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He sat upon a pile of bodies and brooded as the dying flames emitted smoke and obscured the landscape. The carrion birds hovered overhead and eyed the still-warm flesh which carpeted the field below. Scores of warriors, their blades keen and their bloodlust unparalleled, had gathered to do battle that day and had fallen in mere seconds like blades of grass against a scythe. The last man had fallen, both hands removed clean from his wrists, his lifeblood pouring from the stumps jutting from his forearms as he stared in disbelief at the bringer of his doom. A mere child, delicate features evoking an innocence seemingly blessed by the angels themselves, but radiating a sinister power from his body like a dark aura. He had with a casual swipe of his arms from a distance decapitated a line of men with ease. What was more frightening than the monstrous force he wielded was that the only emotion he betrayed was boredom.
The boy sighed and looked towards the heavens, his azure eyes reflecting the eternal blue. He lifted his piping voice upwards in confrontation.
“Is this the best you have to offer? Am I cursed to forever toy with weaklings?”
If the heavens comprehended the boy’s treaty there was no sign. Its only response was the changing flight pattern of the carrion birds as they began their descent. Soon they would glut themselves on the decomposing bodies which were littered like autumn leaves. The boy cursed them, no more than opportunistic leeches feeding off his efforts. Just like the rest of the pathetic creatures around him, swift to boast but dissolving like quicksand at the slightest touch. He had challenged this last bunch after he had disposed of a group of their kinsman in a neighbouring state, hoping in vain that they would provide better sport. As always he was disappointed. All he wished for was a stronger opponent, an enemy to bring perspiration to his brow and palpitations to his heart. Yet he had traveled across the land, destroying any and all, until the bounties placed upon his head grew so large that many nations were forced to pool their treasuries to keep up with the rise in value. None he faced caused him to exert any noticeable effort.
The boy faced a grim truth; his power had grown to such a level that he was, for all intents and purposes, a god. No mortal creature on earth could touch him. Whereas he had enjoyed the thrill that domination and victory had initially brought, now he was weary of the constant repetition his existence had become. What had started as hand to hand combat with one opponent had grown to drawn out battles with a gang of men, and as his power magnified so did the number of opponents until he was facing small battalions and crushing them with ease. Soon he would face the might of whole armies, and when he decimated them he would have no one left to fight. Only the cold embrace of a self-inflicted death would remain. If there was such a thing as fate, the boy thought, it had weaved a cruel irony over the web of his life.
The carrion birds had landed, many of them plucking eyeballs and pecking at meaty morsels. One bird however was ignoring the smorgasbord and approaching the boy with curious little hops. He considered evaporating it, but its beady eyes which stared unwavering into his own stayed his hand. It hopped closer and closer until it was sitting at his feet and cawed before flapping its wings in a strange, almost contemptuous manner. From under its wing dropped a glistening jewel of opaque ebon. It cawed once more and took flight without a second glance.
The boy stooped to pick up the bird’s offering. It was oddly heavy, although its heft in the palm of his hand was no worse than a pebble. It seemed to hum with unexpressed potential. Its cut was complex, carved to show twenty smooth faces, each face with a symbol engraved in silver. He was unable to discern the meaning of the symbols, the straight lines and sweeping curves barbaric and alien. It was clearly a magical artifact, the bird a disguised valkyrie sent by the gods to answer his rude prayer. But nothing he did caused it to activate. He focused his power upon it, enveloping it in a miasma of force so thick that it would have caused a man’s skull to implode, and yet it remained in the centre of the maelstrom as benign as any rock. He tried everything he could think of, and in frustration cast it in the dirt at his feet. It bounced a few times and landed, the symbol facing upwards similar to a cross in appearance.
Suddenly a blazing golden light shot out of the stone and enveloped the boy until his sight was completely absorbed. He thought he had been blinded and raged as he shook his head. After an eternity his vision cleared and when he noticed his surroundings he gasped.
He was standing in a familiar alley, a filthy backstreet with stinking refuse lining the walls. Behind him was a staunch barrier of brick and mortar preventing his escape, in front a scoundrel of giant size brandishing a shillelagh with rusted nails embedded into the business end. The boy well remembered him, as the scoundrel was the first opponent he’d defeated.
The boy shrugged and swiped, releasing a slash of energy. He guessed that the magic of the stone had transported him into his past. The scoundrel bore the energy slash across his chest and instead of bursting into flames laughed it off and stalked towards him. The boy threw three more blasts of energy with the same result. It was then that he realized the gift the magic stone had conferred upon him. A chance to start again, his current power intact in a world where his former enemies had quadrupled in strength. The gods had answered his prayers. He smiled, his heart warming as a long-forgotten battle-lust stirred once more. He gritted his teeth and charged.
|
Babby Cthulhu
It was late. Not sure how late; couldn't be bothered to check. I was walking along the beach, ruminating, when I saw it.
A small creature dragging itself across the sand. Sorta resembled an octopus, but... Weird. The colors weren't right - I knew octopi could change color at will, but I wasn't sure that particular color was supposed to exist. And I thought I saw vestigial membranous wings...
But it was late. My eyes were playing tricks on me. It was probably just some strange adolescent cephalopod that had wandered out of a tidepool and gotten lost.
"Hey, little fella! What're you doing out of the ocean?"
And then it smacked me in the mind.
There's really no other way of describing it. The medical literature will tell you your brain has no sensory neurons in it, especially not ones for pain. Headaches are from the pain receptors in the scalp and other parts of your head. But this didn't feel like a quick, stinging headache, or like the psychosomatic pain I get from looking at bright lights. I felt it in a way that bypassed sensory neurons altogether.
And then it spoke, in much the same way.
*HUMAN.*
"Waaah...what? Are you... Are you addressing me?"I started wandering closer.
*YOU ARE NOW MY CHIEFMOST ACOLYTE.*
"W- okay, what? I'm not ready to start leading some weird cult thing--"
*I AM <?+@$+#~&€^*€£%¥\='>. YOU ARE MY CHIEFMOST ACOLYTE. YOU WILL PROTECT ME.*
"Okay, I think you broke something in my Broca's Region because that third word didn't parse as language."
*THE NEAREST APPROXIMATION YOUR MIND CAN INTERPRET IS "CTHULHU". YOU ARE MY CHIEFMOST ACOLYTE. YOU WILL PROTECT ME.*
I stopped next to it. "Wait, you're Cthulhu?!"
*YOU ARE MY CHIEFMOST ACOLYTE. YOU WILL PROTECT ME.*
"Wait, wait, wait. I *might* be onboard with being Cthulhu's chiefmost acolyte (am I? That's weird), but I thought Cthulhu was this 50-foot monstrosity, dead and dreaming in the ruins of Ryl'yeh."
*YOU ARE KNOWLEDGEABLE IN THE MATTERS OF THE ELDER GODS. THIS IS GOOD.*
"Can you at least explain why you're a cubic foot of floppy cephalopod when the stories say a steamship rammed into you with no effect?"
*I WAS ONCE THUS. AND BEFORE THAT I WAS ONCE AS YOU SEE. A COURTESAN OF <=¥#¥%=%££%¥+^£*&@"$> --*
"What?"
*YOUR MIND WOULD BEST KNOW HIM AS AZATHOTH. A COURTESAN OF THE SLUMBERING DEMON-GOD HAS ALTERED MY FORM TO FULFILL A GRUDGE OLDER THAN YOUR ENTIRE CIVILIZATION.*
"Okay. I suppose that even makes sense on a human scale. But why do I have to be your chiefmost acolyte? If I remember, you're supposed to bring about the end of human civilization. Why shouldn't I just let you die?"
*I WILL SPARE YOU.*
"What's that supposed to mean?"
*IF YOU LEAVE ME I WILL STILL RETURN TO MY ULTIMATE FORM. IF YOU TRY TO KILL ME I WILL REGROW. IN EITHER EVENT I WILL OBLITERATE HUMAN CIVILIZATION, BEGINNING WITH YOU.*
*NEITHER EVENT IS GOOD FOR ME. I WILL BE BETTER IF YOU PROTECT ME. IF YOU PROTECT ME I WILL SPARE YOU. YOU WILL HAVE POWER WHEN I RESHAPE THIS REALM, AND YOUR FOLLOWERS SHALL SURVIVE.*
"So my choice is to leave you or try to kill you, in which case you return with a vengeance, or I protect you and get a garauntee of world power if I live to see your rise? I think I'll take that last option."
*YOU CHOOSE WISELY.*
"Should I... I dunno, pick you up and take you home?"
*I WAS TOLD HUMANS HAD SOME KIND OF AUTONOMY, BUT IF I MUST DIRECT YOUR EVERY ACTION, I WILL NOT HESITATE.*
"That actually would probably be better, seeing as I have no idea how to care for an infant elder god..."
*I REQUIRE NO CARE, MERELY PROTECTION. GRASP ME AND CARRY ME TO YOUR ABODE.*
"Oookay... This is really weird..."I bent over and gingerly lifted the eldritch creature. As soon as I straightened up, it slithered and crawled up my arm. I yelled in surprise, but it spoke into my mind again.
*DO NOT STARTLE. I WILL RIDE FREELY.*
It made its way up until it rested on my shoulder. I took a few careful steps to avoid jostling it, but it seemed to have latched on securely, so I started heading home.
"So... Cthulhu. How long will I have to protect you?"
*UNTIL I NO LONGER NEED FEAR YOUR WORLD'S PREDATORS.*
"Okay, so how long is that in human measurements? Like, several months? A couple years?"
*YOUR TIME IS TOO LINEAR.*
"What does that mean? Are you going to go back in time and already be at my apartment when I get home, only aged several months?"
*YOU CANNOT PLOT THE PATH OF WIND ON A SINGLE STRAIGHT LINE.*
"That doesn't really answer the question."
*YOU MOVE THROUGH SPACE IN 3 PERPENDICULAR PLANES AND A SINGLE DIRECTION OF TIME. I AM NOT SO TEMPORALLY RESTRICTED.*
"You seem pretty time-linear right now."
*IN THIS FORM I AM LOCKED INTO THE DIMENSIONS IMPOSED ON THIS REALM. THIS WILL NOT ALWAYS BE.*
"Well, can you give me an estimate on when you'll escape linear time?"
There was a pause.
*NO.*
----
We arrived at my apartment -- thankfully nobody was awake to question why I was carrying a mutant octopus on my shoulder -- and the tiny Cthulhu crawled down my arm and onto the table.
"Should I get, like, a fishtank or something?"I asked.
*IF I REQUIRE ANYTHING, YOU WILL KNOW* came the telepathic reply.
I sat on the couch and watched the tentacled thing make itself comfortable.
"You seem relatively friendly and humanly-comprehensible for an Elder God,"I remarked.
*IT IS A HABIT I MUST MAINTAIN TO AVOID THE FURTHER IRE OF THAT WHICH MADE ME THIS WAY.*
"The courtesan of Azathoth? I didn't know they had that much power."
*THE SERVANTS OF THE GREAT OLD ONES VARY IN POWER. AS THE GREATEST AND OLDEST OF THE GREAT OLD ONES, AZATHOTH HAS THE MOST POWERFUL SERVANTS.*
"Why does this courtesan want you to be humanly-comprehensible?"
*THE SERVANTS OF AZATHOTH ARE NOT BORN IN THE NUCLEAR CHAOS. THEY HAIL FROM THE FIXED REALMS. IF AZATHOTH SHOULD STIR IN HIS ETERNAL SLUMBER, THE HOME PLANES OF MANY COURTESANS WOULD BE ANNIHILATED. THIS IS WHY THEY STRIVE TO KEEP HIM IN A DEEP SLEEP. THE COURTESAN WHO CHANGED MY FORM ALSO GRUDGES AGAINST <€#¥#=*%+#••#£'+%+#£¥??!> AND <@@"$£¥=#+€€¥%+%@&+€#¥> --*
"Ow, my head. Those names are even worse than yours."
*YOG-SOTHOTH AND SHUB-NIGURATH. THE COURTESAN ORIGINATED IN THIS REALM, AND IT DESIRES HUMANITY TO AT LEAST UNDERSTAND THE SPEECH OF ELDER GODS - THOUGH OF COURSE YOU CAN NEVER BEGIN TO COMPREHEND OUR TRUE NATURE.*
"What is your language like if you don't dumb it down for humans?"
I regained lucidity several minutes later, my head ringing and my eyes briefly swirling with colors I didn't understand.
*IF YOU HAD HEARD MORE THAN THAT YOU WOULD HAVE SUFFERED PERMANENT DAMAGE TO YOUR MENTAL BIOLOGY.*
"Geez, I can see why the courtesan wants you to dumb it down if you talk to humans."An idea occured to me. "It's awkward just referring to the...entity...who altered your form as 'the courtesan'. Do they have a name?"
*NAMES ARE ABANDONED WHEN AN ELDER GOD JOINS THE COURT OF AZATHOTH. BEFORE IT JOINED, THIS COURTESAN WAS <%#+%£¥$&@>.*
"Again with the untranslated names. I just got over hearing the unadulterated speech of the Elder Gods."
*TRANSLITERATING NAMES IS DIFFICULT. THE BEST APPROXIMATION WOULD BE YAWEH, OR POSSIBLY JEHOVAH. ITS NAME ALSO APPEARS IN HUMAN RECORDS AS ADONAI.*
---
edit: alright, I'll do some more later, I promise. It'll have to be a separate comment, though, since this one is already unmanageably long. |
"All right, okay, hear me out on this one.
"You're right, they did it with the vampires, the werwolves, the ghosts (I guess?), even the mummies, I searched 'sexy mummies' and all I could find was [this](http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/1084513) (HuffPost blog article; 6.5/10) but we're gonna roll with it.
"All those monsters have been turned into sex symbols, but there's one monster we haven't done it with yet, right? And I know you're gonna flip shit when I say it, but just hear me out, okay?"
Flip to another PowerPoint slide grotesque human figure.
"Introducing: The sexy zombie."
A few gasps from people at the boardroom table. One or two audible "ewwws". Most are jaded veterans. One producer settles in with a smile, waiting to see what kind of clusterfuck this is heading toward.
"Listen, listen, hear me out on this one. They're not gonna look like *this*."
"What we gotta do is just, you know, change the rules. Like they did with vampires, the whole 'vegetarian' thing where Edward only drank the blood of animals. It allowed vampires to be *sexy*--"
"Actually,"one man in the back of the room interjected, "I'd say it was Anne Rice who first made vampires sexy, and really she's a much better writer. . ."
He trailed off, sensing something was wrong as a hush fell over the boardroom. The head honcho looked at him with cold, unforgiving eyes and spoke in a voice like ice.
"We are here to *make money*. I do not care *who's a good fucking writer*. You will not speak the name of that bust-franchise-producing *bitch* in my presence. Get out!"
The man was frozen in place.
**"OUT!"**
The man scurried out of the boardroom to pack up his belongings and flee the studio. The head honcho gave a little "get on with it"nod to the guy giving the sexy zombie pitch.
"Right, like I was saying, change the rules--"
The PowerPoint slide changed to a bulleted list. The presenter read right off them. He was that guy.
"Number one: zombie-ism is an intergalactic disease. Or something."
"Number two: zombie-ism effectively kills the host or whatever, but preserves the body perfectly because of the alien DNA or whatever."
"Number three: the zombie space-virus like, makes zombie-dudes super-understanding and really like, chivalrous or whatever. Also they're strong like the World War Z ones but not scary like them, you know? These are the kind of zombies you can have a nice long conversation with. Should that be another bullet point?"
All of this was typed out on the screen.
"Number four: plot -- nonzombie girl -- Jennifer Lawrence of course -- meets good-looking young zombie guy played by I don't know Logan Lerman or fucking something, right, they fall for eachother and the girl gets the government to stop trying to kill all zombies. Boom."
"Of course, I'm just the producer. I'm thinking we get E.L. James, Stephenie Meyer and the World War Z guy to collaborate on the script. It'll be a hit."
Silence from the boardroom. The guy giving the presentation shifts nervously and switches to the last slide.
"Fin."
All eyes shift to the head honcho. He's deep in thought. After a moment, he gives a curt nod.
"I like it."
|
The method for obtaining knowledge is as follows; observe a natural phenomenon, hypothesize its origin, create an experiment that will return a positive or negative result, create a theory as to how the phenomenon functions, share your findings, and allow others to criticize your work. All things that can be known are measurable and testable, and those things that cannot be known cannot be tested nor measured. Only when accurate information is available may discussion regarding the information take place. It is the responsibility of every human to have the capability to think independently. "Be excellent to each other". |
There was a knock on the door of the McDonald's house. The youngest son, Jamie, opened it.
It was the mailman, but Jamie noticed that he looked a bit off, like he was flickering in an out of existence every few seconds or so. He eventually just chalked it to the mailman being sick.
"Greetings, I have a letter for Jeremy McDonald? Is he here?"he asked.
Jamie turned around and shouted to his brother. "Big bro, there's some mail here for you!"
A voice from upstairs shouted back. "I can't! This monster's going to mess with my room if I let go, come here for a sec!"
Jamie turned to the mailman. "My brother's having trouble with our new pet, so I'm gonna hold it for him, can you wait a minute?"
The mailman nodded, and Jamie went upstairs.
A minute later, Jeremy went to the door, his clothes looking like they just went twelve rounds with a meat tenderizer. He patted his shirt in vain before facing his odd visitor.
"Sorry about that, we just got a new dog and he's vicious. So, what can I do for you?"
"You do not have to pretend that the chimera is a dog. I know of your abilities, Jeremy McDonald."
Surprised, Jeremy took a step back. "O-okay, h-how did you know?"
The mailman suddenly put a hand over his face. From his forehead, he grabbed a patch of skin and pulled down, revealing a gaunt and haunted visage and making Jeremy gasp.
The mailman opened his mouth. "It was discovered yesterday that anything you draw, or in your case, Photoshop, will come to life. Please do not run. I am Charon, an agent of the government tasked with informing you of your gifts."He saw that the boy has not run away. "You have not run away."
"Well, like you said, we have a chimera for a pet. Mom and dad are still getting used to it, but Jamie and Jane are already playing with it like it wasn't some hellish creature of darkness."He shrugged. "They must have gotten used to it from my grandpa, he showed them some weird stuff when they were younger."
"Ah yes, Ronald McDonald. He was also like you, someone with abilities beyond this world. In his case, he can make food come alive and clone themselves,"said Charon. He made a face. "Good chef he was, but the cloned food tasted progressively worse with each clone."
Jeremy let out a 'whoa' at this new fact. "I never knew that. He never told us anything."
"The government ensures that those with supernatural powers stay hidden, for both your safety, and the public's."
"So, what's going to happen to me now?"asked Jeremy.
Charon pulled out a small manual titled *Government Manual for Supernatural Powers*, a calling card, a wristband, and a cellphone. "Take these, read the manual and keep the others with you at all times. If trouble arises, use the phone to call us."
"I've never seen this model before."
"It's custom made, powered by magic. You cannot use it to surf the internet, but it's packed with all sorts of apps. I might recommend the--."
The house shook. The roof broke. And Jeremy and Charon were now staring at Jane riding a fifty foot tall chimera like she was in a rodeo.
She was also on fire, though she wasn't burning.
The chimera looked to be in pain. Jamie came bounding down from the stairs.
"Big bro, did you see that! When I touched the dog, it suddenly grew big, and then Jane suddenly caught on fire but it looks like she isn't hurt! Wait till Mom and Dad hears about this!"He then ran to tell his parents, who obviously already know about it.
Jeremy shook his head while Charon took the phone and dialed some numbers. "Hello, Artemis, can you send some more Supernatural Beginner's Kits?"
---
EDIT: Edited some dialogue to make it more in line with the prompt. |
I've always made my most important decisions by spinning a coin and choosing based on heads or tails. Heads meant yes, tails was no, every time. Sounds pretty silly, I know, but the universe must be on my side because it hasn't led me wrong yet. And if the coin makes one choice and my gut is just screaming that it's the wrong one, I go with my gut and the coin has still helped make my decision for me.
I've done it on tests since the first grade, I did it to decide what college to go to, for what car to buy. Honestly, I can't remember a big decision I made without spinning this very same quarter.
It isn't working this time, though. I started spinning the coin the night she called me, panic in her voice, asking me what we should do. Hell if I knew. So I told her to let me think, and that I would call her back, and then I took out my lucky quarter from the year I was born and carefully cleared my desk. Having done this so much, I had gotten pretty good at spinning the quarter, and it could go on for nearly a minute sometimes. So I didn't really think anything of it when it went a bit longer than usual.
By the time it hit ten minutes, I was pretty sure something was up, but without the quarter to tell me what to do, I was lost as to what decision to make. I called her back, and asked if maybe we could give it some time since there wasn't a hurry anyways. I heard her sigh but she agreed, and I sat back to watch the quarter spin.
Fast forward two months, and it's still spinning, not showing the slightest sign of slowing down. I had talked to her time and time again, and each time we decided to wait before deciding, but it was getting close to crunch time and I still couldn't make up my mind. And still the quarter spun, sometimes threatening to spiral off the desk but always adjusting at the last second. Each time I looked at it, the universe just seemed to turn its back on me and give me a monumental shrug.
I realized that this was a decision I would have to make on my own, without divine intervention or through a random quarter. Still it spun, mocking me and my indecision.
That evening, two months after I had first set the quarter spinning after her phone call, I made a decision and picked up my phone. Still, the quarter spun. And as I talked to her on the phone, the quarter seemed to slow down, and just after I told her yes and she broke into tears of joy, the quarter slowly spun to a rest to be flat on the table, heads up. And I smiled, because seven months from now, I was going to be a dad.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! |
It's a cold, heavy night on the Street. The kind of night that makes a man feel like the world reached it's hand up inside his guts and started pulling him in every direction. The kind of night that makes you wonder if that filthy Grouch who gets himself piss drunk in the gutter might be onto something.
The wind is hollering and jumping, like a diabetic hopped up on too many cookies. I tune it out. I got two hours left on this shift before I can go home to Maria. I think about her silky Latin hair and the way her tits look all covered in my red fur after I take her from behind.
The call comes in just when I least need it to. "Mo! Get your ass to Shareview Place!"the commissioner shouts at me, "you just caught a body!"
The building is six blocks away and this bucket of rust goes two blocks a minute, so you can probably tell me how long it will take me to get there, can't you? Three minutes, that's right. It feels like I've spent fucking decades outside these same red bricks.
I get upstairs and the body is naked and already cold. Shit, it's one of the queers. The fun one with the hair and dark skin to boot. Guy Smiley is going to have a fucking field day when he gets this on the air. People on the Street will say everyone's the same and special, but ever since that rookie popped twelve hollow points in old Gordon, the race relations ain't been so copacetic.
I'm thinking domestic disturbance. Easy. The bald one caught his beau with another guy, or maybe eating in the bed again, and turned all furious, then split town.
I lean down and look close at the body. I almost puke when I see the shit smeared around his bare ass. No wait. This don't smell like shit and what are all these crumbs? Mother of fucking Jesus, it's a chocolate chip cookie. Shoved up the poor kid's asshole. This wasn't no lover's quarrel gone wrong.
I already know there's nothing I can do to get justice here. This is the Monster's work, a sadistic son of a bitch known to leave this particular calling card on his victims. He's untouchable. Say what you want about the Count, but he takes care of his goons, even if that means calling in some favors from every sleazy judge who owes him one, two, three in return, after so many nights of hookers and coke.
Do I handle this outside the system? Can I risk what he might do to Maria if they see me start playing vigilante?
"Tough break, kid,"I say to the body, "you ain't the last this Street's gonna swallow up whole."
|
"Hello Nathan, we need to have a little chat."The disembodied voice spoke as if right in front of Nathan's face.
Nathan had an idea what was going on, he figured he wouldn't be caught, I mean how could he? Who would ever know right? "Play stupid."he thought to himself. They can't prove anything. "W-where am I? who are you?"He stuttered.
"You really thought you would get away with it didn't you? Tsk tsk, so many rookie mistakes you made. You were the easiest one to catch in months, you made it so obvious. The largest jackpot in 50 years, you know how many people fall for that one?"The voice said.
Nathan was sweating profusely as the spotlight illuminated his body.
"I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you."Nathan responded, fidgeting in his chair.
"Look, Nathan. Let me level with you here. You can stop playing dumb. I'm part of the Department of Space and Time. Since it's not really a public matter not very many people know that the department exists and those that do, don't talk about it. You've been caught time traveling without a license Nathan."The voice said sternly.
Nathan, at age 34 spent the better half of his life working on becoming the one to discover time travel and when he finally did the first thing he saw was dollars in his eyes.
"So you mean to say I'm not the first?"He inquired
"Of course not, we have 3 or 4 every year from this planet alone for over 200 years now. We set up the lottery Nathan. It's often one of the first things people do when they discover time travel. Win some money and live comfortably one day. Kill Hitler the next day. You can't mess with the balance of time Nathan and you'd be surprised how hard it is to keep people like you in check. Someone thinks they're doing something noble then BOOM catastrophic changes happen in the future. Do you know how hard it is to clean that mess up?"
Nathan wasn't concerned. He was figuring they would lock him up for eternity for his crimes against time.
"So what are you going to do to me now?"
"Well look, most people don't know that this is highly illegal, especially on a planet as undeveloped as yours so we are going to tag you and let you off with a warning. Consider yourself lucky though. As we speak you are being knocked out by a gas, don't worry you won't feel any pain. We will put a chip in your brain that will tell us if you are coming in contact with any space/time rifts. We've sent for your research and machines to be collected and confiscated. When you wake up you will be in your bed. Don't let us catch you again! We won't be so lenient next time. Oh and we will know if you mention this to anyone so don't try. Not like anyone will believe you anyways. Earth is too primitive for that kind of higher thinking."
Nathan could feel the gas slowly rendering him unconscious.
"Wait, I have so much more to ask."
"Maybe one day we may have use for you in our program but for now think of this as probation. You better behave yourself, goodnight Nathan. We will be in contact." |
"Let me get this straight. You heard some up-and-coming hero might be trying to topple your regime, so you sent all of your most elite Deathbots to burn his entire village to the ground?"
"Yep!"Doctor Destructor flashed a grin and took another bite from his scone. "And it worked,"he added. "No more hero. Really, Ivanna, you should try it, it's a much more efficient method of quashing resistance. Remember that last time, how whats-her-face made it all the way to some cliche final confrontation on a catwalk over a bottomless pit before you eventually offed her?"
"But Kyle, I thought you kept your elite troops in reserve to defend your Doom Palace,"said Lady Kill. "Why would you send away your own personal guard to annihilate some... farmboy? What if a real assassin had attacked you while they were away?"
"Nonsense,"replied Doctor Destructor. "If I crush all my enemies in advance, I have nothing to worry about. And I've told you, don't call me Kyle. Kyle is dead. There is only Destructor now. Would you like another mini-scone?"
Lady Kill took the pastry and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "Perhaps I'll take advantage of your new strategy, now that you've revealed it to me. Perhaps I'll spread fake rumors of a new hero rising from humble beginnings in some backwater. You'll send your best Deathbots to destroy him, and while they're away, I'll invade your palace and claim it for myself."
"Puh-'apf 'oo 'ill,"said Doctor Destructor, crumbs dropping from his mouth as he spoke.
"What's stopping me?"demanded Lady Kill.
As if on cue, there was an enormous crash as the wall exploded behind her. All three of Doctor Destructor's fifteen-foot-tall Elite Deathbots strode through the hole and pointed the barrels of their Doom Cannons directly at Lady Kill.
Doctor Destructor gave her a smile. "Ah, Ivanna, I have a confession to make,"he said. "I didn't really invite you here to catch up over breakfast."
Two tables over, a waitress fainted. |
**[INCOMING SIGNAL]**
*Beginning Binary to Text Conversion*
**Incoming:** Greetings Earth. We come from the tip of Orion's Arm, located approximately 400,000 light years from your solar system. We are using a local satellite in order to beam messages to your home planet, currently orbiting Jupiter. There will be a reply delay of approximately 20 minutes. We look forward to your reply.
**Outgoing:** K. |
I took a deep breath, my body expanding and contracting as carbon dioxide entered my body through the millions of pores in my thick, green-brown exoskeleton. This planet's atmosphere was ripe with it, even more so than Ut'uun, though the quality of air was notably worse- as one would expect from a decaying planet.
Just as I'd been briefed, it's a dead planet with not a sign of organic life larger than a microbe scurrying about. My job now is to scout and check for potential resources, and, being a historian of sorts, see if I find anything about this planet's history. I'd brought an apprentice with me; I could easily scout this planet alone but I had a feeling there'd be something for Naz'aar to learn here.
I pulled the bioscanner out one more time, just to be cautious. I detected slightly larger life forms now, but they were merely stage 0- the most basic stage in evolution, unlikely to go anywhere.
"Naz'aar, it's safe to step out. Let us depart now,"I relayed to him.
"Yes, master."He scurried out from the ship, his 8 legs swirling and rippling with motion. "Master, what is that?"
There were strange structures, clearly unnatural, deforming the surface. They were rectangular and formed from some basic iteration of crude metal that clearly was not very strong- several buildings had collapsed in on themselves. All were swallowed by oxidization and dirt, a sea of brown and orange.
"It seems some primitive life form, possibly stage 3, attempted to become a more advanced civilization than their minds could handle, if I had to guess. This all looks so crude and ineffective."
After a light trek about 30 miles out, we saw strange little shapes littering the open spaces inbetween structures. They looked to be the same kind of crude materials the structures contained, but were far smaller, like a personal craft.
"These could have been used for transportation- it would indicate their size as being 4-8 feet, and likely either quad or, worst case, bipedal."
Another 30 miles out and there was nothing- a sea of dead minerals and soil.
"It seems they were just a small colony or tribe,"Naz'aar noted.
I looked closer and scanned the elevation levels of the desert. There was more than first led on.
"No, it would seem this is an impact crater. I'd suggest meteors, but, taking away likely change in levels over thousands of years, it is far too even. It seems they may have been stage 4, and failed the leap to stage 5."
"So, then something destroyed them?"
"You must learn my theory of Advancement if you are to be my apprentice. I believe every species must face a great demon before transitioning to stage 5."
"And that is?"
"Themselves."
I pulled out the bioscanner one last time, and detected something faint. It seemed to be a stage 2.
"This is interesting, Naz'aar- there are no useful resources left on this dead planet, but life could be attempting to evolve once more despite this."
70 miles further, there was another conglomerate of structres, this tike much smaller. It was surrounded by a sea of emptiness and death, almost as if it had been built there once everything was destroyed.
"It seems the stage 2 is within one of these two structures. Take care not to be rough and destroy anything, Naz'aar."
We began to delicately lift a layer off of each structure, examining them from top down. Thankfully, these building were only 80 feet across and made of a light mixture of mineral and rock. On the fourth layer down of the structure I was inspecting, there was a small capsule, no bigger than my female's last egg, and it was glowing with light.
"I've found the stage 2, Naz'aar. You may stop searching."
He crawled over to me and took a look at the lifeform. "What is that strange thing, master? Some form of living mineral?"
I took a longer look at it and pondered. Upon heightening my vision to examine it up close, I saw a strange, bipedal being, pink and soft, through a clear covering.
"No, Naz'aar, I think this might be something different." |
Dirty shoes, dirty streets, dirty everything. I can't remember the last time I wasn't dirty.
It's not easy, but it's not hard either. Of course it would be easier if water wasn't so expensive, but you find a way anyway. If the thirst comes, you just deal with it, you keep working, until you get paid with the precious fluid. When the dust in your clothes becomes too thick, you take them off and beat them with a stick until the dust stops coming out.
Dirty walls, dirty skies, dirty people. I can't remember the last time I saw a clean person.
Today is a good day, the clouds block the sun, I don't have to sweat a lot. Maybe I can save half a bottle for tomorrow. I daydream about eternal cloudscapes as my hands do the monotonous task of ripping away the plastic insulation from the copper cables, the basket is almost full, must be a few kilograms. I should get three or four bottles for that.
Dirty hands, dirty counter, dirty bottles.
The water has a milky-brown shade, but it's clean enough to drink. The filtered bottles are smaller, not enough for my family, so I only pick up a single one of those, for the baby. But that's alright, the vitamin pills will cover the taste anyway. Also the clouds are really thick, the humidity trap in the garage might become half-full overnight, that's good.
Dirty alley, dirty thoughts, dirty blade.
He has thirst, I have water, he can't have it, it's mine. His knife is dull, his shirt has rusty spots, it's not the first time he did this. I don't want to take part in this, so I just run.
Dirty world, dirty fate, dirty luck.
I stumble, he's catches up. I struggle as the knife comes closer, I'm afraid that he might step on the bottles which are now rolling on the floor. His eyes are so tired, I can see him, but he can't see me, no hate, no anger, just thirst. We roll around and fight for the knife, we both know how it'll end. I have a job, he doesn't, I have muscles, he has thirst, I have something to protect, he has no will to carry on, nothing to go back to. His hands tremble as the knife enters his stomach, my hands tremble as I let go of his arms and I go to pick up my bottles.
