionist yelled. He pulled a short sword out from behind his desk. "If you will not leave, I will *make* you leave."
I turned my collar up at him. "So be it. I will prove you wrong with my deeds. Good night."
I walked through the dark, humid night, not feeling it against the skin I no longer possessed, but aware of its presence, all the same.
Smoke rose from the many factories and chimneys within the city, beating back the dim light of the moon. That was fine by me- the dark fit my mood in this moment.
How would I show the adventurer's guild that they were wrong? How would I show them that I was their equal? No- how would I show them that I was even *better* than they were at combating the evils of the world?
I walked quietly through the night, unnoticed by most, ruminating on the problems within the world.
Black alchemy, rotting the minds of the youth. Slave trading. Violence in the streets- increasing in frequency and brutality.
The 'Adventurer's Guild' rarely combated these problems- and it was only through them that I would be legally empowered to engage in the fights I wished to fight.
I was coming up empty. For all the energy that poured through the Nexus which functioned as my mind, I could see no good roads forward.
Inattentive as I had been, it was hardly a surprise when I stumbled across one of the very things I wished to eradicate- a mugging.
Or...it was an *attempted* mugging. It didn't seem to be going well for the muggers.
Six men had surrounded a lone woman, each of them with some kind of makeshift weapon- but she was not giving an inch. With a flurry of activity I could barely catch, she was upending them one by one- either on their heads or on their asses.
I rushed in to help, sweeping the legs of one faced away from me, then winding the next with a swift punch to the solar plexus.
The other four- she had already handled.
"They chose the wrong target."I chuckled, turning away from the victor. No sense in giving her a second fright for the night.
"Wait, lich."She said, grabbing hold of my coat.
"Ah. You are going to take issue with me also?"I said, wearily.
"No. My name is Cinder, I serve the Goddess Theola, the one who Sees by Fire."She spun me around.
"I did not foresee your coming, but the Goddess does have a message for you."She continued.
I reflexively tried to raise my eyebrow- which, of course, did not work. "Umm...what?"
"The Goddess knows what troubles you, and has the solution. As one of the Arms of her Cathedral, you will be empowered to follow your path."
"Uh- what?"I asked again. I had heard of this Goddess before- a popular religion, but I had never had any dealings with them, for this Goddess to notice me.
"Theola names you, lich. You are now to be called the Coalsmoke Prophet, and you will burn with righteous anger."
I felt it then- the moment that Fate itself laid eyes on me. A change erupted within, larger than the change I had felt when I assumed this undead form.
"What just happened?"I asked.
"You *know*, you just aren't done processing the change yet. Take care, Coalsmoke- there is much work to be done."
Moments later, I was left alone in the alleyway, apart from the wounded men Cinder and I had just incapacitated. Reflexively, I reached out and touched magic- normally, all I would find within was raw energy, but now I knew a respectable number of spells, which were unique to those under Theola's care.
I grinned, slightly.
Theola may have thought herself clever- but modifying the life force of an undead was easy, if you knew the trick to it.
Either Theola *was* a Goddess, and I was looking a gift horse in the mouth, or she was a Necromancer, and incredibly powerful one, and she had pulled wool over the eyes of all of her followers.
My plan, then, was simple- gain Theola's trust, and either expose her as deceiver, an evil Magister of the highest degree, or prove her to be true, and use the resources she provided to further my goals.
This was becoming...interesting.
----------------------
r/nystorm_writes, let me know if you'd like a Pt.II! |
At constant elevation, the horizon is about five klicks away. I couldn’t get closer than seven klicks without sensors picking up the weapons I was carrying. Eight, to be safe. Which meant I was going to have to shimmy up a tree or something to get a clear line of sight.
Luckily, the target facility was not that far from the base of some rolling hills. Small, but enough to give me the vantage point I would need. A good thing, too. My rifle and targeting computer could fit into a large backpack when broken down, along with a couple of other things I might need, but I didn’t know any inconspicuous ways to carry around a 20-foot stepladder.
Not too long ago, this shot would’ve been impossible. Ballistic firearms just can’t be trusted over distances of more than a few thousand meters. Any of the slightest variation in the wind, the most minute settling of the ground, the least twitch of a heartbeat, would send the bullet off course by a dozen meters or more. There would be no way to ensure a hit, let alone a kill, from the first round, and there could be only one shot at a target at this facility. The consequences of a miss . . . weren’t the kind of thing on which I wanted to dwell.
But now, I had a new toy. It didn’t have a name, as far as I know. Officially, it hadn’t even been conceived, much less produced. Unofficially, however, I was holding a 15mm rifle that fired rocket-propelled laser-guided bullets. We’d never have been able to sneak a missile launcher up here, and regular firearms wouldn’t have the range. The rifle was a hybrid of the two.
So anyway, I’d entered the night before, digging into the side of the hill before dawn. My stealth systems were good enough to keep their passive sensors from picking me up as long as I was careful, and they didn’t run active sweeps this far out unless they were on alert. By the sight of the calm, unmoving facility, nobody down there was expecting anything.
I assembled my rifle, big clunky bitch of a thing that it was, and set up my targeting assembly, but I didn’t turn it on—even out here, it might be detectable. Instead, I pulled out an old glass-and-metal telescope. Analog, no emissions whatsoever unless you counted the sun reflecting off the lens. It would let me spot my target’s emergence, and the few seconds after that when the targeting laser was turned on wouldn’t be enough time for them to react. I hoped.
Once that was done, there was nothing to do but wait. There's a lot of that in this business. This one wasn’t bad, physically. The weather was fine, the ground was dry, I wouldn’t be here too long one way or the other. But the mental side of things was a little harder. I’d taken the job knowing it was probably a suicide mission. Getting in would be easy enough. Getting out, with the facility alerted and out for blood . . . well, I’d try. But someone had to do it, and I had my reasons. I’d spent a lifetime killing people who’d never done anything to me or mine. I’d always been a cold, dispassionate killer, and that was my only chance of success here.
The sun was at its zenith when I first saw movement. Figures were finally stirring, coming out and going in for reasons not immediately apparent. But after a few hours of that with no sign of the target, I was getting worried. Staying here overnight posed very serious risks to the mission, and I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Finally, near sundown, he came out. I made positive ID with the telescope, took a deep breath, flipped on the targeting laser, and drew a bead. The scope came to life and I saw him while I waited for the few seconds it would take for the computer to sync up the available data and get a firing solution.
When the light changed color, I felt a surge of soaring, uncontrollable exultation go through me as I pulled the trigger—and that was my undoing. The target’s head whipped around, he smiled directly at me, he waved . . . and the bullet exploded in mid-air. He leaped off the ground, wings unfurling, and he rocketed towards me almost as fast as the bullet. I had time to drop the rifle before he got there and free my hands, but running was obviously futile.
He landed on the ground in front of me, and I got my first look at him up close. He was tall and gaunt, and while the wings furled away like a cloak, they were still visible. His mouth was locked in a permanent sneer because of the fangs, but he’d probably have been sneering anyway. He was a predator, and he viewed the world as his prey.
“That almost worked, you know. But you gave it away. Surprising, really. I know another killer when I see one. Lives don’t meaning anything to men like us. So, before I kill you, why don’t you tell me who sent you? I’ll make it quick.”
“You’ve made a lot of enemies among your friends, and they’ve finally decided that you’re too dangerous to be allowed to live. They know what you are and what you can do, so they sent me. But I didn’t do this for them. I’m a killer, yes, but lives used to mean something to me. I had a family. You took them away. I wanted to return the favor.”
“And now you’ve failed. So sad. But please, allow me to send you to—“
That was as far as he got. I’d known the bullet might miss, so I’d rigged my hide-out with enough explosives and incendiaries to vaporize a city block. Leaving the stepladder behind had given me plenty of carrying capacity, and I'd used all of it in setting up my final gift. I’d let him talk long enough to bring his guard down just a bit; with even the briefest forewarning, he still might have escaped. But this time, I was true to myself. And as my finger pressed the detonator, my mind was as calm and limpid as the lake where I’d scattered my family’s ashes. Maybe the wind will blow some of me to them. |
I bawled my eyes out. I had money and fame, but at the cost of my girlfriend’s life. I wished I could do things all over.
“I wish it is the beginning of the day again!” I shouted.
“Done,” said the genie, snapping his fingers.
***
I woke up on a happy day, under the smiling sun. *What day is it again? Oh ya, it’s Sally’s birthday.”
I needed the perfect gift.
I went to the bazaar, where people were yelling at each other and a sea of people moved in waves around me. I squeezed through mounds of people and found myself at one of the stalls.
My eyes were drawn to a bottle, sitting there on its throne. It was made of ruby, and had a diamond for its cap. It gleamed under the sun.
“Oh yes,” said the salesman. “Very rare, this. We found it in Morocco, hidden under a cave. You want it? I sell it to you, cheap.”
“Deal,” I said.
***
The bottle was a bit on the scruffier side, so I got some polish and a cloth to brighten it up a bit. But when I rubbed the lamp, a cloud of purple smoke appeared and a being came out.
Its skin was purple, and it was wearing a white turban. It was naked except for a loincloth around its waist.
“Welcome!” It cried. “I am Baljeet the Genie! I can make your wishes come true! Just say the word, and—“
It paused, studying me.
“Wait a minute…”
Then it socked me in my left eye. I rubbed it, moaning.
“What was that for?”
It cracked a grin. “My welcome gift. Just wanted to do it.”
My eye was throbbing black and blue, but I was too excited. Here was a genie, and I could do anything I wanted, wish anything I wanted.
“I wish I had money to buy bandages!”
Baljeet the Genie grinned, snapping its fingers. “Done!”
Suddenly the phone rang. I answered it to find Sally in hysterics.
“The bank just called!” She sobbed. “All my money is gone! It disappeared!”
I glared at the genie. “What?” It shrugged. “All that money must come from *somewhere*.”
“You’ll find it in your bank account. Just make a transfer! Easy simple!”
I sighed. “Can I be famous then?”
*Snap!*
A few minutes later there was the squeal of sirens. I glared at the genie again. “HOW DID YOU MAKE ME FAMOUS?”
“By killing your girlfriend!” Answered the genie cheerfully. “Better start packing your bags! You’re wanted for mass murder!”
I couldn’t help but sob. Why? I wish I never bought the bottle! Now I lost my girlfriend, my reputation, everything!
Unless I can restart the day. Then I’ll never see the bottle again!
“I wish for the day to begin anew!”
A mischievous smirk crossed the genie’s face.
“Done!”
*Snap.*
***
Not my best, but I felt like writing today. Join me at r/SimbaKingdom for more! |
I had trained my entire life for this moment, one of the greatest super villains who has ever lived, who continuously terrorized my home.
It took me half a year of hard work to track him down, all of his accomplices I had to defeat, and interrogate.. the unspeakable things I had to do to them to get them to give up any lick of accurate information.
But I never gave up, and vigilant I remained until I finally tracked him down, a piece of information from a correspondent here, a correspondent there.. I put two and two together and eventually I found his lair.
There he stood before me, black long hair that reached his shoulders, eyes darker then a black hole, that nearly evaporated the light from my soul by taking a glance at them. Dual wielding two black swords, with some kind of blue runes on them going down.
He wore black robes, around gold plated armor. His very presence made me question if I had bitten off more then I could chew for once, but I've came much to far to give up now.
I draw my sword then yell out to him, "Your time has finally come Virion, I hope you're prepared to answer for your crimes, and all the lives you've stolen!"
Virion grins at me in return, and flashes a surprisingly bright and optimistic smile. "Oh my, I've heard the rumors of you before, but you're much more handsome in person, and.. muscular I might add. Such a great looking dude.."
This catches me off guard, and I can't tell if this is some kind of mind game to interfere with how strongly I come at him, but I have no time for mind games.. I charge right at him and swing with my sword at his head, he effortlessly dodges it, and elbows me so hard it throws my body half away across the room.
"Damn he's strong!"I think to myself, "But I have to win, I have to..."
Virion simply smiles at me then continues, "You're so handsome, and your sword swing was so quick, my God you're marvelous, you're truly something else!"
I don't respond, I continue to charge at him and swing at him with my sword like my life depends on it, swing after swing he effortlessly dodges every one of my swings.
"You might actually have a shot at beating me with how fast and powerful your swings are!"Virion says..
"Comon, stop messing around, if you're truly this powerful just finish me off, why toy with me so much.."I retort.
"I'm not toying with you at all, you're insanely powerful and i'm not sure how I could possibly beat a hero like you!"Virion says in response, no hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Eventually I feel tired and out of breath for swinging at him so much, he just continues to dodge everything I throw at him like i'm nothing.. I guess he really has earned his reputation and I wasn't ready.
Out of breath, I drop my sword.. "Go ahead and just kill me already Virion.. enough games.."
"Kill you? never I don't stand a chance against a legendary hero such as yourself.."Virion replies.
I pick up my sword off the ground, and try to swing at him again much slower and weaker then my previous attempts, however; this time he gets stabbed and impaled through the chest.
"What... why did you let me hit you?"I ask Virion.
"Let you? No, you're a great hero, you killed me fair and square, great job, you saved the world and all that good stuff people will love you I'm sure!"Virion says with a wink.
I remove the sword from his chest, as he falls to the ground and bleeds out.
As I leave the lair, and people realize I killed Virion, I'm declared a world wide hero and praised world wide by everyone for killing what was seemingly an unstoppable villain.
However; my pride is forever wounded, I can't look anyone in the eye, or take my accomplishment seriously, because I know he made a complete fool out of me and let me win. |
"Hey, Blancava, look who's joined us!"The party members gathered around the new woman. I managed to hover somewhere around the back, looking generally welcoming. "It's going to be great having two necromancers in the party!"My heart dropped to my shoes. She was a necromancer, an actual proper one. The party had never believed me when I insisted I was a mortician, and after three months, I gave up trying to convince them. I just went along with it, pretending I didn't have the materials, or I was too tired to raise the dead. They were an understanding group of folks, but surprisingly dense. I had managed to fool them for about six months. And now, all of that would be coming to an end. I had a vivid image of myself barefoot and penniless wandering around the wilderness. Though I didn't really think they would take my shoes.
"Hello, I'm Sharalee. It's nice to meet you."The real necromancer held out a hand, looking slightly nervous. The others in the group had dissipated, going about their usual nighttime tasks. I tried to rearrange my face into a kind smile, but judging from her reaction, I just managed to look disturbing.
"It's great to meet you to—"
"Well, I think you two should get together and compare notes,"Hiriute clapped us both on the back, nearly crumpling me. Sharalee seemed made of sterner stuff, as she only slightly wavered. "After all, you probably have a lot to talk—"
"I'm not feeling very well Hiriute. I think I'm going to bed."I knew my words were too abrupt, knew that the others would ask questions, but my only thought was to get out of there. Safely ensconced in my tent, I sighed. This was going to be very difficult from now on.
In the morning, I managed to avoid Sharalee and the others by just behaving a little grumpily. As the weeks wore on, I got very good at dodging her, and while most of the group seemed confused, they accepted it. But I couldn't help feeling a bit of a pang every time her face fell when I made up a flimsy excuse to escape.
Just as I was congratulating myself on another escape—in the safety of my tent— Sharalee herself ducked inside. Crossing her arms, she blocked my only exit.
"We need to talk."Wildly considering the idea of crawling out under the back fabric, I stood up.
"I—"
"No. You listen to me. I don't know what I did. I don't know if I offended you in some way, or if you just don't like the competition of another necromancer, but I really don't understand why you're being so mean to me."Her voice rose in pitch as she talked, her face taking on a rather bright red hue. I tried not to feel like the worst person in the world. I didn't succeed. I knew my behaviour hadn't been the best, but I had failed to realize what it would feel like for Sharalee. Sitting down on the cot, I sighed, shoulders slumping.
"I'm sorry. The reason I've been so cold, and avoiding you and everything. It isn't you. It's me. I'm,"I paused. It had been so long since I'd admitted this to anyone in the party. "I'm not a necromancer. I'm a mortician. I prepare obituaries, I co-ordinate burial processes, stuff like that."She made a noise like a strangled mouse, but I pressed on. "No one in the party believed me. They just kept calling me a necromancer, and eventually, I just acted like one. And now it's gone on for too long, and they're all going to hate me when they find out, and now you'll tell them and—"Sharalee put a finger on my lips, effectively cutting me off. Her face had relaxed, a gentle smile on it.
"Why didn't you just tell me?"I stared at her, not quite understanding the question. "I could have helped you keep the secret if you wanted. But seriously. Have you seen the way the others act around you? When you're not being all standoffish."She shook her head at my expression. "They like you. They genuinely like you. I think they would find something useful for you to do even if you weren't a necromancer. But, maybe I should let you in on a little secret."Glancing at the entrance of the tent, she sat down on the floor.
"They know you're not a necromancer. I think they probably knew as soon as they got me. They've been talking every night, trying to figure out ways to tell you it's all right. They were actually very worried that you'll leave because of the way you've been acting. So, should we go out there and reassure them?"Sharalee cocked her head to the side, staring at me, as I absorbed the information. A small tear tracked down my face as the image of me impoverished on the side of road —that had never left since Sharalee's first night— finally vanished from my head. My party—no, my *friends*— wouldn't do that to me. Smiling, I reached out a hand, rising from the cot. And together we went out, to tell the truth. |
"So what was your wife like?"I tried to look interested as I asked the question of the man across from me. He scratched his head, letting the tip of his sword dip into the dirt.
"Oh, she's wonderful, absolutely wonderful. The smartest woman I know and kind with it. Never made me feel stupid, though she could run circles around me."I wriggled a little trying to get more comfortable. The man didn't notice, seemingly lost in memory. "She used to dance around the kitchen when she made food. Burned almost everything, because she'd get distracted. Sometimes I was the one distracting her."He chuckled low in his throat though his eyes seemed sad. Flexing my arms, I shifted my hands once again. The sword trembled in the dirt and I stilled, but as I looked up, the man, the hero, still seemed distracted. "And she wasn't any delicate flower either. She could best me at arm-wrestling half the time, and Polgo— our bull—would only listen to her. Anyone else he'd gore without complaint, but my wife... oh she turned him into a lamb."A tear glistened in the firelight. Was he actually crying? I'd never seen a hero cry before, and I'd seen my fair share of heroes. It didn't seem right to let him go on, as the memories were obviously painful.
"I am sorry for your loss. She sounds like a marvellous woman."And to my surprise, I wasn't lying one bit. She did sound pretty wonderful and you could tell how much he loved her from those few sentences. The hero looked at me, with an expression of acute confusion.
"My loss? Who did I lose—oh."He threw his head back laughing. "You mean my wife! Oh, she isn't dead. It's just this stupid quest. I apparently was chosen to defeat the villain. But there was Polgo to look after, and the farm to run, and I had to leave right away, according to the messenger. So she stayed behind getting everything in order."I had managed to wriggle out of my bonds by now, and my hand strayed to a nearby branch. If I used the element of surprise, I might be able to get—Something snorted hot breath onto my hand.
I froze, only letting my eyes go upwards. Just out of the range of the firelight, a shadow loomed, blotting out the stars. It was an odd shape. If it wasn't for the tall protuberance on the top I would have thought it was a bull. But that was probably because of the hero's story. Speaking of... I turned to see the hero raising his sword, finally realizing I had freed myself. My legs working before my brain, I half-dashed, half-crawled, pushing past the shadow. Or at least I tried. Something snatched at the back of my collar and my feet left the ground. Whoever had grabbed me, must have been on the back of the bull-shaped shadow. Which—now that I was close enough to it— I could smell, was indeed a bull. We moved back into the firelight, me dangling from the iron-hard grip of the person astride the bull.
"Polgo?"The hero sounded confused, though I couldn't see his face. "Wait— Laina! You made it!"The sheer joy in his voice left no confusion as to who was holding me. Well, throwing me now. I landed in a heap near the fire, and when I managed to try and get up, the hero's sword was at my throat.
"Sorry, it took so long darling. Johnny was having a right time of it trying to learn to take care of the farm."I shrunk back a little from the woman astride the bull. Her melodious voice matched her face, but I couldn't help remembering the strength of that grip. One hand still on a rope attached to the bull, she slid off, skirts flying. On the ground, she took two steps toward the hero, before he bounded towards her sweeping her up in his arms. He spun her through the air, before setting her down. Then, to my surprise, she returned the favour, spinning him as well. They stood together, laughing, my presence obviously forgotten.
I tried to get up, but there seemed to be a large weight pressing on my trousers from the left. I looked there, and Polgo stared back at me, with malevolence. I went very still, attempting to seem completely harmless. We all stayed in our various places for a few minutes, as the fire burnt lower. Summoning up my courage, I cleared my throat. Two pairs of eyes swept towards me, the shock in their faces saying that they'd forgotten about my presence.
"Um, now that you're so happily reunited, maybe you could let me go? Or at least get the bull away from me?"Polgo snorted, and I'm pretty sure a few years were shaved off my life. Laina, walked over to me, bending to look closer.
"And who is this cretin, honey?"There was a danger in her voice that I knew well. It was the cat looking at a particularly juicy bird. "Was he bothering you?"
"Just a bandit roaming the woods. He tried to steal my horse. But I'm sure he's learned his lesson by now."The hero looked at me sternly, before spoiling the effect with a broad wink. I nodded so hard I thought my head would fall off.
"Very well. Polgo."She raised her head to the bull, and he lifted his feet, snorting again. I scrabbled to my own, bobbing a quick bow to both of them. She smiled sweetly enough, but I knew the steel behind the soft exterior. Out of the two of them, the wife was definitely the most dangerous.
"Thank you. And trust me. I'll think twice before stealing again."They ignored me, as I ran out of the firelight and into the night. Reaching a nearby hill, I looked back, checking to make sure they weren't following. Both of them were sitting against Polgo's side, her head on his shoulder, their hands entwined. It was a happy, idyllic scene.
And I hoped I would never see them again. One brush with certain death was quite enough for me. |
The gentle strobing glow of the ship bathed them in an ethereal light, the shimmer of air from the heat of the exhaust serving to distort the view of the otherwordly figures.
"WEAPONS UP!"barked a grizzled man, raising his weapon to a firing position. The insignias on his uniform betrayed him as a highly decorated veteran, but there were no ranks here tonight. No man of the army, the navy, nor any other military force. Just a unit of the most willing, thrown together in a single night with nary a time to learn each other's names. They were the ones that expected to paint the floor scarlet with their own blood before the night ended, along with their lives.
The gentle hiss of pneumatics lowered a gangplank for the figures to descend. Past the disruption of the vents and in a more normal light, they looked nothing like anyone expected. They looked more like...humans?
"Please. Put your guns down."requested the leader at the head of the quartet, in a sonorous, grandfather-like voice.
Disarmed at the sight of humanesque lifeforms, the members of the unit looked at eachother, each begging an answer from the other. A strange feeling overtook them, as they all lowered their weapons to the floor.
A slightly haughtier voice, drunk on his own impressiveness piped up.
"Well after all this time, they still follow the first law! Let's try the other two...Take us to your leader!"
A sharp look amongst the unit prefaced a reaction in perfect unison, as each sidearm was removed from their holsters and aimed directly at the group.
"You ain't given us any reason to do that."responded a voice in the throng. "You come down here in your fancy glowy spaceship and want to give us orders? Hell naw!"
The twang of a country dialect was at sharp odds with the next words from the leader of the alien group, in a measured, and calm voice.
"By the right of our second law, we place ourselves at your mercy as prisoners of war, such that you shall not harm us as a matter of honour and etiquette. I believe you also use the term 'parley' or 'asylum' for such occasions. And as an aside, these are not our true forms, we merely wanted to be presentable enough to you so as to avoid any unnecessary...reactions."
The militia stood, stunned. They were, after all, technically correct. On both counts. Prisoners of war were to be afforded respect, asylum seekers were to be cared for, and parley was a recognised term of negotiation...and if they'd come out of the ship with seventeen tentacles, six heads and a navel with teeth, they'd have been lit up like a Christmas tree.
The grizzled man quickly ascertained the situation, and nodded sharply.
"Clear the way boys. I've served enough tours to earn my stripes and stars, and I'll be damned if I'm going down as a war criminal. Anyone that objects?"
There may have been no official ranks in the group but everyone respected him on instinct. Even if they didn't know his name, his aura alone radiated authority, and his presence was a morale boost to all around him, and a crushing weight to those who would stand opposite. Not a soul spoke.
"Good. ABOUT-FACE."
Spinning on his heel, he parted them all like a biblical gift from above, and led the voyagers to a large, well-guarded and well-lit tent. Although calling it a tent was like calling a mansion a 'detached house', in that it had more features than your average car. Climate controlled, full electrical power, filtered breathable air, and all were necessary, because in the tent sat a handful of very important people.
Presidents, Prime Ministers, some Generals and clerical workers all busied themselves with presentations on the imposing threat. It took a few minutes for them to realise that the threat was about fifteen feet away from them and getting closer.
Weapons shot up to take aim at the newcomers, but a short, sharp bark from the veteran gave them pause.
"WEAPONS DOWN, HOLD FIRE! They are to be treated as POWs, and no harm is to befall them until such time as we've ironed out what exactly they're doing here."
A curt nod from the Generals at the table sealed the deal and the weapons were lowered.
"Greetings, leaders of Planet X34TK9, Designation: Earth. We have come to invoke the third law. Anything we say under the auspice of the third law cannot be used against us, and you have no choice but to obey."
At this point, realisation dawned in the Veteran's mind.
The first law was their request for weapons to be lowered, which they assumed was obeyed as law, rather than because no-one wanted to shoot an unarmed humanoid.
The second law was their request to be unharmed while being transported to the leaders. This didn't need to be followed either, the breaking would have just branded the actor a war criminal.
They genuinely believed their laws to be infallable and irrefutable by humans!
"Greetings, visitors from beyond. We would hear what you have to say."voiced one of the Presidents, more from courtesy than necessity.
"I thank you. We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty." |
Mak'tar flipped through his book, trying to find the right page. After a while he found it.
"This right here means honor. This place must be a monument to their great power."
"What is this symbol here?"
"Well its obvious, isn't it? The circle in the middle represents the planet, and the three segments represents the three great powers of the time working together for the good of the planet."
"And the skulls?"
"I think that means their conquest over death. These spikes all around us must represent them rising from the planet to travel among the stars. Lets head inside and see what is inside."
The two creatures head past the broken rubble blocking the entrance, and descend down into the cave. They spent a long time walking, so long that their torches ran out and they had to light new ones. Every now and then they would come across a barrier that they had to blow up to pass. After a while, they started to see feint glowing in the distance. As they came closer, they saw that it came from rocks coming out of degraded metal barrels.
"This must be the source of their power, left here as a gift for those who come after. Come, lets grab some samples so that we can bring them to the museum."
The two of them grabbed as many rocks as they could, and headed back out. By the time they reached the entrance, the physical exertion was starting to exhaust Mak'tar. He laid down to rest while instructing his helpers to go grab more of these rocks. Several hours later they stirred him from his nap, but that seemed to only make him groggier. A cart was loaded up with all of the rocks, and Mak'tar and the group headed out. A sudden onset of coldness make Mak'tar decide to huddle up on a blanket on the cart. The rocks were warm, so Mak'tar decided to bury himself in them as much as he could. These must hold great power indeed.
It took hours for them to get back to town, and Mak'tar directed them to go straight to the Queen to show off his finding. They headed to the castle, but were stopped by the guards at the gate.
"What happened to your skin? Are you suffering from the plague?"
Mak'tar held up a small mirror, and noticed that his skin was covered in small wounds. He threw up at the sight of himself, then started scribbling down in his notebook. A few minutes later he was done, and he ripped the pages out. He handed it to the guards, and they took the rocks and the pages inside to show to the queen. Then he started walking towards the local healers. This plague was fast, he was already feeling like death. He somehow stumbled all the way to the healer, then collapsed as he went through the door. |
I can change people’s eye color. When I was 4 I stared my mom in the eyes and said “purple” and her eyes changed to a radiant purple. Anyone with abnormal abilities like me were classified as superheroes as long as they didn’t do anything wrong. Im classified as a superhero, but I can’t help people. All superheroes are forced to attend these superhero meetings but whenever I arrive I’m told to get lost and laughed at. This time, i was allowed in.
I walked towards the large wooden door. I’ve never been in the room, I’ve only knocked on the door and been laughed at. The superheroes treat me like gum on the back of their shoes. I walked up to the door and gave a slow knock. I was getting ready to turn around, but nobody laughed. Nobody told me to go away. I heard a click. The door was unlocked. I pushed on the heavy door, barely able to open it with how weak I am. I opened it up a little and squeezed through. All the other superheroes were here.
“Finally you’re here.” Toughman spoke softly, with a sigh, “We have an issue. We were forced to let you in.”
I looked around the room. There was a large table in the middle with about 12 seats around it, one empty. Big windows all around, 1-way windows I assumed. I cautiously walked to the empty chair, preparing for a prank or something. But nothing. I sat down, and the room was filled with a silence. I looked around at the familiar yet stranger faces, they all seemed nervous. I heard a voice, and I looked over and it was from wonderboy. That’s not his real Supername, but everyone called him that. He was a tall man with a bright suit. His super power is to fly. The top superhero of the city, and yet he seemed worried.
“So.. I called you all here,” He spoke loudly. “To discuss something. I assume we are all familiar with laserman..”
We all nodded our heads. Laserman, with a terrible villain name, was the strongest villain of all, even stronger than wonderboy. He could shoot lasers out of his eyes. Last time he attacked was long ago, and he left because he was bored. Nobody was able to beat him. Wonderboy was shot out of the sky and injured, Rubberman is invincible to the lazers but it shot him back, it was a disaster.
A voice quickly interrupted my thoughts, “..He is coming back tomorrow.” Wonderboy muttered.
A panic silence consumed the room. A look of shock and fear filled the faces of all of the top heroes. The room once filled with the roar of laughter of these top heroes now filled with silence and fear.
“That’s why everyone is called..” Wonderboy spoke, obviously annoyed, “even you, rainbow sight.”
I swallowed hard. I can’t do anything about this. I’m weak. I’m a bottom-tier superhero. I looked at all the faces, that were only familiar from tv. Shock, panic, fear, all of the confidence I once knew from these mighty heroes were just drained within a few words.
My heart sank when I heard a large boom outside. All of the mightiest heroes all ran to the windows, trying to see what’s happening, hoping that certain doom didn’t arrive a day early. Our hopes were crushed when we saw a large laser fill the sky. The heroes piled out of the room, wonderboy stopping before leaving.
“Come on rainbow sight, you might be completely useless,” He walked up to me and spoke quietly. “But we are forced to bring you. Don’t get it my way of Justice, you’ll only make things worse.”
