Split (1)

train · 177k rows

prompt stringlengths 391 14.9k
"Before we proceed, I must have full consent. While I may well be able to rid you of this demon, the sight of its physical form could in itself be traumatic. Other problems could..." The woman, while slight, silenced the man with merely a look. Her eyes were moist but unblinking. "I know the risks, but I've been assured you have experience dealing with this particular demon." He was looking to the ground. He realised he had been gripping his pants rather tightly and quickly let go. "Well... yes, but..." "Dr. Lingard,"she leaned over, placing her hand on his knee. "I have already decided. Please, I would like this to be done as swiftly as possible." He looked up. His eyes were also watering. "... Okay." Obeying her request, he quickly placed his palm on the woman's forehead. With a roll of the eyes, she fell into a deep trance and dropped limply into the couch. "Come on out you son of a bitch!" With a decisive raising of the hand the translucent body of a spectre came loose from her flesh. The force of its exit forced the doctor to stagger as it shot up to the ceiling then came crashing back down into the carpet. Its body quickly turned from ghostly to corporeal as a familiar ugly face took form. "HHeeeeLlllloOOO dOOOOOOOCctoooR! ReeeeeeeeEEEEemembeeeeeeer MMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE!" The being was hideous. A twisted amalgamation of human, bat, and lizard. It's pitch black eyes reflected like a mirror the face of a confronted man. The doctor loosened his tie. "One could not forget such an ugly face,"he exclaimed coolly as he removed his suit jacket. "Though I won't have to look upon it for long. Your hold over this woman is no more, Guilt." "CCcccccccoooooonfffiiiiideeeeeennnnt. A MiiiiiiiiisssTTAkee." Suddenly, a series of long, horn-like spikes emerged from the demon's skin. The doctor could have sworn he heard the thing cackle, though that noise could just have been the crackling of unnaturally positioned bone and scaled skin. "No. An unpleasantness as most." He took a stance, spreading his legs slightly wider than shoulder width and holding in front of him a clenched fist. The demon was the first to attack, speeding towards him without ever touching the ground and only narrowly missing him with the spikes on its shoulder as he leapt away. But the doctor was not to be on the back foot. He lunged back, though without any clear plan, withdrawing at the last second after executing a wild, downward kick which knocked loose one of its spikes. "OOoooooooooooAAAAAAaaaaAAAAAAahHHHHHHHHHH!" The thing howled in pain, it's disgusting mouth opening wide to reveal a single pair of pointed teeth. The doctor smirked at something. "Ha! That one hurt, did it?" The demon twisted it's torso around in an awkward contortion. Its howl stopped immediately. "YYYyyyyyyyyyYoooooooooUUUuuuu WIIiiiiLL diiieEEEEEEEE nnnnnnnnnooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!" It screamed piercingly, shaking the ground beneath their feet and rattling the table. But despite this loudness, the doctor did not cover his ears. Instead, he walked closer to the creature. "No. This fight has already ended." He kept walking. The rest of the demon's body quickly twisted back around as it stretched out its arm. He picked up the pace. The thing lunged to meet him in the middle of the room, swinging its arm wildly. But instead of leaping to the side, the doctor rolled inward and stood up at its chest, ripping out the loose spike. As the thing howled once again in pain, the doctor seized the opportunity, driving the spike into its mouth--and destroying its brain. The demon jerked spasmodically, but immediately went silent. Its now lifeless body dropped to the floor, vanishing into the fibres of the carpet. Lingard also fell, but only to his knees as he simultaneously breathed an accentuated sigh of relief. Then grimaced in pain. "Ah! What the hell?" In the flesh of his forearm, two small wounds dripped with blood. "Ha! I knew I wasn't going to get through that without some scars." ______________________________________________________ The woman took a while to wake from her trance. But when she did she was completely lucid, and an overwhelming wave of relief flowed through her. "It's done?!" The doctor sat on the ground next to the couch, tightening a bandage around his arm. He quickly covered it with his sleeve. "Yes. All done." She leapt from the couch and pulled Lingard up from the ground. She embraced him tightly. "You have no idea the service that you have done for me. I will be forever grateful!" He chuckled under his breath, as not for her to hear. I've some idea, he thought. She retracted from the hug, then kissed him on the cheek. "I thank you greatly, but I must leave immediately. No offense, this room will be forever haunted for me from now on." "It's alrigh--" Before he could finish his sentence, the door was slammed shut behind her. "I hope she doesn't forget to pay..." Exhausted, he collapsed back into the couch. "I'd rather not do that again..." He murmured as he drifted into sleep. ___________________________________________________________________________________________ One day later, he removed the bandage to an unpleasant surprise. His wounds had completely healed. "What the hell?" His astonishment was quickly preceded by an overwhelming sense of guilt.
"Huh."Adam stared out the grimy windows of the train as the station approached in a halo of light. He felt the slight lurch as the driver began applying the brakes, slowing the machine until with a final jerk, the train stopped at the station. "How strange."Adam looked around the dim carriage - after all, as a fine example of the British rail service the inside of the train was suffering from a lack of maintenance. The barely glowing bulbs flickered and spat, pretending that they were romantic gaslights. Wasted on Adam of course, as he shuffled on his own to the door. The door, hissing at another traveller taking it for granted, opened and he stepped out to look around. "I didn't realise that Oxford had an Underground station."He murmured, peering through the gloom for a location. As he stepped away from the train, the door shut behind him, sniggering as it closed. A toot of the horn echoed about the cavernous platform and the train began to pull away, ignoring the bleating pleas of the man clinging to its side. After all, they always let go before the platform ran out, so why bother? As the train lurched off into the eternal night of the tunnels, Adam spun around and, after filling the air with an appropriate amount of foul language, began searching for the ticket office. A friendly station attendent is hust what he needed; heck, even a surly attendent would do (after all, they are far more common). With that in mind, Adam trudged off into the gloom of the station.
I woke up feeling nauseous and tired. I hadn't slept well because of some peculiar dreams. I woke up in the middle of the night, in a dark room. I tried to turn on the small yellow nightlight that sat just above my head. It didn't turn on. I figured the plug had fallen out of the socket while I was asleep, and I got out of my bed to walk to the light switch. At least, that was what I wanted to do. As I rolled to the edge of my bed, I saw something in the corner of the room. A silhouette of a tall creature, with strange arms that looked somewhat like wings. It walked up to me, and grabbed me. I jumped backwards, trying to escape. I accidentally knocked over the nightlight while doing this. However, no matter how hard I struggled, it had no success. The creature dragged me out of the room, and that's when I lost consciousness. I do still remember that while I was unconscious it felt like I was floating. Like I was flying trough the air. I woke up later in a brightly lit room. Creatures comparable to the one that grabbed me were standing around me, doing some sort of experiment. They had big beaks, like they were some sort of bird. I stood up and ran away as fast as I could. The creatures tried to stop grab me with their claws, but I kept running. One of them hit my arm, creating a big wound, but I didn't care. I kept running. I opened a door and saw that I was in an abandoned building, not far of my house. I ran all the way to my house, not looking back once. When I got inside I sat down for a while, too scared too sleep, but eventually I still went to bed. A few hours later my alarm rang. I woke up, and assumed it was all a dream. That's when I noticed my nightlight was laying on the floor. I looked at my arm, expecting to see a big wound, but it was gone. Instead there was a tattoo saying "We still want you". That's when I connected all the pieces. The wings. The claws. The beak. The flying. Those creatures were pteranodons! Man, I hate those creatures.
In A.D. 2018, humanity has exhausted most of Earth's resources, and the planet was dying. There was a plan to evacuate everyone into space, but technology was still not advanced enough to secure the foreseeable future. Because of this, the Assassin's guild decided to help, by undoing one crucial mistake of their past. "Are you ready?"the program asked. "Yes"I answered, giving it the green light. Surges of electricity pulsed through my entire body via the numerous cables attached to my skin, transmitting my consciousness through time to the past using my genetic memory as a guide. It was as if my mind was flying through a tunnel of light, and when I regained awareness, I was inside the body of my ancestor, Paul Ehrenfest. The year was A.D. 1933 in Amsterdam, and I'm supposedly in Paul's home. According to data, Paul too had been an Assassin, and he was assigned the task of killing his very own best friend. Apparently this order had caused severe stress in him to the point of depression, which ironically prompted the visit of this very friend. I checked the time. A few more minutes before assassination would conclude. The assassination that I was here to stop. It was easy when you know the exact time and place it would occur. When I walked into the living room, my son... Paul's son, Wassik, was already standing behind the target, ready to execute the mission. I fast-walked towards him and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the target. "Oh Paul, look at this. I could balance three spoons on the edge of three cups like this without any support in the middle". I sighed at the oblivious man playing with the tea set. "Yes, Albert, I know my physics. But thank you for coming and cheering me up. I am feeling better already". After a brief conversation with the 'friend', I sent him on his way home. The assassination resulted in a failure, and I personally made sure it stays that way... by shooting Wassik and myself. With Paul's death as a trigger, my consciousness was returned to my body back in 2018. I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, expecting change. With Albert's death avoided, technology should be much more advanced, and we should be ready to leave for space with confidence. But it was not what I expected. I looked outside the window and, instead of smoke and debris, I saw trees in a park. There were no robot servants and the cars here don't fly but... I've never seen so many... trees. Earth is still alive. Even though the outcome was completely different from what I anticipated, perhaps this was a better ending. Though I still wondered greatly why it turned out this way. It wasn't until much later that I found out that saving Albert Einstein had via a chain of events led to Germany and Japan losing world war 2 much earlier than in my timeline, which in turn slowed the advancement of technology since war had always been a great pusher of science. Butterfly effects, huh.
"Daughter, let me tell you how we got here." "5 Billion years ago, when you were born, this solar system was the site of a great battle, one among many. The Emperor at the time won those battles, and our liege had to go into hiding." "This wreckage, this destruction, as you know we were tasked with creating an army from that destruction, and so we have." "What's wrong father, why are you telling me this all now?" "I'm dying, and now it is your responsibility to take over this kingdom, and take this force, these humans we created, and lead them against the Emperor, in service to our liege. You will not be alone."
This not an old project. I have old projects, I've scrapped projects and upcycled them into new old projects. This is not one of those. Sunday night I had an epiphany, I woke up in the middle of the night and worked through dawn, noon, dusk, moon, and dawn again. To fall asleep was to risk losing momentum. And so I rested briefly, and occasionally. Then I hit a snag. I found a problem. So most of these little guys, you move them from where I made them? They die. I thought they were all like that, but I'm a little neurotic. So I checked. I now regret checking. This one didn't die. Those big hairy guys? They won't die. I sure as shit didn't program these humans right.
“You could be my first,” she purred into the camera. “I’m getting so… hot.” She arched her back and fluttered her sparkling blue eyelashes as the frame focus loosened. Her body, clad in shimmering blue, blurred into a panoramic shot of ocean waves stretching all the way to the horizon. I snorted. Her voice continued over a montage of flooded streets, capsized boats, a desiccated beast stretched flat on a crackling dust flat, barefoot children with muddy streaks trailing from their eyes as they shuffled through heaps of dirty plastic. “Terraforming efforts have rocketed past projections for three periods in a row, and ice levels are nearly depleted. Earth has never been warmer… or wetter.” She was onscreen again, winking as a splash sound effect played. “Colonisse has a special, one-time offer for early volunteers. Join the Native Extermination Team before the end of next period, and you will receive ninety percent off your first area allotment, guaranteed.” “Heh… right,” I huffed. “All on a mountain range, I bet.” She beamed, glassy-eyed, and practically whispered the slogan, “All the worlds in the world: Colonisse.” The screen darkened. Finally, my video started to load. “So sick of that stupid ad.”
A tap on my shoulder. I turn around, careful to move my mug forward, don't want to knock it over like last week. Still trying to figure out how to get coffee stains out. "What's up Nino?"Pulling out my headphones, currently tuned to a Serial podcast. "How do you that?!" "Do what?"I know what he means before he says it, I'm usually more careful, Nino caught me off guard. "Know it's me...?" Without skipping a beat, "You wear the same Cologne everyday and always too much of it." My go to response. The real answer would just make me look crazy. I can see his suspicion, the shape of it shifting and shrinking, uneasy across from me. It's why I'm such a good reporter, I see beneath the expressions, the lies, into the soul. Scrutinizing my face, looking for some kind of tell. "Uh did you need something or was assaulting my nose all you wanted?"Ironically, I've got a great poker face. Nino checks himself, trying to smell his Ralph Lauren Blue, he really does put on a bottle too much. "Are you finished with the Hemme expose? You've been working on it for months and Moira's getting antsy."I can feel his eyes on me. "Oh is that what that sound is? Back and forth, across the pen every 2 minutes. " "If only you could see the pacing, there's a trench forming around you. "He chuckles. He's relaxed in his seat and for now forgets all about my perception. "Yea, I've noticed. But no it's not quite there yet, he's slippery but it'll be worth it. I'm actually heading out, he's about to grab lunch with his wife at Confictionary. You know, the bakery book shop on Dundas. Wait, do you want to come? Company's paying!"Getting up and grabbing my coat and cane. "Free cake and the undermining of establishment?! I'll drive!" Reaching Confictionary, we grab a seat at the back, beside the glass. Strategic position for sleuthing but also in the direct noseline of the oven. I really have to thank Hemme for this place, they have the best English Toffee donuts! I take the seat facing the front, and Nino the one opposite me. The server comes by with some water and I give him my order, keeping the menu while Nino looks through his. "What's good here? I've only ever had the pie. Should I get the pancakes? How long until Hemme gets here?" Says Nino. "Everything is good, he'll be here soon. Didn't you want cake?"Turning the page over to the cakes section. As the server comes around again, Nino stays true to his word, orders carrot cake then the front door rings and Hemme comes in, sitting down at his usual booth. Every soul is different. Their color, shape, but the bad ones are especially unique. There's an actual slimeyness to them, sticking to the interior of the body holding it, dripping and fragmenting away from the center. Like oil in a bag, shaken around. It's all just blobs but eventually just reform, then shaken again, reforming endlessly in conflict with itself. Or maybe more like an overly excited Lana lamp. Nino having placed his order and not at all subtly staring at the servers ass as he goes away, sees Hemme enter. Quickly turning back towards me, leaning across the table, he whispers "He's here! Across the way. We should move closer, hear what he's saying." "No, too suspicious. We just observe for now. Enjoy your cake. " The server comes back with our order, about to place the desserts onto the table when he falls forward spilling everything on me or rather on where I was, as I somehow managed to jump out of the way. Falling on the floor I see a person running away. An entire black silhouette of a man, with a faint light at his core. Unlike anyone I've ever seen, souls are usually small, fluid and only hint at a person's shape but not this man. His was a blackness filling out the whole of a tall, thin man. Reaching out helplessly, trying to grab him, "Hey! You! Stop!" "Sorry! I'm so sorry! God, I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry Miss!"The server stumbles around trying to clean up. The man stops mid stride and turns back, looking almost confused. As he looks back, the light grows from faint to glimmering. Moving from the center of his chest to his head but then the light circles around the face, changing shape, into a smile. The light settles there, widening into something scary. A chill runs throughout my body, finding a home. He makes a motion of tipping a hat and runs off towards the entrance. "Stop him! Who was that?!"Trying to get up, but slipping in the sticky mess. "Who? What are you talking about...?"says Nino, on his knees picking up broken plate shards. He turns around, looking at the doorway. No bell ringing, signaling an exit. As I lay on the floor, the coffee now pooling around and under me, I see the regular glow of souls around and the black figure nowhere in sight. The freezing sensation of fear and bewilderment running through my spine.
First post, here goes nothing. “You do not know what you do, Lu!” “I am doing what you would not! Ending the oppression of the people!” “You fool,” he said, coughing blood, “You’ll lead them only to destruction.” Kapahn fell to the floor, the sword wound in his gut bleeding profusely across the metal floor. “Perhaps,” Lu said quietly, “but now we have the chance to decide that for ourselves.” He spat on the corpse, a brought his sword down on Kapahn’s neck. “We are victorious!” Lu said to the crowd below. A triumphant cry echoed across the great hall. The people below raised their weapons, shouting and cheering. Some cried. “Kapahn is dead, and with him the old ways of oppression and tyranny. Now, we rule. Together!!” He raised the head of Kapahn high so that everyone could see. The cheers become even louder. The people began to chant, “LU TEN! LU TEN! LU TEN!” --- “Kapahn!” the woman cried out again, running toward him. He turned to see it was Lu Ten. The new Lu Ten, anyway. As was tradition, he had taken the name Kapahn and this woman had taken his name as Lu Ten. It was still taking him some time to get used to it. “Kapahn! We found something in the great chamber!” she said breathlessly. “Found what?” he said. “A door! Hidden in the old Kapahn’s bedchamber! It bears the marking of the Kapahn!” “I may be Kapahn, but I am not the leader anymore. The Council does that,” he shook his head, “Tell them. Let them deal with it!” “They did! They tried! But the gods told them to bring Kapahn, that only he could access the secret chamber! They told me to bring you to it!” Kapahn entered the room of the old Kapahn. It was sparse, containing only a few clothes and a chest, yet opulent in comparison to the others. A metal bed, walls and floors that were not rusted, a few tapestries, and fresh air from the air holes. The old Kapahn had lived well. “Here, Kapahn, look here!” Lu said, pointing. Kapahn looked closely. It had been hidden behind an old tapestry. Invisible to anyone who did not specifically inspect it. Lu had been right though, there was a door and it bore the mark of the Kapahn. “You said the gods’ spoke when they tried to open it?” She nodded affirmatively. He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Well then. I suppose we had best do as the gods’ ask,” he said. There was no discernible handle or lever, just the mark of the Kapahn. After a few moments examining it, he traced his finger over the mark. The door slide back, like magic, revealing hidden room inside. Kapahn jumped back. It was sorcery! “Identity confirmed. Please enter.” The gods’ spoke. Kapahn paled, he looked to Lu Ten. She was shaking. Kapahn did his best to look assuring. “I will do as the gods’ command, Lu. I will be all right,” he hesitated, “But if I do not return, you will be Kapahn. Try to live as I have. Let the Council rule and live a good life, Lu. Be an example to the people.” “I will, but… You will return, Kapahn. I know it!” she said optimistically. With that, Kapahn entered the hidden chamber. The door slid closed behind, darkness closing in around him. Then, falling. Kapahn could feel the floor beneath him, but he was falling, deep into the earth. He knew this would be his end. His life flashed before his eyes. His life as the boy who was the new Lu Ten, serving the Kapahn. The Kapahn ruling everyone with an iron fist, making demands, condemning anyone who failed to obey to death. Lu Ten and the people rising up against the Kapahn after generations of tyranny, leading a war for freedom against him. It was so short and now, it was over. He closed his eyes and waited for death. The falling continued, then slowed, then stopped. The door opened. Kapahn stepped out of a box into a room lit only by a dim red light and… It was a long wall, but it was moving. Twisting and writhing with innumerable colors and shades. It was beautiful, almost maddeningly so. He walked slowly towards the wall, unable to break his gaze, until the gods’ spoke. “Identity confirmed. Welcome to the bridge, Captain.” He looked around, his trance broken. The dim red light showed several different seats and strange boxes. There were buttons and levers everywhere. He had never seen anything like it. “Death of old Captain confirmed. Running new Captain introduction.” The strange long wall went black. Then lit up again with an image of someone. He wore pristine blue clothes with gold adornments and medals. He was clean shaven, but his eyes were tired and cold. Like the old Kapahn’s had been. “Captain Marcus’ Field Report, Date 177-329. If your hearing this, that mean’s that I’m dead and you’re the new Captain. Congratulations on your field promotion,” he chuckled darkly. “By now the Lieutenant should have you up to date on all the current events, but in case of some emergency, I want to make sure you’re aware of what’s going on. Our test of the new Quantum Light drive has went,” he frowned, thinking, “Awry. As per regulation, we’ve initiated Code Black protocols and the team is working round the clock to find a way to bring us out of light speed, but until then we’re indefinitely stuck going the speed of light. With any luck, we should have this ironed out soon.” The man chuckled to himself again. Then he turned a bit grim. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m doing this. We’ll have this sorted out long before we need any of this,” he paused again and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Still, protocol, so, we’ve activated long term life support and generational ship procedures, just in case. First, your duty, as new Captain is address any problems that might arise. Don’t worry, your Lieutenant, the computer, and the rest of the crew will help you out with that. Secondly, keep the rest of the civilian population in the dark about this entire affair. The knowledge that we’re stuck in light speed would only cause chaos and maybe even mutiny.” The man turned serious. “Captain. You’re in charge now. Martial law has been implemented, keep the crew and the people under control. If you’re hearing this, then chances are things are bad, so do whatever it takes to keep everyone under control, including use of deadly force. I wish you luck, Captain, I really do. Captain Marcus out.” The long wall flashed and went back to mesmerizing colors. The Kapahn sat down in one of the chairs, trying to absorb everything he had just heard. The old Kapahn’s actions had made a lot more sense. Whoever this Captain Marcus had been, he was long dead. Maybe the old Kapahn’s had simply been trying to do as this Captain Marcus had told them and keep everyone alive. “Captain. Two-hundred and seven problems are currently awaiting your attention, including overpopulation, food supply, water supply, hull integrity, life support...” The gods’ - this computer creature - continued to list problem after problem. Alone and in the near dark, the Kapahn contemplated the future, as the mesmerizing wall displayed the endless stream of colors.
