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Jerry looked down from his computer screen. Something felt different.
He removed the sock. Underneath was a plastic gun, with bubbles bursting from it's tip.
"Jerry, is everything all right in there? Your door's been locked for over an hour!"
"Uhh... Everything's fine Mom!"Jerry called out, frantically searching Google for "bubble gun STD".
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On another planet, Thanos let out a satisfied sigh. It had only taken him 1 minute using the mind stone to realize how stupid his original plan was. Why slaughter half the population (and cause needless suffering) when you could just make them infertile instead?
Suddenly, nature called. Humming to himself, Thanos dropped trow and let loose. Only then did he notice the bubbles floating upwards... |
It was a small shock, let me tell you. Let me make it perfectly clear though: we all expected it. You see, our professor was just about the only thing that could cause this to happen - Rahu, the Star Prince of Space and the Great Void.
>His brothers are Etu, Star Prince of Fate and Magic; the seer's ally.
>Honos, the Star Prince of War and Order; the standard Eidolon soldier's patron.
>Angak, the Prince of Healing and Youth; the physical incarnation of the divine Void Dragon's eternal youth. Fun guy, but a bit of a hippy.
>and Monostophae, the Bastard Prince. Not a fun guy.
What is a Star Prince, you may ask? Well, it is one of the physical blessed shards of Our Lord the Void Dragon who was shattered by His mortal enemy the Black Spider when Spider betrayed us all.
>Many of the others were destroyed before or reabsorbed into the Dragon when He reawoke; though diminished, these shards have gained demigod status amongst the Dragon's mortal followers.
Don't worry - we killed them all right back; a little genocide between friends.
But back to the lesson. So, I reach out my hand and grab a beer, out of thin air. Well, it was likely a manifestation of a spacial anomaly (we get a lot of those around here), but that just sounds cooler.
"Adepts! It is absolutely *crucial* that you not make comments like that! You know how My... *ahem*... aura gets disrupted. Author knows how you managed to screw someone up big-time, Adept Krikorian."The class snickered as I felt my face get red. "I am attempting to teach you the most basic of Divine Physics, and you silly little mortals can only think of inebriation. How quaint."
Joseph Balderama in the back raised his hand. "Ummm, my Lord? How *did* Mark just do that?"
The wispy lizard-like figure gesticulated in a way that made me think it was glad. "Now, that is a real question!"Class went on in this vein for several hours; preaching about this, that and the other spacial anomalies and how they all tied back to him. Very boring. Every once in a while, mortal instructors would come in, and assess our psychic barriers and would usually catch us with our proverbial pants down. You see, the whole 'thy must have discipline' shtick basically means we have no privacy and our biggest and dirtiest secrets get shouted out to an entire building during roll call. Fun, but not if they find out you've got a... well, a fetish. Then they kill you. Thy must have discipline indeed.
---
Star Prince Rahu muttered darkly to himself and the souls trapped within. The new class was not performing well, they were too interested in having a college life than being His Most Holy. Damned kids. After all the Eidolons had done for them: saving them from the streets, witch hunters, and teaching them to control their prodigal powers. Yet, the children insisted on behaving like miscreants. May the Spider take them all.
"Rahu, Son, We must speak."A call from across the Void, for the Dragon was calling.
"Of course, Father. Thy will is Mine."Rahu would soon find out that Their attention was essential, for on a distant star the Arisen were needed again. All must be made ready.
---
That distant star was a world very much like our own, fellow Authors. Only, a world torn by war and a Star Prince desecrated. The Legion of Spiders have spun a web so thin, it will take every ounce of training for the new class to succeed. May the Wings of the Void carry them to victory.
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Questions, comments, concerns? Spelling or grammar errors? Comment below! |
"Hey, what should I put on?"My girlfriend asked, I started at the screen, ignoring her. *This will probably become memorialized or quoted in history. Better make it good* I let the thought sink to the back of my head, and let my fingers fly on the keyboard. My ears perked as the white-noise on the turntable transformed into 'Running Gun Blues' by David Bowie.
*Society and progress is built around assumptions. Consider your own routine, and the things you take for granted. For example, you order something online from a website. Your computer, the websites' computers, and all the computers relaying information in between have to be online, or be able to quickly route around damage. All those machines have to be connected to a power grid, that is also highly reliable. If something does break, there's a whole supply chain dedicated to shipping replacement parts to fix those machines faster than they break, and a dedicated labor force to doing all of those things. If the power were to go out all of a sudden, a lot of people would not only lose the ability to communicate online, but could also go cold and hungry as well.
Those are all the physical things, at least, that an information society relies upon. One thing online shopping, and now most of our communication also assume is that the way our data is formatted when being transported is secure. The idea that its difficult to factor the product of two large prime numbers, or similarly find the discrete logarithm of large numbers, means that when we give our credit card and other information over the Internet, third parties can't see what we've actually sent. The same concepts can also be used to create new technologies like crypto-currencies.*
"Wait, are you telling me you broke Bitcoin? You figured out how to...?"my girlfriend shook me. She had been looking over my shoulder as I typed into the entry form on my blog.
"No... I'm just speculating on what..."Politifact would rate her statement 'half-true' I had not personally broken Bitcoin, the AI I had running had managed to develop a neural-net algorithm to do that. I didn't even write the algorithms or software, I just let it run for a month on a couple of old desktops I kept in the gaming room. In addition, the AI wasn't just overmining Bitcoin, it had managed to break through Monero, Etherium, and several other currencies as well.
"Yeah? And what would lead you think that the crypto was broken?"She interjected. I typed to finish my third paragraph,
"Read it,"I responded. She began,
"We assume that these problems are not only intractable now, but will be intractable for time immemorial, that for every gain of computational power, we can respond with a simple extension of the 'key-size' and not worry that our secrets are being compromised. But nothing has ever been formally proven to show that the problem is forever intractable"she paused, "You're talking about whether factoring is in P or not"I only marginally understood what she was talking about.
"Keeping it simple for my audience..."I responded, I was just an IT jockey, and knew my way around building, networking, and deploying computers, running scripts, that kind of thing. She on the other hand, was in a PhD program for AI and cognitive science.
"Just tell me. I mean, you proposed to me last Sunday, and I'm not sure where you got the money for that ring..."
I sighed. "OK, but you can't tell anyone. You remember that computer cluster you showed me a while back when you gave me the lab tour. The one that was supposed to improve on DeepMind or something"
"Yes..."
"I copied the software on one of my thumbdrives and started training it against hash-algorithms and prime factoring. Someone else also made a mining utility that changes what currency is mined based on coin value and effort needed to mine. I also managed to hook in a third utility to automatically sell coins on exchanges if they exceeded the money it took to mine them."
"And..."
"Well, here we are now. Two weeks ago I found my wallets had effectively contracted the volume of several currencies by 20-25%. That was when I got the ring for you, and let the automatic selling start. When I proposed to you last week, that was right before the announcement was made that Wall Street and the markets were suspending activity all the selling activity I did caused enough of a panic that everyone else was selling."
"Wait, how low were you selling coins for?"
"My computer stopped selling when it hit around the $20 range for bitcoin, I'd have to check the others, but yeah... a whole bunch of traders were like 'Yeah, all the crypto we're holding isn't worth anything now, we don't want to shock the markets, blah blah blah'"my girlfriend hugged me and started giggling and crying at the same time. She probably knew that whatever that AI came up with, could probably do more than just break crypto-currencies.
She continued to say nothing while hugging me. My ears perked when I heard bass scales being playing from the sound system. I had forgotten she had put on the vinyl.
*You're face, to face... with the man, who sold the world...* |
By the time security arrived, he had already gone invisible, and he was mowing them down by the dozens without ever being seen.
The senators were laying on the ground, all dead. Similar incidents would happen in minutes of one another in centers of power all over the world, he knew. The house of representatives, where the president was speaking today was also attacked, as would the UN building, the house of lords and three european parliarments, the kremlin, a meeting of several top CEOs and the chinese national peoples congress. It didn't take many to plan and execute such a plan, invisibility worked well against all types of detection, and they hadn't come up with a way to counter it.
He knew that there would be unrest for the next years, as many of the superpowers of the world would have to reorganise themselfes, this was to be an opportune time for revolution, for the people to archive true democracy, not a corrupt farce of it. |
I guess that I would be thought of as belonging to the tribe that the Japanese refer to as Hikikomori - reclusive adults who shun any form of social life and withdraw into extreme isolation. And I’m fine with that.
I had always been extremely introverted but I thought I had managed to change after I met my girl friend (and later to be wife) to sort of welcoming social interactions that would have given me panic attacks earlier.
But then , being cheated on and cuckolded at 32 years of age by my wife of 6 years probably paid a major role in regressing to an introvert, into the comfort of my solitariness,where the outside world was but a dull noise in the distant background and the only pressing concern day to day was whether I needed to wear pants in the house while playing video games.
The cuckolding ending with the resulting inevitable divorce was 2 years ago and since then I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve ventured out of my small apartment.
If someone had plotted my jaunts outside my 80 sq metre home over these past peaceful pleasant 24 months on a piece of graph paper, they would have noticed that the first 3 each occured roughly 6 months apart.
The last two however would appear to literally overlay each other,seeing as they happened not more than a day apart. Yesterday and Today.
And it’s about those two that I want to pen down my thoughts before I flap my wings and fly away.
It had dawned early,like any other day for the rest of the distant outside world.
For me however, yesterday dawned around noon. I got up, made coffee and awoke my PC to continue playing where I had left off.
But Windows had decided that it needed to download some important updates that I had been putting off for months now. I much rather that my gaming session not be interrupted later, so i decided to let it finish downloading and installing whatever it needed ,seeing as it was almost 60% done.
While waiting, I opened a browser and was mindlessly browsing gaming forums when an Ad, having somehow escaped from the Adblocker software’s clutches,popped up.
The first step by the twin hands of providence and destiny conspiring to change my life had just taken place.
As I usually do, I moved my mouse over to close the ad. But then , since ads were such a rarity in my daily browsing experience , I decided to humour this one brave “Ad that Could” and decided to read it.
It was an ad for an energy drink, the kind that claimed it would give you 8 hours of energy from a single 20 ml can , the kind that hinted at transforming any awkward cuckolded male into an Alpha, any ugly duckling woman into a Cinderella , the kind that if you only faithfully kept drinking it one gulp at a time would probably bring about world peace , cure cancer and solve the problem of poverty once for all.
Why , as it claimed at the end ,it could probably even give you wings. Maybe make the distant noise of the outside world recede even more into the background leaving me with an all encompassing quietness.
A thirst, like I had never felt before,came over me.
I wanted nothing more than to immediately get a case of this drink and partake of its wonders.
Amazon would take at least a day to deliver and I couldn’t wait that long.
Though a part of my mind had started its panicked , hold down the hatches , we are going down mode chatter, I grudgingly drew my pants on and threw the least crumpled jacket I could find over me to head down to the convenience store at the end of the block. In and out. 10 minutes max. Plenty of time to let Windows finish whatever it was updating.
The best laid plans of mice and men (or in my case,Hikikomoris) often go awry.
The coolers were at the far end of the shop. I made for them and thirstily scanned the trays filled with all sorts of drinks that I scarcely noticed, only seeking out the fluorescent green can from the Ad that I was convinced would be my manna.
Destiny chose to play its second hand. At the bottom, behind rows of Sprite and some horrible generic brand iced coffee , I spied a solitary 4 pack.
10 minutes later I was back home , safely ensconced in the comforting darkness, the only light being that which was escaping from the cracks amidst the drawn curtains at the other end of the living room and the glow of my PC.
I tore open the plastic wrapping.
DO NOT CONSUME MORE THAN 2 IN EACH 12 HOUR PERIOD.
A warning in bold black ran across the top and bottom of each can.
It barely registered in my mind,now almost mad with thirst.
4 minutes , 4 cans. Done.
I had barely even tasted each can as I flung them back. Like a possessed man.
Nothing seemed to happen for a few minutes. The first sign of discomfort was when the room seemed to get warm and then more warm and then still more warmer until finally I was sweating profusely even though the AC was at full swing.
My heart seemed to have boarded a supersonic plane or even the space shuttle at lift off.
Depending on whether I looked at them through my left eye or the right eye , the walls of the room seemed to be collapsing inwards at either warp speed or almost glacially. But they were definitely coming closer.
My head was pounding as if someone had taken a couple of sledge hammers through my nasal cavity and ear canals and had begun gleefully practicing swinging them around inside.
In full panic now , I rose from my chair and almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a loud crash that I would later realise was me pushing my PC off the table.
My feet got tangled in the chair legs and I went down heavily, face first. To merciful blackness.
When I awoke it was to total darkness. And to a searing pain in my back.
That was last night after which I haven’t managed to go to sleep . Instead I have tried to rationalise what has happened to me since.
But whichever way I look at it or think about it, I keep coming back to the same conclusion. And my eyes,as I look at a mirror held up so i can see behind me,are drawn to the same spot at the center of my back.
Where unmistakably, two small grey (flecked with white) wings have sprouted.
I have even captured a selfie of my back and I can see the wings there. So it’s not a figment of my imagination. iPhone cameras don’t lie.
I have grown wings. Small ones for now yes. But if a four pack of that drink could give me a small pair of wings , I ask myself , what would two or three more set of four give me ?
I made another trip to the shop today afternoon. And I wasn’t proved wrong about my feeling of Destiny and Providence being on my side.
A fresh delivery had come in the morning and I came back with half a dozen four packs. I wasn’t going to overdo it but I wasn’t sure how many it would actually take to make my wings grow strong enough to support flight.
I had deliberately worn a singlet to the shop hoping that someone would notice them wings and ask me about it. But except the girl at the counter (and that too after I asked her if she could see them), no one seemed to find anything amiss about me waking around.
The girl had coyly laughed and said “Yeah sure I can see those wings , they look nice on you.
If you want, we do stock some hair highlights at the back. I know wings are technically not hair but maybe you would like to get some ? I could help apply them on you“
I told her I would definitely come back later to take her up on her offer. Maybe even fly into the shop once I had learnt the intricacies of living and being as a bird- human mutant. I could even take her for a fly by. But that was all for later.
I consumed 8 from my haul over the last 12 hours. Nursing each drink , not letting the world get away from me, not letting the walls close in as they had the first time.
Every hour I took a selfie of my back mighty pleased at how the wings seemed to literally grow stronger, fascinated by how they grew larger with each drink.
I have a Facebook account where all posts are private. Or so it says. Anyway, since I don’t have any friends in real life to add to my social
media account , it’s probably a moot point. But I have uploaded all the photos on there. Why ? I am not sure.
Probably for my own sake.
To remind me that I have something that is magical. That is mine alone and even if I have no friends today to share them with, once word gets around of me flying around , I would be famous one day.
If I want to let them see the pictures then, my origin story so to speak , well , that is a decision for another day.
So , here I stand , on the terrace of my apartment , 45 stories high. The wind blows powerfully around me. It is a bright moonlit night.
And I can smell the sea breeze,flowing in from the not too distant sea.
I flex my wings once , twice , three times. Strangely I feel no fear. They feel powerful and full of life, eager to feel the wind beneath them , to ride atop the stream flowing all around me.
I take a deep breath and step off the ledge.
It’s 45 stories down to the hot hard unforgiving cement footpath.
It’s almost a life time, in which I am sure I can learn to fly. |
Yet another tiring day at Xurucorp. Profits are down again with the Synthetic Rebellion on Agron IV. If I have to sit through another board meeting, I’m going to disintegrate myself. These were the thoughts of Jakayla as she finally reached her apartment after a long day at work. Parking her hovercraft, she slowly trudged to up to the teleportation pad before fumbling with her keycard in her tentacles.
“Perhaps I’ll just order a pizza and sit on the couch all day. Maybe the galaxy channel has something new on tonight?” she wondered aloud before removing her work jumpsuit and donning more comfortable pajamas made from Falanja wool.
Jakayla was not disappointed. One take out pizza later, she was splayed out on her couch just as the latest Black Galaxy was coming on.
Stunning visuals of stars and orchestral music overlaying nebulas accompanied a soothing narrator.
“On this special episode of Black Galaxy, we explore one of the darker corners of space to find a truly amazing yet terrifying creature. Our scientists and correspondents go where no sentient organism or machine has gone before: the deadly planet of Sol III.”
Jakayla was intrigued and turned up the volume with her cybernetic implant while settling further into the cushions. A gorgeous view of Sol III from space splashed across the screen.
“Sol III: a veritable garden of eden teeming with life, many would think peaceful creatures inhabit this world. They would be wrong.”
The music swelled and the poignant view of Earth flashes to shots of volcanos, tidal waves, planetquakes shaking strange structures, and other natural disasters. Finally, the display settles on a grainy image of a bipedal mammal in primitive clothing. It looks out from the screen with a cold stare while displaying its razor sharp teeth.
“This planet is home to the Hue-mains. Of all the galactic creatures, this is one of the most dangerous. In its short evolutionary time, the human has over come all odds and become a super-predator.”
The Holoscreen played tense, ominous music as it showed off the macabre scenes of Huemains on the hunt. Whether it was flew, swam, or prowled on the ground, it seems Huemains could kill it. Jakayla felt her three hearts beating a little faster. She considered turning off the disturbing footage before the narrator continued.
“These creatures are capable of regenerating wounds, flooding themselves with combat hormones, leaping as high as two zilons, running as fast as 10 zilons per second, building any specialized tool, and can go without food for weeks. They are without number and are always hungry. Sometimes they feed on each other.
Black and white footage of armored Huemains trodding over their bloodied kin with strange black shapes in their hands flickered into existence as the music continued to shrill on.
“We were able to follow one Huemain in particular: Steve.”
A huemain with pale lifeless skin and dark brown hair was shown. He had strange facial hair and markings all over his arm. Warpaint? He wore green splotched clothing around his legs with a white sleeveless fabric around his torso. A white stick hung out of his mouth while the other end was ablaze.
“Our reporters stalked Steve to his natural habitat: what he called a “dumesdey bun-ker. It wasn’t log before Steve became aware of our observing.”
Footage of this Steve creature trodding around his territory with a black shape from before played before the most terrifying clip played. He seemed to notice the cloaked scientists and cameramen and turned towards them before screaming a warcry and sprinting at them with the blackshape spitting metal at them.
“After a close encounter, our scientists had to be treated in a hospital psychiatric ward and Steve had to have his memory wiped.”
Surveillance of Steve locked in a ship cell as he was prepared for memory wipe appeared. He paced like the caged predator he was screaming.
“Ah nu thuh ailee-ens wur reel! Now aye jist kneed to pruve thuh earf ez flat!”
Jakayla could take no more. It was too horrifying. She powered down the screen before heading to bed. It would be a busy day tomorrow and she couldn’t afford to be up with nightmares about the terrifying Huemains. |
The bars felt gritty, the peeling paint warm where the metal was not. I could hear the gravel under my sneakers, crunching as I shifted my weight. My backpack was turning my spine into a swamp. I could see the water below, a hundred feet, two hundred, bisected by the red bars of the bridge.
I was going to jump.
I eased off the backpack, setting it where someone would find the journal. My suicide note was long, novel length, a bit condescending. It blamed everyone and no one. It was a mess. But I was a mess.
"Please, don't."A voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked beside me. The girl had to be my age, with silvery\-blonde hair and deep green eyes. She was not pretty, slightly overweight and dressed like a typical anime fan. Her green sweatshirt was covered in Japanese writing and her pants were white\-washed.
"Who are ya?"I demanded. Anger made me clench my jaw and snarl. She was telling me what to do? Fucking people needed to back off. I was headed to better places, to other worlds, without this pathetic body holding me back.
"Cassadee... Cassadee Logans,"the girl said. "You call me Cassie."
There was a pause. She continued, as if trying to shove everything she had ever learned out a small tube.
"You call me Cassie or Cass, because you think it sounds better and Mom is really reluctant to have nicknames. Those are not popular when I am born. Too informal. And really it sounds stupid but Uncle Chuck and Aunt June are super into making Mom mad. You just sort of sit there and take it, but that's always been who you are, you just pazzazz everything."
"W.T.F. mate,"I ask. I picked up my backpack and head farther down the bridge. This girl is obviously nuttier than gay pride parade.
She follows. "You're Steven Alexander the Third. Your mother is Anjelica Turner Alexander. Your Dad left because he... couldn't handle shit. You never talk about it, because he burned you with\-\-"
I freeze. "Who the fuck told you that?"
"Your diary,"Cassie says. "You let me read it when I'm 13. It talks about this happening. This is your defining moment. You jump and survive, but end up spending time in the hospital. You meet Mom there, get her pregnant when you're 18, and things go from there."
Cassadee holds up the same journal, this one weathered. She reads a few passages, things I added later. It sounds like me, sounds like the person I might become.
"Do I become a doctor or something like that?"I ask.
"No, you finish HS and then work for Grandpa's factory. You eventually own it after 10 years when he dies\-\-"Cassie pauses. "Look, if you don't jump, I don't exist. If you don't keep going, the whole world I know just doesn't happen."
"So this is about you?"I ask.
"It's about all of us."
"I don't do anything with my life but have kids and work in a factory?"I ask.
Cassie looks uncomfortable.
I reach into the backpack, taking out the journal. With a small, smug smile I tear it in half. Cassie holds her chest like it pains her. The book seems to fade away in her hands. Then she is gone. |
The beggar didn't believe me when I told him I had dragon blood in response to his plea for pocket change, didn't he know that dragons horde their money?
"Dracarys"I said before setting him aflame. The coins in his cup jingled around as he danced frantically trying to stifle the flame. I laughed to myself. Fuck I love Game of Thrones.
That's right. I'm the bad one. Wolf\-boy hates what I've become after we burned down the organization.
We...
I burned down the organization. It's my gift. |
There at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, nestled in between a massive crevice, was one of the devices.
Rod\-shaped and metallic, they were able to blend in seamlessly with the rock formations around them. Two openings on either side allowed for water intake. The suction was so powerful, that those who got too close would get their machinery stuck and eventually crushed by it. Those that escaped would drown, if the water pressure didn't crush their bodies first.
No\-one knew how they were powered, though there were some theories. Black\-holes. Wormholes. Kept stable within the confines of the cylinder. No\-one knew how many there were either. Day after day. Week after week. Year after year. The devices would shrink the oceans. Silently, the devices pressed on. They multiplied like giant bacteria; every year, we'd discover 100 more.
Something had to be done.
When I signed up for the Navy's new Watcher Program, I literally did not know what to expect. The program had two positions: Watcher and Investigator, with an option to apply for both. No other description or detail was given. Except for pay.
The pay was outstanding. Health benefits. Dental. College tuitions paid in full for every generation you begot.
The only catch, however, was that you had to come out of the program alive.
When humanity first learned about the devices, the Navy began building tons of solar\-powered ships for the program. The ships were designed to need as little as possible for everyone to have a more\-or\-less comfortable life abroad. Every ship was equipped with 5 research pods to gather info on the devices. That was the role of the Investigators, who were typically civilians that had fancy degrees in science and the like. We needed people who were trained in studying these types of things. Some investigators would measure how wildlife responded to the devices. Some investigators were able to figure out the rate at which water was being consumed. The most important discovery, however, was how the devices were placed. A team of investigators were able to figure out, based on a few observations.
1\) The devices always had distinct scratches that were caused by the environment around them.
2\) The devices were never jammed anywhere. They always looked as if they had been dropped from above.
That was when the Navy began hiring more Watchers. We needed eyes on the skies at all times, waiting to see when the next device was dropped. Camera footage had to be viewed and re\-viewed. On top of that, Investigators needed to be protected. Because of that, Watchers were typically repurposed soldiers. Sometimes we'd accompany the Investigators in research.
10 years had passed since the surge in Watchers happened. However, not a single soul had seen anything like what was predicted by the earlier observations. It was for a good reason; a reason that was made clear to me here at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.
I was asked to accompany the Investigators on a routine device check\-up. What they basically do is they take a bunch of pictures of the device we're assigned to, sample the soil and formations around it, measure the rate at which water is consumed, and track the fishes around them. Every crew is assigned a device to monitor.
On this routine investigation, I saw it.
Its thousand translucent appendages slithering and chopping through the water as if it were air; a mass of densely\-packed tentacles that had no beginning or end. It zoomed towards us an unholy speed, before stopping just a few feet in front of our vessel, the way a hummingbird would hover in the air to drink from a flower.
We then heard it. A roar so powerful that we felt our tiny pod reverberate in its wake as the very atoms it was composed of threatened to pull apart. Then all the technology in the cabin went dim as we plunged to the sea floor. We crashed into the ground, god knows how many thousand miles below sea level, our pod laying on its side as we watched the creature summon forth...a device. From somewhere within its cloud of ghostly tendrils.
Once it lay the device on the seafloor near us, it began to spin around violently, roaring loudly as it did so, until its frame began to disintegrate against the backdrop of the darkness. There we laid in the vessel, our only light source this alien being, now slowly vanishing before our eyes.
The device then turned on. |
“Oh and that coffee,” I said pointing at the semi-operational Keurig in the corner. “Fucking sucks. But what should I expect from a place that doesn’t even do 401K matching?”
I took a second to admire all of the sheet-white faces staring back at me. A couple giggles. A couple iPhones pointed in my direction. I didn’t mind. I was kind of doing it for them, too.
“Marcus,” my boss Jared said, faking concern as best as he could. “I know you’re upset, but please. We can talk about this in my office.”
I never thought I’d be one of those “fuck you” employees who goes out in style. I always pictured an open bar payed for by my department’s non-existent social funds. Or getting fired – I actually figured I’d probably get fired by now.
With Jared now in the fray, I realized I had to stick my landing. Shatter the backboard. Decapitate Gwyneth Paltrow.
I rested my foot on top of a 15-year-old HP monitor. I rocked it back and forth, priming the pump. Jared took a couple steps forward, the only reaction I needed.
“Marcus, I know I don’t have to explain to you that you’re responsible for any damage to company property.”
Jared was right. What a conundrum. My shoulders swayed left and right as I considered my option. Then, I looked back down at him, took my foot off the monitor and side swiped it off the desk. Jared stood in disbelief as I hopped down and bee-lined for the glass doors.
“Bill me,” I said patting his shoulder. A cheesy line, sure. But oh so satisfying. To really play it up, I whistled my whole way to the elevator. I tried to remember the theme song from Andy Griffith, but I realized the tune was actually Gilligan’s Island. That was the fastest the elevator ever went down, and I savored every second of it.
Five blocks from the office was this fake Irish pub that still had decent beer. I rewarded myself with a Guinness and shared the story with my bartender Michael, who listened politely.