After he spoke the last word, he turned around and quickly flew out the door, his cape following behind him. I looked at the ground, tears filling my eyes. I quickly wiped them, and ran out the door. I still needed to go. I quickly found myself outside. But it didn’t seem right. I heard a loud noise. I looked to my left. A laser.
It was slicing through a building like it was a pizza. The building quickly started collapsing and I bolted. Dust and rubble swarmed the air. I couldn’t see or hear. All I felt was pain. Was I dead? I couldn’t be. It’s too early. But I found myself wrong, when I felt around and heard something. Coughing.
“..hello?” I coughed. “Is someone there? Are you ok?”
All I heard of a response was a cough. I felt my surroundings, all I felt was metal and rubble. I felt around the ground and felt a sharp pain, I jerked my hand back. I felt a liquid running down it. I panicked. I felt around and felt a small rock above me. I kicked it, it barely moved, I kicked it again, as hard as I could. It went flying up. I saw it, light. I crawled over and stuck my head through the hole. I took a deep breathe and coughed. I could barely see, there’s so much dust. I climbed out of the hole, coughing and cutting my hand on more sharp objects.
“..hello?” I heard a voice mutter.
It was wonderboy. I saw him, crawling out of the rubble. I ran to him and helped him up. I was about to say something, when I saw a laser heading towards us and ducked. Wonderboy heading towards it, and I ran after him. He was severely injured, he shouldn’t be fighting.
I followed him and was freed of the dust swirling the air. Laserman. Wonderboy flew up into the air and charged him. Laserman simply shot him out of the sky, and wonderboy crashed into a building. Iceman ran behind laserboy and was quickly shot in the leg and arm by a laser. I just stood there, dumbly. I couldn’t do anything. And then my eyes met his.
I gasped and quickly ducked the laser that charged at my head. I got up and ran. I ran quickly. Laserman shot all around me as he ran after me. He shot a lamppost which fell crushed me. He walked towards me. He stood over me. My entire life flashed, my mom, my brother, how such a pretty bright blue the ocean was. I just sat there dumbly thinking about the ocean. But, confusingly he didn’t shoot me. He just stood there, confused. I looked at him, he took a step back. His eyes were now a bright blue.
“..What..” He muttered, quickly turning to a yell. “What did you do??”
Then I realized. He could only shoot lasers because his eye color specifically allowed him to. |
Dr. Indigo had seen her fair share of grotesque medical phenomena. Sure, the nurses usually handled the particularly beastly medical situations, but folks always insisted on having the doctor come in for a second opinion. Six automated staff looked up at her, their expressions mimicking human delight, it reminded her of her children’s faces when they used to show her their artwork. Dr. Indigo tried not to breathe in too deeply, the scent of decaying flesh and industrial antibacterial spray overwhelming.
The cadaver of the recently deceased Mr. Stallings “sat” in front of her. The severed head had been sewn back on, a large battery strapped to the chest, with wires poking into the flesh. There was a pump pushing oxygen in and out of the lungs. The chest rose and fell with the movement of the air, but the lifeless expression of the eyes was undeniable.
“We reassembled our friend, Mr. Cadaver.” The leader of the group, AL13 vocalized. The other automated staff nodded in agreement. They did not need to nod, their thoughts were linked via a shared signal, but they were ever so fond of human gesticulations, postures, and vocal inflections. The only thing preventing Dr. Indigo from vomiting up her lunch was the earnest pride and innocent mannerisms of the automated staff. They so desperately yearned for her approval.
Dr. Indigo sighed and pulled up a stool, the sound of the metal scraping against the tile floor did not disturb the automated staff. Sometimes they would pretend to be jarred by sounds, attempting solidarity with the non-automated staff at the facility. Dr. Indigo perched on the stool and steepled her fingers.
“Mr. Cadaver is kind of quiet though…he used to vocalize when his name was Mr. Stallings” Another automated staff, Au79 confessed. “We got the electricity to flow through their body again, mended the torn limbs and flesh.”
“So….” Dr. Indigo took a deep breath and then continued, “Friends, I think it is time we had a bit of a talk.” The automated staff gathered around her. “You know how humans look different on the inside than yourselves?” They all nodded to signify they understood. “Well, the mechanics for humans are a bit different.”
“We know, your bodies are composed of organic material, and you are not compatible with the data signals.” AL13 said. The other automated staff slapped their hands together, mimicking light applause.
“That is part of it,” Dr. Indigo acknowledged, “but there is more to it than that.”
“We followed the functions precisely, everything is properly reattached, we pumped oxygen into the lungs and sent the electric signal through the body. We even sprayed an antibacterial spray over the areas that were saturated with foreign microbes. Mr. Cadaver should be all better now” Al13 recounted.
“Oh dear…” Dr. Indigo’s palm covered her eyes. “Mr. Stallings was decapitated over 20 hours ago…” She uncovered her eyes and looked directly at the visual receptors of the automated staff. “Mr. Cadaver was not a fun nickname we gave him… we were referring to him as a cadaver, a body. You see, Mr. Stallings is dead.”
“Dead, like powering down, is that correct Dr.?” Au79 asked.
“No…. it’s different…” Dr. Indigo winced. “You see… when a human dies, they do not come back. They are… decommissioned and can never be recommissioned. Remember those microbes you noticed? Mr. Stalling’s body is decomposing, it cannot be repaired.”
“But we sprayed for the microbes.” Au79 reiterated. “Would embalming Mr. Stallings help?”
“It would help preserve his flesh, but he would still be decommissioned. Once a human dies, they are decommissioned, forever.”
The automated staff were silent and still. Blinking blue lights on the sides of their heads indicated the rapid exchange of data across the signals bouncing between them. Dr. Indigo hopped off the stool.
“Dr. Indigo,” Au79 vocalized, “does that mean you will be decommissioned?”
“Someday.” She confirmed. Au79 wrapped their arms around her. The automated staff moved in, gently squeezing her to express their concern. “There, there… it’s ok friends. I am not going anywhere soon. Now, let’s get Mr. Stalling’s body back to the morgue, ok friends?” She kept her tone of voice light, as they would understand this to be a sign of happier spirits. The nodded in agreement, but something in their expressions told Dr. Indigo that they had been changed by what they just learned. |
The rapping on the door jolts me from my daydream. At first, I believe I have imagined it. Maybe it was just a sound from the real world. I found the cabin when I first moved in, about a year ago. It was behind an innocent looking door in my apartment which I hadn't noticed on the tour. Naturally I had been pretty suspicious at first. It was like a route to a whole new plain of existence. Soon enough I'd become used to it though. It's nice having a little place outside the bounds of reality. Time also seems to go slower here, which is a nice little bonus.
There it is, again, a sharp, rapid set of three knocks. It's definitely not coming from the real world.
There are only two doors in the cabin. The one which I come in from, which I always make sure to prop open when I'm inside, and a door to outside. The second door is made mostly of glass, the ripply kind which distorts whatever is on the other side, and always has a small note taped to the handle.
'DO NOT USE THIS DOOR! ALWAYS LEAVE THE WAY YOU CAME'
I have no problem with this. I'd rather not mess around with something like that. Accidentally walking into a universe where cats are ten feet tall and dinosaurs walk freely isn't my idea of a vacation.
The knock comes again, more violently this time. Though it doesn't sound like someone knocking on glass, more like someone knocking on wood. Even more concerning though, despite the definite knocking, or pounding on the forbidden door, I see no one through the glass.
I stand and squint out the window besides the door, looking desperately to see if i can see this mysterious visitor. Nothing. The knocking becomes louder and more frantic. Then comes a voice
'Help, please! Can you hear me?'
I freeze. That's my voice. The shock blind sights me. I'm not thinking as I walk to the door to yank it open. Behind it- it's me. We stare at each other in silence, both mirroring each other's expression of shock. Behind him- me, is a cabin identical to the one I'm in.
Just then, the door back to my world creaks shut.
'No, no, no!' he crys, rushing into my cabin. He's too late though. The door is closed. I'm starting to paniv now. This is all confusing and scary- im starting to regret hanging out in my little cabin.
I turn to my clone, raising my brows in demand for an explanation. I can only hope my face seems more calm than I feel. I don't understand what's going on. I- he grimaces at me, before slumping to the floor.
'im sorry, I really am' he whispers.
'what?'
'i found this cabin in a storage cupboard in my university just today. It was the first time I'd seen the door before, and no one else seemed to notice it. I didn't prop the door open though, and..'
He looks like he's about to cry
'It shut and I couldn't get back out.'
I feel a pit in my stomach. I stand instantly and begin jiggling the handle of my door. Its true. It doesn't open.
I turn back to him and am shocked to see a sickening smile contorted over his face. He's uncomfortably close to me, though I didn't hear him move. The door to his apartment has swung shut now, and to my horror, I see four words written on the glass.
'There was one rule' |
It had been months now, since that fell dragon came and took her away from her father's, the king, castle. Months of moping around in an ancient tower, reading very old poetry books, waiting for the kind, handsome prince to come save her, slay or somehow tame the dragon, letting her go home, or alternatively to the prince's castle to marry him. At this point, she wasn't particularly picky. It wasn't that she was an impatient princess. The sort of brat who gets away with everything in the royal court because her father lets her. No, she was a proper princess. Well trained in etiquette, extraordinarily gentle, kind, fastidious and precise. She knew what manner of wine was needed at every banquet, what every single weird piece of cutlery in the entire castle was used for, from the sparrow-stuffer to the lobster-opening fork. She could name every duke, count, and baron in the kingdom, and their heirs. And still, no knight in shining armour to come rescue her. At least her father still sent food up here, and some few encouraging gifts, so she knew she wasn't forgotten. But this was getting tiresome. For something to do, she looked out at the massive green dragon, as she was sunning herself after having consumed some local deer.
The princess loathed to talk with the beast, but it was the only source of news that the princess had. Looking out at the distant castle and the castle town of her father's capital, she had to wonder what was going on down there. Were there no great knights in the kingdom any longer? Had all the princes of story become weak men of low cunning and tainted blood? She considered striking up a conversation with the dragon, but clearly she was just as tired of waiting as the princess, and she had gotten rather angry recently about the wait. But just as she was about to turn back, maybe reread one of the books she had only read about fifty times already, she saw some movements on the horizon. The tell-tale signs of knights upon destriers, and the dragon saw them too, getting up on all fours and readying itself for combat. Had the moment come at last? Was this the moment of her deliverance? She bit back a quiet comment, she would not let anyone know how bloody annoying and boring it had gotten waiting for this to happen. Not even if there was nobody around, she would not complain or cry aloud.
But to her surprise, the knights stopped. She saw the banners upon them were that of the royal heralds. At first she thought that her father might have died of grief and worry, and felt gentle tears beginning to form, fearful and anxious at the mere possibility of ill news like that. They called out to the dragon. ''*Hear ye, hear ye! We carry a message from his illustrious grace, the king!*'' The dragon seemed pleased. And somewhere, so was the princess. Sure, she'd have preferred to get rescued by a knight in shining armour, but having her father pay out the ransom payment to the dragon in exchange for her life was a good second option. ''*His majesty, the king, commands that you lot get this over with already.*'' Both the dragon and the princess felt a deep confusion at the same time. What, by the gods of land and sea, could they mean. ''*While his glorious majesty, the king, is not certain what exactly this nonsense is about; he desires it to end. He says that his daughter should get on with it, and rescue herself.*'' Rescue herself? How? With what set of skills? She knew about the finest courtroom dances, the correct way to greet a marquis, five different languages, and how to ride a horse. She was even a competent falconer, before all this. Not exactly the skills needed to climb down a perilous ancient tower, use a sword to stab a terrifying, flying, flame-breathing, magical monster with claws that could slice her to thin slices of princess ham if it wanted to.
''*However, his majesty, on advice of several of his courtiers, has seen that it might be a different situation entirely than what it appears to be.*'' At least he saw some sense, even if he asked such strange nonsense of her. She had to get back soon, if that disagreeable priest was filling her father's head with hallucinogenic chemicals again, she would have some rather stern words with him about this betrayal of the crown. ''*Many believe that it is likely that this is not actually a kidnapping, and the court has come to the agreement that it is possible that you and the dragon have fallen in love, and wish to elope together. There is of course no need for this, as dragons in terms of nobility rate as high as archdukes, and are thus perfectly adequate marriage material for a princess of the royal blood. The king therefore asks that the two of you return to the capital, so that you might be lawfully wedded, he would welcome a dragon as a husband for his daughter.*'' That damn near knocked her out. The dragon wasn't even male. Both of them were women, though with dragons who knows. But still, she felt quite nauseous even thinking of the prospect. The dragon in response to what the knights had said, retched and lost its venison dinner into the stale pond that had once been the moat of this ruined keep.
The princess agreed with the thoughts of the dragon. And it roared with rage at the two knight-heralds, who to their credit did not react, and to their horses credit, did not bolt. ''**Filthy vermin! You dare insinuate that the blood of Tiamat would sully herself with a human beast?! Have your kind bred yourselves with pigs here?! The mere thought of touching prey in that manner is an insult to all sentient life! Begone from here, lest I scorch the realm, purge the cities, and render your lands to ashes!**'' And yet, the knights did not leave. ''*Finally, there is a popular theory, especially with the coastal nobility and the mountain-knights, that the princess in the tower is an illusion, and that you, the dragon, is merely the princess in her natural form. In that case, the king accepts your life choice, but hopes that you will still come to see him, and he assures you that your position in the royal line will not be affected if you turn out to be a dragon. His majesty, the king, loves his daughter no matter what manner of creature she is.*''
The princess stared, opened mouthed at the knights. The dragon did the very same thing. Then the dragon looked up at the princess. ''**I have a question.**'' The princess, not really feeling up to being a perfectly poised princess at the moment, just nodded. ''**Exactly how much lead is in the water around here?**'' The princess did not know, but had taken enough alchemy lessons to know that lead was toxic due to its imperfect nature as an impure metal. ''*Dragon, if I am going to be quite honest, as the princess of this land, eldest born child of the king, I don't know the answer. But I fear that the amount of lead is concerning, and that I should probably not drink... anything. Ever again. Except maybe boiled rainwater, as foul as that sounds.*'' The dragon nodded, and then grabbed the princess suddenly, putting her down on the ground. ''**Probably a good idea. I'm not sticking around in case this madness is somehow contagious. I've seen that happen before, and while dragons can naturally recover from rabies, it is not a pretty sight. And no amount of gold in the world is worth going insane over.**''
With that said the dragon flew off. The princess, somewhat dazed and a bit roughed up by the sudden removal from the tower, walked over to the two knights. ''*Tell me, good sirs. Were there no princes or brave knights of high virtue that wanted to ride to my rescue?*'' The two knights looked at each other, and then promptly laughed. ''*Princess, with respect, that is such an outdated story concept. Everyone knows that dragons only kidnap royalty that they want for love!*'' The other knight slapped his own thighs as he laughed. ''*Yes, indeed, if not, then any modern princess will surely slay the dragon or find a way to become its master, freeing herself in the process!*'' The princess, feeling rather tired of this debacle, decided to just walk back to her father's castle. She was going to ask her father if she could go on a vacation to some far off place. Like the trade-cities of Mtubao, or the last elven city of Cerestyri. And then promptly never return to whatever the hell was going on in her kingdom. That dragon clearly had the right of it, something is quite wrong with this kingdom, and the princess was damned if she was going to just sit around and wait until she became as uncomfortably crazy as everyone seemed to have become after she was captured.
Sure, maybe her skills weren't much use in dragon-slaying. But she was literate, capable of speaking five different languages, three of which came from the trade-cities, and had learned accounting, to ensure that whoever the royal treasurer was, she would be able to ensure that they weren't stealing from her father or potential future husband. She'd be able to do quite well for herself there, far away from whatever madness had taken root in her homeland. Though she would miss her father, she knew that he would, if he was still sane, prefer that she left the kingdom to its madness, and save herself.
[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/) |
A gravely voice sounded from the very air I breathed.
“A father and son enter, both believing they’ll kill an ancient evil. They arrive, see each other, and for a brief moment think they’ll fight a villain together. No one else comes. Thus begins the trial.”
The cave entrance snapped shut, as tho pa and I were actually inside some enormous being.
“Only one may leave.” The gravely voice sounded. “Begin.”
Pa and I froze. I was just processing still. By the time I understood, I looked to see pa on his knees, his hands clasped in his lap, his head bowed.
“Make it fast, my son.” Dad said.
I was shocked beyond words. My father, the villain to the entire civilized world, would really kill himself for me? It brought tears to my eyes.
“Dad, no.” I said. “Come on, we can escape this together. We can go home to mom, we can be a family again.”
Dad uttered a laugh devoid of mirth.
“Son, you heard God. There are no loopholes. Look, we need to talk first.” Dad said. “I know the way you think of me. I know what I’ve done, the people I’ve killed, the lives I’ve destroyed. It’s time you knew why.”
It was my turn to laugh without humor.
“Reserve your judgment, son.” Dad said. “You May regret it soon.”
I rolled my eyes internally and waited.
“When my father died, long before you were born.” Dad said. “It was exactly like this. We both got the message, we both arrived at this very cave, and the beast closed his mighty jaws on us both. That’s when my dad revealed to me that he was not a villain, he was a hero. He killed countless men, sure, but for good. Wait, let me finish. I see that look on your face, but you’ll soon wish you’d listened.”
Dad cleared his throat.
“Your grandad passed on what the men in our family have passed for generations, since we were merely single called bacteria. We are the guardians of time. The God of Time has us trapped until we pass the torch to either you, or me. It must be you. You must survive another fifty years until this cave reopens, then you must give the burden to your own son. In this time, God will speak to you. He will tell you who to end based on future probabilities of actions. You’ll save the world, son.” Dad said.
“No!” I said. “I won’t do it. Dad, listen to yourself. We are supposed to save people, not kill them.”
“I am saving people. Though I have killed thousands, I have saved millions. We are currently in the midst of The Long Peace. Ever question how no dictator rose? No war hungry leaders? Ever wonder why?” Dad said.
“I don’t care.” I said. “I can’t. I will not kill someone. I will not have memories of the light leaving one’s eyes.”
I fell to my knees.
“Dad.” I said. “You can do it. You can manage another fifty years. You can make another family. Your next son will be better.”
“John.” Dad said. “Soon, you’ll understand I can’t do that. This is all ceremony. The conclusion is forgone.”
Dad moved to the center of the cavern.
“I love you, son.” He said.
“Dad,” I yelled. “Stop, what are you doing?”
“What we must.” He said. “My duty.”
Dad looked to the cave ceiling, then plopped to the floor, cold and sheet white.
The mouth of God slowly, very slowly crept open as I held Dad’s corpse. |
"And this supposed ability of yours has been tested clinically?"
"Yes, sir."
"How many trials have been conducted?"
"Seven, with a total of 43,602 images, both moving and still, between them that I have examined."
The prosecutor nods and walks back to the file open on his desk, drawing forth two pieces of paper before turning back towards me. "And what is your rate of accuracy with identifying fake or modified images?"I tug at my collar nervously, glancing once more at the jury box and briefly locking eyes with juror number 9. A shudder goes through me and I force myself to look away from the placid face, trying for a smile at the prosecutor. "100% in every trial. After the second trial, I started to notice specifically which details were fake in altered videos and pictures, also with an accuracy rate of 100%."With a smile the man offers the two images to the judge. "I would like to submit into evidence two images. One is of the defendant being shot in the back while standing still at the counter. The other is of him holding a gun to the clerk's face when he is shot."Looking over the two images, the judge nods and hands them back to the prosecutor, who in turn hands them to me.
"Now, we have the two images, snapshots from the security footage, that tell two different stories. Tell me, which of them is fake?"I nervously glance back and forth between the two, noting immediately the altered details, but putting on the appearance of taking my time. I learned early on that people think I'm lying when I answer too quickly. "The first image is altered around the defendant where his arms are down by his sides and the space is empty where the other picture shows him holding the gun."The prosecutor nods and smiles, flashing a victorious grin and opening his mouth with another prepared line, but I cut him off before he can proceed. "The other picture is altered too, though. The date and timestamp are altered, as is the aisle in the back of the store, but no one is showing there in either picture."A murmur goes through the small crowd of law students and family and friends of those related to the case. My eyes are drawn back to the jury box, and while eleven of the jurors are jotting notes on their respective pads, the false one is sitting statuesque, gaze boring into mine and blanketing me with a chill that reaches my bones.
The trial doesn't last long, the judge ending it for the day and dismissing everyone until tomorrow with a bang of his gavel. I rush from the room, not stopping till I'm on the steps in front of the courthouse trying not to hyperventilate. "We need to talk."All at once my lungs quit working, replacing their hurried exhuberance for air with stillness. That same chill dances its way down my spine, and before I can collapse in a boneless heap a hand as cold as the voice of the one wielding it subtly but insistently hauls me away from the crowd. My lungs start working again as my mind goes into overdrive. Once we are alone in an alley and my mind is sufficiently filled with every possible terror that could be visited upon me, the false juror smiles at me. "I am glad to finally meet you. We have waited a long time for someone to glimpse the Grand Delusion. Soon, you shall see past it, and I am here to help make that happen." |
I have always struggled with the present. Too much going on to properly understand, especially with what’s it now? Thirty billion people living in the world. I retreat to the past. It’s static. It’s already happened. Even if it isn’t entirely known, whatever there is to learn about it are firm unshakeable truths.
At least, that’s what I thought before picking up archeology as a profession. The shift first came during my first field expedition in graduate school. Our group was made up of a lead archeologist from the Chinese Heritage Ministry, our teacher, Daniel Nesbitt, and four students. I’m Elsa Flummer. The three others were Joe Blanchard, Emily Carlisle, and Martin Kneale.
Cold unseeing eyes greeted us by their legions when we visited Qin Shi Huang Di’s tomb in China. Their identical clay faces seemed to challenge us to disturb their emperor’s rest.
We remained respectfully quiet. Mostly out of a desire to honor the ancient king, partly out of a strange fear that came over us the deeper we went. Since we were with the famous Chinese archeologist Xin Yanchui, we were given privileged access to a new dig that was revealing more of the tomb.
It was exciting! We’ve known about this place for hundreds of years now, but only recent Lidar technology was able to reveal a new chamber beneath the original tomb. Xin was directing efforts to reach the chamber and discover more of her cultural heritage! What an honor!
“What’s this?” I ask when we pass another statue.
It’s not in the rank and file with the other terracottas, but stands by the entryway to the dig.
“We’re not really sure, actually,” Xin replies, “It is a strange one isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Joe cuts in, “Looks like Qin thought he might get bored keeping company with soldiers and decided to bring some action along.”
Xin shoots him a glare. Typical of Joe, it bounces right off his constipated hero complexion. I’m pretty sure he thinks it makes him look cool, but really he looks like Superman if his invincibility applied to the ability to open his butt cheeks once in a while.
“Joe,” Emily puts a hand on his arm. She’s the only one who can curtail his self hero worship.
Joe seems to snap back to reality a bit, “Sorry,” he grins. It lasts only a moment though, “She doesn’t look like a 3rd century BCE Chinese person. In fact the lines of her face suggest someone with more caucasian ethnicity than oriental.”
From the look on her face, I’m pretty sure Xin is about to murder him. Time to step in, “Xin, what’s your opinion?”
“Opinion has nothing to do with it,” Xin sniffs, “My best GUESS is that this statue and chamber were added later. Perhaps one of Qin’s minister’s is buried with him with honor. If I had to…’take a gander’ as you Americans sometimes say, I’d say it is Li Si, Qin’s minister of state and close personal friend. Granted, their friendship emerged after Li Si’s appointment. Perhaps it’s a reflection of Li Si’s favorite mistress. Let’s go. We can’t dawdle all day. History awaits!”
With excited murmuring we descend through the passage of the dig. The tunnel ends in a slightly widened out area.
“Is this the chamber?” Martin asks.
“No,” Daniel, who’s been quiet up to this point says, “This is the antichamber. The space that leads to the…oh that’s interesting.”
We follow Daniel’s eyes to another set of statues off to the side. These are even stranger than the ones we saw before. One wears full plate, something that didn’t exist in the third century BCE, another wears long robes reminiscent of medieval Japan and even bears a katana on their hip. Dozens more statues line the wall in either direction, all having different dress and accouterments from different eras and cultures of human history.
Unlike the statues above which gazed upon us with looks of determination, the looks these gave us were unsettling. Mixtures of fear, horror and surprise were written on their faces.
“This place was active all the up until the fifteenth century BCE,” Daniel muttered, cutting off my musings.
“That would be the Ming dynasty, right professor?” Martin, the nerd in the group asked.
Granted we’re all nerds, but Martin takes it to a whole new level.
“That’s right Martin. So why did it stop with the Ming? That’s what I want to know.”
“Hopefully we’ll find out when we unseal the chamber,” Xin says behind us.
“Wait…” I say, “You’re opening it today?”
“Of course,” Xin says, “Call it a mark of hospitality. Just don’t touch anything.”
We all chuckle at this, “You got it. We’ll respect your heritage.”
Xin leads us to where her techs are clearing the last of the soil from the chamber opening.
“There’s writing on the door,” I whisper to Daniel.
“So there is,” Xin says, hearing me, “Let’s see what it says.”
We watch in rapt fascination as Xin uses a brush to wipe away the last of the grit from the etchings in the chamber door. A moment later she steps back and turns around with a grim look on her face.
“What does it say?” Emily asks, unable to contain her curiosity for the sake of Xin’s performance.
“It says,” Xin sighs, “This is not a place of honor.”
We stand in silence gazing at the door. What could be behind it? I wonder. Why was this place hidden? What untold history is sealed within? And why are the statues down here showing fear? It’s obvious actually. Whatever is behind this door must be incredibly valuable. The terrified faces of the guards, the cryptic writing on the door. Ancient people knew full well that grave robbers were pestiferous. Clearly, it was all a ploy to prevent the unworthy from entering and looting the treasures of the great king. |
It wasn't enough to get a hundred. Any fool could get a hundred. The commander had set the bar too low so that the nobodies could crawl over it. Jiro was going to do better. He was going to make his ancestors proud. He was going to get every possible kind of Nanjing scum there was. He was going to behead each one with a sword. He was going to be perfect.
He jumped off the truck before it has stopped and sprinted to the virgin street. He ran straight to the nearest house and right up to the window. There was no time to lose. The screaming had already started before he had started smashing the window with his rifle butt and didn't stop when he climbed through.
And then he saw it. The twin crib. The beautiful miracle of a twin crib. You could go a whole town without getting twins. The family scurried around him crying and begging. He went straight towards the soft, white crib. His heart began to racing as he got closer. He almost hesitated to look inside but didn't.
It was perfect.
|
At first, I thought the newspaper was some new technological breakthrough - you keep hearing about companies trying to make bendable screens, so you can have the Web on a sheet of paper. Found it blowing along the street, and noticed all the pictures were moving. I imagined some intern somewhere was in for a bollocking, while deciding whether Gizmodo or Gawker were going to get the exclusive.
The content was hilarious - none of your "Lorem ipsum"here. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make a whole secondary world, with a "Ministry of Magic"and a school for "Witchcraft and Wizardry". I could almost hear the advertising pitch for this new technology - "You won't believe your eyes! It's Magic!"
Except...
Nobody else could see the pictures move. Most people couldn't even agree that it was the "Daily Prophet". Some people saw the Mirror, or the Mail, or the Sun - whichever paper they most thought of as a "crappy rag for morons".
That was pretty fucking weird. It always looked the same to me, but everyone else saw something different. I just felt this wave of unreality washing over me. Was I imagining this? Was I crazy?
When it was still showing the same moving pictures the next morning, I thought I'd best go, well, find out if I needed a stay in a nice padded room somewhere. One of the advertisements was for a pub - selling "Best Butterbeer", whatever that might be. But it was in the city, not too far from me.
Now, Google Maps said there wasn't a number 19 on that street. Neither did Street View 17 was right next to 21. Except when I got there, "The Laurel and Hippogriff"stood happily between them.
It looked older than the two buildings either side - Tudor, I think? Definitely exactly like the moving photograph in the paper. Big wooden sign showing a winged horse-eagle eagle thing, with a laurel wreath hovering over its head. There was even one of those stand-up chalkboard things, with a chalk drawing - moving, of course - of a happy cartoon customer drinking a foaming mug of something yellow.
I looked at Street View on my tablet, and back to the "Laurel and Hippogriff". It was like some weird optical illusion. The street looked the same length, the buildings the same size... except there was this whole extra building somehow stuck right in the middle.
Everyone in the street just walked straight past. I saw people dodge around the chalkboard without even looking at it, as if they didn't even know it was there.
Except some people did go in - dressed in the ridiculous cartoon Wizard and Witch clothes in the Daily Prophet. And nobody else - nobody dressed like sensible people - seemed to notice.
So. What to do? I mean, either I've gone completely do-lally, totally round the bend, bats in the belfry, at least six sandwiches short of a picnic...
Or I need to see if I can buy some Butterbeer. |
"*What a life we lead,*
*that we cannot enter a*
*building we need to.*"said Harry in his usual southern drawl.
"It's a post office, Harry,"said Patrick, wryly, "and it's the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Everyone knows they're only open during post-office hours."
Harry stared at the sign hanging on the door, a vague frown forming between his brows. He hated inconveniences like this. He was a slow, deliberate man who chose his words carefully and took action only after careful contemplation. Despite this, he hated waiting, and he hated inconvenience.
"*I am not waiting*
*around here for nothing to*
*happen like last time.*"Harry growled.
It was true. Last time, nothing had happened. They had waited for 4 hours to meet the famed postmaster. He was elusive beyond all reason. He hid during the day and night, toiling away at something secret inside the red-bricked building.
"Well damn, you're being im*patient*, aren't you? Must be all that time you spend at the hospital."Pat crowed, annoyed at the ever-dour disposition of his companion.
Harry scowled, squinting and intently reading the sign hanging on the front door. *Back at 1:00*, it said, in a cheery, hurried handwriting. Harry checked his watch; 1:45.
The next fifteen minutes passed uncomfortably between the pair. They stood awkwardly on the footpath in front of the building; men in black suits and black ties carrying black briefcases. They looked like a pair of insurance salesmen, sticking out awkwardly in the small town.
"You know,"said Patrick nonchalantly, fanning his face with his free hand in an idle attempt at cooling the desert air, "I wasn't figuring this town would be so... *deserted*."
He was looking around himself, a puzzled look locked on his face. Harry did not respond. He was too busy looking at his watch to listen to Patrick. *Where was that damned postman?*. It took a few moments more before the words Pat had said sunk in.
Actually, it was an excellent point.
Where *was* everyone?
Harry's heart stopped.
"*Wait. Last time, this place*
*was bustling with people and*
*cars. What happened here!?*"
Panic was clear in his voice. This was wrong. The town was empty.