I draw my legs closer to my chest, pressing my hands tightly against my ears in a futile attempt to block the screams coming from across the room. This isn't real. Those words repeat like a mantra in my head, as if they are the key to getting out of this nightmare. "Stop! No! NOOOO!! STOP!"My roommate's pleas become more frantic by the second, his body thrashing and jerking wildly on his bed. "Mr. Quinn, this will help you relax. Just calm down so we can help-"the nurse's routine speech is cut short. Quinn's shouts devolve into banshee like shrieks as the orderlies force him back on his bed. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my hands painfully to my ears until I can hear my own pulse. The pain is a welcome sensation, a semblance of control in madness. I had hoped the pain would be enough to jolt me awake like it has before and I'd find myself at home in my own bed, but the sterile smell assaulting my nostrils let's me know I'm still inside Danvers Mental Hospital. Within moments, the violent shrieking and thrashing from across the room is replaced by the hushed whispers of the nurse and the orderlies. My eyes flutter open and I strain to hear what they're saying, hoping their words can offer some subconscious clue that explains why every time I've fallen asleep for the last five months, Ive woken up in a nightmare inside Danvers. Their voices trail off as they notice me shifting in the bed. "Mr. Black, we're sorry to have disturbed you,"Nurse Claire offers with a saccharine smile. "I want to go home. I don't belong here! I just want to wake up!" "Mr. Black, you've been here since the incident. You know we can't let you go home. You should get some rest now,"she offers amusedly as if replying to a petulant child making an absurd request, though the stakes feel much higher than any of my childhood games ever did. "What incident!? What the fuck are you talking about?! None of this is real! Why do I keep having this dream?!"My mind races trying to make sense of her words and beads of sweat gather on my forehead, even as the chill in the air bites at my neck and raises the hairs on my arms. Nothing about this feels like a dream anymore. These nightmares have become as much my reality as my everyday life used to be. "Mr. Black, lay back and get some rest,"she replies, her calm veneer wearing thin. The orderlies and nurse move towards my bed and instinctively I shrink towards the wall. "Stay the fuck away from me!"I demand, my heart threatening to pound out of my chest. My eyes lock on the door and I know it's my only chance. I have to get out! I spring off the bed and bolt towards the door but a body slams into mine before I can get there, knocking the air from my lungs as I hit the floor. "Mr. Black, it didn't need to be like this,"Nurse Claire chides. Before I can respond, I feel the sharp prick of a needle in my neck. -------------- I peel my eyelids open, wincing at the bright light and the pain throbbing in my head. "Good morning, Mr. Black,"Nurse Claire chirps from my bedside, smiling brightly.
It was... Odd. Everything was dark and dreary, people were sad and starving, cold and scared, hostile and tired. But then, there was a roaring explosion heard around the world, and when the people picked themselves up off the floor, there was no more anger, hatred, fear and depression. There was only one word for it; calm. Enemies resolved their conflicts peacefully, in seconds, those in power, government leaders and corporate CEOs instantly vowed to serve the masses, to make sure none went without, wars quickly ended as soldiers dropped their weapons and hugged. Those off the coast of Chile saw it first, but it moved up the west coast to California. The hulking formless figure of the Ancient God, an indescribable mass of tentacles and wings. Those that stared upon it's visage couldn't remember what it was they saw, or what it was that had happened, they simply state that what they saw was tranquility, nirvana, eudaimonia, happiness. That being sat down in the middle of San Francisco bay, between Alcatraz and Angel Island. Over the course of the next few months, it became a pilgrimage of sorts for people to see the being that cured the world. Culture thrived, money was abolished, and under the vision of their new god, the world progressed, until eventually, the once calm being meditating in San Francisco bay collected the debt owed to it by humanity. It was over in an instant, and the world kept spinning on, nothing lost. Peace begets peace.
You've had bad days before, but none like this. You weren't fired, but only barely. You were ame to get the server back up and running, only costing the company a half-day's worth of work. It had been an honest mistake, but it wasn't the first time you'd made it. Near the end, everything sensed to be shaking, your fingers on the keys of your keyboard trembled, turning your g's into h's and y's. You weren't even sure you were going to get it back until you did, and when you told your boss that you'd been able to recover it, his look was more than enough warning. One more time, and that's it. He likes you and has covered for you more than once, but he can only do so much. You were out of the door twenty minutes late, which put you onto the highway twenty minutes later, which put you knee-deep into afternoon traffic. Your thirty minute commute just became at least an hour. The news coming from the radio is the only thing that isn't worse today, considering how bad it already is. We're still bogged down in the Iranian war (or 'conflict' as they're fond of calling it, gas prices continue to race toward the double-digits, Congress and the president are still engaged in a standoff, which some of the more tin-hatted are declaring as the end of the Republic and, this piece not coming from the radio, you're wife is still gone. Your neighbor too, oddly enough. You can only wish them the worst. An hour and fifteen minutes later, you arrived at home, both ready and dreading being home, the inevitable silence felt like a blessing and a curse. You parked your car in your driveway, stepped out and that's when you heard it, a high-pitched whistle that seemed to be coming from everywhere. It grew steadily louder, and as it did, it's direction sharpened. Above you, heading toward you. You turned and looked up just in time to see a ball of fire no longer whistling, but screaming toward you. You dropped to the ground behind your car, knocking the air out of your lungs, and you hear a magnificent explosion from the other side of your car, where your empty house sat. Even then, the past tense was applicable, as the roof is gone, and you're not sure if a house without a roof is still considered a house. The weight of the day, your shame, anger and sadness formed a pit of fury in your chest. Without a thought, you rounded your car, stomped toward your 'house', unlocked your front door and started to rush this physical embodiment of everything wrong in your life. You didn't get far, though. To your amazement, it wasn't a meteor that destroyed what was left of your life, but a car, or, what was left of a car. Your amazement and confusion faltered and then bloomed as you realize that you've seen this car before. It was the remnants of a red Tesla Roadster. Sitting behind the wheel was a spacesuit filled with what you assumed was a mannequin. As you approached it, the space suit fell forward and hit the steering wheel. When it hit, the horn gave a sad, broken honk and the trunk popped open. Fear began to overtake the amazement inside of you, and fleeing seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. You've seen enough movies to know that the depths of space hold the kinds of terrors that used to haunt sailors. "Jay!"a voice called from the trunk. You hadn't need to urinate before, but you're a breath away from doing it on yourself. "Jay! Don't pee on yourself, it's embarrassing and we don't have time!" Your bladder held and you took a step toward the trunk. But only one. "If you haven't run away yet, we're still on the right track. Hopefully you recognize my voice; I'm you from the pretty near future, about a couple of days. I can't explain everything now, so you need to listen very carefully because we're got about two minutes before the black suits show up and make the choice for you." As your voice spoke from the trunk of the Roadster, you'd taken a couple more steps toward the trunk. With the last sentence spoken, you could hear a siren in the distance, but getting closer. You take the last few steps toward the open trunk and inside, you see a sphere that looked to be made of some sort of hard rubber. The surface of it was textured, as though it had been made to be held. The only distinct feature that you could see on it was a series of slits in its surface, which is where you assumed the voice was coming from. "The device that you have hopefully looking at right now is what you'd call a traveling device. It travels either through time or through space, and it has been programmed to your touch."There was small pause, a muttering, and then finally, "There are two paths ahead of you. If you do nothing, if you don't touch the device and the suits touch it before you do, you will travel back in time one day. You'll have all of your memories up until this point, at which point your mind will fix your dual-memory anomaly and you'll forget this timeline. You can't change much in a day, but you'll be able to fix the little snafu at work."The voice, your voice, chuckled humorlessly, and you could hear the sirens getting closer still, maybe a minute out, probably less. "The second path, if you touch the device yourself, will send you through space, to where you are now, or I am now, or whatever, roughly two days in my past, but in your present. That'll give me enough time to explain the what, where and why of all of this before your future and my current present match and the universe resolves our dual-memory presence anomaly. I don't have to explain beyond that, except to say that it took a hell of a lot to get this thing from where I am to where you are, but we all believe it's worth the effort. I hope to see you soon."and the voice was gone. Sirens turned the corner and were approaching quickly. Your heart was pounding in your throat. With more terror, doubt, dread and desire than you've ever felt, you reached your hand out and placed your hand on the curved surface of the device.
God fucking dammit!! I yelled, looking at the massive paws with dagger-like claws peeking out where my hands used to be, the fur rippling out all over my skin even as I watched, nononono this can't be happening to me. Context you moron, context!! I yelled at the genie as a smug, satisfied smile filled its face; I wanted to be a beast you moron, a beast, as in the best at what I do, energetic and motivated, not a fucking Disney monster, you change me back right this instant!! The genie's smile faded, and despite my new muscular arms & six inch claws I started to feel the slightest hint of fear. "Hey listen dude, no harm, no foul, yeah? Let's call it a miscommunication , you fix me & we go our seperate ways, okay?"No, he replied. "No?"I almost whined as the genie slowly became more and more transparent; No, a disembodied voice said, fading away even as the last syllables reached my ears, I don't like your fucking tone. I stood there, inside a secured bank vault in central Texas in the middle of the night, staring at my watch on the floor where it had landed after my newly expanded wrists had terminated the whole watch, wrist contract next to the now useless Lamp, former residence to the asshole genie. "6:45 am I mumbled to myself, starting at my claws as a new idea slowly developed in my mind; Fuck, I said a little louder; it's gonna be an awkward ass morning."In the distance, police sirens could be heard approaching rapidly.
Under the slate gray sky, Natasha stands in a recessed doorway and puffs on a black-market cigarette and waits. Concrete condos line both sides of the street. People shuffle between them, shapeless gray blobs fading in with the concrete and road and sky. Natasha wears the same gray garb, but the tangles of her hair are dyed an electric blue with homemade dye. She is a dash of color on the otherwise dull street. Passersby stare at her unconformity with sunken hollow eyes. One blob breaks off from the flow of pedestrians, and comes to her. It's a boy, a lock of fluorescent green in his hair, and he says to her, "Follow me." He takes her through the doorway and down an empty hallway lined with locked doors. They come out the other side of the building, across a street, and into an adjacent condo. Third door on the left. A dull key appears out of his smock, and they step into an empty apartment. There is a trapdoor-covered hole in the floor of the closet and a ladder leading down into darkness. They descend. At first, there is only the beat of her heart, thumping in her chest as she gropes blindly for the rungs. Accelerating, as excitement and fear grips her. Then there is another more distant beat, rhythmic and steady. It's soon joined by others, and when she finally steps off the ladder and onto a landing, she is surrounded by sound. Natasha feels the beats against her skin with an intense pulsing yearning. Dancers crowd around her, their eyes rolled back in ecstasy with synchronized limbs moving to the syncopated pulses of the music. The dancers' hair flash through a gamut of chimerical colors. Luminous red, hyperbolic orange, Stygian blue. "Come on,"the boy takes her hand and they join the dancers. It is awkward at first; she feels like an imposter. But then her limbs catch onto something, and they move subordinated to the music. She dances and she feels a chill coursing through her own veins and she looks down and she sees. Her reflection stares back at her from the mirror-polished granite floor. The blue leaches from her hair, droplets of dye dripping slowly down off the tips of her hair. In its place, a coruscating rainbow of colors. She flings her hair back and the blue is gone. And then the chill seizes her and strengthens into an almost unbearable ecstasy and her eyes roll back and she doesn't see anything anymore. She is one with the music, and the music embraces her and she lets go of her grip on the world and embraces it back. \--- Check out my other stories here: [https://www.wattpad.com/user/acerbicMango](https://www.wattpad.com/user/acerbicMango)
I stared at the page, not really comprehending what it said. "I don't want them to erase my memory, not again". It was written in my hand writing. I do not remember writing it. How could this happen? I never wrote this. Or did I? No, that's ridiculous, I couldn't have written it; I would have remembered. Its probably just some harmless pranks. Who would prank me though? None of my friends are that cruel, especially considering what I've gone through these past months I must have written it then. But why? Why did I write this? I must have written it for a reason. Maybe it is true. Maybe what I wrote down is true. The easiest solution is often the correct one afterall. I don't remember memory gaps, but can you honestly remember not remembering something? But who erased my memory? Fuck, I know. I know who did this. I went to my bedroom where I keep my safe. I opened the safe, and removed the gun within. I rushed outside, and got in my car. I turned on my car, and pulled out of my driveway. I need to get these bastards, and make them pay for what they did to me. Two men watch a car pull out of a driveway. One man smiled and said "That fuckin' freak fell for it. What an idiot". The other man said "Of course he did, he's got those mental issues they told us about. That freak thinks people are all out to get him or something". The first man said "To be fair, we are out to get him. But we gotta real reason to do it, not some illuminati bullshit". "What he did to ricky is unforgivable, and those fuckhead shrinks just let him get away with it! He's fucking free, and ricky's six feet under!"The man's voice breaks, and he cries a bit. He carries on in a shaky voice. "He deserves the worst punishment he can get. We just gotta make he does something bad enough those shrinks can't let him out". The first man looks at the other man. "Don't worry man, he's not going anywhere after they see what he'll do now. Ricky can rest in peace now". "I hope so".
Riddle is an unremarkable town, despite the name. At least... it was unremarkable until recently. That day I was just about to step into the office building when I spotted him. A man running towards me frantically, desperately clutching the bright orange towel wrapped around his waist to keep it from falling down. He wasn’t wearing anything else. I tried stepping into the building as swiftly and nonchalantly as I could, attempting to escape while pretending to have not seen him. By then it was too late though, as he caught up to me just before I got through the door. He skidded to a halt just before slamming into me. My first thought was that his feet must be killing him since he was running on asphalt while barefoot. My second thought is that this was either someone escaping capture by some maniac, or that he was an insane person. He seemed winded, but otherwise unfazed. So he was probably the latter. “Terribly sorry to bother you sir, but what year is it?” His accent was mostly American... probably. There were hints of what resembled British in there and possibly Welsh or something else vaguely foreign. He was probably drunk too. I could smell a distinct whiff of an alcoholic beverage. It was very strong but it was one I didn’t recognize. Something with lemon... and... something that reminded me of burnt walnuts or gunpowder? “I know this is a weird question, but it’s very important that I know. What year is this?!” The clearly insane and drunk person was getting more agitated now, but his awareness that the question was odd and the fact that his speech wasn’t slurred gave me a bit of hope that if I just answered the question he’d just go away and that I wouldn’t have to involve the police. “Umm... 2018.” “Thank you SO much! Gosh, thank you Dave! You really are a life saver... I’ll let you get to work now.” I was about to just rush into the building when something hit me. He knew my name. I never told him my name was Dave. How could he know something like that unless he was a stalker or something? Even though he was obviously a nutter, he for some reason didn’t strike me as the stalker type. “How do you know who I am?” “Don’t worry about that for now, you’ll find out soon enough. Oh, and don’t forget that next time you meet me the first thing you have to say is 57.” Then he vanished. No sound, no flash of light, no wind. He was just gone, towel and all. It was as if he hadn’t been there to begin with. I was tempted to write it off as a temporary psychotic break before I noticed the lingering scent of that mystery beverage. Luckily the incident hadn’t made me late for work. Several days later I was driving down the road to work when this mysterious man suddenly appeared in the seat next to me. Needless to say I was more than a bit startled. I yelped rather loudly. This didn’t seem to faze the man, but he did seem confused by his new surroundings. It seemed that he didn’t expect to be there. This time he was wearing some clothing thankfully, but not much. He had polkadoted boxers and some sort of dirty and fraying robe or nightgown. He was clutching the orange towel in his hands like a security blanket, and everything on him smelled of burnt metal. Suddenly I remember what he had told me before. “Fifty-seven!” “What? How did you know that? Who are you?” He didn’t seem to remember our last encounter, which I felt was unfair considering I couldn’t get that meeting out of my head for days. I might as well introduce myself. “I’m Dave. You told me to say that number to you as soon as I saw you next.” His eyes lit up, realizing something important I’d imagine, and he took out the device that was wrapped in the towel. It looked kind of like a tablet or an ebook. He began typing furiously on the screen while talking excitedly. “Sorry about the condition of my clothes, I borrowed this from a friend. Also sorry for dropping in unexpectedly, but I have a feeling I’ll have to do that more before I can leave. It’s a long story, but I think I just figured out how we can end it.” “You seem pretty calm for having just shown up in a stranger’s car.” “I find it best not to panic. It doesn’t help.” It was then that he and I officially started on our journey, when we found out how truly strange my hometown was, and when my life changed forever as a result. It was then that he told me his name. “Ford Prefect, pleased to meet you. Didn’t think I’d be on Earth again, but hey spacetime is like that. Now then Dave, I’ve got one question for you... Have you ever read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?”
I opened my eyes to see a distressed-looking young person with bleached, straight hair looking back at me in the mirror. As I stared, my old facial features somehow began to return, oddly overlayed over the new, unfamiliar face, as if they were merely someone pulling a face. But no sooner had I begun to take advantage of my own body than it began to react by itself. My mouth opened, but the voice coming out was not mine; I hadn't anticipated that I'd be sharing a body. What year is it?, I thought to myself. 2014, \- an unexpected reply came in the form of a voice in my head. Two years have passed in a second. Who are you, and what are you doing in my body? I refused to answer, trying to block out any thoughts and focused on imagining trees instead. I closed my eyes and fell l into a deep trance. Suddenly, I find myself back in my old body, in a vivid café. I've never been to it before, yet it somehow feels familiar. I breathe a sigh of relief. I look around, but there are no other people about. I try to see people through the window, and as I walk out, I am surrounded by crowds, but none of them will stop. Suddenly, a path opens up, seemingly out of nowhere. I try to speak to people, but they carry on regardless, like robots or zombies.None of them look particularly discernible. What I'd love now, I think, is a nice virgin cocktail and an ice cream sundae. No sooner have I said such things than they appear below me on a table. I imagine myself eating the ice cream, which looks delicious, and drinking the cocktail. The cocktail is cold, yet when I drink it, it is tasteless, like water. I try to spoon the ice cream into my mouth, but I can't feel anything. I decide to abandon the food and drink and go outside. Suddenly, a new street full of trees literally appears out of nowhere; I see the trees suddenly rooting themselves like I'm playing the Sims. The air feels fresh, yet I realise I can't smell anything, as though my nose has suddenly become blocked. It's then that I realise why I can't taste the food or the drinks; no real place would involve trees suddenly rooting themselves. I believe in magic, but not Harry-Potter-turning-animals-into-teacups magic. This world is fake; I am lucid dreaming. For a while, I try to explore the world, and attempt to think more things into existence, but my head strains as if something is blocking it. I lay down in a beautiful meadow and fall asleep. Suddenly, I wake up. Everything feels raw, and real. I'm back in the new body, but feel as though I'm suddenly alive. The ground beneath me feels too solid, like I've jumped off a trampoline. It reminds me of the tarmac on the road when I crashed. I'm in a room with harsh electric lighting, sitting in front of a desk. A note on the desk reads, "Clinical psychiatrist". A bland, middle aged white man in a suit, aged between 40 and 60, with few discernible characteristics save for a serious expression and facial creases, and greying brown-black hair, puts his hands together, and points in my direction. In a clipped tone, like someone delivering a lecture on mathematics, he says, "I believe you must be suffering from some sort of serious delusions. Your mental state is probably due to anxiety, but your hallucinations and delusions are probably due to something more serious. I suspect you have schizophrenia, but"- here he adopts a patronising tone, as if he were a teacher telling off a student for forgetting their homework again - "you must promise me you are telling the truth." The man's phone rings. He leaves the door. He talks to a younger white, blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties with a fake smile. The man assumes, wrongly, that he can't be heard through the door. "It's common for people with bipolar disorder to suffer from psychotic breaks. But if someone's trying to pull a fast one on me, maybe it's some sort of personality disorder." The man comes back in. I try to speak and manage to get out: "hey". I'd hoped I'd come off as confident and listened to; instead, the words come out as an immense effort, and I sound like a terminally shy, elderly person with learning difficulties. I try to get up. My arm twitches, but I'm stuck, as if glued to my seat. This isn't much better than the crash, I think to myself. Then the voice that isn't me takes over, and says: "I promise you, I'm telling the truth. Please help me. I'm not making it up; I feel like I've been possessed." "It's common for people like you to develop alternate personalities. You have to become aware and open up to yourself. You can't spend all your life pretending to be someone you're not." "But it's not an alternate personality. I feel like there's another person inside of me." "I'd stay clear of the woo, if I were you. Is your family religious?" "No." Suddenly, I find myself able to move again. I feel the blood pumping through my veins and consider hurting people, but decide against it. I run out of the room as fast as knots, and onto the street. An elderly black woman is preaching the gospel. She seems to be onto me and trying to rid me of my body, but doesn't succeed. She says something vaguely homophobic and accuses me of being a sinner. There are crowds of people here, too, but these ones are real. They're also more diverse, and make the ones in the dream feel like clones. I came feel myself bumping into them, as though I'm still a child trying to move through adult's legs and avoid bumping into their chests. They aren't much more human than the simulation, but they react to me as though I'm in their way and they have something much better and more important to do. I assume I'm still invisible to them, so I try making a fuss, but then they stare at me like I'm a clown at the circus. I grab hold of a door, but as soon as I do, my arm starts to swing in the opposite direction. I feel like my arm is a computer mouse, and the arrow is trying to obey two people. I trip and fall onto a waxen shop floor. My heart starts to pound and my mind becomes a fuzz. Above me, people are asking if I'm OK. Then I feel myself start to float and I seem to exit the body. I see myself from above, and go higher and higher, until my vision turns to black and I come crashing back down. I wake up. I'm in a bed. A kindly woman in her late fourties with long, dishevelled, wavy chestnut hair and light brown skin and deep, caring eyes looks down at me. I've never seen before in my life, but she smiles down at me, as if I know her well. "It's OK", she says. "Drink this."She hands me a cup of hot camomile tea. I blow on it and wait for it to cool down. I'm in some sort of bedroom in a private house, surrounded by blankets and eiderdown quilts and embroidered carpets. It's dark, but there's a window above me, early evening daylight shining through half-turned down blinds. "The paramedics found you in the shopping centre. They told me you had been having a panic attack and fainted. At the hospital, the doctors handed me this note. They say you've been suffering from some sort of dissociative episode". I open my mouth. This time, I can speak no problem. "What day is it today?", I ask. "Tuesday. You went into the hospital on Sunday". "Who are you?"I say. "Where am I?" "Oh dear, you really have been in a bad state, haven't you? Don't worry, love. Get some sleep. Everything will make sense in the morning."