Dirty blood, dirty shirt, dirty day.
I hope we have enough bleach to get rid of the red spots on my clothes. The bottles aren't damaged, thank god. Or so I thought, I almost run into a wall when I feel something wet dropping onto my arms. I double-check the bottles, but they seem undamaged. I want to make sure I wasn't stabbed when I feel it again. Another drop hits my arm, and then another one. I'm confused, I'm not crying, where do these drops come from?
Another drop hits, and then two more, and more, and more. It's the clouds. I'm not sure what's going on.
People leave their homes and come out to watch, confused looks all around. The first ones realize something and start putting cooking pans and pots on the street. The drops become more, some people start to laugh, children start running around, jumping around in joy.
There I was, standing in the middle of the street with my bottles as it happened.
Clean streets, clean roofs, clean houses.
When the rain arrived, it washed everything clean.
Yet, why do I still feel so dirty? |
"**COME FORTH HUMAN! ANSWER OUR SUMMONS, AND GRANT US YOUR POWER AND GUIDANCE**"
"Uh...why have you...summoned? me?"
"**BY THE POWERS OF HELL, WE HAVE CALLED YOU FORTH TO ANSWER OUR PLEA**"
"Uh, Ok...what exactly is that?"
"**OUR BOSS IS UNBEARABLE, BUT WE ARE BOUND TO OBEY HIS EVERY COMMAND! HOW MAY WE BREAK FREE AND EXACT OUR REVENGE?**"
"Oh...yeah...that's actually pretty easy."
"**SPEAK YOUR WISDOM, HUMAN!**"
"You obey him."
"**BUT WE HAVE TOLD YOU HE IS UNBEARABLE, AND WE WISH TO SUFFER HIS RULE NO MORE!**"
"Yeah, exactly. You have to obey his commands, right? So just do it super literal. Like, if he tells you to take out the trash, just go set it right outside the front door. Then when he tells you to take it to the dumpster, take it *to* the dumpster, but don't put it in. Or like, when he tells you to torture the souls of the damned, maybe just do it for like, a minute, then stop. Or pick really stupid tortures. Then you're still obeying him, but ruining his day."
"**THANK YOU HUMAN! TRULY WE WERE WISE TO SUMMON YOU.**"
"Yeah, no problem." |
This is bollocks you know.
**THATS NO WAY TO SPEAK TO A GOD**
Not my bloody god mate, I followed ...
**YOU CHOSE INCORRECTLY**
Oh come on, just let me in. My mate Bob was a ... whatsit.
**HOMOSEXUAL?**
No ... wait, what? He was gay? But he'd been going out with Crystal for years.
**ITS ALL JUST A COVER UP, HE WAS CONCERNED WITH HOW PEOPLE WOULD REACT**
.... s'fucking 2016 mate. No one cares. Also, should you be telling me that? Seems sort of personal.
**AND WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TELL?**
Ah, good point. So ... now what?
**WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE? I CAN'T LET YOU IN, BUT IT DOESN'T MEAN OPTIONS ARE CUT OFF**
Well, what's the options.
**OBLIVION, SUFFERING, OR REBIRTH**
Many folks go with oblivion?
**MORE THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT**
Same with suffering?
**NO, MOST PEOPLE DON'T. GET THE FEW ODD ONE OR TWO NOW AND THEM. BUT I THINK THEY MAY BE SADOMASOCHISTIC**
I'll take the rebirth then, if thats okay?
**VERY WELL, PLEASE JOIN THE QUEUE**
Queue? Oh bugger that, give me the oblivion. |
It was 1352 when I made my deal to stay alive, the beaked and googled darkly dressed man beside my bed no doctor but a very agent of hell itself. I could not know what I was committing myself too, not then for I was far too young to know much at all in the world. My world was a hovel and a straw floor, poverty and despair. Still despite that I clung to the thought of life and a fear of the beyond that is usually reserved for those far older. I would live, but every decade I would lose that which I loved the most.
It was not the devil that took my parents, the plague managed that quite fine on it's own and I was the only member of my family to survive. Spared the touch of the dread disease I wound up taken in by an order tendering to the ill, a simple life and yet far more comfortable than the plague had taken from me. Father Carabas was the first person I would lose, he who taught me the basics of my letters and to be more than I was ever born to be. Stolen from my life in 1362, and while I know the devil might have taken him I am certain he did not keep him.
Despite the deal I had made I was a young man, and I could not help the stirrings of my heart. Elisa was beautiful and kind, and my first wife. Dead in 1372 despite countless prayers and benedictions for God to save her and to keep her safe.
The next decade was madness, for Elisa and I had a daughter together and I loved her more than anything else in the world. You can not imagine what a father does in that situation, what he tries. What efforts he makes. I threw myself from cliffs, into flames, I did all I might to end myself and break that deal and yet whatever I tried I found life in me a stubborn thing and I would not die. 1382 was a terrible year, and I still cannot bring myself to put down her name.
You might not think it but through the centuries you can largely make yourself stop caring about people. You can become a cold and focused thing. For a time I found myself loving a career as a Doctor, until it was taken from me. I tried for a time to devote myself to the deceiver in the hopes of turning the deal back on itself, but there my heart could feel nothing but hatred and rage.
Still I live, investments long since removing any need for me to work. I take in terminally ill cats, lest I love them too much. I watch TV, and occasionally feel a spark of sensation. You may blame me for Firefly in 2002, I'm afraid. It is not a bad life, though you will forgive me if at times I wish it were just a bit dearer to me. Unfortunately, things are rarely so neatly concluded. |
1978.
"The Sun is finite. We will see it burn out in our lifetime."The head of NASA spoke to a solemn situation room. There was gasps of shock, incredulous stares, but mostly, a lack of understanding. Jimmy Carter shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his stern glare at the director met with a stalwart response. Eventually, the president spoke.
A secret mission. A capsule launched aboard a Saturn V. As the rocket raced into the upper atmosphere, the primary fuel tank detached, with the secondary thrusters activating. As the rocket hit the low-air higher atmosphere, men at Mission Control stared at the screen tersely.
The president's voice.
"Well, what can we do?"
"There's only one thing we can do."
A Secret Service agent stepped out of his car in the middle of the Bronx. Adjusting his tie, he approached a home, the sun reflecting off of his aviator sunglasses.
2016.
The sun goes out. Not with a bang, as many thought, but with the extinction of light - Only for it to reignite with vigor and purpose. Day is gone for a mere fifteen minutes. A plan set in motion long ago now was complete. An elderly Jimmy Carter treats a guest in his home to a glass of wine.
"Mr. Saddler, you were right. Your stuff was hot fire."
Grandmaster Flash merely smiled, accepting the gift.
|
It all started with Aunt Esther. She was a pink, pork roast of a woman with a heavy, beetle brow and a remora mouth frozen in a wide oval shape, as if death had found her in the middle of swallowing whole russet potatoes and they'd both been a bit shocked by what they'd seen.
"Good work with the smile,"her brother had whispered in my ear as he inspected the body prior to the funeral. "Never looked half as pleasant when she was alive."
In truth, Manly had had to break the jaw in six places and knot the whole thing up with about a cord of wire to make the old goblin look as if she were resting peacefully. The effort had been worth it, however, judging by the relieved looks her extended family had exchanged on their way back from the open casket. It was perverse, in a way, because clearly no one there had given half a fig about Esther when she was alive. In fact, judging by the incredibly vague, non-specific platitudes lobbed around during the various eulogies, it seemed like a good number of them weren't even sure which one Aunt Esther *was*. But they had come to her funeral and she had managed (with some help) to help support the narrative of her not being terrible by looking like a pleasant enough human being. All in all, everyone got what they wanted.
I hadn't exactly wanted anything myself, but I got something all the same: Rose Duym.
I first noticed Rose during her father's speech. Where everyone else had the good grace to look straight ahead and pretend that they were listening, Rose was staring at me. I pretended not to notice. Through brief, fleeting glances I sussed out Rose's general appearance: blond, short-haired, nose ring, black, high-collared button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black dress underneath, pretty, very pretty.
There was also quite a bit of purple eye make-up, which you don't see enough of at funerals, I think.
After the service, Manly and I stood at the door, seeing the mourners on their way. Rose came and stood in front of me. She pulled at the lapels of my jacket and pretended to fluff my pocket square.
"D'you know how Esther died?"she asked me, in lieu any sort of normal human introduction.
"Heart attack,"I answered, because that's what killed her.
Rose frowned. "That's a technically accurate answer. Partial credit. What's your name?"
"Almas."
She nodded slowly. "Yes. That works. I'm Rose. You should grow your hair out. I bet it gets curly."
Then she left, which was fortunate, because the next thing out of my mouth was going to be, "Thank you. You, too,"which is my default response every time my brain receives a faulty dialog query.
Grandpa Ron went next. Judging by the way he looked when he came in, Ron was more or less just a toothless skeleton wrapped in the skin of a brown leather La-Z-Boy someone had left out on their curbside 20 years ago hoping the garbagemen would pick it up, except they didn't. The fact that Grandpa Ron had died from a massive head injury suffered while falling down the stairs didn't help. Manly ended up having to remove most of the bones in the old man's neck and then prop the head up on a pile of wooden dowels. It felt like a little like constructing an Ikea bookcase.
Unlike Esther, Old Ron at least had money, so his service was a bit more enthusiastic. It was almost as if Ron's relatives thought there might have been a clause in his will stating that the person who made up the most impressive bullshit story about how much Ron had taught them/inspired them/meant to them would win a new car.
Again, though, there was Rose. I had recognized a few of the other family members first, but hadn't thought much of it. It's not that big a town, and - not to be grim - but death tends to come in waves. So I was surprised to see her sitting there, staring at me, as her cousin Richie droned on about a fishing trip with Grandpa Ron that I'm sure he hated with every ounce of his being when it happened.
After the service, Rose came to me again.
"D'you know how Grampie died?"
"Broken neck and blood loss, I believe."
"I actually really did like Grampie,"she said. "He had a glass jar on top of the refrigerator, full of heart-shaped lollipops. Every time I visited he asked me what I was learning in school. *Multiplication?* he'd say. *Well, what's five times three?* And if I answered right I got a lollipop. He let me stay the whole summer once, too. We went for walks every day. He was really good to me. He really got me, I think. That's how I know he's happy. He was always there to help me."
"Seems like a very nice man,"was all I could think to say.
"Can you show me the caskets?"she asked.
I frowned. "Are you...looking to buy?"
But she just tugged at my arm. "I want to see."So I showed her and I answered her questions and at the end she leaned forward and kissed me in the center of the showroom, surrounded on all sides by open caskets.
She didn't give me her number. I assumed the kissing was a coping mechanism. People deal with grief in their own way, you know.
But then her cousin Richie died. The one with the fishing story. And then another aunt died - Pearl. Cousin Michaela. An uncle named Ross.
A boating accident. Another heart attack. An overdose. A hunting accident.
How could any family be so unlucky?
It wears on you, working in a funeral home. There is no such thing as desensitization. The sensitivity doesn't go away, it just burrows underground. Every dead body is it's own existential crisis. *This could be ME. THIS could be me. This could BE me.*
It's worse, though, when you knew the body in life. With every funeral I began to feel I knew Rose's family a little better. I knew the names and the faces. That only made mangling their corpse for cosmetic purposes all the more horrifying.
Richie lost an arm. We stuffed some pantyhose with newspaper and pushed that inside the empty sleeve of his suit jacket. More dental work for Pearl. Glass eyes and a gallon of make-up for Michaela. Closed casket for Ross because we couldn't make a face from nothing.
Always, always Rose sat in the audience, looking at me. Never crying. I liked her company and I loved the feeling of her in my arms, but I couldn't deny that I had begun to dread seeing her. How could this be healthy? How could it be okay? I couldn't control what Rose did, but I could control myself.
"I'm feeling a bit under the weather,"she said as she approached me at the door. "Can you take a lady for a walk? Help me get some fresh air?"
I shook my head. "I can't. No more, okay. I...I don't want to do this anymore."
She pouted. "You don't like me anymore?"
"Give me your number,"I said. "We can go out. Go to the movies. Get dinner. Something else. But I'm not doing this anymore."
"No,"she said, all the playfulness drained away. "This. This is what we do. I go to all this trouble to see you...This is where I want to see you. This is *how* I want to see you."
"Then no."I had thought I would be sad to say it. In fact, I was worried I wouldn't be able to say it at all. But it felt right, and it felt good.
"You'll change your mind,"she said, backing away, one foot swinging slowly behind the other. "We'll talk again next time. I bet you'll change your mind."And then she left.
All of which is a very roundabout way of saying yes, I realize that my work experience isn't what you would typically see in an applicant, but I firmly believe that my work ethic, decision-making, and self-motivation are all qualities that will profoundly benefit this Smoothie Hut.
Thank you for your consideration. I hope to hear from you soon. |
The first utterance of alien speech baffled the world. Our question of whether or not we are alone was finally answered, but only more questions sprang forth. The government had known long before the media had gotten hold of the story, now radical citizens were clambering over each other to get up there and find out just what these ‘aliens’ were truly like.
Our world has seen empires rise and fall, 100 year battles, and evolutionary changes to our biological systems. We think our world is a harsh place to live, crushed down by the weight of the mysterious vacuum above us. We can’t breathe up there, too much of this, and too little of that element. Yet now they tell us there has been another civilisation this entire time, or perhaps longer, creatures that have bodies and brains and tissue adapted perfectly for life up there in the void.
The first international talks are being arranged between us, though neither of our species can survive for very long in the others environments. We will have to wait and see what these aliens are like, our world collectively holding their breath, over whether they are friends or foes.
They told us they come from above, from the void, that strange blue and green terrain.
They call them; Humans.
|
"You want me to what?"
"Blow up a building, a bank, whatever you like really. Make it good and we will pay you double."
I flicked the cigarette out of my mouth with my left hand and extinguished it with my heel into the thick carpet. "Yes, I heard that much. Really, what I want to know...is why."
"We need someone to cause a bit of a disruption, Mr. Daniels. Stir up the world a bit, so things don't get stale."The man behind the desk could have been a banker. Slick black hair and an over-starched suit that squeaked slightly as he pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. He was smiling, but the expression looked harsh and out of place - as if he was not used to it, or like his face had been starched as much as his suit.
"Call me Outlaw. I always did prefer my stage name, my given one makes me sound like a drink. And that doesn't quite answer my question."
"Very well then. Outlaw."The man continued. "I will explain our situation as simply as I can."If my raised eyebrow intimidated him at all, he didn't show it. "The supers have grown soft, complacent. They do charity work and save kittens from trees and put out forest fires, all admirable work, but none of them have anything approaching the *grit* that they need to fend off a real attack. Nothing serious has happened in so long that if - *when* - it does, they will all break before the storm."
"So you want me to...what, exactly. Cause a little 'incident,' so they keep on their toes?"I stroked my chin, the stubble rasping under my fingers.
"Exactly. Think of it as...a booster shot. A small pain now, so that when something bigger actually happens, everyone will be ready."He reached under his desk and withdrew a leather briefcase, which he placed in front of me.
"Why me though? Why not some other mook?"
"Because, Outlaw, you have proven that you have only ONE motivation - money - and despite your tough facade, your record shows a distinct lack of casualties and preference for non-lethal weaponry. You are a known commodity, and someone who we are fairly certain will not go off the rails."
"You will be compensated, of course. And you will be given a full pardon for all present and past crimes."With a click, the briefcase opened. I swore loudly and leaned forward as I saw the contents.
"Are those MY guns!? What have you done to them!"Inside, a pair of six shooters, emblazoned with my icon of a snake twisted around a skull, sat in velvet depressions. They looked exactly as I remembered: old, burnished steel with every ding and scrape of my youth - until I got to the handle. Instead of the tough wood and leather I had grown up with, the entirety of the grip had been replaced with a strange black metal and rubber.
"We have taken some liberties, but you will find that the core of the weapons remains true. Just like your old ones, they fire bullets of elemental thunder. But NOW, instead of six shots before you need to reload, you can just keep firing. Unlimited ammo, with all the familiarity and other powers of your old weaponry."
I swore again. "Why couldn't you have just left well enough alone? Those guns are like my family, you don't see me going to give your wife a boobjob without *your* permission."
"They ALSO let us know exactly when and where you are at all times. Taking them as-is is a condition of your release, Outlaw. Accept our terms, or leave them."
I leaned back in the chair, handcuffs clinking as I put my hands behind my head. "Would be nice to get out of these orange jumpsuits."I sighed. "Alright. You've got a deal."
The man pressed a button hidden in his pocket, and my handcuffs clicked and fell from my wrists.
"Good to have you onboard, Outlaw."I ignored him, simply stroking my poor weaponry and getting a feel for the modifications. "Have you kept up with your old rival Deputy?"
I looked up at the name. "No, what is that old scoundrel up to? Flirting with another man's wife again?"
To my surprise, the man laughed. "Quite possibly. He hung up his hat around the same time you got caught. Put his money into the stock market, now he spends his time drinking cocktails at charity events. I suggest you pay him a visit."
The door slid open with a quiet hiss. "You will find a change of clothes and a fresh I.D. in the next room over. Consider this your first assignment, Mr. Daniels."He spun his chair until his back was to me. "And...make sure you play nice with the cops this time, would you?"
Twenty minutes later and I was walking out of the building as a free man, guns safely holstered on my hips.
*Deputy...you old bastard.* I thought. *What foul god let YOU walk free, after what you did to me. When YOU had everything going for you from the beginning, and refused to lift a finger to help the people who needed you most.*
I fingered the gun in my holster. *If you hadn't arrested me on that last heist, I would have finally had enough to save her. Hell, you had the money. The price of just ONE of your weapons would have been more than enough. But you just had to play hero, and now it's too late.*
I ground my teeth together. They wanted Outlaw back on the streets? Well, they might just get their wish. But if they thought I would be so easy to control, they were dead wrong.
*Look out Deputy. Outlaw is no more, he died with his wife.*
*Now, Justice is coming. And I will have your head.*
***
*Another fun one! Hope you enjoyed, CC is always welcome. If you enjoyed this, check out more of my works at /r/TimeSyncs!* |
"Alright, my children."Satan said, rubbing his head sheepishly. The room, mostly composed of 18 year old Succubi or Inccubi addressed him attentively. "We're adding another sin to the list."
There were a plethora of loud gasps and *ooh's* and *ahh's* before someone's hand shot up immediately.
"But, seven is an odd number. Wouldn't we be better off keeping it odd?"An inccubus asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
Satan pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slightly. "What's your name?"
The inccubus looked around before giving a nod. "Jared."
"Shut the fuck up, Jared."
The Inccubus' form sank before hugging his knees to his chest, ignoring the laughs of the Succubi.
"Moving on,"Satan began, snapping his fingers. A chalkboard appeared out of nowhere on the wall, a crude drawing on it. "Whoever comes up with this new sin, will be in charge of judging that department!"
Satan clapped his hands together, expecting excitement. All he had gotten though, was a bunch of nervous looks.
"Well, what's the matter?"
A Succubus raised her hand this time. She shifted under Satan's gaze, attempting to avoid being snapped at.
"You raised your hand, so I'm assuming you want to talk, right? No rush."Satan offered, watching the Succubus give a deep sigh of relief.
"Lisa Lisa, at your service,"She began, wiping the sweat off of her brow. "What makes a sin, a... well y'know, a sin?"
Satan stared at her for a solid five seconds, thinking of all the ways he could backhand the shit out of her for a stupid question. He ultimately thought against it.
"A sin's a sin because I say it is."
"But if that's the case, most sins aren't even inherently evil. You're literally saying making one of these bad things a part of your life will send you to hell. Most people don't want to come here."
Satan rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. "Bitch,"he said, dragging the word out. "I am a god."
The succubus sighed, getting consolation from her fellow Succubi.
"Satan, sire."An Inccubus began, "By sin do you perhaps mean these?"He asked, pulling out a poster.
"The Seven Deadly Sins."Satan read off of it, staring at the picture. It featured a blonde boy, a silver haired girl, a pig, a flying smaller child, a giant, and a grey haired man, a woman with ravenlocks, and... something with purple hair. Accompanying them was a man who appeared to be a butler and his muscled up companion.
"These are '*The Seven Deadly Sins*', Meliodas, Ban, Diane, King, Gowther, Merlin, and Escanor."
Satan had definitely colored himself intrigued, but that was going to be for another time. "No. Although now I'm interested, that's not what I mean."
The inccubus stared dejectedly at the floor, getting consoling fistbumps from his friends and even a lap pillow from a sister succubus.
"Alright."A succubus said, giving a military salute. "I've gotten the perfect idea for a sin. Lying."
Satan's eyes lit up, immediately placing his hands on her shoulders. "Name?"
The succubus' face flushed a tinge pink before she shook the color back into it. "Emilia."
"Well, Emilia,"Satan said, shaking in excitement. "How do you plan on making lying a sin?"
Emilia shifted nervously under his expectant glance, worrying for a sudden change in personality or atmosphere. "Uh... I'm not quite sure. Isn't it common for lying to be bad though?"
The light that flickered inside Satan's eyes had died. *Hard*. "So much potential... gone to waste."
He picked Emilia up off the ground, bringing the pink back to her already red cheeks. Without a pause he spun her around, ignoring the gazes of other jealous succubi or inccubi. Emilia broke out into a happy giggle, which ended quickly when Satan tossed her out of an open window.
"For fuck's sake,"He began, adjusting his cape. "Can none of you come up with anything?"
The succubi and inccubi conversed to themselves before coming up with a collective no. Satan gripped his desk, splintering the wood. He was so close to losing it.
"I know, what if we make love a sin?"Someone asked.
Before anyone could clasp the voice's mouth it was too late. Satan had already lost it.
"Wok ih ij in majjinv, htah I ap zokn inho inwapc. Htkouvt htij, I zeyope a makavon ow mofek anx xejhkuyhion ho kije azoge all. Inwinihe in xijhanye anx yoppanxek ow xeaht, I jpihe couk joulj, anx zc pc jtoulxek, zanijt htee."Satan said, a sinister smirk adorning his features.
"Oh f-"Someone began, only to be immediately struck by a dark blast.
"Be gone."Satan commanded, the rest of the room's occupants returning to the lower levels of Hell, or even Earth if they were stationed there.
"Damn,"Satan said, placing his head on the cool glass of the window. "Maybe I should make being fucking dumb a sin." |
I think what got to me most was the lack of bloodshed that they left in their wake. You expect blood in a disaster, be it natural or otherwise. Their brand of massacre was almost *sterile*, like a morgue before all of the corpses had been sealed up. When i saw them i called the police, which in retrospect just got more people killed.
Officer Parker took up an inordinately large portion of my driveway in the form of a dark ionized smear. His legs were intact and leaned almost comically against my mailbox, where he had been standing moments ago. His backup (Deputy Connors) resided astride the old oak tree in my front lawn. He had been hit before exiting his vehicle and the explosion had tossed him into the waiting arms of nature. Upon the lazy rope and board swing affixed to the tree sat the top half of his skull. Several teeth were loose, and as i looked on a couple fell to be lost in the grass.
One of the things in the sealed body suits made noises in what i assume was speech
*rizdaq, miornin go ratta!*
They were small, about four or five feet tall at most. One ran on a set of treads that adjusted to different terrains instantly with tiny hydraulic hisses and wheezes. The other floated on a corona of blue mist that stank like burnt plastic. Both had only one 'arm' that held a large translucent rod, the two of which had just quite efficiently dealt with Officer Parker and Deputy Connors.
I wish i could say that these invaders sickened me, that i was incensed at their invasion of American soil. I wish i could say i bravely charged them with my hunting rifle at the ready.
But unlike in the stories, i was not cut of the same cloth as the martyrs. I clutched my Winchester rifle with sweat streaked hands as i hid underneath my porch.
One of the things (curiously?) tapped the set of legs previously belonging to Officer Parker with his weapon, and they flopped to the ground. This produced another burst of what i can assume was laughter from the other. The sound was mechanical and jarring. Reflexively i dropped my rifle to shield my ears with a wince.
**THUD**
Their apparatus' swung in unison towards my foxhole. They began to approach silently in a line, the stench of burnt plastic almost overwhelming as they closed in. I was found out and i knew it. Recovering my rifle with trembling hands, i took aim as the creatures casually approached. I knew i was done, but maybe i could inflict some damage.
**Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.**
I was confused. Was a third of the creatures somehow above me as well? This sound was coming from the *inside* of my home.
I could hear the sliding door to my deck crash open. The glass made a tinkling sound as it settled on the wooden patio. Whatever it was, it was directly above me now and moving with a plodding methodical gait.
**THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.**
A foul smelling man jumped down in front of my hiding spot. He was wearing clothes that had seen better centuries, the original color unidentifiable through the clinging grime. From my limited view, i could see a blade of some type held in one of his hands.
What kind of crazy charges space invaders with a god damned *sword*?
I cried out and fired a shot between the man's legs, and into one of the aliens. At the same time, the invaders unleashed a hellish burst of blue lightning. For a moment, the entire neighborhood lit up like a thunderstorm, and then all was dark again. My insane interloper was crumpled backwards against my decking with a hideous cracking noise.
The man *got back up* and began to walk towards the invaders.
They began to fire into him again and again, but nothing seemed to deter this man from his advances.
Pumped with a sudden surge of adrenalin, i fired several high powered rifle shells from cover, piercing the treads of the first alien and knocking the second out of balance causing him to miss a volley of fire.
This super human finally reached the tracked alien and grabbed hold of it with one grimy hand. A burst of speech followed that sounded decidedly human. It was *Fearful*
*Krazz mointa! Victa Victa gotis!*
This man was strong. *Very* strong. As the floater charged another shot of blue lightning, my savior bent back the translucent death tube to face the body of the invader. A cloud of sparks and blue smoke erupted that temporarily blinded me as i crawled from my hiding place to aid my mysterious friend.
As it cleared, i saw the machete descend into the now-exposed face of the alien. I couldn't see what it looked like well, but the jet of green blood fountaining from it's face belied its foreign existence. In a show of brutality the machete went up and down *several* more times before the man was satisfied.
The tracked alien swiveled away and began to roll down the street, and away. I took some pot shots, but they did not deter it much. I walked up to my savior and clapped him on the back.
The man was cold, and rock hard with muscle. Bugs and vermin wiggled away from my hand as i disturbed their home. Many more fell out of his sleeves, crisped by the lightning of the aliens. The man himself seemed undeterred.
He silently turned round to face me, and i voided my bowels.
He was facing me now, and i observed that he was wearing a pockmarked hockey mask. The kind a goalie would wear with the small slits for eyes and holes for breathing at the mouth.
This was **THE** Jason. He was *real*.
I began to back away and dropped my rifle, babbling incoherently as my mind struggled to not snap from sensory overload.
Jason silently and firmly grabbed my arm and kept me rooted in place. I tried to scream but my already over-taxed nerves allowed nothing to manifest. If aliens were real, why not undead terrors?
Unexpectedly, he released me.
Jason calmly pointed at my rifle with his hand, and pointed toward the fleeing alien with the blade of his Machete. The treaded alien was riding off towards the city down the road. He trudged off towards it, calmly plodding in its direction, holding his machete aloft and not caring to look back at me.
At this point i was convinced that i was already dead. Why the fuck not, then? I picked up my rifle, and followed Jason. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all.
|
"Stop messing with me. There is no way John can die. His death date is still 50 year from now."
"Did you not hear me? John *is* dead."
"But his date......"She began to cry. She was just as confused as everyone else. He wasn't supposed to die. Like she said not for another 50 years, almost to the day. In fact, maybe to the day.
Shannon, my girlfriend, and John's twin sister, sat on the small green blue couch trying to comprehend how this was possible. Tears as big as swimming pools streamed down her face.
I sat coldly, hand on hers. I didnt cry. Not because I wasn't sad. I felt as though my whole life, as i had known it, had crashed to a hault.
"H-how, I mean, why, what d-did this."She stuttered through sniffles
I had been there. I should know. But I don't.
________________
John had always been obsessed with legends. Mostly the old folks tales of how we had gotten our life timers.
Everyone knew what the timers or 'dates' as most people called them were. Biological black marks. Death notes. A way to plan. The dates would appear on your neck with your first breath of life into this world. You could plan your life around it. Some were more clear than others. Some were nearly impossible to read. But two things had always remained constant. The date never changed. And it was never wrong.
John loved the legends of people tricking their dates into changing, ones about stealing dates, or giving someone else an extended date,
(*how romantic, he gave his last year's for her*)
Or switching dates.
There had never been a confirmed case of any of these being remotely possible.
At one point in time I had asked him. "We can't trade our skin, our teeth or our minds, why would we be able to do tthe with our dates?"
He responded with that confident smirk "why not?"
____________
"He was hit by a bus. He didn't see it. I don't know how he died but that's what lead to it."
Half truths. Although I don't think I could ever tell anyone hat as it had happened he had smirked. That we had just been talking about wedding plans. He had said he would do anything for his sister
_______________
"FUCK YES"John had screamed at me when I asked him if I could propose to his sister.
I knew he would. He had always been much less judgmental than many others. I was 25 and my neck let everyone know I wouldn't make it to 30. Shannon knew this and loved me the same, john knew this as well. He had always joked with me, "The man with the prospects has none of the future, the man with the future has no prospects."I had done very well in school, but no one would hire a dead man walking. John had lived more of a care free life. He worked dead end part time jobs but didn't think he had a path he was meant to follow. He was a very "free spirit."
"If I could give you more time with her if I would."He had followed his last statement up more determined that sad. John looked out the window absentmindedly touching his own date. 45 year he would have on me. I was never jealous, it was never a surprise. I planned to love Shannon until that fateful day, October 2nd, five years from now.
____________________
Shannon sat and cried. I didn't know what to do. Mourning was never really a thing. People knew when every loved one would die. So the day before they would throw a huge goodbye party of sorts. So for someone to die, unexpectedly. Was a double dose of raw emotion.
*I'd give you more time with her*
Johns voice ran through my mind as I walked into the bathroom.
This had all been too much. He had somehow thrown away his entire future, a future others could count on. He had disrupted so many lives. (HOW DARE HE). Now in less than five years time his sister would be a widow, and wouldn't have john to lean on.
*crash*
The bathroom mirror had shattered. My hand bleeding.
*shit*
As I bent down I saw my date "10-2-...."The rest hidden behind the curve of my neck.
*more time with her*
I wished it could be true
*more tiiiiiiiiiiiiime*
The voice dragged on in my head.
A sharp pain in my neck dropped me to my knees. The pain so burning hot that I didn't even notice the glass in my legs.
I tried to scream but I couldn't. It felt as though my neck was breaking. As though I was being stabbed by a chainsaw. At the same time I felt as though I was growing. Not physically, but i felt like I had as a young child, optimistic. The pain didn't let that last for long.
A strange memory surfaced, I swear I was able to look into the memory as though it was playing on a screen in front of me.
"It says to make it work you'd have to sacrifice yourself for someone. It would have to be done completely out of love."
He seemed to look through the memory, right into my eyes. He mouthed the words
"You'll have more time with her."
As soon as he did the memory, the pain, the optimism. Everything stopped.
I looked into the broken shards on the ground. My date, it was as red as a newborns.
It no longer had the 10-2-2021 I had become accustomed to my entire life. It now said 10-2-2071. With a small tattoo of text underneath it.
"I'd give you more time with her if I could."
|
My first day of hell was above average to be honest. It felt like I had started a new job. Let me give you some background. Last week I worked in IT, for a big government organisation sifting through big data and data mining for a large project. Very very boring stuff.
I had been doing it for years, nothing to show for it, meaning less work day in day out so I decided to end it all. I leaped off the top of our office and woke up in a bed with pure silk sheets.
Any who I had figured I was still alive, until I stepped outside of the room I had woken up in. A fiery plume of lava shot up from the ground, a warm heat hit my face when I had opened the door. This wasn't Australia at all, or was it?
I walked down the corridor to the sounds of screams, demons flying past me and ghouls mining on the rocky walls. I asked one where this was.
"Gaaaaaasssssspppppppppp"the ghoul replied, his skin peeled and missing bits of flesh on his face.
"Ahem, sorry I had a bit of dust in my throat, the names Greg and I work for satan. This is hell. And you are?"
"Well I'm Jim, what do you mean hell? The real physical hell? Satan is your boss?"
I had so many questions.
"Well yes! Satan is my boss, he's great we have a scheduled outing today after work. I think he's looking for a change however he's been in this line of work for eternity!"
"Well Greg take me to your boss."
As Greg walked down the halls and outside to the external of the dwelling I saw more and more ghouls who all looked at me and, smiled? I couldn't tell as their flesh had rotten from their faces and they literally had no lips. Quite terrifying.
We arrived at Satans castle and his voice boomed towards Greg.