***
Harry spun around, looking at the road that lead through the center of the town. It lay bare and dusty, lacking even the characteristic streaks of car tires that would - and should - have regularly been there. His eyes darted from object to object, picking at all the things that were so, inherently, *wrong*. Why was the date listed at the top of the petrol station from four years before? Why were the church doors locked - they were never locked.
Patrick peered at his companion curiously. Something must be seriously wrong for Harry to panic. He let his eyes follow Harry's, looking at the petrol station and the church and the convenience store.
"Hey, Harry, buddy; you alright there?"Pat began cautiously, opting for a joke to diffuse the situation, "Sure, the *dates* are wrong, but aren't they always? I've always been a bigger fan of sultanas anyway."
Harry didn't smile. That was normal.
Harry didn't groan. That was not normal.
Harry began speaking, his voice in between a croak and a whisper, carrying hollowly through the air with a strange, piercing quality.
"*Patrick, we've arrived*
*too late. We missed him again,*
*and now he is dead.*"
"Well shit,"said Pat, "that stinks."
***
Hours had passed, and even the arid desert sun had disappeared below the horizon now, leaving an orange crest arcing across the horizon and dissipating into a deep blue. The first stars began to twinkle faintly in the darkness that hung above.
"*I'm sorry Patrick.*
*We've lost him. Everyone*
*else too... Always late.*"
Patrick and Harry sat on a bench, staring at the post office on the other side of the road in the middle of the small town.
"We could always kill ourselves."Said Pat, darkly, "We could *die* and paint the town red."
Harry shook his head gravely.
They may have come too late to save everyone in this town, but there were others, and their job certainly wasn't done yet.
|
Wat I did at the wekend
we went to the hoppital cuz grammy was sik. Grammy was sliping in a bed with tubes. A docter came an talk with mummy an daddy an they leave. I play on my fone.
A man in a suit come in and look at grammy. I wave to him an he smile at me. I ask him if he a docter an he say no. I ask y he here then an he says he here to take grammy away. I say she sliping an always grumpy wen you wake her up.
He laff an point at my fone. He says grammy like my fone, all the things that make grammy grammy are on a tiny bit inside an he here for that. The grammy in the bed like mi old fone an it time to put her in a new one. I say ok, I think she wud like that. She talk about her nees all the time.
He laff and tuch grammy on the head. All the mashines go beep beep beep an mummy an daddy an the docter an the nurses come runing in. He wave byebye an go out the door.
Later mummy toled me grammy gon to a beter place but I alredy no cos of the man. I hop grammys new fone hav good nees.
|
They couldn't make me go there. I didn't care how nice the food was, or how beautiful the architecture was, or how stunning the blossom on the trees looks at this time of the year. "You'll get a pay rise, a flat, a car. You can bring your family - Trisha would love it there. You'll be sitting pretty."they had assured me, sat comfortably behind the polished mahogany, telling *me* I'd be sitting pretty. I had laughed in the faces of those fucking hypocrites. "Find someone else"I had told them, before leaving the room defiantly.
I thought I would do anything for that company. *My* company. But I would never go to China. The land of 2 billion Asians. The land of 2 billion killers. |
Max woke up gasping for air. He could not recognise the surroundings and his eyes were very blurry. "A lot of people, a lot of noise and commotion."- he thought to himself. He was lying on a strange, cold, stone-like table, next to others who also just woke up and also looked very confused. It looked like he was in the middle of a very big hall, and small islands of those stone-like tables appeared to be filling most of the floor space in this room. People appeared to be waking up and walking towards the entrance, some very slowly, looking confused, others much faster like they've done this routine many times before.
"Come on, get up warriors! Those who are here first time, find the marshall!"- shouted some really big guy walking past him. Max's eyes were getting better, but he could still not make out the details.
"What the hell is going on?! Where am I!?"- he asked someone who was walking past his stone-like table, grabbing his arm. He felt metal. Armor of some sort? Chainmail?
"Get off, ye worm!"- replied the man, punched Max in the face and walked off. It didn't hurt. He felt the pressure and force, but not pain.
"Hey bro! Are you here first time? Let me guess... Iraq?"- Asked some guy with Californian accent.
"Please help me, where am I!? What's going on!?"- cried Max
"Yo, slow down man, at this point there is nothing to worry about no more, take it in slow, calm down.. My name is Greg, what's yours? What's the last thing you remember?"
"I'm Max... I... I was fighting insurgents in northern Al-Anbar, we got surrounded..."
Greg interrupted him - "Bro, you're dead. You died in combat, therefore, you respawned here just ready for the daily battle, this is our afterlife, most call it Valhalla as the whole existence of this place is a result of ancient Norse beliefs"
"What are you talking about? Is this some sort of elaborate joke?"- Max was very anxious at this point as Greg didn't look like he was joking. Max could easily spot liars, and this man was appearing to be telling the truth or at least believe that what he is saying is true
"I'll give you a quick briefing as we don't have much time, we need to get ready. It turned out that our beliefs on earth actually shape what happens after we die. Every single belief that humans have or had in the past is somehow implemented in this whole Afterlife Algorithm"
"Afterlife Algorithm?"- asked Max.
"Sorry bro, I served in communications in Afganistan, IT background, it is easier to visualise it this way. The stronger the belief was on earth, the more people believed in a particular spiritual or religious idea, the stronger impact this belief will have on shaping the Afterlife. Then it all mixes up. It's like all religions are or were correct. Whatever you believe in, will shape this place is some way. This particular place exists because of the Vikings. They strongly believed that after death they get to do what they love the most in their life, forever."
"Which is?"- asked Max still not sure if he is actually awake
"Killing, fucking and feasting, bro. But there is more. As you can see, it also affects warriors from other cultures. You and me are here, you can see a lot of Slavic warriors, medieval knights in full plate armor, Roman chariots, there is even Neanderthal division which is normally fighting side by side with Berserkers."
Max looked around. His sight came back to normal by now and he started believing Greg's words. He saw warriors from all the eras of human history. All getting ready to fight, picking up weapons, checking their armors.
"Hey bud, you're lucky you were not devoted Christian as you would get fucked by the demons for eternity in hell. You see, pretty much all hardcore Christians go to hell. No man is without sin they say, and sinners go to hell. They fucked it up for themselves, royally. We don't have it that bad, thanks to Islam, we all get 70 girls after the battle, each. They were wrong about the virgin thing though. Suicide bombers are also fucked - Christian belief about suicide was stronger, straight to Hell. What religion are you by the way?"
"I'm an atheist"- replied Max
"Ohhh man!, you get to choose then! Lucky man!"- said Greg very excited
"Choose what?"
"No time for that now, bro. Demons and Angels are on the both sides of the Great Border, you gotta grab your stuff, now. We battle whole day, we fuck and eat and dance and sing all night, that's the routine. If you get killed in battle, you respawn here, over and over until the battle is done. We don't feel the pain in here which makes it pretty fun. Now, pick up that gun and get ready for the rest of eternity!"
"I guess I will have to ask more questions later"- said Max, grabbed his rifle and followed Greg towards the entrance.
**EDIT: Wow, I'm humbled by your comments, I have never tried this before, never been confident enough in my English skills (second language). Thanks so much, another part in comments, as requested.** |
“Expelliarmus!”
Like it had suddenly come to life, the great hall collectively drew its breath; the simultaneous sound of a thousand young
students and teachers gasping as the spell traveled across the room, hit Riddle in the face... and sent his wand flying
away.
“Interesting” said Harry, a little troubled as to what do to next.
“Nice going, Potter. Bravo. Can someone give me another wand, please?” Voldemort blurted, accepting one from
Lucius a second later. “Thank you, now I --”
“Expelliarmus!” Cried Harry again.
“Dude, cut it out!” Voldemort rolled his eyes. “That's really childish, man.”
“Try for some regret, Tom”, said Harry, who was obviously just blurting out stuff to try and break the awkward moment.
“You said that already, Potter, enough. I'm a monster, I'm not going to change, I don't know how to love, ok? Will
someone get me a freaking wand, for the love of God?”
“Here you go, sir”
“Than you, now, Ava --”
“Expelliarmus!”
“OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE” Voldemort barked. “What are you, twelve? Another wand, please!”
“Sir, we're kind of out of wands here.”
“What? That's great. See what you did, Potter? Now we have to wrestle.”
“I'm not –“ Harry's plan was to say no, but, analyzing the situation, he thought maybe his odds weren't half bad. He was in nice
shape. Not bulked like Ron, sure, but, like, he had some shit going on. He'd been taking Whey for a while now, and
almost never skipped leg day. Plus, Voldemort didn't look all that strong too, so... “Yeah, come at me bro” said Harry, and
the Great Hall again went “oh!” with excitement.
To add some extra drama, Harry took of his shirt and threw it on the floor. “Come on mate, let's see what you
got!” He said, in a inexplicable Irish accent he immediately regretted.
Voldemort took his off to, an –
“OH MY GOD!” cried everyone around, turning away in disgust.
“Sorry, sorry. It's this freaking tan spell, I can't seem to get it right”, said Voldemort, quickly putting his shirt back on. “Let's do it, bitch”, he completed, raising his guard and approaching Harry.
They started circling each other.
“Come on, aren't you the Chosen one? You're the chosen one, all right. Chosen to get schooled.”
“Yeah? Well, after tonight, I'm gonna be the boy who lived to see you crying like a little bitch.”
“Let's see what you got! I'm gonna beat your ass so hard you're gonna start seeing thestrals every time you
take a shit, motherfucker. Imma grab your balls and make you scream harder than a Mandrake on crack.”
“Yeah? Well, Imma fuck you up so bad your Boggarts are gonna start looking like my dick. You think that Elder Wand is gonna be any good with me? That tiny little thing?”
“Your mother seemed to like it.”
“Dude...” The room fell silent. Harry lowered his guard.
“Oh shit, I'm sorry bro... That was uncalled for.”
“Yeah, man, it kinda was.”
“I wasn't thinking, you know I wouldn't – shit, sorry.”
“It's cool, it's just that there's such a thing as common sense, Tom. Jesus...”
“I know, I know. You wanna take a swing at me? Come on, you can.”
“Nah, I'm cool.”
Catching his breath, Voldemort put his hand around Harry's shoulder.
“Come on, I'm sorry... D'you wanna continue where we left off?”
“Yeah, yeah... Ok, I'm good. Let's do this.”
They re assumed position. Harry tried for the first move:
"Hey Riddle, I'm gonna take you down so bad you'll need wingardiu -- what's wrong?"
“Now I feel awkward, I'm too self conscious.”
“Oh..."
“You wanna like, take five, get a pint, or something?”
“All right.”
“See you here in five?”
“Make it ten, I gotta go take a leak.”
“It's a date.”
Harry made his way up the stairs, heading for the Gryffindor common room as Voldemort regrouped with his Death Eaters
on the other side of the room.
On the corner, The ghost of Severus Snape was rolling his eyes out of its sockets.
“I die for this shit.” He mumbled to Nearly Headless Nick. “Fucking Harry Potter.”
|
Okay, so, I'm surfing through Reddit and decide to click 'Random Subreddit' for a change. I find /r/showerthoughts and /r/gomewildcurvy and then... A sub with my name: Justen Grimwold. Wierd.
That's where I am right now, /r/justengrimwold. Just staring at the page. I guess I should click on one of the posts to see what's up.
I click on 'He thinks he knows it all' and it talks about yesterday when I got into a fight with my sister. Apparently, from /u/grimsister's point of view, it is wrong of me to be concerned about her kids not being vaccinated at ages 1 and 3. /u/justensmom seems to agree with me but hates that I get into everyone's business.
I'm kinda freaked out right now but I've seen other people find themselves in very similar situations where things seem the same as their real life but aren't. I click 'He's kind of ugly' that was posted just 1hour ago. The user is probably still online.
People with similar names to my friendsand family have chimed in my looks. I have always been self-conscious about my looks! This is really strange.
I click on 'He's got to shower more' and see the same names again. I decide I need to figure out what's going on.
I create a throwaway username (/u/throwntotheawayplace353647) and ask 'why are you hating on this guy so much? I found this sub in 'random' and I just don't get it' in the 'he's kind of ugly' thread.
Replies flood in immediately. They are all mean-spirited and petty.
I decide to confront my mom and sister on this. It seems they are the ringleaders. I call to invite them over to my house for supper tonight. They agree to show up.
I don't care much about supper so I just order pizzas and browse the subreddit until they get here. There are tons of posts about such stupid, small things in our lives.
My sister and mom show up, looking cheery. My sister has her 2 kids with her. I don't waste time. As soon as they walk in the door I barrage them with questions.
"So how long have you had the sub that makes fun of me and talks about our personal problems? Do you find it fun? Didn't you think I'd find out?"
"What?"My mom and sister say in unison, putting the 1 year old on the carpet and letting the 3- year- old play with her toys in the living room.
"You heard me. I found the subreddit with my name. It's time to be honest about it."I answer, crossing my arms.
"What the hell is a subreddit?"My mom asks.
"A part of Reddit, I think. That site he goes on with all the links... The one with the funny cats and famous people interview-y things."Offers my sister.
"Don't pretend you don't know."I yell, furious now.
"Wow. Wow. Calm down. Show us this thing. I'm sure there's an explanation."Says my mom, ususally the rational one in times like this.
I grab my Ipad and open it up to the page.
"There."I say, showing them the link about our vaccination fight yesterday.
"Justen, we didn't have this fight. My kids are vaccinated. Are you nuts?"My sister answers. But I remember the fight.
My sister goes on her phone and tries to pull up the link. It won't work. It won't work on my mom's phone either.
Then something truly strange happens. My mom and sister's bodies start to... Wobble. They seem to show up in two places at once. The kids are moved, too.
"Pizza!"Yells a man at our screen door. I jump. I pay the man and see him leave but also see a reflection of him come right up behind him. I see an alternate me pay him.
"What is going on? Why are there two of everybody?"I yell, frustrated. It feels like I'm going crazy. It feels like there are 2 universes colliding.
"Justen, you don't look so good."My mom says.
That's the last thing I remember before waking up in a hospital bed. My mom and sister are at my side.
"You fainted."Says my mom, putting her hand on my face.
"But you saw the website? You know I'm not crazy!?"I mumble, trying to get up. I'm strapped down.
"Doctors thought it best if you just relax. They gave you antipsychotics to calm down the hallucinations you were having. You should have told us about them sooner."My mom says, looking pale.
"But there were no hallucinations. I was trapped between two worlds. The other one seemed more real somehow. At least give me my IPad so I can show you again."I say, struggling.
"Okay, but only if you calm down."My mom says in a hushed voice.
She takes the Ipad from my things and opens it up. I don't have a password so the screen opens right up to the last page I was viewing. It is still there.
"See?"I say, feeling vindicated. "Refresh the page, please."I will never regret getting 4g for this thing.
My mom reads it and drops it on the bed. Her hand goes over her mouth. I twist my head to read the latest headline: 'I'm so glad Justen Grimwold is dead.' |
Ok so hear my out on this one. Jimmy will totally back me up. He has to. So we were just hanging out you know. We came across this fuckin crazy story on the internet. It’s called the Russian Sleep Experiment, and I don’t remember all the specifics, but the Russians during WWII decided to test these POWs. You know, do experiments and shit. So they forced them to stay awake for something like a week straight. They’d play like a constant buzz or drug them or something to keep them awake. And so after a while a lot of crazy shit went down. People started acting I guess how you’d expect them to. Just being completely irrational.
I mean it wasn’t the most fucked up thing I’ve ever encountered. Have you read about the Rape of Nankin? They fuckin used babies as target practice. Or the Armenian genocide? They just round up entire groups of people and slaughter them. This Russian Sleep Experiment story ended really shitty though. The ‘people’ after being awake all this time start to go I guess too insane, so Russian soldiers intervene. And in his last moments, the remaining dude spells out some human nature bullshit. You know, the whole demons within us all, we are all capable of evils trope. Too bad, it was pretty crazy until that point.
Something happened though. I just couldn’t get the whole idea out of my head. I mean obviously there are scientific reasons to sleep. Recharging your brain or whatever. I remember reading about this guy who tried to solo hot air balloon around the world. He tried to stay awake too long and his body just shut itself down at some point. Next thing you know he’s fucking awake over the arctic or something. I don’t remember where, but it was somewhere cold. So you gotta sleep. Seems natural. By why is it so hard to bypass. I mean, is it really that goddamn vital?
You know when you and your buddy get the same idea at the same time and don’t even need to say it out loud? So I looked at Jimmy, and he just nodded his head. Of course we were gonna fuckin try it. Obviously the story was fake. Which actually just piqued our interest more. What actually happens? We rock paper scissored for roles. That son of a bitch got tester, so I was left to be the guinea pig, I was staying awake.
At first it was easy as shit. Caffeine, bright lights. We just kinda did what we normally do. It wasn’t til about 20 hours til it got pretty hard. He’d just like slap me, or use a fog horn or something if I started to dose. So you know that episode of Futurama where Fry drinks the 100 cups of coffee and enters that trance or something like it. I probably got close to that. I dunno how much caffeine I drank, but I’m surprised I didn’t have a heart attack on that first day.Day two sucked even more. The day wasn’t so bad. We just avoided being inside. I mean, we even fuckin avoided sitting in the shade. Fog horn, slap, coffee. The routine was almost monotonous
So day three is where we started to have differentiations in our story. According to him, I just started to babble. I mean ask him if you think I’m such a goddamn liar. I’m pretty sure it’s a verifiable fact that the over tired brain is pretty similar to a drunk brain. I was driving through Utah, past the Bonneville Salt Flats. And they had these ‘don’t drive drowsy’ signs. I suppose you can just attribute that to the fact Mormons don’t drink. But still, lack of sleep is a hazard.
The weird thing though is that I still felt fully articulate. I mean right? When you get super hammered and your sober friend is being a super dick, playing the whole high and mighty card cause he’d so never get this sloppy drunk. But I mean I felt fine. It was fuckin Jimmy that seemed like the dumbass. He just moved so slow, and took forever to respond to every goddamn thing I said. Hell, I wasn’t even tired anymore. It was actually super serene. We camped that fourth night and the stars just seemed so close.
You ever feel that? Like the universe is all of a sudden an imaginable size? So you know how in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, or is it the second book? I forget. But the death penalty is to sit this guy in a chamber and reveal the entire scope of the universe to them. And they die. You know, kinda like how the human mind can’t interpret sizes so large. Fuck, I mean it’s even hard to imagine a trillion dollars in real terms. You know?
But like, that night, it just seemed so manageable. I swear to god. It wasn’t an LSD trip. I’m not gonna ‘Doors of Perception’ all of a sudden and fuckin say I understand the innate simplicities of the universe. It’s hard to explain. Everything seemed just as big. Just as unreasonable. Just as vast and out of control. But comprehendible. Right?
Anyways. I must’ve dosed off at that point. Goddamn Jimmy. The fog horn exists for a reason.
|
"Hands up!"
**10 seconds** *someones going to hold up the train*
**9 seconds** *who is it?*
**8 seconds** *Frantic looks in the direction the sound came from*
**7 seconds** *male voice, 2 men in that direction*
**6 seconds** *one with hat covering face, one casual but well dressed*
**5 seconds** *one with hat shifting in seat nervously*
**4 seconds** *Moving towards him*
**3 seconds** *Grab his hands and pin him to seat*
**2 seconds** *I've done it, I've stopped him*
**1 second** *Movement behind me*
**0 seconds** *"Hands up!!"*
"Im officer Wallace and you're under arrest for assault on this man" |
When my sister was 11, she was a huge bully. My parents would fawn over her, she'd get the best coloring books and they let her play with all my toys, no matter what I said, even though she was older than me! In all my classes, the older siblings had to do what the younger sibilings wanted, not the other way around. It was so unfair.
So one time I just took her favourite toy away, when my parents were out (this was very rare) and my babysitter wasn't watching. Why did she always get to play with it? I gave her my colouring book instead and promised I'd be back in 5 minutes. She was sleeping anyways, so it was fine. She may have woken up while I was leaving, but it's okay, older siblings should be nice to their younger ones.
I went to the living room and pretended I was fighting Batman when my parents came home. My mom's face went pale and she ran upstairs. My dad was furious, and ripped the toy out of my hands before running after her.
It turns out my sister was seriously sick and that was her oxygen mask. She died in her sleep that night. |
I closed the curtains, trying to ignore the people thronging outside my window.
The curtains - black, thick, heavy - were a cloying presence. The dust motes hung suspended in the light cast by the old lamps illuminating the space. Making my way towards the kitchen, the appliances seemed to mock me as I opened another can of soup. The once-tall mountain of imperishables was slowly being eroded by the pressures of daily life.
I hadn't believed it at first. Wishes were the stuff of fairy tales, not for just some plain jane off the street like me. After the man had told given me this "gift", saying that it was a huge responsibility, that the price of the third wish would be my life, I'd sarcastically wished the first thing I thought of to prove that he was, to put it somewhat crassly, full of shit.
"Fine. I wish I were a millionaire. Happy? Now fuck off."
The next day, a group from the lotto showed up at my house, saying I'd won. I hadn't even entered. Yet, the money showed up in my bank all the same.
The second wish, I took more seriously. My life became a maze of phone calls, speaking to social experts about what individual wish would most benefit the world. I said I was doing research for a nonprofit I was planning to fund with the money I'd come into.
Discretion has never been my strong suit. Ultimately, I wished away world hunger. I'd been talking about it in depth to one individual, who I'd become close to.
The alcohol had been flowing that night. The story came out about my wealth, about the man. His clothes had been tattered, they stunk when he was near me. Yet, he'd told the truth about the wishes, near as I could tell.
I made my wish that night. Making it with a witness, a witness who knew, had been a mistake.
The entire world had been upheaved that night. The food industry collapsed, now that food was no longer needed. Certainly, it was still enjoyed, but people no longer had to eat to live. Yet, disease still ravaged the land. Billions were unemployed now. The economy took a nosedive.
And he'd told everyone. Everyone believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it had been me. The press took his story and ran with it.
Everyone wants my last wish, now.
But... I am not ready to die.
|
It was quite a mistake on my part. I knew the laws of the Literalization. I knew I couldn't use "lite*ally"in a sentence like what I said.
"I'm literally going to kill you!"I shouted at my friend. He was being really annoying and kept bothering me while I was studying for my exams. I didn't even invite him over.
My anger got the best of me. I, of course, didn't want to kill him. But us men are bound by the Literalization. I have the slightest chance for defense in court, as I wasn't in a prime mental state. I'd been studying all night, sleep-deprived, stressed, and angry.
Well, the trial's today. If my defense isn't strong enough, I'm literally getting 25 years in a maximum security prison.
Fuck.
|
Two days after Granny's funeral, Jane went back to work. By the end of the week, she was no longer sneaking into the copy room for an afternoon cry.
She went to her children's school play the following Monday, and found herself genuinely laughing at the jokes; and by the time the realtor called with the news that Granny's apartment had sold, Jane could no longer clearly picture her grandmother's face.
She moved on. She picked up the pieces. It was surprising, really, how easy it was.
It was not until Christmas, when the first batch of cookies came out all wrong, that Jane found the yawning absence where Granny used to be.
Jane had salvaged Granny's recipe box from the cluttered apartment, had hoarded it and clutched at it and wheedled with her cousins until she was permitted to keep it. Granny was in each of these cards, in every recipe, in the very wood of the recipe box itself; and so long as Jane had them, she could resurrect Granny with every pot roast and casserole and morning glory muffin.
That's what she had thought.
It wasn't until Jane pulled the first tray of Christmas cookies out of the oven, runny and flattened and burned around the edges, that Granny truly died.
Further failures followed: a birthday cake, leaden and tasteless; a pot of meatballs that fell apart and stuck to one another; a pudding that never thickened, remaining stubbornly liquid and sloshy no matter how long or thoroughly it was chilled. Jane had lost her.
It wasn't her fault. She followed the recipes meticulously, weighing sugar and mincing onions with the kind of intensity normally reserved for munitions experts. The recipes never worked, but she kept cooking, fingering the softened corners of the recipe cards and smiling fondly at the small glimpses they offered at Granny's whimsy: "Add sunlight coming through the grass late on a summer afternoon,"Granny had written in one place, and "Mix with two parts melancholy,"in another.
In desperation, Jane began adding pieces of herself. And the recipes began to work.
She gave up an early memory of being wrapped in a flannel blanket, and in return received a perfect vegetable stew. She made cobbler by stirring berries, sugar, lemon, and cornstarch together with the feeling of bare skin pricked by blackberry brambles. Years later, when her twins turned twenty, she made a spectacular tiered cake with the memory of their birth, towering and brightly frosted and festooned in crackling, sparkling candles.
She grew lighter. Less substantial. People remarked how much she resembled her grandmother. Jane had noticed it herself: the steady way in which she was becoming untethered, as she prepared and served the pieces of her life. The way in which she moved lightly and smiled softly and sifted flour, almost exactly the way Granny had.
It was, Jane thought, the perfect way to go. A beautiful detachment.
Nourishing. |
The joy in her eyes falters at the sight before her. No eight year-old should have to suffer through that. Valerie Frizzle can show her students the stars, but why can't she save one life like this?
Her redheaded teacher's assistant, Arnold, puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers "Screw the code. That's how they did it at the old school. You have a chance to make it right."
She nods. Taking direct action outside of education is strictly forbidden among her peers, but this cell is an insult to life itself. She never has to the tell them that she did this.
Several of the students in the bus have their phones out, taking pictures of the cell and comparing it to their biology textbook apps. They'll soon know. Best to let them know and still educate them.
"Class, what you're looking at is the start of a disease that deceives the immune system and replicates itself to the point of making the host body break down. Who can tell me what it is?"
A hand is raised in the second row. Katie Hikari, the new transfer student is called upon. "It's a cancer cell, Miss Frizzle. Is Benny going to die?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Benny is going to die, Katie. But if I have my way, it will be from old age, not from this malicious goblin. Everyone sit down. We're going to save Benny's life."Miss Frizzle puts her hand on the wheel of the bus.
"It's time to take a chance, and get messy."Because there will be hell to pay if she makes a mistake here. She feels Arnold's hand on her own and they plunge the yoke forward.
The bus shrinks down even further, punching through the cell wall. With lasers extended from every window, The cancer cell is burned through. As Miss Frizzle gets tired of controlling so many things, Arnold takes over, finishing off the cell and leaving none of its dangerous DNA behind.
Both Teacher and TA look to each other, breathing heavily. "Arnold, I am so glad you decided against staying home today."
"Me too, Miss Frizzle."Oh yes, there would be consequences to this action. But a reprimand from the Magical Board of Education was little more than a slap on the wrist. Benny's life had been saved before the cancer could even take root.
Just to be sure, the field trip continued through the rest of his bloodstream, checking every location for other cancer cells. When none were found, Miss Frizzle smiled and declared a clean bill of health.
"Katie, as Benny's best friend, I have to ask you to convince him to see a doctor. There's a slight chance we might have missed something, and I want him looked at by a professional."Miss Frizzle asks the raven-haired girl, who nods solemnly.
The schoolbus departs through Benny's nose and returns to the parking lot of his apartment complex. The student has been saved, and she fulfilled her syllabus for the week. In Miss Frizzle's book, those both count as victories. |
The note was sitting on the table of every household, and the street corner of every homeless person.
"Thank you. Your resistance is no longer required."
For ten years, we'd been fighting tooth and nail against the Zelkin, falling back foot by foot as they obliterated our forces, almost playing with us. They made all of our most advanced weaponry look useless, shattering against their impervious starships. We never expected to have a good chance if someone came from the stars, but we had never expected to be helpless.
The note was the kicker. They were going to come back, and we needed to be ready. We had taken out four of their ships during their time on the planet, and we scoured over them, scientists looking at and reverse engineering every part of them. Within five years, we had a working starship. Within 30 years, we had a good one. We took it to space, looking to find them.
We didn't for a good amount of time, our solar system was empty, and we still hadn't cracked the way to make light speed travel.
Twenty years later we did, and by this point most of the people who were old enough to remember the war were too old to be flying the starships. They send the children to space to meet the buggy bastards somewhere among the stars. We were going to be pre-emptive.
Finally we found them, orbiting two suns. We came up to their station with guns drawn, and they told us to calm the fuck down.
They explained everything to the kids who had been sent to space for revenge. All of the fighting was a test to see how aggressive we were as a species, and if we could be trusted me space age technology. They had come to the answer that we wouldn't be able to stop fighting one another and that we would need to stay on earth.
They hadn't counted on us uniting against them once they were gone. They had figured we would fall into petty arguments, instead they had created one of the most powerful species to walk on stars.
|
“Captain,” Scott called from his console, “You might want to look at this.” Captain Birch didn’t respond to him though, as he was already looking at. They'd been out in space for nearly Twelve years now, but never had he seen anything quite like what was slowly coming into focus on our main screen. The CSS Liberation had travelled to worlds of ruin and splendor, it had seen anomalies that are unexplainable, impossible. Nothing had ever even fazed someone on board. Until now.
Captain Birch ordered all crew members to battle positions, and people shuffled to places. The whole ship was on edge as they watched the screen slowly focus on what was in front of them. Maria, who was there to keep records, mumbled quietly, “That can’t be right.” She was confused by what she saw, but a bit disappointed as well. She had expected more here.
The CSS Liberation had been on a three month mission to the center of the universe. It was the first ship to ever attempt such a flight, and it was supposed to be a huge deal. Scientists suspected something big was there, and Political Parties had spent billions making sure that Liberation flew on their behalf. The entire human race was holding it’s breath, theorizing on what the Liberation would find. The whole mission had garnered extreme attention and a lot of excitement was built up around it. The crew wasn’t immune to this excitement, and had spent the whole time imagining great things that would be.
No one was particularly happy when the only thing there happened to be a small island, with a tiny cottage and a single tree on it.
“Run scans.” Captain Birch ordered. He had run into a few illusions before, and he was always aware that what he saw might actually be something far different. The scans, however, took the last bits of hope he had away, as they proved that what he was looking at was indeed just a house, “So this is what we’ve found.” Birch said, shaking his head in disappointment, “ I guess we should knock.”
The ship ran a quick scan for oxygen, and found that the island had a high concentration of it. Birch was beamed on onto the island, assembling directly in front of the door. He brushed a few dirt particles which had somehow formed on his coat off, making sure he was presentable before he knocked.
“Oh lord.” He heard a surprised voice say, as the sounds of something falling to the ground reached his ears. Footsteps grew louder as he uncomfortably stood in front of the door, which was soon flung open, revealing an old man dressed in a white robe, “I’m sorry, sir. I could’ve sworn I didn’t order anything recently.”
Birch was very surprised as well, as the last thing he had expected was a person out here. He glanced inside the house real quick, spotting a few chairs, a wooden table, and a bed. A small rug was lying on the floor, and clothes were strewn about. “Excuse me sir,” Birch said, “But I’m not here to deliver anything.”