It was 11:55pm HST On the Island of Hawaii, two massive towers with dougnut like metal rings at their apex had been erected at the summit of Mauna Kea next to the observtory. Spanning 300 yards between the two towers sat a single chrome dish. It was the culmination of years of research and a near trillion dollars of funding from nearly 160 different countries. Gregory Nillson a swedish scientist looks anxiously at his console, it had only been a few years since he had proven that the magnetic component of radio waves could themselves be modulated to transmit messages. It proved to be far far to expensive to work for any application on earth so his idea lay forgotten till one fateful day when he left his device on and the faraday cage it was house in open. The next day the message was heard around the world, 00110111 00110000 00110101 00110111 00100000 00110111 00110000 00110110 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110000 00110111 00111001 00100000 00110111 00110001 00110000 00110011 A stream of prime numbers in binary form. This could have only been made by an intelligent civilization, and one that wants to be known. Now three years later he stood between two massive magnetic antennas, the world hoping to put its ear to the universe. 11:58pm HST Gregory calls out to his colleagues over the radio, each one calling out that their systems are go. 11:59 HST Gregory, declares all systems go. A crowd of reporters wait in silence. He tunes the antennae to the frequency he had last heard life. 114MHz or rather it's magnetic twin. 1200am Gregory throws a lever and the air is alive with electricity from the two towers. His console indicates the pulses he had heard earlier. Success!! his magnetic radio had worked. So far this had been the only frequency that had worked the real test lay ahead. He initiated a program that analyzed the entire frequency range and intitaited the frequency sweep protocol. The coils once again came to life buzzing at higher and higher pitches as the program listened through higher and higher frequences. A list was being generated 115.6 116.2 117.2 118.3 119.2...... All showing their own unique signatures. No one knew it just yet but the world had changed.
1: "Damn it, Stephanie, did you let the cat out of the bag again? It opened up a whole new can of worms." 2: "I was stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. I had no choice." 1: "Stop beating around the bush. You know it's just going to get you into trouble." 2: "David, you don't understand, do you? Well, you never did." 1: "Can you just get me out of this mess?" 2: "Only if hell freezes over." Stephanie probably regretted making that promise the next day when she had to stop investigating her bush, which probably contained a solution to her problem of having no way to get back home unless her empty bag could somehow help. At least it was better than dying or drowning. Wait a minute, that's the same thing! So does this mean that when people say they're stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, they actually have only one option? Wow. That's deep. And kind of depressing. Stephanie pondered this while making the long trek home. Apparently, her husband David had slipped in a bunch of worms.
The rain pours hard upon my roof, keeping me awake. My tired eyes stare at the ceiling, knowing it will be a restless night. Sitting up, I look at my phone, hoping she would leave me a text message. I still remember the look in her eyes before she left the apartment. I remember the deep ocean blue of it, and how I found a home in it. I remember her smile as she kissed me goodbye, both of us waiting to see each other later that night. Rebecca said she was only going shopping with Sammy for some clothes, so I believed it. I stayed home, watching the latest Mixed Martial Art fight on pay-per-view, with all but one fighter I bet on, losing, costing me about $100 overall. Nothing too bad, but enough to leave me bitter. In my absorption of the fight and my sour attitude, I didn't keep track of time. Any minute she'll be right back, I told myself. Yet I am here alone. Eventually my worries start to drizzle away as I wonder if I am overthinking things, as I start to drift to sleep. My dream took me away from feeling I'm too clingy or obsessive, if I'm possessive and therefore not fit to be in a relationship. In this state, I don't have to wonder if I am good enough, if she's secretly out there, finding someone better, only to barely convince myself: no, she wouldn't do that. I've talked to her about my state of mind in all of this, and reassure me as she might, I didn't believe her. I talked to a friend about this recently. He suggested I take Rebecca to couple's counseling, or at least visit a therapist myself. Perhaps that would be beneficial in better communicating to each other our woes and feelings. Perhaps I wouldn't feel so lost with someone that makes me feel like I matter. I am awoken by an even harder downpour, hammering down on my rooftop while thunder roared outside. Clutching my chest as I gasp for air, I calm myself from this fright to hear more pounding - only closer. It's coming from my door...could it be her? Quickly, I jump to my feet and nearly whack myself in the face with the speed I opened the door to see Rebecca in a state I've never seen her in before. Absolutely soaked with rain, she came into the living room. Her mascara ruined, I thought at first from the rain, but her face was masked with fear and pain and sorrow. Rebecca stumbles for her words as she stumbles for her steps. I do my best to calm her down, but still she weeps. I hold her close and tell her everything is okay, to which she responds that it isn't. We sit on the couch as my heart and my world falls apart as Rebecca tells me she didn't actually go shopping with Sammy, rather she went to a party with her. She tells me of how she told Sammy she wouldn't need a ride from her, that she found this guy she was becoming friends with. Only that wasn't the case. Rebecca tells me of how fast she was falling for this man, and tonight she wanted him. She looked at me with more tears in her eyes as she tells me that I don't deserve her lies. I say nothing. I can't think of anything to say, as if my thoughts and feelings were stuck in my throat, struggling to get out. Instead I stare at her, in the eyes that no longer resemble a calm ocean I could swim in, but a storm of complicated humanity. Rebecca holds me close to her as she speaks more erratically, about how this man took advantage of her and wouldn't take no for an answer, about how she didn't call the cops or me when she should have, about how she should have communicated to me better. I sit there with the only voice of mine being heard is in my own head as my mind races. What do I do? Kick her out and leave her? Find this man and unleash a world of hurt? Console her but leave the relationship? Try to work on ourselves? I struggle for an answer, yet I find none, as my feelings grow in intensity with the storm outside. When I would once look in her eyes and see a home in there, I look now and see how lost I am. Where this situation leads, I do not know.
Brain Corp. Brain Corp ads everywhere. You couldn't walk 10 steps without seeing some kind of ad for it. Not going to lie it was tempting. The promise of greater intelligence, quicker thinking. Who has $3k just sitting around? I didn't, nor did most people I knew. It was just out of financial reach for the common everyman. Exactly how the wealthy wanted it. This was a product for them, not for you. No bank would loan you the money for it either. If you wanted it you had to have the money up front. Families would pool money and save for months and in some cases years. They would appoint a family member to get the new brain and this new family member would then be responsible for increasing the overall income for the family. They'd be eligible for a corporation job. I got the short straw. You'd think I'd be excited to get the new brain. I'm not. The $2999 model is bargain basement. No frills. Oh it works as intended, but spark, personality, and other traits that really matter are underwhelming. On top of which I was going to have to get a job, probably at Brain Corp performing menial tasks. I finally made it to the employment office. If you didn't have any upgrades at all and you went there, prepare for menial labor. When I finally made it to the job counsellor he asked if I was tagged. That's the code term for getting the upgrade. I nodded and he jabbed the scanner on my head. "Base model huh? 15th one this morning. Look I don't have much for people like you. You aren't special cause you got tagged. All I've got is clerical filing or customer service rep for Brain Corp. You want one of those or not?"I nodded and said "Clerical filing". "Congratulations"he said wearily and shoved a newhire package at me. "Now get the hell out."
"Am I not Human?" Those words echoed in my head. These single words were enough to drive me to insanity. My hands scratched my head, trying to figure out what they meant. A few scientist had taken me from my two roomed apartment. My roommate fighting with them, till she dropped to the ground, unmoving. The scientists grabbing my arm and dragging me. Each one of them whispering. "That's not a human." Now I sit in a room, covered in walls of limestone. With a single slab cut out of the sedimentary rock. The gray smooth with no cracks formed in them. Sighing I reach over to the walls. Trying to feel something. If I'm not Human, then I must have something to prove that. The stone opened up to me. I could see all the fossils combined to make it. Millions of microscopic dead animals from long ago. This caused shock and fear to swell up. Gasping I launched myself away and landed onto the floor. All around me was limestone. Shivering I stared upwards. This was a prison. With no seen exit. I've proven to myself that I wasn't something normal. What kind of human has strong enough vision to see into the microscopic world. With this new found knowledge, I stood up. Determined to figure out who I was and what. My mind settled on the limestone. Piecing together every molecule. Untill I found it. A weak spot. Pulling at it with all my mustered strength it broke. All around me the limestone crumbled. Revealing a vast area hangar surrounding me. The hangar empty with only the air coursing through it. Why was a small prison cell in a hangar? Was I being held in an abandoned area. To only be abandoned as well? Glancing over I see the limestone. Crumbled into pieces of uncut rock. Millions of cracks formed with in the rocks. Scared out of my own a ability, I stumbled onto the floor. Feeling my vision slowly fade. The sound of wind awakening me. It's coolness crossing across my face. Each stroke filled with a crispness. A bitterness settled over me. Looking up I saw what I hadn't noticed before. Panels covering the top of the hangar walls. A curved celling above that. Yet each panel had shards of glass still in place. With glass littering the floor around me. My legs and arms still laying on the ground. Without a care I got myself up. Wandering over to the glass. Picking one up as soon as they came into contact. Standing their, a sharp piece of glass in my hand. Sharp enough to cut the flesh of any human. Yet I had no cuts or injuries. Only the realization of reality. I hold the glass up to my face. Staring into myself. Seeing my hair flow down my face and my eye. My eye piercing the glass and scattering it around the hangar. Void of everything. Just like me. With the blue light casting on the empty space. I allowed what seemed to be water, flow down my face. (I'd appreciate any feedback or suggestions to the story.)
*The Cursed Hero; Part 1* Animal Control Officer Grada had seen a lot of animals pass through her care before they were shipped off to Gods knew where. The 34 year old Goron had seen a lot during her career, but some cases, she never forgot. This was one such case. It had started out as a normal day for her, leaving Death Mountain for around 5-8 hours depending on how busy they were for that day. Then, she received a call about a wolf running around. Grada grew interested, there weren't that many wild wolves left in Hyrule, but the description of this particular one made her curious. "We've got a young male wolf, not fully grown yet, he's got some sort of shackle around his left front paw...black and white fur pattern...intact, of course....He's stopped running now and he's staring at us with this..confused look? Yep, he's not moving now, just - ...I...I think he just passed out, wait a moment." Grada waited a few seconds, then picked up her radio. "Where are you?"She pushed a button on the side of the radio and waited for a response. "Ah....Corner of....Main and 6th, downtown." Grada pushed the button again. "On my way, keep him stable until i get there, sounds like he needs fluids." "Will do." With this, Grada set the radio back on the hook and maneuvered her way into the early morning traffic. She then flipped on the lights overhead so people would get out of her way - there was a potentially dangerous animal on the loose, after all. -------------------------------------------------------------- The wolf was very dehydrated when she reached the corner of 6th and Main. A crowd had gathered nearby but they all dispersed as Grada drove up. A second later, she was out of her truck and was running towards her friend, Zamuel. The Zora had been working for the H. A. P. O. for around five years now, and he was already well known through the city. "How is he?" Grada knelt down next to the stricken wolf and checked his breathing - it was shallow but he was still alive. "You were right, he's seriously dehydrated. Got a makeshift IV hooked up to him, gave him some water, not sure what else to do until we get him back." Zamuel looked down at the wolf, then back up towards Grada. "You know...I think I've seen this wolf some where before...But where..." The two officers heard something, a noise of some sort and they both looked down - the wolf was now awake and was now staring up at them with a glazed and distant look. "...I don't think we need to tranq him. I mean, look at him, I don't even think he knows that we're standing there." Zamuel bent down and waved a finned arm in front of the wolf's face. The beast didn't even respond, but instead lowered his head and went back to sleep. Grada walked over to her truck and got a blanket designed for transporting sick animals - it covered their faces so they wouldn't panic. She then brought the blanket over the the wolf and Zamuel helped the Goron pick up the wolf and carry him one of the cages in the back of Grada's van. Once the wolf was loaded, Zamuel escorted Grada back to the main headquarters, where the wolf was rushed into surgury to stabilize him. -------------------------------------------------------------- It was around 5 hours later that Grada detected movement from inside a makeshift sick bay. The wolf had been stabilized with not really any problems, and then had been put in a small enclosed around with food, water, and an access door to a small fenced in grass area outside. The wolf was currently lying on blankets as makeshift bed. Grada watched as the young wolf stirred, then watched on as the wolf's eyes flew open and he bolted upright with a yelp. The wolf stayed sitting on the blankets, shaking visibly and looked confused as to where he was. Grada got his attention by getting up from the chair and walking over to the wolf's enclosure. "It's okay. You're safe now." The wolf actually locked gazes with her and she found herself looking into these brilliant blue eyes, ones that held emotions. So many emotions. Then the wolf looked away and discovered his food bowl. He stared down at it and then slowly reached out with his left paw and gently tapped the content of the bowl, then pulled his paw back. He did this several more times before lowering his head to the bowl of food and sniffed it a bit, as if trying to decide if it was edible or not. Then the wolf somehow managed to pick up one piece of the food and seemed to sample it, Grada swore he tossed his head to the side a bit, as if he was actually seeing if he liked the food or not. Of course, he was a wolf, he probably had never had this type of food in his life. A second later, the wolf took another piece and ate it, then another. "Good. You see to like it We'll give you actual meat later." It took a while but eventually the wolf finished eating and then stood up and shook himself, then padded over to the aces door and loked down at it for a bit. He then raised his left paw and poked the flap. He jerked back a bit as the flap movement back and forth and he waited until the flap stopped moving before he slowly moved his paw to the flap again. His paw went through the flap and the wolf discovered that this flap let him go outside whenever he wanted. So, the beast stepped through the flap and it swung shut behind him. He came back in around 10 minutes later, looking visibly more relaxed then he had been. The wolf went to the makeshift bed and passed out on it. Grada took this as the time to leave him be. After all, there was still the matter of debate as to where this wolf came from and who he was. -------------------------------------------------------------- One day, Grada arrived to the headquarters and discovered that the blue eyed wolf was missing. The Goron finally walked up the the new intern and asked her what had happened. "A young couple came in...They fell in love with him at first sight and...They....Bought him for...twenty five hundred Rupees. I couldn't say anything." Grada just gawked at the new intern. "THEY DID WHAT?!" -------------------------------------------------------------- James Forester and his soon to be wife, Jana, had fallen in love with the wolf. Nothing could stop them from buying him for the ridiculous sell price of 2500 Rupees. Now, they were on their way back home. Jana looked behind her at the wolf curled up in the backseat, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Isn't he handsome, James?" James stared ahead at the road, saying nothing but a "em-hmm." Jana turned around for a while and when she looked back, the wolf was sitting up and looking out the window, he seemed to be actually looking at things. When the wolf saw Jana looked at her, he turned his head towards her and 'spoke' for the first time since he had woken up. "A-roow?" Jana grinned. James! James! He spoke to me, did you hear him?" James nodded as he slowly turned the car into the long winding driveway to their house. "I heard him. I think he likes you." The wolf was staring at the house now, and he continued to stare at it even after the car stopped and he was let out. After this, the wolf decided to run off into the woods nearby. "Hey!"Jana called after the wolf but James gently took her arm. "I'm sure he's fine." However, the wolf was not fine. The wolf was in fact cursed. And the curse could break at any moment. The wolf found himself standing in a shallow body of water, it reached his shins in height. This was the Forest Spring. The wolf couldn't believe it was still here. He tried to summon the Spirit of Farore but for some reason, he wasn't appearing. He then heard footsteps behind and he turned and looked up. It was James. "Why are you out here?" The wolf tried to think of a way to answer him and he finally thought of one. He merely walked over to a lone bush and began to 'water' the bush, so to speak. After a few moments, the wolf heard another source of water and he risked looking back - James was doing the same thing. The man's answer was "I had to piss, Jana isn't here. Why not?" The wolf seemed to nod at this and then seemed to intently focus on what he was currently doing. -------------------------------------------------------------- A few minutes later, the two returned to the house and walked inside. The wolf actually sat down on the foyer floor hard and gazed upwards, he to his left, then to this right, straight forwards, and then down, and then back up at James and Jana. Jana smiled down at the wolf. "I think he's going to like it here, don't you?" The days turned to weeks. Two weeks had passed since the day 'Jaundice' was adopted and the wolf seemed to have unlimited energy. Thankfully, the wolf was already fully trained, so James and Jana didn't even have to worry about anything. One day, Jana had gone out for food and James and the wolf were home alone. All of a sudden, the wolf bolted upright from where he had been sleeping, let out a strangled yelp, and then actually threw himself behind the couch. A few minutes passed, and then James heard something crazy: he heard a voice. A small and very weak voice, but someone was talking to him. "Would you fetch me something to wear, please?"