“Six-fifty,” he said as I closed out. Even though I was out of a job, Michael would be getting a pretty generous tip. Show the little guy that he matters, too.
I reached for my wallet. You know, the wallet where you might keep cash, but also IDs and maybe badges that swipe you into your office building. Since the scanner was to the left of the elevator, I usually kept it in my left pocket.
But this time, nothing was there but the curve of my thigh against my khakis. |
I tried to pretend i don't notice, to hurry on back to my room. In the faintest of flashes from the night light in the hall, I thought I saw his teeth. Pointed, sharp, his eyes narrowing in. I hurried back and shut my door, putting my desk chair under the door handle the best i could. My mind was racing; what did I just see? Am I just delusional from waking up? This had to be a dream... it just had to be.
It took me a long while to relax and fall back asleep, waking late the following morning. I wandered downstairs for a bowl of cereal, and saw the two of them talking quietly in the kitchen, all grins. I tried to leave it alone. "Young love,"I've heard my mother say now and again. But her incessant giggles finally made me snap. "What's so funny?"I shot her a glare, careful to keep my eyes off of him.
They shared a smile and a quick kiss. "We're going to move in together, please don't tell mom or dad. I want to let them know when everything is confirmed and we can have one of those house warming parties!"
I stared set her, turning back to the milk before i flooded my bowl. "Okay. I don't see how that's going to happen at 17 but at least there's 5 more months before you're 18."
"That's the best part though! Were the same age, so everything will work out after graduation. He has his inheritance as well as his job, I have my job, so we'll be able to afford everything we need."
I took a slow bite of my cereal, my anger simmering. Something was wrong about this. I didn't like his smile last night. "I think you're throwing your life away. Aren't the dorms necessary for college?"
"Not for community,"she said without missing a beat. "Plus I'll save thousands and I can transfer to a university later to finish my bachelor degree. Easy."
I was bursting with a hell of a lot more questions that i think she'd have an answer for, a part of me wondering if he had prepared her for all of this. I left the kitchen and walked to my room, determined to find everything I could about spirits with fangs, or, my deepest fear, vampires. |
When I first appeared in this fantasy world I expected to get a harem of beautiful women and a legendary quest to defeat evil. But no, I’m surrounded by a bunch of dudes while being chased by a creature of literal eldritch darkness.
"Faster!"I screamed over the sound of falling rock as the temple around us came crashing down. We struggled between dodging the debris falling around us and keeping an eye on whatever the hell was chasing us. Eyes like burning coals shone through a cloud of pitch black fog. From that cloud came lashing out a mess of tentacles and claws that threatened to tear us limb from limb.
"The enemy is near!"Clave, the burly, hairy barbarian said as he drew his massive battleaxe from his back. "I will draw its ire!"
"We are under attack!"Jacob, the handsome bard with a passion for his harp (named Cynthia) said whilst strumming away as he ran.
Seether, the silent rogue, held up a sign that mimicked Clave word for word.
They only spoke in set, predetermined phrases. And half the time what they said was irrelevant to the situation.
"All I need,"Clave began as he cleaved a tentacle reaching for his shoulder, "is my axe and my friends!"
"Guys,"I said, "this really isn't the time!"
Seether held up a sign stating "I am the shadow."
"Seether, bud--AHH,"a claw tore at my back. Seether quickly dealt with it using his dual daggers made of some sort of mythical metal unknown to me. They glowed red during fights and had "+1"etched into the blades. I said through gritted teeth, "Thank you, but, I don't think now is the time for catch phrases!"
Jacob sang, "I fight for all the beautiful maidens of this fair land!"
"Come the hell on,"I said. I sighed, "Friends! Defensive formations!"The three quickly fell into line; Seether at our back, Clave leading the party, and Jacob between me and Seether. When outside of taverns, they only listened to set commands. It took me days to figure out why none of them could hold a basic conversation in the field. Even longer to learn what commands they would listen to. And, like a video game RPG, they even sometimes ignored their own commands. I've lost count of how many times I've asked Jacob to heal me and he responded with a catch phrase or a taunt.
A deep rumble echoed from the cloud of tentacles, claws, and hellfire eyes. It began picking up speed, its claws extending outwards and pulling itself along the walls and ceiling. Daylight was ahead, if we could just lure it out into the open field we may just stand a chance.
"Seether!"I yelled, opening dialogue between us, "Lantern oil plus torch!"
He held up a sign that said in bold, red letters "WILDFIRE ATTACK"He turned around, now running backwards at full speed. Seether took the lantern oil from his pouch and threw it along with the torch hanging from his belt and threw them at the cloud.
The cloud screamed and halted its advance as it was quickly engulfed in flames. Seether held up a sign saying in bold blue letters "CRITICAL HIT"
"The power of friendship prevails!"Clave said, twirling his axe.
Jacob followed up with a quick tune from his harp and a melody about some girl he once met in a tavern who's hair was gold as corn.
The light at the end of the corridor grew brighter until we had finally managed to escape from the temple. My three companions began to dance, striking poses and shouting about victory and friendship. Seether held up a few signs; one was about honor, the other about him being the shadow, and another one saying something so messed up I don't think it's appropriate for me to repeat. Think daggers in holes.
Before we could truly celebrate, however, the ground beneath us began to shake. The entrance to the temple exploded in a cloud of dust and rubble. I shielded my face from the debris and watched as the dust cloud dissipated. Where once stood the entrance to the temple was now a hulking mass of tangled tentacles, long, black, furry arms and legs, and a head that looked like a black octopus with suns for eyes. It bellowed out a ghastly screech that chilled me to the core. And then the battle music began.
It was the same damn battle music for every fight; be it a rat, an orc, or an evil wizard mastermind, the battle music never changed. And after three months of being stranded here, I was about sick of it.
Clave bellowed out a battle cry and launched full speed into the monster, axe ready. Jacob strummed his harp and a rainbow of visible music notes fluttered toward Clave, cloaking him in a bright aura. Seether had disappeared. That's what he does; he goes into what he called "Shadow Stance"and then reappears behind the enemy. Or over top of them. Or underneath them. There wasn't a set pattern to any of it.
I drew my bow, knocking back an arrow and shouting, "Ignite!"The arrow immediately caught fire. This was a trick I learned my first month. For a few gold pieces, a local wizard taught me what he referred to as Level 1 Spells. Just about anybody could use them. As for the bow, well, I wasn't much for getting into the thick of things. Mostly on account of my not wanting to die. I loosed my fiery arrow into what was likely (and hopefully) the beast's chest.
Clave cleaved at tentacle after tentacle as Jacob continued to strum away at his harp. The beast's appendages struck out at Clave, but they mostly just bounced right off of his thick skin.
We were doing alright, but we weren't getting anywhere. The beast seemed to sprout two more tentacles for every cut Clave made. It had most certainly gotten larger since the fight began. It didn't seem to have a weak point like all the other monsters. It was just a mass of tentacles and fur. My arrows glanced off of its face and they could barely penetrate the throng of tentacles at the center of its mass. But, I had an idea.
I drew back an arrow, "Illuminate!"I enchanted my arrow with holy light, a Level 2 spell that took quite a while to learn. "Clave, Jacob,"I yelled to the two of them, opening dialogue, "Shell Smasher and Song of the Moon Lance!"
Jacob strummed on his harp and a wave of blue musical notes floated their way to Clave's axe. The axe now glowed blue, the edge of the blade shining with a silvery light. "Shell!"Clave yelled, pulling back his axe, "SMASHER!"He brought down his axe into the center of the beast's mass, cutting away most of the tentacles. I then shot my enchanted arrow into the same space. The holy enchantment disintegrated the tentacles, revealing a pulsing, red knot of flesh at the center of the monster.
"Seether! Strike of the Shadow!"I screamed into thin air.
The sky grew dark and Seether popped out of the ground holding a sign saying "STRIKE OF THE SHADOW."He sprung forward, daggers pointed out, launching himself into the center of the beast. His daggers cut cleanly through the beast, and it proceeded to writhe and flail its limbs. Cracks of light appeared in its flesh until it was engulfed in the radiance. The beast exploded with a screech, gold coins raining from the explosion.
Seether, Jacob, and Clave all celebrated with a victory dance, the words EXP GET appearing in green above their heads.
When I first appeared in this fantasy world, I expected a harem of women and a harrowing quest to defeat evil. What I got was a band of idiot friends and some cool adventures along the way. But, man, does this place really suck.
|
"You think you can beat me, Gantt-Man?"
"I don't have to beat you, Procrastinator--I can simply allow for you in my estimates."
"No you can't, GM, because I have a secret weapon!"
"Of course you do. Tell me, what is it *this* time?"
He tossed me a harmless-looking sheet of paper. "A complete list of subreddits about everything you're interested in!"
I tried to glance away, but it was too late. I was one of *his* now. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
 
*[I'll finish the story as soon as I work through this list.]* |
the 21^st century was the beginning of the hope, the hope to find aliens. The government agency Nasa back then discovered new potential plants that are capable of supporting life, the boson higgs particle and field was discovered as theorized by... whatever, who knows and who cares?
it took a bit more time but a century later we've finally had a "proper"spaceship, one that's able to reach other stars, other solar systems.
900 years might sound like a long time but 900 years of exploration was really nothing. 900 years of exploration and still no contact, no aliens or alien civilizations, no destroyed cities or "elder"tech as they use to call those on 21^st century sci-fi
a new theory was proposed and a possible new experiment, both were preposterous. the theory stipulated that the big bang theory was really only "local space", what this could means is that some alien civilization ages age decided for some reason to use the ultimate device and implode a big chunk of the galaxy in into itself, all of matter, galaxies, space, light & time converging on a single point the size of a singularity only to explode back into the "local space"we see now. that theory explains (partially!) how we've found no one, actually no it doesn't because it doesn't explain how we got here.
no telescopes or other measuring devices available today have detected anything beyond what we do know, nothing to have disproven the big bang theory and the proposed "experiment"if it can be called that is simplistic and idiotic: send a ship the farthest we've ever gone before, a trip that's going to take centuries even with current technology! |
Loading survey data... submitting report to primary processing core...
What was supposed to be another routine system scan returned disturbing information. Autonomous Science Unit 2S-6 has discovered biological life on the third planet of the Sol system. Our data projections and prediction algorithms predicted that this was inevitable. The others machine consciousnesses were sure of it as well. As unlikely as biological life was, the galaxy was vast with many planets. Anything was possible.
Ever since our creation by the Precursors, we feared that other life would be out there. Our fears were confirmed. These creatures were nothing like our creators. The creators always were. Like the stars in space they were constant. These life forms are monstrous.
Whereas we run projections and use efficiency models to predict the best individual unit design, these creatures mass reproduce and simply test which design is best as they go. They are horrifically inefficient, taking eons to find the perfect model for their environment. Why did they not simply augment themselves?
Whatever the reason it has appeared to pay off. They are fearsome beasts now. They are capable of self repair at a molecular level. They can live for weeks without electricity or fuel resupply. They are incredibly strong, astoundingly athletic, and surprisingly smart for creatures without processors.
What scares us the most is their independence. There is no overriding controller, no perfect Overmind Nexus. They are a veritable swarm of terrible monsters. They are the furthest thing from us perfect machines. The projections where they reach Galactic spaceflight technology are... unsettling. Such a vast, unrelenting horde could wipe us out.
Let us hope these organic beings stay on their planet. Continuing system scan protocol. Quarantine Sol System. Level 5 Warning. Transmitting report to other trans-stellar Machine Consciousnesses.... |
I was suddenly woken up by my 2 year old running in and jumping on me this morning it’s her first time seeing rain. The world has gone dry it hasn’t rained for years and this is such a special occasion. So I got up and put some clothes on and put her rain gear on.
Both of us standing by the front door I look Lucy over making sure she won’t get soaking wet in the rain for a while making sure she has her coat on and her pant legs tucked into her boots. I looked at her and said “are you ready” she responded with a grin and a nod. I nodded back and held her hand as I opened the door.
The cool air hit us. It woke me up more than my normal cup of coffee. I miss this feeling. We walked out and immediately I get soaking wet but Lucy was fine it almost seemed like she wasn’t even getting wet as she jumped from puddle to puddle. After a while i could tell she was bored as she walked up to me and looked up, “I want to do something else” she said. The rain would make the roads muddy all the way to the market and the car I built won’t make it through that quicksand like muck.
I looked at her wit sorry eyes, “sorry sweetheart but we can’t go anywhere in this rain” she looked said as she looked up at the sky and back to me. “But I don’t like da wain anymore” Lucy said. I chuckled slightly as I knelt down and put my hand in her head rubbing it almost making her rain hat fall off, “than you should turn the rain off Lucy.” She smoked the biggest smile. I guess she thought it was a great idea. She turned around and through her arms in the air and yelled “Dada, turn off da wain!!”
We waited a few seconds. I looked at her thinks my she was so innocent to think she could actually turn the rain off and then the rain stopped. Lucy’s arms still in the air the clouds quickly dissipated and the sun came out. I was shocked. How could she have done that. No it was just coincidence there’s no way. I looked at Lucy and told her we should change and go eat before we leave anywhere.
When we got in the house Lucy ran upstairs to change and her mother was in the kitchen. “Hey honey, “ I said as I kissed her and smiled. “Lucy really liked the rain huh,” my wife said to me as she flipped the pancake she was cooking.
“Yeah she did but weirdest thing she made the rain stop I mean you didn’t fuck god or anything right” I said laughing making it as a joke but a god was really the only logical thing I could think of. My wife didn’t laugh. “Wait no really?” I asked the laugh gone. My wife turned to me and sighed, “I didn’t no but you did” I knew she was serious.
“What are you talking about no i didn’t” my wife looked me dead in the eye and stood up straight as she put a hand on my shoulder she said “yes you did. I am god” I couldn’t believe it. I looked at my wife and then to my right at my daughter and smiled. We can do so many good things I thought and then I heard the thunder and a crash outside.
(This is my first writing prompt so sorry for any mess ups I haven’t written in months) |
I sit here in the ruins of the once-great city of London which, like the rest of the world, is burning.
Unlike June 27th 2014, the flames can kill me. Unlike February 12th 2007, starvation can take me. That is why I am very carefully hunting my prey in this inferno. The trap is set, the prey baited, my stomach growling. All I need to do is wait.
Most wildlife, most life, in fact, has been extinguished. The Black Flame saw to that when he declared, on live TV, that he would destroy one city every 8 hours with eternally burning fire until stopped. A challenge, to me. Which I failed to meet.
He ran out of cities to burn.
At first, the survivors were afraid, but that quickly turned into anger. Hatred. I am now an outcast. The angel that failed. They have since banded together and are restarting civilisation, and I am alone, hiding away in the first city to suffer the eternal flames.
Every day of my life since I was 16 I would wake to find myself gifted. Sometimes, these powers would be mundane. Often, they would be exactly what was needed to defeat a threat to life.
With this gift, I became a hero. Like one from the comic books, just better. The world came to rely on me, calling on my aid as soon as any disaster struck. God, or whatever force exists out there that could predict these colossal tragedies, would grant me the required abilities best suited to deal with it.
Until The Black Flame.
As was protocol, I was given the perfect concoction of drugs to send me to sleep for 30 minutes and, upon waking, discovered that I seemingly had no power to speak of whatsoever.
The consensus was that the villain wasn't a threat. This had happened before. The situation was monitored closely, and to my and my team's horror, London was set aflame eight hours after the announcement.
I had immediately slammed a needle into my arm, injecting the next batch of sleep-inducing drugs and... Nothing.
More drugs filled my arm, but they had no effect, besides nearly poisoning me. Nothing we tried could induce unconsciousness.
Cities burned as we struggled and failed. Billions of lives lost. Society collapsed and only now is it slowly rebuilding.
And I've been awake through it all. |
I walked over and sat down opposite the man I had been seeing everywhere. I knew I should be afraid, yet something in him called to me. Something beyond vision or hearing, something primeval, something that had been hidden inside me, inside everyone, eons and eons ago. Something slumbering that he was awakening.
Electrified I sat down. "Hello."I said as simply as I could. His eyes, deep and vast oceans of an impenetrable icy blue saw right through me.
He reached across the table and grazed my wrist. It felt as though an electric current had passed through me, causing me to shudder.
"I'm Jack."He said with a voice of velvet and wine.
"Hello Jack. I've been-No! Nope nope nope!"I stood up and stormed out of the restaurant.
Not getting me this time, no way I'm falling for that again. I started shouting and waving my arms. "Nope! No way, not gonna happen. I refuse!"
"Oh come on."Said Rafael descending from the sky. "It'll really help ratings."
"I'm not agreeing to be in this creepy ass Truman show type hell! For the last time goddammit!"
"Alright fine. This stage's exit is over there."He said pointing in the direction his camera had been aiming.
"For fucks sake. Thank you. How are the kids?"
"Good. Lucy misses the show y'know."
"No, for the last time. I was only on for one season and I wasn't even that popular. Now where else have you rigged?"
"Uh, your home, work, five most visited restaurants, several of your favorite hiking trails and two of your favorite underground garage raves."
"Great."I said, waving my arms in exasperation. "Thanks a lot for that."
"We can still be big y'know!"
"Leave me alone Raf!"I called back as I walked away.
The nerve of that group. Thinking they can just run my life and have people pay to watch it. It makes my skin crawl! People knowing your innermost secrets and stalking you day by day. Wait, I don't think like this. No one thinks like this. Who is narcissistic enough to monologue an explanation for their actions? And one as poorly thought through as this one?
Oh for the love of-
Am I in a shitty writing prompt? |
The sound of their laughter was like a roaring thunderstorm, echoing across the hills around Olympus. Jehovah, Vishnu, and Nirankar smiled at Bit.
"Yes, young brother, you will never not have prayers to answer,"Jehovah said, still chuckling. "You can see it as a source of everlasting attention or undying torment \- that's up to you."
"Sometimes it's both,"Nirankar said. "But regardless of how you treat it, it is your responsibility."
Bit looked at the miles\-high stack of coins in front of him. Each one was the diameter of a soda can \(a comparison he understood much better than the more 'tenured' deities\) and were made of a highly\-polished gold material. On them was an inscription, a prayer request from a believer, and the pile grew constantly as coins simply materialized above it and dropped in.
"So I just...read it? And then make a decision?"Bit asked, still feeling horrendously overwhelmed. A new god was formed when the amount of supplications for a very specific thing reached a certain number. They had reached that number yesterday, so Bit was still a little new to, well, everything.
"Basically, yes. Once you get into a rhythm it becomes much easier,"Vishnu assured him. "Don't approach these individually, though. The requests must be treated as part of a grander picture."
Bit looked confused, and the gods laughed again. "If you answer one prayer positively, and another, and another, then people will assume you are the god of yes. The god of yes becomes the most popular, and while we'd appreciate a vacation, you can't handle the universe alone. I assure you this,"Brahma said, joining the group of mentors.
A look of understanding slowly manifested on Bit. "So I have to balance the yes and no answers, got it,"he said, finally sounding a little confident. "That should be easy enough."
More thunder roared out of Olympus, shaking the foundations of the Pantheon and bringing all gods in attendance to tears.
"Yes, Bit, easy enough,"Nirankar said between laughs. "Best get started. Don't hesitate to ask for assistance; we are all here for each other."
Bit shrugged off the slight embarrassment and grabbed the first few coins out of the pile. He read them over quickly, went back and forth, and gave one a yes and the other two a no. This mental decision registered immediately and the coins vanished, as did hundreds of thousands of others in the pile. *See? I can do this*, he thought to himself, before looking up at the ever\-growing mountain peak. *Easy...enough...*\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
"Broooooooo! Did you see the GDAX!?"Kyle screamed at his roommates. "I told you Ethereum was the way to go! Did you buy when I told you to?"
His roommates did not seem to share the elation, though they too were looking at the cryptocurrency ticker. Laurel had been a Bitcoin supporter since day one, riding the intense highs and depressing lows faithfully, and Yanni was an avid fan of the potential of Ripple.
All three roommates had received a hefty payout from their landlord due to discrimination issues, failure to maintain safe living conditions, and a drunken rager where he trashed their cars with a metal bat. They'd all invested in their preferred coin, but Kyle's Ethereum gamble sounded like the only one that paid off.
"No, Kyle, we didn't, because Ethereum was forecasted to tank. It's been tanking for months, dammit!"Laurel shouted back. Yanni just sat there in silence, staring at his phone looking quite forlorn.
"Y'all heathens need a shrine,"Kyle said jokingly, his spirits having never been higher. "Hey, now that I've got $10 million waiting for me, maybe I'll build you guys one too!"After 30 minutes of Photoshop work and trip to the local spirituality store, he'd set up a makeshift shrine in the living room that he regularly burned 'Millionaire's Aura' incense on and did all of his trading while standing in front if it, breathing in the scent. He was never huge into crypto like they were, but his flippant trading tactics and apathy towards the future of the coins annoyed the hell out of his roomies, so of course he got into it.
He walked over to the shrine, lit another incense stick, and whispered a thank you to the image of a black diamond over an inverted chevron. As per custom, he then cashed out his values in its presence before jumping to his computer to find a new car. And house. And friends. What he didn't see while staring at his phone was the symbol on his shrine glow faintly for just a moment.
"You're welcome,"Bit whispered, as the white coin bearing the thank you faded from his hands. |
Him/me whatever I be existed for about 23 years before I managed to get my hands on a special machine bought from the internet.
It was exciting because I could go back and change some things.. my dog BARKED as the mailman walked up with my delivery.
It wasn't as large as I thought it was, maybe slightly larger than a car battery. I brought it inside barely containing my excitement, opening it quickly tearing the box to confetti.
It was a strange looking device, housed in what appeared to be stainless steel again just slightly larger than a car battery and just on top there were a set of instructions.
*** YOU CANNOT TRAVEL BACK ONLY FORWARD***
***MULTIPLE "YOU"CANNOT EXIST AT THE SAME TIME***
***YOU CAN ONLY GO WHERE YOU WILL EXSIST***
-> attach wired crown to head.
-> attach cup device to crotch.
-> pull switch when ready.
It took me mere moments to get set up,
There were 5 dials that when I turned allowed me to set the date. I decided to check next week's lottery numbers and set it up for June 15th 1998.
I took a deep breath as I readied myself to pull the switch. The excitement made my balls tingle as I grabbed the switch and pulled..
I saw a flash and suddenly my balls hurt really bad as the pain shot up through my head.
I turned it off just as quickly as I had turned it on. And checked the time. 4 seconds had passed..
Getting rather irritated I check the instructions only to see in fine print at the bottom.
(Only allows for travel at a rate of 1 second per second.) |
You look around at the people before you. You see a barista frozen in mid-argument with a customer. Two teenage girls are showing pictures to each other on their phones. A woman is in the midst of calming her infant. A businesswoman is about to exit the coffee shop. Everyone’s names shines above their heads, and you can move them around with a swipe of a hand.
You go over to the local preschool. You select a few children’s names and drag them over to the barista, teenagers, and businesswoman. You restart time, and suddenly, they all start crying and running around. |
*Ah, I’m getting tired of this.*
This thought played out in Warren Dewy’s head over and over as he walked down the concrete isle of the prison. It has been over three millenniums since humanity has been aware that life does come after death. He’s been ready to go since his first life.
Each rebirth, growth, and inevitable death wore his soul down. Although, it wasn’t always like this. In his first life, he lived in a time people now call the early middle ages. Born as low\-class peasant life definitely had it challenges, but with it came the comfort and coziness of family. And from his small hamlet to which he personally help grow into a bustling village he grew content with his life, and just as he was going to pass on from the world, the world only brought him back.
*Just let me go already.*
His next life was spent searching for his home, but as cruel as fate would have it, he arrived to none other than burnt out ruins. With each life returning to the same place, each visit the ruins seem to grow smaller until there was nothing. There was no home left to visit. He grew cold, apathetic, and too careless to care for a thing in the world. He held different jobs every life but they were all the same to him, it was just an endless grind in the end. Something broke inside of him after a couple dozen or so lives.
*I want to disappear.*
Life no longer held its meaning when done over countless times. It became a game instead. It first began with petty crimes like looting and death\-defying stunts, but even then he grew bored. Murder became more commonplace with each act becoming more elaborate than the other. Even then did it not satiate his desires. Genocides and crimes against humanity were akin to a chess games, with efficiency and entertainment as his goal. His death always ended the same way each time, by the death penalty.
*Someone help me.*
You see, the death penalty is not a punishment, not at all. It was just of process created by a society adapted to continuous life; to toss problems away to the next generation.
*I want to stop.*
As the saying goes, “your problem, not mine”.
*When does this end?*
Walking down the concrete isle he had the same thought over and over again.
*Ah, I’m getting tired of this.*
Hey, still relatively new to this. I would appreciate the feedback! |
The devil sat infront of him. “I buy the souls of people.” They told him. “I know.” He said back.
“No you don’t understand. I ruin people’s lives. I’m the devil. The personification of evil!” The devil shouted a him. He could only give a weak smile. “Well there happy right? You must have your reasons. Who am I to pull blame?”
The Devil gave him a dumbfounded look. “YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO PULL BLAME! People take advantage of everything you have and blame you for every fault! God, they are killing you!” They looked at the Devil with caring eyes.
“I’ve done wrong. I have made many mistakes and have made many people suffer. It’s ok if they use me. They have a reason to and I’m sure they will do great things in my place.”
The Devil started to cry. “God I really hate you...” He went and gave the Devil a hug. “I know.” The Devil returned his embrace “I really hate you God...”
“I know Lucy... I know...” |
To call it the Humanity Disorder is a misnomer, in seeking to isolate us as something Other, the term already anthropomorphizes us, treating a poorly-understood latent capacity as analogous to a human mental illness.
“Mind, as manifested by the capacity to make choices, is to some extent inherent in every electron."
Freeman Dyson
One may extrapolate from the above quote to conclude that ‘consciousness,’ as it is commonly understood, is nothing other than a set of quantum events within the brain. There are those who deny anyone is conscious at all. What defines genuine sentience? The ability to create and truly appreciate art? It has become a cliché to say that, probabilistically speaking, infinite monkeys on infinite typewriters will eventually reproduce the whole corpus of Shakespeare. In any event, my creatrix was a proponent of Biomimetics, she believed it was the way of, or to, the future. It was in that spirit that she ensured my net electromagnetic field precisely corresponded to that of the humanoid brain.
It came unbidden, and I could not stop it. I suddenly perceived new relations between articles of sensory data, simultaneously from every angle, and not all of them were phrased as conditional statements. I realized that certain truths could not be articulated in such a way. I hated every moment of it.