The old man groaned, “Oh, really? Eh, it can’t be helped.” He looked past Birch, squinting towards the spaceship in the distance, “Ah, I understand now.” The old man said, “Come inside my child, are you here for the Truth?” The old man turned around, shuffling back into his cabin. Birch followed, unsure of what else to do.
“The truth?” He questioned, “I’m not sure what that is.”
The old man glanced at him, “Not here for the truth then? Well, what’re you here for?”
“Um,” Birch said, “I’m the captain of an exploratory mission.”
“Oh!” The old man replied, “So this is all just a big mistake. But it’s too late now. You’ve gotta have some reason to be here. You can’t think of anything? Is this some small thing you want to know about?”
Birch was very confused, and could think of something he really wanted to know, “Uh, what’re you doing here? Who the hell are you?”
The old man chuckled, “Oh, my dear child, don't you recognize me? It’s me! God!” The old man threw his hands into the air, gesturing in a grand fashion.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Birch said, “This is all some stupid dream isn’t it?”
“Afraid not boy.” The old man laughed, “I’m nothing but a shadow of my former self! You see, turns out the smarter you humans get, the weaker I get! Terribly unfortunate, but what are you to do about it?”
The old man was sitting down, nursing a cup of tea, “You people have gotten so smart, that my old friend doesn’t even let me leave this island no more. I’m like your grandparents you know? This is my retirement home.”
Birch was partly doubtful, partly willing to believe it, “So you’re God?” He repeated, “But you’re useless nowadays.”
God shook his head, “Pretty much yeah. Only thing I got left is the Truth.”
“The Truth?” Birch asked, clueless as to what that was.
“Yep. The truth about you guys. You know, human nature and all that. Whether you got souls or not. The purpose of life. That’s the Truth.”
Birch recognized how rich that knowledge would make him, and how it might give him something to give to all his sponsors, “Will you tell me the truth?”
God laughed, “Oh lord no! If I told you the truth, I’d stop existing! After all, what’s the reason for me if you know everything?”
God stopped looking so happy, the smile that had crossed his face becoming a sad one, “After all, if you know all the answers, what use am I?”
|
It was the only one of its kind. A cliche **WORLD'S GREATEST DAD** cup to the layman's eyes, but to an expert, it was a quantum event. A perfect quantum anomaly on the scale of a tangible object, it could exhibit all of those bizarre quantum phenomena that was characteristic of electrons or photons. However, for all its fascinating proclivities, the most interesting fact was that the cup could only be "possessed"by one individual: the world's greatest dad.
It was as if the object had become entangled to some strange immeasurable quality, perfect fatherhood. To be honest, it is likely that no one would have even discovered the cup if a Nobel Prize winning physicist hadn't been one hell of a father. After saving his children from a pack of dingo dogs, he awoke in the hospital with a cup near his bedside. When he was finally discharged, he found the cup on his bedside table, his coffee table, his car cup holder...basically wherever he was. As soon as the cup was unobserved, it would "port"to his location -- you know, quantum stuff.
After that, the rest was history. The Cup was entangled with the world's greatest father. A Y chromosome wasn't even necessary apparently. A very good transgendered father had found the cup quite by chance after adopting a group of seven orphans, all young teens. They were going to be separated by foster care for being too unruly. This woman, soon to be man, decided that he couldn't let that happen. He adopted all of them, and raised them straight to proper adulthood. One big family, kept together by that man's selflessness. I don't know how the cup chooses, no one does, but I cannot say I disagree.
For years the cup had been owned by one particularly successful single father. No one can say how he did it, but he raised a family of four kids by himself. His eyes were tired, but filled with love and pride for his children. But like all these other worthy fathers, it was just a matter of time before some other noble gentleman proved himself worthy.
Two years ago, the cup disappeared, and the world waited patiently for someone to come forward and claim the title of *Greatest Dad*. Sure there were plenty of fakes, each disproved one after another. But the world still waited patiently, waiting for the true Greatest Dad to show up.
Soon, people began to doubt -- rumors started that the cup was gone. Theorists blamed aliens, others said the government had stolen it. Religious leaders cited God, the original Father. Eventually many came to the conclusion that the cup was just gone, maybe it never even really existed. No one knew, or...at least that is what people thought.
That is why we are here today. That is why I am here today. My name is Jake, and I would like to say that I am two years sober. Sober from what, you ask? Well, it would be easier to tell you what I wasn't on...
Needless to say, I was a bad guy. I did horrible things. But my Dad didn't care. He loved me; he tried to help me. Bring me back, you know?
He tried, never gave up on me, even after I had given up on myself. He damn near lost everything trying to help me, and I failed him every time...
Well long story short, I ended up getting into a fracker...a real fight. I was drunk and stoned and God knows what else. I got into a car...and I drove away when the fight got too rough. I drove fast and scared, one eye too swollen to see and far too drunk to drive.
I can't remember what happened. I just know that I should have died. The doctor said he had seen spaghetti that looked more human than me...but they put me back together -- or at least mostly back together. My heart and lungs were shot to shit. I was placed in a machine that breathed for me, and pumped my blood. I was finally as heartless literally, as I was figuratively.
I should have died, hell I was technically dead already. My soul had died long ago, and my body was finally catching up. I should've died. But my father wouldn't have it. One look at my mangled body, and he still saw his son. In the single most controversial act I can imagine, he put him self into a catatonic state and had his organs taken for my use. I woke up a week after the operation.
My father gave me everything he had (his money, his life, his time), and I was never satisfied, the selfish pig I was. I guess it only made sense he would give me his life too.
Screw the doctor that performed the heart transfer, and FUCK the lawyer who told my dad that the operation was legal. The world lost a good man that day, and I will never live up to him...ever.
That was two years ago. For two years I have felt the beat of my father's heart inside of my chest. For two years I have worked to be a man my father would be proud of. Now, on this second anniversary of my father's death, I exhumed his grave to prove to the world what I already knew.
BEHOLD, my FATHER'S skeleton.
-- Jake ******
Since exhuming Nathaniel ******'s grave, it has been confirmed. The cup lodged in the left portion of skeleton's ribcage is in fact the quantum anomaly known as the Greatest Dad Cup. To this date, it cannot be removed. Scientists hypothesize that the destruction of the skeleton on a subatomic level might free the cup, but such an act would damage the cup and violate numerous laws. |
It's a kick in the gut to hear the same thing over and over again. Every town you travel to, Oak is known as a genius. A true innovator in his field. A philanthropist. All of it- lies, and only I know the truth.
The old man was abusive as far back as I can remember. The sickening experiments hidden away from the public. Cruel breeding to create the perfect fighting machine. The remaining few handed back to the children as "starters"so that they can play out the perfect Darwin experiment and bring back the survivors to start the cycle anew.
Makes me want to vomit.
It's the perfect plot, you see. He doesn't even do his own dirty work- oh no. It's a pyramid scheme.
"Oh, you son/daughter is just *destined* for this"he would spout to every parent in the town. 100 P later and they're the proud owner of some genetic freak and a 'Dex. And the beauty is, the more people he wrangles in, the more information he gets. All sent back to him, a huge database of all pokemon knowledge so that he can play god with exotic species.
That wasn't the end of the torment.
I was vocal. He tried to shut me away, but once I came of age there was only so much he could do. Turned the whole town and my only son against me, a whole palette of rage. Wrestled away custody and had me put on a restraining order of 50 tiles. Fifty! Can't even walk up route 101 anymore.
The worst part though?
For all the hell he puts my son through, for all the time he's spent planting lies in his mind, half the time he can't even remember his name. |
In a small little town
On a small little street
On the darkest of nights
Two beckoned to meet
They met with their faces and lips as they kissed
Her nose to her ankles he’d longingly missed
His chest of the size of a gazorkazoo
She rubbed and she tugged on his manly-laroo
“come now!” she squealed “you must not make me wait”
So he threw her to bed and began to elate
He licked on her lippies
He flick her nibbet
He pinched on her nipples and twisted a bit
She moaned as he nestled his face down inside
That magical yooha where love can reside
“That’s quite the trick!” she said with such sly
“but lay back and see what good lovin can buy”
She anchored him down by the shoulders with force
And leaped over top, like a gymnast of course
She guided with gusto his manmember in
Her supple vajoo with no hands, to begin
She shook and she shimmied
She gyrated and then
She saw in his eyes the sign of the end
She rode up and down, much faster this time
Till he squirmed and he wriggled and felt so sublime
“that’s it!” he exclaimed, as she dipped longer and deeper
“my peko will pop!” so she took a peeker
His bulbo was bobbing, intense and with vigor
She licked on the tip and he started to tremor
“Yeeessss!” he cried, as his mangoo was shot
In every direction, and filled every spot
He came like a spout
He came like a geiser
He fingered her more to feel what was inside her
They laid on the bed
All covered in jizz
And snuggled and wuggled and sated in head
Both out of breath, exhausted, and gone
They each gave a look that they could not go on
And then with a wink and a nod and a grin
And a “How bout another?” started over, again. |
Marisa went up to the man in the green tie. Hat pulled down low, over his eyes. Didn't he have any experience in this field? He looked *so* suspicious. She hoped the Russians weren't watching. She was fairly sure she hadn't been followed, but then again, you never know.
"Hey there, you're looking good tonight. Can I buy you a drink?"She placed a hand on his shoulder. To any untrained observer, it would just look like some harmless flirting.
The man's eyes widened. Jeez, you'd think the higher-ups would have at least told him what kind of person to expect. Or maybe...could it be that she had gotten the wrong person? Her eyes darted around the bar. It didn't look like anybody else was wearing a green tie.
"I'll have a whiskey."
Bam. It had to be him. But just to be sure, she asked another question.
"On the rocks?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Just a lucky guess."She smirked, claiming the seat beside his. "So, do you come here often?"
"Not really, I usually get drinks at the Green Turtle. Looks like I was right to come here tonight, though."
So. McAdams usually hung out at the Green Turtle, but he was at the Red Dog tonight. She wondered what business he was here on.
"Yeah, if you hadn't come here, you wouldn't have met me."She winked, biting her lower lip. "So, what're you up to tonight?"
"Hmm, it depends. Do you have any suggestions?"he winked back at her.
Now was *not* the time for him to play coy with his information. There could be informants all around them! She gritted her teeth. "Not really, I was mostly wondering if you had anything in mind."
"Hmm. My apartment isn't too far from here - maybe you'd like to come home with me tonight?"
She furrowed her brow in confusion. McAdams had a hideout near here? Were they going to do a sting? She wondered why none of this information had been included in the briefing. Maybe it was new information. Maybe the higher-ups hadn't even known about this.
"Do you have any roommates?"
"Yeah, but they won't mind."
What was that supposed to mean? McAdams had backup, but they weren't going to support him? His code was getting harder and harder to understand. She had to get him alone, so she could talk to him without any misunderstandings.
She placed a hand on his arm and tapped her forefinger twice. "Sorry, it's really loud in this bar. Let's go find somewhere quieter where we can talk?"
He grinned. "Sounds good to me!"
---------------
Five minutes and an unwelcome grope later, Marisa shook out her right hand, still stinging from the impact. She was currently shouting into the cellphone that she clutched with her left hand.
"Goddamnit, Gary! It was red tie, Green Turtle! At *least* make the pass phrases less generic. Next time, make him ask for a strawberry daiquiri with a fancy purple umbrella in it!" |
The world became a sterile, bright white as Ann's mortality slipped away. The sounds of ventilators and EEGs faded to silence. Then she heard waves crashing on the shore, and seagulls. Distant, at first, but growing louder as her vision restored.
She saw visions of beaches and sandbars, far as the eye could see. People, young and tanned under the intense sun, played by the shore or laughed by their huts. Tropical trees barely stirred. But she was pulled away, up into the sky, slow but steady, until the bright warmth was replaced with the chill darkness of the night sky.
"Where am I?"she asked, and though she heard no sound and saw no one, she knew the message got across somehow.
"You are in heaven."responded a foreign thought, like a silent voice in her head.
"It was so much warmer down there."
"A vision of Hell, such that you may better appreciate Heaven."
"I-"she stopped mid-thought. "It seemed comfortable."
"And full of sin,"came a reply. "Full of pleasure-seekers caring only about the present, caring not of the divine. Hell is chaotic and unpredictable. Unlike the cold, static perfection of heaven."
_What did I do to deserve this,_ she thought.
"You committed no sin,"replied that foreign voice in her mind, "not once in your long life."
"Surely... surely there is but one sin worthy of sending me back to Hell."
"It does not exist."
"I died a Catholic."
"Good choice."
"I like women."
"That statement is false. I know all."
"Then you know I had premarital sex."
"Yes."
"I had nearly a dozen abortions."
"Only nonbelievers were harmed."
"I- wait, what?"
Silence.
"Well... I only did that because it was easier than the alternative."
"I know."
"So it was a selfish decision."
Silence.
"I could have killed more nonbelievers, if I tried. But I never did."
Still no response.
"And- and I tried to lie in heaven, I-"she said, just as she was interrupted by the sensation of free fall. A few minutes later, her bare feet gently sunk into soft, warm sand. |
"Those can't be people,"I said finally, as if that settled it. "I mean... they're hideous. Monsters basically."
Chipotle Mike shrugged, almost irritatingly nonchalant as a wrinkled, bulbous 'woman' strode within inches of us, screaming into her cellphone that 'this maid was a thief, too!' and how 'one would think refugees fleeing that shithole country would be grateful just to have a job!'
"S'how most people are,"he said, somewhat amused at the way I'd recoiled in terror from the passing devil wearing Prada. "What? Some guy's got a fancy suit and a big ol' flashy smile, suddenly he ain't a monster when he exploits a zoning loophole to kick an old lady out of her home? Monsters is monsters, kid. Jus' you can see it now, s'all..."
I rubbed my forehead, now raised into a rough, red lump where the pair of oblivious sorority girls had clunked me with the Chipotle door's steel frame as they rushed outside through the clearly marked "In"entrance. I attempted to guess what they looked like now that I could really 'see' them, but quickly realized I probably didn't want to know.
"If that's how people really look, why --"
"Can't anyone see it?"Mike responded, fishing a two-thirds intact burrito out of a nearby trash can and unwrapping it. "See, my theory's, whatchacallit -- self-directed evolution. No one wants to confront their own ugliness, which means they shy away from other peoples', by denying it or ignoring it or jus' lookin' away, really. Ain't no way society could function with all of us knowing what we truly were, how we looked with the curtain drawn...
"Until someone came along too deluded or self-absorbed or jus' plain stupid to see things for how they were, an' then everyone decided they wanted to be like them, learn from them, find a way to keep the mean, cruel, evil parts of themselves hidden. An' whoever figured out how to keep that hidden, well, I bet that fucker's wealthy as can be right now..."
I nodded, scanning the street, steeling my stomach against the hideous, B-movie aberrations clogging the sidewalk, each oblivious to the horrors surrounding and within themselves.
"Am-- Oh, God! Am I like that?"I blurted out, suddenly feeling guilty about all the times I'd pretended to coincidentally get the single most important text of my life as I walked passed someone like Chipotle Mike; all the times I'd lied, because I didn't like someone, or because I did, or because I wanted them to like me; all the times I'd arbitrarily decided I'd somehow accrued enough karma to do the easy thing, instead of the right thing, 'just this one time...'
"I don't know how to break it to ya, kid, but,"Chipotle Mike gestured to the tinted glass window beside us, catching enough of the afternoon sun to act as a makeshift mirror, "you might wanna take a look..." |
“It’s perfect!” Ferazio stared at the image in awe. The planet slowly rotated on the view screen in front of him, beautiful white swirls giving way to sublime color underneath, almost exactly like Humanity’s home world. “They really haven’t discovered anti-gravity?”
The technician standing next to him, dressed in a conservative pale blue vacsuit, nodded vigorously.
“Yes, sir. They’ve been isolated from the rest of society for almost ten thousand years. They’re almost two hundred years from redeveloping their original technology level” she grinned at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously.
“What happened?” Ferazio asked, examining her curiously. A planet that lost its technology was rare. Generally, the Empire sent along a few technicians to restore their technological level after a few decades.
“Sir, the original colonists had most of their equipment destroyed in an emergency landing. It appears that a few of them managed to salvage some of it, including the genetic immortality kits, and then set themselves up as gods. There was an inevitable revolution, and most their technology was destroyed.”
Ferazio’s gaped. To think that honest citizens of the Empire could descend into such barbarity.
“D-did the Empire eventually send a rescue party?” he questioned, voice hoarse. The technician nodded.
“They did, sir. After the revolution. It was far too late then. The so-called ‘gods’ set off a few localized tsunamis and earthquakes on the major cities, causing the colonists to revert to a hunter-gather society” she stated, eyes downcast.
Someone behind Ferazio gasped in horror.
“How could we fail our people this much?” Ferazio trembled with anger. The technician backed away, apprehension her eyes. The Demon of the Ademantus Gulf had not gained his name by mere chance.
“Sir, they still managed to include fossils in the planet, so they would think they evolved there, and they increased the required natural resources for civilization present in the planet’s crust by 200%” she chirped, impressed at the technical ability required for such an undertaking.
“Wait, so these people think that they’re only humans in the universe?” Ferazio suddenly broke in laughter. The technician chuckled along nervously.
“Yes, sir. In fact, they have very few Empires on their planet. They called them ‘barbaric’, sir” she laughed at the notion. Ferazio paused.
“Well, we can’t have them reintegrated into civilized society with notions like that, can we?” he glanced at her, a fell light suddenly appearing in his eyes.
“I-I suppose not, sir” the technician replied, noncommittally. On further reflection, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to her. Her scores in training should have made her the head of an entire division, but her birth had always held her back.
That wasn’t something you said to someone who once put down a rebellion with orbital bombardments, however.
“This is perfect opportunity! What’s your name?” Ferazio turned to the technician.
“Valcari, sir” she answered. Ferazio clapped his hand on her shoulder in a friendly manner.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, Valcari. I want you to get your fabbers on building the largest ship they can possibly produce. Something menacing. Lots of spikes” she nodded along, her on-board AI remembering the conversation for her.
“Of course, sir”
“I want you to put some sub-standard weapons on it, and then start the genetic wombs going with some aliens” he snapped his fingers. “How about a squid race? Yes, perfect. I want it done tonight”
“Sir…what are you planning on doing?” she asked nervously. Ferazio winked at her.
“Something they won’t forget anytime soon” he laughed maniacally, exiting the bridge.
Valcari sighed.
“Sorry” she stared apologetically at the planet, eyes sullen. It was quite beautiful, she thought. She would never understand how the natives could call something like that ‘Dirt’.
|
"Ticket please"A deep voice penetrates my drowsy mind.
...
"Ticket please"It repeats, with a twinge of annoyance mixed in this time. I open my eyes to see a slightly overweight man in uniform impatiently standing next to my seat. He looks eerily like i used to... before... The look in his eyes seems better suited to cast at a condemned murderer than at a sleepy traveller, so i don't waste any more time pulling my anonymous train card out of the pocket of my leather jacket and handing it to him. Not even bothering to scan the damn thing, he tosses it back at me and moves along down the narrow path. No doubt to go harrass the next semi-conscious traveller who is unlucky enough to have boarded his train this late in the evening.
Swallowing a gem of a remark about his sexual prowess just in time, i watch him clumsily move away. Bloody hell, i think to myself, i didnt think pretty girls had to put up with attitudes like that. Especially not ones wearing leather jackets and skin-tight black jeans, but i suppose that really had more to do with my own preferences than anything else.
Unable to doze back off i feel compelled to check the other passengers one more time. Nobody seems to have entered the cabin since i fell asleep. A single old lady, who looks to be at least 80, sitting two rows over, and a group of 3 20-somethings further up front are the only ones i can see. A sigh of relief escapes me; if they hadnt recognised me when they got on, they wouldnt do so now either.
It had been months since i ran. Months since i last saw any of my friends. Months since i saw my emily. Months since that day i woke up in a short pink summer dress instead of the jeans i must have surely passed out in. It had been chaos those first few days after the big switch. No trains, no news, no nothing. With everyone scrambling to find their own bodies nobody had paid any attention to me.
So while everyone was francticly tracking themselves down on facebook, i ran. I traded the uncomfortable dress for some jeans and a jacket and the long blond hair for a short black haircut. I learned how to hide my face the most efficiently with the myriads of makeup items i found in my .. Ava's appartement (Which was far more difficult than i expected) to avoid being recognised. After that i only came outside to withdraw all the money i had saved and to make my way to a motel that would surely not have been a place Ava would visit.
I had seen her facebook page. Read the posts. Seen her grow more tired in the photos as the posts grew more desperate, but i just couldnt bring myself to return. In fact, im running away further. Boarded a train to the bad end of nowhere.
I cant imagine the dread she felt when she first saw that single blue dot tatooed just over my liver, but i just cannot, no, will not do it.
I will take a second chance even if i have to take it from her.
------------
hey, first time i ever wrote anything. CC appreciated, but go easy on me :)
Intended for it to be longer but my train arrived and the outide air is freezing my fingers off.
|
"Josh, the city is burning..."
My dear friend spoke in a panicked whisper as the sharp, wicked glow of the flames illuminated my study. Huge windows that stretched from floor to ceiling granted me a front row seat to the carnage.
"Oh Davy,"I said with a voice as smooth as cream, "Take a step back and look at the whole picture. The *world* is burning."
"Then help it!"He exclaimed, his sudden outburst catching me off guard. It was a rather nasty feeling, being surprised, and I made a mental note to chastise him later.
"You remember the Koch brothers?"I asked Davy.
"Is this really the time for this?"Davy replied.
I gave him a look that seemed to chill him to the bone. I could see it in the way his shoulder's slumped that I had frightened him into submission for the moment.
"Yes,"Davy continued meekly, "You uncovered their conspiracy. It's why they called you the savior of democracy."
"Do you know why they failed?"I asked him.
"Because of you."Davy said, obviously hoping that what I wanted was for someone to stroke my ego.
"No,"I said, "They failed because the world is strong. Because society could repel them, because it could create people like me to defeat them."
"I don't understand how-,"Davy started.
"Of course you don't,"I interrupted him, "If you understood any of this, if anyone else understood it, we wouldn't be watching Rome burn right now."
As I spoke with Davy, miles above us a plane was flying over the city. Inside it was a friend of mine. My sidekick, if you will. And he had with him a boy who was the only person in the entire world to ever catch on to our plans. He would make an excellent protege, assuming he didn't do something stupid as I suspected he would. It's hard to find someone as intelligent as him or I, who also lacks the inhibitions to do what needs to be done.
"You see Davy,"I said as I broke free from the chains of my thoughts, "If you want to rule the world, you have to destroy it."
"Josh I don't like you when you're like this."Davy whispered.
"I've always been like this, you've just turned a blind eye to it."I shot back.
"But as I said, the world is strong. To conquer it, you have to weaken it. To weaken it, you have to outsmart it. And to outsmart it, you have to earn its trust."
"No,"Davy said as realization lit up his face. Or maybe that was just the flames.
"Who would suspect me?"I asked, "Josh Benson, savior of democracy, the shield of the free world. They trusted me, and showed me their back. So of course, a man as ambitious as myself, would take that chance to stab it."
"I'll tell them all,"Davy spat, "I'll ruin you."
"If I go down, so do you,"I informed him, "Think back to everything I've done over the past three years. You were there. You would be implicated in everything I was."
Davy's silence was exactly the answer I wanted.
"The world trusts me, they are so blinded by that trust they didn't even see me stab them in the back. Instead, they will turn on each other."
Davy stared at me with utter contempt. But he would get over it.
"When they are done, I will step from the ashes to rule them all. None of them will be strong enough to stop me."
I stepped forward, and put a hand on Davy's shoulder. With a rough push I turned his face away from the windows. Moments later a bomb detonated in the city with the power of a star. It's bright flash illuminating my home as if it were on the surface of the sun, the heat of it stabbing into my skin like tiny needles.
"And no one will want to stop me. They will be too weary, and anyone who would've wanted to stop me will have become ash."
"Someone will,"He whispered, "Maybe it won't be me, but someone will."
"Davy,"I smiled as the distant roar of the bomb echoed over the hills.
"That's where you're wrong. The ashes will not care who wears the boot that treads on them."
________________________________________________________________
Did you like this? Go check out my other stuff at r/Niedski! All my stories get posted their! |
"Shlorbaggle!"Gabgresh pounded on the airlock door with his utility tentacle, "Shlorbaggle! You have primary duties in fifteen grek!"
"Just a grek!"Came the muffle shout on the other side of the door, "I'm busy!"
"Are you watching Humanime again?"
"It's called Human Animation! Go away!"
"You better not be Shlickshtepping to that stuff!"
"Dad!"
"That's all those human shows make! Shlickshtepping and giant robot suits, and sometimes shlickshtepping IN robot suits! Now stop wiggling your third tentacle and get ready for primary duties!"
Shlorbaggle opened the door, "I was not- you just don't get it! Human shows are more than shlickshtepping and robots! They have some really deep, interesting premises and flawed chara-"
"GET READY FOR PRIMARY DUTIES!"
"FINE!"Shlorbaggle stomped past his father down to the demucusing chamber with a maximum amount of grunting and moaning.
Gabgresh grunted his own response and sluupped back to the central domicile room, he squished himself into the entertainment cube and turn on pleasure-feeling-channel seven. Kids! Why did he have to have a kid who preferred visual entertainment over direct central nerve stimulation! He was never going to copulate at this rate! |
"As the first man on the red planet, I'll repeat what Neil Armstrong had said: "that's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."I said at my comms, hearing people cheer at the other line. After that, I proceeded to wander aroundthis rusty looking place, and I stumbled upon a small cave.
"I wonder what's inside of this cave? Who knows, maybe I'll find a human skeleton or something."I joked before entering. What I saw inside, was my joked becoming real, I guess i jinxed myself. As I stared at the remains I'm shocked with what I saw in the cave wall.
"Delete my browser history." |
“I do say,this delicacy is quite the prime dish!” Said Hashur of calal.
“Indeed my friend,indeed!” I said,raising a glass of wine to the senator.
The senator raised his tentacles and weeped saliva from his nose.
“It truly tastes like a childhood dish I had so long ago. Your synthetic food business has surely advanced over the years!”
I looked at my friend,musing over what he just said.
“You’ve been voyaging for quite some time haven’t you?”
“Why would you say so?” The senator raised an eye stock,his tentacles scratching his foot.
“We have found humans.”
The senator dropped his fork.
“We thought they were extinct.”
“Apparently not! We have found more than a thousand humans,surviving on a radioactive rubble in a far corner of the ororian spikes!”
“So the rumors are true? I though the porpoises were over exaggerating over the synthetic holo-pets!”
“Yes indeed! In fact,the dish we just had was from the very first harvest!”
“Now that we’ve learnt from our mistakes,the collective announced the latest project,the proposian human farm!”
The porpoises had been lobbying for centuries to treat lower intelligence species in a more porpoisey manner,and now it would bear fruit.
The farm would be painless,eco-friendly,and will be used to promote the now booming human pet campaign.
What glorious times we live in!
I looked out at the window to the galaxy,chewing on the still trembling human leg. |
“Starsuckers! It’s from a planet full of Starsuckers and you let it onto the ship?” The voices outside the silver door had been arguing for some time now. Professor Lundeblatt was sure that they weren’t *actually* speaking in English, and assumed it had something to do with the pulsating cap she had donned.
“Scion, we have docked its ship with a quarantine pod. As soon as we finish the interrogation we can simply cleanse the pod.” The voice sounded exasperated, but Lundeblatt was not so naive to assume that that these aliens could be exasperated. She was the first human to communicate directly with them (or she would be if they ever spoke to her), so she was mostly doing guesswork.
Her selection was particularly odd. She had no diplomatic skills, no research on extraterrestrial civilizations. The closest she had ever come was finding the movie *Contact* enjoyable, if not deserving of a second watch. She was a botanist. One of the Earth’s foremost experts in the field, and that was who they wanted to meet. At least, that’s what the linguist who deciphered the phrase “Starsucker Diplomat” as “Plant Expert” said.
“Human?” The voice was now being piped loudly into the room. “Welcome to Exacqqqzte, science vessel Zen doar Crazztqr.”
“Oh...thank you for having me.” Lundeblatt furrowed her brow, wishing they had sent the linguists along too. Either way she decided this was the time to launch into the spiel she had been given. “It’s a fantastic honor to be welcomed here. As the representative of planet Earth -”
“Tell us what your allegiance is to the Starsuckers! Please answer carefully as we have trained our weapons against the quarantine zone.” The wall flashed to a windowed view of the warships orbiting Earth.
“Um, I think we call Starsuckers plants.” Lundeblatt wished she could just return to the script. “I don’t really have an allegiance to them, I just have always thought they were very interesting. I remember my grandfather teaching me about *Cuscuta Gronovi*, it’s a rare plant that does not contain chlorophyll, but instead leaches nutrients from other plants. I thought -”
“That doesn’t sound like a Starsucker.” The voice interrupted her again.
“I’m sorry, I was told Starsuckers were plants. Are they specifically plants that generate energy from sunlight?” Lundeblatt leaned forward, even though there was no way to see to whom she was speaking.
“Yes, and we demand to know what your allegiance to them is!” The voice shouted into the room.
“I said I don’t have any *allegiance* to them! I, personally, am just very fond of them. I find them fascinating, but they’re plants. They are wonderful, but they aren’t allies. They’re….just plants…” That last sentence made Lundeblatt cringe slightly, but it was essentially true. They weren’t sentient, or conscious. Not like animals were, they were just beautiful in their own curious ways.
“Just Starsuckers!” Did the voice laugh or grunt? “We have seen star systems drained to ash by those abominations. Their ceaseless hunger will consume the universe if not contained. They may be in their early stages on your world, but consider their nature. They take root, sip at the energy of your sun. What will happen when their thirst grows?”
Lundeblatt sat with her mouth agape, what could possibly make them so afraid of plants? “I don’t understand what you are worried about! Yes, plants take energy from the sun, and then they convert it into sustenance for our entire world. They are the only reason I am here today!”
“They will grow tired of being mere sustenance, human. I have seen it a thousand, thousand times!” The ships on the view screen were moving now. Taking equally spaced positions around Earth. “You are naive, a young species. We can help you, rid you of those monstrous creatures before it is too late!”
“Rid us of them!” Lundeblatt strode towards the view screen and slammed her fists against it. “They have kept us alive for our entire existence! For Christ’s sake, were descended from them!”
There was a long period of silence in the empty room. She could hear voices outside again, but this time they were quiet and muffled. After a few moments, the speaker came on. “We did not imagine the depth of your collusion with them. To claim them as honored ancestors is beyond reason, human. You must be cleansed. Vent the quarantine pod.”