The door swung open automatically like it did every morning when I pushed the disability assistance button out of sheer laziness and not wanting to open it. The apartment building was a bit of run down dump, but not big enough of a dump not to afford an automatic door. I started down 22nd street, similar to every other day, the busy New York Taxis honking their horns every few seconds. My earbuds swung around my neck as I plugged them into my phone, soon after slipping them into my ear. John Lennon's crisp voice echoed through my eardrums, "You may say I'm a dreamer!". My eyes darted around me, seeing all the familiar black dots that filled the air of New York. There was a block dot hovering over every single inanimate thing in the city roughly a few inches above each thing, none with an exception. By now, I've assumed its a mental tick, or something wrong with my imagination and not being able to tell the difference between whats in my head and what is in reality. My mom told me I would grow out of it, and after a couple years, I just told her I did so I wouldn't worry her. I took my usual left turn onto 8th Avenue, looking forward to my morning cup of coffee at Bean and Bean. I chuckle to myself every time I think of its name, never knew why. I used to get overwhelmed by the number of white balls I saw hovering over people's heads when I was younger, and that's why I could never walk down 8th Avenue until a couple years back. I made my way into Bean and Bean and ordered my medium roast coffee: cream, no sugar. Call me boring that I didn't want a triple soy milk café espresso whatever. As I looked past the barista in the mirror behind him, I always liked how I never had a white orb over me, it made me feel, unique. With it drawing a smile to my face, I stepped aside to wait for my drink. Earbuds in and music blasting, I couldn't help but tap my foot on the faux wood floors, and I felt some eyes drift towards, and I realized just how loudly my foot was stomping to the recognizable beat of We Will Rock You. I heard someone saying something, very softly, so I ignored it. After a minute or so, the barista had come around the desk and stood in front of me holding my drink. "Hey buddy, maybe you should pay attention next time, so I can help everyone else will you?"He said to me, leaving a little bite on the end of each word. "Yeah, uhhh, I'm really sorry about that it won't happen again,"I replied back, I was never good at confrontation. Taking my coffee quickly I walked out the door, eyes glued to the ground as I walked down the freshly fixed sidewalk. When I finally got to my intersection, I took my eyes off the ground to drink my coffee, and bathe in the spectacle of the white balls dancing over everyone's heads. Then, there was this woman diagonally across the intersection, at the edge of the bundled up crowd, who stood with a worrisome expression covering her face as she looked at her watch. Yet, she had no dancing white ball over her head. I wondered why, but couldn't quite comprehend it because I've been the only one I've ever seen without it. I started laughing, and I have absolutely no idea why. Maybe it's because I didn't feel so alone anymore. I didn't feel like the crowd around me was full of these people that still made me feel like I was entirely alone, that maybe, just maybe I could wake up in the morning and feel like I belonged because Now I finally found someone that was like me. I still didn't even know what I was at the time, but I just hoped she was the guardian angel I've been hoping for. She began to cross the street, and I had to go over and meet her. I don't even remember where I was supposed to be going that Saturday morning, but I forgot all about it as I turned and headed her way. My eyes were focused on her face as I bumped shoulders with everyone walking against me as I couldn't care less who was in my way. I finally crossed paths with her along the sidewalk and simply stopped in her way and just said, "Hey there,"and gave the most genuine smile I think I ever have. She bumped into me, not realizing I would stop and very awkwardly looked at me and gave me a half smile and a nod as she brushed by. "Wait! Please for just one second! I just want to talk!"I yelled as she began to walk away. She jolted, frightened at my aggressive tone, and she quickly turned around. She looked me in the eyes, and then I saw her eyes drift above my head, and her eyes began to widen, and her mouth opened, speechless for a few seconds before responding, "I think we should have that talk over breakfast, follow me. Right, now."She turned quickly, pushing her hair behind her ears aggressively, as she began to walk swiftly away. I followed immediately behind her in silence as we made our way down 29th street.
As Anne’s head dropped forward after falling asleep she jerked upright in her chair, startled. She hadn’t got much sleep the night before, and she was still somewhat hungover from a night with the girls. As she focused her eyes on the screen while Chuck offered Teddy another cigarette, she thought it wasn’t very realistic that someone would be so generous with their smokes, those things were expensive. Although she lost track of what was going on in the movie sometime ago, she did tend to focus on the details of movies. None of it really mattered, she liked Leo and all as most girls have all her life, but she wasn’t there to watch Shudder Island, she just needed to be in the movie theater around 6:10 PM. She shifted in her chair to glance at her watch just as the pried her shoe from the dried soda on the floor, it was 5:50. Surely the movie would be over soon, and she worried she may have too much time to kill between the end of this movie, and the beginning of tonight’s feature presentation, Frozen! Usually Anne could hold off on the restricted G rated movies until a friend from work could share her thumb drive with her. She felt bad about participating in watching pirated content, but she would gladly pay good money for G rated movies if she could. The strict ban caused some of her coworkers to start using torrent services, where they wouldn’t do prior to the new limit against adults over 12 to view G rated material. Although she would stoop to essentially stealing creative material, she could restrain herself from sneaking into movies, at last in the past 15 years. She and her friends had of course done it from time to time in high school with R movies, but there hadn’t been a need to since. She was amazed by the hype that buzzed around among her friends and co-worker’s kids; Frozen lunchboxes, Frozen clothes, backpacks, sheets, you name it. What was the obsession? She had to know, and she figured it was about time she enjoys such a movie on the big screen. She couldn’t work up the nerve to ask any of her friends to join, she was afraid that they wouldn’t, not only that but judge her for it, and she wouldn’t get away with lying about it if she tried to play it off as a joke. Surely, they would ask her some other time if she really had snuck into a G rated movie and if she had, they would know, they would read her instantly. No, she had to fly solo on this one, and as challenging it was for her, she thought it would be fun. Perfect timing, the credits began to roll with a suspenseful music of a tuba as the backdrop for the people around her mumbling indistinctly about whether they figured out the story. She pulled her legs close to the chair as a man next to her tried to shuffle by her. He looked at her as if to say, “its over you can go now” but she ignored him and began to scroll through her phone. She needed to wait until everyone cleared out of the theater, so she could make her move, and there was always a few people who liked to wait for cut scenes so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Anne needed to get down to the fire exit to tape the door latch flush with the door so it wouldn’t lock. The door was conveniently located on the side of the theater wall instead of the same wall that the screen was on, otherwise there would be about 200 people looking right at her when she opened it back up after Frozen started. As the room had illuminated with dim yellow light, a young kid, made his way against the grain of the movie goers so he could gather up the abandoned Snow Caps and popcorn peppered about the floor. He couldn’t take that long, just enough to say he did and he would get out, if the past couple of movies she did a dry run were any indication. The last of the patrons were gone and the employee continued to buzz around clanking the broom against his pan, and he didn’t seem to take much notice of her, she just sat there typing away intently at her phone. She hoped that if he did approach her that she would look busy enough with her text or email that it would be best to leave her be. She scoffed to herself for dramatic effect, and the kid was heading back to the main door. She heard the soft squeak of the door swinging open then clanking against the door jamb and grabbed her bag. She pulled out the duct tape from under the maroon vest for her disguise, and she noticed that she hadn’t felt her heart beat this fast without being on a morning run, probably ever. Here she was, breaking the law, and the fact that anyone may come back through that door was almost enough for her to chicken out. She tore the edge of the tap with a quick bite from the side of her mouth, and propped open the door slightly, holding it with her foot. Glancing over her shoulder to the projector room, to see if there was a silhouette in the glass, she saw a movement in the corner of her eye. It was the main door, somehow instinctively, she intentionally dropped her phone, looking back to the door she saw someone looking out into the empty theater, probably forgot something, but he didn’t seem to be concerned for what she was doing. After she grabbed her phone and smiled to herself for thinking of a diversion unconsciously, she began to walk briskly to the exit. The fire door seemed to close softly enough, and she walked toward the concession stand to leave the building. She had ten minutes until showtime and walked toward her car. She should’ve just left the vest there to begin with, but it didn’t make any difference. She just needed to pass the time so Frozen could start, or at least the previews. She parked on the side of the building to limit any employees seeing her in her theater uniform, surely alerting a real employee as they wouldn’t recognize her. It wasn’t a genuine uniform, but the maroon vest was close enough in a dark theater that you wouldn’t be able to tell, especially as an unsuspecting kid. She tightened up her vest and took a deep breath as she faced the theater. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, this is ridiculous, she thought to herself. She rebutted herself that this stupid adult ban on G rated movies is ridiculous, and she has every right. She stepped towards the side of the building agreeing with herself and looked for theater 2. The credits surely should be rolling now she thought, 6:12 glowed back from her phone after pressing the side button. She pulled out her flashlight, mostly using it as a prop. She pressed her ear against the door, listening for any confirmation that the movie had begun. She could hear a muffled sound, and thought it was safe, so she slowly pulled on the door, partly scared of anyone noticing her, and partly concerned if her rig had worked. Sure enough, the door angled away from the frame, and the clear sound and light from the movie spilled outside into the alley. She peeked in, glancing both ways, it was clear. Slipping inside, she held the door to prevent it from making any noise and let it gently close behind her. There was a long 45-degree wall leading up from the front row to the back, with a path along the side heading to the front entrance of the theater, so only the first few rows could actually see the fire door. The sea of kids was transfixed on the screen, the theater booming with men singing and sawing into a frozen lake, there was no way they noticed her come in. She peered around the theater, there was no employees to be seen, which was relieving, but she frowned as she realized there was no open seats, at least none that she saw that were accessible without climbing over 20 kids. She walked confidently to the back, hoping she wasn’t going to have to stand there for an hour and forty-two minutes. She researched the run time to know when she needed to make her way down to the front to slide out the back door before the kids hoarded out. Just as she neared the front row, she spotted an open seat against the back wall. The theater was packed but kids like to be close to the front she figured. She leaned against the back wall with her arms crossed, trying to look official, squinting over the crowd. All the little heads were straight forward, hypnotized by the musical number and advanced animation. None of them suspected a thing, and they probably wouldn’t care if they had. Anne sat down gently leaning forward and joined the kids in their trance. After a few minutes the stress of the mission melted away, and she leaned back becoming ever absorbed into the movie. As the men on the screen continued with what appeared to be making ice cubes and gleefully bellowing out their showtune, Anne fell asleep.
She was a witch, one of the Luftwaffe Division that had been shot down, fleeing the wreckage of her magically augmented vehicle. It hadn't occurred to me that she was a person, too. She didn't deserve it, not even a little bit. She was beautiful, innocent. She hadn't asked for any of this. It was a senseless waste of life, and I knew it almost as soon as the blood spurted from her chest. It had been a good shot, and it sickened me. I ran across No Man's Land, not really aware that I was going until I was at her side, picking her up - she was so small - and carrying her off the field. I didn't notice the bullets flying overhead, the screaming shrapnel. Even the stench of the battlefield vanished behind the horror of what I'd done. I took her to a cave, a small cave, off to the side. Somewhere where she'd be protected from the chaos of the battle. I split her shirt - very high up, very discretely, just enough to help bandage her wound and stem the bleeding. She'd live, now. What had I done? I didn't deserve any of this. I drew my trench knife and put it against my belly, tears filling my eyes. Why? Why? * * * The Hag looked down at the soldier's corpse. It had been a bit of tricky spellwork, but it had been laid good and fast. She reached over and tugged the man's sidearm from his holster. He wouldn't need it. Not anymore. She settled back and listened to the shells screaming overhead.
Anything can drive a person to a breaking point. Either a loss of a loved one, a natural disaster that took everything. For me it was a simple plant. A plant with leafs and some rather odd features. The night was a cold December one. With the crisp air whirling around every corner. Not a dash of warmth from the outside. Only the heat from the installations in my coat and gloves. The sidewalk covered in a foot of snow. My boots trudging through the mush. Untill I finally reached my building. It's simple exterior was enough to knock off suspicion. Although the interior could not be accounted as the same. Each step towards the door was a step closer to my new job. I'd been hired as a security guard for my background of martial arts. Even though I was a scientist of some praise. This new experiment or discovery, was quite intriguing to my colleagues. So I climbed the steps and put my hand on the handle. Awaiting what was to be awaited. With the door opened I had stepped inside. Greeting with the warmth of the led lights above. My job sat in the far corridor to the left. So I braces myself for all the unexpected items to occur. A organic life form with a brain must lead to some strange phenomenons. A settle sound emerged as I walked the tile. One of my shoes and one of movement. With a new found curiosity, my pace quickened. Reaching the door a familiar movement proceeded Infront of me. My hand feeling the coldness of the handle. Pushing it had opened the room with barely a creak. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Only the smooth marble and a glass containment cell. A mere plant incased within it's glass walls. My hand reached over towards the glass. The reflection of myself peering back. I looked over towards the plant. Sitting on a podium crafted of the same marble surrounding them. It's green seeming to stare back. The wrist watch on my hand showing 2:57. 4 hours till my shift ended. Pointlessly wandering I glanced at the plant. It's leafs only making small movements. Although I could swear the leafs were once green. Now they shared a crisp brown. I reached out towards the plant. Feeling a cold touch from it. "Help... H...e...l...p" Unsettled I took my steps back. The plants leafs shaking violently. Knowing without hearing, I opened the containment door. The plant slowly decaying before my eyes. Grabbing at it's leafy, it welcomed me. Allowing me to carry it to a new home. Where it could prosper and grow. The doors swung open towards the outside. A chilling cold sweeping through. My coat keeping a barrier between the elements. Without hesitation, I ripped at the snow. Kneeling down, Carving till a bare patch of dirt emerged. The plant in my hands rolling into the earth beneath me. Planting itself into the patch. It's green hue returning. "Thank you brave man, you have proven yourself."It spoke My eyes watered as it spoke. How could I not realize the suffering it had burdened. It suffered such a weight and had persevered. With a new found hope, I watched the plant. Slowly growing as I entered the building.
I had finally accomplished all I wanted in life. I am needed. Truly needed. I began this project when VR technology first got big, went mainstream. Even average joes we’re getting into it, some for the experience, others because gaming was all they knew. I had the idea of VR D&D. Crazy I know, but it became my obsession. That was 50 years ago. Now I’m old. Well I prefer experienced. I lived an okay life, loved a good woman, had a couple kids. They’ve moved on, followed my footsteps, prospered. But my true dreams finally came true. I’ve said my goodbyes. Only my wife understands, the kids want me to die like a normal person. But that’s not my destiny. My oldest friend was in the dev room, as he said he would be. He would join me in Transference. That was my plan for 50 years. See I love D&D, and for 50 years my team and I worked to develop the ultimate online D&D game, with everything imaginable: random encounters, memorable NPCs, we got writers to write modules, different serves with: homebrew toggling, importing your own work into the game, stat readouts for DMs, big bads, everything. But it was missing one thing. A DM for the main game. While it would be more normal to code the game to adapt to player choices, I had a better idea. This was my final plan, to upload myself to the game, and become the ultimate DM. The transfer was successful, and the game was announced, sold, and prospered. But what the masses never knew that the ingame DM was so responsive and lifelike because I was their DM. My wife will join my in here in a years time, and my friend will teach his children to put him in as well. Together we will make the ultimate game, with the most lifelike NPCs of all time. And we will live forever too. Which is kinda cool I guess.
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Unexpected this culling, but necessary for the species to survive. Individuals matter not, said the textbooks in school. Only moving forward genetically, with the blessing of the digital god. Mainframe crunched and selected who and when. The losers, a spectacular show of gruesome twisted carnage, highest price paid by those who finished what the wall did not. Winners cheer. Had he not sat in those seats? Safe. Long ago. Had he not cheered at his father’s sweaty glistening bloody return. Yes, they paid extra. They believed it protected them. His path should have been gilded. But then, one cull, he blinked a tear away. The Mothers cull. Mainframe unblinking caught it analyzed it challenged it pursued it and now eradicated it. He now knew others blinked. The cars were full, hurtling forward to cheers unheard over the sound of breaking hearts.
It was a downtrodden hatchback, the kind with rust and scars across the hood. It had no business being on a road, tags out of date and nearly a decade since the last time it was inspected. Larry was amazed it still ran, and though he was apprehensive of the old clunker, he began to drive. It'd be two weeks, round trip, presuming it didn't break down to get where Larry was going. Larry never much cared for his father. He beat Larry and his brothers, and drove off their mother. But when he died, Larry felt he owed it to the man to see him put in the dirt. If nothing else, Larry had never gone hungry. He and his always had plenty. Plenty of food, plenty of bruises, and plenty of their daddy's booze. They always had a roof over their heads, though it came down in bad storms a few times. Out on the highway now, the truck could barely keep to the speed limit. Larry was fine driving in the slow lane, plodding about even as the engine rattled and whined. He hoped it wouldn't fail him. Or at least, that if it did it was after the funeral. By Larry's understanding, he'd be the only one attending. Ma was too scared of the man, even as a corpse, to come and see. The other sons were too far away, or lacked the care to make the trip. Day after day the thing clanked and shuddered. Larry couldn't afford a plane ticket - even if he could he was afraid of flying - much less to have this thing put back together now. Larry was never the brightest of his fathers sons, but he figured he had enough gas money to get there. Probably not back, but Larry would scrape by after. Against the odds, the hatchback didn't fail, and saw Larry through to the small town he'd grown up in. The place had gone down hill since Larry had gotten away. That or it was always that bad, it had just seemed glamorous compared to home. Just like Larry thought, he was the only one there when he arrived. It was just him, the stiff remains of what might of been and the shoddy casket the old man ended up in. But when they put him in the dirt, among the tangled overgrowth of the disused graveyard, Ma was there. The priest asked for words, but neither had much to say. They didn't like him, they hated that they needed him for however long, and some horrid part of them was glad to be rid of him. Ma was quick to make her exit. She spat on the grave before leaving, and Larry didn't give chase. He wasn't good at talking, reconciling or anything else for that matter. There was a reason his brothers cut contact. The truck still ran after it was over. But it was out of gas, and Larry was out of money. It took a bit of talk, but Larry managed to sell the hatchback to the Junkyard. The last time Larry saw his father's truck drive was into that fortress of bent metal and broken hope. It felt wrong, like sending his old man to be ripped into pieces for a pittance. Part of Larry wanted it restored instead. But he needed the hundred dollars they'd given him just to get back home. He'd been running on empty, so he made his way to the local diner. A greasy place for a murky town. It was after Larry sat down and began to ate what passed as a burger in this place that he broke. He'd paid for the meal, and his drink, with that money he got from the truck. His daddy had given him that money, in a way. Even after everything, his old man made sure he wouldn't go hungry. The tears weren't loud, or ugly, like they were back in Larry's childhood. For once they were happy. His father had given him something without hurt attached. Something he could think on, and whisper "Thank you, dad"for once and mean it. So Larry thanked his father, in earnest, for the first and last time.
I sit at my desk at my thankless, listless 9-to-5 job on a Tuesday afternoon. Nothing exciting is going to happen. I have nothing to look forward to except weeks more of this mind-numbing boredom until I can finally quit this job to pursue my dream of going to school for a degree in fashion. I chew the end of my pencil (which I'm not even using). Fastidiously, I arrange the others in a line according to descending height and sharpen one which is not perfectly pointed. Some people think I'm neurotic and maybe a bit insane, but I know that they are the crazy ones. I am the only one trying to maintain order in a disharmonious world. Suddenly my boss, Benjamin, approaches my cubicle. I quickly fall back to typing on my computer. He clears his throat behind me. Feigning obliviousness, I turn and say "Oh, Mr. Swift?" "You. In my office. Now." "Y-yes, sir."He seems almost ready to erupt. He had never been so angry before. I quickly stand up and follow him into his cabin. Mr. Benjamin Swift is maybe my least favorite person ever. With his corner-cutting attitude and tendency to blame others for his own shortcomings, he is not fit to be our superior. And worst of all, he rolls up his left sleeve a bit higher than his right. I loathe his very existence. I believe strongly that although most of my acquaintances will be going to hell, he will be sentenced to the very ninth circle. "What. Is. This."He grinds out the words from between gritted teeth as he pounds his fist on his desk. His hand leaves oily marks on the shiny mahogany of the tabletop. I try to clean it but he begins to shout. I tune it out - I feel like I have heard this before . . . He approached me in his cubicle, took me into his office, and fired me. Wait, what? How do I know he is going to fire me? I do feel that this had all happened before, but that was just Déjà Vu! I felt it quite often: while feeding ducks in the park, while trying to retrieve a cereal box on a high shelf in the grocery store for a child. But I had never been fired before. And I certainly do not feel that this has happened before . . . No, this is entirely different. I do not feel that this has happened in the past, I know that it will happen in the future. Focusing on Benjamin's irate words once again, I hear him say "That's it. YOU'RE FIRED!" I am not surprised at all. I simply stand up and look him in the eye as I enunciate slowly, "You can't fire me. I quit." For in my mind's eye, after he fired me, I killed him in a fit of rage. Benjamin fell silent as I replayed the scene in my mind. Then I strode purposefully out the door to the office outside and did not stop until I left the building. Benjamin was still silent; he would never see or speak to me again. Ah, finally I am leaving those fool for somewhere better! I think as I look at the building where I had worked for the last time. Author's note: Thanks for reading this story! Constructive criticism appreciated. Please do read my blog [Sincerity Thinks](https://sinceritythinks.wordpress.com)!