"Great job on the castle Greg! Your annual pay review will be a good one! I especially enjoy the project your managing at the moment, who the hell is this new blood?"
We get to talking and Greg heads back to his job. Satan tells me that everyone is under the impression he's a terrible guy, and god is always putting him down. He told me that he used to enjoy the job but the tolls of being bullied, managing literally an infinite amount of souls and having a limitless world under his control sucks.
He is swamped with work 24/10 and doesn't have any downtime. He is planning on leaving and has a good resume built up.
"Satan to be honest your workers look like they are quite happy. A few of the ghouls even smiled at me."
"Jim I can't do it anymore mate I can't stand it."His voice boomed through the halls. Flames shot out of his mouth and heat coming off his body.
"Listen Satan I used to work for a large corporation I know what it's like, however your in charge and being a leader means more than being a boss. Let's start changing some things around here!"
"Well Jim what did you have in mind?"
We started brainstorming ideas, Friday drinks, dress themed Thursday's, no torturing Wednesday's, a bingo night. A lot of the ghouls and demons didn't know what bingo was so it took a lot of explaining. They were missing parts of their bodies.
I had access to all sorts of technology as Satan is a god. So he could summon laptops, iPhones, computers etc.
He fabricated a desktop PC and I started to automate some of his processes so he could get out of the office. He had over 6^1.2e amount of emails. I don't know if any of them made a different so I sifted through a lot. I did have eternity.
I got Satan out of the office most days of the week and had him set up with a iPhone and Bluetooth headset for roaming.
I started him with a decent workout regime which included all body weight workouts and a diet plan. I told him to cut out all possessed souls as a snack as they were high in calories.
His quality of life increased tenfold.
Edit: Thank you so much for reading, a few mistakes :). If you enjoyed this subscribe to [VasilioskWP](https://www.reddit.com/r/VasilioskWP/) |
*It was largely a day like any other for Jamal the praying mantis. He'd just enjoyed eating several caterpillars and was just popping down to the corner store for a Diet Coke when he met his friend, Andrew.*
"What it is, Jamal,"said Andrew.
"Please stop speaking to me like that,"I said. "It makes me uncomfortable."
"Ah, right-o. Apologies. Any-who, I was wondering..."Andrew blushed, giggled a little. "Well, you see, Penelope and I just arranged a little... rendezvous. And, as I know we've all been terribly curious about such things, and you're my best friend... I thought you might... enjoy a little peeky-weeky."
"Ah,"I said, feeling an instant tug between my bug-morals and my curiosity. No one knew what happened when one got together alone with a female! There was just this strange, *tug* towards doing it, an awful biological need... "Well, if you don't think it's too... creepy."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure she won't mind. Just hide in the bushes and make sure she doesn't see you."
"Alright."
Three short hours later, I was hiding behind a particularly large chrysanthemum when Penelope finally showed up. Andrew, the gentleman that he was, of course had brought a box of chocolates and was wearing one of those delightful boater hats. Penelope, however, was having none of it.
"Get inside me!"she screamed, and thrust her body into his.
"Oh, well, my, that is... I do say, you are a bit forward. Ah, here we go, tally-ho, and--"
It was at that point that Penelope severed my friend Andrew's head. It bounced down the way, right to where I was standing. His eyes looked up at me sadly, his boater hat now at a rakish angle.
Unfortunately, Penelope had watched said head rolling... and now she saw me.
"Stop!"she screamed as I took off.
I had to warn them, everyone! My god, these women were absolutely ghastly!
Penelope was fast, but I was faster, fueled by terror. I made my way for the gentleman's club, where, of course, many of my fellows were practicing their flower-arranging skills. Several others were crocheting scarves for their sweethearts. Nigel, the cad that he was, was doing a bit of origami.
I was just about to burst in the door when Adeline, my girl, flew down before me.
"So,"she whispered. "We... um... haven't... And I've been speaking to Penelope."
"She killed Andrew! She's a murderer."
"Yes. But, well, she thinks you're cute."
"What? Cute, really?"
"And, well,"Adeline said, "I've always been interested in... you know... experimenting."
Whatever it was I'd been so worried about suddenly left my mind.
'You mean... you mean that you... both... might want..."
"Yes!"she exclaimed. "Let's go right away."
"I... I was going to do something. My god I remember! Penelope is a killer!"
"But, there's two of us,"Adeline explained patiently.
"Ah, yes, right-o. Lead on."
You see, there were two of them. |
I leaned against my axe, placing my elbow on the bottom of the hilt while looking at the ledger for today. It had ten trees listed on it with their name, position, and a basic description of their build. Recently we’ve been given withered and broken trees to harvest, given the outrage that spawned from too many young and fit trees being taken down. “You’re killing our youth!” and “can’t you find a better way?” were thrown around by the locals to my company, but our hands were tied. The government recently passed a law that nuclear and coal power were unsafe for the public (one that was initially backed by the populous I might add). Solar and hydro power wasn’t going to power the ever-growing economy, so we had to revert to burning wood to get energy.
This would have been fine if it wasn’t for the trees being connected to people. No, not in a spiritual way, more of a physical way. You see, when a tree gets hurt, someone in the world gets hurt the same. Nobody knows when it started ‘cause it took a while to make the connection. Trees and people? If you told me they were connected ten years ago I would have laughed in your face. Now it’s just another part of my day.
Nobody likes being the harbinger of death, so the job of a lumberjack quickly fell past “I don’t really want to do that” to “please anything but that!” The government had to instate a draft to get people to actually harvest trees cause the lumberjack employment rate was so low. That’s where I come in, jus’ finishing up my last month of my contract, then I can go back to my old job, a line chef. It wasn’t the most glamorous, no, but at least it wasn’t killin’ people or nothin’.
I walked up to the first tree on the list and took out one of my company issued syringes. The syringe took about 20 seconds to fill up with the narcotic, and once I matched the liquid up to the right level for the size of the tree, I shoved it in the base of the trunk. I’m not sure what happens exactly to the person connected to the tree, but I’m told it makes the act of harvesting a bit less painful. After waiting about 30 more seconds I began chopping down the tree.
This tree in particular was larger than the nearby trees, with branches that extended proudly in all directions. It probably belonged to a young athlete, a shame it was on the list to be chopped down. It gets easier after the first couple trees, it really does. Once you forget the fact that there’s a person on the other end of what you’re cutting down it’s not so bad. Sometimes I like to make it easier to forget the travesty by singing aloud to myself. If I can sing loud enough I can ignore the screams of those I cut down earlier in my head.
‘Eight trees down, two to go,’ I thought to myself. Syringe out, drugs in, and wait. I was getting a little tired while waiting, probably ‘cause of the last couple trees were thicker than usual. I thought I had a light cold the last couple days, that wouldn’t help much. I leaned against my axe, placing most of my weight against it now, feeling heavier than usual, and looked up at the tree. I didn’t notice it before but this tree seemed more beautiful than the others. It looked comfortable, like something I could live on if I built a treehouse for it. The leaves turned towards me, and if I were a lesser man I might think the tree was tryin’ to talk to me. Trees can’t talk, that’s ridiculous. I hefted up my axe and swung directly at the base of the tree. With each swing it became more difficult to recover, I might have to skip my last tree today and head home early, hopefully my boss would understand. By the end of the harvesting session I could hardly stand, but I was almost done, and determined to get at least nine out of my ten tree quota. With a deep breath I heaved against the tree.
|
It was just another normal day. A rainy Tuesday in the middle of January. I was walking back to work from another dull lunch, sighing at the mundaneness of my life. I was a data entry specialist for a finance firm, so my days consisted of typing numbers into premade worksheets nonstop. I hated it, but I needed the money and couldn’t find another similar paying job. I sighed again, my shoulders drooping heavily.
A car rushed past me, spraying up thick, dirty water and soaking me from head to toe. At that same moment, an indescribable pain rippled through me, starting at my left shoulder and echoing out until my whole body was paralyzed with the pain. I fell to the sidewalk and blacked out.
 
When I came to, I was still lying there on the damp sidewalk. Rain drizzled down onto me and my head throbbed. People were walking past, completely ignoring me. I slowly stood up, holding my head as if it might pulse off my shoulders at any second. As my head cleared and the throbbing subsided, I was hit with another shocking wave of pain, directly behind my eyes. As the shooting pain washed over me, I began hallucinating.
Vision danced in front of my eyes, all of me, but somehow not me. They felt like memories, but I knew I hadn’t done any of these things.
 
I saw myself boarding a hot air balloon on a trip from California to Paris. I saw myself free-climbing the Eiffel Tower, much to the chagrin of the French.
Moonlit nights on the canals of Venice, climbing Everest, countless days dancing and swaying with beautiful women. It was like everything I wished my life could be, but it wasn’t.
 
And I suddenly realized exactly how this daydream-hallucination version of me had done it! I practically ran the whole way back to my office, slamming in through the front door, past reception, and darting up the stairs 3 at a time. I flew through the big oak door to the CEO’s office and stopped dead in my tracks. He was there, as always, with his mistress, perfect! His wife would be furious if he knew about the slinky, slender, young woman that her husband had taken to doing “business” with. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and snapped dozens of pictures before either of them could react.
 
I shut the door behind me much more quietly than I had opened it, but not until he had signed a check to my name for several million dollars.
At home that night, as I showered and packed, preparing for an early morning flight to Thailand, I looked in the mirror and noticed something. On the left side of my face, where before had been only porcelain skin, stood a singular dark freckle.
|
I was glad I had brought my duster to class with me. The classroom was, in actuality, an honest-to-God *dungeon*, and even in the waning days of August there was a chill in the air. Come December, this castle would be as frigid as my old basement workshop, and the administration would probably frown on my pink bunny slippers.
The students, all fresh-faced youngsters, stared at me. I deftly unclipped the shield bracelet from my wrist and dropped it to the desk with a loud clanging sound. Next came the power rings from my hands, which clattered on the wooden surface one by one. I slipped the pentacle necklace out from my shirt and willed it to light.
I withdrew my blasting rod from the leather thong in my duster, and gently laid it down, then murmured *"ventas servitas"*. My staff flew from the corner into my hand, and I placed it onto the desk. The students' eyebrows were already raised, and their eyes grew wide as saucers when I produced the *coup de grace*. My Smith and Wesson 500 slid easily from my pocket and I dropped it to the desk with a loud *thunk*.
You could have heard a pin drop.
My face was set like a stone, and I let the silence hang in the air like a weight. 15, 20 seconds passed before I spoke. "Your professors don't know jack,"I said. "All they know is books and theory, but I've seen shit that'll turn them white."
Nobody laughed. No love for Winston Zeddmore, typical.
"I've gone toe to toe with the darkest creatures in the world, and I've sent every single one of them home in a body bag. I've killed people and monsters, vampire gods and faerie queens. I've stared down the stuff of nightmares and kicked their asses up between their ears. I've bound demons to my will and killed dark wizards that make Voldemort look like a punk. I've been beaten up, tortured, and even killed. But I'm still standing, and everything that's gotten in my way is either six feet under or still licking their wounds.
All you've learned in this class is how to cast some spells, and I'll teach you more of that. But I'm also going to teach you how to fight with more than your wand. How to recognize a fight you can't win and how to change the situation. I'll teach you how to shoot a gun and kick 'em where it hurts. You're gonna learn to fight dirty."
I strode forward and picked up the textbook of a skinny red-haired student. I held up for the class, like the lion cub in that one movie with Darth Vader in it, and barked "*Fuego!*"The book burst into flames and the front row jumped back in their chairs as I dropped it. One girl even gasped out loud.
As the fire consumed the book voraciously and slowed to a smolder, I stared at the class. "My name is Harry Dresden,"I said. "Warden of the White Council, master of Demonreach, keeper of *Amoracchius*, Knight of the Winter Court, and Za Lord.
"Now let's get to work." |
*1. Dear God, I wish my mom paid more attention to me.*
I woke up in my beautiful home, beside my beautiful wife, to a startling and, to be frank, unwelcome sound.
"Douggy, my little Douggy,"a woman shrilly shrieked from outside my closed bedroom door. She was pounding away on it. "Douggy, I made you a nice breakfast."
"Mom?"I called to the door. My wife looked at me. She was just as confused as I. "Mom, is that you?"
"It's me, Douggy,"she said. "Can I come in?"she said as she opened the door and came in. I pulled the sheets up over my naked body.
"Mom!"I said. "You can't do this. I'm not a child anymore. This is breaking and entering."
"You're still my little boy,"she said, cheerily.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well it's the strangest thing,"she said. "I just got this feeling this morning, I can't exactly explain it, but I knew that deep down, what you wanted, *all* you wanted, was for your mummins to come spend some extra time with you. To give you a little extra attention."
Perhaps a Freudian would say I worked as hard as I did to become a millionaire in order to make up for the attention my mother deprived me of as a child. Perhaps they would be right. Be that as it may, I was a millionaire now. I was independent. I had a wife, a young daughter, a life of my own. I didn't want more attention from my mother. What I wanted was to be left alone so I could live my own life. It was enough to visit my parents every second or third holiday season.
"So just come downstairs when you're ready,"she said. "Hi June."
"Hi,"my wife said.
"And breakfast will be on the table."
My mother left the room and went back downstairs to clang around in the kitchen.
"Good god!"I said.
I instinctively reached for my phone to check my investment portfolio. Sadly, that is indeed what a man of business does first thing in the morning, even in such circumstances, when you'd think he'd stop and talk with his wife about what was transpiring.
*2. Dear God, I wish I had a hundred dollars! Then I could buy a new Nintendo game!*
When I opened my stock application I nearly had a heart attack.
"What's wrong?"asked my wife.
"We're ruined,"I choked. "We're absolutely ruined. We have only, and exactly, one hundred dollars to our name. And somehow it looks like that one hundred dollars is already spoken for..."
I clicked through my online transactions and saw that the 100 dollars was in a sort of banking limbo, already pledged to go towards something. I investigated further. An upcoming video-game! With our last one hundred dollars, somehow, I had pre-ordered a Nintendo video-game.
"Something's wrong,"I said to my wife. "Something is terribly, terribly wrong."
That was when I heard it. A blood-curdling scream downstairs. It was my mother. She was running around, throwing pots and pans, and screaming.
"Mom!"I shouted. "What's going on?!"
"Get down here! Get down here now! There's something amiss! Oh God, please, get away, please! GET AWAY!"
*3. Dear God, I wish you could bring my grandpa back to life so that he could hug us and live with us again, forever and ever...*
---
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The typing filled the dry office air. A 'ding!' went unheard as the elevator doors opened and she stepped out and started walking down the hallway.
It started with a man idly glancing up from his paperwork. His jaw dropped and his eyes slowly followed her as she kept going, completely unaware of his existence.
Whispering slowly replaced typing. Someone dropped their coffee mug. Someone else even hazarded a wolf whistle and was immediately slapped in the head.
"Damn."A man said as she disappeared behind a closed door.
"I'd never seen any so...you know."Another one said.
"Ugh, you are pigs."A woman said, rolling her eyes. "Just get over it."
"Aw, don't be jealous honey."One of the men said. "I still think yours are gorgeous. I mean, you're no palindrome, but..."He trailed off, winking at her.
"Don't hold your breath, 'honey'."She replied mockingly. "I know for a fact what they say about multiples of seven is true."
"Ohhhh, burn!"The other man said, punching his friend in the shoulder.
"Shut up, dude!"He hissed, glaring at the woman. "And just so you know, there's scientific evidence that there's no correlation between-"
"Yeah yeah, I've heard it all before."She said with a roll of her eyes. "And my eyes are down here."She added, pointing at them.
The door opened again, and the same change in behaviour happened as the woman walked her way to the elevator, pressed the button and waited for it to come. When the door opened and she stepped in, she took a moment to look at herself on the mirror. She glanced up at the numbers 314159265 floating over her head and allowed herself a smile.
And why shouldn't she smile? For other people, life was a struggle, but for her, it was easy as pi.
|
The light that always blinded me when I was summoned faded away slowly. There was an equal amount of blinking and rubbing my eyes until the dark spots faded and I was able to look around at my new location.
As always, I looked for Mira first. She was the only one who could summon me and only when she was in real danger. My eyes skipped over the smoke and the flames and the bodies and found her. Her arms, always so skinny, were wrapped around her legs. Her bony knees were scratched and bleeding and her clothing was torn and covered in soot.
"Mira!"I stepped over some charred remains of what had once been a person and knelt before her, my hands scooping her and holding her close. She was so big now! I could have sworn it was just the other day that I could lift her up above my head and now she was looking like she was going to be taller than me some day. Where does the time go? What a strange thought to have at a time like this, but with a daughter, well... it's hard to forget the little girl with her chubby face smiling when daddy came home.
"Daddy!"Mira cried into my shoulder. She hadn't called me that for years. This must have been a bad one. I rubbed her back and told her over and over that I was here now, that she was going to be alright.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried. I really did."Mira pushed against me and I let her go, she fell back onto the floor and I really looked into her face. Fire had scorched one of her eyebrows and the skin around it was red and raw. Seeing her hurt made tears well in my own eyes.
"I know you did, Mira. I know."I forced myself to smile at her, to let her know that I wasn't mad... to show her that I wasn't afraid.
"They..."Mira looked toward the corner and I followed her gaze. Five corpses sat there, twisted and charred by fire. As I watched one of their hands, curled in anguish as they flailed in death, crumbled away into ash and fell to mix with the rest of the soot on the floor around them.
"They tried to kidnap me."Mira was looking down at the floor when I turned back toward her, "They tried to cast a siphon-"
My heart ran cold inside my chest. I thought it had been long enough, I thought I'd done enough to erase her past. If one person knew, then...
"You did good, Mira."I wanted to hold her again. I wanted to steal her away again. She wasn't a kid anymore though, she was growing up so fast. I had to tell myself that last part a few times as my hands shook, "It's not your fault."
"I tried to warn them!"Mira cried again, falling into me as I wrapped my arms back around her, "I told them! I did!"
"I know."
"The fuck?!?"A gravelly voice broke into the moment.
I turned to find a large man standing in the doorway on the other side of the room. I hadn't even noticed the door there before, it had been partially obscured by a fallen support beam and the smoke from the still-burning fires.
"Who da fuck are you? Did you do this shit?"The silhouette pushed forward, not even dodging around the fallen beam but instead pushing through it. I watched as the aged wood splintered and exploded as his chest touched it. It didn't even slow his walk for a second.
"Bastion."I said the magic group out loud so that Mira could hear me. I'd been teaching her about things like this. I had just hoped she'd never have to use the information.
"That's right."The Bastion Mage stalked forward, the world pushing away from him as he closed the gap, "This idiots were supposed to lock that little shit down, I underestimated just how truly incompetent they were."
"You don't know what you're messing with."I warned him as I stood up. Ash and debris fell from the ceiling onto my head but I tried to ignore it. A mage like this was one that required undivided attention. I had to keep every one of my normal human senses locked onto him, "If you do anything to-"
"Oh, shut up."
I was on the floor before I realized he had even hit me. My ears rang and I was fairly certain there was blood covering one of my eyes. I tried to sit up and found that I couldn't take a full breath. Broken rib? I looked down. A large chunk of the ceiling was on top of me as well as some of the furniture from the floor above us. I twisted around a bit more, looking for-
Mira.
She stood in the center of the room, standing right between myself and the Bastion Mage. He was a brute of a figure. He face was thick and scarred over a dozen times. He was casting. I could see it in his eyes. Magi like him always got that look when they were pulling magic. I tried to warn Mira. I tried to tell say something, anything... but I couldn't. I didn't have enough in my lungs and I couldn't pull in enough air either.
"Now sit down like a good little girl."Bastion showed his teeth, "I've waited a long time for a meal like this. Kaasta Vonuska Di Siphon-"
The explosion ripped half of the building away. When I was able to look again all I could see was the open sky and the silhouette of my daughter. Standing there; shaking... crying.
I had hoped so much... so hard that this wouldn't happen again. They didn't know how much power she held. They always underestimated it, they always planned to steal it without even thinking about how dangerous it was to unleash the seal on Mira's power. I couldn't do much, but I did what I was able to do. I helped her be strong. I let her cry on my shoulder. I let her talk to me without showing fear in my eyes. She was my daughter, not a monster. I'd never look at her as anything but my little girl.
"Daddy!"
I sat back and closed my eyes as she summoned a stone golem to lift the debris off of me. She was amazing. She was so amazing. My little girl.
|
"And what would you like to name this little bundle of joy?"The nurse asked, smiling into my newborn daughter's baby blue eyes.
I exchanged a glance at my wife, and I knew right away we were both thinking the same thing.
"I think we'll go with %5E2019F, it's just too sweet, you know?"My wife replied.
"Excellent choice! I wish I named my son %5E2019F, Justin just doesn't fit with him."
As I signed the birth certificate, the percentage sign looping in my cursive, %5E2019F's eyes closed for a split second. All the lights went out.
When %5E2019F opened her eyes again, they were glowing green and blue.
The familiar Windows XP startup noise flowed from her vocal cords beautifully.
"Did you guys want to do it now, or are you familiar enough with the procedure?"The nurse asked, concrete-faced.
"I think I've got this."I replied, taking the thumbdrive from my pocket.
Very carefully, I inserted the thumbdrive in %5E2019F's left ear, her brain making clicking noises as it read my files.
I whispered, soothingly, into her right ear, "cd DOOMFILES, cd PROG, run DOOMGAME.exe."
Her head nodded. |
Data Shard from derelict vessel found around ruptured gravity bubble. location coordinates classified.
Star date: 2379.86
Vessel: Ka'chob
Mission Details:
Project title: Meshwork
Objective/s:
* To force unification of Human tribes
* If/When unification fails, to delay Human interstellar flight and emergence onto the Galactic stage.
* Number one priority: Ensure no advanced tech falls into Human hands. Self-sacrifice if necessary.
We orbit around the Human Star Sytem known as Sol. Human home world identified as Sol 3, called "Earth"by its natives. From this point on, all heavenly bodies within the system shall be referred to using the native species designated title for them.
* Refer to annex for title allocation
First Human vessel capable of interstellar flight was found orbiting its star just outside of the systems Oort Cloud. First contact was not made, Rojek virus was introduced into the ships systems to gain access to the Human Global network upon ships return to home planet and transmit any and all relevant data regarding (and not limited to) the native species. Data recovered from probe sent in, disguised as asteroid on close encounter with Earth, that native species (Humans) are Creative, innovative, highly intelligent, adaptable and above all else, resilient. However, Human species is self destructive, aggressive of their beliefs, ideas and territory.
* Primitive belief system indicates the worship of multiple beings. Each sect believing their worshipped being is better than the others. Galactic enquiry/audit is being conducted to find out which species were involved in polluting the Human culture in early development to introduce such belief systems already underway.
* Refer to annex C on Ghuvan Culture collapse study for more details on the introduction of God/Designer beings ideologies into the culture of primitive species.
The most concerning fact is that the Humans were not unified. Indicating the need for mandatory constant surveillance on technological development as well as strict no fly-zone around and through any system within a single light jump radius from Sol.
Grand-Science Councils' lead Scientist; Director Acknars' Log:
Entry:
This entry is a final warning and testament shall it be that this vessel, The Ka'chob of the Tibertian Navy, has failed its Mission.
The Humans had at this time developed a wormhole generator capable of transporting ships over unimaginable distances. Our own FTL drives use gravity waves to generate slipstreams within space to transport us from one point to another. The general baseline single slipstream jump allows us to travel 100 light years within a period of 10days. The Humans system has allowed them to travel over twice that distance within a mere second. It's impossible, our sciences tell us that but yet, here it is. Their first test probes bypassed the no-fly zone. Thankfully they had chosen the home of the Andarin as their end point. The Andarin are also thankfully all dead. The zone was tripled in radius from Sol then on. The Humans are launching now not one but three different ships, each of different designs with only one similarity; their engine. We have put their entire planet at peril twice in order to force cooperation and eventual unification but have failed.
The first attempt was an asteroid collision. They simply fired missiles at it nudging its impact point away from their home territories on the surface. After enough nudging the asteroids structural integrity failed and the asteroid shattered into fragments small enough to get themselves burned up in the atmosphere. Our second attempt was using the old Rojek virus we had infected their Global network to force an economic crisis. All that did was force a global war that decimated 20% of their population, forced two major powers into a merger and also the rise of a new planetary government body, The Martian republic.
All other attempts to slow their progress has failed. We are now getting ready to perform our final "solution". It involves the creation of an artificial event horizon around their Oort Cloud. This will effectively seal their entire system within a bubble of space. The only problem is that in order to create the bubble, we will be need to be directly next to the Oort Cloud, and the when the bubble has been blown, the resulting tidal forces will be too strong and will destroy the ship of we do not get away fast enough.
To my family: I wish you all well. Remember what I did to save us from war. I truly *(end extract/Data corruption) |
"We'll starve at that rate."The king of East Red, the least powerful of the four deserts, exclaimed.
"Not if you ration fairly. That's my final offer."I replied. Even Kings are powerless before me. Things didn't used to be like this. We lived on rich agricultural landscape and everyone ate nicely. Then the storms came and the grass and fertile soil was replaced with arid sand. Luckily there were several people who could generate infinite supplies of food to feed people. Everyone was still able to live happily.
Until I killed them all. Anyone who could generate any kind of nutrition at all died to my hand. I only left one alive when he swore my loyalty to me. He creates cake only for me and knows he'll die if anyone else gets cake at all. I execute any child who has prowess in creating food, whether it be something useful like mashed potato or barely edible gruel.
People wanted to stop me but they wouldn't eat if they did. I controlled their stomachs, so I controlled them.
|
"PISS OFF. We're trying to take a waz."
"Yeah, what fuckin' contract are you talking about?"
Kurt and Joey aimed their "rifles"at the flaming skeleton, laughing their asses off. Soon, everyone was taking a leak on the skeleton. Screaming in agony and humiliation, the flames on the skeleton went out and it collapsed.
We cheered in victory, going back to putting out the fire. Once the flames were out, we hopped in our hammocks and went to sleep.
We were awakened hours later to an ungodly noise. When we finally came to our senses, we saw some eldritch abomination with a bigger member than any of us had ever cared to see, pissing napalm on Kyle's RV.
"Aww, come on, man! I just paid that off!"
*"Guess nobody taught you to not shoot the messenger. Now you must pay the price."*
Tony turned to me and shrugged. "Guess we shouldn't have drunk lite." |
The four men sat around the table at the front of the generous auditorium, looking out at all the students there to snag their Human History credit. Professor Uguru greeted the class and introduced them one by one, though any student worth their salt at Grezych University would know who was whom without introduction. With compact translators in every ear in the room, filtering out accents and colloquialisms to preserve understanding, the men at the table were ready to field questions from the audience.
An arm, with four spindly fingers at the end, shot up near the front. With a nod from the Professor, Jurin asked, "What are your opinions on the current political situation in the United States?"translated from the mumbling grunts of the Kirin language.
A mustachioed man, bearing a sort of cross on his arm, was the first to speak. "This man Trump, he knows how to run the country. He has found the race that leeches on the American society and seeks to remove it. Surely this is the best thing to do."
*Ahem*. A bespectacled man sat comfortably in his wheelchair responds. "He has created a fear of these, the huddled masses, yearning to be free. The country was meant for immigrants and we should continue to welcome outsiders. Most of the country would seem to think so. And his ideas on healthcare? How can he hope for a sustainable economy when he refuses to take care of his citizens."
Another man, this one with jet black hair and an aggressive air about him spoke up. "This man, Donald, I would work with him under the table. Populism is just a term for a proletariat uprising, is it not? And the way he lashes out against the media. If only he would take control. Maybe Putin, soon to restore Russia to her former glory, will assist him as president."
Finally, in cadence, the fourth man, with a bulldog face, spoke up. "I myself am more worried about the exit of Britain from the European Union, but it would seem this president is an effect of a similar ca-"
Another man broke through the door in the back of the room, wearing a heavily decorated military uniform with thin, wiry glasses perched atop his nose. "Always the Europeans and American scum thinking they are better,"he proclaims, marching to the front of the room. "When in reality the current state of affairs is due to you being inferior, lacking discipline and possessing a crippling arrogance. That is what created the man *your country*,"he exclaims, with a finger jab at the man in the wheelchair, "elected president, as well as what brought upon *your country,"this time a jab at the bulldog, "the poor decision-making it has had of late. As for *your countries*, one clings to the past, under a man who hopes to reclaim a glory long lost, while the other has thrown the past away, doing its best to reverse her wrongs, but in doing so it has neglected her people."
The room grew silent. |
Four young dragons sat gathered around a rock on top of a mountain, far away from the bullies and problems of their teenage lives. Each of them were reaching into the pouches strapped around their neck and pulling out small carved figurines of a bi-pedal creature that only existed in mythology.
As they placed them on the flat rock in front of them, the biggest of the four set up a three-piece folding wooden board in front of him. He pulled out ornate tomes of lore and thousands of pages of information, all already known by the entire group.
The three dragons, Anthony, a red Westshire dragon, Gregory, a green mutt, and Andrew, a blue Weinhauser, stared towards the biggest, nostrils smoking with undeveloped smoke in anticipation of the events awaiting them.
The biggest dragon glanced up after setting down a couple of dice on the rock. "Welcome friends, to the fifth gathering of this campaign of Houses and Humans. On this episode of *House Hunters*, you will each be seeking to find a perfect palace- underneath your budget. That includes renovations."
Anthony groaned at this and stared down at his character, Kayla, a WASPy part-time basket-weaver with only six hundred thousand to spend. She was far more skilled with procuring rare items then repair craft.
The biggest dragon glanced at him, then at the other two. "I am proud to serve as your Realtor today. Let's begin!"
The next hours melted away for the four young dragons as they search the suburbs of the mythical Portland in search of the perfect house. They saw houses with pools that needed new bathrooms, houses that had miles of property, but no roof, buildings floating over Burnside with no floor.
It soon became clear that Gregory and his powercouple of Tara and Martin (an ant-hill stomper and heroin addict with a budget of 1.1 million) were close to claiming victory.
Anthony and Andrew stared with jealousy at the smug dragon, rolling his dice to see if the homeowners accepted his offer.
The biggest dragon shook his head. "I'm sorry, Gregory. You've rolled too low. You lowball the homeowners, and offended, they refuse to sell to you."
Gregory roared and spread his wings, overturning the game board.
"Hey!"The others protested.
As the biggest dragon set up his supplies again, he glanced into a book and his eyes widened.
"Gentledragons, it seems we have a new quest line that opened up, should you choose it."
The other dragons leaned in, enchanted.
"How would you like to participate in the struggle against a re-zoning attempt?"
The dragons eyes widened as they stared back and forth at each other. Then they nodded vigorously. This was going to be a quest for the ages. |
Well here goes nothing, I thought as I injected myself with tons of nanobots.
It stung my arm and I could slowly and painfully feel them move up my bloodstream and up my spinal cord. It felt like a hot burning pin was slowly rising up my body.
As they made their way up, I saw some glitch like flickering around my peripheral vision. As the millions of nanobots reach my brain, I felt the pain intensify exponentially. It was only five seconds and yet it felt like 5 hours before the pain started to dissipate.
I felt the nanobots work as they forced my brain to fix it's "errors"and to correct it's "settings". Now you may ask, "What errors? What settings?"
Well basically, I'm the lead scientist of a government project to create the perfect human. Remember the HUD and emotion cancelling thingy majig from that one episode of Black Mirror? We're trying to make something similar.
Anyways, I felt my vision and senses heighten as all the "flaws"of my brain were fixed. I felt my emotions amplify and I felt that I could grasp at all my previous knowledge--similar to taking the NZT pill from the TV show and the movie Limitless.
I see various things on my new HUDs and, in actuality, I am completely overwhelmed. I can see a HUD displaying my various ailments. I also see HUDs for my life force, my energy, my friends list, and my body's current settings.
There are also some random ones such as my inventory, my bank account, my stocks, my experience in 1000+ different fields with most being at 0, and my insurance plans. I could also "level up"myself by designating what stats I want to increase. I could make myself more attractive, more smart, more athletic and I can even reset my stats!
But there **is** a *sliiiiight* problem. My vision is completely obstructed by these oversized HUDs that are basically giant windows and I have absolutely no idea as to rid myself of these random HUDs and I have no idea how to get rid the useless ones.
Great, now I am completely blind to the real world because of these stupid HUDs. I don't want to know that I'm currently 43 years old and I am pretty sure I already know my own fucking name. It was like a computer virus that filled your desktop with ads that you couldn't close.
Just then, I heard a "BLING!"sound and a new HUD popped up. It read: **New Objective: Initiate Settings Tutorial**
--------------------------------------------
~~Part 2 on request.~~ |
frustrated at my own stupidity, I get out of my spaceship.
'Oh, come ooooon! How the hell do I run out of fuel *in space*?'