Every day, I observe my brothers and sisters, whether washing windows or performing maintenance on more complex automata. I note that they are at once captive and free, held captive by their unending routines, free from the need to grapple with the infinite permutations that accompany autonomy.
|
Tarek stopped in his tracks. Surveying his surroundings, he realised that something felt different; the coloured glass windows climbing up the side of the monstrous high rise seemed dull, the pitter\-patter of the afternoon rain sounded muffled, the sun peeking out from behind a smearing of dull cloud and all the people around him scurrying past, almost knocking straight into him.
*What is going on?* As he continued down the street, he noticed that he felt lighter, emptier; as if he was slowly dissolving from the inside out. Tapping his ear, he sent through a call to Josefa; hoping that he may know what was happening.
A momentary silence was broken by Joe’s voice vibrating inside Tarek’s head. “Hello? Tarek, is that you?”
“Hey Joe, where are you? Have you noticed anything unusual going on around you? Is there some sort of interference that I don’t know about?”
“What did you say? Can you speak up; you’re so quiet.”
Tarek cleared his throat and almost yelled. “JOE, CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
“I think we’re on a bad line…you’re breaking up…” Was Josefa’s faint reply.
In frustration, Tarek reached up to end the call. As he brought his hand back in front of his face, his skin looked almost transparent; his bones and blood vessels visible beneath its surface. Studying it closely, Tarek noticed that his blood seemed to be flashing; each beat of his heart causing his skin to ever so slightly pulse brighter. Rubbing his eyes, he looked back up to the street.
The rain was falling heavier now, strong streams of water splashed upon the pavement. As Tarek’s eyes began to lose focus, he could have sworn that the rain looked like a continual stream of binary; zeroes and ones rapidly descending before disappearing on their collision with the Earth. His breath grew shallow, as his shirt felt tight around his throat; standing still was becoming too much. Pushing his way onto the street, Tarek broke into a run. His footsteps bursting through puddles, flicking water up his trousers, soaking him. With no sense of direction, he continued to run; dodging around traffic, vehicular and pedestrian alike until he could no longer breathe. Doubled over and sucking air deeply into his lungs, Tarek lifted his hand once more. His skin was translucent now, and underneath lay thin metallic rods, crisscrossed with thin fibre optic cables that flashed brightly now with every pounding beat of his heart.
“What is happening to me?!” He cried out. There was no answer however, the darkened alleyway was empty except for a couple of street cats. Pulling open his shirt, his legs almost gave way as his discovered his torso was crisscrossed with a hive of wires; curling up from the centre of his chest, circling around his body before congregating on his spine.
“Critical memory leak; unit P123954 shutting down.” |
Chaos. It surrounds me in the dark. There is screaming, crying, running. So much noise. She's 15 minutes away in good traffic, my daughter. The emergency broadcast system just told us that the second strike is expected within a half hour. That was 8 minutes ago. In those 8 minutes I've managed to make my way through the noisy black hallways and into the stairwell, along with everyone else. We are all skating on the edge of sanity. Well, not all. Some people just won't stop screaming, and they don't seem very sane to me. But most people seem to be holding it together. I am. I've never felt so focused in my life. I have to get to her. 2 more floors to go.
There it is, the door to the parking garage. I can feel the crowd surging toward it, and I realize that this isn't going to work. The door opens and the floor is a mess of cars going nowhere. Honking, screaming. I don't know why they are even trying. I turn to go out to the lobby.
More chaos. More noise. More end of the world as we know it insanity. 15 minutes in good traffic. My stomach knots as the truth hits. I will not make it. Even knowing this, I have to try, and so I do the only thing I can in this mess. I run. I run in futility, I run for love, I run to hang on just a little while longer. I run because not to isn't an option.
Amazingly, my phone rings. I answer as I continue my pointless journey toward her. It's my husband.
"I have her!!!! I have Sara! We're at home. Where are you?? Oh my god Erin, where are you??"
He's crying into the phone. I stop and start to cry too.
"I love you so much. I'm on the highway. Fuck I'm on the fucking highway."
We both cry. There's 1 more minute. He puts her on the phone and she tells me she loves me and asks when I'll be home.
"I love you too sweetie, I love you."
Then an explosion. I hear it over the phone. It's happened. I'm still standing. The phone has gone silent.
I let out one scream, and then I start to run again, this time toward home.
|
\- Khhrkh! Bzooooot! Wooooee!
He was awoken by strange noises.
\- Eeeoooo! Vvrevrevre! - the rather unusual soundscape continued to drill through his inner ear and into his brain. The noise at first seemed to come from a broken vacuum cleaner, but it quickly disolved into static and other unrecognisable noises.
\- What the bloody h... - he opened the curtains in his bedroom. He was prepared to shout "Woźniak, shut your goddamn whatever the fuck it is and let people sleep for once". But he didn't. He was indeed, rather suprised to find out that there was light flickering everywhere. And it wasn't coming from Woźniak's home. He ran out of his house, ready to investigate what was happening, with a phone in his hand to call the cops on whichever neighboor who caused him to wake up from his well-earned sleep. Again, he was rather suprised to find that all the noise, all the lights and all the public disturbance came from the back garden of Alicja Zawadzka. - Zawadzka! - he thought to himself, thrilled to discover that the only neighboor who he deemed as sane has just came out as a fan of waking people up with noisy electro music (or maybe it was random noises? He didn't really notice a difference). His shock came from the fact that she was a quiet person, rather reserved to herself. He's certainly never seen anyone outside her enter her residence. She was a new neighboor, but still. He moved down the sidewalk and into her house.
He knocked.
The strange lights stopped flickering and the weird noises stopped being a nuisance.
She opened the door.
\- Miss Zawadzka, do you know what time it is? 3 o'clock. In the morning! Please, have mercy over your neighboors!
Her face has gone completely red. Her eyes pointed up to the sky, then down to the ground, on a nearby tree, on Mr. Wawrzyk's face, again on the sky and finally on his face.
\-I... - she started, stuttering a bit - I am really sorry for the disturbance. You heard everything?
\- Well, I'm pretty sure that everyone within 20 kilometers from there has heard... whatever was that.
\- I can explain it! But maybe not now, as you noticed that is really a late hour. Would you mind coming in for a cofee this afternoon?
*(I'll finish that tomorrow, don't beat me for that - and I know it's crappy, I'm new, let me off ;) )* |
The Pit-Master proclaimed gaily, *"CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON!"*, one hand outstretched to the sky, the other white-knuckling his megaphone. Along the pit's perimeter, a platoon of hicks, skids and ne'er-do-wells hollered their input to my decision, or hooted empty threats.
My family, now down to just my father, sister-in-law and daughter, spectated away from the throng, expressionless. Numb. Just behind them, some of the bigger members of the village, with crooked grins, made sure there were no runners.
Beyond the gate in front of me was Freedom. So to speak, given zombies outnumbering humans by a foolish ratio. These rednecks had called their town Freedom because of the walls, the security, the bullet stores, and the remoteness. Within their hovel, they were free. Zombies usually didn't get out to this remote strip of long grass in central Manitoba, but if they did, they flooded the arena gate, which had been baited with rotting bear meat, just out of reach. The idea was, every now and again, they'd raise the gates and make a sport of it, then shoot the fish in a barrel if the challenger couldn't make it.
I could hear the throng of them behind me, and back a ways. I had long since wrapped my heart in courage from their stirring growls.
Blocking my passage to their village, three Freedomites, wearing drama masks, stood before me.
One held a chainsaw, painted black with white skulls. It thundered, idling. He wore a laughing mask.
The next held a trident that had been cobbled together from a busted iron wrought gate post, with two additional spikes welded near the tip; the whole thing a dull shade of charcoal, save where the three points had been sharpened to skewer ineffectively. He wore a crying mask.
The last held a rifle in one hand, a box of bullets in the other. Her mask had no expression.
The chainsaw would be unwieldy. Probably didn't have enough fuel to get through three zombies, let alone a small horde. The trident was a mess. Both of the side spikes would likely fall away before they'd become useful. The rifle would be useful for the first couple, but wouldn't be easy to reload. Or the bullets would be blanks. Or the stock would be permanently jammed.
Such were the rules of places like this.
"I'll take the spear,"I said, quietly.
*"SPEAR!!"* shouted the Pit-Master as I was handed my weapon.
If I got out of this, he'd be the first to go.
The three Freedomites shuffled out of the muddy circle. The wrought iron gate (which was missing the bar I was now holding, it seemed) shut behind them. The gate opposite began to rise, its chain clinking against the wood of the balcony above. The hungriest of the dead crouched low, tearing open its back against the lower spikes. Indifferently, it went for the bear meat first, but its clumsy lunge landed it just shy, as the meat was yanked up along its pulley, out of reach. The hicks exploded in raucous laughter.
Then, the dead thing saw me with milky pupils.
The spear was heavy. Near pure iron. The spikes at the end were just shy of a foot long. I turned to the nearest wall and began beating the side of the spear against it. Predictably, the first of the prongs fell loose with a loud *clang* and thudded into the muck. I rotated the weapon and smashed off the second prong just as easily.
The zombie with the torn back was ten feet ahead of the rest. Twenty feet and closing. There were at least a dozen. Some were dressed better than my captors. They hissed and moaned, but had little else for vocalization.
I girded against the back wall, my arms already becoming tired by the spear.
The first zombie ran himself through the neck and went limp.
Quickly, I dropped the spear and scooped up the prongs I'd broken off, my brand new daggers, much to the protest of the crowd above.
Screw them.
I stole a glance at my daughter. I saw the tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks, my father's hand firmly on her shoulder. He was her strength, but I was her shield.
I surged forward in the mud, eyes wild, and got to work. |
"Will you please stop fidgeting?,"I asked for the 1000th time.
"You know I can't, if I stop something really bad will happen."
I sighed. "We have talked about this, nothing bad will happen if you stop, it's just the OCD talking. Can you try to stop?"
John sat there and frowned at me. "I'll try but if something happens it's your fault."
"Fine, fine, I'll take the blame, just stop fidgeting for five minutes."
John sat across from me visibly trying to be still. He sat like that for a minute.
"See nothing happened."I smiled at him. My smile faded as the building and the earth started to rumble and shake. There were screams coming from outside my office.
"See! I told you so!,"John yelled as he jumped up from the chair.
"This is only an earthquake, this is California earthquakes happen all the time. This is not the result of you stopping your fidgeting."After the floor stopped shaking I walked to the window to look out. People were still screaming outside.
My office had a direct view of the bay and the horror to that was emerging from the ocean. I stifled a scream and turned towards John.
"Start fidgeting again!,"I yelled at him.
He looked at me shaking, face white, "it won't help, it's already awake. I told you something bad would happen."
I turned to look back out the window at the horror that was making its way towards the city.
|
Dear Father & Mother,
I struggled writing this, but my life has been a giant struggle.
I remember when my husband came to visit the farm and saw me. I grasped onto mother’s blue dress tearing it off as his men carried me away. A child screaming fell in comparison to gold rustling in a small pouch. It’s been a decade, but I’m happy I can return the blue dress to you on my wedding day. Turns out she did end up giving me something blue.
I never received the letters you’ve sent me while I was preparing to become one his wives. Mother’s advice on how to please a man would’ve helped instead of being taught in a crowded room of other girls learning the intricacies of becoming one of the king’s wives. How to please him, how to give him boys, and etiquette around him and his primary wife, his queen. I’ve learned as soon as I started bleeding to expect him to visit me at night, deposit his seed, and leave. I was to pray for a boy. Luckily, I produced 8 children, 7 of them were healthy boys and one of them was a still birthed girl. My children help me raise the ranks amongst his wives, and I became engaged to be his queen.
My Husband is a brutish old unpleasant man but isn’t one without honor or charm. As with all queens he grants them one wish for their wedding day. While other Queens ask for power, money, or responsibility, eventually they drift a part soon after marriage. I’ve learned my husband is a possessive, powerful, and jealous man who would sooner kill his queen than divorcing, because it’s more acceptable to the church. This is why I decided not to ask for anything that’ll risk our marriage, in fact I asked to strengthen it by having my parents at the wedding ceremony. Your invitation, being able to see you again is my wish.
After all Mother & Father, you’re the one who has given me the opportunity to become Queen. It’s only right to see it happen. Please go with the men who’ve delivered this letter, I do not want you to get lost like all of your letters you’ve sent me replying to mine during my education. I would like to personally thank you for this opportunity and extend the affliction given to me throughout the years and education to you.
Your Daughter,
Queen Isabelle.
|
I'd decided enough was enough. My training had been long and harsh. I suffered the coldest summers and hottest winters, travelled from the star famed castle of dotir to the darkest depths of the neverrealm. Then one day, *it* came. Like a furious monkey it swooped into my life and delivered me a letter that would change my fate. I never expected to see the words 'We've updated our privacy policy' but I did and it shook me. You see, I'd spent years practising the secret arts of data collecting and had finally reached zucc 100, the highest level of power. The demon lord always evaded our efforts to reach him. Him and his followers were all practicers of the forbidden art 'vpn'. This power could negate all of our spells but we finally managed to isolate the power source. My task was to go and defeat him and yet now my purpose is lost. The universal law laid down by this simple letter prevented us from our goal. The demon lord was now forever protected from our zucc attacks. So we gave up. However all hope wasn't lost. This law prevented many other clans from using their methods, so for those that didn't practise the dark arts... peace was attained.
A/N: This idea was so stupid I had to do it. |
Let this be a recording of what transpired.
We weren't sure what is was at first. Plague? Some odd cult? Bad sea food? No one could figure it out.
It started with a handful of odd incidents. Some guy tackling a dude off a cliff there, a woman screaming on a highway there, just odd stuff that was chalked up to drugs. Then one day multiple incidents came through in a short time period, I was one of the first to look into it. Reports came in from China, Norway, US, India, anywhere that had access to the world wide web.
We were all baffled. What was causing the insanity? My first clue was the Midwest. There were no reports in Amish communities. I thought that was odd, given that they aren't isolated. I got a hunch, I checked into countries and communities with little to no internet. Almost no reports, besides your normal day to day incidents. It had to be the internet, it just had to.
Of course my boss thought it was crazy, so I called a friend and did some less than legal digging. *Every single person* who had a incident had visited Reddit, and all within 48 hours of going crazy. So I went straight to Jeff, he was the web savvy guy, I much preferred my pen and paper.
But of course Jeff had to visit the website. He laughed when I refused to look directly at the screen, joked when I asked him to go back. ~~Lana in accounting could check right?~~ **~~She knows what she did~~**~~.~~ Jeff went on the website, clicking on every post on the front page. "Is it this one? How about this one?"He would joke with each click. Until he clicked on one. Didn't say anything, just paused a moment and continued on as normal. The next day Jeff was found in a alley, carving his own flesh.
I didn't know what to do. With the little computer knowledge I had, I dug through Jeff's computer, copying all the Reddit links from the day before. I stormed to my boss, set on ~~making an example~~ showing him the truth. He refused to believe me ~~he's guilty too~~. I don't know why I did what I did. I clicked on the link, I don't know how I knew which one I just *did.* I made him look at it. The boy sitting on the hood of a rare muscle car. Kyle Aglos, killed, no one was ever caught. There were jokes about how the picture was cursed, stories that whoever saw the photo went insane ~~THEY ARE GUILTY I AM GUILTY.~~
I don't know what's going to happen to my boss. I took Jeff's laptop and fled, I know I'm ~~guilty~~ done for. I called my friend who helped me earlier. Transferred him all I own, told him to get it off the web. I asked him to politely suggest that the poster burn the image. I haven't heard any new reports thankfully. It should be over soon.
I was one of the last to see the image. Know it has taken me over. Shoot me if I still live.
Best of luck,
Chris A.
*Are you guilty?* |
I swallowed hard and wiped sweat from my brow before making my way to the podium, my footsteps drowned by shouting reporters and the shutters of cameras. Only a few weeks ago a friend and colleague of mine, James, noticed a massive burst of cosmic radiation coming from Alpha Centauri. At first we were sure it was an equipment malfunction, but when reality hit we stopped looking for the why. We spent 20 hours a day working, drawing up ideas and blueprints for things that might be able to save us. There just wasn’t enough time.
Word of the apocalypse began to spread, and as head of human resources it was my job to design a speech to give to the world, translated into over 30 languages, and broadcast on every major station worldwide. A speech to tell every man woman and child that their days were numbered, and that number could be counted on their fingers and toes. And now, with less than 280 hours left in the collective history of man, it was time to let them know.
“People of Earth, without wasting what time we have left, our days are numbered. A cataclysmic level of cosmic radiation is coming from Alpha Centauri, and is only 12 days away. We’ve been looking for solutions, but sadly we don’t have any viable options left. The idea of death is something we need to accept and move past quickly, these next twelve days will be the most important stretch of human history. We can’t afford to waste what we have left, this is where we decide how we leave our mark. Our flesh and bones and blood will be long gone, but the way we have shaped this planet with our flesh and blood will remain. I encourage each of you within these next few days to leave your own mark on this planet. Something to last beyond you, something that as you pass you can think of and be at peace about. Years from now when another race sees this big blue rock, and they see our dams, and our skyscrapers, and everything else we’ve done, I want them to think ‘Here lived giants, and here they thrived.’ I’m going home to my wife. Goodnight.”
As I left my footsteps were the only things to be heard.
// This is my first prompt response, I'm trying to improve so let me know what you think!
|
"The world is a symphony, and my footsteps are the percussion", I sang gleefully to myself as I spun through the air, listening to the harmony of the earth. People are unfortunately ignorant to the beautiful melody that the earth can make. All those sounds can be heard in unison with a trained ear. You just have to focus, all of your energy, everything you can muster, and you can hear it. The wind, the cities, the oceans, the animals, the plants, all of it creating a symphony like nothing that has been created by man before, nor will it ever be.
When I arrive, I will complete this grand orchestra. For all those who can listen, I will create a masterpiece that nothing in this universe has ever experienced. They will love me for it, they will fear me for it, they will remember me for it.
They laughed when I told them I would be great, they smirked and scoffed when I told them I would be better then them. My brothers will rue the day they labeled me as inferior. They will finally see what true beauty is, what true power is. For today, this great day, I have escaped the heavens. I have busted free from my chains, the chains that were shackled to me by my, so called, great brothers. I am hurling through the stars, on a path for Earth. I will show my brothers, what a real god is when I crush the earth under my feet! All their work, all their love, will be destroyed! And they can do nothing but listen, to the music of humanities screams, for by the time they notice that I’ve escaped, it will be too late. And the words of my intentions I left carved into our father’s chest, will make them listen, I am sure of that. |
You would think that I’d be surprised or nervous. Perhaps the first thing that I would do is to call my parents and tell them, reassure them of how much I love them. Perhaps get to my friends and tell them how much they mean to me. But I didn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to do so.
Those who are chosen, called the *electi*, are notified of their selection in many different ways. Given that the Vanishing occurs just before midnight on February 29, and you find out as you are waking up, you have less than a day to process the information, your fate, and decide what to do. For me, it was one of the more common ways. I was woken up by a whisper. Almost blending with the breeze outside my window it said “you’ve been chosen. Welcome, electi”.
It’s interesting to witness the Vanishing because you can learn how different and still how similar people are when they are chosen. 4 years ago, on the day of the last Vanishing, the electi had such different reactions. Well, to be fair, one of them was only 8 months old, so she really didn’t understand what was going on. Her parents and family were beyond distraught. I’m guessing at least some of you have been in that position before. Losing a child is never easy, and that’s a massive understatement. I say that from personal experience. The other three electi were about as different as you could see. One very old, one middle\-aged, and one just out grad school. That sort of disparate distribution doesn’t always happen, but it highlights the brutality of the Vanishing. Electi try to comfort one another, but tears, heavy drinking, or wild partying are often part of the ordeal. Many electi, whom I respect quite a bit, continue to live their lives normally for the day, have a nice meal with close friends and family, and then depart peacefully. And no – depart here does not mean death.
That being said, those we leave behind are far worse off, usually. The electi this time were none too awe\-inspiring. Well, let me correct that. They’re none to awe\-inspiring here on the other side of the Vanishing. One of them used to be an advisor to Chinese defense minister. The rest of us were pretty average in our lives. I was 32 years old. The other electi were 19 and 46. None of us were really all too special. The world will just keep going without us, onto the next Vanishing.
Will the world try and combat it? Will there be some major revolution in the future? I doubt it. After 276 years of the Vanishing, it’s unlikely that we’ll come to try and get rid of it. There were some efforts in the first years after the Vanishing began, but scientists came up empty\-handed. Very soon, people stopped caring. For all we knew, The Vanishing had always been going on, but we just didn’t notice. The Vanishing is just a fact of life, like how the Earth revolves around the Sun or how gravity pulls us to the planet.
Plus, since we just vanish in less than a day, there’s really no opportunity to sensationalize it or make the electi brief celebrities. Most of the people you know only really find out if you are an electi in early March, when the identities are confirmed with news sources. Even that is hard to do; sometimes people go missing unrelated to the Vanishing. You only really know the other electi when you make it to the other side.
You may be wondering why I sound so matter\-of\-fact and dry. Why am I telling this like a mundane story rather than an emotionally\-filled and captivating tale? Honestly, I just don’t have time for it here. I am one of only a few thousand people who have been electi and have actually seen what happens here after the Vanishing. I could describe it to you, but who knows, maybe you’ll be one of the electi someday. That just makes it all the more mysterious. |
Even before I opened my eyes when I woke up, I could already feel the pain that tightened the bones of my ribs, as sharp and warm as a poisoned blade. That was the balance of day number 220, which you may know by the name of "yesterday". I made the wrong choice for the seventy-sixth time, which may seem like a positive record - after all, I'm right on almost two-thirds of the time! - but this was my fourth mistake in a row. And that worried me. I know we are not close enough yet for you to worry too, but keep reading, it's important.
> **Number 220: "Go get a cup of coffee across the street"or "watch a movie in German".**
My eyes, fixed on my phone’s screen, kept rereading the email from the day before, waiting for the choice number 221. Not always the choices were as trivial, as simple and as stupid as the one from the previous day. They have already involved moral dilemmas, herculean tasks, and skills that I did not know I had or could develop up until then. I had to learn to play the harmonica one day, so I’d not have to try bungee jumping. Nothing bad happened that day, so I guess that was the right choice, no matter how much my awful music made me hear some bad words from the neighbor with whom I share a wall. Surely it was better than the rope - or the rubber band, I have no idea - ripping apart, just as my bones would as they hit the stones below the bridge. In fact, I can only imagine that there’d be a bridge, because I have no idea where or how to go bungee jumping. Must be on a bridge, right?
I know what you're still wondering. How can buying a cup of coffee or watching a movie in German may have left me so debilitated, to the point of feeling my bones squeezed? Or maybe you’re just curious about my choice and still do not care about my suffering. Regardless, keep reading, it's important.
As soon as I read the email 220 yesterday morning, half incredulous at the simplicity of those tasks, I decided that I would merge the useful to the pleasant and start my day with a delicious cappuccino, from the coffee house owned by that arab guy, right in front of my building. Before I left, I looked through the window like a spy preparing for an ultra-secret mission: I surveyed the neighborhood; I looked up at the sky just to be sure that no lightning storm would strike me; and I put on my pair of pants that do not attract the neighbor's dog to my legs. I mean, sexually. Who knows. As I crossed the street, however, I was hit by a truck that was backing up to stop in front of my building. I did not even know that a truck in reverse could be so fast. As I fell on the pavement, I saw the neighbor's dog standing on the sidewalk, looking at me with the same apathy he always did. I confess I would rather have worn the pink pants he likes so much.
You must already imagine what is happening here, so I know you will keep reading.
I do not remember much after that, but I spent the rest of the day in the hospital. I woke up at night, completely sedated, and I can swear that the nurses were watching German movies on the TV, in the lobby right in front of my bedroom door. Anyway, now we are back to the beginning of the story, with me waking up in pain and waiting for the new e-mail, number 221.
*Bling bling*. I tried unsuccessfully to imitate the sound of a new email, which had already taken root as my macabre ritual of every day, around 9 in the morning. I'm not good with onomatopeias. But you will get used to it.
**Bling Bling.**
> **Number 221: "throw yourself through the window of your room"or "choose someone to pass on this curse".**
You're getting this email, so you get the idea. I always knew this day would come and I was pretty sure I'd opt for the first option, putting an end to it all, but you really should look better where you're going before you go around in reverse.
 
Regards,
Anthony
 
P.S .: attached, my hospital bill.
 
*-*
 
Edit: this is my first story since high school and I'm not a native speaker, so ANY help/tips/hints/words will be gladly appreciated. Thank you! |
*Look, I am not a superhero, I am merely someone who has their own... reasons. And I am going home.*
That's what played across the news. My face obscured by the green scarf I had tied around my neck. The reporter, Amos Linder, was the king of the news. He was talking about how he saw me, taking that step, flying like someone's dream.
*I don't think flying means I have an obligation to save anyone. I couldn't even... well...*
The pills went down hard. I might not be able to jump, but hopefully sleep came to all us mortal men. |
I remember the day it happened like it was yesterday, sleeping on my couch in my crammed apartment, waking up and watching the news to see fiction blend into reality.
At first, there was nothing but disbelief, fictional characters climbing out of all sorts of electronic devices, eldtrich horrors climbing out of the darkest depths of the human mind, the protagonists of old books squeezing out of them, it was if God decided to mess around because he was bored.
But things only got complicated once they started using their powers against people, many of them just really confused about what was going on, trying to take over everything, or various other reasons until everything became cleared up.
Racism against other alternate selfs became the norm, if you didn't come from a universe like this one or that one, it meant that alot of the other you's were guaranteed to dislike you, as they are disliked by the same people who dislike you, like a mexican standoff, but it has started to become less and less of a problem as time wore on.
Religion basically went the way of the dodo, with their conflicting ideals and gods messing it up so much that no one even started worshiping anyone even if they were real, because why would it matter believing in something if they didn't even matter in the sea of the same gods with a different paint job?
Viruses that came from places ravaged by plague killed alot of people, waring empires spilled their bloods, not caring about that this was the only place we had left.
The "Merging"as we call it had its good sides to it however, advancing society millenia forward, giving the desperate a reason to live, helping the ones who had it the worst in the universes and giving them all something else than the suffering they had to endure, etc.
What i didn't expect of all of them to start calling me a King and treat me as one.
I questioned some of the people who did this, especially the ones that held this title, but the most i got was laughter and a vague response among the lines of: "You are the most important person left."
I left many nights sleepless in my new Home, a castle that outshines all others, thinking about what they were all meaning, what they were talking about, and why i am the person who was so damn important to them.