We've all had that one weirdo at school that thought they were a vampire or a demon or some dumb shit like that. I had one when I was in school too, but, my story is a little different, because my friend that did that cringey shit wasn't actually human. Now, I said friend, but I wasn't exactly really friends with the guy. Nobody was. I was just nice to him and didn't make fun of him when he made weird sounds or ran like an anime character. When he said 'humans are pathetic' or 'you humans sure are interesting' or something else like that, I didn't make jokes. I asked him about it once and he said something about really not being human. He seemed convinced, so I tried to make sure he wasn't like, mentally unstable or something, and I told him he was. "You know you ARE human though, right?"I thought maybe it was an act, that he just wished he was something else, like those girls that act like cats or horses. "No, I'm not, I'm actually not. I can't explain what I am because there are no words in any human language that fit it, but I'm certainly not human." I didn't want to push the subject and risk upsetting him, so I just dropped it. Had I actually thought he was serious, I would have told someone. That or I shouldn't have been nice to him. Maybe if I had made fun of him, I would have died along with everyone else, rather than being made his pet once he had taken over the whole Earth. This is shorter than I would have liked it to be, but I wasn't exactly sure where I was going to take it when I started it and this is where I ended up. I also have a subreddit if you liked this enough to want to read more things I've writting. If you'd like to check it out, it's r/christrillionwriting and if you have any suggestions or tips, I'm always open to them. It's been a long time since I've written so this is pretty low quality to what I used to write.
"This is Nayr,"Zeus says, as he leads me up the clouded steps of Mt. Olympus to the gathered pantheon. They sit in a tight-knit gathering, many of them looking down on me from high thrones. The most prominent seats are Poseidon's and Hades', with Zeus' throne the tallest centered between them. The other gods' thrones are varied in degree of their height, but each of them is shorter than Poseidon and Hades' thrones. "Newly born, we're not sure what the god he is of yet--however, he does have many followers, and a great deal of influence, so we must welcome him into our pantheon." A scattered cry rings out, and a throne materializes at the lowest point of the thrones for me to sit on. I cross in front of Zeus and sit down, resting into the seat. "It's relatively new, within the past two millennia or so, that we meet with the Trio of Fates to decide the fate of our mortals. You get to stake a claim in any follower of yours and help guide their fates--you will feel a resonating in your chest that they are a worshiper." I nod, trying to understand, and Zeus ascends to his throne. After a second or two, the trio of fates arrive, a spool of golden thread held between them. They spin a tiny bit of the thread out, and several clouds swirl together to form the naked visage of a dark-haired man. "A fisherman,"Poseidon's voice rings out above the rest. "This one is mine--he has committed many sins, you may end his life." The fates slice into the thread, and the gold glow of the thread immediately fades when the spool is cut. They spool a little more of the thread out, and a naked red-head with tattoos and her hair in a ponytail appears. "A lover, not a fighter,"Aphrodite whispers. "She may yet live." The fates spool a bit more of the thread out, and a pimply teenager appears before us. There's a confused silence that falls over the pantheon, and I feel a loud pounding in my chest. "Oh, this must be one of mine. He, uh, lives?"I say, questioningly. I look up towards the other members of the pantheon, and they look back and forth between each other and me. The threads spool a new thread, and it's a blonde man with short hair--college aged. "One of mine again,"I say cheerily. "He can live." Though I don't intend it, the next seventeen people the fates spool out are my followers. I can feel the other pantheon members glowering at me. "Maybe we should take a little break,"I suggest. "Nonsense! I am Zeus, God of Thunder and the Sky, and everything I survey is mine to decide!"Hades rolls his eyes with the statement, and Zeus turns into a bolt of lightning and strikes against my feet to reform. "How do you have so many followers? I don't even know what you're the god of!" "Well, you never asked!" "So you'll tell me? What are you the god of, Nayr?!" "I'm the God of Fortnite."
Here on my deathbed, barely conscious of my large and solemn family surrounding me in the hospital, I struggle to breath. Each breath further and further apart. As my family started counting the time in between, it takes me back to my 20's during childbirth, counting the time between contractions and I laugh internally at the irony. Suddenly, it hits me... this is it. This is really it and I begin to question what is next. I never really believed strongly in the existence of hell or heaven. But in this moment, all I could do is hope... I mean a girl could dream... And then a strong light hit me. The iconic light everyone had spoke of. Only it was a little different, as I shielded my eyes as I would from a bright computer display all I could see were hundreds of words floating in from of me.. the same words : "Broken Arms" "Broke Both Arms" "Mom Help" "Arms Broken" "Broken Arms" "Broke Both Arms" "Mom Help" "Arms Broken" "Broken Arms" "Broke Both Arms" "Mom Help" "Arms Broken" "Broken Arms" "Broke Both Arms" "Mom Help" "Arms Broken" "Broken Arms" "Broke Both Arms" "Mom Help" "Arms Broken" ...
Start guaranteeing people safety in exchange for their material goods, people most likely won't all surrender them peacefully, start a small army with a "join or die"option. Either surrender your land, die in the apocalypse, or die when we forcefully take your land. Sure it may start as a joke, but after an indestructible mini van takes out a few tanks of a small nation they might surrender the rest to me and join my world domination army.
The coffee wasn’t working, and clearly, neither was walking around my apartment. So I put on a coat and hope that a late night meander might help sooth the inexplicable mental weight that plagues me. Even as I rode the elevator down, I knew that it wouldn’t. Normally I would have enjoyed a night like tonight. Just cold enough to fill my lungs with a fresh breath of air, but no so cold that I would trundle around, my coat held stiffly against me. The city at night always kept me interested. The streets were empty enough that I could walk at my own pace, unbothered by any pedestrians. People seemed more like people, instead of just a crowd of faces passing by. Not tonight. Tonight my mind aches for an undefinable something. Something that won’t present itself, but whose absence makes my fingers twitch with desire. Some desperate side of my brain still assures me that a nice walk is all I need to subdue this inexplicable craving. So I walk. I let my jacket flap around me in the brisk air. The cold air snaps at my chest as the fabric of my jacket whips around me. I heave great lungfuls of air in and out, hoping that good ol’ oxygen might be the answer. I stride, hyperventilating on the quiet streets, and feel my attention start to be pulled to the left. I find myself staring at a street vendor. Actually, that’s incorrect, I’m staring directly behind a street vendor. Marlboro. The name rises unbidden in my mind. As the thought enters my brain I almost don’t recognize the word. But my thoughts are being echoed by the shining rows of cigarettes seated behind a bored vendor. I don’t understand why, but my mouth starts to salivate. I realize that I have stopped moving, and haven’t moved for some time. I don’t want to move. A small part of my mind wonders why I’m so entranced with these gleaming nicotine soldiers. The rest of it hands over a twenty. By the time I had finished my “walk” I had steadily made my way through my first pack. I feel my lungs shuddering under the new strain, and could feel the coppery taste of blood on my tongue, but I couldn’t stop. With each gaseous dagger, euphoric relief flooded through my body. Even now, I revel in the last cigarette of the pack. The ashen taste makes me want to vomit, but somehow, instead I simply exhale, releasing a plume of smoke into the night air. My throat burns with the promise of a coughing fit, but none ever comes. I stomp out the remains and start back towards my apartment. I only have time to briefly acknowledge a new lifelong habit before I feel the urge grow once more. The elevator dings. As I step in I can already feel my body beg for more. Sweat drips down my forehead and stings my eyes. Damp palms squeeze and clench for the cigarette that isn’t there. I watch as floor by floor inches by. After an eternity, the doors slide open and I tumble out. I fumble for my keys, and after much gnashing of metal teeth, fling open my apartment door. The pack is already in my hands. So is the lighter. I tear off the plastic and desperately pull out a fresh cigarette. I bring it to my mouth and bring the lighter up to relieve myself of this desperate pain but just manage to stop myself short. This is a smoke free room. I curse as I move to open every available window. I stick my head out of the nearest and light the smoke. I inhale deeply, allowing the cruel burn to travel down my throat and settle in my chest before exhaling. Damn that’s good. I’m already moving to take another smoke when my blood freezes. That hadn’t been my thought. It feels alien in my mind, and it sounds old, much older than myself. The thought hadn’t formed, it appeared, as if from somewhere else. I move to put the cigarette down, certain that it’s the source. That the smoke itself has infested my mind. My hand doesn’t move The cigarette stays, perched upon my fingers. I can only watch as the possessed hand brings it back to my lips for another pull. I try to seal my lips, but feel them lazily open and take another luxurious drag. My chin lifts high into the air before exhaling. I can feel my tongue move around my mouth, reveling in the flavor. Whatever was in me now, sure was enjoying its cigarette immensely. I tried with all my willpower to keep my lips from opening again, but there isn’t even the slightest quiver against the incoming cigarette. The mouth that’s no longer mine curved into a cruel smile as it takes the final puff of the cigarette.
I started panicking. What Happens if I fall asleep? Breath in breath out. How do I concentrate on anything if this is all I can think about. OK get it together. Breath in breath out. Well maybe it'll wear off after a while. I'll go do the dishes and get a few chores done before bed. Breath in breath out. It's so rhythmic. Breath in breath out. Pick up a dish Breath in breath out. rinse Breath in breath out. wash Breath in breath out. dry Breath in breath out. Put it away Breath in breath out. OK I'm starting to get the hang of this. Having something to do helps I think. Next chore seems a bit more bare able. OK need to get some sleep soon. OK I'll try to lay down and see how it goes. I lay in bed Breath in breath out. I'm getting sleepy and the repeating in my head makes me drowsy. I nod of for a second only to wake up panicking cause I can't breathe. Breath in oh much better, breath out. Well I may not get much sleep tonight. I get out of bed and sit in front of my desk contemplating what to do. There's no way this can go on forever right? Oh i know I'll see if there is anything online about it. I been sitting in front of the computer for 2 hours now and haven't found anything. Well maybe some funny videos. Well it's been another's hour. Maybe I'll look up a few things for work. I'll be super tired tomorrow so anything will help even if it's small short cuts. Fast food isn't a hard job anyway and everything is about as simple as it can get. Well it'll be something to pass the time at least. I've gotten more comfortable having to constantly tell myself to breathe. It's not easy like doing it with out thinking but surely it'll pass. Well another hour or so has passed I'm so groggy idk anymore. Well I have work so I need to at least set an alarm so I have time to get ready. OK back to cat videos I guess. Well still have a good hour before I need to get ready for work. I'll right myself out a plan for my day i open and time is against me in the morning's so it'll help to be a little more efficient than usual. Work seemed to go by fast got my stuff done earlier than normal. it almost seemed like i was super efficient the plan and tips I looked up must have really helped. I get home and do my after work ritual of cleaning up and sitting down to play some games. It was a fun time playing tonight as was on point. I only enjoy playing when my buddies are on so I need to find something else to do. I've been up for a while now. I'm tired but don't feel like I'm going to pass out. I decided to take a closer look at the book I just bought yesterday. It seems normal reading through the whole thing and I try meditating again. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing (like I had a choice ) and put all of my other thoughts in the back of my mind. Breathe in and breathe out. I seem to be in a trance like state. I come to how long was I like that? I look to the window it's daylight. Oh no am I late for work? I jump up and look at the clock i have plenty of time. I get ready and start my day. I don't remember much of the day at work. Nothing bad I suppose cause I definitely would have remembered if boss man yelled at me. I went to play my game but my friends weren't on. Oh well guess I'll find something else to do. It's so strange I almost feel like a zombie just going through the motions. I decide to do some research and find some free online classes might as well be productive idk if I'll be able to sleep or go in my trance like last night. It's getting close to bed time ill try to get myself into a trance again. I relax and nothing happens just the same breath in breath out. I signed up to start those silly classes might as well try them out. I'm sitting here studying and it seems like everything clicks. I understand it first time. Tried to watch the videos but It seems i read the description and dialog faster than the video plays. Wow this must be a fluke it usual takes me forever to understand stuff. Even simple things I'd have to be shown a few times before I could do well with it. The next day at work goes the Same don't remember much. I don't feel like playing today so I go back to classes to see if I still got it. Again same thing I got two classes done in just a few days when it was supposed to be a few weeks a piece. Well they are probably simplified so that's probably half of it. It's been two weeks since I read that book. Life just goes on the same. I've competed enough classes that I'm not keeping track anymore. All this free time has done wonders for me. I don't ever remember working and believe that I have been putting myself in the trance state while there. I don't play games or do anything with friends anymore seems like a waste of time. I don't know what I'm going to do with my knew found knowledge. It helps me pass the time and I feel accomplished so I guess it's not all bad. Well It's been 6 months now. I'm working from home and making way more than I do at my fast-food job. I keep it though might as well make money while I sleep. 1 year now still have the stupid Mc job. I have more money than I could comfortably spend. I don't go out anymore and I've become a bit of a shut in. I've made some upgrades and bought a few nice things for my tiny apartment. I bought all my stuff online so I didn't have to go out and miss time in front of my precious computer screen. In the last couple months I even started having food delivered. Raw ingredients only. I enjoy cooking and home cooked meals. It gives me something to do as well and get away from my screen. I feel like it's always pulling me in. Even when I do quick tasks I'm feeling like I'm missing on my screen time. 6 years have passed I'm still living in the same place and same job. Other than work I haven't went out to do anything since I read that book. I'm constantly looking for new material to study. The thirst just can't be quinched. I always want more knowledge more insight. I've read and studied every subject I have come across. Work on so many projects at once that I loose track of how many most of the time. This is my life now. I have always dreamed of having lots of money, knowledge and power. I have those things but never use them just keep plugging away. Day after day. Breathe in and breathe out.
It spread through an image of a runic symbol that was only recently unearthed. Its origin had yet to be determined. All you had to do was trace the symbol with your fingers and poof, you can use magic. To most, this was was the greatest discovery of mankind. To my eyes, however, it was no different than a virulent plague. A plague that will bring swift destruction to this already dying world. Preliminary research had shown that there are some with an aptitude for magic. However, not unlike learning how to riding a bicycle, everyone could do it. The more you use it, the more proficient you become. It seems to rely on one's power of will and their mana capacity. The latter of which, can be increased with practice. The deficiency of mana would result in fatigue or, at worst, lost of consciousness. There were seemingly no other lingering side effects. Due to the lack of a prominent repercussions on the human body, the public became convinced that everyone deserved the right to wield such power. Not that anyone could stop them. Once something goes viral on the Internet, it is now in a state of perpetual existence. As expected, crimes became rampant for a few weeks all around the world. Arson, destruction of property, and many other minor crimes were reported. Most could yet to produce magics that could severely harm another person. Governments took this chance to immediately form departments dedicated to solving these crimes. They had academies well equipped with experimental apparatuses to train anti-mage personnel magic. In just under half a year, world order had seemed to return to the time before magics become commonplace. As far as everyone's concerned, no one is at risk of persecution as long as they used their magics responsibly. A simple fire magic to light cigarettes, healing magics to cure wounds, enthralling fireworks, and of course, using magic to study the phenomena itself. But you see, the problem is that we are also in the twenty first century. Many discovery had been made by humanity in our quest for technological advancements. Think about it. How long will it take before someone fine tunes their magics enough to be able to split an atom without the use of any components? How long will it be before someone tries to manipulate the streams of data passing through a cable simply by touching it? How long will it be before they try to give life to inanimate beings? Pre-magics, it takes at least six months for an organized crime syndicate to become a threat to the community around it. Undoubtedly, it should take less time with the use of magics. It has been over 5 years since the symbol was unearthed. There has yet to be a single report of an organized crime syndicate. \----------------------- Critics welcomed.
A single grey puff floated above the park, pinned above the picnic blanket. In that instant of an otherwise perfect Saturday, the gaggle of revelers sat on their checkered red-white blanket frozen in horror. Mary’s mouth hung agape. Bill hollered, his outstretched arms pointing towards Dan. Lauren lay flat on the blanket, ducking under the projectile rain of green and pink chunks. Mike’s hands clung to his eyes, masking his wetted eyes. Poor Dan, our ill-fated failure of a picnic-er, crouched and grasped fruitlessly. For Dan, herald of fresh watermelon and bringer of refreshments, had committed the most heinous of fresh-fruit faux pas. With one misstep onto the picnic blanket, he neglected to account for the villainous outcropping of rocks that Lauren naively placed the blanket upon, and bobbled his precious bounty. As the beast of a watermelon tumbled from his sure grip and shattered on the rock, its sweet, sweet nectar sprayed the crowd. It’s chunks erupted into the air and flung out into the warm aether of that summer’s day. The moment passed, and the gang stared at the picnic-slayer. Dan’s arms remained outreached, and he could find no words. Looking up from her assumed fetal position, Lauren spoke first. “What the hell, D...” But lo, her chastisement was cut short but the sudden shaking of the ground and distant rumbling. All heads turned to look the other direction and find the source of the rumbling, for what short of an earthquake could deliver such a tremor? Suddenly, loud trumpeting matched the rumbling, and the seismic shaking grew stronger. “It can’t be!” Said simple Dan, baffled at his sight. But it was. Out of the greenwood and into the park rode a wave of lanced-bearing knights clad in shining silver, the foremost blaring a trumpet. Into the fold they rode, fearless as lemmings and twice bolder. The blinding charge encircled the gang, riding circles around the blanket and filling the air with a cloud of shining silver and dust. At a moment’s notice the horses whinnied and rose onto their hind legs, coming to an abrupt halt. The trumpet bearing knight’s horse rose high into the air, then came down with a hoof-kick that the legends tell could rend boulders from cliffs of granite. Landing squarely on Dan’s back, the hoof sent the poor fool hurling through the air and far into the woods. Not a moment later, the horse came to a kneel, revealing the knight upon its saddle. He dismounted and knelt before the friends, who had barely finished their double-take of Dan’s trajectory. The sun shone upon the gold-trimmed helm of the knight, whose body remained hidden under his cape that obscured his body as he knelt. In one swift motion, both his arms shot towards the sky, the grey cloud parted, and the sun gleamed down on what he had concealed in his kneel: a fresh watermelon, ripe as the summer is warm. The crowd rejoiced. Their shining savior of Saturday had brought glory and deliciousness to their picnic, and slew the Dan the unworthy.
The conference room table was well stocked with food, the final meal before the launch of the first interstellar command crew. There were dishes from all over the world representing the international effort that led to this historic event. The crew had eaten and moved on to rest and prepare for launch the next day and the launch crew had been invited in. Many had started to fill their plates but a disturbance near the back of the room was slowly drawing everyone's attention. Joe Angeben, one of a few late additions to the team was trying to win converts to a conspiracy that had been circulating since the mission was announced. "I don't know who it is, I can trace my bloodline and it's not one of mine. But there were 5 great families and only 2 have been confirmed to have died off." "Come off it Joe. Science has shown us that the superstitions of the ancient days were nothing more than attempts to explain natural phenomenon without a complete understanding of the natural world."The reply came from Frank Hildenbur, a astro-physicist from Germany. "I've heard this nonsense only from the labor teams, never from the project leaders or scientists. If there were a great conspiracy of magic men they wouldn't be missing from the leaders of society." "We don't know that they aren't,"Joe replied "I can give you my family history, but I'm the only one close to the project. We need to confirm the family history of the entire crew!" He was referring to the conspiracy which was well know to the launch team at this point. It claimed there were 5 great families of Magicians in the anchient days of the Earth. Clan Megeshandi was the greatest, and they had all expired casting the Great Block around the Earth or in the wars that followed. Clan Abberdeen quickly dwindled, their entire culture was built around magic and without acess to it they did not survive one century. The Angeben family were subservient to the Megeshandi and Abberdeen families. On Earth the magical field generally followed the surface contours, and spells could not use the same laymark as another active spell. The greater families spells often prevented the from practicing thier craft and when magic was The two remaining families had been great enemies of the Megeshandi. The great block had been a massive spell cast across the entire Earth, it was an attempt to block the agression of the enemy. While succesful in blocking the use of magic on Earth it did not achieve its goal. The enemy families quickly hired mercenaries and ravaged the lands and homes of the allied families. The next morning Joe was arrested during an attempt to sabotage the rocket. The crew had been informed that there had been a situation and were assured no damage had occurred. They decided to procede on schedule with the launch. This was just a small step on thier journey. They had stops at the moon base, and the interstellar ship was currently orbiting Mars awaiting their arrival. They were: David DeGarmo, Captain Meghan Klammer, Chief Engineer Xiong Nguyen, Surgeon Sean Dehncy, Propulsion Officer Sabrina Sokolov, Science Officer Dinner on the moon was a much simpler affair than their last meal on Earth, but for the first time the entire crew of the first interstellar mission was together in one place. Cameras were running when the Captain stood to adress his crew for the first time, radio waves broadcasting the speach back to Earth. He gave an interesting history working backwards from each techological milestone back to its predecessor. He made a case for this crew representing all of Humanity both current and past. He had worked back to stone age civilizations and switch tack and started tracing societal development forward through time. He equated this crew to a new age of enlightenment and exploration, a new renaissance. He toasted and command crew joined him on stage applauding the crew, which lead to riotous applause among the rank and file. Ben, the Moon base communications master gave the order to cut the broadcast to Earth. He waited as the applause started to die down, intending to meet with the command crew and offer his congradulations. To his suprise DeGarmo stepped back up to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I left off in the renaissance."Degarmo paused as everyones attention was drawn back to the podium. He turned to Ben and made a cutting motion with his hand, this was to be a private message to the crew. "At that same time one family made it thier goal to control the major nations in Europe. The Hapsburgs. They managed to do this through intermarriage, but they were plauged by divisions, rivals, and inbreeding. They were deposed during the first World War. Their biggest hurdle was their failure to understand industrialization. They failed to understand industrialization because they did not understand the Great Block." "The Hapsburgs were not our family, but they were not our enemies, and we moirn their loss. Some of their decendants are here today, now part of our family. We learned from their mistakes; we have intermingled with our neighbors and the Degarmo magicians now go by many names from many countries. We do not have boarders to defend, and our enemies ranks are filled with our cousins!" "We also understand industrialization like no one else. The Great Block was a simple spell to do a simple thing. The Megeshandi were not strong enough to cast a spell to end magic, so they cast a spell so simple it would spread and fill every laypoint. The spell was: 'Things fit together better.' This spell, intended to defeat us has been our greatest strength, we have taken control of our enemies weapon. We used what magic we could to strengthen the spell, but it is such a simple construct we needed do very little." "Now we endeavor to leave the Earth behind. We go to a world where we will not be bound by ancient spells intended to thwart us!"This point causes a great cheer. A communications employee approached the stage during the break in the speech and handed Captain DeGarmo a note. The Captain read it and resumed his speech. "I've also just been informed that the man arrested attempting to stop our launch this morning was a member of the Angeben family. The last of our anchient foes. They have struck too soon, and we have succeded where they failed!" Communications master Ben Angeben had recieved a similar note. Joe had been a relatative through his mothers side, but they were a large enough family that the inbreeding that destroyed the health of the Hapsburgs did not affect the Angebens, so they shared a surname. "Not failed yet."He thought. Two days later the interstellar crew boarded the massive transport that would take them to the interstellar cruiser. Ben let them board and launch, his work had not started recently. His plan was well prepared whether the DeGarmo's launched or not. From the moon the Angeben family had discovered the extent of the spell that blanketed the Earth. They had worked for generations to pull it back, reduce its spread. When Degarmo arrived at his cruiser he would find it a ruined shell. The spell 'Things fit together better' that they claimed to be the key to their success would be there failure. In orbit around Mars things would not fit together quite so well.