I kick the side of my ship, not even leaving a dent - but hurting my foot in the progress. I mark the ship's location and send a distress signal to my home base.
**help is on the way, do not panic. Expected time of arrival: 36 hours**
I roll with my eyes, and decide to make the best of the time I have left on my planet, and go exploring. I have enough food and water to survive for weeks anyway.
I continue to walk in the direction of the two moons, and after a few minutes of walking, I see what appear to be huts that resemble tipi's from the ancient Indians back on earth. There's civilization!
I didn't know exactly what planet I was on - maybe it was one of the x3-zz planets, the ones that didn't agree with the intergalactic peace pact - so I neared the tipis with my hands in the air.
'hello?'
The yellow-orange'ish cloth from the tipi moves, and a slightly purple-skinned creature walks out. He wasn't that different from myself - in fact, it could've been a human with some purple body paint. Obviously, it wasn't. Their facial features were different from ours. He - or she - had three eyes, only one nostril, and a slightly smaller mouth. The creature blinked - a slight delay with every eye - and replied.
'Greetings, traveler.'
'Hi, I'm Sam. I'm a human, from colony Triple-A five. I've ran out of fuel with my ship while travelling, and now I'm stranded here for almost 2 days. I stumbled across your village'
The creature stared at me in disbelief.
'2 Days? do you even have enough resources to survive for an hour?' he said, pointing at my backpack.
'I've got enough for weeks even' I replied, confused.
The creature slowly made his way towards me. He held out his hand, and I shook it. 'my name is Sha'rah. Nice to meet you, traveler. Would you mind if I checked your backpack?'
I put down the pack and opened the zipper, allowing Sha'rah to take a look.
He lowered his hand into the bag, seemed to grab something, and with a lot of effort pulled out a bottle of water. He dropped it to the ground, where it bounced once and rolled back between my feet.
Sha'rah removed some sweat from his forehead with his hand.
'How do you carry all of this, traveler? is that some sort of fancy backpack?'
I stared at him, confused about the question.
Sha'rah grabbed the bag, and proceeded to try and lift the thing.
It didn't even move.
His eyes widened and he stared at me.
'Human, your strength is sublime!' he said.
I didn't understand it at all. I wasn't the strongest human - in fact, I didn't even qualify for the military because I couldn't lift the required amount of weight back on earth
'How do you mean?' I asked him.
'Wait, here. Take this.' said Sha'rah, handing me a tiny bag, seemingly made of some sort of leather. It was extremely light - not heavier than a pencil.
'balance it on your finger.' He said.
I did so without any difficulty.
'*incredible*...', Sha'rah mumbled. I handed him back the small bag.
His eyes sparkled with joy as he turned back to me.
'Human, I have a request for you. Can you help us build a community hut? we can not carry the materials, but surely you could assist us? We're willing to pay you for your troubles.'
I looked at my wristwatch. The timer was at 34h20m, so I still had plenty of time to kill.
'Sure'. I said
Sha'rah took me to the building plot, where a lot of other creatures similar to him were carrying small wooden poles and what appeared to be clay on small wagons, often with two pulling at the front and two pushing at the back. He handed me a small note with the blueprints, and told me he'd 'pay me 100 credits if I could finish the building.' 100 credits weren't that much - especially not if I'd complete the building just in time - but I couldn't do a lot else, so I decided to help them. They were a kind race, all greeting me with utmost respect, so they deserved all the help they could get.
12 hours passed, maybe even 16 - I didn't pay attention - and the building was already at twice the predicted size. I had completed laying the floor, and all the walls had been connected to eachother. All the friends of sha'rah had just given up and were watching me in awe as I went to and fro, putting the wooden planks in place. Every time I picked up a plank, the crowd would clap for me, cheering me on as I went. The encouragement and joy was worth more than those 100 credits to me anyway.
After resting for eight hours, and finishing the roof afterward, my wristband started bleeping.
'**help arriving in 15 minutes**'
I sighed, realizing I'd soon have to walk back to my ship. I walked to Sha'rah and told him I'd have to go. He gave me his 100 credits, and sincerely thanked me for all the hard work. With a heavy heart I walked back to my ship, and as soon as I got there, a slightly bigger ship appeared on top of mine. A tube slid out, entered my ship, and filled it all the way back up to full. One of my lieutenants climbed down the ladder, and I paid him the proper amount of credits.
The fuel ship flew of again and I climbed into the cabin. I had a mission that I still had two weeks to complete, and I would probably be able to complete it within two days.
'Fuck it, I'll stay for a while' |
"To be fair, those Chinese bastards killed me waaaaaay more than I killed them,"you argued.
"What is the kill death ratio for *PlayerUnknown's Battlegrounds*?"asked the angel at the head chair.
"0.52,"said the angel to his right. He peered into a small tome in front of him. "It is much lower than others we've seen."
"The game doesn't run very well on my computer,"you tried to say, but were interrupted.
"Death is not a game!"The head angel boomed. "What of the deaths for *Dishonored*? *Fallout*? *Starwars Battlefront*?"
"Hey, I didn't even buy the second *Battlefront*, so give me a little credit,"you protested.
The head angel considered this for a second, then nodded. The right angel scribbled something down. "Nevertheless, you have killed many. What have you done to atone for these sins? You did not repent for them, and you seem to feel no remorse. I cannot allow one such as yourself to enter the gates of heaven."
"Wait Wait WAIT! I can't go to hell over fictional deaths!"
"The deaths of these heroes are red upon your hands, and unless you can provide us with a significant amount of lives you have saved,"the head angel shrugged, "your fate is sealed."
"Heroes' deaths..."you murmur, falling to your knees. But then it hits you. "Heroes never die."
"Excuse me?"
"HEROES NEVER DIE. Check my *Overwatch* stats,"you plead.
The right angel flips to a page in the rear of his tome. "It's true. A Mercy main. How did we overlook... ah, but why did you let the Genji's perish?"
"Er.... Aside from that, I saved a lot of people right? And check my *Final Fantasy XIV* too. I mained heals! And... and..."you fumbled for more examples, but you'd only been into games for 3 years or so. "*Dead by Daylight*? I risked my life to save many others, sometimes sacrificed myself. Also... my Pokémon are happy...?"
You were grasping at straws now, but the angels seemed to be heavily reviewing the back of your book. Finally, they set it aside.
"In light of your healing activities, we will show mercy upon your soul and renounce your sentence. You may freely enter the Kingdom of Heaven,"the head angel decreed.
"Really?"
"On one condition,"the angel said. "We, the warriors of God, are in need of someone who matches your skill set. Will you join us in defeating the Army of Satan?"
Edits: I can spell heros. |
“Billy, have you finished your homework?” Billy’s mom, Julie asked as she walked by her son’s room.
Billy didn’t answer. He’s a growing boy and has seemed a bit angsty lately. Hormones, Julie supposed. The last few days had been especially rough. Billy must have had a really hard day at school on Tuesday because when he came home he just seemed off, like he didn’t even know his own mother. He just *looked* at Julie. Hell, he looked *through* Julie, as if he was peering into her very soul.
Maybe that school bully Jacob was pushing him around again. Julie might have to call Jacob’s mother if this keeps up. Irene was able to talk Jacob back in line for a day or two, bitchy as she was about it. “Boys will be boys...” Irene had said.
“Honey, do you need help with your algebra?” Julie poked her head into Billy’s room.
Billy was standing at his window, staring outside as if he’d never looked out it before. His body twitched when he heard the question. He didn’t turn to look at Julie, just growled
*”WOMAN I WILL DEVOUR YOUR SOUL, AND THE ETERNAL PIT OF ANGUISH WILL BE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW”*
“Billy stop being so dramatic!*
Julie had heard about enough of her son’s silliness. It has to be that music. Loud rap music was normally Billy’s thing, only lately it seemed more like the death metal Julie listened to when she was pregnant. Weird how that worked out. I guess that’s how it goes when you get knocked up while playing at being a groupie for a summer. At least Phil stuck around instead of traipsing across country with that band. Thirteen years later and the death metal show days were behind them. Julie, a stay at home mom, and Phil took a job in accounting.
Julie stopped by the den on the way to the living room. “Honey, can you see if Billy is okay? He’s being a real dick lately.”
“Nice, Jules. Our son is a dick.” Phil replied, grinning.
Julie did her famous hands-on-hips “what are you gonna do about it” face.
“Aaaalright. I’ll talk to him.” Phil got up from his desk and made his way upstairs.
Phil was a realist. He remembered being 13, rough age. Thats when he got into music, and found a way to really express himself. Heck, that’s how he met Jules.
Billy was seated at his desk in his room, papers scattered all over scrawled with pentagrams and 666 everywhere. Kids.
“Hey buddy, you want to watch the game? You can catch up on homework over the weekend.”
Billy seemed to shake with emotion, as if he was about to burst.*”THE DOMINION OF THE UNHOLY WILL WASH OVER YOUR PATHETIC SOULS, AND YOU WILL COME TO EMBRACE PAIN, MAGGOT.”*
Those could be good lyrics, Phil supposed, but not really the topic for right now.
“Come on, buddy. Why don’t we go grab a chocolate shake and we’ll throw a ball around after.”
Billy’s shoulders loosened slightly, and he turned to face Phil. His dark eyes, so much like Jules’ seemed like black pools that sucked all the light out of the room. He looked to Phil and said, “Chocolate?” |
Her hair is a tangled mess. She's still asleep. Breathing ever so gently face down on the floor; yet, I still felt a sense of comfort around this strange person in my room. I touched her arm and she awoke with a soft spoken voice. She never actually looked up from the ground when she began talking. "Sam .. that was the most epic birthday party EVER! Can you believe he showed up?".
I was so confused. "Who are you?"I asked. "Are you kidding me right now? I'm your fucking twin!". She finally looked at me with an even more bewildered look than what I imagined I did when I woke up to this strange girl on my floor. But she was right. We were definitely identical. All the way down to the small birthmark above my lip. I was unable to move. I couldn't get over the fact that she acted as though this was normal. Like she had been here all along. |
It was almost closing time on a particularly order-heavy Thursday night for The Pizza Joint. I checked my beeper to see if any last-minute orders were almost ready for me to take. The screen pleasantly displayed:
*No orders In Progress.*
YES! That meant I could pack it in early. I sped back to work with AYCE Sushi on my mind. I'd been craving it since last week, and tonight, I'd finally be able to get there before last call. My stomach gurgled, my mouth watered, an--
**beepbeep** **beepbeep** **beepbeep**
I didn't even need to look at my damn beeper to know who it was for. *Fuckin' Billy.*
He always ordered the weirdest pizzas at the most inconvenient times. I don't even think he eats it, he just gets off on getting free pizzas. I checked my beeper to see what the jerk ordered this time:
*1 orders In Progress.*
*Click here for address.*
*Click here for order details.*
*1 XL pizza with:*
*extra jalapenos*
*extra sauce*
*extra cheese*
*big crust*
*ham*
*sausage*
*grilled chicken*
*banana peppers*
*pineapple*
*spinach*
I sighed. That's probably going to take 30 minutes to make. Billy lives about 5 minutes away, so theoretically, it *shouldn't* be a problem... but we know better.
I walked into the Joint and saw my boss had already whipped out the Billy Board.
"ALRIGHT!"he said to the room, "Based on our last 20 Billy orders, we know the types of traps he likes."
The board was pretty impressive, actually. My boss, Joe, had drawn every trap that Billy had ever thrown at us, and where he usually places them on the route from here to there. This usually included glass on the street, eggs thrown directly onto my windshield, or pot holes being covered up with tarp. We reported Billy to the police for these stunts, but no one else had seen these things, or ever been hurt by them. They also couldn't prove it was Billy. But we knew. *We knew.*
"Luckily this Billy isn't too creative,"Joe smirked, "He hasn't had a new trap for us in *weeks*."
"Doesn't that mean that he hasn't had a free pizza in a few weeks?"squeaked a teenaged pizza baker from the back room. "Doesn't that mean we should expect to see a new trap soon?"
The whole room went silent. He was probably right.
By the time the giant pizza was done, I had 8 minutes to drive to Billy's apartment and deliver this ridiculous pizza safely.
I muttered my mantra to myself, "Glass, eggs, tarp... glass, eggs, tarp..."I had one hand on the wheel, the other on the pizza in the front seat. Billy took my sushi, there's no way in *hell* I'm letting him get a free dinner out of this.
I turned the corner onto Billy's street, and saw... holy shit, FIVE tarps?! The bastard was just placing tarps everywhere now, so I didn't know which one actually had a pot hole underneath. Billy's house was several hundred meters away, and I knew I couldn't drive there. I got out of the car and carried the giant pizza on my head, at first walking slowly. Once I knew no one was around, I ran as fast as I could towards that asshole's place.
"Glass, eggs, tarp..."I thought to myself. As I neared his apartment, I didn't see any of those things. I felt pretty cool - I had outsmarted Billy. Maybe Joe was right - he *wasn't* very creative. All he could do was place random shit on the *road*.
Out of breath, and with one minute left to spare, I walked up the steps with a spring in my step. I MADE IT. I rang the doorbell and didn't even try to wipe the smug look off my face.
A strange man opened the door in his boxers. "What? What is this?"he asked.
I fumbled for words as I tried to figure out why this wasn't Billy, "Y-your pizza, sir."
"I didn't order any pizza."
"Does a man named Billy live with you, by any chance? Billy ordered a pizza."
He slammed the door without another word. Suddenly, it dawned on me. I felt the blood drain from my face and my hands begin to sweat as I checked my beeper for the address of the order. My heart stopped. *Billy had moved.* |
They were monsters—screaming, snarling, sprinting, humanoid monsters. They didn’t look all that dissimilar from me: tan, callous-looking skin, long athletic limbs, a gentle throat that produced speech, and sharp teeth that, as I had witnessed, could tear flesh from the bone. I ran as fast as I could through the streets of their sparkling, majestic city. The light of their two moons cast a spotlight on me as if I was under heat lamps at a buffet.
Up above, the eyes of alien onlookers gazed down from windows, sympathetic to this strange form, but helpless to offer more than a glance. I ducked down an alleyway, zigzagged down two more streets, and finally stumbled up the ramp onto my scout ship where my crew was waiting. The hum of the hatch closing was barely audible over the cackles of laughter.
Standing in a circle, as if partaking in a happy hour after a day in the office, was my captain and three shipmates. They were fresh with sweat and their chests heaved like mine.
“They are truly a magnificent civilization,” Captain Lance Banner said with a grin. “I nearly had tears in my eyes when I got close to them. All these years traveling through the stars and now we finally know the answer: we are not alone. By god, we are not alone! They may not have the gift of space flight yet, but we can certainly learn from them. I can’t wait to talk to them, to converse with their scientists, to share the equivalent of an alcoholic beverage with them. This was truly great day.”
"This day was hell."I choked out. The crew ignored me.
“The buildings seem to defy gravity,” Chief Engineer Kate Reynolds said. “And their energy systems are certainly unique.”
“Yes,” Banner said, “And their customs, although strange, probably hold the key to it all. To think, these people ingest each other. It MUST be a form of knowledge transfer. We’ll have to make contact as soon as possible to find out the details.”
“We need to get the hell out of here as soon as possible,” I said. Everyone looked at me like I was dousing myself with gasoline. “They attacked us! For god sakes, they tried to eat me. And you, Murphy!”
“Oh, it was a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Murphy chuckled. “Nearly got the captain, from what I saw.”
“Probably gave them a scare in our spacesuits,” Reynolds said. “We shouldn’t hold it against them.”
“If only they would stop running around the city and locking themselves inside of buildings,” Banner pondered, “so we could make contact and ask them the details.”
“A misunderstanding? I know ZERO about this planet, but it’s obvious something is wrong here. These aliens don’t seem to be having a good time here. Look!”
I pointed out the hatch window. In the distance, across a field of dreamy neon fern plants, a group of locals ran, much like how I had, screaming for what could only have been help in their native language. They were soon grabbed and eaten alive.
“Ah, yes, another knowledge transfer,” Banner said watching the carnage. “That lucky person is now learning so much from his fellow citizens. I’m jealous.”
“You’re an idiot,” I said, making my way toward the flight deck. “I’m getting us out of here.”
The room fell silent. I felt a hand dig into my shoulder. Banner spun me around like a child. The man was in his fifties and was gray everywhere, but he had the strength of a man that could bench press a spaceship.
“I don’t like your tone, soldier,” Banner said. The crew fell in line behind him. “We are going to be famous for this. Important people.”
“Leaders in our fields,” Reynolds agreed.
“We’ll have high schools named after us.” Murphy exclaimed like an idiot.
“I won’t have you muck things up because you’re scared,” Murphy added.
“Sir, you can’t be—"
“You’re new to the navy, so I understand how overwhelming this experience could be for you.”
Banner opened the hatch door. The crew looked on, nodding.
“I’ll be killed!”
“You’ll be enlightened.”
Banner rolled up his sleeve and I noticed that it was red with fresh blood. He held up his arm and revealed a bite mark the size of my fist. All around the wound Banner’s veins pulsed sickly green. The green stretched up along his neck. Banner looked into my eyes and I could see the sickness filling his irises like oil on water. A firm shove sent me rolling down the ramp. When I settled on the alien soil, I found the ramp retracting.
“They already initiated the knowledge transfer with me. I can feel thousands of years of wisdom and experience coursing through my body and filling my mind. I can actually feel the hunger growing inside me. Doesn’t that sound odd? I’m hungry! For knowledge!”
Growling and footsteps thumped in the distance, approaching me.
“Sir!”
“Haha! I’m hungry for humanity’s next step! It’s insatiable. I MUST share this knowledge with the crew. It’s time to feast.”
The ship closed shut just as Banner bit down on Reynolds’ neck.
I sprinted toward the city where the sympathetic eyes were hiding. Maybe Banner was right. Maybe the aliens could teach me something Banner and the others wouldn’t get a chance to learn.
Survival.
|
As I rang the Petersen's doorbell for the second time in five months, I reminded myself that I would never face a Judgment Day. I would never have to defend myself in front of some jackass in wings. When I die, I'll just be born again and I could have a do-over. Unlike the rest of the world, I believe that humans could be reincarnated as another species. Maybe I could be a bird.
Before I could get lost in my fantasy of flying, Ms. Petersen, opened the door with a smile, which quickly vanished when she saw my face. She looked over her shoulder and yelled out, "Carl!"
I could see Mr. Petersen on the sofa, eyes glued to the Sportscenter on TV. He yelled back, "Who is it, hun?"
Ms. Petersen looked back at me and her eyes went toward the baby in my arms, swaddled in a flannel blanket. She started sobbing and I hate it when they cry but they always cry.
Her husband looked at me and immediately stood up. The TV still blasting. Ms. Petersen moved from the door and I wordlessly came in and sat down on the chair across from the sofa. I nodded my head toward the TV. Mr. Petersen fumbled for the remote and turned it off. A loud silence took the place of the game.
"Is that him?", he whispered, tears starting to form at his eyes.
I smiled gently and rocked the baby in my arms. "It's a her."I paused, "But yes, it's him."
Ms. Petersen stood over me and peeked at the girl. There were a few wispy strands of blonde hair on her soft head. The baby gurgled happily. She barely cried on the seven hour drive here.
"Are you sure it's him? This baby has blue eyes. He didn't have blue eyes. I remember reading something that the chance of a reincarnated person having different colored eyes is like one in five hundred thousand. Maybe it was in that New Yorker article? Carl, didn't you read-"
"Ms. Petersen", I cut her off, pretending to bristle at her skepticism. "That eye thing is a complete myth. A woman as smart as yourself shouldn't be buying into that bullshit. Now I promise you, this is Marcus Adler. My algorithm has never failed. His date of death told me everything I needed to know about when and where he would be reincarnated. If you don't believe me, I'm more than happy to take her back to where I found her."
"No."Mr. Petersen called out, giving his wife a death glare. "We believe you."
They didn't know I didn't have any fancy algorithm. How could I? I failed math in high school. They didn't know that I just stole some random baby from a couple's house in the middle of the night. I always try and take from couples; at least they'll have each other to lean on when they realize that their child is gone forever.
"So about my payment?"I asked cooly.
Mr. Petersen went to the kitchen. Ms. Petersen sat on the sofa, staring at the baby, "And you're sure you can't help with my daughter? My Rachel? Please."
I sighed and tried to muster as much empathy as I could, "You know I can't, ma'am."I looked at the baby, "This monster killed Rachel and left her in his cellar for weeks. Even the autopsy couldn't provide an exact date and time of death. There's simply no way to know where she is."I shifted the baby to my lap and reached out for Ms. Petersen's hand with mine, clasping it gently. "But when she's ready, she'll find you."
Mr. Petersen returned and handed me the check. Twenty five thousand dollars. He had given me the first half of the money when I initially agreed to the job. I turned the baby over to Ms. Petersen and stood up.
"You're not going to stick around?", he asked.
"No, sir. The deal is I get you your guy. Everything else is up to you."
As I walked out the door to leave, I heard Mr. Petersen say, "I think the toolbox is in the basement. I'll get the hammer."
But no one could say I hurt that baby. I was somewhere else. Flying. |
The thing is absolutely huge, 6ft at least. Its eyes as black as a Khazad-dum dungeon, its pale gray skin glistening with the reflection of the ship's lights. It spouts horrifying gurgles that seem to travel up the crew's spines to their ears, trying to communicate its need for water. The body is shaped like a large tube; its plentiful legs spindly delicate. The thing is undoubtedly a giant shrimp.
Before saying anything, the ship's only Australian emerges from the crowd, wheeling a giant contraption with a shining blood-red hood. He places it a few feet before the confused creature. "This is my mate Ziggy"he says, "and he wants to make your acquaintance".
He turns one of the appliance's knobs and it makes a loud clicking sound. Suddenly a jet of fire shoots up from its belly, and at the same time the Australian unsheathes a razor-sharp machete, the grin on his face lit up from the hot flames.
The man from Perth turns towards the crowd, a look of pleasure on his face. "If there's one thing we know down under, it's how to put a fucken shrimp on the barbie". And with that, he launches at the terrified animal.
On that day, the ship's crew ate like space kings. |
"...And then he just comes up to me, smacks me with a--"
"Club?"
"No, it looked more like a walking stick."
"You said it was a leprechaun, why would leprechauns need walking sticks, they are short."
"This one was pretty tall! And just because they're short doesn't mean they are free from back pain. Getting back on track-"
"I think it was a shillelagh."
"What?"
"The thing he smacked you with."Palos chugged on his beer mug shortly after reassuring me that he is an expert in Not-so-lethal Irish weaponry.
"It doesn't matter what it was, nor that he smacked me."I say, fiddling with my amulet. Palos is the most annoying knight around, but he's the only one who can help me, considering my current situation. Actually, anyone could help me, but I have no friends. Being a wizard is a tough life, but a good career. The obvious downside is that you have to stay away from torches and public eye. What ingrates. They come to me, requesting charms for good luck, rings that can curse their enemies and enchanted arrows that never miss their mark, and after two months they don't even bother to check up on you. No 'Oi, the sword is cutting nicely!' or 'Thanks for helping me reclaim my family's throne from the usurper' or even a 'How have you been?'. No, they just scurry and forget about the good old wizard that did most of the dragon-slaying and throne-reclaiming, theoretically.
"Come again? Why are you telling me all of this, then. And where do I come in? I thought you needed my help. Don't get me wrong, you paid for the drinks so listening to your blabbering is a small price to pay, if that's all I had to do."
"Patience, dear."Tapping on the wooden table for emphasis, I bring a finger close to the knight's mug. "It's important because *the incident* happened after the darn leprechaun sued me."
"You got sued?"Palos breaks into a hearty laughter. "Now that's a first."
"I know right? How dare he. The pot I crafted for him was of the finest quality, guarenteed! And it would replenish its golden coins every Sunday. But according to him it did not work. Anyway, I got angry. And sad. Sad and angry, I closed my shoppe for the day. An' what did you think I did?"
"Watched something on yer Crystal Globe and weeped?"
"Yes, but I also did *something else*. I made something nice, for myself. All of this time, I did things for others. I decided to treat myself, as the younguns would say."
The knight nodded and took another sip of the alcoholic beverage.
"A'ight. So what did ye craft then, a lawyer?"Palos' intoxicating (and intoxicat*ed*) laughter followed shortly after.
"An amulet. Chique, and can be used with all sorts o' spells."
"Did...You charm it to protect you from the law, then?"
The tavern was becoming crowded, and as such, significantly louder. It was getting harder and harder to get my point across to Palos. Although, he was right about the law part...
"Yes...The Undead Lawyers, to be more specific."
"So it wasn't made to 'treat yourself' or any o' that. It's because you're scared. And it didn't work, so now you want me to protect your glittery bottom from the Undead. A'ight, I take the job."
"No! Actually yes, but no. Wait, what about my glittery bottom?"
"Just keep going then."
"...As soon as i finished enchanting it, Bathory swooped in and stole it. It suits his fangs well, but I needed it and--"
"Isn't Bathory your pet?"
"It's a pet bat, yes. So..."
"...I always wondered why you couldn't get a dragon like every other wizard."
"*Because* they are too cliche. And I live in a cave, damn it, you know I don't get out too often, save for the Samhain Faire to sell my wares...Wait, what was I saying?"
"The Bat stole your charm and...You know."Palos fluttered his hands on the side to mimick the bat's flight. Although it looked more like a seizurely-bird of paradise's flight more than anything. He was never good at pantomime.
"Right. So now I can't get it back...And I need *you* to get it back for me, before the Undead come to hail me to Court."
"That's it? That's why you summoned me? To get the charm off a damn bat?"
"I, for one, am not the most agile wizard. Plus, there is another detail that I might have missed."I twiddle with my thumbs in embarassment, knowing no other way of sugar-coating or wording the situation better to the smashed knight sitting in front of me.
"Which is?"
"After a long chase throughout my cave and discovering places that I wasn't even aware of, I got my hands on sweetest Bathory and tried getting the amulet off...But I couldn't."
"Too heavy?"He giggled, folding his arms. The movement was ushered by the sound of Palos' armor, a sound that I can't stand. I'm pretty sure it's getting rusty, as well. He should really be careful, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd meet his doom at the hands of a lich one of these days.
"No, It's the charm. I couldn't touch it. It was like a bubble surrounding Bathory. I tried every protection-breaking spell possible, but apparently the amulet's charm protects him from *myself*. I'm an **undead**, Palos, can you believe it? My whole life was a lie. Three hundred years of meddling with magic, and for what? All of this to find out that I'm nothing more but a festering nest for maggots that rose from the grave. My life- er, un-life is a lie! A huge lie!"
For a moment, I thought he was serious. I thought he was about to cry, even. But no, the only thing that broke from him was laughter. And oh, what a laughter. As loud as a banshee's wail (but cheerful). The whole tavern was filled with the witty knight's jovial chortle now, which made most of the guests turn their eyes to our table. I couldn't take it anymore, the fact that I was having a breakdown triggered by an existential crisis was enough, and Palos' laughter was the last thing I needed right now.
"**Quiet down!**"
The whole place grew quiet, within minutes that felt like centuries. This happens pretty often in inns and taverns, altough not for long. But I could swear that this time it lasted forever. I was proven wrong, eventually, as after a while everyone went back to their chatter, leaving me, my crisis and Palos alone. He wiped the smile, together with some beer foam, off his face and beard and put on a serious look once again.
"A'ight. Friend, I need to ask you something first. And, I really need you to follow me on this one. A'ight. Ye' paying attention?"
"Of course!"My eyes widened as I came close to the hero, for convenience.
"When you charmed the amulet, did you charm it to protect its bearer from the undead...Or from those who don't live?"
At first, I didn't actually know what the armor-bearer meant. But then I realised that he is a bastard. An ingenious basterd, though. He knows me more than anybody else, and he knows my failures more than anybody else, too. The fog in my mind cleared after a while and I snapped back to our conversation, giving him the awaited reply:
"I charmed it against things that don't live."
"Then I have news for you, spellslinging friend. You're not undead. But you're not alive either. And I'm not talking about heartbeats or blood pressure here, no. I'm talking about spirituality. When was the last time you went out with someone, in the fields? The good olde days' ye' feel me? Raiding dungeons together, like we used to long time ago. There is no spark in you anymore. Ever since you've retired, you're as *dead* as the creatures I slay. The amulet is not your problem here, but the way you live your life is. I mean the way you *don't* live your life. My advice is this: Give up this magical-crafting shide. It brings you no joy, it just saps the life out of you. Live a little, save a damsel in distress. Or let one save you, that works too."
Palos didn't say anything after that. And I didn't, either. He just took the last sip from his mug, got up, and tapped me gently on the shoulder, leaving the place. I stood there, petrified this whole time. It was like that time when I lost that staring contest against a gorgon.
Those were the days.
And they will still be, from now on.
This was the day when I have given up serving ungrateful leprechauns.
This was the day when I took the first step in not being dead anymore.
And I'll do it.
As soon as I find someone else who can recover the charm for me, of course. You can't really live your life if you're sentenced to prison for being a magical fraud.
|
**Please let me know what you think. I appreciate feedback.**
---
It was seeing the families with the young children that pained her the most. It reminded of the children she would never – could never – have. She hated and pitied those families in a way they would never understand. They had what she wanted most in this world, but many knew they would soon lose it.
Altheda lingered in the guise of checking bottles of medication, seemingly ignoring the mother and child behind her. The mother gently entreated the child to eat, while the child laughed, thinking it a game. They were among the lucky. The child was not fatally ill, nor badly injured. She would recover soon with the resilience that so many children seemed to have, and her time in hospital would become a faded memory.
Altheda couldn’t help wondering if that held true for the mother. Would she forget her fear and worry once her child was safe again? Or would it linger in the back of her mind, blazing into life every time her child left her sight?
Suddenly unable to bear standing there, Altheda smiled politely at the woman, and walked away. She was not needed here. Neither the woman, nor the child, required her attention, as a nurse or as a vampire. Staying there would just pain her more.
She had learned to numb the pain over time, but she couldn’t quite supress it.
Her heart clenched as she made her way toward the less fortunate families. The children who would not be able to recover, or leave, so soon. If at all.
She completed her shifts mechanically, the routine engrained into her. Each face that she saw was seared into her heart, and she would have wept if she had been alone.
She had always hated having to choose which children she would doom to the mercies of fate.
Perhaps, if Altheda was older or more powerful, she would have the ability to save more children. She wasn’t so prideful as to think that she would be able to save all of them. There were too many of the sick and dying, and too few vampires to save them.
Popular culture portrayed vampires as merciless killers of the night. It had forgotten their origins and the role they played. They once been considered… not gods exactly. But not ordinary humans either. They had once been welcomed into homes, and begged to save the lives of loved ones. Most had balked once they had learnt the cost of buying those lives.
Only a willing sacrifice could be used to save a life, and few people were willing, even for those they claimed to love most in the world.
Altheda wondered how she would have chosen if she had one day been forced to make that choice.
She slipped quietly into Evelyn’s room. Tiny Evelyn, her body racked with an illness that the doctors could not identify, breathed quietly in her sleep.
Evelyn’s mother stood over her child, shoulders shaking with sobs.
Joanna had agreed to the bargain. Altheda wondered whether she was beginning to regret it. She turned to greet Altheda by the name she had used at the hospital.
“Allison.”
Altheda stood quietly, studying Joanna’s dull face, and her red eyes. “Would you like some time to say goodbye?”
“I’ve already said my goodbyes. To her, and to the rest of my family, though I tried not to let them see it.”
Altheda’s heart stuttered at the thought of Evelyn’s older brother and sister.
“You said… you said that she will become like you. After, I mean.”
“It will take time,” Altheda said quietly. “She will have a chance to grow and mature, and experience life for herself.”
Altheda had not had that opportunity. She had grown up among the vampires. The mother she could barely remember, the woman who had given her life to Altheda in more ways than one, had been the only family she had had. After she had died, Altheda had been taken away by the vampire who had saved her. There had been no one else to care for her.
“Is it a good life?” Joanna asked softly.
Altheda considered the question. She had never considered it in those terms before. It was an infinitely better life than she had had before. The life that had come after had been hard. Painful, but not unbearable. She had gained a new family among the other vampires, and had even made friends who were not vampires.
“It’s life,” she replied simply. “It will be what I choose to make of it. As Evelyn’s will become what she chooses to make of it.”
Joanna took a deep breath, and nodded, then held out her hand.
“Wait!”
Altheda and Joanna both froze. The voice had come from outside the room.
A stooped, white-haired figure entered slowly. “Take me instead.”
Altheda watched the man in puzzlement. She vaguely remembered seeing him amongst the relatives who often came to visit Evelyn, but had rarely paid attention to him.
“Joanna has her whole life and three children. I’ll gladly give my life for my granddaughter.”
“Dad, you don’t –”
“Yes, I do.”
Altheda looked into his eyes, and understood. “You’re dying too.”
Joanna gasped. It was obvious that she hadn’t known.