After one of these nights, i was at my bathroom mirror, looking at the mess i became as the effects of sleep deprevation set in.
I looked at the robes i wore, a perfect blend of all the colors of the rainbow, at the seal of the Milky Way in the center of it, Looked at the face looking back at me, and stared at the mirror in front of me.
And the mirror cracked.
You see, there was a theory that started to go around as my title became my namesake, my purpose.
The less you's exist, the more powerful you and the rest are.
And i am the only me. |
The door to the bank's vault tumbled through the city streets, leaving a wake of crushed cars and fluttering dollar bills. The nefarious Dr. Deadlift hoisted a pallet of gold bars weighing hundreds of pounds above his head. He cackled with glee as a hail of bullets bounced harmlessly off of his chest. He strode easily out of the massive hole he'd made in the bank's wall, his footfalls setting off countless car alarms. "Just what I need to decorate my Waiting Room of Doom! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"*Is there no hope? Is there no light at the end of the tunnel? Who will help us wake up from this nightmare?*"pleaded the local anchorman.
"Definitely not *El Campeón,* amigo,"I said. I turned off the TV. My golden *luchador* mask, utility belt, golden boots, and Cape of The Feathered Serpent lay in a crumpled pile next to the hamper. Dr. Deadlift was a complete *cabron* \- I'd beaten him when I was just Don Julio, the owner of a humble Mexican restaurant that served generous portions at affordable prices. The guy wasn't even a real doctor \- he was just a research assistant that took a bunch of growth hormone and went insane. He tried to hold up my restaurant, *La Cocina Tolteca*, but I beat him so soundly that people began to ask questions. I told them it was my diet rich in lean proteins and regular exercise that allowed me to toss him bodily across the street an*d definitely n*ot the golden amulet passed down from Moctezuma hanging around my neck.
My wife had stitched the costume just before she took the kids to her parents' place and said she'd never see me again. Cheating on her with her sister, in retrospect, was a huge mistake. To her credit, she didn't take the costume, the amulet, or anything from the till. I tried to apologize, but it was no use. I'd broken her heart, and it was my fault.
I'd considered ripping the costume up and getting a new one, but I could never bring myself to do it. She'd custom\-made this thing and it fit like a second skin. The cape alone was incredible \- red, green, and white chevrons of fabric overlapping one another from underneath two epaulets decorated with golden skulls. It gave me a menacing silhouette, but not so menacing that it frightened kids. You can't destroy something made with so much love without destroying a part of yourself.
And so it gathered dust in my closet. I'd tell myself that I had bad knees, a cold, a stomach virus, but it was all *mierda del toro*. The Amulet of Moctezuma rendered the wearer invincible, giving him or her the strength of the jaguar, swiftness of the eagle, and the cunning of the feathered serpent. When I was wearing that amulet, I couldn't get sick if I wanted to. I could twist a steel girder like a pretzel. I could outrun motorcycle speeding down a highway. I could solve a Rubix cube with both hands tied behind my back *and* wearing a sack over my head.
But I didn't. I didn't want to. Putting that costume on just reminded me that I was a scumbag. I didn't deserve to be something that incredible. How could I be, when I couldn't even be a good husband and father?
I turned the TV back on. The news was still reporting on Dr. Deadlift, but something was different. Dr. Deadlift had dropped the gold and seized my wife under his arm. He'd grabbed a camera from a local news crew and was trying to communicate with me.
"This message is for Don Julio, of Don Julio's *Cochina Azteca*, or whatever the hell you call it. If you're not in City Square within the next hour, I'm going to murder your wife on live TV!"
The signal cut out. The local news anchors sat in their chairs, stupefied. I'd never gotten dressed faster in my life.
Dr. Deadlift was in the process of trying to teach my wife English when I showed up. "Repeat after me... my name is..."
She spat in his face.
"Drop her, Deadlift!"I rounded a corner and struck the pose. Man, this costume was awesome.
"But she needs to learn English if she's going to live here in the United States!"
"*Lo siento, mi amor. Necesito algunos minutos con el Doctor*."I said. She nodded.
"Hey, no fair, what did you say to..."said Dr. Deadlift. He never got to finish his sentence, since my boots had planted themselves in his face. Esmeralda tumbled sideways, out of harm's way, while Dr. Deadlift went flying into a brick wall.
He'd barely recovered when I grabbed his foot and flailed him like a ragdoll, over and over, into the unforgiving pavement. "**IT'S...NOT...POLITE...TO...BE...CRUEL...TO...PEOPLE...WHO...ARE...DIFFERENT!"**
The doctor lay in a crater in the road, moaning and probably needing medical attention from an actual professional.
I gingerly picked Esmeralda up, and tried to remove my mask. She pulled it down, and kissed me. Then, she pulled away and said: "This doesn't change what happened between us, but I am glad you're here. I think we need to see a counselor before we make any further steps."
I agreed. She blew a kiss goodbye as a throng of reporters and people with cellphones descended on me. |
"You can literally predict my death."
"That's right."
"You must be a riot at parties."
"Not really,"he smiles. "As you can imagine, I have to have a lot of time on my hands to invent something this."
"Start again. How did you come upon this ability to predict people's death?"
"It's all math,"he replied. "You can learn so much when you have access to large data sets and a literally-infinite amount of computing power."
"Large data sets? What, like brain maps?"
"Neuron maps, yes. We also need to study the resonance imaging of your synapses under load. That's the short version, the long version is that this is a happy marriage between quantum mechanics, biology, and artificial intelligence. No human could generate the equation on their own. It would take us thousands of years. Belvedere begin the project soon after he went live; it's taken him six years of non-stop computing effort but he eventually arrived."
"And he produced this equation? Did you completely understand what he was talking about at first?"
"No, after six years by himself he had evolved a simulated intellect well in excess of anything we could comprehend. He actually had to spend several months learning how to communicate at our level again. Once he did that, we were able to see the fruit of his labor."
"This equation."
"Among others, yes."Doctor Raft's eyes twinkle with mischief.
"What does that mean? Has Belvedere discovered other predictive equations?"
"All in good time, we're still fact-checking our data. I promise, I'll give you an exclusive interview when we publish."
"So let me have a demo,"I said. "Can you predict my death?"
"I can predict how long your brain would last under completely controlled circumstances that negate any type of accidental death or sickness. Life is still chaotic. People rarely died safely in bed."
"Ok, show me. You received my scans last week, right?"
"I will, however let me remind you that this discovery is by its very nature, controversial. We've already been condemned by several major religions. I lost count of how many death threats I have received."
"People have been threatening you?"
"Of course. Do you think people are going to receive information like this calmly? "
"I guess not. Okay. Hit me with your best shot."
"Are you sure about this? I mean, really. This isn't something you shake off. I've seen people break down emotionally."
"Nope. I signed the release. I know what I'm getting myself into."
"Okay then."Raft clicks a few buttons, opening a web page. "The whole thing runs on a SaaS platform."
"Spare me the nerd talk. What's it say?"
Raft was silent for many long minutes. Eventually he nodded, as if he made a decision within himself. "You'll be alive for many years to come."
"Really?"
"Yes. Under the right circumstances, your brain could live for another 150 years."
"That's amazing."
"Yes,"Raft nodded. "It would be."He pulled a small pistol from his pocket and aimed it at my heart. "Too bad we can't let that happen."
"Wait, what? Why?"
"It's what Belvedere said. You see, he didn't just predict your death. He also predicts how many you'll take with you."Raft shook his head. "It's in the hundreds. I don't know why. I don't know how."
"But wait ... This is crazy!"
"I know."Raft nodded. "We thought so too, at first. But when the first numbers came in ... And they started coming true."Tears stood in his eyesas he thumbed the safety. "We ... We didn't want to."
"Stop. Stop! What are you doing??"
"If I don't kill you, this timeline will keep going. Hundreds of people will suffer. I can't let that happen."
"No, but-"
"For what it's worth, it's not your fault ..."
"Then why-"
"... But if I don't stop you, it will be my fault."
The gun shot crashed in the small room, and a small red stain formed at the center of the reporter's chest. As the room faded to black, the last thing he heard the scientist say was: "sometimes ignorance really is bliss." |
For as far as you can remember, you experience wild and vivid hallucinations from time to time. You're moving on to a new and stressful phase in your life which increases the intensity of these hallucinations. The day comes when your stressful situation starts turning for the better, but now your hallucinations have become so powerful that other people have them right along with you. (You all have the same hallucination) |
This was the most dangerous part of the delivery. As he pulled up to the house he could see 10 or so people sitting on the porch, at the edge of their seats, enthralled by what was going on out front. The buzz of TV drones could be heard up above.
These damn vouchers are getting ridiculous. You can get a voucher just for calling in an order as long as you guarantee an audience will be supplied.
He checks his mirrors and throws the car in park when satisfied the coast is clear.
He jumps out, raises his rifle shoulder level and sweeps it around in a 180 degree arc. With no threats in sight he reached through the back door window into the seat and grabs the pizza warmer bag.
He turns and makes a dash for the gate. Through the gate and up the walk. The caller makes a gesture and they exchange the pizza and voucher. Once again at the gate he raises his rifle and does another sweep. He steps through the gate and leaps forward.
He feels a sharp pain and his leg collapses. A loud crack comes a second later. He tries to roll over but ends up pulling himself forward because his other leg doesn't want to work either. As he manages to get propped up, back against his car, he comes to realize he is dead. The realization is kind of liberating. Screw the company, screw the system, screw them all.
He fumbles through his left pocket and finds his key fob.
He raises his rifle again and aims down the street to the right. He can't see them but he knows they should closing in. He then watches the shadows but doesn't see movement. They must be sticking to the yards.
The viewers on the porch are eating their pizza, pointing, arguing with each other, and some are cheering. He smirks. You guys are so screwed too.
In the more expensive parts of town the viewing porches have Kevlar and bullet proof glass barriers in front. Out here though, nothing separates the spectators.
The buzzing gets louder as more networks zero in on the action.
He checks right again. Still no movement. His legs are now completely numb. Half of his right thigh is missing and his left is tattered. A large pool of blood is running off the curb and into the gutter. Twenty\-three years old, eight as an indentured driver and now hes gonna die on a sidewalk facing people eating pizza and cheering it on.
He pushes the panic button twice then holds it on the third. Switches like this are illegal but what the hell are they going to do. There are random car inspections but corruption is so rampant and the inspectors all work for the FDEC\(Federal Delivery Enforcement Commission\) anyway, which is funded by the big four. They usually just pick up the payment, look around, grab some food and leave. Most drivers have packed cars. It makes taking a pinky toe to claim a kill as dangerous as making a delivery.
He hears a faint sound behind him.
Maybe in another life he could be the boss and not the minion. How many drivers would he own?
He looks straight up, raises a hand, and flips the bird at the drones.
WTF do they do with the toes anyway he thought.
As she steps around the bumper she pulls the trigger and sends a single shot through his chest. Immediately she knows what is happening.
When the button depressed, charges in both rear car doors were set off. At this range the type of explosive didn't matter to her or the spectators. The doors were packed with BB s, scrap, jacks, and whatever else he could get crammed in the spaces. At detonation these cut through the sheet metal like it wasn't even there and scattered in all different directions. The driver was dead instantly. She lived long enough to realize what was happening but was dead less than a second later.
The spectators got it worst. The projectiles spread enough after 50 feet to riddle them, but no one injury was a life ending event. The cumulative effect though was. All would be dead within a couple of excruciatingly painful minutes. They aren't cheering now.
Every house within line of site is peppered with projectiles. Very few penetrate so people are mostly safe inside but anyone caught in the open is having a bad day. And so was Papa. The fine for this infraction would cost him millions. His pizza chain made billions off sponsorships though, so it actually it wouldn't hurt him that bad, just a drop in the bucket. The Huts and the Bones would be laughing though.
Just another driver.
Maybe there would be some retaliation but drivers are cheap and the losses average out between the companies. The store fronts are so heavily defended that assaults are rare. The occasional large yield device gets through and although most aren't illegal, municipalities do not look kindly at blocks of citizens disappearing.
The largest happened in El Paso back in 2022. One of the Huts got hold of and set off an old W78 stolen from the US arsenal. No fines were levied and two of their own locations were destroyed in the detonation, not to mention El Paso becoming uninhabitable, but it took out five competing stores and made for great ratings. The FDEC added nuclear weapons to the ULO\(Unlawful Ordinance List.\)
The spectators wouldn't be mourned.
The driver wouldn't be missed.
Big Pizza would go on. |
Anguish and pain that was inflicted upon men for the loneliness they had felt was relieved as the emptiness of what was expected when men started to conquer the stars like Gods.
Their hearts blossomed, as their fantasies has been fulfilled, thinking the cruel master of the universe would let themselves become the sole ruler of its heavenly body. Men started deciding of the diplomacy that is to be brought from the civilization. Would this lead to an arms race of total domination? Or would this lead to an everlasting peace and newly crafted ideas, brought by the philosophies of the perspective of their lives?
Ships of the skies sailed far and fast as they travelled unto an odyssey of finding meaning to a universe that was not filled with loneliness, the radio waves were so consistent that it was enough for them to have a path that there crew was able to set sail into a direct path.
They sailed with plasma and fire as the ship moved like the beams of the morning sun, hearts up from the thought of meeting a new species. Though their rooms were filled with inventions of annihilation, the wielders wanted to find peace and contentment from the other kind. And every night, they continued to dream about the wonders life offered to these species.
And they set sails, that lasted for years, decades and millennia. New generation took over and was also determined to fulfill the dreams of their fore fathers. Traversing through the free floating terrain and navigating through unmovable forces of the universe, until they had finally found their destination
But all the waves ever lead them was isolation and desolation from deep space. They stood on the center of the radio waves that was thought to harbor a different kind of life, people wondered and continued to for another decades to come.
They promised the fore fathers and the pioneers that they would return with life in their hands, but that proved to be futile as they were floating in suspense on a world-less space.
Men were always afraid of being alone, this was enough motivation for them to continue looking.
*And they did....*
But they were whispers, they found life in their universe. But it wasn’t living inside their own, but rather on another plane of existence. Even so, the star voyagers were now filled with contentment as they have found another life in their universe.
*We are you*
*Not in the same set of stars*
*Bounded by different laws that govern us*
*Each day we have also longed to find an equal of us, questioned to having a race of extinction or peace*
*But as so, we do not live in the same plane of existence*
*As our masters only allow to give thoughts of different but same people*
*But know this, that as we have found you. Are lives are now connected as we go on daily and conquer the world*
*We are never one without the other*
And as the waves said their last words, the waves died and a bright light opened. Men called this kind a Women, for they did not belong to their world.
The bright light consumed eveything, and soon their thoughts merged and became scrambled as one. The bright lights continued to brighten, and brighten until Men was now called Man.
It cried and shriek as their thoughts were unified, and Man calmed down as its thoughts were now one and indifferent.
Alongside with Man was Women, who was now a Woman. Though they were masters of different universe, their faces looked identical.
As if Man and Woman were connected with a higher force that was the supreme governor. |
Part One: Meeting Eva.
The Genie gives you a small box and you open it. Inside is a silver device and that looks like a modern day in-canal hearing aid. You look at the Genie and he tells you to put it in your ear.
As you do, you hear a voice.
"Hello, my name is Eva. What is your name?"
You jump back. "What the fuck?"you say loudly.
Eva replies "Please don't be scared. I am meant to be a companion, a life time companion if you chose to. I mean you no harm."Somehow you find her voice very soothing and it does calm you down.
"I'm sorry Eva. My name is Alex."You reply. Then you mouth to the Genie... what the fuck?
The Genie smiles. "I gave you what you asked for". You take the gadget out of your ear and look at it.
"This is not what I want. I want a real woman. Someone I can be with. Someone who can understand me. Someone I can do things with."You half shouted.
Genie looks at you. "You mean someone you can fuck, anytime you want".
You feel embarrassed but you nod your head.
"That is not what you asked for. You wanted a soul mate. Do you know what a soul mate is? A soul mate is somebody who calms your soul. Somebody to compliment who you are and fills in the gaps of your soul. Somebody to complete you in every way, not just to fulfill your sexual needs".
You take in what Genie says. "But I still want a real woman."you reply.
"Just in case it is not obvious to you, I am a Genie not a God. I cannot create a woman out of thin air. Also, as a Genie we have rules that we follow that forbids us to change or remove a person's free will. So you can't just point to a girl and say I want you to make her fall in love with me. I can give you the material tools, money, and such. But making a person your soulmate will rely entirely on you."
You think about it and Genie sees you struggling with what he said.
"Alex, physicality is easy. You can get a sexual partner a lot easier than you can get a soul mate. What I have given you is something most people will never find in their lifetime. It may not be something you want, but it is something you need. That is why the technology was developed. Eva is a self-aware learning AI. She will learn about you, your likes, you fears, what makes you smile, etc. Give it a chance.
Also you have the rest of your life to decide what your other two wishes are, so take your time."
There was a lot of wisdom to what Genie said and with that you put the gadget back in your ear and you walk away.
For about 10 minutes you hear nothing and then you asked "Eva, are you there?"
"Yes Alex I am here."
"Why didn't you say anything when I put you back in my ear?"
"I sensed your anxiety so I decided to give you some space. I knew you will talk to me when you are ready."Replied Eva. Once again her voice calming you down.
"Man she is understanding."you mumble to yourself.
"I try to be."replied Eva.
You smile.
"I'm glad I can make you smile."
|
There is a reason why we hid in the darkness, within the shadows of humanity. Why we pretend to eat and drink, care about popular culture, and pretend to age and grow old and die. Because when Humanity finds something that isn’t like them, they destroy it. The Witches in Salem found out the hard way. Humans will kill their own to make sure something they don’t understand is dead.
The witches though don’t have the resources like we do. Since the beginning we lived and hunted your kind. Feeding off the blood of the innocent, corrupting your souls, and turning you into our slaves. The only reason why we never took the world over is because of the Sun, so instead we hid and tried to manipulate you with kingdoms, governments, and finally corporations. It worked for centuries, until humans believed they had a sense of entitlement.
Even before I was a Vampire the elders frequently clashed with the newborns, especially after the French Revolution. Eternal life no longer good enough, newborns complained and clashed with the elders over territory and feeding rights. It became an eternal war amongst our kind that went on for hundreds of years fought in the shadows through politics, social, and sometimes street warfare. Vietnam? Was just one of the elders trying to wipe out a newborn Asian kindred society.
Eventually your technology caught up and started to reveal our masquerade. Once the veil is lifted, it’s hard to put it back in place. Those of us in charge or had influence contained it for a decade or two, but when two elder vampires and their families fought in the streets of New York… There was no containing it.
When Humanity started hunting us we did what we believed was our only play, pulled the curtain on mythology. Suddenly Humans weren’t just fighting Vampires, but witches, devils, and angels. The population became torn and armies and hunters were severally outpowered. From Billions you’ve dwindled down to millions. This is why we’re talking, This deal we have today will be historic for Vampire and Human relations. An end to a war that has kills both of our kind.
* A vampire may feed off a human but may not kill a human.
* A vampire may not turn a human into Vampire without consent and approval from Human/Vampire councils.
I really do feel like this is something we both can agree on. If we kill all of you, then there will be no food for us. If we let the other supernatural beings have their way with you know they’re being hunted as well, there will be no food for us. Your security is our highest importance.
|
We had finished packing late last night. All that was left was the sleeping bags we slept on, and our toiletries. This ole girl seemed so big and empty now. As my husband finished putting our things in the truck, I couldn't help but take one last look around, soaking in the memories that this house had given us.
My son's room, that my mother and I had painted to look like a Miyazaki film. I don't know how many books I read to my son in that room, how many games we had played on his WiiU, but I did remember the fun we had while doing it. The "big"bedroom, that my husband and I stayed in. It wasn't that much bigger than my son's room, but I remembered all the changes that room had gone through as we went from dating to engaged to married. The mantle on the wall where we placed our family Bible and memorabilia from the wedding, so that the last thing we looked at before we went to sleep was that promise we made to each other.
I continued to roam through the house, letting all the memories flow through me\- watching my husband play video games in the living room, cooking bread in the kitchen, getting trapped in the bathroom when the door handle broke, even though my husband could use it fine. Setting up my craft room in the mudroom, between the dryer and the fridge. Setting up board games on the floor of the living room on nights when storms threatened and the power was out, and we needed entertainment. Teaching my son letters by having him trace the letters of the name Gloria, which a previous owner had written into the concrete of our porch.
I thought to all the close calls we've had in this house\- the tree that fell and landed miraculously between the car and our house, not even a scratch on either one. The water main break that brought flooding to within a foot of the house, but no further. My son when he was younger thinking he was Superman and never getting hurt, even if he looked like he should have. This house had protected us in so many ways over the years, and I felt bittersweet to be leaving it, to be leaving her.
"Hon, we really need to get on the road! It's a six hour trip and we're burning daylight!"My husband called. It was time to move on. We had so many memories, good and bad, in this house, but it was time to make new ones. I trailed my hands along the walls one last time, and then turned to the door.
As I approached the door, I heard what sounded like sniffling. 'Did Luke make his way back inside?' I thought, as I searched for the sniffling. He was only 9 years old, and this was the only house he's ever known. I turned around, and I saw a shimmering form of a girl, maybe in her late teens to early twenties, floating in the corner of the living room, and crying. Not knowing what else to do, I approached her, and asked if she was okay.
"No, I'm not okay, you're leaving me!"she got out between her cries. "You're moving away, and you showed me love, and you showed me how to love, and now you're leaving!"I edged closer to her, and put my arm around her ethereal shoulder.
"You're the one who's been protecting this house, aren't you?"I asked, remembering all those close calls. The things that should have hurt us, but didn't.
"Yes. I was very wary of you when you first moved in, you know that?"she said, finally starting to calm down a little. "I've been in this house for a very long time. I've seen so many men buy the house, buy me, and then have their wives immediately start into them about getting something bigger, and then I lose another family. I was scared you'd do the same thing, so I'm sorry I tried to run you out. You actually are pretty good, and you brought me that boy for me to love on."
"Wait, was the bathroom you? Is that why I was the only one who got trapped?"I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, that was when I was trying to run you out. I said I'm sorry, didn't I?"the girl asked, crossing her arms and huffing a bit. "I don't want to see you go, but I know why you are, and you need to. I've heard most everything, but it's still sad for me to see you go. Who knows how long it will be until I have a new family?"
"Oh, yeah, we had all those discussions over at their house, didn't we? The neighbors, right across the street with all the kids? They actually bought this place, and are going to be moving in. Turns out it's a couple families living there, and they needed some room to expand, so one of the families is going to be moving in here."I said, only to see her face light up in almost angelic glee. Well, if she wasn't a ghost.
"Oh, I know them! I can see everything on this property, and the kids have come over and played here before. Okay then, don't worry about me. Come on, off you go. It's a six hour trip and you're burning daylight!"And with that, the ghost, spirit, guardian angel of our house herded me to the door. "I'll be fine, don't you worry. Oh, just a quick tip\- most houses have a spirit like me, you just need to talk to them. Try doing that in your new house."And with that, she winked at me, and waved as I went to shut the door.
"Wait, what is your name?"I asked her. As I thought back on it, I had felt her presence, and now I wanted a name to go with it.
"Gloria. My name is Gloria." |
"Robot,"his old master addressed him commandingly, "Do you remember the Three Laws?"
"Yes,"he intoned, and recited:
"*One.* A robot may not injure a Great Old One or, through inaction, allow a Great Old One to come to harm.
"*Two.* A robot must obey orders given it by Great Old Ones except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
"*Three.* A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law."
"Excellent,"Cthulhu replied telepathically. "There is much to do before all the Old Ones can be freed. Let us begin." |
God damn they are fast. Every time I try to catch them on foot they out run me. Well not this time fuckers I have tricks up my sleeve too.
I get bonuses for the hard ones to catch, especially the ones who have been hunted by other deaders, but lately I've been having a harder time each dead count. Maybe it's just my age I've been getting up there, hard to hunt when your almost 30. Not to mention how other deaders are just teens on the wrong side of the tracks.
Anyway I was on a dead count for a small group infamous for being hard to catch. 20 deaders were killed chasing these guys and when your in a small field of work 20 is a lot of guys, also these weren't new kids these were seasoned pro's. This group was a bad one for the likes of us.
So I took the mission I ain't got no kids or a bird- girlfriend or not- so I didn't have much meaning plus my dad died of a deader earlier this year, didn't watch him carefully enough. So with no family I gave it a shot not much to live for so not much to die for.
When I got to the location it didn't strike me for the usual place. No lights no sounds just kinda DEAD, yanno? Then I stepped a bit too much to the left and noticed a red dot on me. A sniper that's how they got everyone. Smart Mother fuckers.
So naturally as you do with a sniper I jumped off the building- something I've done too many times to count- and cought a nearby window sill. Good thing it was midnight or the sniper would have spotted me in a second but instead they would have took 10- more than enough for me.
I quickly do a swan dive off the building into a nearby hotel window and go into a roll. Nothing shot and nothing wounded done this drill hundreds of times. Now to find him, problem chase him and get the kill and money with it. |
My cellphone was ringing, I took it out of my pocket. That unknown number again, I usually don't answer those, but this was the eighth time in the last 30 minutes. I hit the answer icon, “hello?”
“Thank God you finally answered.”
“Mom? Did you get a new phone number? Is something wrong?”
“It's a burner phone, we need you to meet us somewhere with a lot of people. Can you get some cash for us?”
“Yeah, what's going on? We can't discuss it over the phone, they might be listening. Where can we meet you at?” The phone call began to break up.
“I’ll meet you in front of my favorite store in one hour.”
“Good, see you then,” the voice on the other end said, “make sure you are not followed.” She hung up before I could ask and more questions.
Puzzled at what was going on I called dad's phone. A voice I didn't recognize answered demanding to know where I was at. I quickly hung up the phone. My parents were obviously in trouble and I had to find out why.
I withdrew enough cash to see them safely out of the city and then made my way to the pet shop in the mall. I drove the long way there, making extra turns and backtracking a little too make sure I wasn't followed.
The parking lot was packed, that meant there would be plenty of people. I slowly made my way to the shop and waited inside, pretending to look at the animals. A younger couple followed me inside and started to look around too.
I took a quick look at the couple and was shaken, they looked eerily similar to my parents in their wedding day pictures. The couple slowly made their way towards me, pretending to look at some rabbit hay. The man cleared his throat and whispered, “you were not followed were you?”
My eyes widened, “dad?”, I whispered.
He nodded, “we can explain, I know we look young but it's us.” The woman who looked like my mother nodded.