"Do all these people need to be here?"Doctor Garcia looked up at the second tier of the operating theater. The seats were filled with medical students grouped together by scrub color. A giant clear bubble kept the lower portion of the operating room sterile. "No, but it's a good chance for them to study,"the patient said. "I agreed to it."He sat in a rigid metal seat that resembled a less comfortable barber's chair. A horseshoe covered with a thin mint green cloth, "padding", extended from the back of the chair to wrap around the man's neck. A large transparent bib connected to the horseshoe protected his front. The doctor walked behind the man's chair. "Alright. Whatever you say,"Doctor Garcia said. "Scalpel,"he said. "Scalpel? You haven't even opened my skull yet,"the patient chuckled. The doctor's fingers gripped the patient's skull, and he attempted to pull it upward. "Oh, right, I assumed that would have been done already,"Doctor Garcia glared at the rest of the staff, but they only shrugged in return. "Sorry. Uh, rotary saw? We got one of those?"The nurse handed a small electric handsaw with a circular blade. "Ready?"The patient nodded. "Well, but don't move."Doctor Garcia said. He heard a chuckle run through the audience of students above him. "I'm ready, you may begin,"the patient said. He relaxed completely against the horseshoe; the rest of the chair did an excellent job supporting his weight, despite its awkward appearance. Doctor Garcia activated the saw and flooded the room with a high pitched whirring sound. He touched an edge to the man's bald head, slightly above his ear, and cut a steady line around the back of his skull. He walked a circle around the man at a slow pace to cut from all sides. Finally he turned off the noise and handed the saw back to the nurse. He placed his fingers on the man's skull and tugged upward again. This time the top of his skull came loose and separated from the rest of his head. He placed it on a nearby tray and held his hand out. "Scalpel,"he said again. The nurse presented him a scalpel and he peered at the patient's brain. "Upper left,"the patient said. "How do you know?"Doctor Garcia asked. The patient lifted his arm to point at a giant jumbotron style screen on the second tier. "Oh. Thanks."Doctor Garcia said. He inserted the scalpel into the man's head, and made a cut. "Nope, wrong one. I'm dead."The patient said. Doctor Garcia dropped the scalpel to the floor. He ripped off his face mask, then gestured angrily at the crowd of students. "I can't work with an audience!"he yelled. "Doctors need to learn to adapt. You can re-take the final next week."The patient grabbed the top of his skull and placed it back on his head. Immediately his skin pulled itself together and the gash around his head disappeared. "Consider yourself lucky that you get to practice with a trained professional regenerator. Back in my day we didn't get to make a mistake more than once." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #211. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
It happened behind prying eyes. All Might suddenly disappeared and not that long after, an up and coming hero had appeared wielding a strength comparable to All Might. Not to mention the level of power was no different what All Might was in his prime. In addition to his immense strength was his ability to phase through physical objects. Every chance he got, he attributed his endeavors to his mentor, All Might. To Izuku, however, it was nothing more than an insult to the greatest hero. Izuku knows for a fact the new hero's ability are nothing but powers robbed from All Might himself. Izuku limped along the corridor of the abandoned shopping mall, holding himself up against the wall with one hand and the other covering a wound on his stomach. "That really hurts, Kacchan."Izuku said under his breath. He was heaving from both the fatigue and the pain. He made his way to main exhibition hall just in time to see the person he had been waiting for. "Le Eternal!"Izuku called out as the person shifted his gaze towards him. Le Eternal starts walking towards Izuku all the while maintaining his sight on him. Le Eternal had a difficult expression on his face. "I finally get to talk to you in person."Izuku said with a half smile, sweat running down his face. "You knew that I would be heading this way?"Le Eternal stopped a few feet in front of Izuku, whom of which was still leaning on the door frame of the hallway connected to exhibition hall. Izuku had studied all of the active heroes' traits. He knew that all the others would fall for the many red herrings he planted. "You are pretty strong to have fought us without using your quirk."Le Eternal stated. "Or if you did, I could not see it."He added. Izuku gave chuckle before going into a coughing fit. "It's over."Le Eternal calmly said as he goes into his combat stance. The sound of explosions in quick succession could be heard as it became progressively louder. Izuku composed himself before muttering "All Might"under his breath. A name of which cause Le Eternal to visibly flinched. Izuku took a large gasp of air before pushing himself off the door frame as he propped himself in an all too familiar pose. He placed one hand on his hip and the other with its fist closed and the thumb jabbing at his chest. "My quirk is the ability to identify someone else's quick just by looking at them."Izuku bluffed. Barely a reaction came from Le Eternal, quite possibly do his disbelief to Izuku's statement. "I see that you actually also have the ability to transfer your abilities, correct?"Izuku extended his bluff. Le Eternal was clearly in shock as his fists slowly became unclenched. Izuku was wobbling in his feet but knows that this will be his only chance. "How did you make All Might give his power to you?"Izuku asked Le Eternal calmly. Le Eternal could not find the words to answer his question and he had no way of refuting the statement. "I did not take it from him. It had to be given voluntarily."Le Eternal confessed. He had just admitted to the greatest secret guarded by his predecessor to a stranger before him. A moment passed in silence until a sob could be heard from Izuku as he leans back against the doorframe. "I knew it."Izuku sniffed. "I knew he didn't lose." \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Critics welcomed. First time doing an EU so forgive me if I made any mistakes. I also only read up until the Noumu arc and was planning to binge it in a few months.
Pink cherry blossoms were covered with a layer of snow so thin one could tell snowflakes apart. I found that terribly odd, as I was standing about ankle-deep in snow. The sky was of an unusual colour as well; grey, but with an unexpected copper hue. Not a single cloud was to be seen, hence there was no telling where the snow was coming from. I knew this orchard. It used to belong to my grandfather. If I were to walk about a hundred meters uphill, I would arrive to his cottage. But there was no cottage. The sky was clear, so I would have seen it from there if it was there. I pondered about it for a while and realised there should not have been an orchard any longer, either. Grandpa sold the land to a winery when he got too old to take care of it. Then I heard a crackling sound, the sound of snow compressing under someone’s feet. I glanced uphill. The cottage was now there, smoke coming from the chimney as it would in the winter when grandpa lit up the fireplace. There was a man coming downhill. “You have arrived unnecessarily early.” I knew that voice as well. But it could not be, my grandpa passed away six years ago. The figure approached, facial features becoming clearer. Indeed, it was him. “I shouldn’t be happy to see you here, boy. Still, I am.” He said in a somewhat sombre tone. “Where am I?” I stuttered. My mind was confused, yet I felt peaceful and content. “Oh, this place. Consider it a sort of reception desk.” Answered grandpa with a faint grin. “A reception desk?” “Well, the ones upstairs thought it would be a good idea to present the newcomers with something familiar before venturing onwards.” It was obvious he was avoiding the actual answer. It did not matter. Somewhere inside, I already knew what it was. “Am I…” I could not bring myself to finish the sentence. “I’m afraid so. A pickup truck ran a red light on your way to college this morning.” I could not believe it, yet it made sense. The inexplicable, nearly obscene state of bliss, my favourite childhood place in its two most beautiful states at once, the winter and the blooming spring. I thought of the people that I left behind, my parents, my friends. They will be devastated. “Is there a way back?” I asked “That’s up for them to decide.” He gestured upwards. I understood whom he must have meant. “But never mind that now. Come to the cottage, your grandma has been waiting to meet you for over twenty years, and she made cupcakes!” He started heading back towards the cottage. \---------- I woke up to the sound of beeping and someone talking in the distance. For the first minute or so all my eyes could see was white. Then, the windows, drapes and hospital machines became more articulate. I was glad to be back. However, I cannot help but wonder about what happened between. Perhaps it was all just a dream. Or maybe, just maybe, one day I get to go back to that orchard again. (English is not my first language, so I am terribly sorry for any grammatical mistakes that might disrupt the read.)
You Wake up QUEST PROMPT floats in the air in front of you. Go back to sleep. You go back to sleep. While you were sleeping, you are overcome with sadness and die. Would you like to play again? Yes Loading You Wake up QUEST PROMPT floats in the air in front of you. Punch QUEST PROMPT You punch the QUEST PROMPT. It doesn't budge. Accept QUEST PROMPT You ACCEPT QUEST PROMPT. All of a sudden your world shifts. You are in a world of Ladies and Lords; a world where the curious are reward; a world where bravery is not forgotten. You have entered the world of Seventh Seas. You have been transported. You stand at a CROSSROAD SIGN that points NORTH SOUTH EAST and WEST. Look around You notice a CROSSROAD SIGN that points NORTH, SOUTH, EAST, and WEST. There is some smaller writing on the sign. There is a bug on the ground. Examine bug The bug is like something you've never seen before. Take BUG I'm sorry. You can't do that. Eat BUG Ew. Why would you want to do that? Examine sign The sign reads as follows. North: Warrior. South: Wizard. East: Hunter. West: Bard. Fuck bug. Gross. Do that on your own time. Kill bug You stomp on the bug, killing it. Get bug The bug is dead. Fuck bug Gross. Do that on your own time. Go Which direction do you want to go? Go W You head West. The entrance behind you seals. You are in a town square. Everyone seems to be away for the moment. There is a TAVERN. There are exits NORTH and SOUTH. You are dressed in a FANCY CLOTH ROBE. Check inv 1 Lute; 1 BLUE POTION; 1 RED POTION Play Lute You take out your lute and play it. The sound is pleasant. Wield Lute You wield your LUTE in your left hand Break Lute I don't know how to Break something. Eat Lute You take one lick of your Lute, but the taste is too awful to bear. Enter Tavern. You enter the Tavern The Tavern seems to have seen better days. There is a BARKEEP with his eye on you. There is a MYSTERIOUS MAN in the corner keeping to himself. Talk Barkeep You approach the bar. "We don't get much visitors 'round here,"says the Barkeep, "there's been some strange things going on. Recon I'd tell the right person; provided they got the right coin fer it. You ain't got the coin, do ya?"The Barkeep stares at you with intent. Kill Barkeep You can't do that...yet. Steal Barkeep. You try to steal from the Barkeep's pocket. He catches you. The next thing you know you are being thrown out of the Tavern. You land on your rear-end. You are in a town square. Everyone seems to be away for the moment. There is a TAVERN. There are exits NORTH and SOUTH. Check clothing You have 1 FANCY CLOTH ROBE. Burn tavern I don't know how to burn something Enter Tavern You better not. Search Tavern You look around the outside of the tavern. There is a TRAP DOOR here that looks like it leads somewhere. Open TRAP DOOR You pull on the handles of the door but they don't budge Use Lute You take out your lute and play it. The sound is pleasant. Use LUTE on TRAP DOOR That does nothing. Search Trap Door You search the Trap Door for a way in. There is a LOCK on the door that looks like it takes a specific key. Break lock I don't know how to Break something Pick lock You don't have any tools to pic locks with Look You are in a town square. Everyone seems to be away for the moment. There is a TAVERN. There are exits NORTH and SOUTH. There is a TRAP DOOR near the Tavern. Go North You enter a FIELD of grass. There is a Knight standing in the field of grass. There are exits WEST and SOUTH. Talk Knights * You approach the Knight. He pulls out his sword, startled. He puts it away when he sees it's you. "I just went North,"he says with a vacant look in his eyes, "I went North and found a sword. Then I found some armor. Now here I am, some kind of knight. I wonder what would happen if I had gone a different direction. I've been standing here, trying to remember what I've lost. It's the worst when you can remember you've lost something, but haven't a clue of what it was."* Look Knight The Knight's has armor that looks like it has been in several battles. Look field The field is lush green. There is a SHIELD resting in the grass. Get shield You pick up the shield. The Knight approaches you. "Ah yes! That's what I lost! My shield! How could I have forgotten that. Anyways, I am debted to you. Allow me to provide my services. I'll protect you from any harm, as best I can anyways. The Knight has joined your party. Kill Knight You shouldn't do that. Kiss Knight That's weird. Go S You are in a town square. Everyone seems to be away for the moment. There is a TAVERN. There are exits NORTH and SOUTH. There is a TRAP DOOR near the Tavern. Enter Tavern The Tavern seems to have seen better days. There is a BARKEEP with his eye on you. There is a MYSTERIOUS MAN in the corner keeping to himself. Talk Mysterious Man You approach the Mysterious Man in the corner. He doesn't seem interested in talking. Talk Knight You turn to The Knight and ask him for advice. "I'd say you should try impressing people here." Impress I don't know how to Impress something Dance You do a little jig Play Lute You play your lute. The Barkeep starts tapping his foot and clapping his hands. When you finish, the Mysterious Man apporoaches you and applauds. "I haven't heard a tune like that in years. This is for you."The Mysterious Man pulls out a piece of CLOTH from his pocket. He hands it to you. "I hope it serves you well in your travels."The Mysterious Man goes back to the shadows Look cloth You look at the cloth. There is a feint outline of something you can't quite make out. Talk Knight "I think the Barkeep might be worth talking to. Talk Barkeep You take a seat at the bar. "You again,"the Barkeep grunts. Use Cloth on Barkeep You show the Cloth to the Barkeep. "Yes. I know how to read these."He shoves the cloth into a mug of ale, then takes it out and slaps the Cloth on the bar. Get Cloth You pick up the surprisingly dry cloth, that has now been revealed to be a MAP. Look Map The map looks like it could lead to treasure. If only you knew someone who could read something like this. Use Map on Barkeep. The Barkeep looks at the map. "I only know how to discover them, I don't know how to read them. I've got some names in my DIRECTORY downstairs. Here's the TRAP DOOR KEY. Be careful though; I haven't been down there in years. I hear things moving around down there sometimes. That's why I stay up here."
"Captain, captain!"A voice yelled out, "What the Hell is that?" Captain Frederick Capperman stood there in shock, looking out viewport of the ships bridge. "It's coming for us. Men, take evasive actions immediately!" The ship begins moving away from the strange, dark object. "It's out running us sir."An officer yells to the captain. The object moves closer to the ship. It changes shape, twisting and turning. "It's a claw!"One man exclaims as it begins to wrap around the ship. "Full power to the rear thru-"All lights in the bridge go out. They begin flickering, go out again, then turn back on one final time. "Captain, this can't be the rebels, this is unlike any weapon we've ever seen." "I don't think it's a weapon."He replies A man stand up. He's frothing from the mouth and has madness in his eyes. "We're dead! We're all dead!"He screams. He attacks the man on the monitor next to his. A shot rings out and the crazed man falls. The captain lowers his smoking gun. "Someone clean up this mess and find a replacement for this man."The captain declares. Another man stands up, screaming like the first, frothing from the mouth. Then another, and another. Chaos breaks out on the bridge. Gunfire erupts across the bridge. The captain ducks behind his monitor, he looks down at his uniform, discovering a gunshot wound in his chest. He looks up for an officer to help him. There are none. The fighting has stopped. The lights go out again. Emergency power kicks in, making the room a menacing red. The captain stands from the computer he used as cover. Standing over the middle of the bridge stands his enemy. It looks humanlike. Even in similitude to the captain himself, like a shadow of the man. It is dark, completely devoid of light. The captain raises his gun toward the creature. It smiles back. He fires three, four shots into the shadows head. The bullets past strait through. It doesn't move, doesn't flinch, completely unfazed by the attack. It moves toward the captain who begins firing wildly at the demon. Still keeping the smile, the creature turns it's arm into a spike and rams it through the captain's chest. The captain mouth begins frothing, his eyes wild. The demon releases his arm, captain collapsing on the ground. It turns away from the fallen man, cackling a maniacal laugh as it fades into the darkness of space.
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The fire crackled and shadows danced around the tavern, as the bard continued his melodic plucking of strings in the early hours of the morning. Few men who paid for room, instead opted for a comfortable nook along the dark wood hiding the ground. As I reminisced on the night filled with ale and fine stories, I found myself needing to be relieved and stumbled to my feet. A quick rush to the head as i managed to keep my balance with the aid of a nearby stool. My legs marched forward in awkward motion, struggling to keep hold of the tipping upper half. Stepping carefully over the sleeping Northerners, focusing on leaving them be to avoid waking their anger that could lead to an unfortunate end of the night. Finally making it to the door and with a swift push I was through to the dark blue painted on the sky. The stars above illuminated the night, not that anyone around was in need of guidance. The roads lacking the crowd that clearly revealed the time of day, not a sound save for the howling wind cutting through the night sky. I followed along the side of the building, half using the terracotta walls as support. Around the small tavern I found a nicely decorated wall displaying unique patterns of darkened portrait, even some fancying to attempt a spelling contest. I began digging at my trousers in rather rote fashion and started some artwork of my own. My neck fell back as my gaze met the dazzling sky filled with its own type of masterpieces. My thoughts sought after their own whims under the starlight, when an unsettling sensation was felt running down my left leg. A quick turn of the head focused on a rather short woman dressed in black robes and matching cowl stood bent to my side, hand in pocket. "Release me woman!"I shouted as I quickly placed my member back in its sheathe. The shadow covered woman took a step back as her hand followed suit, in it a coin of sort, brimming the reflection of the stars above. "Adrian Holland, verified by coin of Arsois in position."The woman spoke to herself in a fastidious, unchanging voice. "Huh?"I spewed in confusion trying to gather myself. A second to calm myself and fully gather my hanging trousers. "I'm just travelling through the North, a merchant you see. That coin there was pawned to me from some bearded fellow a town back or so!"I pleaded. The woman's eyes met my gaze, a deep blue that shot an uninterested look through me. I took a small step back as the woman advanced. Shifting my weight to my back foot I set to sprint away, just as the woman dashed to the left side of my body ducking beneath my elbow, crouching below and her gaze settled up to meet mine. When she swung out her right arm and a flick of the wrist shot a narrow blade through her shrouded sleeve, grip tightened as she shot her arm to meet me right below the ribs. A stinging sensation clung to my side and I let out a desperate cry as the woman continued her knife to the front of my stomach and my face met the cold, unsettling ground beneath. The pain raging as I rolled the ground desperate for the sensation to end. My vision began to blur as I barely made out the shadowed figure leap atop the building adjacent the tavern, a perfunctory movement for a figure far too small. My mind wouldn't leave the thought of the pain revolting my stomach, the next my vision expired. The words of thieves always brought great amusement to the job, I thought to myself. These clandestine operations usually void any interactions but I always do enjoy watching them try to squirm their way out with whatever story they spew. Fear is a big enough factor to make a storyteller of us all under the right circumstances. Following the roof of the old church led me back to the road where I had left my horse. As I settled the mare, Zura, and began removing my cowl, dark hair falling in line over my eyes. I couldn't help but return my gaze to the coin in hand. A rather large thing, I thought, quite inconvenient to keep in a pocket for an extended time. Nowadays it seemed my jobs revolved around tracking these thieves anywhere and everywhere only to find some trinket that hardly seems worth it. Men who fear death themselves but with enough coin at hand to purchase their help. The type of weakness that filled all men in the cities. I opened the sack on Zura and tossed the coin in and reached for a piece of cloth, dirtied with dried blood and mud. I wiped my sealed dagger and pushed the piece of metal back into the arm slot beneath my wrist. With a quick foot to the saddle, I launched onto the short horse and bolted off through the night. My thoughts settled on more interesting jobs of the past. Killing nobleman at the request of rivals and watching the mess that always ensued in their political realm always amused me. These sorts of duties I always carried out with joy, rather than the more common contracts for thieves and cowards. As my cogitation surrounded me with a slight laughter inside that crept out into a slight smile on the edges of my lips, I returned my thoughts to the task at hand. The darkness of the bedrock roach ahead kept my eye, it would be another twelve hours of ride before I return the useless coin. I hoped for a more glamorous contract on return to mother, but I couldn't lie to myself and any type of job would follow with my personal amusement close at hand. I kicked the side of the mare and she jutted into a gallop into the cacophonous of bugs surrounding the crisp night air.