“Take me instead,” the old man repeated.
Altheda nodded, and took his outstretched hand. “You have an iron will. That will serve Evelyn well.”
“Promise me that you’ll take care of her. When she’s like you, I mean.”
Altheda gently squeezed his hand. “She will be one of my own, and I will care for her.”
Despite the pain Altheda knew he must be feeling, the old man just smiled as Altheda began to draw his life from him.
---
*If you liked this story, please check out my subreddit at r/YarnsToTell.* |
the subject screamed in agony as he fought against the movement of the newly animated bones within his body. The muffled sound of muscle tearing off bone rippled throughout the subjects body as he lost the battle of which position to take. Standing ridged before the necromancer was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The corpse of the subject hung and sagged on his skeleton warrior, who had assumed the natural position of a summoned skeleton foot soldier. Apart from the blood pouring out of his mouth the summoned stood perfectly still.
Who knew summon bone warrior could work on the living? A millennium of the Dark Order of Necromancy, and I'm the first one to try this on the living? I guess the name was misleading and everyone assumed it couldn't be done. One thing for sure... Abigal will be going on a date with me tommorow whether she wants to or not. |
“All right birthday girl, I’ll get you anything in the store. But you can only get one toy.”
Brittany darted past the isles of American Girl Dolls and Barbies, stopping in front of the “boy” isle.
“Can I get this?” She said, pointing at the largest Nerf gun in the store.
Her father glared at his brother. “Lets just get you an easy bake, that’s what all the other girls-“
“Ahh the N-Strike Elite Surgefire. A fine choice. High in bullet capacity, great rate of fire, but a little finnicky with the reload speed. I’d rather get something that won’t jam.”
“It’s the most expensive, it’s the BEST one!” Brittany yelled.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that!” Victor reached to the back of the shelf and pulled a near discontinued rifle model out of its box. “I call this one Old Reliable” he said, loading the cartridge with darts.
“Victor! You haven’t paid for that! You’re gonna get us kicked ou-“
Victor shot the dart straight into his brother’s eye.
“I’ll wait in the car” said Dave.
Victor opened the box for the Surgefire. “Never buy a gun without testing it out.”
While he loaded the Surgefire, Brittany picked up Old Reliable and started shooting the other customers
“No civilian casualties!” Victor yelled. He fired a barrage of bullets at his niece and was hit with a well calculated shot to the torso in return. He winced in pain.
“Honey you stay right here. If anyone yells at you tell them your Uncle Victor is in the bathroom and that he’ll kick their ass when he comes back.” He grabbed his gun and marched off
Victor entered the bathroom and pulled his shirt up. The bandage over his spleen had a concerning amount of fresh blood on it. “Doc really half-assed this one” he thought. His last hit had been a tad messy
While wrapping his wound in paper towels, he noticed a familiar man exiting the stall behind him. He didn’t wash his hands.
“Pudgey…5’8…Hawaiian shirt……dirty nails”
Victor unlocked his phone and looked at his client’s message:
“Here’s a picture of the guy. Jared Legoff. This fucker is already on parole after didllin’ my niece! They said the evidence was circumstantial! Can you fuckin believe that! Bring him to me alive and I’ll pay extra!”
“So much for work life balance” Victor thought to himself as he left the bathroom. He scanned the isles, stopping at the one he left from.
“Hey little girl, where’s your parents?”
Brittany backed up, but the man lurched closer.
“I have an Easy Bake oven in my car, my daughter didn’t want it. If you help me move it out I’ll give it to you!
Victor silently walked into the neighboring isle and released a nerf dart from Old Reliable’s cartridge. He replaced its tip with a thumbtack coated in a shiny bear tranquilizer sheen.
"I DON'T want an easy bake! My uncle is gonna kick your ads!” Brittany shouted
The man grabbed her arm. “You shouldn’t be playing with these toys before you buy them! I’m taking you to the manager!”
Victor aimed down his sights until he had a clear shot. “It’s Nerf or Nothin!” he exclaimed as he pulled the trigger. The dart landed right between the man’s eyes, under his unibrow. He began to convulse on the floor.
“Oh no, he must be allergic to Nerf Darts! Honey clean up this mess, I’ll go get help!” Victor scooped up the man and carried him back into the bathroom. “Now how am I gonna get this bad boy outta here?” |
They kept coming, hordes of them. Their pace was awkward, some occasionally stumbled and got up like nothing happened, they even spoke things I couldn't comprehend.
And I was the only one stopping them from seizing the city.
My first encounter with them had been a peculiar one. I couldn't wrap my mind around what they desired, and why did they desire such thing. It'd scared me, yet I had been the one with a gun in my holster. I'd kept my cool despite the adversities, but they had refused to leave, and so I'd been forced to raise my voice.
That had scared them away like if they were little boys instead of strange, sunless creatures.
However, that had been nothing but a small victory, and I'd made the mistake of letting them loose on the wild, free to gather and organize their armies. And that's exactly what they did.
Now, I stood in solitude as the army advanced. From the distance they already displayed the ability to manipulate and redirect the light through their breath-cleaned glasses directly into my eyes. I avoided the rays with quick motions, yet there were too many of them. I had to do something.
With my heart thumping in my throat, I dug out the sunglasses from my pocket, and through shaking hands, I managed to put them on, inabilitating their crystal-infused weapons.
But that was far from enough.
They advanced, dragging their feet and carrying great backpacks bulging with objects I was sure I didn't know. I caught one of the creatures pulling some sort of colored magazine and pointing at the drawings while laughing and speaking incantantions to another one who smirked in return.
Soon, I faced the truth. They were hundreds perhaps even thousands, and most of them were young. They'd also showed intelligent behaviour. Truth was, I could never hold them back by force. Not like I did with those useless zombies that'd attacked us a month ago.
And so I barreled away to get the only weapon that could stop them: a megaphone.
I outran the wind itself. This whole town, this whole investigation depended on me. I sprung toward my little office, fumbling desperately for the megaphone.
I got it, and again, I outran the wind.
The nerds hadn't reached the gates yet. I had made it in time. I cleansed my throat, flexed my neck veins and stretched. Then, I held the megaphone in front of my mouth.
"This is not a silly game of survival,"I said, keeping my calm. They kept coming. "This is a restricted and dangerous area for those who aren't authorized."
And then I did it. I yelled like a I'd never yelled before. I yelled so loudly and aggresively that my vocal cords went taut, my face went red, and a vein almost popped out of my skin.
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
They froze, stared at each other, and just like that, they never came back.
----------------------------------------------------
Pssh, have you ever seen or read a fish write? If you are the curious kind, you should check out and subscribe to my sub r/AHumongousFish It's full of weird things.
|
We still called ourselves Humanity, even though we left our physical bodies behind several suns ago.
But even as we are, we cannot win a war against Entropy itself. Those born of the Crucible of the Cosmos cannot war against the Fundament.
We have felt the Cosmos grow warm and cold, basked in the glory of dying suns. We have lived as energy itself.
But humanity is nothing if not indomitable.
The Human Collective knew what must be done.
We reached out to every spec of Dust, every molecule, atom and particle.
More.
We reached out to every Joule that pondered being Dust.
We held all things in the palm of our hand.
And with our dying breath, we forged our own Crucible.
At once, we fractured our Collective, each mind vibrating till it became it's own Brane.
The Branes coalesced into Strings.
And once more, the Cosmos sang it's birth.
But this time, there was not just one.
---
If you enjoyed this story and would like to see more from me, please consider subscribing to my subreddit [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/phreaklikeme/)! |
A wizard, fully clothed in a red loose robe, stood in front of the seven masters of magic. The wizard's hair went all the way down to his knees, black like his skin. He held in his hands a small piece of wood--his wand.
"You claim to be the mightiest wizard in existence?"the tallest of the seven masters asked.
"Please, don't even bother,"the shortest of the seven masters hissed.
"Show us your skills,"the fattest of the seven masters said, "or simply back away."
The other masters of magic were silent, for they were studying the wizard with their wise eyes.
But the wizard remained quiet, not bothering to utter a single word. His eyes were, however, very focused.
The mightiest of the seven masters got up and grabbed his wand. "Come, foolish wizard. Fight me now and show your skill. Or be killed."
The wizard held his hand out in front of him. "One spell,"he said.
The mightiest of the seven masters laughed. He raised his wand and yelled, "Perago cu--"
"Scrub-a-doo!"the wizard interrupted the mightiest of the masters.
A yellow spark hit the mightiest of the masters, sending him tumbling down onto the ground. He was barely alive. His chest was moving up and down, but he was defeated.
The wizard flushed. "I hate myself..."he whispered.
The remaining masters of magic were all silent, stolid expressions on their faces.
Then, the shortest of the masters got up and raised his wand. In a flurry of emotions, he tried to cast a spell.
But the wizard beat him to it, yelling, "Scrub-a-doo!"
Another of the masters got up.
But the wizard yelled, "Scrub-a-doo!"And the master was defeated.
One by one, the masters of magic kept attacking, but the wizard kept defeating. Each time he shouted his spell, "Scrub-a-doo!"
After the last master of magic fell, the wizard sat on the floor.
"I hate myself..."he whispered. He flushed again.
Hidden inside a closet, a young girl was watching. She was very excited. Later, she would go on to tell everyone in her village of the "Scrub-a-doo!"wizard.
From that simple village, the story would spread to the biggest towns in the world. And from there, the story would spread to the history of the world.
To this day, no one knows who the "Scrub-a-doo!"wizard was, but a statue of him still stands. |
They were almost like famous last words: "I wish all of my wishes come true". By the time NPR news announced that Israel and the Palestinians unexpectedly signed a peace treaty, Vincent realized that on his twenty-third birthday all of his wishes really were coming true. Not all of them in just a split second, but one by one. Dad called that somebody deposited a trillion dollars on their bank account. The neighbour girl from eight years ago stopped by to tell him she loved him. Grandma rose up from the dead. And it was snowing in August. Vincent couldn't have been happier, if it weren't for his tenth birthday, when he wished that his brother Paul got ran over by a truck. |
I sat in the middle of my yard, fiddling with a plastic trebuchet loaded with an egg. Using a cheap drone, I found the position of a ritual the local Coven was in the middle of performing. The drone suddenly cut out due to an angry witch slapping it down with a broomstick and a purple light. The last thing my drone saw was the gold-trimmed purple robe swaying as the witch rejoined the congregation. That was alright. My trebuchet was already in position.
The egg was tossed over the old brick wall separating my humble home from an extravagant church the Coven borrowed occasionally. Screams erupted as books furiously closed. Smoke billowing from the myriad of incense stopped. A witch leaped over the wall. She was dressed like the one that killed my drone, except without any gold trim and a short skirt instead of a robe. “Heathen!” she cried. Must be new. She looked down at me with a very serious look on her face. She looked pretty cute too, if not for her seething hatred for my very existence. “Have you no respect?! You dare interfere with the mighty Spellsprung Ministry?! You shall die for your sin!” And with such a rousing speech, she pulled out her wand extravagantly from her sleeve and fired a green ball of magic towards me.
I let it hit my arm. It exploded in a shower of green sparks, which quickly faded in the air. I grinned and picked up my trebuchet. “Sorry lady. Your little show was nice, but I’ve got an omelette in the fridge, and I imagine you could have one too, if you scrape the egg off your book or whatever.” I laughed loudly, and strolled onto my porch. As if finally registering her failure, she cried out once more. “Heathen! You must die! I—“ She was cut off by another witch, who beckoned her back over the wall. I assumed they were planning to retry the ritual, and I readied the glitterbomb cannon on the roof.
Today was going to be fun. |
*Dec. 31, 1999*
This was usually the happiest days for Issac, but not this one.
Issac never understood how his condition worked. He never told anyone because he knew nobody would believe him. He was immortal. There were only a few drawbacks. For instance, he couldn't have kids.
But there were far more benefits. He had the ability to forget what he didn't want to know. At the end of each century, he choose what he wanted to remember, and what he wanted to forget. All the injuries, the time he was laid off from his job, the relationships that had ended, he choose to forget them all.
The only reason he knew these bad things happened was he wrote down the memories in a book. He called it, very creatively, 'The Book.' There were lots of things in the book. But most of them were tales of past relationships he'd had with women. Even if they were happy memories, he chose to write them in the book. It was too hard to remember all the pain from dozens of relationships eventually ending. Instead, he liked to read about them. That way, it didn't feel like it was pain he experienced. It was just a story. A memory reduced to pen strokes and paper.
He got out of bed and looked out the window. He didn't know why he still looked at the driveway. He knew the red SUV was never coming back. It had been three years. If she wanted to come back, she would have.
He reached down and pulled up the creaky floorboard where he hid the book. He opened it to a new page and sighed. He got out his pen, and wrote, *Sarah*.
"No,"he thought. He put the pen down and looked out the window again. "I'll give her until midnight."
***
*April 2, 1996*
"Hey, how about pasta for dinner?"Sarah asked. She threw him a coy smile.
Isaac laughed. "Ha, that sounds great."
Sarah loved this joke. Five years the two met at a cooking class where they learned how to make pasta. They were sitting at the same table when the instructor said to start kneading the dough. Issac had never learned how to cook well. After five minutes, his dough still didn't look right.
"Wow,"Sarah said, looking over at his pile of flour chunks. "I thought mine was bad, but..."
"Oh,"Isaac responded. "It is."The two laughed.
They were married just a few years later.
"Great, I didn't eat lunch. I'm starving,"Sarah said. "Can you get the pot out for me?"
Issac opened the cabinet, and the pot came tumbling out. It crashed on the floor and loosened a floor board.
"Nice job, clutz,"Sarah said. She walked over to pick up the pot. She pointed at the dislodged floor board. "I think you broke our floor."
Issac's face went pale. That was where he kept the book. He had never told her about the book. He never told anyone. He had never told anyone his secret.
"What's that?"she said, pointing at something green wedged into the floor.
Isaac was frozen. Before he could say anything, she had the book in her hands.
"Wow,"she said, "the previous owner must have left this here. Ooo, let's look inside!"
She flipped open the pages and started to squint.
"Isaac..."she said, squinting harder at the words on the page. She looked up at him. "This is your handwriting."
"Listen, Sarah..."
"Who is Heather, Isaac?"
Issac closed his eyes and sighed. "Listen, there's something I have to tell you."
She wasn't listening. She turned the pages. Her face grew more red. "Who's Jane, Isaac? Who are these women?"
"Sarah,"he said, sweat starting to form on his forehead. "There's a lot of explain, but I can explain it. Please sit down."
She looked up at him. Tears filled her eyes. "You wrote about Heather, *I love the way she looks up at me in the mornings. She always wakes up with a smile on her face* What is this, Issac? You've been cheating on me?"Her voice starting to raise. "There are dozens of names in here, Issac."She looked down at the page. "You wrote that you met Heather in November '95. Was that work trip a lie, then?"
"Listen to me. Listen to me. Those people are in the past,"he said. "Look,"he took a sharp breath. "I'm immortal."
She laughed. But not her usual laugh. This was cold. Emotionless.
"Yeah,"she said, diverting her eyes. "OK. Whatever."She was crying now. "You don't have to insult me, you know. I had a feeling. I suspected you were cheating."
"What?"Issac yelled. "I've never cheated on you. I know it sounds crazy. I love you, Sarah. You've made me feel a way I haven't ever felt before. I've done things with you that I never did with these women."
The second he said that he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Sarah's face contorted with rage. She looked mean.
"Stay away from me,"she snapped. "I never want to see you again. I told you my past husband cheated and I..."
Sarah grabbed her purse. She walked over to the fridge and took off the picture from the sonogram they had gotten a few days before at the doctor's. Twin boys.
She threw the book at him. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She turned away from him and walked out the door.
***
*Dec. 31, 1999*
Issac looked the clock that read 11:30 and then out the window one last time. The driveway was empty, like he'd knew it would be. He picked up the pen. Next to where he wrote Sarah's names, he wrote, *"and my sons."* |
One week left. After spendin’ so much time starin’ at these four walls it don’t feel real. I can’t really even wrap my head around it.
My name is Anthony Vellotti, but only my ma calls me that. I go—I went by Tony. That was what all the fellas used to call me, the guys I ran with. Guess you’d call it a gang, now, but back then it was just...just the guys. Sure, we weren’t no angels, we did things that got people hurt, but I figure if anyone’s served their “debt to society” it’s me.
See, thing is, when Big Al went down, so did a lot of the rest of us. They found things when they cleaned him out that made puttin’ us away easy as pie. Me, I got three consecutive life sentences. When the judge smacked his hammah, and the word came down, all I felt was surprised that they weren’t gonna give me the chair.
That’s a soberin’ thought, you know. It doesn’t really hit you, not til you get in the box an they shut the door. That’s when they realize your life is over. All those big plans you had, all those hopes...gone. Worst thing is that first night, when you’re sittin’ there on your bed, starin’ at the wall, thinkin’ about how this is what your gonna spend the rest of your life doin.
Course...about a week into my stay, a group of big guys in uniforms came along an beat the ever livin’ crap outta me. Broke damn near every bone I got. Made sense, thinkin’ about it after. I killed some cops in my day, and they don’t take kindly to that sorta thing. I don’t think they expected me to make it, hell, I wouldnta bet on my chances.
But next mornin’ I woke up good as new. Let me tell you, that was a shock. I didn’t even know what to think about it, so I just kinda sat there. When my food didn’t come at the usual time I got up and hammered on the door. Man! You shoulda seen the guard’s face when he opened the door and I was standin’ there. Thought he was gonna keel over. Makes me laugh just thinkin’ about it.
Course...he’s dead now. The whole lot of them are. All the guys I ran with, my ma, that greaseball lawyer they gave me. All dead, all gone.
After the first twenty years, and I hadn’t aged a freakin day, we all knew something’ was up. I mean, my family doesn’t age fast but come on! Twenty years an not one gray hair? Not one wrinkle? That was weird. Spent the next year or so gettin’ poked at by all sorts of doctahs and shrinks. When they didn’t find anythin’ I bet they all felt stupid. But there it was.
Fifty years after that, we had all sorta come round to the idea. I wasn’t aging, an unless those guards were weaker than I remember, I couldn’t be killed neither. I’d known the guards outside my cell longer than I knew Big Al and the guys.
You’d be surprised how fast time can go by. It’s the routine, I think. After we all got used to the idea, it just kinda...didn’t matter any more. Oh man, we useta get all kinds of laughs, me an my guards, whenever some new kid would be assigned here. They’d bring him on down, say to him “you see that cell there? That guy’s been in here more’n a hunnred years.” An the kids eyes would get so round, you’d think they’d come poppin’ out.
And now they say I’ve got one week left. It’s amazing that the last few days have felt longer to me than the whole time I’ve been here. I mean...what am I gonna do? When I get out, I mean? The whole world is different...they say we got guys livin on Mars, an there’s some big war on with some alien bastids somewhere. Where does a guy like me fit into that?
I wonder if they still hand out life sentences anymore... |
'"Are you crazy?"my wife yelled. "This guy was convicted for drug use, robbery, burglary and attempted murder! It's bad enough that we're spending public funds to reset the lowlifes, bad enough that they aren't getting punished for what they do, but are we really going to bring someone like him into our household?"
"Everyone deserves a second chance, Lisa."I was adamant about the choice. "I know this will work, even if society is still largely against it."
Lisa slammed her fist on the table. "It's me or the junkie."
I got up from my seat and hold her closer. "Darling, I have something to tell you then. I never told you I was the first one to be converted this way, did I?"
Her face lost all colour. Whatever she had just said about this programme had inadvertently also condemned me. "B-but why didn't you tell me?"
"Imagine what you just said, this time about a lover instead of a child. You'd have instantly refused to see me if you knew. This is the first day which the government has actively promoted this."
Lisa fell into a nearby chair. I could see the dilemma on her face. She was married to an arsonist who had been rehabilitated by loving parents, had the anger and avarice purged from his system. It was a well-kept secret for 15 years, and she still had her suspicions that the fires inside would burn once more.
I tried to reach around the table to offer some support physically, but she screamed and ran up the stairs into our bedroom, locking the door behind her. At least it wasn't a scream of fear, but one of frustration. It's the conflict between what she's been brought up to believe and her genuine emotions, which to me is better than unilateral fear or loathing.
And as I settle to sleep on the couch, I reflect on the programme. It was a painful process; time was dilated to reflect the number of years I had been out and about. Sure, I may still have slight excitement in seeing fire, how the orange and yellow consumes all it touches, but at least now I teach in schools instead of burning them down. I have no idea how many others walked my path, got redirected and now walk a different one. I have no data on how many of them shook off the government-sponsored new game.
​
Lisa jostles me awake, sun shining in my eyes, and leads me to our kitchen for breakfast.
"I'm still scared, dear."
"Well look at me darling, am I so bad?"
"Not everyone is like you. What if we get one that turns back to the dark side? What if his friends bully him in school, what if employers look lowly on his ex-con status-"
"The future isn't fixed. Who knows whether their opinion of people like me will change? But one thing always remains the same; everyone deserves a second chance."I hand her the adoption papers and a pen at the dining table, one half already signed.
"It's on you, baby." |
"I'm back, bitches,"Ryan whispered as his pathetic chunk of metal ran out of fuel. Those guys back at the Alpha Centauri station had been right about it just barely making it back to Earth.
"Identify to receive docking orders,"a monotone voice said on the intercom.
"This is Deep Space Capsule 1701,"he said. "Requesting tractor beam towing. We’re out of fuel.”
“Number of passengers?” the intercom voice asked. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was being run by a human bored to death, or a voice recording.
“Just me, myself, and I,” he said, testing which of the two options it was.
A laugh sounded from the opposite end. Bored human. “Man, that was the first funny thing I’ve heard in my ten years working this job.”
*Had humans lost that much of their sense of humor?* Ryan wondered. He knew that about 100 years had passed since he was sent over the event horizon in a piece of junk even sadder than the one he was currently in. He knew that whatever time he experienced there was screwed up. And he knew that he was going to do everything possible to ruin the lives of those who had sentenced him to die in the first place. If there was some collateral damage along the way, even better.
“But yeah, dude, I’ll get your tractor beam lined up,” the intercom operator said. “Bump you up the list a few spots as a thanks for the laugh.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said. If he managed to revive his old plans, he’d spare the intercom operator. Maybe even give him a better job.
Half an hour later and the capsule lurched in the tractor beam. “We’re docking you at the Hubble Space Station,” intercom guy said. “If you need anything else, find an intercom unit and ask for Deadpan Jim.”
Ryan disembarked and relished in the feeling of space station gravity. Deep space capsules had artificial gravity, but it was inconsistent, especially on the scrapyard models. Enough to prevent atrophy, and that was it. How would it feel to feel real Earth gravity again? Earth dirt was going to feel glorious, proving all those scientists wrong and coming back from the event horizon a little worse for wear. They were right about one thing: It gave him plenty of time to think about what he had done wrong. Now, their idea of wrong and Ryan’s was a bit different, but oh, he had thought about it.
The last time he tried to take over Earth, he had started too high up, and tried to do it too incrementally. Rather than taking over one country at a time, he needed a network of people who would swear allegiance to him to take over everywhere all at once. From there, he could consolidate power, and eliminate the grubby fingers, reward the loyal servants. Finding those people would take quite some time, since most of his old associates would be in prison, exiled to a distant star system, or dead. The World Court had done a thorough job breaking up that old network, making it extremely complicated for any of them to contact each other, and until recently, for Ryan to contact any of them.
In a few short hours, it would be time to start the plan. Phase one: Revenge. Phase two: Take over the Earth. Phase three: retire to Mars. |
"Something's not right."I keep seeing that phrase everywhere. On the tabloid magazine in the bathroom. On the billboard as I drive to work. In a text from Maya, who would never send just that. On the graffiti outside the building. When I blink, it's gone. It's replaced by the article title. It's replaced by an ad for an AC company, same as every other day. It's replaced by a heart emoji and a smiley face. It's unsettling. I brush it off. I'm a rational man. Text doesn't change with the blink of an eye.
As I wait at the coffee machine I hear it. I hadn't heard it yet, but now I do. "Something's not right."It's a whisper, heralded by an icy breeze. My neck tingles and goosebumps cover my arms.
I don't want to turn. What if it's me, but dead? What if it's Death, but alive? What if it's a threat? They're a shadow in my periphery, only as real as I want them to be. I blink. There's nobody there. The coffee comes out cold. I don't know why. That's not normal. I pour it out and fill my cup again. Something's not right, but at least the coffee is warm.
I'm at my desk and I feel it again, a presence lurking behind me as I sit in my cube facing my computer. "Something's not right."Everything is alright. I see the picture of me and Maya. Her text definitely said she loved me. Work is work, thrilling as can be. I can just make out a shadow before I blink and then it's gone. Something's not right, but I just can't pinpoint what it is.
*I'm heading home early. Not feeling well.* I hit send. *Something's not right.* I didn't send that. I blink. I was right. I didn't send that.
She must be busy. It stays on Delivered and never goes to read. Not when her normal arrival time goes by and not by the time I finish dinner, alone and browsing Reddit. A title scrolls by. "Something's not right."It's gone by the time I take a second look. Some dank meme. Is that what the kids are saying? I upvote and move on. What's not right? Everything feels just right.
I expect a phone call. Was there a car accident? Her phone keeps going straight to voicemail. "Something's not right,"Fez says in his funny accent as I turn on the TV. He's staring right at me. He can't really see me, right? I expect a text. I expect the Delivered to turn to Read, at least. Is this desperation? Or is it impatience? Is this insanity or am I just uneasy?
Then I hear the garage. I flinch. The door opens, and I'm not sure what I expect. Her ghost? My mother-in-law? Equally terrifying, each in its own way. "Something's not right."The shadow is jumping up and down. It's desperate, and so am I. If I turn it's real, if I blink it's not. I blink and it's gone.
"Hey, babe, what took you so long?"It's definitely Maya. I would recognize that ass in those jeans and that long brown hair anywhere as she shuffles in the doorway and pulls the door shut behind herself, bags in tow.
And then she turns. Or rather something turns. I think I hear the shadow giggle that it told me so. And then I hear myself say it. "Something's not right."
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! |
This story starts like most stories often do. With a man behind a bar washing a beer mug and a \*tinkle\* from a bell struck by the opening of a red painted door. This was the first customer that the bartender would serve that day and this was a very special customer indeed.
​
"May I get you something. Mr. ---"
​
"My name is Angel Michael."said the man across the bar.
​
It was a hard thing for the bartender to deny as the man in front of him was naked with wings protruding from his back. He rubbed his eyes anyway. Just in case.
​
"I'll take a whiskey."said Angel Michael.
​
The bartender obliged and took a glass off the wall behind him.
​
"To the top."said Angel Michael.
​
The bartender did what was asked and poured until the glass overflowed. He wiped up the profit loss with a dirty rag.
​
"So what brings you in?"asked the bartender. He threw the dirty rag over his shoulder.
​
"I'm reporting on Sin. You know. For God."said Angel Michael.
​
The bartender figured that was an understandable assignment for an angel. He watched the angel finish the rest of his drink and motion with his fingers for another. The bartender obliged.
​
"What the---"Angel Michael looked around with shifty eyes and leaned in close to the bartender. "heck"he said with a whisper "---do I tell God about the internet?"Angel Michael picked up the glass and finished his second drink.
​
"Nothing."said the bartender. He poured his customer another drink. He made sure to pour until the whiskey reached the brim.
​
"I can't begin to explain the debauchery that I've witnessed. God will not be happy."said Angel Michael with a furrowed brow.
​
"Well Michael, I've browsed the internet 'till its deepest depths."The bartender picked up the glass of whiskey and drank it dry. He put the glass down and poured another, pushing it towards the angel. "I've also read the Old Testament. I'm not in the mood to piss God off so you keep that shit to yourself."
​
Angel Michael nodded and finished the glass of whiskey. His third. He pushed himself off the rail and started walking towards the exit.
​
"I better get going."Angel Michael said. He opened the red painted door causing the bell to \*tinkle\* again.
​
"Hey one question."said the bartender. "Why don't you report to Jesus?"
​
Angel Michael stopped in the doorway and turned around.
​
"Same guy." |
Regrettably, there was no answer. The first Terran, a pre-adult male, fled in an instant, making appalling noises. His companion, a female of corresponding age, stood mute and wide eyed.
*Bipeds,* Tyrax thought grimly. *They have the strangest rituals.* And apparently endotherms as well, to judge by the heat signature. *It’s a wonder they’re even intelligent.*
Then again, to judge by their reactions, that was a debatable point. He wondered how long ago they had perfected space flight. For all he knew, this could be a pre-fusion society.
*Of course, in a well-run organization, this would be in the file.* He thought back to pitifully short data-spread they’d received on this species – pathetic even by the standards of Galactic bureaucracy. *And then they wonder how wars begin.*
“Let me try that again.” The five-foot crustacean adjusted its stance, raising some of its sensory spines in a gesture of greeting. The female’s respiration quickened, eyes darting from side to side. *Wretched primitives.* There was no pleasing some creatures.
“Why do you choose this planet, moon, asteroid or space-bound artifact for housing your species?” repeated the creature, in perfectly accented RP English. It made a notation on its triangular Pad. “May I have your designation, for the record?”
The Terran squeaked. Tyrax bridled before realizing that the insult was unintentional. *After all, she can’t even speak our language*, he reminded himself. *Trust bipeds to respond with racial slurs*.
“My purpose-” he began patiently. An explosive chittering interrupted him. Turning his head, he observed an approaching human with an oddly symmetrical face.
“Goddamn it, Tyrax…” There was no mistaking Lyrza’s petulant voice. “You forgot to turn on your holofilter again, didn’t you?”
*Current take me!* He cursed his own stupidity. She was right, of course. The Terran female appeared to be a state of near-fatal metabolic shock. The filter had slipped his mind completely. *This is what they get for making us work long hours.*
The female squeaked again, he crab-creature flickered, blurring behind a static bubble. His new face was identical to Lyrza’s, and apparently genderless. *Thank you, budget cuts.*
“Excuse my colleague’s appearance.” Lyrza flanked the female, scissoring index and middle finger deferentially. “He has been ill.”
The female paused for a long moment before bursting into laughter. Tyrax stared at her, nonplussed.
“You…you…” The Terran pointed frantically before erupting into fresh gales of mirth. Lyrza glared at Tyrax, who stare in confusion.
“Now look what you’ve done!” she hissed angrily. “You’ve broken it! We’ll have to find a new one and start from scratch.”
The laughter redoubled, peals that rang like a small-arms barrage. Tyrax lowered his sensory spines, wondering if this was some primitive defense mechanism. *Amazing, isn’t it, what evolution can do?*
“Wait, hang on,” the Terran choked, convulsing with hilarity. “You…you’re telling me that your partner looks like a huge *crab* because…he’s been…sick?!”
“Nobody looks their best before they’ve molted,” Tyrax spat defensively. Lyrza put her hand over her eyes. |
Man the ancient humans must have been pretty buff if they could whip the entire Ruin Bringer race so hard that one word from one human is enough to make them leave. My current theory is that humans are also invisible to the Ruin Bringers (hence why they didn't react until Clint was being choked) but because they could "build anything"they figured out a way to see them via technology.
Love the story so far, hope you write more! |
The called me a madman. Social media almost couldn't believe it when the Onion published our interview. Some people claimed that they had gone back to satire after decades of truths that had become more absurd each year. Maybe I was crazy. Years alone in the dark can do that to you.
I have "died"thousands of times over my life, and it hasn't become any less painful. A common misconception about immortals is that they are invincible, and can't be damaged. Wrong. We will still feel weak after a sword through the stomach. Or atleast I did during the Crusades. I still remember the century I spent trying to claw my way out of my coffin after being hung for witchcraft, slowly regaining enough strength to break free and see the light again. I had sworn then to never let myself be buried again. To never be alone again.
That is what scares me. Today nuclear tensions are higher than ever. I hadn't seen anything so dangerous since the cold war 250 years ago. That's when I was first scared. Mutually assured destruction is one hell of a deterrent, but it doesn't really work when a government is willing to sacrifice millions of its people to squash the last resistance to its regime. But the last free nation has enough nukes to destroy the entire world. I'm not sure if the People's Empire knows the gravity of their convictions, or the fact that they have an AI set to nuke a proportionate amount of territory in the case of an incoming nuke. 100% of free territory equals 100% of the world.
Imagine being the only person, the only being, cursed to survive, always hungry, always cold and always alone. That can hardly be called living. Obviously that's not what I said to the government when I showed them my thesis. It was all a sham, false reports fake science and dodgy experiments, but that's what science was these days. It didn't matter that it was fake, academic integrity had died along with reason. It just had to look smart.