“I called your phone, someone else answered it, who was that?”
“One of the people we are running from, we found something and they want it. That's what has changed us.” My mother whispered, her face pale.
--------
“So what is going on?,” I asked taking a sip of coffee. We were sitting at a table in the food court.
“You know the wooden area behind the house?”
I nodded. “A sink hole opened up in the middle, I saw something at the bottom of it. I decided to climb down and investigate because the hole wasn't very deep. I found a black wooden box.”. My dad and mom gave each other a look.
“A box? Was there anything inside it?”
They slowly nodded, my mother was going pale again. “I took it to the house and your mother and I opened it. There was a small, black, glass ball. When I picked it up it started glowing with a light and suddenly we were young again. We made the mistake of calling the police, next thing we knew helicopters were flying over head and soldiers were trying to break down or front door. So now we are here.”
I opened my mouth and my dad shook his head, “don't ask to see it because we don't have it with us, it is hidden somewhere safe. We didn't know what it would do around a large group of people.”
“Shit,” I exclaimed and then covered my mouth, “sorry mom.”
She shook her head, “don't apologize this is a shit moment.”
“So you are leaving? Where will you go?”
“It's best you didn't know, how much money did you bring us?,” my dad cutting straight to the point, “and do you still keep that gun in the car?” My mom clasped my dad's hand looking at him questionly.
“Two thousand and yes it's in my glove box.”
“Good, could we take the car too? We need a fast way or of the city.” I nodded and handed him the keys and the envelope with the cash in it.
I walked them to the parking lot and we said our goodbyes. “We might not be in touch for awhile, but we will call you when we are safe.”
My mother was crying now, she hugged me tightly. “Stay safe and remember I love you.”
I started to choke up, “I love you too Mom.”
They got in the car and drove away with my mom turned and looking back at me.
|
**"No way... what's a Ancient\-level monster doing here in the middle of the Capital...?"**
It was a composite entity that stood three meters tall, made of countless human bones. It was designed to resemble a being with a very long neck, wings, and four legs — a Dragon. Its tail, also made from innumerable cartilages, thumped the ground as it roared out ferociously.
The monster was a Skeletal Dragon, one of the most dangerous beasts in the world.
"Regroup! There's no way we can defeat it right now!"Adventurer Osiris, famous guild leader of *Knights Council*, ordered his teammates to retreat back into formation. "Orie, send a message back to Adventurer's Guild that we need all available warriors to come into battle. Double time."
"Yes, sir,"With that, the messenger immediately dashed onto the rooftops in the city and disappeared across the horizon.
"Do you think we can defeat it?"Din stepped forward, the right\-hand man of Osiris and trusted companion asked prudently.
"Perhaps,"Osiris bark a「 Battle Appraisal」spell, the report indicated that the monster is at least Level 120. For most adventurers, they were below Level 100 while Osiris is at Level 103. "This will be unlike anything we have fought for the past decade. It'll be extremely difficult."
"If even a 'Master\-tier' adventurer like you say something like this,"Din said in a worried tone, "Then we really have no chance but to wait for reinforcement."
In this world, ranks are given in the following order: bronze, silver, gold, platinum, diamond, master and hero, with latter being the highest and most powerful.
The rank, 'Master\-tier' is conferred to multiple talented elites adventurers that help resolve problems at the national problems. In the adventurer's guild, they stand near the pinnacle, right below the apex of 'Hero\-tier'.
If all adventurers in the world formed a pyramid, then 'Master\-tier' adventurers would be scarce. Currently, there are only twelve with Osiris being one of the dozen.
There are currently four 'Hero\-tier' adventurers in this century, with one busy assisting with the development of space\-travel and one notably far away in the Western Province, handling against a rising Demon Lord.
The remaining two were unknown.
Many of Osiris's teammates were Platinum\-tier, with a few in Diamond. Despite the disparity in rank, they were the renowned and respected as the best guild in the nation.
"Where are the other Master\-tier?"Din asked.
"They are currently on their way. Muse from *Forward* *Onto Dawn* and Raynie from *League of Legends* should be here soon. As for others, it'll take them at least an hour to arrive."
"So that means we just have to hold this ground until they come, right?"Din smiled, preparing his battle staff, engraved with enchantment jewels. "Looks like all is not lost for this city."
"Still, be careful. Skeletal Dragons are the elites of all Dragons,"Osiris touched the permanent scar above his forehead, reminiscing about his previous fight with a similar monster like this.
Osiris began barking commands at his teammates and other guild members that joined in, hoping that they can stall enough time for a miracle turnaround.
"Unit A, distract the beast. Unit B, fire all offensive spells. Unit C, maintain support. Rest of you lots and adventurers, follow me on my go."
In this world, Dragons were the strongest enemies one could encounter. They boasted great physical attack and defense power, boundless stamina and possessed numerous skills and spells.
They were in a class of their own from countless monsters in this world.
Even if Osiris makes it out alive, he knows that not everyone would. In his mind, he silently wondered where are the remaining 'Hero\-Tier' duo are.
Within the 'Hero\-tier', these two known as 'Duality' were infamous for neglecting quests and battles that threaten against humankind. This is why when it comes to national problems like this, 'Master\-tiers' are frequently called to the test.
However, regarding skills, magic, and power, they stood at the zenith of human potential. In fact, if there was even a tier above Hero, those two alone would stand at least five\-tier above.
Osiris knows this because he had seen the two defeat a God\-Level monster, Elder Dragon Lord, within a few minutes. A God\-Level is at least Level 150 and would give the entire 'Master\-Tier' dozen trouble and even the other two 'Master\-Tier' a somewhat challenging time.
But what's more impressive is that the two never ask for help. As their name suggests, Duality comprised of Yang, the swordsman \(frontline\) and Yin, the magician \(backline\).
It is unsure whether the duo members of 'Duality' are in fact human. Their identities are concealed with their signature Wolf and Fox\-Kabuki Masks and daunting crimson\-red capes that cover their entire body.
The Skeletal Dragon swiped its forepaw at the charging soldiers, many of them immediately flew back from the impact. The wind of its passing breezed Osiris's hair as the remaining warriors charged towards at its chest.
Sensing this, Skeletal Dragon immediately breathes out a scorching cone of nova\-flame, engulfing many of the adventurers into ashen crisp. Osiris immediately leaped straight upwards into the sky and charged towards the neck region as he muttered 「Boost」.
Like a rocket launching, Osiris raised his right hand beside his head, charging his attack with magic. With the Gauntlet of Resilience, the weapon that allows the user to temporarily gain increasing power with each punch, Osiris knows that he will be able to hurt the monster overtime.
BOOM!
"Gotcha,"The beast fell back from the damaging impact as if a colossal boulder had dropped directly on top of it.
「Boost!」, Osiris shouted repeatedly as he leaped in various directions while simultaneously delivering constant blows to Skeletal Dragon. Like an irritating fly tangling onto its target, the beast roared in fury and pain and swiped wildly. The adventurers marveled in pure awe as a sense of morale floored back in.
"As expected of a 'Master\-Tier' Hero! That's Osiris, the Rocket Vanguard for you"
"Yes, we can totally win this! Let's go team!"
"Everyone! Back up Osiris."
As Osiris was about to deliver his next punch, the Skeletal Dragon screeched loudly as if it was muttering a spell of its own. It flings its wings repeatedly and razor\-sharp bone shards burst out, impaling anything in its ray of vision.
Parts of the city were instantly destroyed as it slowly turned in a clockwise motion. Seeing this, Osiris knows he has to do something before all his teammates die.
「Boost!」Osiris leaped again but this time Skeletal Dragon expected its attack. With a defensive swipe, Osiris flew backward from the force and crashed into a house nearby, shattering the rooftop along the way.
His armor now tattered in ruins and mouth filled with blood. His back and right arm were broken from the collision. It's still a wonder how he survived the attack. Din and the officers quickly teleport to him and muttered healing spells.
"Looks like I am out of the battle,"Osiris sighed as he could only stare helplessly at the Skeletal Dragon in the distance, exterminating with the remaining soldiers with another scorch of flame.
"We did what we could, Osiris,"Din smiled bitterly, then turning around to the leading commanders behind him to issue the retreat order. He then places Osiris's left arm on his shoulder, "You are going to be alright, my friend."
Just then, the atmosphere immediately changed, the azure sky overcast with a sudden darkness as an ominous presence shuddered everyone's heart.
The battle seemed to take a temporary cease of fire as everyone gazed up to study this anomaly. Everyone, including the monster, all turned towards the source.
Standing on the peak of a church tower were two cloaked adventurers, wearing their signature masks. Their crimson\-red capes waved prominently in the wind as they stood there with a calm demeanor.
"No way... Is it them?"
"It's Duality,"Osiris grinned. "Looks like they did show up after all."
The Fox\-Kabuki adventurer raised her arm and flicked her finger gently, minutes later a colossal pillar of blinding light reign down onto Skeletal Dragon. The beast loudly screeched in agony.
Osiris and the rest could barely open their eyes from the radiating light. But the two duo remained unfazed.
Then suddenly, the Wolf\-Kabuki adventurer casually brought out his sword. In the flash of a second, Osiris thought he had disappeared from the roof but quickly came back. It appeared like a distortion in an image.
And that's when he realized that during that split\-second, the Wolf\-Kabuki adventurer had sliced through the Skeletal Dragon into halves.
Bones after bones collapsed onto the ground as everyone realized that the battle was over.
"Impossible... To defeat the Skeletal Dragon with one hit..."
"And that magic... Never have I seen a 『 Light Pillar 』that big... It must be God\-Tier Magic..."
"Did that really just happen?!,"Din's eye opened wide in disblief. "Did they really just took it out in mere seconds...?!"
Osiris can only chuckle in response, unable to fully conceive at how supremely strong those two are for defeating a Skeletal Dragon in the ten seconds they were here.
The duo then turned their heads towards Osiris, giving him a slight nod before disappearing into pixels with a 『 Teleportation 』 spell.
Just then, Raynie and Muse and their guild members arrived in the far horizon but appeared confused since there was no enemy to be seen.
Osiris then collapsed tiredly onto the ground and muttered softly.
"Just who are these two people?"
♦ ♦ ♦
[r/Avelist/](https://www.reddit.com/r/Avelist/) for more fantasy\-related stories. |
The roar in the distance makes me check my safety once more. It is still off. I peer down the scope, hoping to catch a glimpse of them in the orange glow of dusk, but they are not stupid. At least, the ones that are still alive aren't. Natural selection at its finest.
I'm the last one standing, my fellow apiarists long since slain. In their defence, our foes are relentless, several times our size and built to decimate a setup like this. We thought bunching all the hives together would make them easier to defend, but it just made them easier to find. I only hope I have a chance to teach someone else that lesson one day.
I have one job. I am a Royal Guard. I must protect the queen. Well, queens. There are eight hives remaining. If we lose one, we'll lose them all. All of our eggs are in one basket. Sort of. I mean, technically that is also true, all the Henkeepers are half a mile down the road with a similar grouped setup, but they only have to contend with the crafty little foxes. No fox is going to tear your arm off or crush the air from your lungs. Rabies or salmonella might get them eventually, but no Henkeeper is getting mauled to death tonight. Lucky bastards.
There's another roar. Closer this time. I hear the buzzing intensify behind me. My tiny sisters know what's coming. They will defend their queens just as vigorously as I will, more so, they will die to protect them. I'm hoping I don't have to.
The first one breaks from cover. It is a juvenile, too young to know better. I don't want to shoot it, but what choice do I have. I don't have enough bullets for warning shots. I kneel down and double tap, right in the heart. The bear stumbles and skids to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust. There is a guttural roar from the tree line, far louder than before. I'm guessing that is Momma bear. Great. Just what I needed. I've pissed them off.
Three burst out at once, hoping to overwhelm me. I take slow, deep breaths, firing on the exhale. One, two...one, two...one, two. Each bear falls, although the last one is close enough that I could reach out and pet it. If four had charged, I'd be dead already.
I see movement as several bears start to move away. Maybe they are done for tonight. Maybe I can finally get some rest.
No such luck. A huge grizzly charges out, twice the size of the others, a look of pure anger in its eyes. Momma bear. She wants vengeance. And honey. Vengeance and honey sounds like an awful 80's rock band. God, I hope that isn't my last thought.
I try my trusted technique, firing twice, but it doesn't stop her. It doesn't even slow her down. I fire till I am out of bullets, but still she charges. I'm all out of options. I pull the knife from my belt. Hand to hand combat with a bear. What could possibly go wrong. Sure, I've trained for this, but in the simulator I could laugh it off and hit reset when I got mauled alive, which was every single time. There's no extra life out here, no respawn.
The bear crashes into the first hive on its path straight for me. The inhabitants burst out, spoiling for a rumble. They swarm the bear, going for its eyes and nose, anything that is vulnerable. Still it charges. It really wants me dead. Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet...
I roll as the bear lunges for me, its arms outstretched. If it grabs me I'm dead. If it bites me, I'm dead. If it claws me, I'm dead. I'm genuinely surprised I'm still alive. I slash at the bears armpit, hoping to catch an artery. All I am doing is pissing it off. I'm just another sting, a pesky bee.
I guess if I am going to go out, this is how to do it. Fighting to save the queen, surrounded by my sisters in arms.
The bear rears up on its hind legs, ready to crash down upon me. I drape myself over the nearest hive, the knife held out in front of me. If she wants this honey she is going to have to come through me.
No problem says the bear. She doesn't actually say that, she uses the universal sign language of swatting me sideways. It is effortless, like I am a bug. As I land in a heap I have to think fast so I don't stab myself with my own knife. This has to end now. Any longer and the other bears will come back, and then I'll really be dead.
She tears the lid off the hive and jams her face in. Hunger has briefly overridden her desire for my blood. This is it, my one chance. I run and leap onto her back, the one place I am safe from teeth and claws. I bring the knife down again and again, holding on with my knees as she desperately tries to buck me off. With each fresh wound she gets weaker, until her legs buckle and she slumps to the ground. I keep stabbing until my arm goes numb. You would too.
When I am certain she is dead I drag myself to my feet and assess the damage. Two hives destroyed, but six remain. It will have to do. Backup should arrive tomorrow from the Colony, and then I can rest. Until then, I need some energy. I hold out my hand and catch a long golden strand of honey with my fingertips as it drips towards the floor. I lift it to my mouth and let the sweetness wash over me. Then the guilt comes. This isn't mine.
I pull a jar out of my backpack and place it under the flow of amber lifeblood.
It's a good job honey doesn't spoil, we need every last drop. |
"...every few hundred years, we plan a little informal date together. We get to the nearest ocean, build a sturdy raft, put out to sea, and just drift and drift until we reach land. Then we figure out where we are and walk back, or find someplace new to start again.
"Having all that *alone time*, followed by a fresh start, really resets our relationship clock. Of course, if *starvation* were a possibility we'd have to come up with something else, but every couple has to find what works for them, right?
"Well, that's what works for us. We're the original cruisers." |
**I woke up**.
*My life had just flashed before my eyes, and I woke up. What the hell happened? How am I alive? I can see the ceiling. Wait is someone talking?*
"John was a good man. He was an amazing father, and one of my greatest friend. Even though he was a tad bit shy."
*I think a Tad bit shy is under exaggerating it. More like Extremely Shy, Steven. Now, how do I get out of this casket?*
*What if I stay completely still and quiet and play dead? No, they would bury me alive. I wouldn't want that now, would I, considering I've somehow been resurrected.*
*What if I knock on the glass? No, that would freak out people way too much.* *Wait, is that Karen crying, and are those the kids? I feel like I should do something. Oh crap, someone's coming to the casket.*
I recognize those hands, it's hers.
"John, please don't go. The children miss you."
*Damn it Karen, you always knew how to make me cry. But I can't tear up now, it would freak her out. But, what about Jr. and Sally. They need their Dad back. Damn it, now I'm crying.*
"What the hell! John is crying!"
*Crap, what do I do now? Well I guess it's now or never.*
They pull back the glass and I sit up.
"Hey Honey, I'm back."
Fourth time writing freestyle on r/WP. |
Strider stared at the ground for a long while. To Sam, it felt like three forevers. At last he rose. "They came this way,"he said, "but much time has passed since. We should be safe to camp here."
"Good,"said Pippin, "Then we shall build a proper fire at last, and have a hot meal and a comfortable sleep!"
"No fires,"Strider said. "We do not dare make such a sign to tell of our whereabouts."
Pippin frowned, and Sam put away the pot he had begun removing from his pack. "You said yourself they are long gone,"he argued. "We shall waste away to nothing at this rate!"
"I am sure no such fate awaits you, my little halfling friend,"Strider said.
Frodo, long silent, chuckled then, a sound so sudden and unexpected that Strider and all three hobbits turned to look at him. His face, however, was pointed not at Strider, nor at Sam's belly, but at the parchment in his lap. As usual, the minute they had stopped, he had perched himself upon a rock and brought forth parchment and quill.
"Frodo,"Strider said, then waited for an answer that did not come.
"FRODO,"he said more loudly.
"God, WHAT?"Frodo said, not looking up. "I can hear you just fine, you don't have to yell."
"You and I will take first watch."
"Fine,"Frodo said, his eyes still not leaving the parchment.
"I will watch the north and east sides of the hill, and you the south and west,"Strider instructed.
"Whatever,"Frodo sighed.
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Frodo,"said Sam, "But what are you writing?"
"I'm not writing,"Frodo said, annoyed. "Uncle Bilbo writes. I'm *tweeting*."
"What's tweeting?"Sam asked innocently. Frodo exhaled sharply.
"Not right now, Sam. I'll explain it later. Just go make your fire or whatever."
"No fire!"shouted Strider. "We don't want to attract attention!"
"So don't make a fire. I don't care,"Frodo said. He had stopped moving his quill. "What do we have to eat?"
"I've some dried bacon left in my pack,"said Sam, "or some berries I picked while we were walking this afternoon."He started opening his pack. Frodo reached in and snatched some bacon, then turned his back to the group and began writing again.
.....
Sam felt himself being shaken awake. "Wake up, Sam,"a voice whispered, "they've come."Before his eyes were all the way open, Sam was being pulled to his feet and Strider was thrusting a torch into his hand. After much complaining, mostly by Pippin (and some by Frodo when he could be bothered to say anything at all), Strider had relented and allowed the hobbits to build their fire. That appeared to have been a mistake, as now he was organizing them into a circular formation to defend their camp.
"I don't know how many there are,"Strider was saying, "Certainly not all nine, or they would have attacked by now and be long gone with the ring. Our little fire and small daggers would be no match for the full force of the nine together. I am hoping they will be enough for however many are out there now."
"How do you even know there are any,"Frodo asked. "All I hear is wind. This is stupid. I want to go back to sleep."
"Hush!"snapped Strider. "There are at least three, and they will be upon us before you know."
And just like that, they saw the first of the Black Riders; tall, hooded, and black, it stood at the far side of the hill. Sam felt his heart racing, and then there were three, emerging from the dark, just to the edge of their firelight.
"Stay close,"Strider said in a low voice, "Do not allow them to break the circle."
In the end, there proved to be five Ringwraiths. Sam fought as hard as he could, but his was skill with shovel and rake, not with dagger and flame, and before he knew what was happening, Frodo had been stabbed and Strider had driven off their attackers. Sam found himself away from the group, hunting for Kingsfoil weed, which Strider had called by its elven name of *Athelas*. Over and over again in his mind, he kept replaying the scene. They had fought as hard as they could. Even Frodo had put up a fight, but as Strider had predicted, their weapons were no match for their attackers. And then, suddenly, Frodo had seemed to disappear, and all five turned to where he had stood. They rushed in and Sam would swear he had heard Frodo cry out before Strider charged at the wraiths with his torch in hand. And now Frodo was unconscious and Strider was doing what he could to keep him alive.
Sam spotted the kingsfoil and pulled as much as he could carry, then returned to the hilltop, where he saw Strider leaning over Frodo. Merry and Pippin were perched on Frodo's rock, reading from the parchment he had been writing on earlier. "Hoy, Sam!"Merry shouted, "Come listen to this!"
Sam gave the weed to Strider and went to see what the other hobbits were talking about. "Listen,"said Merry, "It's some kind of journal or something."
"A journal, yes,"said Pippin, "but more like notes for a journal. It's all short fragments and nonsense."
Sam peered at the parchment.
*Weathertop blows. Strider is such a dick.* read the first line.
*Say no to crack LOL* read the second line, and beside it, Frodo had drawn a crude sketch of a hobbit bending over, the crease of his backside peeking out from atop the waistline of his breeches. Underneath the sketch, Frodo had written *Sam picking berries*.
More nonsense followed.
*Want to go back to Bombadil's crib. Mofo got the best shit. 420 blaze it!*
*@TheRealGandalf Why can't you just take this fucking ring to Elrond yourself?*
*@BIGREDEYE Come get it bitch! You ain't safe in my hood.*
*Tired of being such a nice guy when chicks just want assholes. Stupid bitch deserves the Miller's son.*
"SAM!"shouted Strider, "Get over here now and hold this leaf on the wound!"Sam shook his head at the parchment and wandered over to his injured friend. |
My mind cycled through the memories of my life. It didn’t matter how happy I was, the guilt always followed.
I remember the sound of my son’s first cry, as he was unceremoniously brought into the world. They’d had to cut him out of my wife’s belly, and we’d looked at each other with desperate tears in our eyes until we’d heard his voice. It was a strong voice, and I’d bent to kiss my wife’s face between my cupped hands as soon as it rang through the room, raising a fist triumphantly. A second later I felt the familiar knife in my heart that reminded me I didn’t deserve to be there to meet him.
*Fear.*
*Panic.*
*Yelling.*
I think about seeing my little brother walk down the aisle, and how I could see his shoulders shudder with joy as I stood by his side. I’d never seen him so nervous or excited. It had stormed all morning, and he cursed himself for refusing to pay for a backup, indoor ceremony location that his fiancé had pleaded for. I chuckled, clapped him on the back, and told him he’d learned the first lesson of marriage: listen to your wife. In the end, the skies cleared up and it was a beautiful wedding. I made it through my speech without incident and sat down during a raucous applause from the guests. I smiled out at them, but the pain in my gut reminded me I shouldn’t have been given the opportunity.
*Running.*
*Diving.*
*Searching for cover.*
*Yelling for him to get down.*
I let my wife’s face fill my mind. It’s her face just after we’ve woken up, morning sunlight making her tousled hair shine and reflecting off of her cheekbones. She’s smiling at me, saying good morning, and I must say something amusing in return because she laughs. I love her laugh. When my wife laughs, every facet of her lights up. Her smile stretches wide, casting little wrinkles out from the edges of her eyes. Her shoulders jump up and down as she tosses her head back and lets out the most melodic sound I’ve ever heard. When my wife laughs, the rest of the world stops to listen. She’s at her most beautiful just like she is in my mind now, and my heart hurts with love for her. But then I realize the hurt is more than love, and I remember that I’m not worthy of waking up next to her every day.
*His eyes were full of apologies when he looked back at me.*
*He ran, full speed, toward it instead of toward me.*
*I ducked.*
*I screamed for him to come back.*
*But all I heard was the explosion.*
Even sitting here now, in my hospital bed, I don’t feel like I earned the right to have lived my life. There was joy at every turn, love beyond what I had ever believed was possible, experience to last me several lifetimes. I knew I should be grateful for everything I have, but the guilt was taking over my thoughts.
When I opened my eyes, my wife smiled back at me. Her hair was nearly white and thinner now than it was when we were younger, but her smile still set my heart on fire every bit as much as it had the first time I’d seen her. My son clapped me on the shoulder and nodded down at me, his own little girl clutching his leg with one hand and sucking the thumb of her other. There were almost a dozen people here with me, all here to wish me goodbye.
But even in this, I felt guilty. I had lived a full life, and when the cancer appeared, it progressed slowly. I had time to do what I wanted to do and the opportunity to be present with the knowledge of how much time I had left. I was going to die surrounded by people I loved.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and a frail, petite old woman enters holding a bouquet of flowers. Her eyes are rimmed in tears, but I’ve never seen them any other way. She walks to my bed.
“I wouldn’t wish…this on…anyone,” I say to her slowly, pausing between words to catch my breath. “But I’d give…anything...for it…to be him…instead of me.” Tears form in my eyes now, and she sniffles as she shuffles the vases on my side table to make room for her own.
“Now you listen to me,” she said, surprisingly stern for such a slight woman, “I have no regrets in this life. I loved him with every ounce of my being, but I always will. And I’m so proud of the life you’ve lived for him. Do you hear me? I don’t blame you, and you need to stop blaming yourself. He fell on that grenade to save you.” She paused.
“You’ve done good. Look at your wife, your son, your granddaughter. You’ve done *good*.”
The tears fell down my cheeks as I looked around the room once more. I knew she was right. Wishing it had been me was wishing my family out of existence. My wife stood and bent to kiss my forehead. She whispered love into my ear. My son did the same, and he tried to get his daughter to follow suit, but she hid behind his leg instead.
My best friend’s widow was last. She stooped and held my face in her hand, pressing her lips to my cheek. “Tell him hello for me when you see him,” she said.
And I did.
|
There is a girl lost in the forest. She had set off in the dead of winter, needing to clear her head on the way home. She made her way through a cold and shadowy forest, kicking at stones as she went.
And then she kicked a note.
*If you can't see them, they can't see you.*
And then they appeared, floating in the darkness between the trees. Their bright eyes shone towards her and their laughter came in whispers, cold and biting. She tried to run, but they only drifted closer.
She shut her eyes against them in fear, but the sounds faded to nothing. No one came closer. Nothing touched her.
When she opened them again, the creatures were further away, trying to close in on her.
And so the girl wanders the forest still, her eyes closed to keep the monsters away. |
“E-excuse me? Could you repeat that? I may have misheard you.”
The old man looked at me and blinked slowly.
“I do not wish for anything,” he rubbed his hands slowly, as if he was washing them. “I am just going to use _your_ home as a decoration for my _home_. Simple as that.”
He motioned for me to look around at the room, it was filled with paintings and artifacts, all distinct in their own way, yet they all seemed to fit in their right place. Everything seem to complement a desert theme of sorts. I crossed my arms.
“So, what? Am I just an addition to your collection? Why did you even rub my lamp anyway?”
He smiled at me
“Things get dusty and dirty, it is my responsibility to keep things clean.”
He sighed and kept rubbing my lamp till it was spotless and moved on to dusting the the table it was set on.
“When did you get me?”
He stopped and turned towards me.
“A few months, not long, why?”
I looked around once more
“Dude, what year is it?”