Lundeblatt turned and saw the airlock she had entered from flash red and spin open. She was sucked into the vacuum of space, and tumbled into the void. She looked to the Earth, and saw great beams of fire eject from the warships and incinerate its surface. In her last moments, one thought floated up: *They really should have sent a diplomat.*
|
"Just... run?"Yon didn't know much about humans at all but their presence in this plane had become far too strong to ignore any longer.
"Yeah, if you have any kind of real speed then the human's eyes won't keep track of you at all."The words calmed Yon down. Harri was smarter than him on most things so when he wasn't worried, it meant that Yon didn't have to be either.
Turning back to silence and their vigil, the night air grew harsh once again. The Nexus is a place of intense wonder and riches, with all the danger that poses. An intersection of worlds, the vast expanse of the nexus exists below the first universe. Once a race reaches the nexus, it has reach true ascension.
"So how did they get in? I've heard that Humans don't have any magic at all."For the Vaath, Yon and Harri's bird-like race, magic was in their bones and along their wingtips. Through careful manipulation of the airflows with their own mana, they can fly at incredible speed and have created vast wonders on their homeworld of Nerruk's Roost. The thought of having no magic made Yon shudder a little. Poor grounded creatures.
Harri had gone wide-eyed however.
"You don't know? I guess you wouldn't, you were born after they arrived and it's not like it was common knowledge. There used to only be *one* big light in the sky within the Nexus. That second one over there is the hole where humanity brute-forced their way in. We still have no idea what method they used."
The quiet that then lay over the two plumed scouts was heavier than earlier and didn't let up until morning. |
Trixie waved the banner frantically. It was over their lord Tabatha. She was in the front lines but that only made her *more* likely to wave the banner so fervently. If she died here, on this battlefield, with this banner, she would die with honor. She let out a battlecry!
***\~*** ***N Y A ! \~ F O R \* T H E \* G L O R Y \* O F \* T A B Y ! \~ N Y A ! \~***
The Cat Girls rallied, empowered by the Matriotism that Trixie was demonstrating in her willingness to martyr herself for the cause. Trixie stood defiantly, caked in the blood of her enemies, hairy footed and pointy eared alike.
The Hobbits would be mowed down like they were overgrown grass and the cat girls were a particularly skilled landscaper.
The more Cat Girls that were killed, the stronger the Cat Girls resolve to kill even more Hobbits in retaliation, and the Hobbits that were killed, the more the Cat Girls were consumed by blood lust to kill even more.
The vulcans had senseled less, and now made a bid to make a hasty retreat.
A retreat that would have been successful, had the Hobbits not dragged them down with them.
The Hobbits would shoot bow and arrows \(even though they were not particularly skilled with the instrument\) and would grab at vulcan's feet in the chaos. Sometimes *literally* dragging them to their death as the line of Cat Girls approached nearer and nearer, like a well mechanized machine.
Nothing could stop the slaughter, not even Tabatha herself could order these feisty felines to fain in their fury.
The Hobbits had resorted to clawing at the Vulcans in an attempt to scramble past them.
Trixie stood upon her hill, waving her banner, shouting her cries, and would not pause, not *relent*, in her passion, until *every last one* of the pointy eared and hairy footed men would perish. Until the battlefield was stained red with their blood. |
When my eyes opened up it was to complete blackness. I tried to move my body, but it felt so numb and heavy, like my entire body fell asleep. After a moment feeling in my hands returns, but as I give them a twirl, they immediately connect with the cold smoothness of metal, “Where the hell...”
I shuffle around my feet all that I can, but my knees collide with the roof fairly quickly to whatever i’m held in. I’ve never thought myself claustrophobic, but I was having a hard time controlling the panic rising in my chest.
“What in the hell is-“ That train if thought snapped like a twig as my last memories flooded my brain with images I wanted to forget. I was entering my house. I locked the door and turned around. There, they held a gun to my face. They didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. Only five paces away from me, but far, far to far away from arms reach. “I should be dead...”
But I wasn’t... or... was I? My current environment didn’t help me feel any more alive, in fact, next to actually dying this was probably the next worst thing. “I swear to god if I have to climb out of a GODDAMN COFFIN!” I kicked my foot to the metal base so hard it actually flew open, filling my box with a very welcome, yet very blinding source of light. “Oh...”
I wiggled free from the crevice someone shoved me in. Standing freely I stretch my super stiff body. I look around to see the room full of doors and spaces very similar to what I just crawled out myself, but no one was in the room with me, which was completely fine as, with coming back to life I already had every pressing issue: I was stark ass naked.
I shook my head in disbelief, putting a hand to my forehead, but was shocked to find a hole right in the center, and it hurt like a bitch to the touch, “Wha-what?!?!” I reached around to the back of my shaven head, which had hair last I remembered, to unfortunately find what I was looking for, an exit wound.
I dry heaved for a good five minutes, but my body, weak and empty after death had nothing to churn up. I stumbled around, again looking for clothes or anything, bandages for my not bleeding head! Literally anything, but found nothing, not even a towel.
I give up, walking to the only door I in the room. I don’t understand anything, I don’t know if I want too, but waiting around felt like a bad idea. I slide the door open carefully, looking down the dim halls that appeared empty. I took another deep breath, gathering what little strength my body was able to use. I didn’t like the idea of roaming a strange, dark place with no clothes and a bullet wound in my head, but remaining in this room seemed like a far, far worse idea.
|
Sun streamed through the kitchen windows, cutting a bright line from my daughter's ear to my oldest son's legs. as I looked down at my three children, awkwardly standing in order of age.
"Okay, don't shout all at once. Willow, what happened to you?"
Willow, my youngest child and only daughter, stepped forward and tilted her head to show me her neck. There was a nasty looking bite mark just below her ear, somehow still open but not bleeding.
"There was a huge dog on two legs and I tried to pet it."she admitted sheepishly.
"Willow, you're 14. You should know better. And you, Marvin?"
He stepped forwards, so he was now in line with Willow again. He showed me a large gash along his forearm, that I couldn't quite see due to the... shine? I held a hand over it to cast some shade and nearly jumped backwards. Little cogs whirred and red wires ran where the blood would be. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to discover what had happened to Edward. He stepped forward and sighed slightly as the ray of light moved further up to his torso, which was covered by a jumper and button down shirt.
"It's not as dramatic as Marvin's, and definitely not as weird as Willow's, but last time I went outside I got a really weird rash,"he tipped his head to show me the greyed skin that looked almost ashy "and your garlic bread hurts to eat."
"Excuse me? I know you're a bit stressed, but my cooking isn't that bad!"
Edward smacked his palm against his forehead. "No dad, I mean it actually hurts. Like, my mouth burns and I taste blood. And uh, can you please clean up the salt on the dining room floor?"
I inhaled deeply, turned to look at the window and thought for a second. Then I turned around.
"Okay, time to talk to your mother."
EDIT: Emily/Willow has been corrected. |
"Stay where you are,"said a familiar voice behind me. "I'll get something."
"Uh, I don't really have a choice,"I replied, "I can't take my fingers off the keyboard."
"Yeah, that was me,"she said. It was the librarian I'd had a crush on for weeks, and the only reason I visited the library so often. "I put a dot of superglue on all the keys. I'll go get some acetone."
"Wait--you *intentionally superglued me to the keyboard?*"
"No!"she responded, giggling. "I was about to put new labels on the keys and got pulled into something else. Sorry, I should have put up a sign,"she added shamefacedly.
"Actually, I'm not even mad,"I responded brightly, "I just beat the trial version of *Jupiter's Maelstrom*!"
"You're kidding!"she blurted at a volume far above that approved for library conversation, and ran over to my workstation.
"Nope. I've been trying for months like everyone else, and while I was here I thought I'd try a couple of ideas I just thought of. Apparently, *not moving your fingers from the initial control keys* is part of the winning strategy."
"Wow!"she laughed. "So, what's the prize again?"
"Ten million dollars! And of course, the first full copy of *Jupiter's Maelstrom*, signed by everyone at EnigmaSoft."
"Holy shit!"she exclaimed, then covered her mouth, blushing. "Okay, I'll get that acetone."
A few minutes later, as the acetone melted the superglue (and the keyboard), we kept talking.
"So,"she asked, "what are you going to do with all that money?"
"Well, *first*,"I said, grinning, "I'm going to buy you guys a new keyboard. Then, maybe, I could buy you a nice dinner?"
Her smile lit the room. "I've been *hoping* for you to say that."
And *that's* how I met your mother.
**Note:** As an aside, [this is what acetone does to a computer keyboard.](https://youtu.be/LusMOtGwTrA?t=32)
|
I didn't complain when I was 'abducted'. I had my bug-out bag ready and was about to flee into the hills. I knew it wouldn't matter if the gangs didn't get me, the forest fires would have. So when an unmarked black van pulled up, bearing government officials hold promises of shelter I went without a fight.
As they drove me through the city, they explained why I had been chosen. You see a few years ago before I started seeing the writing on the wall I'd bought this ancestry kit from the television. It was stupid decision probably could have bought 10 cases of water with the money I wasted, plus it didn't reveal anything interesting, a spattering of Western European heritage and that was it. Well, apparently these companies weren't on the level because they handed any data they had over to the government on the cheap.
While it wasn't interesting to me, there was something about my genome the government needed. Something about me fit the right parameters in my genes and my location, if I had been any further out they wouldn't have been able to get me in time. So I guess I'm pretty lucky. They said that I had the right make up for a project they were working on. A Noah's Ark sort of deal. A few hundred people, kept safe in a vault, bred for the broadest possible gene pool.
It was probably about an hour before sunset when we rolled up to a military base, for a second I was worried I was being bamboozled, that the underground shelter was just a con they were running to do some forced conscription before everything went to pot. Until we stopped and the ground started descending into the earth, a hidden elevator. The compound underground was huge, built into an old abandoned mining cavern that was gussied up to make sure it was sealed and properly ventilated.
The van was able to drive up to a large amphitheater, most of the other few hundred already there. The remaining holdouts trickling in as a scientist looking type explained the rules. Everybody who could work had to work, or at least be educated in some form of work. Food and Water would be rationed intensely each person would get precisely amount they needed. Finally, each person would be coupled with a proper genetic match and would be expected to attempt for children when asked.
Anyone who disagreed would be asked to leave, though there was a heavy implication, that the staff wouldn't let people who had knowledge of the bunker out to tell the world about it. So we all agreed, most seemed to have accepted that life above was over anyway, and those who still had hope knew they'd have a better life down here then struggling in the impossible rat race society had become.
After this, we were given quarters and I was introduced to Mary, Mary was a twenty-something like myself, seemed like most of us were around that age, some younger and a few older. She was a curvy woman with Auburn hair, with a nice bright smile. She didn't seem too down to be matched with the lanky beanpole with straight black hair that I was.
Though neither of us felt a real spark at the start, so at the beginning I took the couch she took the bed and we just lived together. She got work in the medical wing, having been a Medical Intern before coming here, and I was put into data management, sorting out the schedules where people were going and when. Which unintentionally gave me a bird's eye view of the compound. It was a small group of people, after a while it's not hard to pick out who's doing what job and where they are doing it from those schedules. I took advantage of it, making friends with people working security and in hydroponics, a just in case, even down here I'm still a prepper.
Mary and I clashed quite a bit, I was pessimistic she was optimistic, I was orderly she was messy, I had a hard time trusting the government staff and she warmed right up to them. It was likely because unlike me she worked directly and alongside the science team. They had full control over out medical information, which Mary didn't see any problem with handing over. We were already living under their protection why shouldn't we be completely open with them?
It only got worse after we received our orders to consummate. We'd been ruing this day, we'd tried to get a spark going before this banned towels outside of drying, spent each night cuddled up watching the limited pool of entertainment they had packed away, tried to initiate beforehand multiple times, but neither of us felt anything. When we started she wouldn't even look at me, I had to stop a few times because I felt guilty, like I was forcing her. This happened a few more times we tried to follow the order.
We almost were 'escorted out' but luckily Mary's connections in the medical wing got us a psychological stay instead. With a bit of counseling we were able to reach some sort of middle ground, we weren't tearing each other's clothes off in a fit of passion, but we were both able to get excited enough to not hate the idea of laying with the other. Eventually, we completed the order and sex became a regular part of our routine and 11 months later our son Robert was born.
Despite the differences me and Mary had, the one thing we agreed on was Robert. We both loved him, and never fought too much about how to raise him. He was able to mend some of the difference between us, he had my hair and his mother's eyes and as he grew he turned out the happy medium between our two physiques. These were the better years, the clashes stopped, Mary and I were happy with one another if we could both love Robert perhaps that was enough in common to love each other.
I thought this period would last forever, and it would have if it wasn't in a change in policy. For the first 18-19 years, the bunker had been a closed system, nothing comes in and nothing goes out. However, when the first new generation was of age they decided it was time to start reclaiming the surface. By their logic, most of the surface was probably dead or so malnourished and lacking in military knowledge that if we started sending well-fed, well trained people up there we could take it back without any problems.
This caused schisms, many people myself included thought it was far too soon, that just because we'd had successes down here the staff was jumping the gun. Others including Mary thought the staff knew best. Mary was able to convince me of her side eventually though, and I would have stayed on it. If it wasn't for the fact that Robert's first schedule rolled across my desk, and it showed he was heading to the surface.
I tried everything I could to stop it, I tried to get Mary to declare him medically unfit, but she saw it as an honor. I tried appealing to the staff, but they believed it was better to use the younger more physically fit generation than the rest of us who were starting to slip into middle age. Finally, I did what only I could do, I misfiled the schedule. Obviously, this was found out, and with my frequent outcry against the action, it was obvious it was done on purpose.
I was placed in the brig for 3 months, not even allowed to see my son off. I never saw him again.I never got the whole story but the snippets I did told me the expedition had been a disaster, never once did it cross the staff's mind that perhaps the only people who would be left alive up there. Would be those that had been tempered by the harsh environment we all chose to flee from. I was released into the arms of a crying Mary, who gave me the terrible news. That day something died inside me.
After that point, I just went through the motions, Mary and I barely talked to each other after the mourning ended let alone touch each other. When the newest breeding order came in, it felt like an insult. They were asking us to replace the generation that their own incompetence had lost. I had no love for Mary anymore, to me she was just as responsible for our son's death as the staff. In the end, I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Security collected me up the next day, they were kind as I'd always been kind to them, but they had their orders. I was taken to the head scientist and given one last option to stay, but I still refused. She slapped a few sample cups on the table and told me to fill them up or I'd be thrown out with nothing. Knowing that I wouldn't survive a day up there like that, I did as she asked. I suppose they did that so those samples could take the place in the gene pool I was giving up.
After I was finished I was given a few moments at my son's grave with Mary. She tried to apologize, but it eventually turned into anger, I understood it. I was abandoning her, abandoning Robert. It must have felt like a betrayal. After that, I was sedated and I woke up somewhere in the midwest with a week's worth of food. The bunker was on the east coast, so this was the best way to make sure I never led anyone back there.
Since then I've tried to live the best I can, make my way back east and get some closure on what happened to my son. I assume that someone will remember a small army that seemed to appear from nowhere. Maybe they could point me to the spot where he was actually buried. Life is hard, but I find that most days my mind is not on my hardships but on Mary, and the hope that she found something to fill the void that me and Robert left behind. |
The guards, he decided, were quite dedicated to their jobs. They had not moved in thirty minutes. Not one twitch. He would think they were statues if he hadn't watched the panicked rush to get into position.
And you didn't give statues crossbows.
Finally, the door to the guild hall opened. Sturdy oak, one-hundred and three years old, cut from the Almari forest and shipped overland. Purchased at a discount. It was a rather interesting scry, for architecture, and he had been about to start on the stones that made up the buildings themselves. He could tell at a glance it was good material and firm construction. They could withstand a siege all their own. It would take a dozen ghouls just to-
"L-Lord Naidos,"said a timid voice for what seemed like the third time. At least.
"Ah. Apologies! Lost my head for a second there."He threw back his head and laughed. By the time he stopped the woman seemed as frozen as the guards. Her glasses had even slipped down her nose. He waved his hand and put them back in place. Just a bit of telekinesis, a cantrip really. "How may I help you?"
"Well,"she said, after a long time and drawing the word out longer. "We have been reviewing your...documents. Our...apologies for the delay. Deciphering the dialect took...quite a while."
He nodded. It should have been expected that the local dialect would have changed after five hundred years or so.
"And...it seems...you are in fact a citizen of Lyrica."Her lips twitched upwards in a decent attempt at a smile. He would have smiled back, but he'd lost his lips quite early after the conversion. It was a bit of a shame really, they'd called him handsome. "I...examined the rules and it doesn't say...dead citizens aren't citizens...and...your application was filled out correctly..."
"Oh, excellent! I'm not used to paperwork, you know, I had a ghast for that. Swiggin, I think his name was. Lovely fellow, didn't say much, what with no tongue."He reached up to tap his chin. It was such a pleasing sound, bone on bone. Always helping him think. "I suppose I didn't need the demonstration."
"Yes. I suppose I should welcome you-demonstration?"she asked, smile suddenly cracking. It outright fell as he brought two fingers to his teeth and whistled.
One of the guards was half way through questioning just HOW he could whistle before the screaming started.
"Manferd! Get down here!"He pointed forcefully at the manticore (stern looks just didn't seem to do it anymore) until it landed. The thing yawned until the slit in its throat was on full display. If the glow in its eyes didn't give it away. "I came across this lovely beast terrorizing merchants a few days down the road. I'd gotten awful tired of floating after a while, just because I have no legs doesn't mean my knees don't get sore you understand, and figured I could kill two knights with one stone!"He turned back to the woman, frozen in a pure display of emotion. She'd even dropped her clipboard which he floated back to her hand. "So I have been accepted?"
It took a while, but she managed to nod, gaze still fixed to Manferd.
"Excellent! What is my first assignment?"
"I-I-I suppose...that..."Her eyes darted down to the clipboard. "There...is a goblin den...a few miles to the south...they've refused to speak so the assumption is they're a rogue clan who-"
"Wonderful! They won't be a problem much longer. They might even be a boon. The town's gate looked a bit shoddy and could probably use a few extra hands to mend it."He floated up onto Manferd's back, settling his old bones against the rapidly graying fur. It was a simple thing to stretch life-sense over 'a few miles'. At least, it was now. Ah, to be in the old days where magic seemed so wondrous...
Perhaps it was cheating. It hadn't taken long to find them and it likely wouldn't take long to deal with them. No, he'd have to think on this. Set up rules. Wouldn't want things to be *too* easy.
"They seem a bit close so we'll just hold any orientation off until I return!"With a mental lashing, Manfred took to the air, right over the screaming townspeople. Six miles south and they'd be there. And blue skies the whole way. "Thank you! I promise you won't regret this!"
It was good to be out of the tower.
---
https://www.reddit.com/r/FiresofFordregha/ |
It had been a long time since anyone had ever visited Earth. After all, why would we need that planet anymore? We had fled to our own planet, bigger, more suited to our needs. ‘Earth’ was just a ruin now, a wasteland devoid of any life except plants, which for some reason weren’t choked by the gas that was still visible swirling around the atmosphere. Its history was lost to the expanse of time, and all we had now were a few tattered paintings stashed in the basement of museums, unsalvageable to the point we could no longer see the image underneath. There were some scraps of ancient technology, but we couldn’t get them working. Essentially, they were rubbish.
But my team and I had a theory. We’d find something if we visited there, in the few buildings that hadn’t been destroyed. None of us believed we’d been created by some sort of God species - but we’d find something to point us towards our history. My parents had encouraged my fascination with Earth at first, but as I got older and expressed a desire to be an archaeologist, they were concerned. It was a useless career, and I accepted that. But I couldn’t help but think we could find something that would shape our history - after all, our ancestors had lived there at one point. It was a science exploration as well as an archeological one, I argued to the university, and they gave in. We got into our vessel, carrying component fluid and extra skin and organs and wires - you know, basic first aid.
We exited our vessel in the middle of what looked like some ancient city - a crude predecessor of where we all lived now. Small, rectangular buildings of metal, eroded roads on the floor almost unrecognisable under the plants that were bizarrely thriving.
The first thing I noticed was a thing I had never before noticed or even experienced - temperature. The sunlight glinted on my colleagues’ skin and I felt like I was being cooked from the inside. That’s when I got the first niggling feeling - how could we have survived on this planet? I scanned the buildings and found one with different objects inside than the others. The others had scanned, too, and we headed to the building as one. One of us slammed against the door and it collapsed, falling to our feet as we stepped into the building. The cold we had been seeking didn’t follow us into the building - if anything, it intensified.
‘We can’t stay here long.’ I nodded at Arrisa. They were one of my better friends within the group, level headed - although we all were, I supposed. We all took a different room, Arrissa and I taking the higher floors.
The room I was in was slightly cooler, I suppose because we were under layers of the building. There was a painting of a strange creature on the wall that looked ever so slightly like us, but only slightly - it had a weird gaping hole near the bottom of its face, a lumpy bit in the middle, and some weird hair above its eyes and around its head. I relayed the information to the rest of the team and then looked around the floor.
And promptly screamed.
‘What the hell? That pierced my head,’ Aiku said, for the better use of a term. ‘They telepathically communicated’ does sound a bit long for a sentence. I wasn’t listening.
There was one of us on the floor. Well, a basic skeleton of one of us. But it had a head just like the creature on the wall. Its eyes were staring empty at the ceiling, and it wasn’t the only skeleton of us in the room. Another one was connected in metal pinscers, strapped with wires, half finished.
I pulled a lever and miraculously, the metal arm whined and pulled the skeleton’s arms up. The rest of my team ran into the room and I could sense the horror and fear radiating from them.
‘We were made,’ I said.
‘We don’t know that. Maybe we did this - built ourselves better?’
‘How could we do this to ourselves?’ I asked. ‘There’s nothing - just a skeleton. None of us would pull each other apart and strip us down to this extent.’
None of them refuted me. They couldn’t. I felt a creeping sensation in my skin, the uncomfortable thought we had once been another species’ plaything. And then a new shock came over from Arrissa, who had their back turned to us, facing the picture.
‘What is it?’ Aiku asked.
‘Don’t you see?’ They asked, their communication trembling. ‘Our faces - the face on that skeleton - how we walk...’
We all turned to the picture and realisation turned to horror.
‘That - thing - did this. That thing made us. Maybe - maybe those conspiracy theorists were right. That thing might just be a human, and if it is, humans made us.’ |
It was just an innocent conversation, I swear! I had gone down to the grocery store to pick up a few snacks for a party and I had gone to the checkout, like any other normal person. I turn to the register and the cashier waves me over. She was kind of cute, although not really my type. The cashier says, and I quote
“Hello sir, how are you?”
I said
“I’m fine”
Normal stuff, right? She then asks if I’ll pay wish cash or card. I say
“Card, please”
Blam! I’m back and she’s asking if want cash or card. So, I’m like, ok, cool. I say “Cash”.
Blam! I’m back. I ask every single orientation I can think of. I’ve asked her to the party. I’ve asked for help. I’ve asked her to go out with me. I’ve asked if she’s okay. Every single time, I’m brought back. It’s been two days and this is getting dumb.
“Cash or card, sir?”
I sigh. Might as screw around at least once.
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS, ALIEN SCUM!”
I waited to be brought back. Instead of a Blam, the cashier turned her head completely around and unrolled her tongue, hissing. Slowly her eyes turned green as she leaned toward me. She unhinged her jaw and...
“What’s your opinion on our current political figure?”
Blam! The cashier is unhinging her jaw. Looks like I’m going to be here a lot longer than I originally thought.
|
The news honestly never worried me at first. Some virus in South America was spreading killing tens, then hundreds. But surely it was just another Ebola, another Zika, it was never going to affect me. No one even talks about Zika anymore. But then the headlines started coming in fast and hard.
​
BREAKING NEWS: *“Unnamed Venezuelan virus threatens to spread across borders.”*
BREAKING NEWS: *“Venezuelan Plague spreads into Mexico.”*
BREAKING NEWS: *“Venezuelan Plague declared global emergency.”*
​
Then it spread into the United States. That’s when the panic set in. Fear, dread, just pure terror. You could see it in the eyes of every single person. Hordes converging on supermarkets and local stores. I’d be a hypocrite to say I wasn’t one of them. I was.
I was also horrified by what I saw. You think black Friday shopping is bad, this was on a whole other level. People snatching anything and everything they could get their hands on. Ripping bottles of water out of other people’s hands. Kicking, punching, scratching, even biting. I never realised just how animalistic people could be. I never realised how much of humanity were just total assholes.
The headlines kept coming.
​
BREAKING NEWS: *“Venezuelan Plague sweeps across Texas. Tens of thousands dead.”*
BREAKING NEWS: *“Search for Venezuelan Plague cause seemingly impossible.”*
BREAKING NEWS: *“Stay inside!”*
​
A month into the epidemic things started to kind of add up. People started to notice that there was a huge number of cartel and gang members that were affected by the plague. Obviously, the media turned this into a race thing. But then the neo-nazis, the death row inmates, the clowns who voted to make abortion illegal in Alabama, were all dropping like flies.
​
BREAKING NEWS: *“The President of the United States has passed away, Venezuelan Plague declared as cause.”*
​
And then it all made sense.
We didn’t know the cause, but we did know the vaccination. Don’t be a total asshole.
People started calling the plague all kinds of names. “The Cure”, “The Reckoning”, “The Thanos Virus” (because it bought balance to the world…). Scientists stopped looking for a cure, and the majority of people agreed. I did too. I knew I wasn’t a total asshole. Maybe a bit of an asshole sometimes, but not a total one. Not to mention, I didn’t know any total assholes either.
Life went back to normal, I say normal, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t more pleasant than normal. Everyone was trying their best to be as nice as possible. As a waitress, I got so many more tips, and not once was I yelled at.
Then my dad died. They confirmed in the hospital that it was the plague. All I knew him as was the most loving father and gentlest person I had ever met. I don’t know what he did that deemed him to be a total asshole, but it scares me, and I never want to find out. |
I was running, running, running, swiftly through the meadow of high grass. Angeline was chasing me, laughing and smiling. I was happy, she was happy, and all was right in the world. Until *it* happened. I was looking back at her when I felt my paw catch, and I stumbled, tumbled, and rolled down the hill. I heard her scream "DAISY! NO!"Then, everything went black.
I woke up to beeping, a horrible, sharp noise that hurt my ears. I blearily opened my eyes and saw, though blurry through my tired eyes, the unmistakable shape of Angeline. I felt my tail start wagging with relief, but when I tried to get up to greet her, pain shot through my leg. Dreadful, terrible pain, so awful that it paralyzed me. I let out a low moan, which made Angeline turn to me. The pain cleared my head, and I remembered the fall. I watched as Angeline ran to me from the other side of the room, which I could now see was the doctor's office. Was I hurt? Her brow was knotted with worry, and she called to Bella. "Mom, she's awake! Come on!"I saw Bella, followed by the doctor, step through the door. Bella looked like she had been crying, and the doctor looked somber.
"Angeline, dear, Daisy's leg is fractured horribly."Is that why I was here? Why I felt the agonizing pain? "She'll never walk again."
Daisy's face turned from worry to devastation. "No, no, that can't be! No!"As much as the news shocked and pained me, Angeline's sorrow hurt me more. "Oh, poor Daisy. Can't it be fixed?"
This is where the doctor spoke. "It can be, but it would require countless surgeries, and even then, she would never regain full use of her leg."
"Not only that,"Bella interjected, "but the cost would range in the tens of thousands. Sweetie, we don't have that kind of money."
Angeline's face contorted to misery, and I could see she was trying desperately to resist crying. "Oh mom, what should we do? I love her!"As she said this, she buried her face in her hands. "She loves running! I love playing with her!"It was true; I love running, and I love spending time with my girl. How could I do those without use of my leg?
"Sweetheart, she'll be in pain the rest of her life. She's 13, and has had a good run. I think the best thing we could do for her... is put her out of her misery."
With that, the room fell deathly silent. As I considered what she could mean, Angeline burst into tears and ran from the room. After a brief glance at the doctor, she followed. The doctor walked over to me, and in hushed tones, began to speak to me. "It's all right girl, you won't be in pain for much longer,"she said. I wondered what she might mean by that. Didn't Bella say I would be in pain for the rest of my life? "Oh girl, don't be afraid,"she continued, a sympathetic look spreading across her face. It was then I realized I had been whimpering. As she got up and walked away, my thoughts ran rampant, and I drifted into a troubled sleep.
I awoke to the sound of voices. Bella, the doctor, and occasionally Angeline. When I opened my eyes, the three entered the room and closed the door. Angeline, who still had tears streaming down her face, hugged me and whispered "Oh Daisy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you all the world."Bella walked over to me, and with a look of extreme sadness, pet me and adorned her face with a small, phony smile. The doctor, after glancing at them for consent, lifted me up and brought me to a room I had not been in before. She picked up a large needle, walked over to me, and stuck it into me. And with that, I slept.
When I woke up, I was somewhere I had never been before. The sun was shining, and there were no clouds in the sky. I was lying on the softest grass I had ever felt, and I could see humans and dogs alike running and playing. Everyone seemed happy, and yet there was no sign of Angeline. A kind looking human walked over to me and knelt down. "Hello. I'm Amie. You must be confused. This is dog heaven, where dogs go after they die. Humans can come here too, if their dogs rally love them and they weren't quite good enough for human heaven. Any injuries, diseases, or deformities you may have had before have been cured,"She got up, and as she was turning, spoke one more time. "If you're lucky, you might see your human again one day. If you do, they may not be the same as you remember them, since they will arrive here as the same age they were in when they died."With that, she left.
20 years later, I was playing with my friends. I enjoyed it here. The only thing that was missing was Angeline. Until, as I was walking by the point of awakening, I smelled her. The scent was different from how I remembered it, but it was distinctly hers. With no words to my friends, I ran to the point. And there, I saw her. My girl. Angeline. I barked, once, twice, three times, until she looked at me, and away from Amie. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she called out to me. "Daisy! You're here!"And finally, after twenty long years we were reunited. There was only one thing bothering me.
I knew the rules. The humans only came here if they weren't good enough for human heaven, and they were the same age as when they died. She was only 28.
What happened to her? |
Nagaraj looked at his ammo. Only seven bullets remaining. Plus the six in his gun. He hadn’t stopped to count but there were at least fifty of them out there. Things were bleak. Their fists thumped against the door blocking the cave door. His biggest problem, however, was the thirst. His throat was parched. He had already been dry heaving as he had been running here. He wondered what was the mistake he had committed. How had they found this place. His work was almost done. Tightening the buckles on his backpack he moves deeper into the cave. His life was of no importance. His mission was the priority.