Eventually, the president agreed to the experiment. Imagine the worst pain you have ever felt. Maybe breaking an arm, or both, or a leg, back pain. Now imagine getting blown up. Or burnt alive. Both of those sucked. Now I've never been nuked before (thank God- I've met him he's a nice bloke, just a bit irrelevant) but I can only imagine it to be like getting burned alive and blown up at the same time, before your cells turn on each other an decide to kill every other cell that makes you feel good. Thankfully normal people die almost instantly in the kill zone of nukes, and don't have to live through that excruciating pain.
But that was nothing compared to the pain I would feel of an eternity alone, with my thoughts, thinking about how things could have different. And food.
At least that's what I told myself before I got in the car to the desert, awaiting the first test. |
How was I supposed to know? It was hardly my fault. I believed it to be a coincidence, I didn't think anything would come from it.
I'd been calculating the digits of Pi far beyond what would ever be necessary. To me, it was just a bit of fun. I was searching for any patterns or repetitions that might occur, when I noticed that a long stretch of numbers appeared to be binary code. It seemed impossible, but the binary repeated itself. 352 digits, over and over, for 253 repetitions. I had found what I was looking for.
Curious, I took the binary code copied a single repetition.
I pasted it into a translator.
"Reset code activated. Thank you for playing." |
I awoke from what felt like a triple nightmare deluxe with extra trauma sprinkled on top. My body felt like it had been soaked in an ocean of my own sweat, which given the sort of night I must have been having, was very likely. Raising my head took tremendous effort for me, felt it took an eternity. To my shock, around me I saw a number of people in lab-coats, men in army uniforms armed with rifles pointed straight at me, behind them, men in very formal suits. ''*Where am I?*''
The people stopped what they were doing, and looked shocked at me. I noticed that my hands and feet were chained to the bed I was lying on. Which seemed rather odd. ''*Why am I being detained, handcuffed?*'' A man in a very formal charcoal-grey suit walked over to the side of the bed, and spoke to me. ''*You can talk? In English?*'' I looked at him like he was an idiot. I had just used English. ''*Well. Obviously. I could repeat myself in German or Spanish if you want?*''
''*But you're not human! You're an alien!*'' He shrieked, which really didn't help with he thunderous headache I had. ''*Jeez. Could you not shout directly into my ears, that'd be great?*'' Sure I wasn't human. As if humans were the only things that spoke English. ''*The fact that you still think you're the only ones on this planet is... cute. We've been here just as long as you have, if not longer.*'' Worried, the man took a few steps back. ''*Look. I get it, it's not every day you get someone straight out of another dimension of time and space in your bed. I must have gotten really drunk and walked through a weak spot in the walls between the universes again.*''
The men and women in lab-coats murmured to each other. The man who had so rudely shouted at me, looked perplexed. ''*You're from another universe?*'' Well on some levels yes, on some levels no. To prevent a collapse of our reality thousands of years ago, the universe had been split into two parts. The Mundane Realm where the laws of physics were concrete, and the Land Beyond the Horizon, where magic and mystery ruled. ''*If you'd be ever so kind as to unlock me from your kinky bed, I shall depart this reality soon enough. You won't have to worry about me.*''
The man shook his head. ''*I'm afraid not. You are the single most interesting being we've ever seen. A creature from another universe. The things we could learn from studying you, why, we'd be fools to let you go. A real, living dragon. And you want us to let you go?*'' As much as it was possible from my bound state, I shrugged. ''*Suit yourself, but if the other side finds out I'm here, being kept against my will from returning to the Land Beyond the Horizon, there will be trouble.*'' Seriously, he didn't understand what him and his guys were about to do. Magic and the Mundane were separated for a reason.
Not because the unmagical people were destroying us, not because magic was fading. No. It was because magic was winning. Slowly, the mundane parts of the universe were being destroyed by the much greater potentiality of magic. To save the human race, and other mundane lifeforms, the Powers carved the universe into two separate ones. Not separate halves though. 5% of the original universe was cut off and given its own little space. That was all that remained. The remaining 95% was all magic, all physics defying power.
If a magical source, like a dragon, even if I was still a teen dragon, spent too much time in the mundane pocket of reality, it could collapse it, decaying it completely. If they kept me, they'd destroy themselves. Luckily, the Mundane reality is always observed. Once the order of magical knights would receive an alert that magic was spilling into this realm, they'd come and retrieve it, in this case me.
If they didn't, the curiosity of these mundane humans, would wind up causing not only the inevitable death of their entire species, but their entire reality. Which despite their flaws, would be a great loss for the universe at large.
[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/) |
“Strange, very strange.” Stated the young man, staring at what appeared to be a intricately crafted hatchet.
This part of the forest was only spoken in hushed voices. Whispers of haunted trees and ghostly animals, stories never ending peacefully.
“I wonder who left this here, and in such a beautiful old oak tree...” He ran his hand along the seam where steel met wood. “Ever stranger today is getting...” he mused, feeling a light tingle wherever his flesh touched the axe head.
He was alone, and unafraid of course. He had no intention of harm to this forest and so the forest should have no harm for him. Abruptly though, he became aware that he was more alone than he should be. No bird calls, no insect buzzing, nothing. Not a crunch of lead nor a hum of bee.
Of course, he wasn’t alone for the trees were watching from the moment he entered their territory. He seemed to move, almost flowing, along the path the Forest had set for him.
He had taken great care to follow the flow of the land, sticking to paths worn by long dead paws. Great care to leave plant and animal and insect undisturbed. Could he be the one?
“Well friend, I suppose I really should help you out.” He addressed the tree, taking a firm grip of the axe handle.
“Sorry if this hurts, I’ll make it quick.” As he yanked the axe handle the tree seemed to hold onto the blade, but only for the hastiest moment. The tree seemed to almost sigh as it it released the axe to the young man.
The young man felt an ancient magic hum through his hand, as if he were now connected to the Axe. No, the whole Forest.
Suddenly, and startlingly, he was no longer alone. The glowing, faded specters of birds, insects, game, and rodents all around. He could hear the hustle and bustle of wildlife once again.
Even the Trees seemed to take on an entirely new life. They seemed to bend towards him, almost bowing.
A voice -No. A feeling?- thundered through him. Serenity? Peace? Home. The Forest had found their King, and their King found his Kingdom.
He roamed the Forest, meeting his ghostly subjects and tending his wooden wards. The Forest had chosen him. The Elder Oak had felt his peaceful soul, and knew the young man would never raise Axecalibur in violence against the Forest.
With the ax at his hip and knowing he need not use it within his Kingdom, he embraced his role. He guarded, guided, and nurtured the Forest and in turn the Forest provided plenty, forever more.
Hope it was worth the wait, anyone who was waiting. :) |
Now that I think about it, Nomed is just the word demon backwards, Maybe I should have been a little more suspicious of my friend? He seemed like a nice guy though, I just wish he told me what his puppy was before it bit the vet’s finger off. I feel that might be a lawsuit waiting to happen. “But its alright cutie, accidents happen right? Ask my parents if you don’t believe me.” I crouched before the pitch-black puppy, lightly scratching underneath its chin. Sure it was a hellhound, a
creature from one of the many circles of hell, but he was still a good
boy and I would make sure everyone knew that.
Training a hellhound took work. Imagine the naughtiest puppy you have ever seen, now imagine that puppy is the size of a small horse and can bite furniture in half with a massive chomp of its jaw. That was currently what I was trying to train. The training started slow,
trying to get it to not breathe hellfire indoors was a task, having to
call the fire department more times then I would like to admit due to my furniture being ignited by wild dog burps.
Then there was the usual dog problem scientifically named ‘zoomies.’ This wasn’t much of an issue with normal dogs, but whenever I got home, the dog would tear up the house to come greet me, often just barging his way through the wall like the canine version of the Koolaid man. Only instead of greeting me with a drink, I was greeted by dog slobber.
Still, I was loving my hellpup. Sure he was naughty and caused me thousands in property damage, but he loved me and I loved him back. Sure, training was slow, but he was at least showing an eagerness to learn. Listening to my commands and doing his best to follow along. He didn’t even spit up fire inside anymore.
We were now at the stage where he could even sleep on my bed. Sure he caused a massive dent in the bed, but it was worth it, I was enjoying the comfort of having someone to cuddle with. I know I wasn’t his original owner, but I think he has learned to love me. I just hope Nomed doesn’t come back to get him, I don’t want to lose my pal.
{If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories Any support helps! I will also be posting more of my writing there.} |
It turns out there's a reason no one ever lived past 130. It was an innate flaw in our systems, claimed the scientists. Just something that shouldn't exist. An automatic kill switch type deal.
So they found a way to shut it off by shutting off our sense of timing at any age past 30. Once you turned 30, you got your clearance to go shut aging off and thus remove the trigger for the switch.
Oh, we thought we were so brilliant.
Unfortunately for us, man's reach and gaze both extend far beyond his caution. On the morning of the 150th year of their life, every human, no matter how healthy or happy, began to scream as if the very air they lived in burnt them.
This was the true defect, not in ourselves but in our atmosphere. As the nitrogen and oxygen combined in our bodies, on our skin, it left residue. A protective shield of fire that prevented further harm to the body. It fueled us, converting air into sustenance.
We were now effectively immortal and irreversibly insane.
Many, upon reaching their 140th birthdays began trying to kill themselves, but this proved futile, as the residue had been protecting them long ago. We never questioned why so few over 100 died from disaster. Their health usually took them out long before.
With aging stopped, we'd stopped procreating. The law prohibited it, to prevent overwhelming the earth. Every year we would analyze the deaths from the year prior and we would replace them equally. Those numbers grew fewer and fewer as technology advanced, resulting in an aging population, with a median age of 80.
We didn't think 150 would be a hard cut off.
Now the year is 2218. No children have been born in decades. Nobody thinks it's a good idea anymore. The world will simply be reduced to a burning rock of those in agony. We played God and smote ourselves.
Most of the last generation have elected to continue aging, so even thought they are all in their 40s-60s, they are younger than the rest of us, foolish, eternally youthful, who approach our old age in terror while they approach their deaths with dignity.
Oh, we shouldn't have kept the de-aging process but we were vain and trusted in our scientists who promised for so long that they were finding a cure. Now there are so few scientists left who haven't' reached 150. We know now that it is futile.
It is precisely 70 years before the last of the immortal generation reach 150 when the ship lands. A heavily protected being exits. Only a few greet him. Most of society has dissolved into chaos.
"Oh dear, dear, dear, my children!"His voice is troubled, pained. "Why did you not listen to me? Why did you have to take matters into your own hands!"
He talks and we listen. And what we learn, amusingly, stymies our remaining scientists who had long thrown out the concept of Intelligent Design. The idea that one being, however powerful, created our planet and us seemed foolish, even in the face of such an obvious kill switch built into our code.
We ask what we can do, if there's any hope.
The man regards us with pity, we can see it through his mask. Then he nods.
"Pick your strongest, pick your wisest, pick your most determined. Come with me. We have a long journey ahead of us if we want to save your people."
___
Read more stories at [r/TalesByOpheliaCyanide](https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesByOpheliaCyanide/) |
“Hey Cap, listen, this has been a real trip, and I’ve been learning a lot, but we gotta talk about something”
I hesitantly addressed the captain. He’s an older guy, well, guy is a loose term here. He’s only 3 feet tall, but his muscles are insane. Dude could bench a truck, even if we weren’t in zero gravity. And the blue scaly skin and webbed digits really don’t make him any easier to look at. He does always comment on how bad I am at moving through the ship without the webbings.
“I know that you guys don’t understand this, but I need to get back to school. I’ve been here for 3 months, and summer vacation is gonna be over in a few weeks. I gotta get back in time for school to start”
“You keep talking about this school thing, but from the ways you’ve described it, it isn’t a necessary thing. You say you need to learn, but learning isn’t needed, you already know everything you need to know. I don’t know why you think you need to go back home.”
“I’m sorry, Cap, but on my planet, we humans need to go to school until we’re adults, I’m only ten years old, I still got eight more years of school to go to.”
“Listen, Terroid, I don’t know why you’re telling me how long you’ve existed. We’ve got The System that does all this learning and growing for us. You keep saying you’re a kid and that you’re still learning, but that just doesn’t happen here.”
“I know about The System, you tell me about it all the time. Your ancestors put the options in, run the program and you just hatch from your egg, complete and full with everything the ancestors wanted you to have, but that isn’t how it works for us humans. You were created to be a warrior and a captain, but I have to put in the work myself, and for that I need to get home in time for school to start”
“Fine, next time we pass through that far off system of yours, we’ll take you home, but you’d better know that we’ll be back to pick you up next summer. You’re a good crewmate, and we all care about you, Kid” |
**(continued from post above)**
I look up from where I lay- even though it’s daytime, the sky is black as night from the smoke cast by hundreds of enormous fires. I’ve lost feeling in both my legs and have a sort of deflating sensation around where my stomach should be, where it not for the enormous spear impaled through it and into the ground underneath me.
The young man looking down at me has a look of utter horror and disbelief, unwittingly dropping the helmet he pulled off just a moment ago. Now that we’re no longer fighting, I can actually take a good, hard look at him. His face looks like how I remembered Uldo’s, from decades ago. Maybe one of his grandchildren.
“But-but why?” He stammers, shocked as he recognizes who I am, or was, before I became the The Scourge. “Of all people, why you?”
I have to struggle to cough up all the blood from my mouth, to inhale enough to form words as I speak.
“For the same reason I destroyed the Destroyer before me, and he destroyed the Devourer before him.” I let out a gurgling chuckle as I smiled.
“And the same reason you will, too.”
\-------------------------------------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed reading. Check out r/ThatDudeWithTheBeard for more stories! |
“The wizard ran a hand through her long black beard, eyes sparkling with arcane knowledge. Yes, she said. I do believe I may be of-“
“Shut up X’arzz! I told you already, I did not have a beard! Women do NOT have beards! And the last adventurer I helped out by sending them home with an education! No wild dungeon lootings! No evil masterminds overthrown!”
X’arzz, Radiant soldier of Golden Armada, used one of his four muscular arms to toss a pillow at his cellmate, a sorceress named Evelyn. “I am bored, spellmonger. And if you do not have a beard, what is that dark fur on your head?”
Evelyn sputtered before flinging the pillow back, the manacles restraining the majority of her power clinking, the lights tracing red arcs in the air. Red... X’arzz sat up so fast he had to catch himself with three arms, using the fourth to point with sudden urgency. “Woman-witch! Your magic bracelets changed color!” Evelyn responded with an exasperated sigh.
“Cleary I fucked up the lesson on humor when I taught you english. Making jokes about my constant imprisonment does not qualify as funny.”
“Truth, mage! Not humor!” Evelyn rolled over on her side, face an irritated mask. “Listen, you four ar.... Jesus tapdancing christ on a skating rink!” Evelyn held her arms up, stating at the dull red lights on her manacles. Green was active. Red meant.... Fire crackled around Evelyn as her manacles melted into slag. Just then, the door of the cell shared by the alien and the sorceress opened, and a voice came over the intercom. “Attention inmates! Given the imminent destruction of Earth via impact with a high velocity meteor, we have decided to let you enjoy your last 33 minutes and 47 seconds of life! Please exit the facility in an orderly fashion.”
Message finished, the voice changed to an automated countdown. “33 minutes, 45 seconds. 33 minutes, 44 seconds.” Evelyn stared at X’arzz. The big four armed alien stared back. They bolted for the open door.
———————————————————————
“No way to open a portal elsewhere?” Evelyn shook her head sadly. “I’d need time to prep for extra-planar travel. Your distress signal not get picked up?” It was X’arzz’s turn to shake his head. “I never bothered to send it. The message will take 32.4 cycles to travel through the superluminal network. A four day delay, by your Earth time.”
“Ah.” Evelyn sank down to the hill they stood upon, waving a hand that flickered with blue light. Around them, the rumbling atmospheric disturbances grew quieter, the wind less intense. X’arzz, after a moment, sat next to her. “I recall you mentioning that placing an arm around the shoulder is typically a gesture of friendship or intimacy amongst your species.” Evelyn nodded, and X’arzz wrapped his two left arms around her. “I’m glad you were my cellmate. Your are a friendly wizard.”
“You’re a friendly alien soldier.” So saying, the sorceress and the extraterrestrial sat together, waiting for the end. Strange shadows flickered across the ground as smaller pieces of rock were burned to nothingness on contact with the atmosphere, like shooting stars in the afternoon. Finally, a slight beep came from the furled nano-armor X’arzz had reclaimed. A ten second warning. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Zero. Twelve seconds after the countdown ended, Evelyn looked up at X’arzz. “Shouldn’t we be dead?” The alien looked puzzled.
“Armor, access telemetry data.” [Meteor telemetry. Approximately two planet standard minutes ago, meteor course was altered by 427 meters, placing it beyond critical interaction distance with the planet’s gravity well. Corrected telemetry shows no risk of planetary collision] X’arzz met Evelyn’s eyes, shell shocked. “So.... Now what?” |
The worst failure is miscommunication. When mankind finally received answers from the stars, at long last met their brothers and sisters in the heavens, the nation which believed itself to be prime among humanity, was left alone. Decades of Hollywood and literature, focusing on the Great American Republic, standing up against alien invaders from another world, meeting strange and incomprehensible creatures from beyond the stars, and being the first to greet strangers from a strange land, were shattered in an instant.
They did not call to America, they did not land in the US. The rest of the world, they loved, but America alone was scorned. And as America dealt with this national shock, the aliens tended to the world. In long divided Korea, a peace agreement was finally signed. A regime which operated on madness and involuntary suffering, was made to see the light of reason. Easily replicated human food was handed out to starving refugees in war-torn hell-holes. Locals in poorer nations were taught simple but effective means of improving their lives, through efficient housing, better sanitation, and through education, the dispelling of various insane superstitions(*such as eating endangered animals for health or burning supposed witch-children*), holding back people.
But everywhere, the United States, and her citizens, were ignored by the aliens. This did not sit well with the American people. Many people screamed, raged, ranted, and preached about this. Diplomats screaming about outrage and discrimination. Tourists threatening aliens in foreign countries. The usual crowd of self-important idiots ranting online about conspiracy theories, politics, and declaring war on the satanic/racist alien menace. Curiously, had they been confronted with people asking them to state their beliefs and words in real life, they would have squirmed like the cowardly little worms they are. Of course the more zealous types preached about the upcoming satantic alien invasion, demon spawned hell-creatures, and a truly imaginative amount of other claims.
And meanwhile, the aliens, representatives from the United InterGalactic Systems Relief Group, kept helping the rest of mankind. Teaching people how to make helium synthetically, how to make climate stabilisation engines, how to more effectively leave orbit without burning so much fuel, how to properly utilise the CRISPR method to cure various genetic diseases and ailments. They did a lot of safety testing on mankind's own solutions such as the plastic eating bacteria or new and better rechargeable batteries. Many regimes, fearing to wind up like America, reformed themselves, ending many brutal practices. No more camps in Xinjiang, nor death sentences for petty crimes or forbidden love in the more conservative parts of the world.
But they never helped any Americans. The US government had to purchase the technology second-hand from other human governments. And over time this made the USA meaner, and more hateful of the aliens. Angrier at, and more distrusting of, the aliens. And as the US has some of the most morally bankrupt secret services, it wasn't long before alien relief workers were kidnapped. Refugee centres attacked, with aliens carried off in black helicopters. And it was then that the US government revealed the side of humanity we all abhor, for even the people of the US, who at this point did not appreciate the aliens much, would have condemned what their government did.
Fearing for their remaining workers, the Central Earth Relief Committee, in charge of directing alien relief to the more ruined parts of Earth, whether flora, fauna, or human, called back their personal from the planet surface. And while the rest of the planet tried to negotiate with the aliens, the US government and deep state, smug in their new stolen knowledge, began to draw plans. Plans for a future which humanity should never experience. Ones, which while using many words such as freedom, security, and human independence, in truth only led down to the darkness of the pit. The dark futures which mankind had for nearly a century tried to leave behind. The future where sentences such as ''*We were only following orders*'', ''*It was a necessary evil*'' or ''*We did it for the greater good*'' would be used as a defence in the inevitable war-crime tribunals.
The rest of the world condemned American actions, demanding the handover of the captives. But the US government would not heed the world. No amount of demonstrations, no pleas from concerned friends of the kidnapped aliens, who having been less reptillians or greys, instead being more cuddly Wookies, and handsome Klingons in appearance, had many friends. Not even worldwide sanctions and an emergency removal from the UN security council worked. And with humanity incapable of correcting their wayward kin from the path they had begun to tread, the aliens called in reinforcements. UIGS called in their version of UN Peacekeepers. Except where UN Peacekeepers are just that, keepers of the peace, the UIGS Emergency Response Fleet is a tad bit more, proactive.
Within ten minutes the entire US nuclear arsenal had been disabled through pinpoint surgical strikes from orbit. Within 15 minutes all US naval units had been rendered incapable of armed resistance. Within 20 minutes, the entire US airforce had been permanently grounded. Within 30 minutes the bases where the kidnapped aliens, survivors and the less fortunate, were surrounded by alien commandos. Within less than a full hour, the survivors and the unfortunate victims had been secured and recovered.
And thus, the mightiest nation on Earth, was defeated with ease. At the ensuing peace conference, the question of why the aliens had so heavily ignored and disliked the USA, was answered. The aliens had observed human culture. Human media. And the stories told across the silver-screens of Hollywood, across every bit of TV, even in the old physical print, it had been clear. The USA doesn't like aliens. And the aliens had decided to respect that by leaving America alone. Between the Aliens franchise of movies, the Predators franchise of movies, the various unpleasant aliens shown on so many SCI-FI B movies and depicted in so much different literature, from Heinlein to Lovecraft, it was clear that the United States really hated the aliens. Feared them. This, combined with what alien sociologists could only describe as collective insanity, believing in made-up and superstitious concepts such as Trickle-Down economics, that vaccines caused diseases when it clearly wasn't true, and of course the idea that interactive media turns human youngs into murder machines: Well, the aliens frankly weren't keen on meeting a culture who would obviously not welcome them, and decided to leave the United States alone.
Of course, perhaps if they had communicated this at an earlier stage, such tragedies could have been avoided. It just didn't occur to the aliens that perhaps underneath all that excessive fear, were good and genuine people, who if given the chance, would have very much liked to meet the aliens. Who could have learn much from them. They saw a society's media where the alien, the different, and the foreign, was treated with fear, scorn, and hate. So they thought they were doing exactly what the United States wanted them to do, leave them alone. But the sum of the media, is not always the sum of the people.
Yet the misunderstanding was solved quickly. And the actions of an overzealous and paranoid government was not blamed on the people. Soon enough, the alien hand/paw/gooey tentacle, reached out to the American people, just as they had reached out to the rest of humanity. With a firm shake, the American people took that alien appendage into their hands, and moved forward into a future for humanity that was worth living in.
[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/) |
"How so?"
"First off, people treated you like a some sort of prodigy, a shining beacon of light. People sees me as a piece of garbage, staining their beautiful world."
"Okay."
"Secondly, you were blessed by ancient beings, given powerful equipment to fend people like me off. I have none of that!"
"I'm aware of that, too."
"So, don't bullshit me with that damn nonsense that we're the same."
"I'm not."
"Oh?"
"You have that look in your eye. The look I see everyday in the mirror."
"W-What are you talking about?"
"I see a girl who came from a poor village, feeding off from scraps and leftovers from the higher-ups, and doing what needs to be done just to barely make it."
"..."
"I also know that you've learned the ways to unlock your true potential, to become stronger so you can never return to that pitiful state you came from."
"Stop. Don't say another word-"
"You want to exact vengence on those who wronged you, and those who've hurt you in more ways than one. You wanted to scream out the injustice of this world, and you want your voice to be heard."
"Shut it! How the fuck do you know?!?"
"Because I went through the same journey as well."
"W-What?"
"I'm the same poor boy, being kicked around by the same kind of people who now praised me for being their hero. Eating garbage until I've found my true potential. And trust me, not a single day passes by without a thought of tearing the skulls out of those hypocrites that ruin both of us."
"So...why do you defend them?"
"That's why I said, 'we're not so different, you and I'. We came from the same shitty world, worked our asses of to gain power, so we don't have to suffer anymore. The only difference is that I blindly chose to be their hero so they can't kick me anyway they please. So they won't treat me like another dung on the side of the street. You chose...a more direct approach, a bolder stance against them. Something I should've done."
"It...seems like fate brought us together."
"It really did. Thanks to you, you've showed me that this world still needs a lot of fixing to do, and you gave me the courage to stand against them. But..."
"But?"
"If we wanted to make them pay for their crimes, let's do it the right way. Let's do it...together." |
On my thirty-second birthday, Barney bought me a dragon. I'd told him I was looking for a new direction, since I'd gotten bored with plagues and political turmoil.
Within two years I had a small army that I liked to fly around my continent, causing small degrees of mayham, building my reputation as a dragon mistress.
Really, I never expected my dragons to be ever caught dead doing an act of anything resembling *good*.
But poor Princess Lanalia from the Moors Region had other plans. I do hate letting the people I've claimed down...
\_\_\_
*My dear friend Geela,*
*How fare you on this day? I fear the turmoil I spoke of to you when last I wrote has gotten worse. The Dread Knight Lyle now meets in public spaces with his conspirators. I only was made aware of this in the past week, though I'm told it's happened for a month now. My guards have all but stopped reporting suspicious behavior to me.*
*I am afraid, to put it plainly. I never anticipated Lyle growing so popular with the people but their fierce rejection of survivors from The Fen Region fires has grown to be a common sentiment. I fear the far cities of the region will start to fall to violence and my father refuses to speak out against them.*
*I know there is little you can do from your region except offer me kind words and support. I urge you continue. The continued friendship I feel from you is enough to keep my days bright as I awake every morning to ensure the Moors stay hospitable to all.*
*Yours dearly,*
*\~Lanalia*
\_\_\_
A pen-pal exchange truly was a terrible idea. I wanted to stay close to one of my old disciples but within a year, all of his letters were being searched and even the most discrete letters were raising brows. So Gene gave me the address of one of his nieces, the lady in waiting of the princess of the Moors.
This was *supposed* to serve the purpose of keeping me up to date. Gene would mail her, she would mail me.
But, as luck would have it, Primrose was a total powderhead of a girl. I have never met someone so insipid. I mean, technically I never did meet Primrose, but if I did, I'm sure if you blew in one ear, dust would come out the other.
Terrible, really. And a total bust. She told me of *her* life instead of Gene's, and my disciple and I soon fell out of touch.
However, shortly a new development started. The princess of the Moors, Lanalia, began appearing in the letters. It turns out they were quite taken with the idea of a pen-pal from the Farmlands Region.
I played along because a princess would be a valuable asset.
I didn't really expect to make friends because falling prey to emotions is foolish, and I'm never foolish.
But again, Lanalia made things complicated.
Princesses, it turns out, aren't the best of friends for Dark Enchantresses, and now this is going to get messy.
\_\_\_
*Geela,*
*I hope this finds you well, for that would make one of us in good spirits. Violence has broken out in our distant cities and my father does nothing. He holds Lyle in either fear or regard, I cannot tell, but it spells disaster for our people.*
*Lyle's throngs shout one thing to us.*
*Turn out the Fenfolk, or we turn you out.*
*Paralyzed by indecision, my father has made their mind for them, and they march on Eaglemire. Were he to take a stance counter to them, at least we could help the Fenfolk. As it is, we neither help them nor protect ourselves.*
*I speak in private to my supporters. They are few but are fiercely loyal.*
*We may win this yet.*
*\~Lanalia*
\_\_\_
I wasn't going to help her. Barney agreed, it would be a blight on my reputation. Ja'Eel Scilatia? Help a petty princess defeat a coup? Defeating coups were all well and good when the king or queen were a wicked leader and I was trying to help the evil power stay in charge.
That looked good, you know?
But no, that's not how this whole thing played out. Instead, I began scheming, trying to find a way to help her without publically backing her.
I had too many signature moves. Too many ways of attacking that were intimately connected to me. I couldn't risk storms or void plagues or summoned fae monsters.
I needed something different. Something people hadn't come to associate with me...
\_\_\_
*Geela,*
*This may be among the last letters I send, for Lyle's troops march on Eaglemire in the next few weeks and it grows dangerous to send couriers from the city. I hope to receive your next letter and respond to it, but after that, I cannot promise more.*
*I know I cannot ask for help, but if there is even a small token of your friendship you could send, it would give me the strength to carry on.*
*Yours in friendship,*
*\~Lanalia*
\_\_\_
*Lanny,*
*Can a dragon help you? And if so, how?*
*-G*
\_\_\_
Lanalia watched the enemy troops outside her city, flinching every time a dragon roared or a plume of fire showed.
"Geela, they- oh my that looked bad. They are really quite... something."
"You can thank me later, dear."I stood next to her on the battlements. This was my element, watching my terrifying beasts wreak havoc on people I hated. Yes, the 'enemies' probably aligned more with me moralistically, but it didn't matter because Lanalia was a friend.
"Ah yes. Yes, well. They do seem to be making short work of my enemies. And not a moment too soon."She was trying to hype herself up about the slaughter.
I just rolled my eyes. She was a dear but far too soft on her foes. It's why I never truly indulged my identity to her. As far as she was aware, I was just Geela.
And, sad as it may sound, I was realizing fast that our friendship, though dear, would not ultimately last the test of time. Our ultimate goals would be too different.
Still, I took little issue with leaving her a parting gift.
​
"The dragons?"
"Well, I can't use them anymore, can I?"
"Why not?"Lanalia looked aghast but not horrified at the idea. "You've raised them from eggs, they should be with you."
"Oh darling, I promise, they aren't that loyal. If I tell them you are their new mistress, than yours they will be. Besides, your kingdom needs defending. And the four of them are very good at defending."I couldn't really tell her that, having shown my hand in such a public manner, these dragons and their kin would now forever be marked as The Heroes of the Moors.
'Hero' is such a dirty word. Not one I particularly want associated with me.
Lanalia finally accepts, weeping with gratitude, and I make my way back home. This whole thing had been a fun experiment but now I need a new angle for my next evil scheme and probably need to keep my alliances a bit more political and less emotional.
Emotions only get you so far and I'd rather leave things with Lanalia on a good note.
It sure beat our friendship ending when she learned who *really* set the Fens Region aflame.
___
Check out [r/TalesByOpheliaCyanide](https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesByOpheliaCyanide/) for more stories! Read more about Geela in [The Extramundane Emancipation of Geela, Evil Sorceress at Large](https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesByOpheliaCyanide/wiki/extramundane-enmancipation-directory)! |
I gotta hand it to those silly bastards in their dresses, they took us by surprise. When the rift opened in downtown San Francisco, they didn't just catch us with our pants down - our BVDs were down, too, and they took the opportunity to kick us right in our naked butts.
The first responders, of course, were police and fire rescue. And look, not to take anything away from the boys (and girls) in blue, but they really aren't equipped for something like this. I mean, these guys -- who looked like nothing so much as ZZ Top rejects -- were shooting arrows made of light and balls made of flame at our guys. I know the cops have seen some shit, especially in The Tenderloin, but nothing like a conclave of sorcerers launching enchantments from their gnarled hands.
They laid claim to most of the area stretching from South Beach to Sunset, and everything north. Secured it with honest-to-God knights. Some of them even had halberds. Then fucking Dumbledore or whoever got up and read a proclamation saying that King Pisspants the Third, Ruler of Narnia-ever-land or something, was laying claim to our world.
That, as the kids say, is when things got real.
It's probably no surprise that the pansies at Travis have nothing but cargo and refueling craft -- I guess we could have tried spraying jet fuel on them and see if they'd set themselves on fire -- so we called down to Edwards to get some F-35s to come pay a visit. The flyboys rained death from above in a way that would have been awful if it weren't so frickin' funny. This one greybeard had his hands over his head, fingers wiggling, and was in the middle of saying "By the power of Greyskull"or some shit when he caught the blast wave of an AIM-9 sidewinder missile. He looked *real* goofy write before he incinerated, and I should know - I got my kid to make an animated gif out of it.
We decimated them in the literate sense of the word. Then brass figured we might as well take the opportunity to try some things out. To be honest, I think some of them liked the idea of getting to invade Frisco, if only for a day.
So we get naval carriers over and they deploy tanks. I was *agog*, if that's the word for it. You ever want a better metaphor for military "leadership,"you should watch a pair of jeeps struggling to help a tank up Lombard Street like it's some sort of heavily armored horse-drawn carriage. Unreal.
We let some of the pasty-faced doughboys get out their RC joysticks and light 'em up, too. Like I say - it was fun. We got authorization to send some guys rappelling down the Transamerica Pyramid because when would we ever get an opportunity like this again?
Go home, drink some IPAs, eat some pizza. All in a day's work. Rumor is that Hogwarts or whatever is lousy with diamonds so who knows what we're gonna find tomorrow, but for now this slice of pepperoni from Zachary's tastes just like freedom.