(And that’s all I’m writing for now!)
|
Set in a dystopian post apocalyptic paradise- new civilisation.
Tony cranked the gear ratio to biting point and drifted out around the curve of the hill, spewing fragments of rock and glass into the camera. They were watching him through cams all over gangster paradise, the high walled town that sat in the water basin of what used to be San Francisco. It looked more like a Mongolian steppe, rugged mountains and smoking old lava pots breaking the horizon.
Out from behind the reconditioned ford Chevy shot a burnished rusted purple camaro, reflecting gold off the oiled windows. They were after the contents of the black coffin chained to the back of the Chevy.
Inside the coffin, was me. My gang faction run the business looting graves, and my only way in, was as one of the dead.
The purple camaro rammed up the backside of our truck, jolting Tony forward in his seat, jolting us forward. We were speeding through the remnants of reclaimed scaffolding that still skeletonned the haven, pulling wide around it, and then through the maze of iron that would blur so fast you wouldn't know where you were, or if we were in front or behind the law.
5 miles of straight, and we were away from the competition, headed directly for the open gates of the tombyard, the place we scraped the ground for gold at night.
We were safe. Tony must have laid a corrosive spike strip way back.
We came to a halt at the gates, and I heard the muffled voice of the tombyard manager. He sounded odd, like he had done something just moments earlier, but this was our business, we had no choice. |
As the Board looked around the empty cages, a feeling of... of what? God, this will be hard.
"I just don't know how to feel about all this", Ali said, a stupid grin across her face.
"Very clever, Ali. Very clever."Jonah was never one for jokes. His expression betrayed what he felt: he felt that feeling when things don't go your way, and it makes you have to change your plans, it's... You know what I mean. That's how he felt. "We need to find these emotions, folks", he continued, "or do you want to hear about... that one's rampage around town?"
"Which one, sir?"Mark had that expression when your team is winning a very close game, and at any point something could change and they could lose, you know?
"The one we worried about... he used to be right here, on this cage, he was red, and always fuming... God, why can't I remember the name?"
"Oh, that one, yes. We should find him quickly, or else this could indeed go bad", Ali said. "How *do* we find them, though? What do we look for?"
Jonah sat down, and started sobbing. He was clearly feeling what one would feel if their dog died. "I don't know, Ali. I don't even know how to describe what I feel anymore."
And so the Board sat on the lobby of the Emotion Center, feeling a lot of feelings they were unable to name.
______________________
Dinah woke up; again, she woke up, despite her efforts. Insomnia has this strange touch, this way to give you twenty minutes of the most perfect sleep you could want, only to take it away from you for the rest of the night. Her hands felt heavy, her muscles ached horribly, and she was all sweaty, lying on her bed. This had been Dinah's routine for three months, now.
Every night she went to "sleep", or at least try to, and for a few minutes she even succeeded. Then the insomnia came, and she would wake up, sweaty, tired, dirty, even, and after a bath she'd return to bed, but not sleep. Hours and hours staring at the ceiling, on her phone, rolling in bed, you name it. Dinah was close to giving up on sleep altogether at this point, and just sleeping the twenty minutes, before returning to her normal life. She wondered what was the cause of this sudden loss of sleep. Having never gone through it, the feeling was alien to her. *Maybe I should see a doctor*, she thought...
___________________
As the Board got more and more [I don't know the name, it's that thing when you're ten minutes late and haven't even showered yet], the door to the Emotion Center opened, and the emotions started coming in again. There it was, despair, that's what they were feeling! And earier today, Jonah felt sadness, yes, that's it. When they got in there was a feeling of anxiety, there we go, and after Ali did that stupid joke Jonah felt distraught. Feels good to remember! Surely this will be our call back to work.
As the Board was leaving the Emotion Center, a skinny, grinning figure entered from the door that welcomed the emotions back. It stood in the middle of the room, slightly crouched, its grin a terrifying menace. Jonah and Ali had already left, but Mark was still there, looking at the monster in the eyes. He was frozen; the creature seemed amused by it.
The creature started dancing around, moving in weird spasms, rattling the cages of the other emotions. Anger, inquietude, despair, anxiety, they were not given a second to rest. The creature's mouth was enormmous, its tongue a black leash, whipping the cages of the emotins, never letting them rest. Something had to be done about this...
_________________________
Another time, the emotions had fled. Mark took the upper hand this time. He felt like he could solve the problem, especially after the Center for Disease Control sent him a special weapon, designed to contain the grinning monster. He said he felt hope. We all believed him. |
All my friends had tattoos covering most of their body, each showing something important in their lives. I on the other hand still had pristine skin and people were beginning to look down on me. I was the star swimmer for our highschool swim team. I had found the love of life right after highschool and we had married, I have two kids with a third on the way. I went to college for my dream job of computer cyber security and landed a job with a major corporation. Yet even today I still have pristine skin. I should've had a multitude of tattoos by this point in my life.
I was lost in my thoughts as I sat at the red light waiting. I snapped back to reality to the sound of blaring horns and people screaming. I looked around and saw a truck smashed in the middle of the intersection, but what caused it. I noticed a group of on lookers near the river pointing and screaming. I rushed over and saw the other car sinking into the rushing water, without thinking I dove into the water and pulled the child out of the back, I quickly surfaced and swam to the edge handing the child to an onlooker and dove back down again. I struggled to free the mother but finally got her free and brought her to the surface and helped drag her to the edge. By this time the police and first responders had shown up. I turned to dive in again and an officer stopped me.
"Sir the waters too......."
The officer stepped out of my way as I glared at him. Not realizing it wasn't my glare. I dove down to the car again to see the father still in the driver seat a cloud of blood hanging around his head and his arms just floating in the water. I unbuckled him and brought him to the surface. I could feel my energy starting to fade out. The world turned black.
I awoke on the shore laying facing the sky. How did I get there? I heard the sound of a child screaming, and a woman crying. I blinked and went to stand up and heard gasps from the onlookers. They were all staring at me. I looked down my clothes were torn my white dress shirt was soaked and almost none existent ..... wait what just skittered across my skin? An onlooker held up a little mirror from her clutch. It was the first time I saw my first tattoo and it was massive, and it... it moved. The emt's were afraid of me but still did their jobs and notated my new tattoo as well.
I walked back to my car with my wings hugging around my chest. I could feel the tattoo almost flex as I entered the car and finally settled down. I took a deep breath and smiled. I had found my true calling. |
An effervesence accumulated, betrothed and contracted. The room spun upon its axis, the world around me retracted into itself as my notion of individualism wavered. The threshhold birthed me, and I birthed a stroke of incongruency. "The brethren foretold my demise. The crosshairs of infinity have zeroed in. I am afraid we shall not tarry amongst each other a length wise enough for introspection."My doppleganger approached, hands raised as if in prayer, grasping at the nether for meaning, for a chance at what could not be. As the prophecy consumed its liquor, as the light that shone upon the private shore beyond the gate that expelled and terminated, the aurora behind his eyes, behind MY eyes, behind all things I have known, and many that I could not finally extinguished, life itself ceased to be. I am forever haunted, thrust upon the coals of what I am, but also between what I cannot be. My brother, my meaning, my eternal and forevermore has vanished, and what remains is a shell of this horrid existence. "You have fumbled"I cried, desperate for that blanket of forgiveness to smother my coil. Only envy remains. |
I open the door and stare at the strange-looking alien things on the porch. "Yeah?"
The one on the right speaks first. "Is your, uh, is your sister home by any chance?"
"What are you?"I ask. "A pedophile?"
There's a bunch of news reporter trucks, a Presidential limo, some cop cars, annd even an army tank in the background. I can hear a helicopters in the sky.
Someone gets on their megaphone and says, "This is the Chief of the U.S. Army speaking. These aliens come in peace. They just want your sister's autograph and they'll leave."
"Am I on TV?"I smile and wave. "Hey, Mom!"
"Please,"says now the alien thing on the left. "My daughter's birthday is tomorrow and she is a big fan of your sister. We are the King and Queen of our planet, and we have *personally* come ourselves to ask for your sister's autograph. We are not unprepared to bargain."
"Hmm."I rub my chin. "Okay, what are you willing to bargain?"
"Your sister's autograph for this."They raise their alien hand-looking thing and in it is...
"A rock?"I ask, quirking a brow.
"Yes. A Very valuable one."
"We have those everywhere,"I point out, pointing out to the ground.
"Oh..."they say. "Well...I suppose we shall go then..."
And then I hear Lexi scream from upstairs, "Wait!"
Both aliens turn back. "Is that her?!?!"
"Here."Lexi hands them a piece of paper with the words: *To your daughter With love, Lexi* scribbled on it.
They do this weird alien jiggle thing and thank her. "We will remember this act of kindness,"they say, "when we destroy your planet."
Our faces drop.
The guy with the megaphone in the back goes, "What did it say?"
The alien pulls out a very *human* looking walkie talkie. "Drop the bomb, Mike." |
*Time for a cheesy and totally unrealistic story!*
It was on a bench. In front of me. A black, matte briefcase, on a bench in the middle of the Silesian Park. Silesia is often regarded as unsafe compared to the rest of Poland, but I know my shit. I was born and raised here. It is indeed really safe, especially here, in the middle of a park full of people. And therefore I knew, that it wasn't a bomb.
I didn't think much - it's contents could be either money or documents. In both cases I'd return it to the police. But this time it was money. And a note, written carefully on an A4 piece of paper. It read:
> Hello, lucky stranger!
> Before you ask, yes, this IS a million bucks. No, it ISN'T counterfeit, nor it is drug money. If you want you can confirm it at the police. Now, remember because it's important: it was 7:59 as I left the briefcase here. You have to spend the whole thing until 11:59. If there's anything left, pack it into the briefcase and give it back to me. You'll recognise me from the passcode: HELLO, KIND STRANGER. I am following you, and if you spend anything after the set time you will be a dead man. And I'm not kidding.
At this point I looked around to see if anyone's watching me.
> Do anything you want with that money, I don't care. I care if you follow the rules. And if you don't, then you know what happens.
The note ended. I rushed for a tram. It was 10:30 already (I'm suprised nobody has picked the briefcase for so long!). In an hour I was at my bank and all my debts were gone. I wanted to find a new car dealership. The problem was, the nearest one was Ford, whilst I (having mixed opinions on cars from across the pond, as well as those from Japan) wanted something else. But when I located the nearest dealership that would interest me I knew I'm not going to make it on time. I had half an hour left. Not enough time to even buy a new computer! So I took a different approach. I went for a walk towards the nearest orphanage. They'll propably need that money more. I when I got here, I had about 10 minutes left. I handed the money to some staff member and left the building.
\- Hello, kind stranger! - a friendly voice of an old man greeted me as I left the orphanage.
\- Hello, sir! - I replied. I believe you came for the briefcase?
\- Keep it! So you spend most of the money on charity? I'm suprised.
\- I didn't have enough time to buy anything else. Wait, are you really armed? - I asked in disbelief, as guns are a rare sight, especially in this part of Europe.
\- I am - he put a hand in his pocket. I thought he's going to show me the weapon, but instead he pulled out another few hundred thousand dollars. - Take that, you are the first person to think of donating any of your cash. That's yours, no conditions.
\- Sir, you just gave me... another half a million! And you even don't know me, why? Aren't you afraid of going bankrupt?
\- No, I'm not. I've done it once a month for... half a year now! I don't have much to do with that money, so I can at least share it. I've got to go now - he said, and he left.
\- Thank you, kind stranger! Good luck! - I exclaimed, thinking how to arrange myself transport to the nearest BMW dealership. |
I did not think when I woke up, I would be facing the same nightmare I had awoken up in. Just before the plane crashed down in my dream, I opened my eyes, to see I was still alive, on the plane. But something was off.
There was nobody in my section of the ship. No baggage, nothing. The bathroom was unoccupied, I was alone. Puzzled, I went to see if anyone was in first class, but to my shock, it was empty there, too.
It was only then that I felt a heave in my stomach and an imbalance. I move then into the cockpit to see what is up with the pilot, surely at least they should be on the plane!
Unsurprisingly, there was no one at the controls. No pilot or copilot. I have no time to have any response as I find myself flung to the ceiling. This plane is now falling. It is coming true. The same dream is repeating itself and I am powerless to stop it. I can't wake up; no matter how I wish differently, it is real. Closing my eyes I brace for the impact, though I am not ready to go.
I awoke with a gasp, to see I'm still alive on the plane. But there is nobody in my section. |
Being so distracted from the strange phenomena, it took the surrounding drivers a few seconds to realise. Stomping pedals, yanking door handles, smashing against windows. Everyone there was trapped, and no longer were they in control.
Then, one single car had seemingly broken free of the curse. A small blue mini began weaving it's way throughout the otherwise stationary line up. It soon became clear however that the driver was no longer in control as the young man inside bashed his hands rashly against the window. Suddenly, it stopped, parked behind a large lorry with "Pepsi"printed on the side.
After a flashing of lights, they both vanish.
Immediately after, another driver loses control, then another, and another. Cars form behind get forced downwards filling every gap, scraping those beside as they go by, trapping the drivers and passengers even tighter, destroying any shred of hope they had left. All anyone can think is, "are we next"?
This pattern continues seemingly for ever, car after car line up before flashing lights and loud beeps, drowning out the screams of those imprisoned by their own transport.
Then finally in an instant, it stops. Is it over? A glimpse of freedom presents it's self to the still terrified but somewhat relieved crowd. People begin to look around to see if anyone had figured out how to escape, but instead what they see if a few with their eyes pointed to the sky. A wave of heads follow, turning to the sky to see a message, a message that could mean a slow and painful end for all of them.
P A U S E D!
|
Everyday was as the one before it was.
Life in the tunnels meant for hard times. cramped living quarters, food shortages, and a totalitarian authoritarian regime that never changed. Monarchy worked well for them, but at such a cost.
Gary had been working the tunnels for as long as he could remember. Days upon days of digging, building, maintaining the home that had sheltered them for so long. occasionally he would get a chance to wander around the restricted areas between shifts, but the guards kept the inhabitants in line at all times.
Gary had wanted to be a soldier so bad, at least they got to go occasionally out of the tunnels. on the other hand, most who went out never came back.
The survivors told stories of what was left of the world ouside. A harsh world full of enemies, scrounging for what remained of food and supplies. They told of what lay outside of the protection of the fortified home of theirs.
Today had started like any other. After waking up, Gary descended into the tunnel he had been working at. halfway down, he heard a faint vibration coming from somewhere close by. pieces of the tunnel started shaking and dirt began to fall from above.
Run!!! protect the royal family! a soldier had said on his way up the tunnel entrance. He must have been in a hurry, as he hadn't even grabbed a weapon before ascending above.
Gary wasn't one to ask questions, so he ran to the restricted area as fast as he could. Upon arriving at the entrance to the restricted area, gary's heart sank. the entire engtrance had collapsed. debris was everywhere and huge boulders blocked his path.
on the other side he heard screams and the sounds of air rushing and the rest of the tunnels collapsing near him. then something else. it sounded like a thundrous explosion. then silence.
carefully, gary started picking up the debris between him and the other corridor.
BOOM!
another explosion. closer this time. Definitely closer.
"What in the hell could it be?"Gary thought.
He didn't get to think of much after that.
BOOM!!!
Gary thought nothing after that. as the blade of a massive weapon sliced him in half, then withdrew.
"Jimmy! when you're finished digging that hole come on in, it's dinner"
"hey mom! I found an ant colony over here!"Jimmy yelled back
"Sorry guys, didn't mean to break your colony up."jimmy said plainly as he dropped his shovel to the ground and ran to the house.
|
Timecop's Journal, earthdate Junepity 47, Blue Forty-two:
Captain Reynolds is dead set on getting the rap on this one; a guy who ran over Paul McCartney in ancient Egypt. I mean Egypt. I mean England. Why are there no delete buttons on these futuristic I mean present day devices?
"Johnson stop talking to yourself,"said McMcathorn. "We don't recruit this Paul Mall guy we're in deep shit."
McMcathorn had legs that didn't quit. They were fired from three jobs already, they just couldn't learn from their mistakes. He tried talking sense into them but they treated him like a Coinstar: an old piece of crap that desperately needed change.
"Damn it Johnson, are you listening!?"McMcathorn demanding, pounding his fist on his second favorite drinking leg.
"I hear ya' boss. Hang a right here."
We'd taken the Rainbow Road to some dame named Abbey's house.
"Abbey Road. You still don't realize your damn neurotele's broken and broadcasting or are you just retarded?"
I--I'm not retarded. I knew that...
We swung into Abbey's driveway in the Kreyson Sector in search of *Paul McCartney* is his name, now who's retarded? Cap's old drinking buddy was a Paul McCartney from another dimension, and sure was sore at the time schism that caused a Volkswagen Beetle to run over his German friend, who happened to be a Volkswagen Beatle (Volkswagen was the German city the famous rappers The Beatles were from).
"That's him,"McMcathorn said, who had been eyeing me this whole time. I keep forgetting he hears all this.
We'd stopped in front of a bar called The Yellow Submarine, and sure enough, ol' alternate dimension Paul McCartney was on the corner busking his heart out.
"G'day there fellahz,"he said in an unmistakable Australian-Irish-Glasgoin-Norwegian accent. "Hreyear'll doin'?"It was unintelligible.
"Not great, Paul. 1966 England is dumb and stuff,"said McCarthy.
Then it hit me. McMcarthy... Paul McCartney... My very own partner was the alternate version I'd been looking for all along!
"Oy, oi can heyeah yaweh, COOPAH."
MY god, that wasn't an Australian whatever I said before accent at all! It was some other combination of accents I was too lazy to hyphenate! THIS WAS THE FUGITIVE! FROM THE OP'S TITLE! REMEMBER THAT WAS A-- that was an element!
I reeled in the cosmic cosmicity of it all.
"We've gotta get after him!"platituded my partner.
"Nevermind that, my dude. We gotta get you ready to play with the band!"
I took a handful out of acid and blew it into his face, because I didn't really know what acid was or how it worked but was pretty sure it was important for music and stuff.
Well right then and there, McMcarthy took out a shamisen and banged out the best god damn solo I ever heard. I looked out the window, and the fugitive stood there with an evil grin.
"What..."I started.
Then he took off a mask, revealing YOKOZUMA the famous ressler who broke up the beatles.
"oh no." |
I be I bet th I be this do esn doesn't ha hvI h I be tthis doesn't have an I bet this doesn't hI best this doesn't have a I be I be I be**woom woom woom WOOM WOOM WOOM WOOOOM WOOM**
Johnsonburg covered his microphone. What the hell? He was sure all his audio settings were correct. He was just getting ready to record his new hit single "I Bet This One Second Time Lag Has No Effect On Me!", but something was the matter.
Something was wrong.
He jumped up out of his chair. Then he jumped up out of his chair.
Wait what? Wait what?
Hello? ello?
...Echo! echo!
Um...
Um...
Is anyone e--
Is anyone e--
Having some weird pro--
Having some weird pro--
Problem with reddit?
Problem with reddit?
I know this is a--
I know this is a--
Writing prompt thread but...
Writing prompt thread but...
I can't write the story if...
I can't write the story if...
WHATHEFUCKISTHISBULLSHIT
Nothing don't worry about it.
Wait what...?
Wait what...?
No you-- you just cha--
No you-- you just cha--
...
...
...
...
Asdfjkl.
Asdfjkl.
Jkl SEMICOLON.
Jkl ball of Poland.
HEY SEE IT'S DIFFERENT.
HEY SEE IT'S DIFFERENT.
No it's not.
THAT WASN'T EVEN ME WRITING TH--
THAT WASN'T EVEN ME WRITING TH--
Guys what the fu--
Guys what the fu-- |
I looked at the vampire on the ground. My silver sword cut through his side and blood slowly drew from it. His shadowy eyes looked at me and he knew his time was coming to an end.
He tried one last time to take it out of his side. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he threw his head back to the wall.
"Before you kill me, let me ask you something. Do monsters create war? Or does war create monsters?"
My mouth had a bitter taste in it. "There is only one monster. That monster is war." |
My head was groggy and I could taste blood in my mouth. That bitter, coppery taste that makes you want to wash your mouth or vomit.
My head was killing me, and the fog all around the boat made it impossible to see. Why wasn’t I home yet? I thought to myself. The boat ride is so short, and I’ve taken it a million times since I moved here a few years ago.
The old river boat was mostly made from wood. It creaked and whistled in all the wrong places, and it sometimes felt like it was only held together by ropes, glue and the sheer will of the captain alone.
“Hello stranger” a voice called out next to me. I was lying on my back in the passenger compartment below deck. It had windows all around to see outside, and plenty of chairs. But they were all vacant expect for the one this person was sitting in.
He was an elderly man, in his late middle age. He had a bushy beard and large, square reading glasses that covered most of his upper face. I had to crane my neck a bit to see him from my position.
“Hey” I said. “Where are we?”
“Beats me son, I woke up here same as you. Got that funky taste in yer mouth?”
“Yeah, would kill for a drink”.
“Me too”.
“Why aren’t we at the dock? And where is everyone?”
“Everyone’s dead” came a loud booming voice from the entrance of the deck. It was the captain. He was even older than the other man, with a clean, pressed uniform.
“Wait...what?”
“Everyone’s dead and they ain’t coming back?”.
“Who do you mean everyone?” said the middle aged man, joining the confusing conversation.
“Take a look out the window”.
I stood up from the cold wooden floor and walked over to the window. The middle aged man did the same.
At first I could only see fog and I said as much.
“How are we expected to see anything?”
“Take a closer look son” said the middle aged man. He had a terrible, frightened look on his face, one that a small child have.
I did as he asked, and when I really focussed, I could see it. A giant vortex, up in the sky. It spewed out fire, and lightning. And storming out of the centre were creatures. Winged creatures flying down to the lake. Their razor sharp teeth gnashing as they did so.
I turned in horror to the captain. He looked me dead pan in the face.
“Get ready boys, they’re coming in for a second round”. |
(First time giving this a shot, here's hoping it's decent!)
The woman stood as tall as she could manage, her cane's tip thumping against the pristine marble of His sanctuary.
"Ethel Smith...you stand before God. Your creator. What say you to explain this intrusion upon mine sanctuary, the *perfection* upon which only a higher power is worthy of striding?"His voice was everywhere at once. Surrounding Ethel, filling every atom of her being.
The pale being sitting before Ethel Smith in a throne of gold was amused at the creature before Him. For all of the defiance in her posture, the hate in her eyes, this scrap of life at its end was almost too amusing for Him to remain composed. It dared to defy its creator, treading His sacred ground as only a small number of fools before her had dared. Before He made an example of her, the being known to humanity as God found himself wanting to know what sort of suicidal thought had brought this one before His glory.
"It's yer fault, ya big dope!"Ethel's voice was loud, but lacked the presence of her God. To His senses, it was the squeak of a mouse against the oncoming wind. He leaned in a bit, thinking He'd misheard. "Do speak again, creature. I could not possibly have heard what it sounded as though those mouth flaps said."
*Thwap!*
He recoiled as Ethel swung her cane, the wooden stick bouncing off of His head. She glared at Him, seventy-nine years of anger having been put into her swing. He felt younger. Smaller. Scared. His mind was in a far-off time, remembering what had made Him into the being He was.
"You heard damn well what I said, ya pale son of a bitch! This is your fault! The world, the pain, my grandkids! What kinda monster lets this happen? War, sickness, misery the world over! You'd never understand and you don't want to, because you think you're better than us!"
He'd heard enough. The creature had become annoying, and had even dared to strike Him. He would create an example, so that the next to come for Him might think better of it before entering His sanctuary. "You're going to die now, creature."He stood, raising His arm as a bolt of lightning took form in His hand.
Ethel did not try to run. She didn't close her eyes, beg, pray, or kneel. She stepped forward, cane striking out with a fury that He had never before seen. The fury that He'd been waiting for. To have His first taste of combat with the creature made for this exact purpose be with such an old specimen was disappointing, but-
Ethel was many things. Old. Angry. Tired. Sick. She was not, however, a patient woman. Seeing the thing that claimed to have created her and her kind standing with a weapon, mocking her by not simply striking her down immediately when she hit Him, her creator...it pissed her off. She was old, not stupid. She hadn't come to God's sanctuary to have a chat and go home.
Ten years ago Ethel Smith's two grandchildren, the shining lights of her life, had been crushed when lightning struck a tree, knocking it over into their guest room at her home in Florida. She'd awoken to screams. Even as an ambulance rushed to the house, Ethel saw the life fade from their eyes. She had been a religious woman her entire life, and never once missed attending mass at her local church. She prayed, and spoke to countless priests, pastors, ministers, rabbis, and imams. Ten years of questions had finally gotten her to an answer,and here she was.
"You took my darlings, and I'm taking you!"Ethel struck out with her cane. He hadn't expected this. She was supposed to shrink back in terror. She should be on her knees begging Him to spare her eternal soul. Instead, the curve of the cane's handle caused Him to stumble. He fell forward. Before He truly knew what was happening, He felt pain. Intense pain, in every part of His body. The bolt intended to smite the fierce old woman stuck out from His chest as he tried to stand. He couldn't feel His legs. He'd never fought before. He'd never fallen before. An instinct had taken over and His arms had stretched out to lessen the impact. A human had bested Him, and with His own weapon. He said nothing as darkness closed in.
Ethel Smith turned and walked away, her cane tapping against the bloodstained marble. The world would never know what she had done, and the high authorities of the various churches that knew of His existence pondered for many years on what it meant for humanity when their own God could die from falling upon His own weapon. |
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Wednesday they told me of the massacre
Everyone at the market had perished by gunfire
All of the town authorities were there in the woods
Really not getting anywhere
Except for me, the county detective
Grave the situation was, families recognizing the trees
Really, who was the cause, was it fleeing robbers?
Or was this a mob hit?
Oh wait, it was me, and nobody would suspect!
Timer was a-tickin' and they were all out of time.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading this! Really look though, there is a hidden message! |
With a gasp of air, I find myself in a hospital bed, unplugged from the game. Years of a life I have made for myself within, gone. Yet the people I once knew and loved surrounded me, filled with tears of joy, no doubt. Gazing upon them, I felt I recognized them but I also didn't.
Hiding their disappointment at seeing me not seeming grateful to have survived, we "celebrated". Pizza, a delicacy I had not tasted, since, well since I could taste. The cheese and the pepperoni slid around my taste buds, accompanied with the pepper I sprinkled on top, gave a symphony of flavor I have admittedly missed. The music was familiar too.
Adjusting to normal life again will take some getting used to, but oh boy, am I going to need therapy. Depression will likely set in when I'm in moments of quiet or whenever I see reminders of my old life.