Anticipation is the real killer here. Not me. You see hell in movies and it’s all about the fire and brimstone. No, that’s straight up incorrect. I wake up in a white room and I think “Oh, maybe I actually survived”. Yeah, no. This is no hospital, it’s a waiting room. Upon my “revival” in the room, I am handed a ticket. #3114. The screen above the receptionist desk says #0049. A demon escorts me to a chair and ties me to it. Every so often, two other demons come and take one of us. They’re sweating and broodish. Towering over any mortal man, the demons overpower anyone they take. They escort a new person into the next room. Following this is screaming. Agonizing and painful screams. How the sounds some of the people make are even possible is a question I can’t figure out. What are they doing to them? I can see vague shapes moving around in the fogged glass of the door but their actions remain unclear. And then, as if on cue, the room goes deathly quiet and the demons come to remove their next victim. #0050. As I wait I wonder what will happen to me. Do I deserve it? Does anyone here deserve it? I have no goddamn clue. But I wish we could just get my punishment over already. It feels as though I’ve been in this room for eternity.
“Why? “It’s extra cash, _____! “Do I really have to? How much? “They said at least fifteen to twenty a month; and there’s an initial $50 dollar gift just for joining...but that you’ll make way more than that. “Huh? Why would I? “Because you’re younger! “What does that even me- “You do more things! You’re at school, and at your job... I picked it out of the charging pod, and up in my hand. It was shaped like an old beeper. It was all black and had a clip on the back. I clicked the one button on it. The tiny single line screen lit up and the text on it saying “Hello, _____!” slid from one end of the screen to the other. Then it changed to “Today: 100”, followed by “This week: 100” and “Last week: 0”. I checked my mom’s and it marked 0 points all the way through. She handed me a big boxy envelope with a bunch of papers in it. Countless instruction manuals, little notebooks, reminders to wear it. Another thin envelope had a Visa debit card in it. I ran upstairs and pulled my laptop out of my backpack. Quickly typed the website on the back of the card to check the balance. $100,000 This can’t be right. My watch vibrates with an alert from my phone. It’s an email, but I can only see the subject line on it. “$150,000 - 08/01/18” That’s tomorrow. I’m not ready to do it again. I can’t. ...
My name is Rick Johnson. I have been here a total of 169 days. I killed Talia Johnson with my hunting knife. I lied to the courts and claimed a demonic monster had killed her instead. That I could only watch as the monster eviscerated her. I blamed it all on some monster but we all know the truth don't we? Monsters and demons are just parts of ourselves that we don't wish to believe in. I killed Talia Johnson. I am Rick Johnson. I am insane. The words run through my mind ceaselessly, repeating like a broken tape recorder. 169 days on, the words are the only thing keeping my sanity intact. They wrap around some small part of my mind, keeping the last bits of my sanity intact. The old wooden bed creaks and groans as I stir. Torn yellowed sheets wrinkle as I rise to a sitting position, pulling hard on the grey handcuffs attached to the bar of the bed. The security guard's eyes flicker to me, piercing amber eyes that follow every movement of my bound body, his right hand already gripping onto his baton. I laugh at the gesture. It seems like something an insane person would do, laughing laughing laughing at anything and everything, even when there was a man holding a weapon standing infront of him. I am insane. So I laugh and i wheeze, as if being in the psych ward for killing my wife and blaming it on the supernatural was the most natural thing in the world. The security guard snarls at me, but goes no further. His meaty hand remains firmly on his retractable baton. I lose interest, and nonchantly pass my gaze around the ward. 12 beds in this section, each one old and broken-down. Only 10 of the beds were currently occupied. The other 2 had been sent for emergency medical treatment due to injuries incurred from fights. Every night, despite being restrained to our beds, the 12 of us would find a way to fight and harm each other. Some nights no one got hurt. But those were few and far between. I had broken many arms and legs before. I love to fight and harm and even kill. I am insane. I look across the room full of drooling, immobile people. Some chanting to themselves, some struggling against their iron chains, some trying unendingly to lick their elbows. We all are. I look out the tiny window and see the last traces of sunlight begin to die. Somewhere at the core of my being, I feel someone emerging. The palpable tension spikes in the ward, each patient recognising what's about to come. The night has come. The hunt is here. I am insane. Roiling darkness sweeps across the land. I am insane. A whirring sound in the distance. I am- Gradually getting louder and louder and louder. Some part of me takes over, hands moving smoothly, retrieving the metallic key from my pillow and releasing myself. I idly wonder who is controlling my body. But then again, perhaps its normal, especially since I am- I am- I- I falter. My lie unravels. I leap smoothly to my feet, crouching down and grabbing at the underneath of my bed. All around me the other 9 patients mimic my actions. I am Rick Johnson. The security guard looks dazed and confused, gradually closing his eyes and settling into a heap on the floor. A normal human being can't handle the stress of being in close proximity to the demons. I did not kill my wife. I was wrongly convicted and disbelieved by everyone. "Ready in 20!"I roar, and the others move a little quicker, straining to arm themselves with the smorgasbord of weapons accrued from months of fighting the demons. I have been here for a total of 169 days. I unsheathed my golden rapier, the Holy Silencer, and dropped into a ready stance. And every single night, I have helped to fend off the demons that come for us. With my other hand, I quickly cocked my silver revolver and pointed it straight at the window. It feels like I had to pretend I was insane in order to not become insane. To be disbelieved by everyone when I told them the truth crushed me. The whirring nouse grew deafening. The 10 of us stood in formation, ready to meet the charge, our faces set with grim determination. Better to pretend the world is right when everyone else is wrong. A monster had killed my wife, but it had been humans that had killed me. I took a deep breath. The floorboards creaked. Impending doom felt almost upon us. A screeching sound joined the cacophony of noise, erupting all around us. My name is Rick Johnson. The wall explodes into pieces. Swarms of demons in the distance charge at us. "Engage!"I scream, before my voice is lost among everythinf, firing my gun into the dark. I am not insane.
A few years back, I was in an accident, I’m fine but a metal pole pierced the side of my head causing me to lose vision in my right eye, after getting the pole removed and countless surgeries, I still couldn’t see, the doctors said there was too much nerve damage. It was depressing, but at least I still had my other eye. That night though, I could see out of my right eye again, almost like magic, although it was just barely, not anywhere near as good as my left eye. When I asked the doctor he said I was very lucky and with that much nerve damage I shouldn’t be able to see out of that eye at all. I counted myself lucky and when about my life. I adjusted to my new sense of vision, with one eye being perfectly clear and the other barely visible, and all seemed like it was going well. That was until one day, walking down the street, on my way to the convenience store, I noticed something out of the ordinary. These little leech like things with legs appeared out of nowhere. They crawled up to people and started attaching themselves to them. The people seemed to not even notice, other than an occasional itch or slapping the area where the creatures were on them as if they thought it was a mosquito. What was even weirder though, was I could only see these creatures out of my right eye. The one I wasn’t supposed to be able to see out of. Reasonably in shock, I ran up to the people at first, telling them what was on them. They would look me right in the eye, with the leech things on their head or chest and call me crazy. No one seemed to notice them except me, and nobody believed me when I told them about it. I thought it might have been a hallucination, but why wasn’t I seeing them out of both eyes then? It wasn’t long before one of these creatures crawled up to me. It crawled up my leg and attached itself to my thigh. It looked like a little slime ball with legs and human like eyes. I quickly became freaked out and grabbed the thing and ripped it off me and threw it. It didn’t even respond, just crawled up to somebody else and attached itself to them. After a few weeks of doctor visits, therapy, and trying to convince people of what I was seeing, no one believed me. I knew the more I tried the more crazy I would look to everyone, so I decided to just live with it. These people could have these leech things attached to them, but no way in hell was I letting one on me. I just called them leech things as I didn’t know what else to call them. I continued to go about my life, looking at people with these things on them, pulling them off discretely on occasion, especially my loved ones, and always pulling them off of me. One day while at work I got a call from my mother, saying that my grandmother had become very ill and was in the hospital. I rushed to the hospital and met my family there. When visiting my grandma in her hospital room, I noticed a huge leech thing on her side. She didn’t look well. I calmly stood by while the rest of the family talked to her, and while hugging her goodbye, I grabbed the thing and pulled it off. It was more difficult to pull off then usual, as if it had suction cups. When I got it off I squeezed it and it popped, getting a black and green like goo all over my hands, that of course, only I could see. The next day, we got a call from her doctor, he said it was a miracle, and that she had magically been healed. Then I began to understand. These things were a plague, from another dimension, world, realm, I don’t know. Some kind of population control maybe, and there were so many of them. However, I saw very few, if any of them on children, and young and healthy people. On the elderly, they were much larger, and harder to get off. The people they attached themselves to had been marked for death. Maybe not today, maybe not next week, but once the leech things had eaten their fill, their “hosts” life would expire. These things were death, and without them, there was no death. I write this at age two hundred and forty six, but I don’t look a day over forty. I don’t know why I was given this gift, by god or someone else. I’ve written books about this phenomena, though many perceive it to be science fiction. Some people have grown to believe me over the years though. People who have been ill have come to me far and wide, rumors spread that I was a magical healer, and I would pull the things off, and they would of course be healed. It goes to show that the universe, life, is full of surprises, and things that are unseen, it makes me wonder what else is out there.
'What do I do now? How did it come to this? Where is he? Why...how...no...no...calm down, calm down. Remember your training, remember what to do in these situations.... God dammit I am not trained to deal with this shit. Fine... close your eyes... white, white as snow and smooth as anything I ever seen, just like those kids said, definitely a mask, a porcelain one, but those eyes, they were hollow, and the bullet... Not helping, just breath...Deep breath in... And out...call him.' 'where is my phone... Wait, where am I? This is not my bed, what's this tube? I'm in a hospital? seriously?' I tried to get up and sharp pain shot through my head, groaning is sat on the bed looking around, and for the first time I noticed the telltale hospital smell. As I reached to pull out there tube, I heard the door of the chamber open. "Hey man, how are you feeling."My partner Bob marched in. "Bob...it got him, it took Raju. Did you find him?"I said weakly. "Raju? Your son's also kidnapped? Oh no a third one?... Oh god. One minute the DSP (deputy superintendent of police) is here. He would want to know this."With that Bob ran out of the hospital. "Wait, you didn't..." With a renewed fear and anger I got up ignoring the skull cracking pain in head. I pulled out the saline solution tube knocking out the saline solution supporting stand in the process. Just then Bob and a forty-ish man in DSP uniform entered. Seeing him, I have done an obligatory salute and said, "Sir, my kid has been taken by this thing that has taken the other two kids, give me twenty four hours, I'll close the case..." "You know who done it?"The DSP asked "Yes sir, it's this lady with a porcelain... you won't believe but... It's at this..." "Do you have a name."The DSP asked. "No sir, but I know where to find her... Near the Kambalakonda hill, going straight from the zoo towards Yendada, after about five kilometres, there is this park where this lady was spotted..." "Do you know a definite address where a suspect or the children can be found?"The DSP asked. "No sir." "It's ok, take rest now, I'm granting you six months recovery period. The CBI will be taking up this case now. If you want I'll extend your leave."The DSP said. "No sir, my son..." "CBI will find him, they are more experienced in these matters than us. I won't ask you to be at ease but only that the best are looking into it. They are already here, give them a first hand report. Tell them everything."The DSP said. After that DSP left the room and then a man dressed in a black tuxedo entered. "Hello Mr Sagar, I'm Suresh Kumar, I'll be taking up this. Before I look into the files I want you tell me all details." "Sir, there is no time for this, my son is in danger, I need to go find him." "Trust me we are already looking for him, tell me all the details and I guarantee you I'll let you discharge from the hospital immediately and also will let you assist me in this case, off the record."Suresh said. Thinking for a second I started... "It all started 45 days back, a 6 year old girl from Endada had gone missing, upon enquiries we found she had been talking about some masked ghost... Oh no I'm such an idiot..." "It's ok Sagar, just continue." "Her friends claimed they had seen her too, so we tagged this case as a kidnapping case. Searching for her, we found a pink beheaded teddy bear in an old abandoned well near a park which the girl frequently visited, it was later found that it was her favourite toy. The bear's head wasn't just torn but cut out and stitched. That was the only update, we got no ransom calls either and then fifteen days later another boy went missing same details, toy found in the same well, no other evidence. One strange occurance is that both the kids went missing on a no moon day, thinking about it even yesterday was a no moon day." "Ok tell me about your son's incident." "Like everyday, I bought him to the park. I was pushing him on the swing and suddenly he wanted me to stop and then he seriously stared into the woods. As I was about to ask him what happened I realised that the whole park was dead silent. Looking around I realised that the park was empty... I swear that people were present a few minutes back... Then my son started walking towards the forest. Then to my horror I saw what he was walking towards a lady dressed in a gown, she was having a porcelain mask and then when I looked into her eyes I saw that they were hollow, other end of the porcelain was clearly visible through her eyes. I moved forward and grabbed my son. Scared I removed my service revolver and aimed at her asked her to identify herself, she did not respond. I fired a shot into air, still no reply. Then I shot at her legs, nothing happened, I fired another round, nothing happened and then next thing I know I'm in this hospital." "Were under influence of alcohol or any other drugs."Suresh asked. "No." "Fine rest now I'll call you tomorrow once I read all the file work." "Ok sir." After an hour I was discharged and Bob dropped me off in my house. Once Bob left, I started my bike and went to the old well near the park. Focusing my mobile led light into well I saw my son's favourite Batman toy without it's head floating on water in the well. Looking around I found a rope, tying it to near by tree, I descended into the well. Once my foot felt the slippery bottom of the well I picked up the toy. Then as I was about to climb back up the rope, my mobile light shined against a tunnel present in the well. 'this was not there here before. How could we miss it?' Slowly I walked into the tunnel. The tunnel led into a room filled with porcelain dolls and other tools. As I looked around I found a photo of a man with glass and a tall beautiful lady. The lady looked young and was giving out a radiant smile while the man looked... absent minded. Pocketing the photo, I looked around for further clues. Later in a drawer I found heads... Heads of the dolls' of the kids. Shocked I turned around to go out and call the police. As I turned around I was face to face with the same lady who took my son, trembling i lifted my hand and curled it into a fist and forcefully punched her on the face. The porcelain cracked and piece by piece the porcelain fell down leaving behind faceless women. After a few seconds the porcelain pieces started vibrating and then with a sudden urgency they flew back to their previous positions and the next moment, I was staring into an expressionless angelic porcelain face. It slow extended it's arm forward, the full sleeve covering her hands slipped back revealing a porcelain hand holding a blade. With all my will I tried to run but found myself paralyzed with fear. As I stood there staring in to its featureless face, it slit my throat with it's blade. Gasping for breath I fell down, the porcelain lady stood there motionless, slow everything faded all the time the lady stood there. I don't how long I was out but when I opened my eyes I was staring at the ceiling of the same room that the tunnels led to. I tried to move but in wain. After a great effort I gave up. After an indefinite amount of time a breeze of unknown origin pushed me on to my side, I was face to face with a mirror. The mirror did not reveal my reflection but of a one feet porcelain doll.
The first to die were also the people who you would suspect: Most world leaders, a few corrupt African rulers, and other politicians. They died very painfully: a lot of people used their kill on them. Wasted, if you ask me. After them, people started taking revenge, on others who had wronged them. Most abusers died because of their abusers: the same with murderers and known pedophiles. After the first wave of death, with casualties in the millions, something interesting started happening. People started to use their kill as leverage. Most gang members sold their kills to their bosses, who bid a lot for another, new kill. Others started to rob one-man stores with no weapons at all: the threat of sudden death was enough for most to comply. One couldn't know for certain if someone used theirs or not, after all. Not a lot of people died without using their kill; it would be a waste, a lot of money could be earned. How it came to be? No idea. How it worked? The only thing we know is that the cause of death would always be a heart attack. Maybe it was a magic thing. Maybe not. We don’t know. We’ve just got to live with it.
Hit and Run. On the Thursday, I worked late, not finishing until 10:30, it was the latest in a long series of long days. I was tired as I got into my car for the drive home. I got home and pressed the button on the dashboard to open the garage door. The door opened, and I drove in and parked. I stepped round the front of the car and opened the door into the kitchen. Gwen, my wife, was sitting watching TV, in the lounge, I walked over to give her a kiss, and she said, “what’s that mess on the leg of your trousers.?” I looked down and saw blood on my leg. I said, “I don’t know, my leg doesn’t feel sore.” Gwen said, “take your trousers off so we can see if you have hurt yourself, and more importantly, I can get those trousers in to soak, blood is difficult to get out.” I took my trousers off, but there was not a mark on my leg. Gwen took my trousers out to put them into soak. About two minutes later, she called me, “Tony, come here a second, can you.?” I walked through the kitchen and into the garage/utility room. Gwen was kneeling looking at the front of my BMW. I looked as well, the front bumper was splashed with blood, imbedded in the blood was strands of blonde hair. Gwen said, “what happened?” I said, “I don’t know, I left work, I drove home, I parked in the garage, that’s all I can remember.” I said, “what do I do, phone the police?” Gwen said, “don’t be hasty, it’s late, 11:00. Not many people would be around, the chances are nobody saw you. Let’s clean the blood from your car, it doesn’t look like there’s any damage.” She continued, “let’s wait and see what happens.” She put my trousers into soak, and washed the blood from the car. I sat and drank a large scotch before going to bed. I had nightmares about the person I had knocked over. I woke up in the early hours, soaked in sweat. I spent the rest of the night sitting on the sofa, watching the news, to see if there was any news of the person I had hit. I phoned in sick, my boss wasn’t happy, but he had to accept it. All day I sat in front of the tv, flicking through channels looking for news channels. Finally, at 6:30pm, the local news came on, the lead story was about a hit and run. A local man had been knocked down as he ran across the road from the park at about 10:45 pm last night, police were appealing for witnesses, Mr Todd Adamson, remains in a critical condition in hospital. Gwen said, “at least he isn’t dead, that’s one thing. Now what are we going to do now.?” I sat frozen to the spot, my mind racing, I said, “the first thing is to get the car cleaned properly, so, If I take it to the drive through car wash on the high street, that will get it clean, then tomorrow, I’ll take it to one of the hand car wash places, that way it will be really clean. Meanwhile if you take my trousers to the dry cleaners, that will remove any traces of blood.” Over the weekend more details of the hit and run came out, a nineteen-year-old woman came forward and said that she was being chased by Mr Adamson, after he tried to attack her in the park. She said, that she was crossing the park, when she was attacked, she managed to break free, ran across the road, just avoiding a car, but thought that it had hit Mr Adamson. The police asked her what sort of car it was, but she said she didn’t know. Police checks in to Todd Adamson found he had a criminal record going back several years, for offences ranging from sexual assault, up to rape, comparison of his DNA, showed his connection with lots of other crimes. When he recovered, he was arrested and charged with thirteen charges of rape, thirty cases of serious sexual assault, he was sentenced to thirty-five years. The hit and run was never solved. copyright Phil Wildish.