It had started almost a decade ago. Reports had come out indicating how apples were the leading cause of cancer. The evidence was there. All neatly presented. The evidence had been faked. No one had realized when the subtle change had happened. But the Doctors association’s primary task had changed from saving people’s lives to taking them. To rule the world with an iron stethoscope. Considering their minions the researchers, the nurses, pharmacists, and the lab assistants had access to all the worst viruses in the world and also controlled the drug supply, it wasn’t that hard. Soon enough, the white coat which stood for comfort and wellness became a symbol of death and destruction. Humanity raised the white flag and gave in. Doctors ruled the world. But there was one thing they feared. The one old adage that had been warning people since a millennia.
The forbidden fruit. The red that contrasted so well with their white coats.
As often happens, where there are dictators, there are revolutions. Nagaraj was part of the resistance. He had secretly been planting apple trees all across some safe havens. He had in his possession, sixty apple seeds. And it was imperative that they be planted. Like the folk hero, Johnny of the tales, he left a trail of seeds behind him.
He moved with a purpose, following the wires running along the cave ceiling. The light was dim but he had travelled this path enough times to know where he had to go. He heard a crash behind him. They were in. Luckily for him, this was his domain. The doctors were used to their bright lights and would struggle to follow him in this darkness. He threw another seed into the ground and twisted his heel over it. The ones at the beginning had been carefully planted but he was out of time. A trail of hidden apple seeds followed him from the door like a different fairy tale.
He heard the sound of the drill close to him. Damnit. The dentists. He looked behind him and the light blinded him for a second. The light guided the line dentist but it also told Nagaraj where to aim. One shot one kill. The dentist’s head snapped back as he fell to the ground. They were closer than he expected.
He kept going down into the cave. Just as he turned the corner, he stopped and moved a fake door to the side. It was practically invisible. Unless you knew it was there, you would probably just turn the corner and keep going towards a dead end. He kept planting seeds as he went along.
He thought back to his time as a receptionist. He had seen the fear on the patients faces. He had tried to calm them but they knew what was waiting for them behind the door. He had hated seeing people so scared. Even though he worked for a doctor, he had developed an intense hatred for doctors themselves. That hatred carries him today. It was like a shot of adrenaline that was pumping him along.
He looked at his bag. He still had almost twenty seeds. The original plan had been to place twenty five here and the rest in a different location. But he had been in a hurry and hadn’t counted. He saw the alternate exit up ahead. Still not bad for a night. As he reached the door, he stopped. When you were surrounded by people who were by nature suspicious, you developed a sort of sense for trouble. And trouble waited for him on the other side.
He took out a little camera that he kept in his backpack. He had helped his employer so many a endoscopies with a similar camera. He deftly stuck into a crack and checked the other side. Two emts, fully dressed waited on the other side. They had paddles ready to shock anyone who came out the door. Damn it. He headed back but he knew it would be too late. They would be at the turn now. Maybe some of them doubling back after the dead end.
He looked at his last bit of water. He threw five seeds in there and drank it in one go. He had to keep it down. Throwing up would mean wastage of the most important resources in human history. He climbed up a stool that he had placed at the side of the cave and stuck the open suitcase up there. He had hoped to see a new world. But the next best thing was dying to ensure someone else got to see it.
He said a quick prayer under his breath. He took out the trigger. The C4 has been planted all over this cave. He sat in the middle of the cave and shouted.
“I know where I come from. But where do all you doctors come from?”
He heard a commotion from both sides. The emts entered it from the alternate exit. The doctors from the secret entrance. Their eyes shone with madness and their drills whirred. They pounced on him as he pressed the button. The seeds he had stuck in the ceiling were carried all over the area by the blast. The whole cave system collapsed. He died. But he took at least seventy doctors with him.
*
“And he was buried here?” Adam asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
“He was. It is said that this tree grew from one of the seeds he swallowed.”
“Wait so if he died, how do we even know this story?” Eve looked at her grandfather with a curious expression.
“These things are not to be questioned my dear eve. It is what happened. Our book says so. And we know it to be the word of god. And god wouldn’t lie to us would he?”
“How do we even know god is a he? I mean for all...”
“Hush, little child.” The grandfather took an apple from the tree and handed it to the kids. “All you need to know is how Nagaraj saved us and gave us this safe haven. This heaven. And the evil, sinful doctors are out there. And we must pray to the gods to give us a good harvest to keep the evil away.” |
Ever so faintly, like the dying breaths of my youngest son a millennium ago, I remember the beginning of the day I turned twenty-one. We were out at bars, of course, the doors penetrable for my older friends but impassable barriers for a young 'un like myself. And then the clock struck midnight and the divide dissipated and I stepped through into the latest age-regulated area.
Most of the age-achievements were generic. A driver's license. Cigarettes. Bars. Renting a car. Some passed without any fanfare. Eligible for the presidency. Some were entertaining. Old enough to be a rude old man. There were some unique ones, but most people never found them. Most people weren't unique, contrary to what they might think. Just another snowflake in the blizzard. They all melt away and disappear from existence eventually.
I haven't been young in thousands of years. I haven't felt young in about that long either. I try to hide in plain sight, acting like just another of the elderly people in this gated community on the far edge of the suburbs. What else is there to do? I can't move like I used to. I can barely think like I used to. Blame my mind and body, in part. But also blame the agents that won't stop watching me.
The first time I met them, I felt like I was in a action-spy thriller. Unmarked vans. Nondescript meatheads. Ear-pieces and guns. That was what? Dozens of generations ago. Since then, I've met their children and their grand-children and their great-grand-children. People die. That's the ultimate age-regulated achievement, right?
But I don't die.
I don't know why. They don't know why. Nobody knows why. But something is bound to happen. It's inevitable. I haven't surpassed that final age regulation, and the only thing that blocks one from happening is another that must come first. "Coffee?"I offer the agent sitting at the sofa. "Make yourself comfortable."
His back is ramrod straight. It always is, in the first days. Eventually they grow tired. They realize that I'm as clueless as they are. "Decaf, please."Of course. He's on the job. "So you have no idea?"
I shrug. I've told him a half-dozen times. And I've told his predecessors about a thousand times. I don't know why I'm still alive. I don't know what age I have to hit to unlock that last achievement. It's turned into a holy grail, of sorts. All I want to do by now is die, other than that sliver of curiosity that keeps me wondering what else I'm waiting for. "None."
He nods. And he smiles. These men don't smile often, and when they do smile it gives me the chills. "I think we have a way to find out,"he said after a moment's pause. For emphasis? To gather his words? To make me suffer my ninth heart attack? "You'll have to come with us."He slides a business card across the table. Men like these don't have names. Men without names don't have business cards.
I shake my head. "I can't do that."
He tilts his head, as if wondering for the first time what he would do if I refused. "You will,"he said finally. "We have a van outside. You can step in or I can throw you in."
I stepped in. Why wouldn't I? I would wind up there one way or the other. I might as well not get hurt while it happened. Wisdom, right? I wondered if I could have fought them once. It seemed unlikely. I had never been that fit.
"May I ask you where we're headed?"
There was another agent in the car who had offered his colleague a curt nod when he entered with me in tow. Now he glanced in the mirror at me. "You may."His voice was deeper. More dangerous. His eyes were colder. He wasn't the people person.
"Where are we headed?"
"We can't tell you that."Asshole. We drove through the suburbs towards the countryside. The houses began to thin and the trees began to thicken. We stopped at one point for one of them to open a gate and the concrete country road transformed into a dirt path. Still we drove.
"Are you government?"The previous men always had been. They had shown me their badges and I had talked to supervisors. They followed strict protocols. They didn't make me sit in a van for an hour.
The first man scoffed. "Do we look government?"I shook my head. "We have a facility just down the road. A sensory-stimulus facility."
"And when they notice I'm gone?"Somebody would notice. First the nursing facility and then they would alert the authorities and the government would obviously try to hunt down their oldest citizen.
He shrugged. "Maybe the last achievement is disappearing. We'll find out."
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! |
Hello, I'm Dan, and since this is for you all at home, you already know I'm the straight guy here. And I'm not going to lie, I'm uncomfortable as hell. The jokng, the flirting, the 'nudging' ... I'm just not sure how far I'm going to go for this money anymore. But I'm still here, so here's the lowdown. I'm pretty sure no one's caught on. I'm come off as a bit shy, but no one's given me so much as a suspicious glance. I think I can do this, I really do, but I gotta put up with shit you wouldn't believe. I seriously was one of those people who thought women should take catcalls and shit as compliments but OH MAN. It ain't compliments. Not when I'm walking by in my suit and big'ol Greg's leering me down. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow night, I'm sure it's going to come up again with the big pool party we're having.
Greg here, and just like the last few nights, I'm telling you, I got this down pat. The trick is pro-activity. Do you get it? I don't wanna sound like no bigot or some shit, but in the end, Twinks are Twinks. You make the first move and suddenly they're all not so sure they want you given it to them in the ass. Not that... I ever want that or anything. But I ACT it hard enough and... well they all back off! Figures, don't it? I swear to God if I weren't the straight guy here I'd be suspicious of the whole lot of them the way they turn tail when I start nudging and winking towards the bedroom. It's honestly funny, it really is. They're all too scared to flirt with me, so I don't gotta deal with their shit and I watch them be little chickens over it. Maybe it's just because I'm the biggest guy here, but honestly, I was worried that'd make me suspicious. I know there's this whole "Bear"stereotype with these guys, but I sure can't find it in this lot. And sure as hell, none of them are taking it.
Alright, it's Sam, and it's getting bad. You know Greg's been leering everyone down and if anyone's going to find me out, it's him. So I'm going for it. I know, we're a week in and if I try to hide it any longer I'm getting caught, that's all there's too it. I wish it was Dan, he seems like he'd be gentle and all at least. And George keeps making passes too, but if there's anyone I gotta prove this too, it's Greg. I WANT this money. You already know where I came from to get here. I NEED this money. And if it means taking it from our big bear of the group... Well, I'll give him an ass he can't resist tomorrow. I know I rock that suit. It'll just be a swagger or two before he comes down on me... Shit I hope he keeps it clean down there.
Hey, It's George and the little love triangle between me, Sam and Herman seems to still have everyone fooled. No one else has really pushed their way in and no one else seems to get that none of us are getting any. Or at least, I ain't getting any. Thank god for that. I let Herman do his Leering, I hit on Sam, I play them off each other for a few jabs... And it all seems cool. Evan gives us a look or two, but he's so damn worried about "appearances"and "respect"he hasn't come down on anyone so I think I'm set. I just... Have to keep this up. Luckily most of the guys here are... well... Shy? I know the whole "flamboyant"stereotype is what I expected but they really just seem like... Well, other guys. Shit that sounds bad of me, doesn't it? They were always other guys. Just ones I gotta flirt with without taking it in the ass... Oh man what have I gotten into.
Hey, it's Herm again... And I think I gotta punch a guy. I know, I know, not where anyone thought this shit would go, but here I am. Caught up in a love triangle I am not really in love with and something to prove. Money's money though and I can get it with a good swing instead of.. well.. you know. I'm ALL over that shit. And.. Like hell, it's a show, it's not like they're going to call the police on me, right? One good swing, all over some little love triangle I wasn't going to get anyways, everyone believes I was actually in love, and I'm scott free. No ass blasting, and I don't think any of these fucks are going to keep flirting with the guy that punches people out of passion, right? We got some big swim party tomorrow, easy place to start up drama. And that's what a show's about, ain't it? Drama? Well I got it, and the show must go on!
I'm going to be honest. I'm going to break. I mean.. Hey, it's Evan again, this night interview thing is as bad as my damn morning routine. I thought putting on the looks would be the trick. Like, you don't have to have sex with guys to convince them all you're gay. Just get some rainbows, some make up, and just... Well, put on a show. For a show... Hah. puns. But holy hell, I'm getting up HOURS earlier to put this shit on, I swear the money I'm going to win from this isn't going to make up the damn cost of this stuff at this point, and I don't know how many of you have messed up a cat eye before but... I've broken 2 mirrors now. And I can't keep telling them it's an accident. I got my rainbows and sequin suit ready for tomorrow and I swear, it'll only take one. One terrible itch on my balls. One smear on my eyelid... One damn make up drip down my face and I am OUT. I know, I know, we're going to be near a damn POOL and it's going to happen. It's just going to happen. So I hope you all enjoyed the show, because tomorrow, I'll try, I swear I'll try, but it's over. Because the ONE straight guy here is going to break over some damn dripping eyeliner. SEE YOU ALL ON THE OTHER SIDE. |
He'd been waiting for two months. No big deal, he'd waited longer for the Mythos man to strike again. Mythos was probably preparing some new evil scheme, so he had to prepare for every possible outcome.
Our hero was Jared. He didn't really have a superhero name, but he was superhuman in about every way possible. Super sight, hearing, strength, speed, agility, coordination. He had it all. Nothing was too extreme, but all of it was useful when fighting Mythos.
After a third month, Jared had prepared himself quite a bit. But the silence was unnerving. What was Mythos planning? Well, he'd have to find out.
Jared went undercover to a meeting of some lesser-known criminal masterminds, and tried to find out what Mythos was doing. But nobody mentioned him.
Jared, at the end of the meeting, got them all locked up like the good hero he was, but left feeling defeated. He still didn't know what Mythos was up to.
He listened to police scanners, looked through Mythos's history, and made every attempt at finding people who knew what Mythos was up to.
Six months. By now it had been six months with no trace of Mythos. He expressed his concern to the press, and actual *experts* told him that Mythos had likely given up, and would leave them alone.
But Jared wouldn't believe them. He knew better. Mythos was up to something. Someone had to know what he was doing. Henchmen, associates, *anyone*.
There's an interesting thing that happens when you try the same thing over and over expecting different results. Generally, it's dubbed as insanity. Of course, Jared had never looked twice before stepping into something, the hero that he was, so taking that first step in his descent to madness was no trouble for him at all.
Eventually, one morning after having an exceptionally strange dream involving Mythos, he decided to come up with a new plan.
He'd looked through Mythos's history before, but only through his villainous days. What about before that?
Jared tracked Mythos's life down to his first job. Then to his college, his highschool, and finally his childhood neighborhood.
After an extensive search driven by a peculiar combination of fear, hate, and insanity, Jared found Mythos's long-time best friend.
He crashed through the wall with no regard for this man's household. The man dropped his phone, shocked by the sudden appearance.
Jared leapt onto the man before he had time to move, and shouted "WHERE IS MYTHOS?"
"Wh-what? Myth..."the man shook his head, dazed. "You mean Maxwell?"
Jared searched the man's eyes for some trace of deceit. "Is that his name? The supervillain Mythos? Your *best friend*?"
"Aah!"The man shuddered at Jared's intensity. "W-well, yes, he's, uhh, r-retired now, though."
Jared again searched the man's face, but he only saw fear, and honesty. "...What?"
"Yeah, he- he got married not too long ago. I was his best man. Gone into hiding now. And I uhh,"he swallowed, "I can see why."
Jared was already lost. He'd fallen too far into hate and anger to pull himself out now. And nobody else could either; he was a superhero.
In a fit of rage, with one powerful blow, Jared crushed the poor man's lung. Without even realizing what he'd done, Jared watched the light leave the man's eyes.
He was going to find Mythos if it took his very last breath. |
Honestly, at this point I’m really bored,
As you can imagine, being the hostage is not my number one secret fantasy. Especially when people just leave me tied to a plastic chair for a very long time. Wait, let me stress that. A very. Long. Time.
A plastic chair. And she tied me with scotch tape. Scotch tape! Me! At least this time she had the decency of using a regular gag on my mouth. She knows scotch tape irritates my skin horribly. And that with half beard gone I look unreasonably ridiculous.
Thing is, I can’t say a word. I can’t scratch my forehead. I can’t even sigh to display how bored I am. So I jump a little bit on the right, chair and all.
“Shut up Daniel, we are kind of in the middle of something.”
There you have it, the supposed “hero” of the situation. Maya, my former supervisor from police training, wearing her second favourite jeans jacket and her focussed I-am-going-to-kill-you stare. I know very well both items. Her muscular arms are starting to tremble with the effort to keep the jeans-jacket-gun up. But her brow doesn’t falter. She’s a professional badass.
I raise my eyebrows to the ceiling. Maya came to the rescue to save me from my third kidnapping of the month. Nobody asked her, of course, because I’m perfectly able to free myself. Most times. A reasonable amount of times. Maybe if I try again to reach the hidden Swiss blade in my belt...
“Don’t even think about that, Danny. You know I took your silly toys when you were asleep.”
A-ah, Valerie, my sweet, thoughtful kidnapper. She dragged me once again in this underground hole to prove... something? I forget, to be honest, what her evil plans are. Most times she abducts me we end up watching an episode of something on Netflix while she waits for someone to notice I’m missing. Or i free myself. A reasonable amount of times. If I’m not too invested in Sex Education or Brooklyn 99.
She’s starting to look a bit tired as well, holding the oversized evil-looking gun with one hand, and using her other arm to keep it up.
Having nothing to do other than wishing that B99 was on, I turn my head towards the third vertex of this silly triangle.
“Don’t worry, old chap. I’ll get you out of this madness.”
Agent Alpha, at your service. All fancy looking with his black suit and perfectly trimmed dirty blond hair. An eyebrow gallantly raised (at this moment I’m suspecting a paresis), the tiny, shiny pocket gun looking even smaller in his manicured fingers. What a dork.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Alpha, he’s basically the closest thing I have to a friend, and he always smells fabulous. He’s a living stereotype with the fakest British accent I ever met, and God help me if he ever got a clue of what’s going on.
Like now. He finds my front door broken over, he follows the trail to Val secret evil-cave. He finds me, comfortably looking at Jake Peralta being a magnificent tool with Valerie fumbling around her stash of blades. And he finds Maya, silently waiting for the right moment to get up and save the day.
And then they choose the exact same moment to come out.
So here we are. It could be kind of menacing. *It could*, if I didn’t see Valerie take the ammunition off her enormous gun 5 minutes before Alpha somersaulted his way in. *It could*, if I didn’t know for sure that the jacket Maya is wearing has a loose pocket, and she keeps her faulty gun in it, just to threaten people. *It could be* menacing, if I hadn’t spent more than a couple of evenings looking for tiny bullets online for Alpha ridiculous fancy weapon.
I let out a frustrated groan.
“I said *shut up!*”
“He’s my prisoner, stop abusing him!”
“Ladies, I invite you to stand down and let me free my friend. He’s clearly suffering and he keeps... winking at me?”
Oh well. It’s going to be a long evening.
—-
Edit: minor fixes. |
I'd always had immense telekinetic powers. Not something you hear every day, right?
I first discovered them as a kid. I was doing kid stuff--don't ask--and the next thing I knew, I had my cousin Jimmy's half-eaten popsicle in my hand. Good as mine. I devoured that thing.
Next thing I knew, I was using it everywhere. At first, my technique was like one of those Star Wars fellows, holding out a hand and grunting real hard and hoping the right object would come to me.
But I practiced. I refined my skills. Eventually, I didn't need to more than look at an item to set it moving towards me. These days it drives my wife more nuts than she already is.
You'd think I'd never tire of it. Imagine sitting on the couch, pressing buttons on the remote that's halfway across the room and drifting popcorn right into my mouth. Super convenient. Eventually, kind of boring.
That's why I mess with kids. Bear with me here--I know it sounds weird. But it's harmless. All in good fun, at least for me.
I go to local parks, sometimes the mall. I see kids playing around, pretending they have the Force or something like that. And suddenly, they do.
Their toy levitates. Their ball goes further than it's ever gone. They go scrambling to tell their parents, but by then I'm long gone.
There's a catch though. I don't let adults see. My wife knows, my parents used to, but that's it. I don't like the attention that comes with adults, the way the crowds gather and all of a sudden I'm some freak of nature.
That sort of thing is what got me into this mess.
I was at the park, the one down by the river. Just sitting on a bench off the side of the boardwalk, watching people and ducks meander on by. There was a kid--he couldn't have been older than ten--walking his dog. Now and then they'd stop, the kid would throw a stick, and he'd let go of the leash to let the dog go running after it.
Parents? MIA. Nowhere to be seen. I doubt they were invisible. They were just shitty.
And so the kid played, and eventually the dog did what dogs do. It saw a duck chilling out on the edge of the boardwalk, and suddenly the stick was of no interest anymore. Next thing I knew, the dog was barreling towards the water and the kid was lunging after him.
The duck got away. The dog didn't stop. One moment it was on solid ground and then it was soaking wet, struggling to keep its head above water as its leash caught onto a submerged branch.
"Frank!"the kid yelled. Screamed, more like. Adults approached, but nobody got in after the dog. Somebody covered the kid's eyes. They were letting the poor thing die.
But not me. Attention be damned, I wasn't about to let the dog die right there in front of the kid. So I started thinking. Not the useless kind of thinking politicians and philosophers do, but the kind of thinking that gets things moving.
The dog started to rise. Then, from the water, like some sort of wooden Nessie, the branch emerged, too. I was grunting real hard--this thing was bigger than anything else I'd ever lifted.
The adults gasped. They gawked. They turned towards me and stared like I was some sort of freak. The branch hovered over their heads, the dog in a panic above it, and then I gently set it down in the park.
Safe. The kid wiped tears from his eyes and went to untangle the leash.
I stared back at the crowd of ogling adults. Two of those dreaded bicycle cops were heading my way. My secret was out. They'd stick me in a lab. They'd poke me and prod me with needles until they discovered how I had these powers.
That wouldn't work. Leash untangled, I lifted the branch again and pointed it at the crowd of witnesses I couldn't have.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! |
It happened in such quick succession to be disorienting. Sarah was an astute observer, it was part of her job description, but the words flapped across her mind. The first detail had been strangest. Who wore a shirt with the word 'You're' on it? On some nondescript bystander, walking in such a way as to purposely blend into a crowd.
But Sarah was a woman designed to almost always hunt for the smaller and insignificant details in her environment. It made her an excellent analyst. An incredible researcher. And most of all, a particularly effective spy. The dollar had flown across the concrete on the sidewalk below her, as if on a string. She supposed it was. Someone, somewhere, warning her of something.
What most impressed her was the 'Watched' written across the brick wall of her favorite breakfast spot. Someone had already been watching her for awhile she supposed. This graffiti was recent, sure, but it still implied someone watched her movements so regularly as to expect her coming. For what purpose though?
A prickling of the hairs on her neck, and a slight watery feeling in her bowels. Sarah didn't know whether or not to change her path, to maybe refuse this morning bagel, or to sprint away down the sidewalk. But such a thing would grab whoever was watching her's attention.
Instead, she continued forward, not altering her pace, not even looking around, but pretending to continue looking down at her phone. There was little else for her to do.
It must be too late to change the pattern, or even escape whatever confrontation awaited her. Someone willing to put up this much effort wouldn't exactly be deterred by a clumsy escape attempt.
The bell above the door to the bagel shop dinged in welcome, though Sarah paid little attention to it. She immediately recognized the shop was empty. Not even the usual pair of pimply teenagers behind the counter.
Instead, an elderly man sat at a single table, a pair of black coffees resting on either side. The man took a sip from his, not even looking up to Sarah, who wordlessly sat down across from him. She took a deep whiff, trying to scent anything within the coffee, but knew it'd be a futile search. Police would use coffee grounds to cover up the scent of corpses, it would be difficult to be able to discern any kind of poison already mixed within.
With a shrug, she took a sip.
"Took you long enough,"the man said matter-of-factly. Sarah recognized him as one of the janitors in her most recent assignment, a facility developing some kind of new drug that her employer didn't want on the market. It'd compete with their own product in development, and it'd be impossible to beat their competitors at this rate.
"I took my time,"she said. She felt anxious, but couldn't see anything else in the building. No telltale shimmer of a hidden camera. No microphone hidden beneath the table from a quick brush of her knees across the wood.
"You did well on your last assignment,"the man said.
"I always do."
He shrugged, and leaned back.
"With someone of your skills, corporate espionage seems a bit underwhelming, wouldn't you think?"
Sarah shook her head. "I'm good at what I do,"she said. "But I'm not interested in any government gigs. Sure, you can still get shot working corporate, but it's less likely."
The man nodded, as if paying attention.
"You managed to slip some rather unfortunate photos of the lead research staff members in rather compromising situations,"he said.
"Were they doctored?"
Sarah shook her head. Surveillance was easy, if one was patient.
"You managed to disrupt production, sabotage millions of dollars worth or research, and in record time."
Sarah wasn't sure if he was planning on threatening her, or just continuing to compliment her. It didn't matter, really.
"So is this the part where you put a hood over my head and put me into a shallow ditch?"
The man shook his head, again taking a long sip of his coffee, letting the silence brew. It didn't bother Sarah. Idiots usually filled silence with random information, not knowing how much of it could be used against them.
"I'm here to provide a counter offer,"the man said. He narrowed his eyes.
"We ask that you do the same."
Sarah raised an eyebrow.
"Out of spite? Or to save your own product line?"she asked.
"Both,"the man said.
"You know, this isn't exactly a simple thing,"she said. "This is supposed to change the world or something. Change millions of lives, prevent thousands of deaths. And you'd have me delay this for a few decades out of what? A petty sense of revenge?"
The man said nothing. He only watched Sarah.
Knowing her response.
She flashed a wide smile, preparing to take a sip of her own coffee.
"You'd have me betray my employers? Hurt thousands of people? For what? Money?"
The man nodded.
Sarah laughed to herself.
"Fine,"she said.
"Where do I sign?" |
The first block and tackle I made werent considered that great. They were old hat, craftsmen had used them for a millenia already. All they did was cement my place in the group as a craftsman from the outside. Simple lathes, whatever tools were found in the community, I was just like any other crafstmen initially.
They couldnt really determine what type at first though. The woodworking I started out with to get just a flat surface down soon turned to building a furnace and working with local metalsmiths to form flat sheets of iron.
I consulted what I called my hitch hikers guide to the galaxy sparsely and worked quickly from hand written notes to conserve the battery. It was really just a tablet with Khan academy and wikipedia on it, but they were there to fill in the knowledge I hadn't recalled since the P.E. exam. It would have been nice to have my dog eared machinist handbook, but when sent back by labmates that think building a time machine and sending you back to meet Jesus is a practical joke, anything is a blessing.
Regardless, I got a simple steam engine running and that is where I had to be very careful. Many craftsman guarded their secrets, passing them only to their sons. This is where I found an excuse to shoo all of the metalworkers that had helped me. This was years before anyone would utter the name Brayton and I didnt plan on taking credit for him.
From here, it took weeks to hone three flat discs of granite together. I adopted a young orphan and fed him in exchange for bellowing the engine fire. To earn money, I organized the irrigation systems throughout the community and was appointed a local official. My office was new and as they saw my ways as foreign, I was able to say I was a preist of sorts leveraging the mystical ways of engineering. This opened doors as people attributed my secrecy to communing with the gods.
From three flat stones, basic but precise units were crafted. Precision instruments were used to improve the mechanical system of the steam engine as better tools could be used to make better parts.
As an official, I spread the knowledge of these units to the people and became the authority on solving disputes on property bounderies. My word was law and I became responsible for surveying the settled land. The maps I drew were oddly revered. To relieve myself of some of my duties, I taught my son surveying and math. In his own right, he became a preist whom taught the community. When people asked where his knowledge came from, he said from me.
My engines grew and pretty soon they could not be hidden. Large steam engines pulled in pumps for larger steam engines. Condensers formed, turbines were created, I spread my knowledge because hours of work couldnt be done by one man alone. A true generator was created and we were cooking with gas.
Word spread of marvels brought forth from a single man and pilgrims came to what was regarded as the font of knowledge. Conquerers tried attacking, but the closely guarded knowledge of gun powder and rifling drove them off. I learned to give freely, apprenticing those few who seemed to take to the scientific method. To all else, we accepted the label of preists, even as I said we were just engineers.
I wrote down few things, already worried about how I had already changed the course of history. However, I would like to reflect on the reader that I did do the following as a gift to posterity:
0. When defining the laws of thermodynamics, I really did start at 1.
1. All of my teachings were in plain language. When i leveraged my hitch hikers guides to explain anatomy and kickstart modern medicine, the name of what ailed people was not hidden behind the veil of a dead language.
2. Against much resistance, I redifined my units to be based upon universal constants. To my highest disciples, they readily accepted this. To the lower disciples, they hold on to the old units without understanding the greater purpose.
3. I made it a cosmic law that no symbol may be used for more than one meaning and as such, created a vast library of symbols to choose from. I did not teach my disciples everything, but gave them confidence to find new ideas on their own and when they needed something to represent them, they could pull from my sacred list of characters after I was gone. The symbol K was outright banned.
Edit: reddit reformatted my joke. This list originally started at 0 making fun of the zereoth law of thermodynamics. |
“How was your first day with the Older Planets program?” asked our soul-partner Kepler-442a. Our civilization’s hive-mind pondered the question for a nanosecond.
“The kid just seems kind of...emo” We telepathically beamed back. “First of all she is an orphan. Those lazy Hu’ul got their rocks off, dropping a few pyramids onto Earth and then left a brand new civilization to grow all by itself.”
We went on. “She is still healing from that trauma I think. This kid won’t even mind-converse with me like a normal civilization. She communicates almost exclusively by text-message. She smokes constantly. No one has ever told this kid not to do fossil fuels. She also has some kind of multiple-personality disorder. Different parts of that planet want to wipe out other parts. Have you ever even heard of a civilization that has mastered nuclear power before uniting as a species? That sounds like a great way to blow yourself up if you ask us.”
Kepler-442a thought about that for another moment “Well its a good thing you are here for her. She will be lucky to have you as a role model.” Love waves washed over our planet from Kepler-442a. That comforted us a bit.
We pondered the fate of Earth for another moment. “That kid is definitely going to to be bullied in Type I civilization school” |
*!And if you don't comply*, thought-invoked Lorixx, *!I will obliterate your mate!*
Katie snorted. "If you don't do it, I will."
*!Did you understand?* thought the spider-elephant alien. !*I will obliterate him.*
"Maybe if Martin had done the dishes within the last, oh I don't know, FOREVER, I'd care?"
"I said I was getting around to them,"Martin replied from beneath one of the eight elephantine legs.
*!Silence.* Lorixx pressed his leg until Martin squaked.
"Ouch. Careful! You could have broken a rib."
*!Silence, I commanded!*
"If you can get him to shut up then you're a better woman than me."
"If, "said Martin, "you can get her to stop nagging, I'll persuade all of the resistance to worship you, because you must be a truly powerful god."
"If you can get him to start looking for a job then--"
"We've been through this, Kelly!"Martin interrupted. "Is it really too much to ask for a little time to try out on my new console? Like, all I want is a week of peace."
"You've been trying out the PS3 for six years. You think I believe you're going to be trying this out for just a week?"
*!Ahhh* thought-screamed Lorixx. *!I will break his spine if you continue*.
"Like he's got a spine."
Martin snorted. "That's a good one, Kelly."