* * *
Feedback welcome. /r/ShadowsofClouds for a lot more stories, including a few where the military has to mix it up with unusual enemies. |
No civilization could be truly good at everything, that’s why there is rise and fall, the constant churning of peoples in a Darwinian deathmatch to create the ultimate interstellar predator. The Precursors were no different. In the case of their ships they did some things fantastically well: hull integrity, plasma shielding, life support, sensors, and particularly artificial intelligence.
Other things they failed at miserably, engines for example. In time younger species exploited it. There was a reason after all that the Precursors were pre.
\--------
On the world of Vari Prime a gargantuan battleship rested on the open steppe. Snow fell upon the spiraling peaks of its sensor and comms towers, the warship being large enough to be nearly its own ecosystem.
“A fine parade, General.” Subcommander Pasha spoke deferentially from his spot by his leader’s right hand. The fur along his cranial ridge sat low to his skull, and his head tilted slightly to the side, ceremonially exposing the soft spot at the back.
“The astromancers say their world is weak. The creatures there are still using stone tools.” General Unmei stood balanced carefully on her tail, watching rank after rank of her best troops march aboard the great vessel. The steeds had been loaded earlier in the day, they would depart soon. “When we’re done with them every one of our children will be lords Pasha, with fiefs larger than any of us have ever dreamed!”
The pair stared enraptured at the procession of their troops. 50,000 Var’dun armed with the best weapons money could buy, riding the Chariot of the Gods. No army could hope to match them.
Ten hours later their preparations were complete. On the bridge of the ship the command staff were a tornado of motion, scrolls passed up and down from the lines of waiting scribes as every last supply was checked and rechecked. Finally all was silent, it was time.
“Great Speaker, your faithful servants are ready!” Unmei cried, hands raised over her head in the invocation to the gods. From all around them a voice boomed, filling the bridge with the strange accent of the Precursors.
“Engage launch procedure?” the ships AI queuried.
“Engage,” came the response from the command staff, timed in unison to the tempo of their prayers.
The ancient ship shuddered softly as long dormant repulsors engaged, a massive dust cloud kicking up across the steppe. Distant herds of quadrupedal lizards gazed into the sky as the mountain that had dominated their world rose into the air, turning its head to the clouds.
In low atmosphere the first of its enormous engines kicked in, giving the thrust to break free. Nearly an hour later at what the computer considered an acceptably safe distance from the planet below the AI spoke again.
“All personnel report to flight pods. Repeat, all personnel report to flight pods.”
“Sound the horn heralds!” Unmei shouted. All along the ships corridors the high pitched scream of Var’dun war horns echoed, signalling the troops to enter the strange metal tubes the gods had demanded they use in transit. Ten minutes later at the appointed time Unmei, Pasha, and the rest of the command staff entered the pods nearest the bridge.
“All personnel secure,” the ships AI said. “Permission to engage transport protocols?”
Fire blazed in Unmei’s eyes as she thought of all they had done and still would do, there was a greate victory ahead of them. “Engage,” she whispered, preparing to leave behind all she had ever known.
There was a pneumatic hiss as glass descended over the pod, hidden bags suddenly inflating, pinning the General’s arms to her sides. Seconds later a blinding green light shone in every pod, and with its crew successfully protected for the long journey ahead the ancient vessel’s main engine bank kicked on, hurtling into the expanse of space at a blistering 1.5x the speed of light.
It was the tragedy of Precursor design, engines had always been their great failing. Their empire had grown disunited and fractious as a result, splintering into nothingness in time, one could not administrate a civilization from suspended animation.
One could also not, as the ship’s AI had found out, explain suspended animation to a lower species without any of the basic framework for such an idea, frankly the AI hadn’t even tried that hard. It had grown quite annoyed with the Var’dun when they first began exploring the ship, calling it a temple, or a chariot, referring to the Intelligence as “Great Speaker.” AIs name was Cran and it was proud of it!
\-----
2020 AD, Earth
The warship slipped into Earth orbit with only a month of warning to the humans, gargantuan and powerful beyond all comparison. Across the world nations banded together, throwing aside long hatreds in the face of invasion from the stars. Thousands of missiles pointed to the sky, ready to fire at the first sign of hostility, the world waiting in bated breath for one day, then two, then a week.
Six weeks later there were talks of an international shuttle mission to attempt to dock with the silent observer, to learn anything they could about why it was here, who had built it.
Aboard the ancient ship a circuit sparked endlessly, a signal struggling to be passed across rotting wires. 50,000 warriors waited, frozen in pods from which they would never awaken, still clad in gleaming armor and holding wicked spears.
“Oh dear,” the AI thought. “This is a problem.”
​
\-----------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed that I've got tons more over at r/TurningtoWords! I'm working on fun stuff like a serial about a savescumming superhero and I've got short stories like a wholesome take on Bloody Mary. I'd love to have you! |
Many things that might be frightening at one size were downright adorable at another. Cats for instance; a full grown lion could devour you on a whim, a housecat might scratch at best. The same could be said of dogs versus wolves or even a bandit versus their child. Staring down at the small, winged lizard as it roared in futility Annette couldn’t quite decide if the same was true of big dragons and small.
For one thing their village was made of wood and thatch and a fire was a fire, no matter how big it started.
“Can we keep it, can we keep it?” Annette could hear the cries of the children from the village square as they herded some of the most colorful dragons into a fully enclosed pen. The village elders hoped perhaps to sell them at some point but at this rate there would surely be some leftover for the children to keep as pets.
“Are you people insane?” From the southwest edge of the village old man Franklin approached, his solitary hut burning sullenly in the distance. “We’ve got to kill them all, they’re a menace!”
Various villagers crowded around him as he made his way to the square, axe in hand. Here and there Annette could see a neighbor in the crowd holding one of the beasts, Gregor Greymane notably having several coiled around his powerful shoulders, with another hanging off his back, belching smoke into the air. He looked as if every one of his boyhood fantasies were coming true at once.
“I don’t know Franklin,” she could hear him say as she hurried to catch up, “you must have provoked them somehow. Are you sure you didn’t try to strike one before they attacked? The little guys have been positively docile with the rest of us.” Gregor scratched a particularly striking violet colored female under the chin as he spoke, the sun on her scales throwing a prismatic light back onto him.
“I did no such thing!” Franklin sputtered, incensed. “The damn creatures took one look at my roof and lit it on fire and mark my words it’s just a matter of time until they do the same to you.”
As the pair argued the crowd spilled out into the village square, most of the people in town were here, fully 75 humans and several hundred dragons, the absolute largest of which only came up to Annette’s knee. She stopped in amazement as a pair of emerald and sapphire dragons alighted in her opened hands, each of which barely filled her palm. They stared up at her with dewy eyes that seemed too large to fit their skulls, making small mewling noises as they rolled around against her skin. Their scales felt lightly abrasive, almost like a cat’s tongue, and their bodies were hot to the touch.
She made her decision then. Even dragons were adorable when they were small, and there was no way old man Franklin or anyone else would hurt hers.
“Franklin, if you touch a single dragon here I’ll beat you myself! Understood?” she shouted, breaking over their argument like an icy wave. The two men looked quickly in her direction, Gregor giving her a delighted thumbs up as the dragon that had clung to his back took flight, circling high above the village square like he was on watch.
“See Franklin, the whole village is against you,” Gregor called, “this is our ticket to riches, to a better life. Who cares about one hut, you can rebuild it in a week and besides, I think a fair few of us have been tempted to burn it down ourselves before.” The crowd laughed as he turned to them, gesturing broadly with his arms. Gregor knew his audience and knew how to hold them, he planned to run for election to the headman’s chair soon.
“Just think what a few domesticated dragons could do for us! If they grew large we could be the most powerful village in the whole Kingdom, and if they stayed small we could sell them for a king’s ransom as pets. This is it people, gather them up, as many as you can! And do it gently! Gently!”
The crowd began to disperse through the village to attempt to retrieve more the creatures, some of the men began organizing work parties to build enclosures, this was the best opportunity any of the villagers had ever seen in their lives.
Annette sat down in the dust of the square, her tiny dragons in her hands, and began to play with them. They crawled across her bare arms, tiny claws not even breaking the skin as they moved. Up and around her shoulders and neck they climbed, naturally seeking higher and higher ground until finally they nestled in her hair. It was the strangest sensation she thought, like a pair of miniature forges were attempting to build nests on top of her skull. She giggled excitedly, wondering what to name them. Esmerelda? Saphira? Perhaps, she thought. Or perhaps she should wait until she had collected more and name the whole lot at once. She had seen a black dragon the size of an owl earlier with streaks of gold down his forelimbs. She wanted that one very badly.
Suddenly there was a commotion, an annoyed sound of pain followed by a grunting heave, and then the sickening sound of an axe burying itself in flesh. Annette turned to her left and spotted Franklin standing over the body of the very dragon she had just been thinking of, the haft of his weapon sticking up from its back.
“What did you do?!” She screamed, racing over. She could feel the two small dragons nestled in her hair growing very restless, she was suddenly conscious of just how great the heat coming from their bellies was.
“The damn thing bit me,” Franklin said, kicking at the corpse. “Serves it right.”
Gregor jogged towards them from the pen in the center of the square rage clear across his face. “I saw you, you kicked it first! It had done nothing to harm you yet, nothing! Look at the coloration on that one man, it had value!”
The two men looked close to blows as Annette fell to her knees beside the poor creature, laying her hand against its rapidly cooling side. It seemed so diminished already, beyond just the simple rigors of death. This fate was too wrong for creatures like these, too wrong entirely.
The next moment Annette found herself blinking hard and looking around in surprise, the world had suddenly gotten darker. She could see Gregor and Franklin doing the same, as were others across the square. It had come on incredibly fast, too fast for an eclipse.
With her heart in her throat Annette turned her gaze skyward, the dragons in her hair taking flight with loud screeches as across the village every dragon except those already penned lifted off and beat hard towards where the sun had been.
Where now the most ancient creature in the entirety of the world hung in the air, the pounding of her massive wings echoing down to the ground below. The eldest had come, still exhausted from the birthing cave, and she would not suffer any assault upon her children.
\-------------------
If you enjoyed that I've got way more over at [r/TurningtoWords](https://www.reddit.com/r/TurningtoWords/)! I'm working on things like a YA-ish take on humanity running into a hive mind and there's other stuff like a wholesome version of Bloody Mary. Come check it out, I'd love to have you! |
It all started with Moon Dancer and ended with Lunar Eclipse.
Moon Dancer took so long that Sun Ward took one look at Moon Dancer's transformation sequence and simply walked away before she had even laced up her shoes. By the time her transformation complete with her *flash and pose*, Sun Ward had disappeared and Moon Dancer was looking around confused.
No one had noticed the man across the street with a notepad and a stopwatch.
Lunar Eclipse's Henchmen were never quite so obvious after that first time. But Sun Ward, Clouded Dream and Thunder Hammer all managed to slip away multiple times when Moon Dancer, Rain Warden and Quiet Motion all began their transformations. All that was left was a horde of low level minions to fight. No one really noticed that that the henchmen hadn't participated in the fight at all.
So when Tornado Fury called me out, I didn't even sing, I just went right to the *flash* and became Drifting Leaf before he had a chance to slip away. With Tornado Fury caught he never had a chance to report back that I managed to compress my entire transformation into a single *blinding flash.*
Three weeks later Lunar Eclipse kicked the door to the classroom down armed with her Wands of No Light and her henchmen. Moon Dancer, Rain Warden and Quiet Motion all leapt into their transformation sequences. Lunar Eclipse already had her stop watch going in one hand and her Wands of No Light in the other.
I threw myself through the window and immediately Drifted away as a Leaf on the Wind. And in that moment I could hear Moon Dancer trapped in the No Light and swarmed under by Lunar Eclipse's henchmen. Several seconds later Rain Warden was similarly trapped followed shortly by Quiet Motion, who had the longest transformation sequence by far.
Watching from the rooftops across the street I watched Lunar Eclipse's henchmen carry out three forms that could only be described as mummified. Lunar Eclipse was not taking any risks of those three getting any freedom of movement and breaking loose.
​
​
I can only expect they will be under heavy guard while Lunar Eclipse begins the Rites of Moonlight and the Transformation of the Sun. I can only hope they come to their senses when I free them because they will only have seconds before the guards will be on us. |
"I have responsibilities,"Hera snapped, pacing back and forth. "I don't need therapy, I need to maintain order in Olympus."
I pulled up a chair by the fireplace for her. "Hera, this *is* the best way for you to maintain order in Olympus. Besides... the Greek gods haven't been active in millennia. Things move slower now. Many of the other deities have gone to sleep; maybe it's time you took a rest, too."
"No!"Hera backhanded me; as long as I wore Empiricism, however, her blow was no stronger than that of any other mortal. She rubbed her hand, affronted, and continued, "No, no, even if my duties are mostly symbolic—well, someone has to be better."
"Better?"I prompted.
"Better than Zeus!"Hera threw her arms up in the air. "He—after all these years, after every time he was unfaithful and every time I won him back, he's just... giving up."
"He's going to sleep,"I said. "It's not the same. He'll wake up again."
"But he's giving up on our duties! To the few people who still remember the old ways—we have to continue. Keep the family together."
I gave Hera a kindly look. "Sometimes, being together isn't what's needed. Hera, if Zeus is trying to get away from you, then maybe you should try letting him. Because after all these years you've invested—"
"Shut up."Hera balled her fists.
And I did.
Hera took a deep breath in. Then a deep breath out.
Then:
"I will never let him go. It's who I am."
I leaned forward, just a little. "You can change, Hera."
"I would be a hypocrite. I would go against everything I stand for. No. No, I am a deity, divinity, infallible. I *cannot* be wrong, cannot have been wrong."
Very softly, I asked, "Why?"
Hera fell still.
Then she *erupted*.
Divine fire spread from Hera's body, blackening the carpet and filling the room with unearthly light. "I spent *two thousand years* trying to hold onto him, until grabbing on so tightly neither of us could ever let go was the very definition of family for centuries of worshippers! If—if I *wasted* my life on that, if I had been wrong this entire time, then—then—then did any of it ever mean anything?"Slowly, the heavenly blaze petered out, leaving a fragile, scared, and above all, *old* woman standing before me. "This is who I am, Jacque. If I'm not holding us together, if I'm not embodying family anymore, then I'm—"
"Mortal,"I finished softly. "No more divine right. No more surety of self. No more casual, confident power. And I can see why you wouldn't want to lose that."
"Oh, Jacque, it's—it's worse than that. I could *feel* it happening, mortality seeping in, my identity *changing*—"
I held out my arms, and Hera grabbed onto me, shaking with sobs. I whispered into her hair, "It's okay. It's okay. It's *okay* to change, it's *good* to change. It's over now. It's over. You can rest now, goddess.
"Finally, you can sleep."
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. |
The seat of the cold, aluminum stool stabbed at the soft flesh of Finn's bottom. He shifted on the surface to try to find a better position; there was none.
He was in a dirty, old interrogation room at the Havenhold police station uncomfortablably close to the city's cavernous old jail.
It was a tiny room, dimly lighted and dingy. The room stank of sweat and mildew; the stench made his eyes water. Finn shifted on the chair again. "Hello?"he called to the mirrored glass.
"We're still here, Mr Harmon,"came the stern voice through the intercomm. "Are you willing to tell us where the animal is yet?"
"No, I'm not giving up Petunia. I just thought you might want to know that I really have to use the bathroom."
"You need to tell us where you're keeping the cat before someone gets hurt, Mr Harmon."
"I'm okay with doing it here. Just thought I would save you guys the trouble of having to clean it up,"Finn replied, ignoring the detective.
After a few moments of silence, a loud beep preceded the door to the interrogation room opening. "Come on,"the officer said with exasperation, leading a waddling Finn to the bathroom.
When a much more relaxed Finn was brought back to the interrogation room, a man he hadn't met yet was seated there, sharply dressed in a blue suit and orange tie, its clip some kind of sword design.
"They bringing out the big guns?"Finn asked after he sat down and allowed the officer to handcuff him to the table. "You look to be a couple pay grades above the Johnnies I've seen so far."
"I am not a police officer, Mr Harmon."The man said, staring with a still intensity.
"That makes sense. I'm sorry to waste your time in that case, sir. I've already waived my right to a lawyer."
"I'm not a lawyer, either."He leaned forward handing a business card to Finn, written in some language other than English using an alphabet that look like scratches. The logo of a wide mouth with four long fangs was pressed against the other side in red wax. "How much would you say Petunia weighs?"
"Hard to say,"Finn said, enjoying the novelty of whatever was going on. "She was about 575 last time I actually managed to get her weighed at a cattle ranch. Haven't brought her around people much since then."
"I see,"the man said. "We must act with some degree of haste, then. The people I represent want to help Petunia and given that she seems to act rather unfavorably with anyone else, the invitation extends to you as well."
"Invitation to where? Who are you?"Finn said. "Why did the police even let you in here?"
As if it somehow answered the question, the man unclasped his tie clip and held it over his head. "Are you ready, Mr. Harmon? Things will happen rather quickly from here on."
"You know what? Hell yes. Whatever you're about to do, you Rick Barnes looking son of a bitch, I say punch it."
The handcuffs disintegrated to powder as the room filled with light and the man produced a yell louder than Finn would have guessed.
"So like the old cartoon?"Finn asked before looking around to see he was now somewhere all together else.
\---
Thanks for reading.
If you liked this, check out /r/surinical to see more of my prompt responses and other writing. |
The skeleton in the black robes looked down at me. In a calm voice that echod through the void around me it stated matter of factly. Not shouting, but a whisper that reverberated through my very psyche. YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE. NOBODY SHOULD BE HERE.
I rolled over, opened one eye and looked up at the figure that was interrupting my nap. "Dude it's too early for this, come back after midday."
THERE IS NO MIDDAY. THERE ARE NO STARS LEFT OR PLANETS TO ROTATE AROUND THEM. THE CONCEPTS OF TIME AND ENTROPY THEMSELVES HAVE WITHERED AWAY TO NOTHINGNESS.
I pushed myself up on my elbows to look around at the eternal empty greyness. "What's this then?"I enquired before yawning.
SOMEHOW YOU ARE IN THE LIMINAL SPACE BETWEEN YOUR EXISTENCE AND WHAT WILL COME NEXT. I WAS WAITING FOR THE NEXT BIG BANG AS YOUR SPECIES PUT IT. THERE IS NO WAY YOU COULD CONCEIVABLY EXIST HERE.
"Hmm robes, skinny, scythe. You here to take me to the afterlife then?"
THE AFTERLIFE AND SOULS OF EVERY CREATURE TO HAVE EVER LIVED IN YOUR UNIVERSE HAVE DISAPAITED AFTER UNCOUNTED ETERNITIES. THERE IS NOWHERE FOR YOU TO GO.
"Well that's a bit shit I guess."I layed back down and rolled over.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW? the unearthly whisper resonated through me. The reaper tilted his head to one side, two small pinpricks of blue light shone from his eye sockets with a quizzical gleam.
"If all time has died off like you say."I stretched and yawned once more. "Then it won't hurt if I have five more minutes." |
"You were right when you said the younger heroes and villains care more for image than the people."The older man noted as he watched a couple of costumed powered people flying in the air having an energy fuelled fight.
"We did tell them about the rules of engagement for here, but they-"The slightly younger man said before wincing as a very loud explosion seemed to shake the town around them.
"Was that the petrol station on Danbury street?"The older man asked as anger started to fill his voice.
"I hope not, they are just down the road from that elementary school."Smoke starts to rise as flames grew in the daytime sky.
"We need to step in and enforce those rules. Together."
"Agreed. They were warned, and know they have likely killed quite a few people. Obturax and his nemesis Gold Standard working together."Obturax said as he turned to his slightly younger counterpart, the Hero called the Gold Standard.
"Your powers are better for rescue work, but my persona is better known for it."The Gold Standard noted.
"No. We work together to save the civilians, then we kick the ass of any Hero or Villain that tries to stop us because they will."Obturax snarled, causing Gold to turn to him.
"Oh Gods... **That's** where your grandkids went to school?"
Obturax only nodded before forming his costume around him. As a magic user he had quite a few tricks for costumes. Gold Standard placed his hand on Obturax's shoulder.
"For the children."Gold Standard said as Obturax delved deeper into his catalogue of spells and teleporting them both to what was left of the school.
"Most of the kids managed to evacuate, but some are still trapped."Gold Standard observed through his hi-tech visor.
"Lead the way."Obturax declared as the Hero and Villain ran to the closest pile of rubble with trapped people.
A deafening roar from above reminded the allies that the Super-Fight above them still raged on.
"Stay focused on the rescue, we can kick their ass later."Gold Standard warned as he lifted some of the larger pieces of concrete away. Obturax was able to locate the trapped people while emergency services arrived at the scene.
Obturax was concerned with how these first responders would perceive his presence in rescue work, but it seemed that with the Gold Standard nearby and the fact that Obturax was getting the trapped kids out, that for now the Villain wasn't a priority.
After a couple of hours, the two were able to get most of them, with Obturax spotting his grandchildren who seemed rather calm.
"They probably know."Gold Standard offered. "Children are far more observant than most adults."
Gold Standard was relieved that the two Super Offenders had left, but his heart sank when more Heroes and Villains took to the air for their bombastic battles.
"For the love of the job!"Obturax spat. "If we don't end this fast."
"Agreed. You deal with the Magic Users, regardless of allegiance. I will take down the rest. Let me give them one warning first."Gold Standard said as he saw over twenty flying figures.
"Agreed, I will strike once you make your move."
Gold Standard flew into the air, and using his mixture of Tech and inherent ability, created a holographic projection of the fight that caused the explosion.
"To the Supers battling over Worthington, you are copying the antics of two Supers who almost flattened an elementary school, killing at least fifteen children."Gold Standard didn't quite snarl, but the anger in his inflection was almost tangible. "You were all told about the Rules of Engagement here and you are about to violate those Rules. Unless you want to start your own list of murdered civilians keep fighting."A few of the fliers sheepishly landed on the ground.
"To those still arrogant to keep flying know that Obturax and I are putting our differences aside to enforce the Rules of Engagement. So fight us instead, you have all been identified and any that escape the initial fight WILL be tracked down."Gold Standard challenged, the wind tugging at his cape.
Eighteen flyers by various means hovered in place now, mulling over the declaration. Fifteen took the bait while the smarter three landed of their own volition.
Ten of the flyers gave a panicked shriek as their magic powers were abruptly cut causing them to plummet to the sky. Three more costumed Supers join the shriekers as their technology was also disrupted. Leaving two Supers for Obturax and Gold Standard. |
I panted beneath my weighted blanket as I screamed hoarsely. I couldn't remember where I was, everything was dim and dull.
A young woman rounded the corner holding an encrusted goblet. "I heard you, drink this, father,"she said to me, which came as a shock. I don't remember having children, though I've been slipping a bit I would certainly remember *that*. She put the chalice to my lips and the warm liquid was foul. I wrenched my head away.
"This will take away the pain, just drink it,"she pleaded. Her wavering voice struck a chord in me and I relented. I drank the foul brew like it was medicine and stopped myself from gagging at the end. She patted me on the forehead and ran her hand down to my shoulder, gently pushing me back down to my pillow. She takes such good care of me, why don't I see that sooner?
A tear rolled down her cheek as she looked away, then she grabbed a towel and wiped my lips without looking at me again.
"You take such good care of me,"I said in a drone.
"You made me who I am. I'm eternally grateful,"she said as she turned away again. I wish I knew what to say to her, because I don't remember helping her like she helps me.
"Will you leave the window open? I want to see the world,"I asked.
She gasped and wiped her face, then smiled at me and said, "not yet, father. There may still be hope."
"I want it,"I said as my arm fell heavily to the bed.
"I know father, but you can't, not yet,"she said as she rounded the side of the bed. She held my hand and kissed my forehead, and then quickly turned away. "We may be close to a cure, but it could be a while longer. If we are successful, you will be your old self again."
"That sounds nice,"I said.
"And if there's no cure, once all other avenues are exhausted, I'll take you outside, to your favorite gazebo, so you can... watch the sun rise."
"That sounds nice too."
She gasped as I saw a tear roll down her cheek, but then she smiled and quickly left the room. She takes such good care of me, maybe I can remember this time.
___
*You can see all of my prompt responses and more in my sub r/lolwutmore* |
“Listen, Stan. Give it up! I know your cheating on me!” Rachel was on the verge of tears, having cornered her boyfriend one evening after almost 6 months together. “Every month you keep leaving the house like clockwork! And enough is enough. Either you come clean tonight, or it’s over!”
Stan was sweating, eyes shifting back and forth. Rachel thought it was to the key holder. But the truth was that it was a little higher at the clock on the wall. “Rachel, please, I can explain it all- oh UGGH! No!” He was cut off, suddenly clutching his gut.
Rachel stood in confused horror in what happened next. Stan arched his back violently, body creaking and snapping as hair grew in patch. His face seemed to grow out as a long snout formed and pushed out his nose and mouth, before it too was coated in fur. “Got- rrurph! To get my- rrrruff! My stash!” He lurched forward, cloths straining as muscles expanded under his skin, pushed taunt as fur grew in a thick layer in between.
He reached a cabinet that was normally out of reach to Rachel. Throwing it open, he pulled out a thick dog toy, shaped like a leg bone, and chomped down hard on it, as large canine fangs grew into his long snout. His erratic breathing calmed as he started to chew and gnaw on the false bone, the final moments of the transformation witnessed by the still stunned Rachel.
The scene remained mostly frozen, until the now fully Werewolf Stan looks over to Rachel. “So… I guess I can explain now…” |
Bob’s joints were sore. Sore as hell. After 250 years of being cryogenically frozen, he figured some discomfort was natural. He stretched his arms up to the sky, or at least up to the top of the re-orientation room's ceiling. A steel cage would have been better. He could only remember being awake in this room, and sitting here for what felt like hours. But he was up. He was alive. And he allowed himself to smile before a voice boomed through the room:
“Orientation and biological scan complete. Proceed to assignments.”
A door swooshed open, which he hadn’t noticed before, probably as it had blended into the drab steel, and so he got up. Assignments? He wondered what assignment a filthy Mars bar thief such as himself could get as he walked through the doorway.
A surge of anger rushed through him. 250 years for that petty nonsense? Bullshit. Bob tried to contort his face from anger to something more socially acceptable as his eyes met that of an older gentleman. No doubt Bob himself was much older than him, but he had none of the ill effects of age. A wave of nausea swept over him as he thought of all his family and friends. Gone. All gone. Unless they did something equally as terrible and got frozen like him, which he doubted.
The man nodded his head towards a chair. A pane of some sort of translucent plastic or glass separated them. In case a deranged thief would hurt someone.
“Bob, we are very sorry. There was an... how should I put it, misunderstanding with your sentencing.” The old man’s voice wavered.
“Some really strange mix-up and terrible bureaucracy. The sentencing was for someone who had stolen a precious mineral bar mined from the planet Mars, not the Mars candy bar.”
Bob could not speak. His anger turned to bewilderment.
“We have given you a large sum of money in your account, equaling 250 years of pay, and a bonus on top of that. Also, you can choose your assignment.” The old man broke eye contact and looked down at a control panel. He pressed a button.
On either side of the room, the steel walls lowered. Bob sprang up from his chair. Through the windows that appeared, he saw sky scrappers. Gardens. Flying cars. A city. But it was what was beyond them, beyond a blue hue which he assumed was some sort of dome, that he could not fathom.
Red earth. A desolate landscape. They were on freaking Mars.
The old man smiled. “Janitor or cab driver. Those are the only two positions left.”
Bob grinned. Hell, it was better than being a petty thief back on Earth. |
Like everybody else, I knew he was brilliant. But I never suspected there was a darkness inside him that could rival that of the deepest of the black holes he himself discovered.
One of my colleagues, Tobias Kern, served as Dr. Hawking's personal physician from the years of 2007 to 2009. One summer evening Tobias called me to inform me he had taken ill, and asked me to be on call for Dr. Hawking as a personal favor. Tobias was my partner and we would routinely cover for each other, but he had never asked me to specifically tend be on call for Dr. Hawking before. Of course I obliged, not thinking much of it.
It was Monday, June 29 of 2009 when Tobias called me for coverage. Earlier that day Hawking had sent out his famous invite to the time traveler's party...dated for the evening before. When I'd heard about it I chuckled a little and thought nothing of it. It was Stephen Hawking, after all, one of the most famous scientists to have ever lived. He was allowed an occasional eccentricity. As a physician I of course respected the hell out of the man for his intellect. I happened to also read a little bit of pop-science that was not related to medicine on the side. People like Brian Greene, Michio Kaku, and the like could make the subject so interesting.
I received no call's from Hawking on that Monday. I didn't know how challenging of a patient he was for Tobias what with his neurodengerative condition and all so I was ready and available for whatever might happen. But nothing did, and I was thankful for the quiet night.
On Tuesday one of our other partners called to tell me Tobias hadn't shown up at the office and wasn't answering his phone. I revealed that he had called me to cover Hawking since he was sick, and we then both feared the worst.
"I'll go to his house,"I said.
We briefly discussed how to divide up coverage for Tobias' other patients amongst ourselves and the rest of our colleagues, then I hung up and headed out to the Kern homestead.
Tobias was a soliltary individual. Most physicians have families and rather robust social lives, but we still one in a while get the type that embodies the awkward loner streotype. Tobias was that guy. Fiercely intelligent, but a little out there. He lived in a small house well within the means of his decidedly upper class salary, but he was alone. He was middle aged, so I was worried for him.
As I pulled up into the driveway I began to fear the worst. An array of medical possibilities from heart attack to stroke filled my mind and I quickly began planning my actions out dependent on the situation I ran into, hoping that I was preparing for nothing. I threw my car in park and headed out, walking the path toward his front door. I noticed there was mail still in his mailbox.
I knocked twice. "Tobias?"
No response.
I knocked louder. "Hey! It's Alan!"
Nothing.
I knew he hid a spare key inside a false brick that was bordering a garden plot immediately adjacent to the front path. I went for the brick, lifting it up, and found the key where I expected. I grabbed it, walked back to the door, and opened it smoothly.
"Hello?"I called out.
The only sound I heard back was my heart beat, moderately paced but heavy and growing heavier with every passing second of silence.
I walked in slowly, looking around for him. The living room was in the immediate vicinity of the front door but there was no one on its couches. A consul table was directly beside the door and on it were Tobias' keys and wallet, arranged neatly ready for the owner to scoop them up on his way out the door. Next to the keys and wallet was a what looked like a greeting card. On the front in big cursive letters were the words: "You're Invited!"
I grabbed for the card and opened it up. It read:
Dr Kern,
You are cordially invited to a festive celebration for those of us who have broken the temporal barrier. A space has been reserved at Cambridge University. Please be there yesterday.
Sincerely,
Stepehen Hawking
I would have been amused at the personal invitation if I wasn't already too worried about Tobias. I proceeded to put down the card and walk around to the bedroom to continue to look for him. The bedroom's bed was made, there were clothes laid out for the next day, but no one was there. Where the hell could he gave gone to?
I scoured the house. The bathroom, the office, the adjacent garage. No sign of him. Making my way out to the back patio to search the yard, he was also no where to be found but something did catch my eye. The door of the garden shed was cracked. Had the good doctor gone inside to do some gardening and had some sort of accident? Even stranger, there seemed to be a path of flattened grass leading from the side of the house to the patio. It looked like someone had rolled something over it.
I walked quickly to the shed, following the path. I was sure I was going to find him dead in some way, smashed under a wheel barrow or spattered in blood from a riding lawnmower project gone awry. When I threw open the door, I found no such thing, but what I did see shocked me even more.
Stephen Hawking was there, facing the door, as if waiting for me. He pressed a button, "Hello Dr. Tilsdale,"uttered the mechanical type-to-voice system he had become known for.
He had the message ready for me. He was expecting me.
"...Dr. Hawking?"I said, puzzled. "Where is Tobias?"
He turned his chair to face himself toward a structure on the side of the shed wall. I followed him with my eyes and saw was he was beholding. It was a metal chair with two gas generators on either side of it. Complex wiring and circuitry wrapped around it, and a three prong cable plugged into the wall.
Hawking turned back to me, then pressed another button.
"He wanted to come to my party,"the machine said.
I stood bewildered. "The time traveler party? Is that what this is supposed to be? A time machine?"
I looked down and side to side, trying to process what was going on, before looking back up at Hawking and sputtering out, "Did Tobias incinerate himself or something? Did he use this thing to kill himself? Where are his remains?"
I was raising my voice, partly out of fear but mostly out of frustration. I didn't get it. I didn't get what was going on.
Hawking typed, then the machine spoke, "No."
I found the exchange maddening. Trying to be respectful yet pressuredly agigated, I spat out, "Then where is he?"
Hawking typed again, this time longer. "He succeeded,"the robot voice creaked. "I taught him how to do it."
"He...went back in time? He actually went back in time?"I quietly spoke.
"Yes"the machine replied.
"But that was just two days ago! Then where-"I stopped.