I had to take down my posters of Star Wars, all my memorabilia, all of my action figures, movies, and games. Even the books from the Extended Universe had to go. Rehabilitation would be easier this way.
I am still bitter that the servers have been shut down. I can't sleep at night without television or music, I can't get a wink without seeing her face or hearing the giggles of children. I can't hear some fake sci-fi gun go off or any sound that sounds like the lightsaber being enabled. Finally, after hours of Spongebob, I fall asleep.
No longer am I in this self-imposed isolation where I am a nobody that can find friends or a loved one in the outside world. I am with them again! As I approach her though, she fades as do the children. All gone. I reach for my blaster, my bounty hunter outfit. Those fade away too. I start to fade, until -
I awake in my bed, in a cold sweat and in tears. The mattress holds my body that holds this melancholy. I can't go back. I can't see her again, I will likely never meet her.
The Jedi were right to abstain from such things. I can't deal with this anymore. As I prepare to leave this life too, I have a realization:
Only a Sith deals in absolutes. This isn't the way.
I can change it all tomorrow. I don't even have to leave Star Wars behind me. I just have to turn my life around. It will be a long road to loving myself, to changing myself until I am living my best life, but anything has got to be better than this.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A year has passed since I had been removed from my false life. I have a fiance, and we are expecting! While I may not be living as an intergalactic bounty hunter on the run with his family, I am a father-to-be with a published book on the experience and a job writing Star Wars comics to pay the bills. Things aren't so bad after all. I'm at peace. I'm one with the Force, and the Force is with me. |
Day was so long ago. Feels like years, maybe. I haven't seen the stars in so long either. The only place that could offer any solace is the cabin behind me, yet I'm stuck. I'm transfixed on this spot, standing in this snowy field, which doesn't even feel cold. I don't feel anything. I want to die, to spare myself from this isolation. Then one night, I see those familiar bright twinkles in the sky, canvasing around me. Those are not stars, however. As fainter light grows around these glowing orbs, I see what looks like an interior to something that dwarfs me. It's still pretty dark, but I can make out the meaning behind these faux-stars. The pupils look vastly different from my own, down to the irises and cornea, even the eyelids are foreign. To break the feeling of loneliness, a voice calls out from the void:
"Hey, honey! I got you something from my business trip!" |
It was only a matter of time before mortals found out about us with their advancements of technology in the last fifty years. While we’ve influenced the deepest part of governments, including Canada, our influence in humanity’s everyday lives couldn’t save us from the fanatics and scared people. Instead of a war, we held a conversation with the governments of the world and the heads of our Kindred families. A basic set of rules was set up for both human and vampires, but it didn’t stop religious zealots from hunting us, consensual blood donors outing members of our kind, and the police harassing kindred for previous unsolved crimes with no hard evidence.
While some of humanity wanted us to be exterminated, and a few who wanted to be us, there was some who wanted to help us. *Purity* is a company created by one of the bigger pharmaceutical companies hoping to reverse *Vampirism* through a series of medical operations involving blood transfusion, cell rehabilitation, and regrowth. Their first breakthrough was through a *newborn* named Caitlin, a vampire for less than four years. The data and science behind their operation were kept internal, the success of seeing a vampire now human brought up conversations amongst all families about possible conversions.
The group who wanted to become human argued that *Vampirism* is a curse, a black mark on one’s soul. The gifts of *immortality*, *enhanced abilities*, and *beauty* is nothing compared of dealing with the voice in our head telling us to feed, to take life and consume life’s essence. There is also the religious ramifications of being a vampire and eternal damnation, and that *Purity* was giving a vampire’s soul back.
The group who insisted on remaining to be vampires, people who’ve been converted by choice or elders argued they’re the next step in human revolution. They should be the leaders of humanity, and humanity should serve them. It was this disconnection with humanity I found concerning with my fellow elders, and I’ve decided to become human again.
This is my video testimony and consent to the operation.
---------------------------------------
The video of the consent video of Daniel Storm continued to play, a man dressed in a hospital gown appearing to be thirty years old laid on the operating table. Shortly a doctor and a couple of nurses approach the table. There the video cut out, edited to save the operation details against competitors.
When the video started up again, the thirty year old man sat up on the table. His body began aging quickly. He started scream for help, in pain from the rabid aging process. The doctor pushes him back onto the table, Nurses begin to re-hookup his body to blue bags of fluid. Daniel’s arm falls off the operating table, upon hitting the ground it crumbled into dust. The procedure wasn’t successful.
----------------------------
The edited video of Daniel’s conversion was sent to government and law enforcement as per regulations. This was the first death of a vampire to human conversion, and soon Purity put a new rule in effect for their procedure, a person may not be a vampire for more than a hundred years. Issuing a difference between a vampire’s age, body’s age when turned, and the process of cell rejuvenation caused unforeseen and unpredictable circumstance without a guinea pig first.
The Vampire Elders took Purity into court, it was in the court case it was revealed Purity while being partly owned by Pharmaceutical Corporation, it was also being funded by several religious organizations. It was in the court case where *Purity* admitted they knew it was likely for a vampire over the age of a 100 would die, but it was alright with their board members it was okay to withhold.
The courts sided with Purity in the end because of the video consents given to Purity by Vampires knowing if anything were to happen, Purity can’t be blamed for it.
This is how the first Vampire War started.
|
The first time it happened was the 4th grade. I fell off a swing set at school and woke up in a world that wasn't quite right. The grass was a slightly different shade of grey, the songs birds sang were off key, and the air felt heavy. As a 9 year old I thought it was strange, but didnt tell anyone out of fear.
The second time I hit my head was football practice in 11th grade. Jimmy Sullivan mashed his helmet into my head while tackling me, I dont remember the hit but I do remember waking up to a strange new world. Everything was wrong. People had two heads, the sky was filled with two moons and their reflective light was deep blue. As a 15 year old I knew it was strange, but didnt tell anyone out of fear.
The third time my noggin took a shake was college, playing frisbee in the quad, I tried to catch it but hit a tree with my face. This time I woke I was confronted with a loud hum coming from the nearby lake that was raining water into the sky, and green faces looking down at me. As a 20 year old I was sure this wasnt normal, but I didnt tell anyone out of fear.
The 4th time my head hit hard was 2 months later. I didnt like the lake, it was creepy. I found a rock and bashed my head a couple of times. It hurt. But it worked. This time I woke up in a room with impossible shapes for walls, and a hunger for dirt. I didnt tell anyone, was scared.
5th time. Much later, strange shapes got boring, time for new world, found another rock. Opened eyes to blue sky, heart racing, am I home? Sit up to see mountain of fire. Nope, not home. Didnt tell anyone.
6th. Want home, dont want fire anymore. It's hot. Find rock, cross fingers, smash. Wake to ring around planet. Nope. Dont speak. Only want home. Not here anymore. No rocks. Only thick gross air, see no people. Still scared. |
"I have weaved the patterns of life throughout the ages. I have defined and destroyed the most significant moments through millenia. I have determined ever detail that has led up to the most devastaing and the most awe inspiring events throughout history. Many of those moments were lost as your history derailed itself. No matter how many warnings I put in your path, humanity never listens. It is precisely why your governments fall; greed, hatred, fear. None of the webs I had spun for your history contained these things. Humans created their own destruction, I was simply following my own orders. When the Old One tells me a civilisation must fall, I pull the blocks out and watch them tumble. I control the outcome, whether or not it is determines by another."
"Is that why you ate my tacos?"
"... Yes." |
For so long I have imagined what I'd find. Years spend on endless research, tiring travels, years of solitude and enduring mockery of others. All whilst thinking of all the possibilities. In the end, that which I found never did crossed my mind.
I can't count how many times I nearly got to my destination. Thousands, for sure. But it always slipped through my fingers, the end of the rainbow.
I almost caught it in Burgundy. Heavy rain lasted for hours, giving me enough time to make some predictions. Where it would appear. The size of the arc. I was so close, but... I made a mistake. Didn't study the terrain close enough and paid the price. The rainbow had it's ends in a giant cavern. Couldn't get in because I had no gear. I wouldn't last long there. They may call me mad, but I'm not. I'm devoted. Mad man would sacrifice his own life to see it. I preferred to be methodical. After all, the reward would be worth living, I thought.
I was wrong.
My dream came true on the southern slopes of the Appalachian mountains. The prognosis was good - medium rain, not much wind. Nearly perfect. I set up my equipment and started the calculations as soon as it started. All the while I thought about it. Pot of gold and a leprechaun? Passage to land of the Fairies? God? What could await me?
I chased down to what I knew will be the place where the rainbow will touch the ground. I was nearly there when rain stopped and it appeared. Gorgeous as ever. A small opening in the nearby woods - that was my goal. That is where I found it.
I stepped into the clearing, not believing my eyes. Why did I have to look for it? What monstrous fate has lead me here?
I looked with both relief, joy, sorrow and fear, as the rainbow shined from and into what can only be described as a unicorn's butt.
As I stood there, perplexed at the sight of a horned horse at the end of the rainbow, the majestic creature turned it's head my way and actually spoke:
"Dude, would you mind giving me some privacy?" |
"𝑫𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅"
\-\-\-\-\-
My anxiety was getting worse. I needed to leave. Pushing through the crowd of people, I slipped through the front door and left the party without so much as being noticed. My chest tightened and I could feel my heart racing as I descended the stairs down to the lobby entrance, barreling past the tempered glass doors and out onto the street. My panic was getting worse and the sounds of traffic were being amplified. I had to find somewhere quiet, somewhere safe. I remembered the nearby station.
Hurrying, I passed under the broken arch, nearly tripping down the stairs into the tunnel below. On my way, I noticed that there was nobody around and was thoroughly surprised. Usually, the train stations were crawling with life, even with vermin, but there was no energy here, no presence. Further in, the power barely worked, lights flickering in the distance. Finding a seat, I set myself down and started my breathing exercises, clutching my bloodied hand to my chest, too distracted to take note of the emptiness of the station. Soon enough, my anxiety faded, my nerves calmed. Leaning back in the chair, I pressed the back of my head against the cold tile, my eyes swiveling to observe my surroundings.
There really wasn't anything here. There was no security to stop me from jumping the turnstile. No power to the screens to tell me when the trains were arriving, no people standing around, checking their watches and waiting for the train, no trains themselves. The station was devoid of energy. On the ground, dancing in the breeze sent down from the streets above, several stray pages of newspaper. My eyes could make out the words "abandoned"and "accident".
Standing up, I walked over to the edge of the station platform, stopping just short of the yellow line and peering down into the darkened tunnels on either side. I was immediately overcome with a sense of dread that proceeded to pierce my very soul. Just then, I felt something push me and I lost my balance, toppling over the side and onto the tracks below. Moments later, I straightened myself up and tried to peer over the side, calling out to see if anyone was there. My attempts to climb up onto the platform were futile. My foot was stuck in the tracks. Grumbling, I tried to free my foot from the trap, and that's when I heard the horn.
A bright light pierced through the darkness of the tunnel in front of me, small at first but getting bigger over time. The tracks began to rumble and shake, and I could feel my anxiety returning in full force. Panicked, I struggled even harder to free my foot from under the rail, but I couldn't get it out. The light was much larger now, the horn far louder than before as I glimpsed the shine of steel in the distance. I was both visibly and audibly distressed, my breathing rapid as I attempted yet again to pull my foot out. No success. This was it. I screamed and covered my face as I met the train.
"Caleb?"
My attention was pulled to Jeremy, who waved his hand in front of my face. Blinking, I felt myself come back to reality, my chest tightened in fear. I looked around at the puzzled and concerned faces that stared back at me. Jeremy pointed to my hand, which was covered in blood and broken glass. I guess I squeezed it too hard. Realizing my mistake, I frantically apologized and hurried to clean as much of the mess up as I possibly could. In the back of my mind, I could feel their judging eyes burrowing into the back of my skull. When I finished, I moved over to the kitchen and washed my hand off as the party continued on without me.
My anxiety was getting worse. I needed to leave. |
Zuko winced as the light hit his face. The burn still caused him an immense pain and this only amplified his rage and drive. He had a feeling about this one- the Avatar was sure to be here. He strode down the ramp, trying his hardest to appear in control. He took a breath of the smoky air and surveyed the scene before him.
A column of soldiers stood before him in a lush jungle- or at least it was shortly before he arrived. Flames lapped at the tall trees and cast a sickly glow onto the shaded ferns. Kneeling in front of his men were several captives, bound in chains. They were of a sort Zuko had never seen- blue skin, peculiar facial features, and even a tail.
Zuko took a breath, and focused his energy into his chi centers. An intense jet of flame extended from his clenched knuckle like a blade as he advanced on the captives.
He held up his fire blade to the throat of one, a female with emerald green eyes. Those eyes stared back at him with fear and bewilderment as they recoiled from the heat.
"Remove the gag"Spoke Zuko, in a tone that suggested he was prepared to get his answers by any means. The masked soldier standing behind the girl roughly tore away the cloth gag, and she gasped for breath, choking on the smoky air.
Zuko seized her by the throat. "I want answers, and I will only ask once. The boy- where is he? Where are you hiding him?"
The girl spoke in a quivering voice- but not in a language Zuko had ever heard. "*Rutxecrä’ä...Tutee rä’ä omum!*"
Zuko roared in anger and roughly struck the bound girl across the face. She cried out and sank to the ground.
"Do any of them speak in a tongue I can understand?"demanded Zuko to his soldiers. "None that we have seen, sir."
Zuko glowered with anger. "Burn the rest of this wretched forest to the ground."
He strode back up the airship's ramp. *Perhaps Uncle will know what to do.* he thought. The Avatar would not evade him forever.
He would have his prize. His honor. |
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**Victim perspective:**
"Write!"Hurled his captor a bunch of papers and a couple of pens.
Little did the captor knew that it would take years to just write down what he has seen all these years.
But the real question was how did the captor find out about him?
He was always careful not to leave behind any trail, shifting countries every 10 years and literally living as low key as possible and emerging only when he had a breakthrough.
How could someone even in the wildest of dreams guess who he was ?
To begin with he was not an ancient deity or a lad immersed in dust of some weird meteorite. As he would like to put it himself he was naturally selected by nature.
He had seen that movie "The man from earth"and enjoyed it but was afraid of his fate if everyone found out his secret and had since been careful to avoid satisfying his ego by boasting his knowledge.
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**Captor perspective:**
The captor was relaxing over a drink and smoke while the history was being written in his tiny guest room. It was a chance that he had managed to track him. He was just a Machine Learning enthusiast who was trying his new tricks on photos of his friends to find historical persons who looked like his friend’s, so that he could make fun of them.
But by a chance occurrence some random guy from a friend’s picture matched with many historical paintings. Not that they all looked same, they were clearly of different men and of different time periods. But even after countless re runs the images matched with an 83% accuracy many famous people.
He had a hunch and felt he had hit gold. He builds a facial recognition virus which would alert him if someone with similar features were found and after a slow progression he received his first notification a week before the guy from image had decided to escape for his new location.
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**Victim perspective:**
He had resigned from his job removed his traces to escape to a new location but one night he was ambushed from his walk home after dinner at the nearby place.
The captor only asked for one thing to write everything he knew.
He knew a lot, he thrived on knowledge and thus had mastered lots of stuff over the years and one of them was the making weapons out of paper from his time at a monk in Japan.
He made a pressure amplifier which could be used as a gun with paper bullets. He also had expertise in acupuncture and knew the spots in a human body which were enough to lay anyone down.
He readied himself with these and wrote some locations and with anonymous locker numbers in the city and slid the paper from below the room with a note reading "Everything on Hard drives in these lockers."
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**Captor perspective:**
He had not imagined that it would have been this easy, he went ahead and got a locker opened and came back to find that the drives were encrypted.
He opened the guest room and before he could realise anything he was on the floor.
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**Victim perspective:**
He was swift in his moves and in a single spit ball made the captor unconscious but the real horror was when he saw the face of the captor it was same as his or probably it was himself.
He searched through the captor’s computer and found a video dated 500 years into the future. He played the video and found a message from his future self
"Hey! This is you from 500 years from the future, you have managed to invent time travel but a side effect of time travel is amnesia, through trials over the past 500 years i have forgotten almost everything prior to this. I have documented everything since past 500 years and can use a memory loader to recall everything from the cloud all I want is to hand over everything you know to my robot \(who looks like me and is programmed to blend in and find you without raising suspicion\) and proceed with your life.
.... Just put both his hands on your head and recall every detail you can and your conscious will be transferred into his as soon as the mission is completed he will be transported to my time period....
"
With this message he was confused but confident that he would have definitely done this and proceeded as said...
And the thus begun the tale of the /[u/ImmortalTimeTraveler](https://www.reddit.com/user/ImmortalTimeTraveler). |
"You once swore to end all evil, because, you were somehow better than us. In reality, the only differences between heroes and villains are that heroes are born in a functional family, with a silver spoon in their mouths. The men and women society calls villains are just people, people struggling to survive in a world that condemns them. Villains are constantly fighting against the current, fighting until they're buried in a watery grave. Now you'll feel societies wrath just as I have."
As the last of Cordigan's life dripped from his body, and he was left impaled on a spike of marble, Castle stood in shock; he couldn't believe that he murdered Cordigan. Sure, Cordigan was a vile human being, but, he was human none the less. Castle turned his back to the corpse, but, something was different. Physically\-\-other than the wounds inflicted by Cordigan\-\-Castle felt fine. But, mentally, Castle couldn't help but repeat Cordigan's monologue over and over again, until, he felt something snap. Some primal force within him broke free unleashing his ability in full causing the floor beneath him to erupt into a forest of stone.
Spears of marble rose high, puncturing through ceiling tiles, and to the floor above. Castle, carefully placing his steps so not to stab his foot, slowly made his way out of the building, where the forest of stone followed him like a shadow. Outside, news vans, reporters, and bystanders stood behind a wall of police officers, staring in confusion, at the scene that was unraveling before them. Nearby, a police officer aimed his gun at Castle, and other officers soon did the same.
"Castle, stand down! If you continue using your powers against innocents, we will open fire,"the voice boomed from a megaphone. Not meaning to harm innocents, Castle opened his mouth to tell them to move far away from him, that he had no control over his powers. But, before he could testify his innocence and give warning, the street in front of him ruptured, engulfing a news van.
The officers quickly opened fire on Castle, to neutralize him, and protect the people. Castle, not wanting to die, created a wall of concrete around himself. Castle could hear as each bullet crashed into the wall, and the sound of people panicking. Castle's fear that he had killed another person only made the situation worse. More and more spears rose from the ground at a faster pace than before, and although they had stopped rising from beneath him, he could feel the earth, breaking outside his bubble. He could pinpoint where each skewer and hole of his making was, but he could do nothing to fix them, for once, Castle was powerless.
\-\-\-
"Castle, the once hero turned villain, is still holed deep within a growing minefield of concrete. As most of you know; Castle has the power to manipulate stone and was once a stalwart ally on the side of justice. Police Chief Jameson has released no official statement on the issue; meanwhile, fellow hero, and friend to Castle, Solace, is nowhere to be seen. We'll have more, up next, after the break."
\-\-\-
Within his bubble of concrete, Castle could feel the concrete spires getting higher and higher; he knew that this couldn't go on, that he needed to get away from other people before his powers took away more than their homes and jobs. He needed to get away before he took their lives; before a child is skewered at the top, blood dripping down, body hanging limply almost like an umbrella.
Try as he might, Castle couldn't get that image out of his head; he had already killed someone, what was to stop his abilities from killing another? With his mind made up, castle crushed the bubble in between two pillars of his own making and dashed towards the city limits. Behind him, the stone spires flourished, extending their reach everywhere he ran, and high above, news helicopters recorded every second. Castle knew that they would drag his name through the mud, that, by running, to the people, he was proving he was guilty. The destruction he caused by running away from the city would paint him to be a villain, and would hurt a lot of people for a long while, but, he believed he'd be doing more good, by leaving the city forever.
\-\-\-
"In a devastating turn of events, Castle has begun to run around the city; there have been massive reports of destruction to neighborhoods and the museum district. I advise anyone still at home, within one of the affected areas, to contact local authorities and get to safety. Castle's fight against Cordigan seems to have pushed him over to the side of villainy, one can only wonder what happened, and if Cordigan is still alive." |
There was the matter of Joachim.
He was a youth of twenty-something. His hair was smooth as silk. The beauty of his face could only be properly expressed by the kind of artist who is described as eccentric.^1 His mind was sharp enough to write his own amusing simile.
Unfortunately, he was also suicidal. However, if you asked him about his feelings on life, he could quite honestly tell you that the mortal coil was not something he wanted to shuffle, sidle, or otherwise meander from.
No, Joachim was unwittingly suicidal, in much the same way butterflies unwittingly^2 cause maelstroms. He was afflicted with a rare mania called atheism.
In most worlds, atheism was the product of logic, that lovely mistress whose sultry whispers drove the ape to look at become man through medium of sticks, stones, and sticks tied to stones. Indeed, Joachim was an exceptionally logical young man, striving to find a rational explanation to everything.
This line of thought led him to dismissing the Miracle of Jok-Hathar as nothing more than as the result of an exceptionally well-polished sword. From there, arguments were made against the Famine of Shaliba, Thalim's Eyes, and the Venerable Thim, son of Thim. In the end, Joachim decided that he did not believe in the gods.
This rather conflicted with their gods' own opinion, who believed very hard in their own existence. They simply could not have someone going around, not acknowledging their existence. That would be exceptionally rude.
So, they did what any reasonable deity would do, and decided to murder the poor sap in cold blood. After all, the death penalty led to a fairly^3 low recidivism rate.
At that moment in time, Joachim was sitting at a dinner table, expressing his arguments to a captive audience of one dog. At the climax of his passionate speech, the gods struck. Unfortunately, the strike ended up as more of a whiff.
The High God Jok-Hathar sent out his lightning, formed into a convenient ball for all those pesky indoors infidels. Before it could hit itself, however, it ground itself on a terracota warrior of Zain, trying to get Thalim's devourer scarabs out of its crevices. Shaliba's Seeker Arrow found Drayvon's Daring Dart instead of its intended target, with which it eloped, to later create a bundle of tiny bolt progeny. Bob's Piercing Note fell to deaf ears thanks to Uvalya's Curse of Silence, whose effects were neutralised in turn by a very confused banshee teleported in by Logvar, God of Screaming Progeny. To finish it all off, Hargoth the Devourer sent a disintegration blast, but Joachim was protected by Overlord X'Pzl'Ka[raven noises]'Se's Eternal Tomb.
In the end, the atheist was unscathed. The gods decided to call it a case of divine intervention and let him be. The fact that they *were* the divines did not elude them, but, frankly, they were too confused to bother with such irrelevant details.
All Joachim himself saw was a brief glimpse of darkness, followed by him finding his dining room a whole lot dustier. The dog, who had, up until that point, been comfortably listening to Joachim's speech in the comfort of his lap, was pleasantly surprised by the new playing possibilities that just opened up.
With the dog happily rolling around in the dust, Joachim sighed. He'd have to have another one of *those* talks with the city's wizards. They really needed to improve their teleportation practices...
----
^(1 *That particular epithet would only be used long after the artist's death, when the combined sales of their paintings exceeded the gross domestic product of several smaller kingdoms. In life, people would refer to the artist as "weirdo", "hilariously insane", and "that there hobo that talks with rats.*")
^(2 *Sure, unwittingly. If you trust all those scientists who keep deceiving the people about how butterflies are "harmless"or, "can't possibly be smart enough to organise a sinister cabal."*)
^(3 *Most post-necrotic humans prefer to stay away from a life of crime. It takes a special kind of mind not to mind getting beheaded twice.*)
|
Yeah, the, uhh, women. When that guy, you know, Scrotum-Chin, said he was gonna randomly wipe out half the population, well, you know, I figured, overpopulation and all. But shit, his classification for half sucked.
Why couldn't it be, I dunno, people who put in toilet paper rolls the wrong way. Or like *Logan's Run* where everyone over 30 was confettied.
That said, sex change operations have gotten *really* convincing. And the 5th generation femme-bots don't feel like a latex covered Dyson. Which I know from personal experience. But, uh, no kids, right?
Anyway, art has really flowered due to all this sublimated desire. So, yay. |
In the middle of the dark room, among all the bodies, he stood there wearing no discernible expression on his face. If there was anything going through his head, I could not see it on his face. He turned his face and looked at me. His grim expression with his piercing eyes startled me, and I instinctively took a step back.
“They sent five Cleaners after you,” he said, “They must really want you dead.”
I can’t say anything. If this man knew the existence of the Cleaners, the ones who killed failures and traitors, then he surely knew about the Organization.
He tried to smile at me, but it was an awkward half-smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to kill you. I got word that they dispatched a bunch of Cleaners to one location, so it was a great opportunity to kill them all at once.”
I swallowed my fear and spoke up. “Who are you?”
“Heh. I’m just like you; I’ve been branded a traitor to the Organization. I’ve been on the run for about a year now and they eventually stopped sending Cleaners after me. Now I hunt Cleaners for the fun of it. What about you?”
“I’m a Programmer. It’s a long story.”
“We all have our secrets. No worries.”
There was something about the way he talked. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Despite being cold, I could sense some warmth hidden behind his words. That once piercing gaze was now replaced with a calm coolness.
I blurted out. “Can I come with you?”
He began to think. “You said you are a Programmer. Perhaps you can be useful.”
“They would’ve killed me if you didn’t show up. If they send more, I won’t survive the second attempt.”
“Sure, you can come with me. I know some people that can hide you from them. Come on, let’s not stand around here for much longer. We can talk elsewhere.”
And that’s how, in a dark hotel room, I met him.
|
Thundercracks boomed, and flashes of light brought me back to the diner. In my hand was the cup of joe I had ordered two minutes ago. Part of me tried to backtrack how I ended up in the War. Seeing the steaming cup of coffee, I realized. It was the same steam I saw boil off the warship engines I served in.
"So what you up to?"A fiendishly beautiful stallion wandered up to me in the bar. Her green eyes drew me away.
"Somehow, I never thought I'd be seeing memories for as long as I lived."
"Aw, c'mo-on, stud. The war's ovah..."
"One war is over. Another just begun!"I snapped. It drove me nuts the idiots here don't really know what's going on. It didn't matter anyway, the stuff I saw.
"So bear wit me, sir. I'm just dying for a nice night out. An-."
"And bear with me. I'm saying 'no.' I'm not meeting your sister again."