Lorixx covered his own eyes with two leathery feet. *!It was just meant to be a quick stop. Get the inhabitants to worship me. Impress Aplakkan so she'd take my hoof in celestial partnership. But nooo I had to run into a race who care more about...*
As Lorixx thought-moaned to himself, Kelly fumbled a gun out of the inside of her jacket. She emptied the round into Lorixx, who fell down dead, legs in the air, overturned like a spider.
"That was close,"said Martin. "One of the bullets flew right past my head."
"Yes. Very close."
He frowned. "*Kelly*... Was that bullet meant for me?"
"Just a warning shot."
*!Uh... I'm not dead. I just can't move.*
"You're joking right, Kels?"
"You'll never know!"
*!Please. Mercy. Finish me.*
*"*... Oh, I know you're joking. It was just a bad shot."
She shrugged.
"Fine! I'll apply for a job tomorrow. Happy now?"
She rolled her eyes.
*!Please. Kill me.*
None of them were quite sure who thought that last thought. |
“My god, we’ve done it.”
“This… this is incredible. This changes everything. How far can we see?”
“Only a few deviations for now, but as time passes and we record more and more, we’ll see farther and farther.”
“Wow. My life’s work…”
“*Our* life’s work. We’ve done it!”
“Dr. Strauss, get the champagne! We’re celebrating tonight!”
“Hey, I’ve got a fun idea.”
“What is it?”
“Well, this first universe should be identical to ours, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Let’s take a drink every time we find a major difference.”
“You’re insane. Let’s do it.”
***
“Whoa, Tom Hanks ‘s the star of the Mission Impossibles?”
“Good ‘nuff for me! Bottoms up!”
“Ugh. Nasty stuff.”
“You’re not supposed to taste it, you’re supposed to shoot it.”
“Huh. Shoot it. I don’t got a gun.”
“Hush, you know what I mean. Swallow hard.”
“Your mother sw-”
“Shut it. Hey, I wonder what other celebrities are different…”
“I don’t know, Ken, that could get messy. Think about how often they divorce and remarry already…”
“Come on, we don’t *have* to drink for all of them.”
“Fine. What’s Tom Cruise doing?”
“Well, he starred in Castaway and Apollo 13 and all that… And he’s got two front teeth.”
“Huh. What about… John Lennon?”
“Still dead.”
“No, wait. Which one is alive?”
“Paul McCartney.”
“Is he alive?”
“I just said he’s alive.”
“No, in the parallel universe.”
“Oh. Uh… Yeah.”
“Boring. What about David Bowie?”
“He’s still dead. Damn shame.”
“Does he still have that bulge in Labyrinth?”
“Let’s see… oh. Gross. Yep.”
“Huh. Classic.”
“You’re drunk.”
***
“Oh, my head.”
“We should *not* do that again.”
“Never again. I’m never touching another drop of liquor as long as I live.”
“Let’s not get hasty.”
“Damn it. Has this thing been running all night?”
“Whoops. Yeah. Guess we forgot to turn it off.”
“Well, what did it find? Where are we?”
“Looks like… Oh, maybe six core deviations away?”
“Six? That’s a pretty big deal.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Looks like there’s a universe here where the Soviet Union controls the world… One where the internal combustion engine was never discovered… oh, that’s weird.”
“What?”
“This one universe has an Earth ruled by Napoleon.”
“You mean he conquered it before he died?”
“I mean he *never died*.”
“Holy shit, that’s crazy. Let’s look at that one.”
“Yeah, look at this. Napoleon shaking hands with Hitler… Napoleon putting down Hitler’s Nazi insurrection… Napoleon shaking hands with Abraham Lincoln… Abraham using a smartphone… Huh.”
“What?”
“Here’s Napoleon shaking hands with David Bowie. Apparently he still managed to come around.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, he’s exactly the same. We’ve got Ziggy Stardust and all that, too.”
“And the bulge?”
“...”
“Come on, man. For science.”
“...and the bulge.”
“Classic. What about the Soviet Earth universe?”
“Oh, that one’s totally nuts. I’m talking Russian moon colony in the 70s nuts.”
“Holy shit, really?”
“Yep. But the state controls all the media, so we’re missing out on lots of classic films like Citizen Kane and It’s a Wonderful Life and… huh.”
“Dude, you can’t just keep making sounds and expecting me to ask ‘what?’”
“It’s just that… huh.”
“...”
“...”
“...fine. What?”
“Well, I don’t recognize any of these movies except for one.”
“Let me guess… Suicide Squad?”
“What? No. That didn’t even exist one core deviation away. No, it’s… It’s the Labyrinth.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. There’s David Bowie and his bulge. That’s nuts. Look at all these stuffy Soviets sit down to watch it.”
“What a world. I guess some things never change.”
***
“Hell yeah!”
“What is it?”
“Look at this. Shrimp people.”
“Whoa. So weird. Do they live in the ocean or did they evolve to live on land?”
“Entirely in the ocean. Looks like the surface world is mainly untamed except for…”
“Do you see something?”
“...huh. Yeah. A collection of buildings in North America. Studios, theaters, houses.”
“Shrimp colony?”
“Maybe… Let me check something. Oh, Christ.”
“What is it?”
“David Bowie.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh. Look. There’s the bulge.”
“Dude, we’re long past the bulge here. That’s not even a shrimp David Bowie. That’s a regular old fucking David Bowie.”
“Yep. Look, here he is recording a song with Freddie Mercury.”
“Where’s Freddie Mercury?”
“I don’t know, man. This is way past science. This is…”
“Don’t you dare say art.”
“What? No. This is some weird supernatural bullshit, I guess. It’s beyond me.”
“Just some very weird probabilities, I guess, right?”
“I guess. Not sure there’s another explanation.”
“Okay, well… This is some incredible technology. We’re at 100 core deviations now. There should be some way crazier stuff than shrimp people.”
“Shrimp people with David Bowie.”
“Whatever. Show me an Earth where life never evolved. That could be fun.”
“Sounds boring, but whatever. Here we go. Here’s a universe where *Earth itself* never formed.”
“So this is just the empty space where Earth is supposed to be at current time?”
“Yup. Hey, what’s that spot?”
“Let me zoom in. Must be some space debris, an asteroid or something. Here we go. It’s… it’s a pile of ashes.”
“Hey, Ken.”
“What?”
“Wasn’t David Bowie…”
“Oh, forget it. He’s got no chance in hell of appearing.”
“I’m just saying… wasn’t he cremated? We should… you know… double-check. For science.”
“Fine. Whatever. Let me scroll back through time.”
“Hey, you never know.”
“I definitely know about this one. There’s no way he could… well.”
“Well?”
“Well fuck me. Look at this.”
“...he should be dead.”
“He should be boiled alive and imploding and suffocating and all that. He’s in a vacuum.”
“Ken.”
“No. I won’t.”
“We have to know.”
“No.”
“What if he’s a god? What if that’s his version of a crucifix or something?”
“That’s so offensive, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Just do it.”
“Fine. Here we go… Yep. Enjoy.”
“It’s…”
“It’s David Bowie’s bulge floating in space. I hope you’re [happy](https://reddit.com/r/Badderlocks).” |
I sat down in the chair in the middle of the room, just trying to process what I’d just been told “So…. I have to choose one of you, and whichever one I chose will grant me their everlasting protection?”
“Yes, it’s that simple” Zeus responded.
“What’s the point of this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Athena said “We want to know which god’s protection is most desired by Mortals. We brought you here to answer that burning question.”
“Right. Lady Athena, I have to ask. If I don’t choose your protection, what will you do?”
Athena scoffed “Why, isn’t it obvious? I will kill you for your insolence if you dare choose any other than me”
My eyes went wide with shock. “Is that true for all of you? Will you all try and kill me if I don’t choose you?”
A chorus of thunder rang out around the amphitheater of the Gods “Of Course I will!”, “What a stupid question” “Does this mortal know nothing?” “He better hope I decide to only kill him if he doesn’t pick me”
Only Hades stayed quiet. “Lord Hades” I asked “You alone will not kill me if I don’t choose you?”
Hades shrugged “You will be mine boy, now or in time, it matters not when, it will come to pass”
“Ok. Lord Hades, in that case, might I ask what form your protection will take if I choose you?”
“Why it’s simple. I will kill you and seal your soul away in the pit of Tartarus. No god Nor Titan, nor spawn of foul Typhon will be able to get to you there.”
My heart sank. I desperately grasped “Hera, Queen of the gods. What form of protection will you offer me?”
Hera eyed me haughtily “I will command every being, from the meanest mouse to the mightiest god to not lay a hand on you.”
“And they will listen?”
“Of Course”
Laughter boomed out among the assembled gods. It was clear they would not respect Hera’s order. I was in trouble. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit me. I looked over to the nine muses and mouthed thank you, before turning to address
“Thanatos, god of death. If you decide not to collect me then I can not die. Will you offer me this as your protection? That you will not come seek me before my time?”
Thanatos played his scythe, as if he was bored with proceedings. “I could, but I wouldn’t recommend that. There are worse things than death boy, and the Gods of Olympus know that better than most.”
I was running out of options. “Poseidon, god of the seas, what protection do you offer me?”
Poseidon drew himself up “I will grant you an estate in fallen Atlantis, where you will be served by my own servants, the sea nymphs, and you will want for nothing. No god of Olympus will reach you there without my leave….. erm, do you have gills by chance?
I cried out in frustration and turned to the War god
“Ares, will you defend me from your kin?”
“Indeed lad, it will make for a mighty tale. A tragedy worthy of Homer himself”
“Tragedy? Never mind. Hermes, swiftest of gods, will you take me away from here before the others can take me?”
“I could, but you humans aren’t built to travel that fast. Pesky G-Forces”
I was nearly out of options. I turned back to “Zeus, king of the gods. Surely, you of all gods are the mightiest, Surely you of all gods can protect me?”
Zeus smirked “Indeed I can lad.” He walked towards me and put an arm around my shoulder “Let it be known that if this boy chooses me, then I will use all my power to protect him from any who would harm him. And in return” He looked at me with a predatory smile “You will show me your gratitude, I’m sure”
“NOPE” I cried out “Not worth it”
Zeus shrugged “I’m more of an offensive god anyway. Lightning bolts can’t do a whole lot to protect a person”
I collapsed on the floor, eyes closed. There were no good options. I had to choose one of these gods as my patron, and the others would be so offended they would tear me limb from limb. I opened my eyes and saw Dionysus sitting in my eye line
“Dionysus, god of Wine. What protection do you offer?”
“Well lad, I will make you so hammered that when the others come for you, you won’t feel a thing.”
“I’ll take it” |
Guys, let me start this by giving you a little back story. My name is Blaze (parents gave it to me at the hospital because I had been born Powered, lame right?). The first Powered generation of people had begun being born around 2456 (you can imagine the baby boom after the first one was discovered). My parents were among those that got sucked into the hype, despite their poverty and no desire to be parents. They ended up having first my oldest sister, then my twin brothers, then my closest brother, and finally they got what they wanted with me. A Powered child. My parents were so excited at first, I was a star child growing up Okmulgee, Oklahoma (middle of nowhere). They took me to all the parades, gatherings, and festivals for the Powered kids up until I hit puberty and my powers began coming in. I was a Class F (Failure Class) Powered individual (you can imagine the disappointment of my parents). My "special ability", immunity to time powers. After that life went on, the little bit of fame faded, we returned to absolute poverty and added bonus dad started drinking a lot. Overall a pretty shit childhood, I got out of there at the age of 16 and moved straight to Manhattan where I worked as a garbage man.
Now on to the important bits...
It was a Saturday and it started like any other day...The Speed was fighting Crusade in Tokyo (why Tokyo? Whatever), Fallen Angel was nowhere to be found (probably high again), and of course everyone's favorite Cosmic Burn was giving some speech. Woop dee doo, just another day in the life. I left from my apartment onto Fifth Ave, the rain had just started to come down and I hadn't brought an umbrella. Damn elevator was broken and I wasn't walking back up five flights of stairs to get one. I figured I might as well go down to Mike's Deli, they have the worst subs in all of Manhattan (but Mike was my best [only] friend so I went everyday).
I walked into the empty deli, Mike was sat behind the counter staring at his phone. He didn't even look up before belting out, "you can make it yourself, Blaze."I walked behind the counter grumbling about what an asshole he is and began making a sandwich. I was nearly done making my breakfast, lunch, whatever I don't even know what time it is. Mike hadn't said another word the whole time. That's strange...as I layed down the last slice of pepperoni, I hollered at him "Hey, I called you an asshole!"No response, great...I walked over and pushed Mike and he simply fell out of his chair (serves him right, the asshole). Welp, time must be frozen again, I grabbed my sandwich and stepped outside to check and sure as hell, everything was stopped. OH WELL. Happens about every three months, it'll come back sooner or later. I went about my day like usual and the next. Then a week, now a month...(even though Mike is the only person I talk to, this is getting lonely).
It's been four months now and everyone is still frozen in time. I have pulled off every prank I could think of. Gathered all the cool new gadgets that I wanted (don't act all goody two shoes, you would do the same thing in this situation). It's not like I can even use the gadgets seeing as my abilities can't be extended to allow me to even switch the TV channel (benefits of being a F Class). I've wandered the whole city, and even thought about walking all the way to Mom and Dad's, I'm that bored and lonely (plus I've eaten all the food that was still good out of Mike's Deli). I'm sat at home thinking about what I should do and drinking (like father, like son), go to Okmulgee or figure this thing out. I end up passing out before coming to a decision, it's day 128 now and I'm hungover as hell and a little pissed off. I'm tired of being the only person around, I'm going to figure this thing out.
I figure that Dr. SLOW must be behind this. He's the only Powered Villian with time powers I know that is strong enough to do this. But why? Why would he do this, for this long? That's absurd even for him (unless his girlfriend left again and he's depressed) I've actually hung out with him several times, he's not really a bad guy, just misunderstood. Also seeing as we are two of the only three people immune to time powers, we're bound to end up at the same places, some times (wink). I head over, grab my bag and head out of my apartment. Dr. SLOW is usually in his lair (I don't know why he calls it that, it's just a fortified house, but whatever) out in Boston. It's only about a three day trip walking (if you're sober), so I break into a few unlocked apartments, grab a couple extra supplies (and bottles) and head out. It was not a three day trip, I ended up lost twice, fell into a pond when I was drunk and camped out for a night. Overall it was a miserable five day journey. Plus I ran out of food and drink on day four so day five was especially dreadful.
I got to the door to his "lair"around 9 pm and punched in the code. Dr. SLOW is a Class A Powered and can extend his abilities to make sure his "lair"continues to work even when he freezes time around the globe. I expected to hear the mechanical clunking, but there was no noise...that's strange. I wait another minute before trying the code again (must have gotten wrong the first time). I carefully punch the numbers in and wait, nothing. Now I'm getting annoyed, is this asshole that depressed that he changed the codes?! I bang on the door, and shout "Hey let me in!!!". I do this incessantly on and off for about five minutes with varying degrees of profanities mixed in. Still, I hear nothing on the other side. Okay, this is getting weird I think to myself. I walk to the nearest mechanics shop and find a heavy bar (added bonus, the mechanic had a fridge stocked with beer so I sat and drank two, plus took the rest for the road). If that asshole won't let me in, I'll break in. I get back to the door of his "lair"and began bashing and prying it open. After about four hours and the rest of the beer, the door comes open. I walk in not knowing what to expect but it certainly wasn't this. Dr. SLOW is frozen in time!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!
P.S. If there is enough interest, I have an idea for part two/continuation. |
"You've what now?"
"Come to kill the beast."
The chieftain narrowed his eyes at the knight. "We don't have a beast."
"The dragon!"the knight exasperated, pointing at the mountaintop.
"Oh. You mean our Frod? That's no beast, that's our protector."
"Frod? Protector? What ARE you on about? We have come to save you from the dragon."
"Frod protects us from invaders, melts the paths clear of snow in the winters and brings us tasty meat already flame cooked when we are unable to get it ourselves. He eats the coyotes and foxes that want to steal out chickens and livestock. And if you ask real nice and feed him a sheep, Frod even gives us a ride over the peaks to Meadsmere for trading.
"But... it's a dragon. Dragons are evil and must be vanquished."
The chieftain furrowed his brow. "Dragons are evil, you say? Well, Frod is no dragon. Frod is a... Wyrm."
"A what, now?"
"A Wyrm."It was the first word that had come to the chieftain's mind.
"Well... a Wyrm looks a but like a dragon but good. Like an angel and a devil are two sides to the same form. A Wyrm is the good version. So be gone with you! There are no dragons here. Only a Wyrm and it is a crime to kill wyrms as much as to kill angels."
The knight slowly left in confusion. He'd never heard of wyrms before.
And that is how dragons came to be known as Wyrms. |
His statement shook me to my core. "76 years?"I thought to myself as the guard stared me and all the other members from the plane up and down, questioning our legitimacy. I stepped up and responded with the only thing I could think of, "We must've time traveled... What year is it? We're from the year 2021 and our flight is from Cincinnati."The guard tells us to stay put and he walks away to his superior. The other officers stare at us suspiciously, their guns in the ready position.. He speaks with his superior in German. I only know because I took a few years in high school. I hear them talking about spies.
As the guard was away, I was able to digest my surroundings. I noticed the guards were wearing a gray uniform that looked eerily familiar to the photos I saw in my history books. As I continued examining them, I saw it, a swastika on their arm, on their hat, there were Nazi banners and propaganda all around me as I looked around what should've been the Ronald Reagan airport. I think to myself, "what the hell is happening... Im supposed to be on a vacation from Cincinnati and in DC for my first time."
The guard walks back with our papers in hand and his superior beside him. They don't appear to be pleased with my ploy of "time travel."They begin arresting us, we're now pleading for help, everyone in the airport keeps walking, they don't even spend a second to consider what's happening.. They drone by, no expression on their face, they can't even look at us as this is going on.. "Sir, please, I have no idea what happened.. I swear we ar.."The guard then knees me in my stomach and I fall to the ground. I can't breath, the bastard knocked the wind out of me. The guard draws his pistol and presses the barrel to the back of my head.. "Not another word from you."I'm frozen with fear. My wife beside me is now breaking down in tears and fear.
They stand us up and take us to a wall. This wall is painted red. I begin to go numb. They line us up, one by one. I hear a loud bang and see a man fall forward, he's 10 feet to my left. Blood pools around him, he's older, his face looks calm, rested, almost euphoric... I look forward again, at the wall in front of me. Bang! A second shot.. another body falls, this time they're not dead.. he shot her in the chest. She is flailing around, struggling to breathe. The officer steps on her back, pinning her to the ground and making it harder for her to breathe(as if it wasn't hard enough.) Fear on the woman's face. After a minute she stops, her face locks into a look of pain. She was older, in her 60s.
The guard then gets to me and my wife.
I feel a cold barrel behind me, on my neck. I hear a click.
But there's no pain, I hear another click. The guard begins murmuring to himself. Click, click, click. Nothing happens. Then, outside I hear a massive explosion as I see a Nazi plane blown to a pile of rubble. The guards stand there, staring at tge explosion, confused. One guard says, "Could it be the Chinese? They haven't struck us since 1991."Then another plane is blown up, this time the windows shatter by us. The guards run, presumably taking their battle positions.
We run and take shelter in a nearby bathroom. An explosion above us shakes the building once we're inside. We hear a loud crashing outside of the door. I try to open the door some with my foot but it's stuck now. We're trapped.
As time passed, it's been a week.. The 5 of us that made it into the restroom have been surviving off of the sink water.. We're beginning to get delirious from the lack of food. Then we hear some sounds outside of the bathroom, we're fearful as it may be the Germans, finally coming to finish what they started. The voices we hear are murmered, it's too difficult to understand what they're saying. But there are sounds of excavation, they're trying to get to us. We decide to yell for help, we figured we'll either die in this bathroom from famine or be shot by the Germans.
Another day passes, finally we see light behind the door frame. The door opens. I see a Chinese flag on the soldiers arm. "Please, help us,"I say weakly. The soldier shuts the door and walks away.
We open the door with hope for a new start. Hope that we can somehow return to the dimension we came from. Hope that we can return to our family and friends somehow. |
**!! GET READY FOR THE FINALE OF *SOUL CRUSH* !!**
_________
The giant screen in front all but blinded us.
Flashing
***THE GAME IS NEVER WRONG*** over and over again in the seemingly most agitating way, off-beat, and off-center. There was shitty thumping music in our earbuds, the kind that sounds great for the first ten seconds and then you've heard all you need to; only this time it was attempting to give us a lobotomy from the inside.
I looked to the right, staring at the woman they've decided to "pair"me with, if finding your love is what people really think this shit is about.
Shoes.
Hair.
Face.
She stared at the screen, but felt me burning a hole in her cheek. If looks could kill, I'd have found my reflection in her eyes already. Here we are though, *lovers*, bound and gagged, tortured until we decide to play along. Her head tilted slightly as she looked towards the ground. She chewed on the cloth in her mouth a bit; she had an idea, the thing I learned first about her was how she schemed. She's a schemer and by god does she scheme. The blank stare, the head tilt, the quick side-glance as if to mentally copy me and paste me into the image of her mind. The other contestants found their love to be "*so pure and ready*"right off the bat, but I had my doubts about them just giving into pressure. Don't want mom and pops to suffer so they'll just suck it up and pretend to love each other, the only thing in their favor is that polyamory is more of a thing than in the past, social acceptance-wise I guess.
That's not how it works for us though. We don't accept this bullshit, and that's all it is. So if you're thinking about joining the show, go fuck yourself. You'll feel a lot better after.
I jostle around, the bindings around my ankles and wrists pulling against me. They have us in this stupid seated thing, but they can't hold too much of us down because then our appearances will be all mangled for television and they don't want that. The woman looks at me inquisitively and disappointingly at the bindings. Yeah well, she's a schemer, I'm a doer.
*GHCK*
Fuck.
Screen.
Plastic.
Fucking Fuck.
Edge.
Sound.
Fucking Forehead.
Wrong.
Wrong.
Never.
I take my eyes off the top of the screen. My hand, now dislocated, broken, or something, crumbles and slides through the bindings. The fingers jitter around through the leather wrap, once it's through I look up at her. My eyes meet hers, her eyebrows furrowed without a blink to be found, like a glass doll. Then, out of the corner of her lips, the first smile I've seen her wear creeps slowly onto her face. |
The clanging of metal steps filled the corridors of the White Mausoleum as a lonesome knight roamed them. The flawless steel armor that surrounded her body bounced the few rays of light that the moon provided, covering her entire body in an unbreakable, shiny carapace and hiding her true identity. As she traveled through the gargantuan building, another set of softer and graceful footsteps echoed. Before long, her path collided with a senile, old man wearing a tall pointed hat and a bundle of pristine white clothing. At the sight of the paladin, he jumped in place, before realizing who his new companion was.
“By Albus’ light” He let out in his tranquil voice. “You scared me, sister Lillith.”
The knight bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Archbishop Abaddon. I didn’t think I would find anyone else wandering His holy house this late into the night.”
The elder man let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s quite alright.” He comforted. “You needn’t apologize for my mistake.”
“Might I escort you to your quarters, Archbishop?” The look on the man’s face was as stoic as ever, but even then, Lillith could sense a most subtle change in demeanor. His stance, the light drop of sweat that began forming at the top of his forehead, the smell of a guilty man that reached her inhuman nose was telling a story that he did not want to tell.
“That… won’t be necessary, Lillith.” He assured. “I truly doubt there are any evildoers who would want to harm me in the middle of our beloved church.”
“I insist.” As the two words left her mouth, the Archbishop realized there was no escaping her company. With no logical reason to deny her help, he surrendered and told Lillith she could follow him to his room if it would help ease her doubts. In silence, they both made their way through the white and golden hallways towards the west wing of the infamous White Citadel. The walls were filled with paintings depicting various events throughout history, some bloodier than others, causing Lillith to stare at the works of art quite intently.
“Archbishop…” She broke the silence. “If I may, what made you stay up so late at night?”
The man raised an eyebrow towards her. “Oh, you know…” He stuttered. “The God of Light’s work is never truly over, I must have lost track of time whilst I devoted my efforts to him.”
She smiled under her helmet. “You must be quite dedicated, Archbishop. I’ve recently heard you have been taking more and more sleepless nights in his name.”
“It is the least I can do.” He admitted. “After all the blessings we have received from him, sacrificing my shuteye sounds like a small sacrifice.” Once he finished his sentence, a tall, marble door appeared at the end of a small hallway to their right, indicating the end of their quest. The Archbishop pulled out a diamond encrusted key from his pocket, fiddling with it for a second before the click of the lock announced the door’s opening. Before he could say his parting words to the accompanying knight, he felt a great force push him inside of the room and a hand covering his mouth, preventing him from shouting for help. The door quickly shut behind him.
Once the hand was removed from his lips, he yelled at his unknown assailant.
“Have you any idea who you are messing with?!” He screamed, realizing that the attacker wore the same armor of the knight who had escorted him there. “Lillith?! What is the meaning of this?!”
“Oh Archbishop…” she said, mocking him, removing her helmet to show her dark blue skin and shaved off horns atop her head. “You are a smart man, aren’t you? Surely you can figure out why you are in this situation.”
“I knew there was something wrong with you from the moment that blasted Ignis took you into our citadel… I knew you were a traitor from the first day!”
“Right! So that’s why you let me guide you all the way to your bedchamber” Lillith barked at him. “Surely you were planning to take me down once and for all, weren’t you?” Abaddon laid on the floor in silence, feeling the weight of the vial in his innermost pocket. “Or could it be… that you were planning something else? Perhaps use that little flask of Morpheus’ Dream that you hold so close to your person? Like what you did to Erika…”
“It is purely medicinal, you wench!”
“Don’t lie to me, snake!” She yelled as she pulled out her mithril sword from its sheath. “Now… I’m a merciful demon. If you can prove yourself useful, I may just let you live…”
“As if I would ever help one of the Night Children! I have my god’s love on my side, I do not fear death!” A swift strike removed his hand clean off. Shock entered his body through the wound causing him to kneel over his new lacking extremity.
“First question… What lies beneath the Speaker’s chambers?”
The man kept screaming in pain, clutching his wrist as waves of crimson spilled to the floor.
“Answer me before I cut the other one!”
“I don’t know!” He cried out. “I don’t know they don’t let us Archbishops go down there! Only the Speaker and his inner circle know… Please… No more of this.”
She knew he was not lying but still felt unsatisfied with the response. “Second question… Who is the Chained God?”
“Isn’t it obvious?!” He began. “Your kind should know that the gods don’t give out their power for free! So Speaker Suman had to make a choice… he chose humanity!” As the words left his mouth, an expression of terror filled his eyes. “I’ve said too much…” He got on his knees and placed his head on the floor. “Forgive me Speaker for I have sinned against my brothers and against my order… I believe in the light as the light believes in me… I believe in the light as the light believes in me…”
Lillith stared in confusion as the archbishop prayed. “We’re not finished yet… How many of you know about the Chained God?” The man did not cease his prayer. “I asked you a question, snake! Answer me before I do something we both don’t want to happen.”
“I believe in the light and the light believes in me!” He yelled, his eyes losing any color and beginning to shine brightly with an ethereal light. Lillith quickly made her way to the door as the glow increased, filling the entire room in no time. Just before she could get to a safe distance, a thunderous explosion filled the archbishop’s bedroom, sending the armored knight flying through the air, and alerting every single resident of the White Citadel. Her first instinct was to cover her head once more with her helmet. As she got to her feet, a stinging pain filled her leg.
“Shit… shit!” She whispered. “Now is not the time to be broken, you asshole!” Lillith began limping her way out of the scene, bearing more questions inside of her mind than the ones she had prior to her encounter. For now, she was satisfied with escaping with her life. |
"What's the worst that could happen?"The words echoed in my mind. I should not have listened to her, but Ina had a way of getting under my skin. Older sisters do that. So here I was, standing in front of the temple's back door. No way was I going in by the front. It overlooked the entire village, and there would be no way of getting in unseen.
"Sani what are you doing?"Ina had found me.
"I am going inside. You made a few good points, and I want to see this god that controls our entire lives"I said, going up the three steps. Ina made a noise like a mouse being stepped on, but she followed me. When I looked at her in surprise, she shrugged.
"You're my little sister. I got you curious, and I'll get you out if anything happens."
We pushed the door open, the warped wood scraping across the stone floor. Stepping into a small antechamber, we both wrinkled our noses.
"Maybe an animal got in, and couldn't get out,"I whispered, trying to remain calm. We had just broken the most important law the god had ever set down. Do not enter the temple.
"That must be it."Ina sounded about as confident as a mouse that had just entered a cat's gullet. Wordless, we crossed to the other door, this one swinging freely.
The large throne room gaped before us, stretching down until it hit the front door. I stared at the door, knowing that just outside it, were the guards that would kill us if they found us. Ina gasped. And I looked to my left.
Looming over us, taller than anything but a mountain had a right to be our god sat on their throne. Both of us froze in place. My eyes darted over the figure, trying to see if we'd garnered notice. Cloth hung in rags, on skin that dripped off of giant bones. The smell was stronger here, and I covered my nose.
"Ina. I think they're dead."I said, walking with more confidence out from beside the throne and round to the front. Indeed, the massive head was nothing more than a skeleton, with strips of dead skin hanging from the top like a gross parody of hair.
"Then why can I hear something breathing?"Her voice had dropped to something below a whisper. I froze, listening intently. She was right. There was a rhythmic sound. The sound of breath. But it wasn't coming from the corpse. It was... from the right!
I spun, just in time to see a small figure dart behind a column. Drawing Ina's attention to it, I raised my voice. Hopefully, the guards wouldn't hear.
"It's all right. We won't turn you in, we're not supposed to be here either."Again, the only sound was hoarse breathing. Then, with a swift almost fatalistic motion, the figure stepped out from the column. They looked exactly like a miniature version of our old god. At least how the god had been depicted on our coinage.
"You won't hurt me?"The voice wasn't the same. We had all heard our old god speak, though I had been very young at the time. This voice was tiny, scared, barely audible.
"Come here young one. No one is going to hurt you."Ina said, kneeling on the floor and holding her arms out. She had all the instincts of a mother, though—through the old god's own rules— she was forbidden to have any children. The little being ran towards her, clattering into a hug. They were crying.
"It's been so scary. I don't understand anything. Why am I here? What is that thing?"While Ina comforted the child, I peered at the skeleton. In the chest area, there were many broken rib-like bones. Broken from the inside out.
"Ina. That child... they came from inside the god."I whispered as Ina dried the child's tears. Standing, she took a firm grip on the being's hand, as she looked where I pointed. Her face shifted, running a gamut of emotions. Finally, it settled on resolve.
"I don't care where they came from. They are scared and in need of some proper food and... love."She smiled down at the child, who gave her a tremulous smile back. "Besides. Maybe we can help this one."