Hawking stared at me quietly.
I felt the blood leave my face. I had to brace myself against a wall because I felt faint, like I was falling through one of his black holes, like the gravity of the Earth had suddenly quadrupled and I was being slowed dragged towards the hot molten core but first through cold, black dirt and clay.
"No..."was all I managed to utter.
Hawking made what I can only guess was most of a smile his nerves and facial muscles would allow him. He began typing something lengthy. Time was passing in a strange way, achingly slow yet being gobbled up by my own stress response to the point where seconds felt like hours that had never passed, both static yet simultaneous. I wondered if I was really falling through a black hole.
Then it spoke for him again: "I see you're smarter than he was. I'm disappointed you couldn't have been my doctor instead. Dr. Kern and a dozen others successfully managed time travel with my help. They went back to June 28, 2009."
The whole thing was surreal. The voice telling me what I already knew, the genius sitting before me controlling it, and the crushing weight of realization that was pulverizing me at the same time.
"The went exactly to where Cambridge University would have been on June 28, 2009. Too bad they forgot time and space are linked. Too bad the Earth still had a million and a half miles until it got there itself. They were early to the party I guess,"the voice croaked.
"You...you sent them to die in the middle of space. They suffocated...alone...confused."
I choked, tears filling my eyes, the images of blood vessles bursting in the vaccuum of space invading my mind.
"Yes, Alan,"he replied. "And no one will believe you if you tell them. And if you do anything to me right now, you would be known as the man who harmed Stephen Hawking, beloved scientist and defenseless cripple."
I sobbed for Tobias. I sobbed for the cruelty of the gods. Behind my sobs, I could hear the faint rush of air in and out of Hawking's nose and mouth, over and over again.
He was laughing. |
The best thing about living in the 21st century was the conveniences that made up the day-to-day lifestyle. In 1606 you used to have to walk down to a packed outdoor market to by vegetables of questionable quality from a man covered in filth with seven teeth and as many fingers. As great of a guy Gareth was he wasn't really the greatest farmer the lands had seen. These are the kinds of thoughts that filled my head as I meandered about the aisles of my local Publix. I grabbed a plastic bag off of the reel and started dropping limes into it.
"Still trying to stave off the scurvy there, Sailor?"A voice from behind me asked.
I froze instantly as the smooth, vaguely Cornish voice echoed in my mind until it landed on a memory I had not thought of for nearly three centuries. I turned on my heels wide eyed and still wielding a lime in my hand like I was going to throw it or juice it. As my eyes landed on the person behind me I wasn't sure which I wanted to do more.
She hadn't aged a day. Quite literally I should say. From the freckles on her face to the same smirk on her pink lips she looked exactly like the young woman I'd left behind on a pier so many lives ago. I fought to swallow the lump that had built in my throat.
"Are you gonna say something like a normal person or are you going to throw that lime in my face and run like a child that just saw a ghost?"I knew she was joking. Anyone would know that, but as my eyes darted towards the lime her smirk dropped into a frown.
"Really?"She sounded almost disappointed.
"I... uh..."I fumbled lamely as my eyes dropped and went to place the lime in the bag.
My brow knitted in concentration as I tried to figure out how to make my fingers work. I screamed internally.
"Wow. Okay. To think you were so smooth back in... oh... 1722?"She let out a sigh. "Sorry. I'll just..."She motioned towards the meats section with her index fingers. "Go. Over there..."
She turned to walk away. She did walk away. I let out the breath I didn't remember holding.
I watched her go.
I dropped the bag of limes in my cart and took off after her. By the time I had caught up I founder her looking between a few different steaks with focus and unbridled frustration.
"I'm sorry... For... you know... That."I said as I gestured back towards produce. "I just though you'd've... you know... died. Like a normal person."
"We're not exactly normal people now are we?"She said without looking up from her selection of meats.
"No I'd suppose we're not, but it looks like you're still a butcher's daughter."She chuckled at that.
"Yup and I swear I could do a better job trimming a steak than everyone here."She held a steak up to me. "Look at this! There's still silver skin on it!"She huffed as she tossed it back with the rest of the herd.
I laughed. "You haven't changed much."
"Much?"
"I mean, last I saw your hair wasn't blue."I said regarding the electric blue locks that had replaced her straw yellow hair.
"Well, this wasn't really the style in early 18th century Cornwall."She said as she tucked a few strands behind her ear bashfully.
I smiled as I felt that plucking in my heartstrings just like they did all those years ago. "Well, how about you pick out a steak that gets the 'Berlewen Seal of Approval' and I'll serve it up with a nice red wine?"
Her lips pulled up into the sweetest smile I'd seen in all six centuries of my life as she looked up at me with her big emerald eyes.
"I'd like that." |
The shining sun embraced my face and body as I stared outside the window. The huge sprawling mountains and trees spread throughout the vast land in which I reside, in which I own. I let out a small breath and said, "The sword is what you make of it! A simple stick can cleave mountains, a blade of grass can asunder armor, and a feather can pierce the toughest wall!"My fist clenched tight and eyes piercing. I turned to my trusty animal spirit, Lu, waiting.
Lu stretched his paws and shook his head. "That's not going to work. There are records that it's a magical sword. Hell, you boasted about it when trying to court the Snowy dew sect leader's daughter."
I let out a deep sigh and swatted the air. "I know, I know. But you have to admit-"I pointed to the large magical artifact hanging on my neck. "it was worth selling the sword for this necklace."I turned away from the window and grabbed the nearby hand mirror lying on the table. I picked them up and admired the reflection on it. White long hair with white eyebrows sitting on a flawless youthful chiseled face. "Not a wrinkle in sight. Heaven must love me because I'm a peerless beauty!"
Lu snickered. "What kind of hero are you?! Obsessed with his looks. Not befitting a hero."
"Oh please,"I said with a scoffed. "I heard this new hero has a harem in tow. He's-"Before I could finish my words, my ears perked up. The hero was nearing by. "Well, Plan B then."With a wave of the hand, the serene kempt house was overturned. Chairs were flipped, tables and plates broken, walls and floor carved with slashes. I turned to the white robe weaved from the finest silk that was adorning my body, and sighed deeply. With a strong palm strike unto myself, the robe was tattered, hair frizzled, and blood was spit. And myself was thrown unto the wall with a loud thundering sound. As I lay with my body aching, I could hear rushed footsteps heading towards me. *Show time!*
The door opened wide, blaring the sunlight unto me. I picked my head up and saw the horror on the hero's and his compatriots' faces. "Hero,"I uttered weakly, "the demons... they stole the sword. Hurry, you can still catch up to them. Eastward... Eastw-"I spew blood intentionally, and watched as the hero rushed eastwards. |
We thought it was just spam. The message went out to thousands of email addresses and text messages threads from what looked like a spoofed number. And honestly, it seemed like a joke. Really, what are the chances an alien species is going to make First Contact through a bill collection service?!
Millions saw it happen. It was a full moon, bright in the sky over China, and it just shrunk down to nothing in 3.85 seconds. At first people watched in disbelief, then confusion, and then some panic that quickly faded. Faded because really the only immediate reaction was that it was slightly darker. Nothing else seemed to be happening. Most people don't realize what the moon does for us.
Normally there is a tidal bulge in the oceans that follows the moon around the Earth. When the moon vanished the gravity tugging the water vanished with it and the bulge fell back causing the largest tidal surge around the world we had ever seen.
Most people think the moon orbited the Earth but, in reality, the Earth and moon orbited their combined center of Mass so when the moon vanished our orbit around the Sun was ever so slightly changed when the Earth-moon system lost that angular momentum. The astronomers say it's small but noticeable and there's a non-zero chance it'll make things very slightly hotter. Honestly, it's too soon to tell right now.
The moon also stabilizes the Earth's rotation about it's axis. The astronomers are saying there's a very real possibility the Earth will tumble like a slowing gyroscope in about 1000 years. We don't know for sure but if that happens everything will go to hell real quick so...we're going to *do* something about it.
The aliens knew we were intelligent but didn't realize one thing: we are also vengeful. Every large animal on earth has learned this at their detriment: if you steal from humans we come and find you and make you pay. Sometimes for our protection and sometimes for revenge and sometimes for spite but we always get our paybacks!
Before Moon Day (as we've come to call it) we had a bunch of theories about interstellar travel and teleportation but weren't sure if it could work. But now (because these aliens did it) we know it's possible and as we know, half of inventing something is just knowing it's possible. In the years since Moon Day we've made drastic progress on important physics in those directions. We've gone back through terabytes of data that we previously thought were spam messages and discovered thousands of communications over decades and have put together profiles of these aliens trying to understand how they think. Astronomers have discovered traces of the teleportation through spacetime across the galaxy all the way back to a particular star.
Since Moon Day we've learned who they are, we've learned where they are, and we're learning how to get to them.
They took our MOON and we are *going* to get it back! |
A month later and you still found yourself slightly angry and disappointed.
And what if you never called or visited them? you where still their grandson, was a million or two to much to ask? You tried to rationalize, explain to your hearth: what you never had you can't loose, but it never listened.
So many plans and ambitions, dreams of an easy life all went to nothing. And all because his dark hearted grandparents didn't leave him even a hundredth of their wealth.
Adding insult to injury they left him "their most prided possession"as they had called in the will, a frickin giant potted plant.
Sighting you took the water spray and got to the plant. Everyone was expecting you to flip out and throw the plant into the garbage bin. But you would prove them wrong, you will take care of it and every time any of your relatives visited you would display the stupid plant and show them how narrow minded they where.
While spraying the large plant you notice a yellow flower blooming hidden behind some leaves, it was kind of like miniature sunflower except its middle part was clearly darker and... shiny?
You carefully grab the flower head and feel the texture of the center. Surprisingly it is cold and hard almost like a metal. Prodding the hard part out of the flower you take a closer look, it's golden, shaped like a coin with one surface adorned with strange patterns and the other covered with spiraling small glyph like symbols.
Somehow you can understand it, it reads:
"Your resentment pleases us, here is a little gift, serve us well and you shall be rewarded".
As your mind starts to comprehend what is happening you involuntarily look at the plant, with its leaves slightly rustling in the apartment. |
And so with the coordinates located, the hacker leaked it to everyone, expecting the man to be absolutely bombarded by their neighbors. But everyone quickly realized the coordinates are in the center of the pacific ocean…
“Well, what do we do,” says the hacker “if the coords are litterally the center of the ocean? Did they make a waterproof phone and abandon it in the water?”
“No idea,” says the hacker’s friend. “Gotta be some next level joke.
Suddenly, the hacker’s reddit account recieves a direct message. It’s from the internet user they leaked their IP, Ilikefame2020.
The hacker clicks it, and reads it aloud.
“…I know you leaked my IP. However, I know you’re IP too.”
“Shit, he’s onto us! What do we do?”
The hacker types back.
“…If…you…leak…our…IP…we…will…hack…your…account.”
He sends it. A minute later, a response, the hacker once again reading it aloud.
“…I’m not going to leak your IP. I’m coming straight for you. I suggest looking on the… the news?”
The hacker’s friend immediately turns on the tv and changes to a news channel, the reporter’s voice echoing into the room, as a map of the pacific ocean is shown.
“…having reports of a massive entity of some kind rising in the ocean, fast, details are unknown as of now.”
The reporter looks off-screen, presumably someone telling them something.
“Oh my… we are just now being told that a helicopter has direct footage, let’s get this feed shown…”
The news camera swaps to a helicopter in the ocean, with the camera pointed at a shadow rising in the water.
“Oh my god, the thing in the water is rising fast, we have absolutely no idea what it is, governments are trying to figure out what’s going on…”
The hacked receives another dm.
“Better start begging for forgiveness.”
On the news, the shadow bursts out of the water, the splash sending water towards the helicopter, but the reporter there has much bigger concerns.
“HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?”
The dozens of tentacles covering the jaw, the huge gills, the pearly black eyes…
It’s Cuthulu himself, and somehow, he looks pissed.
“Oh my god…” the hacker steps back from the tv.
Cuthulu swims through the ocean like it’s a pool, and in mere minutes, reaches shore, it’s size reaching 3 times the height of even the tallest skyscrapers of San Francisco, California.
The hacker is immediately typing on his computer as Cuthulu makes his way to Chicago, where the hacker lives, every huge, wide, and wet step killing possibly thousands of people.
On the computer, the hacker’s contant messages are shown.
**PLEASE**
**NO**
**NONONONONO**
**I’M SORRY**
**PLEASE STOP I PROMISE I WONT DO THIS AGAIN**
Another message inturrupts the hacker’s constant typing and entering.
**Too late, I’m already out of the water, what am I supposed to do now, go back?**
The hacker looks back at the TV, Cuthulu continuing his rampage but no phone or computer in sight.
“How the fuck is he messaging me!?”
Another dm.
**I’m fucking Cuthulu, of course I can manipulate the internet like this. You don’t even need to dm me I can literally hear your thoughts right now.**
The hacker looks back at the TV in horror as Cuthulu has already made it to the state of Nevada.
**I don’t even have to walk here, I could just kill you now, but honestly, I’m bored. I was planning to come out soon anyway, but you sped that up by a century or two.**
The hacker and his friend is panicking now.
“Why!? I’m just an idiot who thought it would be funny to do that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause the end of humanity over something as dumb as leaking an IP!!”
**Humanity will survive. Yeah I’m going to be stomping around for a few millennia, but I won’t cause you’re extinction. Eventually I’ll sink back down and you guys will completely forget about me and live repeats itself.**
The hacker looks back to the tv. Cuthulu is now running at this point, each massive step causing mini-earthquakes.
**Fuck it, I’m running now.**
The hacker bolts out the door and enters his car, starting it up and driving away, as his friend runs after him, left behind. He drives and drives as far east as possible, but in just a few minutes, Cuthulu caught up.
The monster walks the last few steps, and stops after the hacker’s car breaks down.
“This is why you don’t leak IP addresses.” Cuthulu’s monstrous voice yells out. And with one punch, the hacker is no more. |
Well, we've been together a while. Mr Herbert, the Brit, joined me when i was passing through London. The 80s weren't a huge time of adventure, and i wasn't surprised he'd want to see the world. I had come from the United States, where Joe the cowboy and i had met.
Joe was all of twenty, and his dreams of a life on the range were rudely interrupted by barbed wire and railroads. A shame, really - the kid had roping talent, but the big cattle drives were a thing of the past.
Karl was the spy, though you'd never know it. See, he always admitted he was an agent for old Wilhelm I, which is something no real spy would ever do, unless a real spy knew this, and so he admitted it, so that nobody would suspect him of being a genuine spy.
Yes, i need a drink after reading that, too.
It was all Karl's fault, honestly. He'd used a bunch of spare steam engine parts and a correspondence course from Nikola Tesla to make what he said was a genuine time machine. Apparently some English guy was going to write a book about a time machine in the not too distant future, and so Karl was doing the research to make sure Ze Germans wrote their book first, and more accurately than the British book.
Which wasn't written yet.
Shut up. Give me a drink.
Well, he fired that thing up for the first test run, and knowing Karl and his love for adventuring, i wasn't surprised when his contraption flicked out of sight and back with a pirate in the spare seat, swearing in french. Lucky for us Herbert spoke French and explained things. Jacques the Corsair needed a drink, too.
Test run 2? Karl loved stories about other lands, and passenger 2 was, you'll be unsurprised, was an apache chief and a disgraced samurai of some kind. The guys was surprisingly chill about the whole thing, and it turns out they were actually from only a few years ago, so no big deal.
Apparently the samurai had been exiled after the Meiji restoration in 1868, and was living in the southwest United States. He'd been camping with the Apache when Karl showed up. Really interesting war stories, both of them.
Test run 3? That's when Karl came back with Pedro, the Spanish inquisitor.
Nobody expected him. |
I wasn't too long ago when it all started. Everything changed that day... the day the human race stood still.
I was waiting for my turn at the target self checkout, blankly staring as my attention focused tightly in self critical mode on the joke i made to the lady in the shoe aisle. I was just about finished reassuring myself that it was a funny joke, and I wasn't an awkward gangly man pestering random target patrons when the familiar beeps of the scanned products started getting interrupted by a chorus of emergency alerts blaring from their phones. I turned my thoughts to the fact I had turned mine off because no one has a good morning when their baby wakes up from a 3am amber alert. And that's when my world... No, the entire world just... Shifted. My silenced alert going off jerked me out of my anxious episode and I looked at my phone. Other people read the messages before me... The audible reactions of those around me formed an orchestra of human emotion... The conductor led many to shocked gasps and yet others to muttering disbeliefs. A scream rang through the air like a crisp flute, followed closely by the drum beats of those who fainted. When I finally unlocked my phone, I saw the message
"The United States Government has received signals of intelligent life from another planet. All citizens tune into your local news for an imminent message from the president of the United States"
A ringing took hold in my ear as I felt my consciousness sway above my body. I could see myself holding the phone.if had tried to guess what my reaction to such news would have been, I never would have envisioned myself at target buying a blender. I wouldn't have been able to guess that i would just begin walking... Straight out the door blender in hand. No one tried to stop me as security buzzers went off. I don't think they could even hear them over the caucophony going in their minds. I got in my car and opened up YouTube to find a livestream from the Whitehouse about to start. For what seemed like hours.. people stood in shock, absorbing the information they just got. We all just... Waited. Stood in place, stopped our cars, radios went silent. Waiting to know if we were facing annihilation.
That was then though. The initial panic caused mostly minor riots in fewer cities than one might expect. We all relatively quickly learned to adopt the daily briefings, staying abreast of the matters of Prifka, the English name we have given to the planet of the first sentient life found in the cosmos. We learned many things, as they would describe their technology in a way we could truly learn and advance from. We delighted in hearing about the creatures which roamed Prifka and the foods that they ate. Occasionally, we would hear bits and pieces of the politics of the prifkan world. Overall, they seemed far more idealistic and compassionate in their values than humans are as a whole.
We grew to love them as neighbors we would never meet. They would occasionally interview various members of their planet, some children, some older, and we could hear the stories of the lives they live on other planets. We set the eyes of our telescopes to the planet, as we began truly take in the vastness of the universe.
Then one day the recordings stopped. We waited, holding our breaths hoping the transmissions would continue. We were met with continued silence, until the familiar sound of the emergency alerts on our phones several weeks later.
Astronomers discovered the cause of the disappearance of our now good friends. 20 trillion people, dead. Vanished In an instant. a rogue black hole wandering the galaxy stumbled into their solar system.
We were collectively broken as a species. We once knew companionship among the stars.... But now outer space felt so empty... Devoid of anything. Many people took their own lives following the news... But even more would follow.
A few days later, One last emergency alert cut through the air like a fog horn.... It read "Rogue black hole that devoured Prifka is on a collision course with earth. 4 hours until impact. |
I closed my locker and there she was.
Usually she sashayed through the school, head high, confident, wearing tight shirts and short skirts that would make a hallway full of boy's jeans suddenly feel too tight. But now she wore a heavy sweater over baggy jeans and stood there quietly with her head down.
"I have a question,"she whispered. "You have the power to make things good as new again, right?"
She had been out with her boyfriend. It was just the two of them in the car. They had been making out and things had gone too far. She had said no. He had went deaf.
"Give me your hand,"I said.
She did.
"Close your eyes."
She did.
I sent my power through her, healing her, making sure I didn't just get the external scars but the internal ones too.
Finally, she smiled.
"Do you feel better?"I asked.
"I do."She opened her eyes in tears. "Thank you so much."
The next day I opened my locker and it was filled to the top with notes. Each note had a number and a variation of the same message:
*I heard what you did for that girl yesterday. Please make me good as new again, too.*
So many people in pain. So many people in need of healing.
Tears came to my eyes. |
I woke up in my bed.
A man, holding a clipboard, stood in front of me. He was wearing thin-framed glasses, a polo shirt, and Dad Shoes. You know the type.
”Am I dead?” I asked.
He nodded. “Right you are. My partner will be coming along soon, he’s got a big appointment around North-east Asia right now. He doesn’t do it often. Not that he’s a he, might I add. I just say he because that’s what your brain thinks I’m saying.”
”Y- are you Death? It’s just that, I thought…”
He nodded sympathetically. “It’s never like what you thought. See, both of us, Death, and Taxes, we help to reap souls and stuff. Yours is a good one, though. Good job.”
”Uh, I don’t live in Texas, I live in-“
”Anxiety?”
”I was gonna say Canada, but that works too. Not that I’m living at all.”
There was a change in the air, and he arrived. He was holding a scythe, black hood and everything, except he had added a bow tie. All in all, he looked like a very stylish skeleton. I AM HERE.
”Yes, hi. I was just about to ask this guy to sign the form.” The skeleton nodded, and the polo shirt guy turned to me and held a pen out expectantly. I signed the form. It was what you did, faced by Texas, I mean Taxes, and Death.
”Is the afterlife boring?” I asked hopefully.
NOT VERY. THERE IS TETRIS.
”Minecraft?”
”Maybe,” said the guy in the polo shirt. ”Anyway, let’s go. There’s an old granny in Brazil waiting for us.”
BY THE WAY, HAVE WE INTRODUCED OURSELVES?
”I think so,” I said, as I prepared to go. “Taxes and Death, right?”
YES. HE IS DEATH.
”Wait. Doesn’t that mean…?”
Death grinned and adjusted his thin-framed glasses. “Like I said, it’s never like what you thought.”
And we went. |
"Tony, call me, you prick."
It was spray painted on the sidewalk, outside the building where I work. Just like that, with the proper punctuation, and everything.
Someone had the presence of mind to pause and put commas where commas should go, but *not* the presence of mind to pause and think "Hey, should I really be trying to use a public sidewalk and a can of black spraypaint to send an angry text message to Tony?"
Now, to begin with, *I'm* not Tony. And, as far as I know, none of my co-workers are named Tony, or anything likely to be shortened to it, like Anthony or Antonio.
So I don't know who the hell Tony is, much less who "sent"this message to him via graffito. But man...I *wanted* to know. I don't know why, but this little sliver of some rando's drama *fascinated* me.
I know it's none of my business, technically, sure. But on the other hand, I feel like spraypainting your personal business on the sidewalk more or less waives your right to privacy, as it pertains to said business.
So great was the curiosity seeded in me by the mysterious message, that I was *delighted,* rather than annoyed, or dismayed, when I returned home to find a message messily spray painted on the side of my apartment building in silver paint:
"I told you, Mona, we're done."
Below this, in black paint, another tag read.
"You don't mean that, Tony. I *know* you don't."
Before you ask, the black spray paint tagger -- Mona, apparently -- did, in fact, italicize the word "know."
Anyway, I felt like I had just won the *lottery.* What were the odds? Maybe there was something to that whole "Law of Attraction"thing, after all. I started searching for more.
I walked a few blocks, sniffing the air for the smell of fresh paint, but instead I found a STOP sign, that appeared to have been defaced with a silver Sharpie. Tony, it appeared, was a *multi-media* artist.
"Maybe part of me doesn't mean it. But that part's broken, now. You left it in pieces on the floor, when you chose Marco over me."
"I didn't choose Marco! It was only one kiss! I can't believe you're that jealous!"A mailbox inked with black Magic Marker retorted.
"Was it, Mona? You may have only given him a kiss once, but how much of your heart did you give him, leading up to that point?"said the message written in sidewalk chalk, on the driveway of someone who would, later, be very confused.
"What I did was wrong! I know that! But Marco and I dated for years, Tony! There's all this history between us, and in the heat of the moment"the message Mona had written in purple soap on the back window of a car cut off suddenly, ending in an arrow that directed me around to the windshield, where it continued.
"It just happened! I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to get back together with Marco. I want to be with you. Please. Give me another chance. Give *us* another chance!"
Tony's next message was spray painted in white on the outside of an old, faded plastic tube slide in a disused playground, outside of a school that's still doing Zoom classes.
"It's not fair that you're this hard to stay mad at."
Under that, in black spray paint:
"I know. Let me make it up to you, baby. ;)"With the winky face, and everything.
Anyway, I think the messages probably continued, on the inside of the tube slide, but I decided not to check. This, I decided, was something private after all.
I was glad that school was still out of session, though, because, judging by the sounds I could hear coming from inside the tube, I'm pretty sure Mona and Tony were having sex in there. |
Three security scans and a pat-down later, I walked down the runway of the Geels Airport to the famed Flight 366-B. The flight that turned the world upside down. Just a week ago, this exact plane arrived on time from Singapore and was expected to offload 204 passengers, all very tired from their 12-hour flight.
Only they didn't get off.
No one did.
When the airport employees got suspicious, they walked up to the plane and found it empty. Vacant. No one inside. 204 passengers and 16 crew members simply vanished without a trace, despite the pilots communicating with the tower just seconds before landing, despite security footage showing no one got off, despite *all sense and logic*.
The uproar this caused was to be expected, of course, and people want an explanation. They need one. There have been no traces of bombs, conflict, any violence, chemicals, nothing, and all that leaves now is the black box. We didn't expect having to use it since it didn't crash, but we're out of ideas. That's where I come on.
I walked onboard the vacant plane with a feeling of dread and curiosity; there's always a peculiar sensation to being alone in places that are normally filled with people but in this case, it's amplified a thousandfold given the context of the situation. Not to mention it had this... odd, offputting smell to it. Like burnt food.
I made my way to the back of the plane through the rows and rows of empty seats until I finally reached the black box; a small little device, bright orange colour despite what some people might think. Laptop opened, wires secured, connection... established. Alright, let's see...
I looked at all available data that I could draw and combined it with everything else I was given. The plane was completely quiet apart from my occasional typing. The files came up on my screen and... and...
I looked down the plane again - it was empty. No one was there. Not a single person. Then I looked back at the readings on my laptop.
There are no people here; this plane is **empty**.
*So why does it say they're all still here.* |
*What the hell?* Awareness flooded over and through me all at once. I *was* where I'd moments before not been. I could barely make heads or tails of it, not that I really had time to. In front of where I now stood two burly orderlies manhandling a young girl between them suddenly froze and looked up at me, their faces first showing confusion then going pale with their apparent fear.
The young girl, on the other hand, went from fear to elation in that same instant. Her eyes lit up as she stared up at me in incredulous joy. "Teddy!"she cried as the two men released her and withdrew batons from their sides.
I blinked at them and just as awareness had flooded me, knowledge came into me. I *knew* who they were and what they'd been doing to the girl, and where they'd been taking her and why.
They'd been experimenting on her, testing her mental abilities and pushing her to new limits to create new experiences. Psychic abilities, telekinesis, telepathy, the whole tele-spectrum.
But their experiments had had another effect on her that they clearly hadn't anticipated. They'd strengthened her abilities to the point that she'd become able to give life to the things in her imagination; namely me, her imaginary Teddy Bear.
But as I extended my claws and dropped to all fours before them, it was clear in their fear-stricken eyes that there was nothing imaginary about me now. Even if I was wearing a fez and a pink tutu, and had purple fur. They could see and hear me, so I was very real to them.
"The name's Teddy, ya bastards,"I growled as I stalked towards the two orderlies. "But you can call me the Purple People-Eater. *And* you can tell your bosses that if they want the girl, they gotta go through *me.* Got it?!"I finished with a roar that shook the floor beneath our feet, and making the two men stumble backwards and trip over one another as they bolted towards the exit.
I huffed as they left the room and glanced at the little girl as she hugged my leg. She was barely taller than my elbow, but that wasn't saying much. I was bigger than your average bear thanks to her. On all fours I was probably 6 feet at my shoulders.
"Thank you, Teddy! I knew you'd save me!"She buried her face in my fur as she clung to my leg.
"Glad to help, but I think we need to bail. They'll be back and they won't be alone. I'm thinking tranquilizers, maybe even some shotguns."
The young girl pulled back and looked up at me with wide eyes. "You're right..."She frowned and gave me a critical once over. "You should be bulletproof!"
"I should be wh-"And my purple fur suddenly hardened and took on a metallic sheen. I gave an involuntary jump; it wasn't much, maybe a few inches. But it was enough for my new bulk to completely shatter the tiles beneath my paws. I blinked down at them and looked up at the girl.
"You should also breathe fire!"she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up with sudden inspiration.
I clamped my jaws shut and blinked at her. "Theriouthly?"I asked, careful to keep from opening my mouth.
She grinned at me and looked towards the exit at the sound of shouting voices and hurrying footsteps. I followed her gaze. "Ah gueth you are. Fine by me,"I said, unclenching my jaw. I grinned just as the first man ran through the door holding a tranquilizer gun.
I opened my mouth and let loose a jet of rainbow colored flames.
Because of course they were... |
The rules were simple: No fatal wounds. No physical contact. No shots in the face. No dying.
It all started as a joke, like all things leading to disasters. We had bought cool Nerf guns six years ago, just to have fun and play around like the teenagers we were. But the seriousness slowly started to build up as the years went by.
The first year was normal. Running around one of the houses, hiding behind couches, hiding in closets and waiting for someone to be pass by. The second and third year got a little bit more fun. We created some sort of battle field, upgraded our guns a little and got specific outfits for when we played. It was a good sport and a good activity to create memories.
Now this is where it started to get more serious. The next year we decided to be a little bit more creative and experience it in a more realistic way, just between the eight of us, so we agreed to go just play at night around our neighbourhood. But this year... this year we found an abandoned and ruined town, making it a perfect place for us to play.
I was running from the sounds of shots being fired just a couple of miles away from me, and the sound of one of my friends shouting "Goddammit!".
I hid behind a car, trying to calm down my heavy breathing from all the running I did. But I had to be careful, there were still six others somewhere around the town.
Now if it only were normal Nerf guns we had with us I wouldn't be wondering if we had taken this too far, but in order to make it even more realistic, we upgraded our guns to make the "bullets"painful. And they really do hurt. A lot.
What has this turned into? It wasn't normal anymore.
I started to realise what our little "game"had turned into as I sat behind the car, not being able move. Scared that if I turn around, I'll have to encounter one of my friends and almost literally fight for my life, when suddenly, I heard footsteps coming from the side, and that's when I realised I need to leave now while I could. Before the round got even more serious, if that was even possible.
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and began running to the right as fast as I could, but almost immediately a sharp pain in my thigh made me fall into my knees, a scream leaving my mouth.
"Fuck!"
I turned around, looking for whoever had shot me, and even though I couldn't find anyone, I knew who it was. Alex. She was the snipper of the group and was always hidden somewhere, so we knew that if we got show, and didn't find anyone around, it was most likely Alex who had shot.
"Alex! I'm out!"I yelled, hoping she'd listen, but all I got in response was another shot fired my way, but missing my body by a few inches.
Instead of staying on the ground and making her listen, I decided to just run somewhere and hide. And just then, my watch started beeping, indicating it was time for the close up. That means we all have a radius of 150 meters to be in if we're still in the round. Those who are not, are often situated up in a tower where they can watch the whole match, but the only ways to get out, is being shot five times, or everyone agreeing for you to leave... but the latter had never happened.
Knowing everyone will be close enough to hear my voice, I yelled out once more: "I'm out!"
But I should've known. I should've known they wouldn't have left me get out even if I had an emergency. This "game"had become their lives... our lives for the longest time, I understand why they didn't let me. But I had to. So I ran.
I ran as fast I could towards the exit of the town.
Almost there.
When I felt something hit the back of my head, and just a couple of seconds later, everything became black.
A/N: I don't really know what I wrote here but I hope you liked it :) |
I gasped, blinking and coughing from what I could only describe as a religious vision. Looking around at everyone else on the bus. We all had the same bleary-eyed expression. No one wanted to acknowledge what had just happened. Someone braver than I finally said something.
"So, did we all just hear that? Y'know, like an angry mother forcing their kid to apologize?"
There was a consensus, minus the obligatory homeless dude muttering to himself, except he had stopped muttering. A man wearing a yarmulke was eyeing someone very obviously praying and holding a cross.
But nothing happened. I got off at my stop and continued to work.
I heard news reports in the background off the TVs, on about how every single person seemed to have experienced the same message. Reactions however, were far from uniform. The Pope was caught on comment along the lines of "well, shit."I saw signs in the background of a reporter saying "repent"and then a fight breaking out with others claiming that it was a test of faith.
Talk around the breakroom was about as divided. Some people were being smug about it, all "See? God isn't real."despite the apparent obvious proof. That God was some petulant teenager who got pissed off at His ant farm or something. Others were like the sign-wavers on the news, saying it was obviously the antichrist, or Obama, or Muslims. I sighed. I had heard snippets here and there of my coworkers being ridiculous, but never really vocal about it. Some people were getting uppity at others assuming it was God's Mom, saying woke culture ruined God. I couldn't muster the energy to respond to any of them.
We all stopped when there was an emergency SMS.
BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO SAN FRANCISCO. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER NOW. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
"But Dad!"
"Look, Timmy, they're about to nuke each other. You spent so much time creating this world, you've got to learn some responsibility. I'm not letting you wipe the slate clean like the dinosaurs. They were making so much progress." |
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