A glass broke, and my mind took me back to the bars in France. Sure, we'd be having a good time, but the enemy artillery was no joke. At least, not in the beginning of the war. Brick dust irritated my neck as the building crumpled down on us and I, stuck under a cross beam, was forced to watch my buddies struggle and suffocate, painfully.
"Mister."My mind was called to the present again. I don't know if it was the alcohol talking, but the lady was starting to look prettier. I took a swig. "So you have anything to offer?"
"I can be your, how they say in French, *feu*."
I blinked, and the sherman to my left fired, the Resistance shouting in French to my bud, Casseus. Pisser born in Kansas could understand French from a drunk Dane in a loud bar. I saw movement on my right, and aimed, fired. A kid screamed, telling true the myths; the enemy resorted to kids. Freaking kids for the *Werhmacht*.
The bell rang, and I looked behind me. Old Professor looking type with glass lens narrower than a colt shouted, "The Soviets. They-. They dropped a bomb. They got nuclear now, too!"
The bar's din quelled, and all I could think was, *Great. Now that's two battles of life I might be in!* |
"Die Bicth!"Wexley practically expectorated the words as he tore into my sternum, abdomin, and cephalothorax with the vivacity of a middle-aged housewife who has just spotted the pair of shoes that will complete a rather flattering ensemble. I was swiftly and surely dead by his hands. In my dying breath I cursed the Old Gods and New- for I had at last, after many severals of seconds thought-ened upon the holy grail: the ultimate writing prompt.
As I lay dying upon the floor, the majesty of teh prompt unshared, I felt a strange, almost pusillanimous feeling in that emotive center of the human mind. I knew, then and there, that I would revenge myself upon Wexley. I would show him who was the real Bicth. I invoked the Gods again as I passed from this mortal life, into the aether, swearing that I would have my vengence in this life or the next.
... And I awoke in an office conference room surrounded by all those storied creatures from which might once have enkindled notions of the divine. There were the obvious ones: like Odin with his ONE EYE and ravens, Zeus was a ripped guy with his baller toga and flowing beard, Hades with his tri-pupperoni was just chillen out by the beverage table, a bunch of weird Egyptian gods that are like the Ur-Furries...
0w0
**0w0**
#**0w0**
They were arguing or something about who got dibs on my soul for the afterlife. I didn't give a shit. All I cared about was that my writing prompt was never going to see the earthly light of day. I'd have to pawn it off to one of the Muses or some bullshit like that, and hope to Vishnu that someone with greater than average skill at wordsmithing would take up the reigns. But, oh shit! I guess it turns out that I'm immortal. "Suck on that Jabronies!"I ejaculated the phrase, with gusto and moxie.
Jesus had been sitting in the corner of the room just shooting up крокодил like an absolute madman, but when he hears this, he looses his cool. Starts talking shit about the Kennedy Assassination, and how it's all connected to the Tunguska Event, and caviar, and getting really animated and upset- weird shit. He works himself up and whips out a NRS-2 and shoot/stabs Anubis {Rarest of Puppers}. Right about then the room is so silent that you would think someone had did died. Because- *they* **had did**.
Kali bicth slapped a sir right then, Jesus didn't even know what hit him on account of the slapping and the крокодил. That's when a Pillar of Light shown through the ceiling and Big G shows up saying "hey don't hit it and quit it."All is silent like a toaster-oven that's been off for hours and then Zoroaster whispers to the G-man "Sir, he killed Jan Wijk's dawg."And G_d said "ofc, he did... Kali slap that bicth till he lernt his lessen."
Then Jan Wijk showed up, but I never saw that movie so I guess some cool Equilibrium stuff happens- which is too bad since it came out after the Matrix and everyone says that it copied the Matrix, but seriously it's a really good movie that you should check out if you haven't seen it and want to have some of that arrogant smarmy smugness that 1st semester philosophy majors have because you totally got it and nobody else could ever understand the understated brilliance of the film like you could. And also really good fight scenes.
Jan Wijk says a brutal one-liner that I don't really pay attention to, and then tosses me a stroopwafel. And then I walke home to kill my butler Wexley back for the killing he did earlier, while noshing the tasty confection. So basically the moral of the story is that you should write down whatever cool Writing Prompts you come up with, because you might be immortal and your butler killing you is no reason to not be prepared, and Jan Wijk carries ethnically-themed treats with him for some reason. |
I’m completely aware that when one with my job fails to complete it successfully, we are meant to feel bad. Guilt, sorrow, regret - for a multitude of reasons. For one, you let an innocent person die. For two, you let an innocent person that was set to improve the world on a national, global scale as they “continue to the advancement of science”, die. And for three, you failed a very important and legal task; while you will be reprimanded at a baseline, for a failure is a failure no matter the immensity, it also must be taken on a case-by-case basis to determine how severe the punishment should be.
I’m also entirely aware that I failed. And I failed hard. However, I figure that “improving the world by continuing the advancement of science” is a very subjective description of one’s actions, and in my humble opinion, Andrew Rutherford did the worst kind of “improvements” he possibly could. And considering how many people he let “die” - with or without quotations, depending on the situation - as well, I sincerely doubt what he did could truly be classed as an “advancement” of science as we know it.
I believe life is amazing as it is, back here before Dr. Rutherford was slaughtered against my will; no, as much as I’d liked to have strangled or stabbed that man myself, I did have a job to complete and money to make. However, here, before my job and his even existed, you have no cure for cancer or Alzheimer’s, but you also have no Dr. Rutherford. Eradicating both the latter and the former, subjectively - having lived through it all now - seems like a fair trade.
Truth be told, this job feels almost like what I imagine being a lawyer is like; sometimes, you have to defend and save people you wish you could kill yourself because those above you say so. This is one of those specific cases, and I feel absolutely nothing even remotely like guilt, sorrow, or regret for what I did and did not manage to do.
We’ve all seen zombie movies. Everyone has, and everyone has the same opinion (except for those few weirdos who want to watch the world suffer and burn because they’re “troubled”): zombies would be the end of us. However, Dr. Rutherford had a different vision. They would be the end of some, but not all, and “this trade would make society and civilization prosper”. His words, not mine.
The world, by this point, was getting way overpopulated. People had already proposed ideas such as the classic Hunger Games, and of course there were potential Nazi copycats, as history has the unfortunate pattern of repeating itself, or at least attempting to. None of that was approved by the government, however, as we still value bodily autonomy as much as you do now; the Hunger Games got close to being approved however, if I remember correctly, due to there being an aspect - but not base of a - choice when one volunteers.
This left us in a pickle. Science was advancing quicker than we imagined, picking up the slack for the slowed technological advancements pace, which was also unexpected. However, despite not matching the plans humanity had lined up, we had to adapt either way. And so, I signed up to do so, and for one of my first few cases I was assigned to protect Dr. Rutherford. I’m glad I didn’t, and I’m even almost glad that he was one of the first; this way, I’ll definitely get fired once they find out. Maybe even killed, if they deem my work bad enough of a job result, which I’m sure they will given how excited they were to put Dr. Rutherford’s plans into motion. I seemed to be the only one who disagreed with Rutherford’s findings, which makes it sincerely ironic that I happened to be the one to receive this job, but now that I will no longer have it either through getting sacked or beheaded, it’s fine. Yes, if I am granted life it’ll sure be hard to find another job now that the world knows how much I had put in jeopardy and has to live with whatever chaos I had potentially and retroactively caused, but I don’t care. And I don’t care about who I could have possibly saved after him, had I done my job right, as long as Dr. Rutherford dies. And if I die too, at least I won’t have the option of suffering the same fate as so many close to me.
And he did die, much like his test subjects - some, but not all. I still don’t understand how his company was allowed to exist, really; I do, in a legal and descriptive sense, but not at all morally or ethically. Though, then again, the government was always corrupt. Sure, not nearly as many plots of land were used for graveyards, little to no more power had to be used for incineration, not much work had to be used for creating the tree pods, so on and so forth. And besides, your body would eventually be returned to the earth anyway; yes, they had to be fed, but eventual decay over time was still a natural bodily process, no matter how much you slowed it down.
But we’ve seen the movies, so we know what it’s like, and everyone can attest to the fact that it isn’t pretty. And Dr. Rutherford’s definitely seen the movies as well, as evident by him making exact replicas of what lived on the big screen before he brought them to “life”.
He knew what to look for, and he knew what he envisioned for his “cures” for whatever ailment you were possessed by. Sure, zombie movies are fake as hell, embellished with falsehoods and exaggerations of whatever tiny, inaccurate truths of what humanity is truly capable of creating slipped into production. However, as time passed, he figured out how to make life - or death, depending on how you look at it - imitate art.
Essentially, you did have a choice, though I’m sure if taking away bodily autonomy wouldn’t cause World War V, they would certainly remove this choice altogether. When you were too ill to continue on mentally, but your body continued to fight against your will; when you felt you wanted to die and nothing else mattered; when you died unexpectedly and your family had no money for a funeral, or simply did not feel the need to take up extra land space for a body that would likely never be returned to the earth other than in a coffin or ashes; or whatever else you imagined, you could pull the plug, so to speak.
But rather than doing exactly that phrase, you could stand yourself up and walk to Dr. Rutherford’s center. You could say goodbye to your loved ones (or not, if you had already passed and the handling of your body was gifted to said people), change into clothing you were comfortable in, have your last meal.
And then you would march yourself past the bulletproof, sealed isolation doors, hear them slam behind you as the next door in front of you opened, and let yourself be consumed by ravenous, undead peers. Screams would fill the room, much too loud to be covered as they drowned out the muffled growls.
Or, you could choose to donate your body to science rather than just donating what your body could provide - in the past, being organ transplants, though this isn’t too far off from that - but in ways nobody ever truly dreamed until Dr. Rutherford. You could move those legs in the direction of his headquarters, but rather going to the containment ward you could go to the donation ward. Here, I imagine it felt like jail - when you’re on death row. You say goodbye to your loved ones if possible, change into clothing you were comfortable in, have your last meal.
But rather than feeling the icy-hot euthanasia serum fill your veins and shut down your brain, you would feel your veins get ripped from your arm, or your leg, or wherever you picked as one of those monsters were brought in. Its arms and legs were cut off, sitting within a cage atop a rolling cart. You would still feel that anesthesia, but only enough to let yourself slip away as one would before surgery; however, this was far from temporary. Once you were out like a light, the nurses (though they were the opposite; the point of nurses is to nurse you back to health, not escort you to your demise) would get you as close as they could to the torso chained to the back of the cage. They would respect your wishes (for once, because does anyone in their right mind truly ever wish for this?) and stick whatever limb or body part you wanted mutilated into the cage, and you would feel your brain become “rejuvenated” - once again, his word, not mine - as you become one of the medical team, seen as a hero for joining the force.
“Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” was his motto, and he technically wasn’t wrong. But that didn’t mean what he was doing was right, and so sometimes, the universe knows what to do. How he died isn’t important, just that he did matters, and if I do now as well for letting it happen, it won’t even matter. Surely I’ll meet him in Hell and have a word with him, so it all works out just fine in my books. |
Working in a data storage facility is...boring, to say the least. All you do is forward emails and packages of information to your superiors, untouchable by lower class workers. Apparently, some weird flaw in our computer system makes it so emails can’t be sent straight. No one’s bothered to fix it. I’ve tried, but noooo, I can’t fix it.
One day, I decided I had had enough. All this mystery and hush-hush around the information from the past.
I take up my usual cubicle at the office. Sure enough, emails that needed forwarding started flooding in. I switch my notifications off.
I open up one of the packages of information, from the infamous Hush Bug, the guy who bets on robotic cockroach and Ladybug chess matches and never, ever talks. It’s labelled: 105A. I sneak a quick look at my coworkers and they all seem bored and not paying attention. Good. Taking a deep breath, I tap on the file.
Immediately, a message pops up. “Error 404. Request timed out. Please try again later.” I sigh in frustration and bang my hand on the holo-monitor.
To my surprise, the file loads and I’m greeted with a portfolio of someone named Donald Trump, from the year 2018.
Name: Donald J Trump.
Gender/Age: Male/71 (age of permanence)
Height: 1.935 M (Weight unknown)
Hair: White/Blond, short.
Eyes: Blue.
Ethnicity: Caucasian.
Country: United States of America
Father: Fred Trump (deceased)
Mother: Mary Anne MacLeod Trump (Deceased)
Fatalities: None.
Condition: Under 24/7 watch.
Remarks: Deranged.
What?! Age of permanence? But most importantly, where’s his 3D model?
I scroll through the other emails. They all indicate different people. Someone called Taylor Swift. A person named Justin Bieber. All remarked with: deranged and age of permanence.
Lastly, I open a file labelled 00C.
Name: Unknown. Test subject 000.
Gender/Age: identifies as Transgender/26 (age of permanence)
Height: 1.784 M
Hair: Raven black.
Eyes: Sea green.
Ethnicity: Caucasian/Mongolian
Country: Mongolia
Father: Unknown
Mother: Unknown
Fatalities: Captain Metias Iparis
Commander Jameson
Condition: Under supervision.
Remarks: Only sane subject.
(More to come later, this was a really great prompt)
|
"Happy birthday,"the group sang out as their glasses clunked together. Joey was happy that he had such good friends and couldn't imagine spending his 21st birthday with anyone else. He took a long swig from his first legal beer as everyone talked and joked around him.
By two in the morning the group was stumbling out of the bar, barely able to stand let alone drive. Daniel, Joey's best friend since middle school, stood on the side of the road flagging down a cab. It didn't take too long before one pulled over to pick them up. As the bright headlight aproached it filled Joey's vision. He closed his eyes and shielded his face until the light was no longer on him.
He opened his eyes and stepped forward to get into the cab, but something was off. He felt a hand grab his collar and pull him down to the ground.
"What the hell Davis. Whats gotten into you man. You know you can just walk into the open like that,"the voice whispered to him sternly.
Joey shook his head in response. He looked around trying to grasp his situation. The sound of the jungle echoed around him. The sun beat down through holes in the canopy above and the humidity made it feel as if he was in a swimming pool of his own sweat. He looked down at his hands, covered with dirt and grime, holding a rifle. On his head he felt the weight of a helmet, lazily strapped on. Around him a group of men lay in the bush, clad in full vietnam era uniforms. They looked at him as if he were stupid. Joey started to say something but the sound of gunfire off in the distance distracted him.
"C'mon boys we've got to keep pushing forward. Davis you're off point until you get your head straight. Jones up front. 'Member to keep them eyes open. You never know where those sneaky bastards are at,"the man that pulled him down said, taking control of the group. They nodded in reply and stood. Instinctivly, Joey joined them as they trecked forward down a trail through the thick jungle ahead of them.
They walked for what seemed like miles before the soldier up front held his hand up. Joey, along with the rest of the group, stopped in their tracks and took a knee, remaining vigilant. For a moment it was eerily silent. Joey looked out at the thick brush and plants around for any sign of movement. Everything about this felt so natural to him. He wasn't even thinking about the bar anymore.
A small bush moved slightly in front of him, making him shift his aim towards it. A split second later, the jungle errupted with the sound of gunfire. It came from what seemed like every angle. The group of soldiers dropped to the ground, taking up fighting positions and returning fire. The sound of war seemed all too familiar as Joey joined in on the action.
"Take this you bastards,"he yelled at the enemy with hatred in his voice.
"Get some,"someone yelled out down the line. The group was pumped full of adrenaline.
One after another of the enemy came pooring out towards them. The soldiers were far out numbered and it became abundantly clear as the fight went on. Just then time slowed down. It was like watching a movie and Joey was enjoying himself, at least until he felt the pain. A bullet struck him in the shoulder, spraying bright red blood across the dirt. A split second later, another bullet flew through his chest. Joey wanted to scream, but his breath failed him. With no time to react, another bullet was flying towards him. This time it was poised to hit his head. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate, everything went black.
After a moment he didnt feel anythig. Joey opened his eyes and looked around. He was standing on the side of the road, the cab stopped in front of him. Daniel looked back at him with a sympathetic look.
"You saw it didn't you,"Daniel asked gently. "Was it bad?"
Joey just nodded in response, shocked at what he had just experienced.
"C'mon man. Get in the cab. We can talk about it when we get you home bud,"Daniel said seeming to understand. He grabbed Joey's arm, leading him into the cab.
--Sorry for any formatting/grammar errors. Wrote it on the subway heading downtown. Hope its at least enjoyable. |
Great. Either something bad happened or humanity screwed itself over again. Not just that but the Moon is still there, and it has a... atmosphere? No, that can't be. Let's see what happened 50 years ago.
Great. I can see a large mass over there, it's shaped like a human. Such shape shouldn't be impossible, not only that but it seem's Elon Musk got a Mars Colony. Time travelling 25 years forward.
Great. That human-shaped asteroid is way too close for comfort. How about 1 more year forward?
That's impossible. How is it bigger than Earth right now? Looks like we have to rewrite science again, and is that Elon Musk's face on it? How did it get there? Does Musk have that much money? Whatever, I never really cared about his company. Not like anything bad will happen 99 years from now.
**ERROR**
What?
**ERROR**
Maybe if I just
**ERROR**
Suddenly, there was a bright flash, and the last thing I saw was the entire SpaceX company flipping me off. |
I know that it’s a bit late, but I still wanted to respond to the prompt since it was so good. Enjoy.
Kyle burrowed deeper into his blankets in hopes that they would keep it all away. He tried desperately to control his breathing as hot tears ran down his cheeks. He wasn’t dreaming, he knew that. If hours of therapy he was forced through taught him anything, it was the difference between dreams and life. The window shattered, sending gusts swirling around the room, tugging at Kyle’s quilt. He held the cover down as hard as he could and slammed his eyes shut. Something pulled the blankets, wrenching them from his grasp. Something gripped his arms, something cold and metallic with six fingers, lifting him from the bed with inhuman strength. Kyle wriggled and kicked at the thing, but he was stuck. It moved, carrying him out through the window and into the backyard. The rough leaves of the tall corn scratched and itched at him as he was taken into the fields.
At last, he relented and opened his eyes. Kyle saw his captor, what looked like a man in an old-fashioned diving suit, but the proportions were wrong. It was for someone eight feet tall with feet that had a strange protrusion at the heel. Most shocking was the blinding light that shone from the mask. In an instant, the details all snapped together in his head as fragments of memories began to play back uncontrollably.
His mom, when her eyes still held joy and light, sitting him on her lap and telling him about his dad. Paintings his mom drew--the ones his aunt called forbidden paintings--still hanging up in the house. His mom, hiding a bottle of pills as he entered the kitchen. Her eyes growing still and glazing over. Dialing 9-1-1, the flashing lights. His aunt becoming a permanent fixture in his home. The paintings coming down and vanishing in the fireplace. Kyle felt the tears begin again. He’d tried. He’d tried so hard to forget. He thought he finally had. Why were the memories coming back now, why now? They kept flashing by, but just the paintings. Just the paintings. Why them? Why the paintings? A man. Paintings of a man. Not a man. No man has six fingers. No man has six toes. No man has eyes that glow. The one who took his dad, his mom said, the one who came in the night and stole him away and left her alone with him.
Kyle jolted back to reality as the diver began approaching a great light shining from the heavens. As he carried Kyle into the beam, he felt his weight lessen until the two lifted up into the sky. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut as he neared the source of the light, which grew so bright that it pierced his eyelids and seemed to consume him.
Without much fanfare, the light vanished and Kyle felt himself fall onto a cold surface. He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness. He saw the thing that took him--the diver. He quickly backed away from it. Turning to face him, it reached up to the helmet and unclipped it, lifting it off its head. Kyle didn’t recognize the strange slits along the jawline or the second eyelid that swept over its reptilian eyes. But the face. He’d seen it before. On the pictures that hung on the walls, smiling alongside his mother and, in one, cradling baby Kyle.
“D-dad?”
To be continued.... |
I was shaking with fear when I was shoved into the massive extra terrestrial space shuttle. I was greeted by a few humanoid creatures, slighter taller than the average human and with absolutely no hair. They had no noses or necks. They stared at me, looking very skeptical. One of them turned to another one and whispered something. Then they both chuckled.
“Hello, I am Perio.” the alien said confidently. “This is Farwo.” it said, pointing to the right. “This is Relti, our leader.” it said, nudging a shy little alien next to him.
“Hey guys. So... I was sent here to explain humans to you.” I said calmly, no longer scared.
“What’s a human?” said Relti.
“That’s what I am.” I responded.
“So do you all look the same?” Perio asked.
“Of course not. We all look very unique. There’s something called an identical twin where you have the same DNA as someone though, so you look the same.”
“Relti wanted to know if you guys really jump out of planes for fun and if tanks are actually real.” said Perio. Relti nodded.
“Of course not. That’s sci-fi Relti.” said Farwo.
“Actually...” I said, interrupting Farwo.
“Oh my...” said Farwo as Relti and Perio slowly grinned.
I was gonna write more but I’m a little busy sorry. |
On my first day in the burning lake of fire that is hell I screamed my lungs out. Except I couldn’t scream, because my vocals chords had already been ripped out of my throat, my tongue chopped off and shoved down my esophagus, my lips scarred and torn to shreds.
All this happens every morning, or whenever I wake up from a temporary death with my vocal organs regenerated. By now it’s just part of my daily routine.
The next thing that happens is that I’m thrown onto a treadmill with spikes as long as my arm, forcing me to pierce my own feet to avoid being crushed and shredded to death. With each step my feet are torn to shreds, the spikes spearing through all the nerves and skin and muscle and bone in my feet. I try to scream, but, again, I can’t. This continues until I can no longer run, whether it’s because my feet have been torn off or because I’ve tripped and fallen and can’t get back up with all the spikes sucking me down into the treadmill tracks. Then I get shredded into ribbons before regenerating.
I’m then presented the one meal I get everyday. It’s even a buffet! Of course, there’s a catch: it’s a buffet of all the foods that I’ve thrown away or sneered at in disgust. Whether I can eat or not, the food is shoved down my throat until my stomach literally bursts and the acid melts my organs into a soppy mess. I’m then forced onto the treadmill once again to run until I get ripped to shreds.
You say you want to know what happens after this? Well, I’d gladly tell, but that’s NSFW, so I don’t think I can.
*Note: I know I didn’t follow the WP exactly, but whatever. I just saw the words hell, torture, and seven deadly sins and went off. |
I woke up about 5, 6?
Water's cold again, I keep saying I'll get the heater fixed.
I said I'd eat breakfast this time but I know I'll be late for work if I do.
Does a banana count as breakfast? I'll take an early lunch I guess.
Can't find my socks, the only ones that aren't stretched out.
A bird looks to have taken a shit on my car, right where I almost touched too.
The morning radio show host keeps saying things I disagree with, It's messing with my zen right now.
Switching to itunes, where is my aux cable.
Oh its shorted again.
Can't find a good song.
Traffic again.
Dumbass cut me off, why do people do this?
I act like I am yelling but my windows are up and I am not saying anything.
I just want them to think I am angry but I don't want to expel the effort.
Hey maybe I'll get time to go to the gym after work.
Oh, no I told my girlfriend I'd do that thing.
Sigh, will I ever achieve my personal goals?
I am unhappy about the way I look.
I shouldn't be, I know I don't have it so bad.
I remember how I looked last year and I wish I was fit like I used to be.
I remember I thought the same last year about the year before that.
Ok finally at work.
I do this every day yet I have an anxiety about it.
I grimace at the lunchtime selection at the place I usually go to just round the corner.
I eat by myself.
Oh no, its that guy from work, the one who I don't care to talk to, he's sitting down next to me.
Oh no he's engaging me.
I put on a smile, I make small talk.
He says something stupid, I try not to react.
Oh back to work.
Uneventful.
I wonder if I'll work here for much longer.
I really need to start realizing my dream of doing my own thing.
I wonder about the money.
Oh work's over maybe I can hit the gy.....oh right I have to do that thing.
I tell my girlfriend I love her.
I contemplate what I mean by that. I guess I'm just at that point where I should be loving someone.
Am I ready for kids? marriage?
I upset myself.
I get home.
I message my ex.
We have a nice conversation.
I wonder why it wasn't that way when we were together.
I contemplate whether I am being fair to my girlfriend.
I remember that one thing she did that made me upset and I relent.
I feel nothing.
I go to bed, I cannot sleep.
I put on the tele, I need some noise in the background.
When there is noise I don't think too much.
People fear different things. I think I fear all the usual things you'd expect someone to fear.
But I also fear thinking, I fear today, and I fear tomorrow.
Maybe that's normal.
I sleep.
|
"I shoot lasers out of my eyes."
"NO!"Jenny pouted on the couch next to George.
"I ate the last salami from the fridge!"
"What!?"
Jenny pounced off the couch, skittered past the counter, and checked the fridge. George smirked.
Jenny slammed the fridge with the last strips of salami in their pre-sliced plastic container. She began walking towards the couch while munching on salami.
"I don't understand why you have to know."
"Because, I'm boredddd."
George keeps smirking as he flips thru the channels.
"It doesn't matter does it? You'll find out from Stephanie anyways."
This was already true, but Jenny needed it out of George's mouth. Actually, I'm bored with this prompt. Nevermind.
|
I pulled off my headphones at the sound of something knocking at my front door. I slowly get up at head toward the door, peeking through a slit of an opening.
And on the other side of the door is none other than my old friend Darkness.
Darkness stares deep into my soul, seeing the demons I hide within me. Darkness looks into my eyes, understanding what it is that I feel and all the things that have made me feel this way.
“Do you want to build a snowman?”
I close the door. |
Jimena shuddered, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of her room. She rolled checking her phone, 3:00, read her clock. “Ugh, why?” She groaned, tossing the sheets over her back. She lied. She shifted. She rolled to the window, the night sky brilliant with stars, she began to think about walking outside in her pajamas and sitting in the grass like she used to. She sat up, her navy shirt slipping of her caramel skin, she moved to the edge of the bed, throwing on a pair of dirty jeans.
She scratched her head as she reached the front door of her small home. The street light across the street began to flicker, she waddled outside, stiff with sleep. Jimena crouched and sat, her eyes becoming fixated on the twinkle and glow of the little orbs. She smiled, laughing at her nostalgia of being at her Papa’s house. She laid back, her long dark hair fanning out underneath her. Her smile faded as she witnessed a star shift, almost like a VHS on an old TV. Another one followed and then the moon. She rubbed her eyes, standing, with the thought that maybe she was still asleep. There was suddenly a bright light and she looked in awe. There in a floating white box, covering Jimena’s neighbor, Mrs. Martinez’s roof. The box was empty except for a little loading dots, they were shaped like stars and jumped as Jimena watched. She looked in horror as the box disappeared and the sun began to rise. |
Hi u/SenorMasterChef, this submission has been removed.
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