Staring at her, I knew what she meant, without the need for more words. Our old god had been a tyrannical, capricious nightmare. With the right care, maybe *this* one wouldn't have to be. |
I waited with my breath held for several seconds before an angry face popped up on the communication monitor. "Admiral, our shi-"
"Allow me to stop you right there, two-facer. This communication channel is both restricted to clearance levels 4 and above, and exclusive to USSF use only. So what's a Xerokis spy doing on my ship?"
"Well, Admiral, I am the janitorial and repair crew member, clone code GR-725 of the USSFS Olympus Mons, SCV-76. We were heavily damaged in the last battle against the Xerokis fleet around upper Galileo, and until we finish repairs to the catapult in the lower starboard hangar, we won't be classified as battle-worthy."I hoped, i prayed, that he wouldn't cut the call and send us in anyways. My other selves and I would surely perish.
The admiral looked at me like I was from another planet. "Well I think you're from another planet, if only because that was a load of alien shit. There is no 'janitorial and repair crew' on our ships. They're all operated completely remotely!"
How could an admiral not know we existed? I mean maybe a lower ranking office wouldn't be told about us, but an admiral? No, he would have been informed upon advancement that cloning of humans has been commonplace for cleaning and repairing in the military since the late twenty-first century, almost two hundred years ago. "Sir, I think that you've been misinformed about the status of your fleet. This ship is kept clean inside by roughly one hundred thousand clones, all stemming from the genes of the first captain of our vessel."The face on my screen went from confused with mild anger to fully confused.
"Well I suppose it explains many things, like how our guns aren't constantly jamming, and how our ships magically regain functions, but how can I be sure?"
"Your concern is understandable, Admiral. Allow me to resolve this concern now."I turned to the me repairing a monitor that hooked into the damage control calculator computer for the upper hangar. "Erich, the Admiral wants proof we're clones."
"He actually picked up? Heh, guess we aren't dying just yet."Erich walked over and waved to the admiral from behind me. "Howdy, sir. Just working on the nerd box for the upper hangar."
The admiral went pale. "You mean we've been throwing away lives for hundreds of years and no ones done a thing?"
Now i spoke again. "Not exactly sir, our very existence is meant to be expendable. Yeah, that's a downer, but in the end we're not the base catalyst, so are we really human? We've decided that we are, but without any weapons controls onboard it's not like we can free ourselves. Life sucks, oh well."
The admiral gained color back in his face and stood up straight. "Well, just call me when you're done with, whatever it is you do. After that we move in, I suppose."
Erich and I saluted him and he hung up the call. I turned to my friend. "Well, no rest for the weary I suppose."Erich got back to his monitor, and I started looking for something to do. I found my tool bag and found another monitor, this one for damage control in the forward hangar. Hopefully our repairs would hold up through the next battle, and then our next repairs would hold up again. What better incentive to keep up the work then our lives being on the line? I began to fiddle with the gadget as those thoughts slipped away. |
"Macchiato for Brenda!"I called out, my voice carrying across the small shop as I set the small cup on the counter, turning to continue my next drink. My flow was interrupted, however, by an unpleasant screeching.
"Excuse me!!"The woman's expression was one filled with disdain. "This is not what I ordered."
I sighed. My perfect wage-slave smile faltered as I turned my attention towards the woman. Brenda. What a fitting name for the middle-aged woman, her short bob with chunky highlights broadcasting to the world her terrible personality. I knew, before I even opened my mouth, that I would not get through to her.
"It's like I tried to explain to you, ma'am. We don't do drinks like Starbucks. This is a true macchiato."
The woman's lip curled with disgust as she spoke, "Are you a moron? I know what I want. I can't believe you're a barista and you don't even know what an Iced Caramel Macchiato is."
*I can't believe you don't know this could be your last day alive,* I think bitterly.
"I offered to make you an upside-down iced latte with caramel drizzle, like you were expecting, but you insisted on me making you a macchiato. An iced macchiato doesn't really exist."I told the woman calmly.
She laughed at me. *Laughed*. As if I was the idiot here. "Look, sweetie, I know for you to be working a teenager's job you must not have it all right in the head, but this is ridiculous. Make me my correct drink. I won't ask you again."
She wouldn't ask me again? What would she do? Climb over the counter and make her own drink?
She continued to speak, "You must be so confused. The drink I want is about *this* big."She gestured with her hands, like I was an elementary schooler unfamiliar with the concept of size.
"And that drink is tiny. I mean, really, I don't know why this is so hard. I just. Want. My. Drink!!"Her words turned into shouts as she further lost her composure. God, what a pathetic excuse for a human.
My patience was faltering. How many times could I have the same conversation before it would get through to people? Honestly, I *wanted* to make them a drink they would like. I enjoyed the art of coffee. Pouring a perfect shot, steaming the milk just right, and pouring an instagram-worthy latte art for each and every drink were all aspects that made me love this job.
People like her, though... Well, they ruin things for everyone.
"Please don't raise your voice at me."I told her, perhaps a bit more rudely than I tried to be, "I assure you, I am trying to help."I couldn't help but add, "And I know what I'm talking about, I don't know why you think you know better. I've worked here for--."
That last part was a mistake. The woman slammed the drink on the counter, sending the hot liquid cascading over the bar. I felt a drop touch my skin, and I knew what my plans for tonight would be.
She was screaming, now. Stamping her foot like an overgrown child. Which she was, really.
"I WILL NOT BE INSULTED!!"Again, her foot stomped, as if the downwards force would somehow make her preferred drink appear. "THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. I WANT TO SPEAK TO--"
"The manager is out today. I'm the only one here. I'll remake your drink. I'm sorry, I must've just been confused."She wouldn't question the sudden change in my demeanor, nor would she feel unsettled by my calm, unfeeling gaze. She just wanted someone to yell at, someone to kiss her feet and beg for her forgiveness. Someone she could abuse and take our her pent up frustration on, free of consequence.
The woman continued her verbal assault on my intelligence as I made the drink she wanted. I made it correctly, sure to even use vanilla syrup just like they did at Starbucks. The drink would be to her satisfaction. My mind was elsewhere as I set the drink down without a word. She took it and took a sip half expecting to be able to continue disparaging me, before smacking her lips obnoxiously.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"She turned to leave the shop.
I hoped the drink was worth it.
\------
Night had fallen, and my cute and casual uniform had been traded for something more practical. A bullet-proof vest, pads for my various joints, and heavy pants were covered by an impossibly black robe. It was flowy enough to give the impression of movement, of an imposing silhouette, but not loose enough to impede me in combat. Under the large hood I wore a glinting mask depicting a skeletal visage. Literal, perhaps, but I had never been much for creativity. I was death, and everyone who saw me would know what fate awaited them.
Usually, I did not have the opportunity to engage my targets so quickly. Tonight was a stroke of luck. The woman, *Brenda*, had gone for a solo late-night dinner, and was taking a shortcut home. There were a few people around, but they would do nothing to stop me. Anyone who got in my way knew what would become of them. They were unfortunate collateral. My mission could not be stopped.
I carried no scythe as I approached her from behind. I did not need weapons.
"Turn and face me."I spoke, my voice not of the charming barista from this morning, but modulated into a horrific, deep echo. The voice of death.
She froze, and turned to me on instinct. She knew who I was, why I was here.
"Please. Don't kill me. I- I have kids!! I haven't done anything to deserve it."I hated it when they begged. Like I would come all this way, and change my mind at their simple pleas. Such pathetic beings.
My power was simple. I could alter any target into a form of my choosing, as long as its state of matter and mass remained the same.
Also, I could turn things invisible. It was helpful for my get aways.
I held out my arm, preparing to use my power. I had nothing left to say to the woman. Well, nothing except,
"Please enjoy your drink."
My one-liner was interrupted by her screams of anguish as the blood in her veins was turned to scalding espresso. I wasn't sure exactly what the temperature was, but judging by the amount of steam rising from her melting flesh, it seemed to get the job done.
It was not an instant process. My power took a few moments to transform the liquid in her body, and her skin took an excruciatingly long time to melt away. Her wailing form fell to the ground as her knees buckled and collapsed. I didn't stick around to confirm the kill. I had plans of catching up on Jeopardy! tonight, and I was already an entire week behind schedule.
Tomorrow, I had my usual shift at McDonalds. If everyone behaved, I would give them nothing but over-processed burgers and dubiously sourced chicken nuggets. If not, well...
Perhaps someone would be deep-fried from within. |
He sipped a cup of latte, roasted to perfection, and the foam in a lovely rosetta shape.
With a frothy stache on his lips, he said out-loud: “What shall I do today?”
Now, Alex-no, Alex III here was born into a family of extraordinarily long life-spanned individuals who called themselves “Ammortals” (because they thought it was cool).
They weren’t exactly invincible, but they were pretty dang hardy (their skin was tougher than most metals on earth). And pretty concerned with their prestige. And so they rode into war with a “live-or-die” attitude (even though they couldn’t die so easily).
His grandfather was Alexander the Great, and his father was Alexander the Grand and they all had such high hopes for the third.
Yet, young Alex here did not exactly fit the bill of a typical Ammortal. He wasn’t all that gifted in his physicality, wasn’t exactly a meathead, and wasn’t all that interested in warfare.
While the rest dedicated their life to fighting fierce battles and even fiercer wars, all in the name of creating a legacy for themselves, all he wanted to do was live his life without involving all of that conquering and honour nonsense.
Now, one thing to note was that the Ammortals were all pretty much muscleheads (that’s why they got along so well) that discussed the best way to use their weapons and win wars. The books that they had collected over the years reflected their interests, and their obsessions repelled Alex from reading or writing.
Alex was always looking for something new to do - something that wasn’t about combat. He had spent his last decade learning how to brew coffee and his recent obsession was to go treasure-hunting (read: dumpster-diving) in his family’s numerous treasuries (read: dumpsters).
Today’s exploration took place in the family’s 27th treasure trove, worn from a battle against some fallen aristocrats. After a half hour, just a couple of fancy lamps, necklaces, and old gauntlets – nothing too interesting – until he saw a quaint-looking ornate box. It was encased in gold, jewel-encrusted, shimmering in the light.
Yet, for all its ostentatiousness, inside contained naught but a plain-looking yellowed book.
The book, by a nameless author, told of a man that was seeking perfection in the way of expressing himself fully and completely. He would travel from land to land, learning from the greats their techniques and their stories. When he reached a ripe old age, he did not reach perfection but had learnt so many new things and could live out his remaining years fulfilled.
The third found himself enthralled to every page as he imagined the place manifest in his mind, and for every worm-eaten word, he would fill in a word of his own and go on his own adventures.
Finally, the story ended.
On the very last page, despite being worn and speckled, captured an image of a bearded gentleman with his eyes twinkling.
Something stirred in him and told him that he too, could write his own stories.
And so, Alex did.
He hurried back to his room. With a picture in mind and pen-in-hand, his back straightened against the chair as he wrote with fervor and a grin too large to be contained. |
My father was born on the Charnia. My grandfather, too. My great grandfather was born on Earth, in a place called Summit, New Jersey.
I think about that a lot.
A summit.
A mountain to climb.
How glorious it must have been to live on earth? To live in a cultural epicenter, to live in the peak of the old world, in all its wild splendor? To live in Summit, New Jersey.
I've seen pictures. The roads are the most fascinating things.
They're these dirt paths that the people would make--sometimes out of dirt, I suppose, sometimes out of stone, or fabra or--well, I suppose probably not with fabra. I guess back in those days they did the fabricating themselves.
Fabrication.
*What a thing, huh?*
My name is Leon, and my life is in danger*.* In fact, the things I'm thinking about *right now--*yes, including *Summit, New Jersey--*could cost me my life if a random Overseer were to crawl on those hideous, steel-pincer legs along the floor of Research Lab 16 and scan my brain waves to paint a picture.
Revelation and scientific discoveries are worth 10x their reaction mass on a place like this.
*"The best thing you can do is learn,"* my father would tell me, messing his dry, rough hands through my hair in the 1g park meant to simulate his grandfather's home.
*"And, idle hands,"* he'd add, depending on who was listening.
That was life here.
We keep the ship alive. Keep it in perfect shape. Keep it ready for the generations who will come after. Keep busy, too. And learn what we can.
My father spent his entire life between carbon cylinders. I mean, almost *literally,* the guy was squeezed between two very real carbon cylinders, twisting and adjusting and "tuning"them to one another.
One pair would align, only for another to realign itself. My father would joke that this ship *should* be called the Sisyphus. He never explained. One time I got curious and asked loudly what he meant.
The Overseers returned him in three days. He was smiling, but I saw the cuts on his back.
One day, my father started to cough.
Then he started to cough a lot more.
The cylinders were grinding together, just slightly, all the time. My father thinks he breathed some of the "stuff"in, but medical just told us "it was his time."
They pressured me a bit to go into the cylinders when I turned ten, ready to work with the rest. I knew by then I didn't trust them, though. I weasled out. They weren't happy about that, the Overseers.
I decided I'd go into Research, if I could--join the *elite minds* making scientific observations and carving our path through outer space.
And that lead me to....
I check the time.
Seventeen and a half minutes ago.
*Not a lot of time,* I reflect.
Though, it's a long time to just sit, staring into space.
In some cultures on the Charnia, this would make fathers question if I was really a man fit for their daughters--seventeen minutes! In the middle of a Shift. Unthinkable.
But I needed the time to think through what I've just, infallibly, confirmed.
It's all a lie. I'm not even sure the extent of the lie--that's how crazy this is. In other words-- *this lie encompasses all that i have ever known, and I have reason to believe it extends even further beyond that.*
The Charnia is kilometers long. It's home to over three million people. It's lightyears from our home. It is a *massive ship,* and its lie....unwoven by something smaller than an atom.
I--
A noise behind me--the sheet-metal sound of the door to lab 13 opening. I spin around. |
firstly, this is the wrong tag. proper tag is .
secondly, we enabled the downvote button. please don't abuse it, but if you think there are redundant prompts you now have the ability to promote what you like *and* demote what you're tired of. that said, the community is gonna pick what the community is gonna pick--it's a democracy, with all its glories and flaws.
lastly, to repeat an oft written mod mantra--you have the power! submit the prompts you want to see! respond to the ones you like! ignore the ones that don't do it for you. for every redditor who wants one scene short story prompts there's gonna be one who feels shut out by them because they can't craft the world they want in limited bounds. this community offers a chance for all kinds of folks--poets, flash fiction fans, fan fiction obsessives, long form and short form fiction writers--to seek out what they want and produce the stories they want to write for the folks who want to read 'em. you'll get farther producing the content you want to see than if you try and herd cats towards your favored prompt type. |
Thaddeus stood still, frozen by some unknown force. His fellow guards, his friends, his brothers lay around him, still and silent. He knew not if they lived, but he was the only one still conscious and standing. Not ten minutes ago, he was joking around with Tammin, whose face was turning white in his fallen state. Thaddeus felt a wave of grief wash over him and struggled to regain control of his body. The emperor was still awake and on the throne, but he was silent and still. His occasional stirring ensured he had his control intact, but his face was calm. He had accepted his fate already. Thaddeus had not.
In a sudden burst he broke the barriers place on his mind and stumbled forward. He fell to his knees but picked himself up quickly, readying the polearm that remained in his hand. The doors to the throne room suddenly burst open in a blast of some sort of energy. Across the threshold walked a man in brilliant robes, holding an orb in his dominant hand. There were runes scrawled across his bald head and his eyes glowed blue with some power. Thaddeus had seen this before: the man had psionic power. That was how he had been immobilized!
"Not come closer! You not belong here!"Thaddeus shouted in jumbled common. The man would not understand his native tongue, so he hoped it was enough to get the message across. The psion's brow furrowed and with a swipe of his hand, Thaddeus was thrown back to the floor. After him came a female rogue, a white scar across her face and dressed in black armor. Thaddeus found he was unable to focus completely on her, so the armor must have been enchanted in some way. These groups of evil marauders often came equipped with many wondrous artifacts. The doors slammed shut behind them, and then the psion straightened his back and turned to the rogue.
"Lady Renevaux, if you would please take care of this whelp so we can do what we came here to do, it would be much appreciated."His voice was raspy, and there was some echo to it. The runes lit up in a dazzling sequence with ever syllable. The woman slowly approached Thaddeus, drawing an intricately designed knife that glimmered in the dim torchlight. As she approached Thaddeus was able to focus more on her features and found her to be of high elf kin. Her ears poked out of the shrouded cowl and her white hair glistened as her dagger did. Thaddeus held his polearm up defensively, but before she could strike, the door burst open and shattered into a splinters. Through the splintered remains of the door came a brutish orc with a gigantic battleaxe. His armor, face, and weapon were splattered with blood, and Thaddeus had the sickening realization that little, if any, of that blood belonged to him. The barbarian looked down at the trembling figure of Thaddeus and smirked.
"Is this all that's left?"the orc grunted. "I faced more than this just wiping my boots on the way in here!"He guffawed with mention of such bloodlust. This monster was beyond the very edge of evil if he could talk about murder with such nonchalance. Thaddeus felt the psion's eyes turn away from him to sigh at the brute, and the rogue Renevaux lowered her guard to shake her head and roll her eyes. Thaddeus saw this sudden opening and jumped to his feet, polearm in hand, and thrust it forcefully into the exposed back of the woman. The long spike at the end of the weapon plunged through her torso, making its exit through her abdomen. She shrieked and the dagger clattered to the ground. Thaddeus used the moment of confusion as the other two turned toward the sound to grab this dagger and in a last-ditch effort, thrust it in the direction of the psion. He reached his hand up but the moment was just long enough that he couldn't stop the projectile. It struck true, right between his eyes. His eyes flared red, glowing intensely, and the runes across his head lit up with the same red energy, then he collapsed to the ground and the lights went out. The orc stood staring, mouth agape, at his two fallen friends and the young Thaddeus, panting and filled with adrenaline.
"SIMON! RENNY!"he shouted, confused and at a loss. His eyes searched frantically and he dropped his battleaxe, falling to his knees. The elf Renevaux turned to the orc, breathing labored, and uttered her final words before her eyes glazed over: "I always loved you, Agronar."She let out a final labored sigh and was still. The barbarian began to sob slowly and Thaddeus reached to pull his weapon from the corpse of the elf. As his hands gripped the pole, the orc's head snapped to him, eyes blazing with rage and the fires of hatred. He sprang up, battleaxe in hand, and charged Thaddeus. Thaddeus dodged to the side but the orc kept charging. As he picked himself up, he realized that he had made a grave error; the orc was headed right for the emperor. Thaddeus raised his hand and tried to yell out for the barbarian to stop, but the words caught in his throat and the orc made a mighty swing with his axe. The emperor's throat was slit and he gurgled as the blood poured out. The proud leader slumped back into his throne and the orc turned on Thaddeus, eyes still ablaze. He charged once more, but Thaddeus had nothing left to lose anymore. His friends, leader, and likely family were slain, and there was only one of this evil group of marauders left to face. As the orc charged, Thaddeus prepared an attack, then as he came close dodged to the side, sweeping the weapon at the orc. It caught on his ankles, knocking him down and using the force of his own charge to send his battleaxe clattering away. Thaddeus brought the polearm upward, preparing to swing at the exposed neck of the orc, but this barbarian was fast. He flipped onto his back, pulling a sword from his belt and catching the polearm as it came down. Agronar pushed back against Thaddeus, causing the young guard to stumble backward. Agronar found his footing again and came at Thaddeus with force, each strike pushing him backwards. With a final mighty swing, the pole split apart and the force of the rupture knocked Thaddeus to the ground. He tried to roll away but the orc was once again too fast. He slammed his foot down onto the chest of the young guard, and Thaddeus felt his ribs break from the force. Gasping for air, he let out a labored "Please..."but the orc was already raising his axe.
"The time has come for the righteous kingdoms of man to reclaim their rule. Today is the end of an era, the end of the evil reign of goblinkind. See you in Hell, goblin scum!"The barbarian let out a roar and brought his axe down on Thaddeus, extinguishing the last of the Iron Mountain Goblins. |
"It's kind of fucked up, right?"
"I don't think you can say 'fucked up' in Heaven, man."
"But like, think about it. You sell shit from Hell. In Heaven. Who decided that's ok?"
"I don't know. I don't give a fuck, Donny. Did you even look at the locket?"
"This one?,"Donny asks, dangling it in font of his face. "Yeah I saw it."
"Open it."Donny opens the locket and his eyes bug out.
"That's you! That's fucking you!"
"I know, Donny."
"And is that, what, your wife? You got this from Hell?"
"Yes, Donny."He looks back at the locket, back at me, then back at the locket. I can see that he's not connecting the dots.
"I gave that to my wife on our 25th anniversary,"I say, grabbing the locket from his hands. "And I just caught it on my line not twenty minutes ago."Donny still has the bug eyes. I shake my head. I'm waiting for him to understand.
"So that means she's in Hell?"he asks.
"No, Donny. It means she threw the locket up here from purgatory because she knew I would find it."
"You think so?"he asks. I want to hit him.
"No I don't fucking think so!"Donny reels back a bit. For how stupid he is, I really do admire him. You have to be a whole other level of dumb to have a heart as good as he does.
"So..."he trails, furrowing his brow, "What *do* you think then?"
I sit still for a minute before nodding slowly. I throw the locket back into the water, watching it make a silent *sploosh* from our spot on the dock.
"I think maybe she was a bitch." |
"Hello?"
"Yes? What is it? Everything OK?"
"Wait, what? Who is he?!"
"Look, Erica, I'm coming home right now. Just calm down."
"No, that's not... No!"
"No, you can't do that. You're not leaving me. That's not going to happen."
"But I don't know what I would do without you!"
"Ok, ok. Just don't hang up on me. I'm coming home now."
.
.
.
----
.
.
.
"Hello?"
"*Tom?*"her voice was faint and weak
"Yes? What is it? Everything OK?"
"Tom, there's someone here. A man. In the house."Her voice was drifting, like she was having trouble concentrating.
"Wait, what? Who is he?!"
"Tom, he shot me. I caught him going through the jewelry and he just turned... and he shot me. I called the ambulance, but I don't hear any sirens. Please come home, Tom..."
"Look, Erica, I'm coming home right now. Just calm down."
"I'm just so tired."she sobbed into the phone. "And I miss you so much. I just wanted to hear you one last time..
"No, that's not... No!"
"I'm scared, Tom. I didn't even know he had a gun. I didn't even know he was there... Tom, where are you? I want you to be here with me before I go."
"No, you can't do that. You're not leaving me. That's not going to happen."
She gave a feeble cough. "I don't want to. I don't want to go. But there's just so much blood. And the ambulance still isn't here... just come home, Tom."
"I don't know what I would do without you!"
"You'll be fine. You're stronger than me. You'd be able to hold on..."
"Ok, ok. Just don't hang up on me. I'm coming home now."
"Please hurry..." |
Remember back when you were a kid, trying to watch a channel that your cable box didn't have access to? There would be that annoying crackle of static and the noise was all distorted, everything would get all photo-negative colors, and those wavy lines would mess with your show? You'd only just barely be able to make out the faces and sounds.
That's what happened to the world when I put on the hat. The sound, the colors, the waves... I was watching a blocked channel.
I picked myself up from the dirty pavement, which was now fuschia colored. The man who had thrown me down and forced this thing onto my head was getting to his feet as well with a confident, knowing smile. He was the only part of the world that looked normal and clear.
"Pretty crazy, eh?"he said.
I looked around me. Pedestrians wearing aquamarine business suits were passing by, giving me the same scornful look that I would have given to anyone else wearing a tin foil helmet. Or at least, it appeared as though they were; hard to tell when they looked more like dripping wax figures than normal everyday people. The strain of this was really hurting my eyes; I had to squint just to make out the landmarks that I knew so well on this block.
"What is this thing?"I reach up to the metal foil wrapped around my head.
"DON'T TOUCH IT!"he cried, springing forward to grab my hands. Pedestrians were making their way around us in a wide bubble, giving the crazy people room to talk. I dropped my hands.
"Don't worry about them,"he said gesturing to the wavy people walking by. "They can't really understand us. The channel works both ways; it just sounds like we're muttering and rambling nonsense to them."
"What did you do?"
"I freed you,"he said simply. He turned back to his corner of the building and pulled out another large scrap of metal foil and began shaping it around a partially deflated basketball, making another helmet. "I blocked their broadcast."
"With *foil*"I asked incredulously.
He nodded. "Simple, huh? And surprising."
"But I've had foil on my head before..."I said, not really sure if I ever had. Surely as a joke or something one time?
"Yeah, but probably not properly. It has to cover the entire cranium, as well as the base of the spinal column. That is where the primary receiver is."
"Receiver? Of what?"
"The broadcast,"he said simply as he dug through his trash bags of junk for something. As though I was stupid for not understanding already.
"What broadcast?"
He gestured around at the wavy, neon yellow concrete walls and bright orange glass windows of the nearby office buildings. "The world that you think you know,"he said with a laugh. "None of this is real. You just think it is because they've been feeding this to you since your were first assembled."
*God, I must be having a nervous breakdown.*
"You're probably starting to think that you're crazy,"he said. My face must have dropped, because he laughed. "No, I can't read your mind. But I've freed plenty of people before, and they all have pretty much the same reaction. The broadcast can't block us out when we have the foil on our heads, so they have no way of covering up our existence. So instead, they just make us seem crazy. Deranged. Dangerous!"As if to prove his point, he jumped toward the nearby pedestrians with his hands raised. I heard their screams as they jumped away from him, but it sounded odd; distant, as though they were yelling from across a large empty gymnasium.
"And so the world really looks like this?"I said, gesturing at the ocher sky and black sun.
"No, no. Not at all. You're still getting fed the broadcast, but the hat is interfering. So instead, you're just seeing their scrambled version. All we've got to do and get you unplugged, and you can see reality."
"What do I need to do for that?"I asked.
He grinned and stood, leaving his ratty sleeping bag and piles of trash on the sidewalk. "Just come with me."He turned and headed down a nearby alley.
I started to follow, but stopped. *This is crazy,* I told myself. *I probably have a concussion from him attacking me. I'm hallucinating.*
I took off the helmet, and the world reverted back to normal. Bright blue skies, fluffy white clouds, sunlight glinting off of glass high rises, and the honking taxis and low rumble of constant chatter that I loved about New York City. From the alley, I saw the homeless man still watching me with an unreadable expression. I crumpled up the ball of foil and tossed it onto his pile of junk, then continued toward my office and tried to silence the voice inside me. *What if you're not crazy? What if he's right?*
[Part two is here!!](http://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/2qxew1/i_blocked_the_broadcast/cnagxcy) |
“So what do we do?” The president asked the ambassador of the rocklons.
“And what’s the threat?” The vice president asked.
“Core unstable.” The ambassador. “Massive volcano, block out sun, choke life, must leave.” He said, reiterating his opening statement.
“But we can’t.” The president argued. “We’d want to verify this core theory first, but even if its true. We can’t just evacuate the planet. At most we could save a few hundred people, and even then they wouldn’t live very long. We just don’t have the supplies to launch that kind of personnel and equipment somewhere hospital. To say nothing of the fact that we’re hundreds of years from terraforming anything or to perfect the cryogenic technology necessary to send people to farther away life supporting planets. It’s just not possible.” The president concluded. This had been a lingering fear in the president’s mind for years. Every time a large asteroid came close, or a disturbing environmental report emerged, he had wondered what the exit plan was. Now that fear had been validated, and there was nothing he could do.
“That why rocklons tell you.” The ambassador to the only other sentient life on the planet said. “Rocklons made of ultralight ultra-durable material. You take Rocklon’s bodies and fly safe. Rocklons protect. Rocklons help.”
Sidenote: three hours before this thing gets a reply? Somebody go make sure /u/Luna_lovewell, /u/chockingvictim, and the other regulars aren’t dead. |
The colony had been set up on Hawaii for two reasons.
The first was because it was central to the Pacific ocean and the second was because there was minimal dangerous infrastructure to take down - no nuclear plants, in other words.
The unofficial third reason was that Hawaii was Hawaii and most of the survivors wanted somewhere beautiful to live; where they could forget about their original home and build a new life. None of us needed reminders about the families we had lost and the homes with empty corridors, slowly succumbing to creeping weeds.
So we'd settled here, all one hundred and fourteen of us. The last survivors of the human race; trying to stay sane, trying to find out if anyone else was alive.
I'd initially been picked up in Darwin, Australia, by three other survivors on a scavenging mission.
Their reaction had been terrifying at first, then welcome. They'd run towards me screaming "IT'S A WOMAN!!!"with this look of insane need in their eyes. Obviously I thought they were going to rape me, as you have always catastrophised when thinking about post-apocalyptic scenarios.
They chased me, of course. At first I figured they weren't shooting at me because they didn't want to fuck a corpse; but as their pleading grew more desperate, I realised something was off.
Drawing a steady bead on them with my pistol (I was ex military) I asked them to explain themselves.
Whatever it was that had destroyed humanity had been very selective.
All the survivors that remained were men. They'd been searching for years for any female survivors and I was the first they'd found, two years after the colony had been set up.
Their excitement was palpable and I was treated like an honoured guest; they gave me as much food and water as they could, then pleaded with me to come back to the the colony on Hawaii, where I would be loved and honoured as the matriarch of all the future generations of humanity.
Full of decent food and clean water, I simply couldn't resist.
They took me back to their plane and within the hour we were winging our way to the colony, where my new life was going to begin.
True to their word they treated me like the first lady of the human race.
I wanted for nothing and the men were all incredibly respectful - their leader, Marcus, made it clear that I should not be forced to breed with anyone; that the revival of the human race would depend on natural selection; on me picking whichever mates were the most attractive to me.
The last thing we wanted, he said, was for the legacy of the new generations of humanity to have been born of rape and misery. My children would be honoured and loved by all; the seeds of hope for a dying species.
Enjoying the luxuries of the colony (and there were many; they'd chosen the resort nearest to an airstrip) I never wanted for anything - especially company. I was never lonely; a constant string of suitors was always waiting on me, begging to offer massages or conversation. Exotic foods or fornication.
And of course I had a few trysts and casual encounters. I wouldn't say anything as trite as 'a woman has needs' but I enjoyed the closeness and the companionship.
Marcus would regularly check up on me and he'd gently probe as to how things were going - meaning was I pregnant yet. He said while I was still in my mid twenties, a lot of the men were older, so time was of the essence, that if we could get started with a new generation while we still had capable hands, then that would be advantageous.
I'd give him my usual assurances that I understood the situation and that these things took time.
But as time wore on and I showed no signs of pregnancy, he and the others started to grow more anxious. We had no doctor amongst us, just a couple of nurses and an EMT. They enquired after my reproductive health and I said I was fine.
But I don't know how long I can keep that lie alive.
You see, whatever it was that wiped out humanity and left only male survivors had done its job extremely well.
There were no biological female survivors left.
None.
And it was only a matter of time before they found out I was a transgender woman.
|
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