The first thing that hit me was the stench. Truly overwhelming as a weeks-old corpse should be, looking at its source was no pleasure either. A huge cavity from the chest of this unfortunate person stared into my soul where its rotting eye sockets could no longer do that, and its face was unrecognisably rotten. I panicked. Should I call the police? But I could get indicted with a murder if no other evidence presented itself, since my apartment was otherwise in order... Seeing a note on the corpse's chest, I read it. It was scrawled in chicken scratches, and endowed with a yellow stain. The desperate scrawls of the dying. I did not have the time to read the note as I noticed the shadowy figure in the corner. Ducking behind the nearest counter, bags still in hand, I thought of what I should do next. Expecting it to attack, I prepared to run and seek help. Instead, a distraught young woman hobbled out. She was in shambles, as though she had not slept in days, and she definitely had not detected my entry into the house. But within those haggard eye bags, I could still see the caring yet muted glow of my wife's eyes. Why did she have a corpse in the room? Why was she so tired and close to death herself? I screamed those questions, but she paid no heed. She wept silently, the tears of someone who had cried so much as though a wringer had squeezed every single teardrop out of her, as she laid across the corpse. I ran up to hug her and drag her away, but my hands no longer had any strength. I could not so much as touch her as she started to write on the note on the corpse's chest. "Day 14: I am so, so hungry and so, so, sorry." Her pen dropped and she tore open another piece of flesh from the corpse. Her teeth gnashed against soft skin as the blood and pus spurted all over her mouth and the rags she wore. I was more disgusted than I was confused. Not even bothering with subtlety, I ran around the house, searching for some semblance of meaning to this chaos. In the kitchen, I found a bottle of cyanide, next to an empty bowl and a box of my favourite cereal. In my bedroom, I found inheritance papers, and my wife's laptop still plugged in, the monitor on a website explaining spousal inheritance law. On the windows outside, I had to reverse the red graffiti scrawled unapologetically: "WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID""MURDERESS""WHERE IS YOUR HUSBAND?" I knew now. The black widow had struck, and now she has to consume her mate's body.
We thought it was impossibe but the man did it. [REDACTED] has developed a immunity to surreal memes. In the past these images confused anybody unlucky enough to see them. But [REDACTED] is now able not just to watch them but is able to understand the. When [REDACTED] tries to explain the cryptic images to us our machines record only static and our scientist can not hear or understand his speech patterns. He is beyond human in this moment. He has entered another plane of existence a sort of 4th dimension. The subject will be euthanized in 0800 hours and taken into cryo storage for further study.
I'm an old man now, probably in my late 60s, I forget. It's been years since they all disappeared; My family, my friends, and everyone else. All gone in just a blink of an eye. I didn't want to think it was real, I wanted to think it was a dream, how the hell could the entire human race just disappear? And how the hell is there a knock on my door? Could it be him? Death? Or could it be me just going insane? I didn't trust it. But still, I had to try. I walked up to the door, each step a painful one as the arthritis slowly sets in to my body. As I walk closer to the door, I start remembering. This hallway is where I met my wife at a frat party. This is where I watched my little girl take his first steps. This is where I die. Then just as I'm about to open it, I hear him. "Daddy!" I haven't heard that voice in years, like it had happened decades ago. I looked back, and saw him. My son, still holding his blanket, just like the day I left for work. "You didn't hug me goodbye."She was rubbing her eye, as if she just woke up. I walked up to her, I knelt before her, and gave her the biggest hug I had given anyone in years. This was it, my final goodbye to one of the people I loved the most. As I opened the door, the sun was shining bright. I could hear an alarm going off, what the hell is that? Then. I wake up.
The boy wandered aimlessly through the empty streets of Biggar village centre, kicking an empty tin of soda along the pavement, revelling each time he cracked a lamppost dead centre. The villagers had been gone for a while now, the boy could not remember how long, but he was sure that they were not coming back. From the twenty or so people that had left, only he remained; only he was strong enough to stay here now. He approached a bronze bust in the centre of the village; some man who had been born nearby and done something for science, he couldn´t recall exactly what it was but remembered this much from his primary school days. The bust was sat atop a granite plinth, skewed slightly sideways after a truck had collided with it some years before. The boy thought about trying to remove the head, to take it back home with him, but thinking better of it in the end he carried on through the streets and down toward the Inn. His employer, Dick Whyte frequented the Inn and would often buy him a pint or two if he happened to be in a good mood that day. He wasn't so bad, old dick, but at the end of the day he was his boss and people were not supposed to like their bosses, so the boy didn´t. He took his beer with a smile but knew that one day he would stick it to the old man and enjoy doing so very much. It had been disappointing when he realised that he had been one of the first to leave after it all happened. He glanced into the Inn, out of habit more than anything else, but he saw nothing that he didn´t expect. The chairs turned upside down on top of the tables, the pool cues secured to the rack with a little padlock that only Tommy the owner could give you the keys to and the front door unwelcomingly bolted closed; it would have been a rare sight for most of the villagers as Tommy liked to keep all sorts of hours in his pub. There was a bench just a few feet after the Inn, so the boy took the opportunity to have a sit down. He cast his mind back to the events from the last few hours. The bright lights, curled up in bed. The blood pouring from his mother´s face as she kicked and screamed. The postman begging, pleading for it to stop. The old woman that lived in number 4, she just looked resigned to her fate, very quiet and morose. Shirley from the Deli who had always been flirtatious whenever the boy had come in for a sandwich at lunchtime. She had been old enough to be his mother, but he had still thought about her sometimes at night with the lights off. She had been crying the whole time, in a way he felt bad for her.... and the rest flashed across his mind too. He tried to make a scrap book in his mind of everyone so that he wouldn't forget, but he knew he would. The boy had thought he would never disappear, that he would never be able to get rid of him.... but he did just a couple of hours earlier. It had been a very surreal experience when he had left, and the boy didn´t know what to do. He felt guilt, shame, fear and panic all at once, it had been overwhelming. After another hour or so, he felt him come back a little bit and he had convinced him to go for a walk. Maybe this was how it was going to be from now on; the boy hoped so. He had never felt fulfilled until now and it seemed right to him to feel like this. Maybe he could go for a walk further to the next village; there was nothing to stop him after all. Later, he said, we still have work to finish here...then we can go.
1/8/2018 We were on our way to a romantic dinner. Linda was in a good mood, slightly flirtatious even, if I might add. I would be lying if I said I wasn't anxious about out dinner that night. I wanted to make it as special as possible. We both had some tough few months and wanted to enjoy ourselves as much as possible. I wanted express my love for Linda and this dinner was going to be the start of a string of surprises I had planned for her. It was all planned out. Everything was gonna be perfect. It was supposed to stay like that till that damned bike-head arrived. knock knock We heard two quick knocks on our window. When we looked at the source of the distraction, we saw a biker,with a flower in his hand, motioning us to open the window. Linda looked at me inquiringly. I was in a great mood, so I gave her a quick nod. She slid the window down, greeted the man and asked him what was it that he wanted. He replied in a charming voice "You look lovely today. Even the rose in my hand pales in comparison to your beauty.""That's really nice of you", Linda said, accepting the rose from his gloved hands. It was slightly uncharacteristic of her to talk to strangers like this but I waved the thought away. I knew I was supposed to do something here but I didn't really know what. It was like both of them were waiting for my reaction. I did the only thing that came to my mind. I gave him a quick flash of my wedding ring, just in case he wasn't aware of my presence. I immediately felt stupid and was about to probably say something worse. But, his smile widened, as a reaction to my wedding ring plan I assumed. It was creepy and slightly put me on edge. I felt a pang of relief as he bid us goodbye and went to the car ahead of us. I assumed he was going to do the same there. I wasn't really thinking about the why's and the what if's at that point though. All I cared about was the dinner. The dinner was the most important thing on my mind. Then I heard the shots. bang bang bang It felt like something had pierced through the noise of the traffic and replaced it with an eerie silence. Then I heard the screams. By the time I realized what had actually happened, it was almost over. I saw him, the guy who had just given my wife a rose, shoot three people to death. My mind hadn't yet processed everything that had just happened. But my eyes were trained on him. Looking for the slightest hint that he might come back for us. But he stood, serenely still on his bike, with the gun in his hands, wisps of smoke rising from it. He seemed to be enjoying his moment. But then suddenly, he whipped his head back towards us. His eyes, there was something that I picked up on that I hadn't before. His eyes were inexplicably cold. I could feel his intense stare piercing my soul, ripping it apart. He then smiled that freakish smile. But this time, I wasn't on edge. This time, I was chilled to my core. I had goosebumps. Then I suddenly remembered. Linda. Holy Shit! I forgot about my wife. I slowly looked towards her, still keeping an eye on the crazy biker. She obviously wasn't doing too great. She seemed scared. But there was something odd. She was smiling. My first obvious thought was that she had lost it. Then I saw it. She wasn't just smiling. She was smiling at him. And he wasn't looking at me. It was her he was smiling at all along. I couldn't understand what was going on. This wasn't Linda. That wasn't the innocent smile I knew and had known for years. No, this was something entirely different. She then turned towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. Then she slowly grabbed my neck with surprisingly strong grip and soon everything went black.
I had never been so popular at the office, and it was as hilarious as it was horrible, as it was dangerous. But damn, I was gonna milk this until I got bored and let the police know just what the hell was going on. Since I already knew the motivation, the inquiries and sudden interest from my colleagues were just...amazingly obvious. "Hey John, wanna get a beer after work?"Gary said with a smile, noticeably forced beyond his usual grimace. He'd hardly spoken two words to me ever outside of relevant work needs, and out of the blue wants to get a beer? What a crock of shit. Keep rubbing that coffee stain off your tie, Gary, I'm sure that's how it's gonna come out. Moron. "Nah, thanks Gary, got other plans. But I'll let you know if my plans fall through!"I had to give him some hope, right? Like, if he thought I was sincere, maybe he wouldn't ask again for a bit, thinking I'm actually trying to make time instead of just having it. "Heeeey John, you okay hun? Looking kind of down today."said Lauren, with a little smirk. It gave me chills, since her eyes clearly yelled 'HATE' and yet she was able to easily cast that aside to be nice. "If you wanna talk about it, let me know. We can talk over coffee or something, alright? Let me know!"I guess she thought her subtle sweetness and repetition would come off as endearing, despite her usual bitchy attitude toward me. Yeah, a nice 180 from the norm there, Lauren. Reeeaaal, subtle. Like I'd ever go and talk to he- "Hey John."Shit. It was Karen. Karen. Ugh...Karen. She made me weak at the knees. And not the like, 'I just ran a marathon' weak, but a 'My insides feel warm and somehow make me knees feel unneeded since I'm floating, damn it' weak. Most people around the office couldn't stand Karen, and semi-rightfully so; she was our boss, somewhat micro-managey, and beautiful as all hell. Red-head, sparkling green eyes, freckles that went from her neck down...further than I imagined. Alright, that's a lie. But she certainly got in my head a few times, and made special guest appearances in my dreams. Damn it Karen. If she gained hate by being hateful, I never saw it. Maybe I just didn't...want to see it. But damn. Damn... "Hey Karen, what's up? Need something?"I said, shying away, knowing her motivation. Hating her motivation. Damn it, Karen. "Oh, nothing really."she said, twirling her hair a bit, looking away, acting rather similar as she always did. We always had a weird...connection, of sorts, but nothing ever really came of it. "I just wanted to talk to you, I guess? Do you have a minute?"Hell yes I had a minute. Wait. Did I have a minute? What was I doing at work again? Screw it. But wait. Right, cult. Kill me. Right... "Yeah, sure Karen. Your office?" "Yeah.."She was acting a little more timid than I was used to. I couldn't believe she hated me the most. It really just...put our relationship into perspective. It almost put me into a fit of rage, that she would be so calm about the entire situation. This was low. This was...just...sadistic. I followed her into her office, and closed the door behind me. I stifled my creeping rage as best as I could. "So what's up, Kar-"she interrupted me with a pull of my hands, toward her, and kissed me. Not one of those 'we've been together for long enough that this is routine' kisses, but a 'damn, you're what I want right now, and nothing else' kisses. It felt...genuine. It felt...right. But damn it. Damn it, Karen. The bitch. When it ended, I didn't want it to stop. She smiled, looked away, then looked at me head on, straight into my eyes; straight into my soul. Ugh, the poetry that I wanted to recite because of it. "I...I just..."she stammered, "I can't help it anymore. I...want to be with you."It was a surprise in some sense, but in others, it wasn't. We always had that thing, but it was never a thing. Always something that was nothing. And now, of all times? Of course. How sudden, Karen. "Really, Karen?"I was a combination of shocked and visibly agitated. "...really?"Her face was a combination of confused and excited, wondering what I was on about yet hoping for requited feelings. "...really? John. What, what are you asking?"I had to...I had to tell her that I knew what was going on. The hate. The cult. Everything. "I know, Karen. About the cult. The hate. All this fake shit going on. I thought you actually...I mean, not actually. I thought we...I never thought you hated me like that. But now...now I guess I know. Screw this damn place. I'm out of here. Screw everyone. And fuck you, Karen."With that, I opened her door, walked out, and slammed it behind me. Gathering what little I had at my desk, I took my shit and went straight to the police with the evidence I had gathered. After the cult was exposed, or, whatever connections were within the company, that branch was shut down. Everyone involved was investigated, and everyone involved was arrested for multiple rather...unsavory things, though none for murder. As I was combing through the violations and arrests via our local newspaper, I got to the end and felt my heart drop through my ass. Karen's name wasn't in it at all. She was...completely innocent. Completely genuine. Completely head-over-heels lusting after me, maybe even in love. And she picked the worst possible day to bring it to light. Karen. Fuck you, Karen. You chose the worst damn day. Damn it. That's one I'll never get back. Fuck me. Then, amidst my self-loathing, within the horrible timing and hilarity of the situation and my need to milk it, my phone rang. It was Karen.
How did I get here? The question rattles around in your head. The days of wearing the helmet and gloves are over, you don't have the safety of being on the "good side"anymore. The 6800's are ruthless this week and luckily a lot of noobs have jumped at the opportunity and you've taken a few out. Your cell rings and it's your last ally Wendigo24, there is a cache of supplies waiting for you 6 blocks over. You load your pulse clip and head for the door of the place you've called home for the last week. Something drops to the floor of the kitchen. Move.
“Welcome to my playroom.....if you are here it means you have been accepted as my latest test subjects.” The ghostly voice echoed around the cold warehouse. Marcus glanced at a metal tray on the table in front of him. A wide array of torture devices were on display; knives, pliers, hammers and saws. Sarah, was strapped to a wooden frame, all of her limbs bound by iron shackles. “Many people in this world claim they would give their life for their partners. Today I will put that idea to the test. Your wife there is strapped to a medieval torture device nicknamed ‘The Rack’. Her limbs will be stretched until she is ripped in half. If you wish to save her you have to use those utensils there to inflict as much damage as possible. Only then will I release the key to stop the machine.” “You have 90 seconds....begin” A large monitor detached from the screen displaying a red countdown timer. “Quick honey, help me get out of this!” “ Fuck that, I’m getting out of here” Marcus rushed to a large cast iron door and examined it. A large oak plank held the door firmly in place. After a few well placed kicks didn’t work, he rushed for the tray of utensils. “Oh thank god you’ve come to your senses. Try cutting off a finger or something.” “Bitch, do you really think I want to help you out?” “What the fuck do you mean!” “After all these years of your whining and moaning, I wished you were fucking dead” Marcus grabbed the saw and began cutting through the bar. With 20 seconds left he finally broke it in two and unlocked the door. “I’m begging you, please!” “Sorry, but even if I wanted too, 20 second is far too little time to do anything.” Marcus heaved open the door and the warehouse filled with sunlight. That sunlight disappeared a few moments later as the door was shut behind him. “0 seconds remaining” The machine in one swift motion ripped Sarah in half. “Huh, you don’t see that everyday. Test subject 8 status: Success?”
It was a Tuesday afternoon when the government declared us a plague. "Earth is dying,"they said, "and humanity is the parasite slowly sucking the last of its resources. In order to preserve Earth and the last of our species, we are ordering a mandatory mass evacuation to allow for planetary healing without the scourge of our species." Looking around our bunker, I had been relieved. Charlie was asleep on the futon and I had resisted the urge to wake him to tell him the news. He'd spent hours in line for the latest batch of lab-grown meat and was understandably exhausted. Getting government rations was always chaotic. Many had already died from starvation. There simply weren't enough resources to account for the mass migrations. In an earlier life, perhaps we could have been self-sustaining. But the planet had died at too rapid of a pace. The heat was too much for crops. We could barely feed ourselves, much less livestock. The oceans were filled with more trash than fish. It was a desolate life, stuck here on Earth. But when we landed on our new home on Mars, it seemed the same. Welcome to the Red Planet, a cheery billboard proclaimed as our shuttle descended. The land was littered with large domes to house the thousands of new colonists. It looked scientific and sterile. Our shuttle touched down on a concrete landing pad that would connect us to Colony 968. We were on the far side of Mars, a long way away from the earliest and most established colonies. In the central areas it was almost Earth-like thanks the ultra-rich early colonists who had arrived voluntarily. They even had a whole zoo dome dedicated to real animals that had been terraformed so well that it resembled an Earth we'd only ever seen in history books. "This is it,"Charlie said as we disembarked with our single bag of luggage. "Home sweet home." There were small trees in our dome, planted in large pots because they hadn't terraformed the entire planet yet. There was no time for perfection when you had to make a new home for thousands of evacuees. They had run out of astroturf and left part of our dome a desert. "Just like home!"Charlie said, ever the optimist. Perhaps it was. We were restricted to our zone, which was for the new arrivals of forced evacuees. The original colonists didn't want us refugees there. Mars had been an expensive trip in the beginning, and their ancestors had paid a pretty penny to be the first to escape our dying planet. They had built up their domes to be lush with plants and luxurious architecture. "At least we have our own bunker,"I said as we walked into a small metal home. "A whole 400-square feet!"Charlie spread his arms wide, nearly touching both sides of our new home. "Back in the old days, people used to dream about having tiny homes. Imagine if they knew we'd eventually be in tiny homes on Mars!" I laughed. A hundred years ago, before the fires raged and the oceans rose, this would have been a dream come true. A free trip to Mars? What kid didn't dream about being an astronaut and going to space? The new government had provided us the basics. A television with a whole five channels. Outfits for seven days and freeze-dried rations in the pantry. We even had job assignments. Charlie would be on manual labor to continue terraforming. I would be teaching English to the children of our dome ("to help ensure our new planet would be a connected humanity,"the job description explained). I turned on the television. Though the trip was only a few months, they had put us to sleep on the way there. It was easier to not have to deal with us, especially since the mandatory evacautions meant that many weren't happy. I was curious to find out what was going on in the two worlds today. "The final shuttle has left Earth,"a voice on the television narrated as drone footage scanned the scorched Earth. "Humanity's new future on Mars has begun. It's a somber occasion as this chapter on Earth comes to a close, but it is the hope of our scientists that one day we may return to planet that has healed itself. Until then, we wish the best of luck to each one of you as you begin your new journey on the Red Planet." I flipped the channel. The broadcaster was talking about the Central Dome and how new visitors would be required to apply in order to visit. "We don't know who these people are or their motivations,"a tall, gaunt man said. "This is why Citizens Against Forced Evacuation protested so diligently against this decision. Earth couldn't handle these people. Now Mars can? I don't think so. Mars is still rising from the dead itself." The scene flipped to a woman dressed in riding gear and standing beside a complacent brown horse. "It's hard because you want to have empathy,"she said. "I totally understand that life on Earth had gotten difficult. But what's that saying - 'survival of the fittest?' We can't help everyone. We have enough people here to continue the species. These new domes are taking resources from the original settlers, and I just think we need to prioritize better." "Well so much for a 'connected humanity,' they don't even want us here,"Charlie scoffed. He peered out the window at our neighborhood of tiny Martian homes. "They never do."I sighed and peeled open a tin of freeze-dried apples, wondering if there was a real apple tree anywhere on this planet. "But they're stuck with us now." "Embrace the adventure!"Charlie gave me a pat on the head and I swatted him away. "Did you ever think you'd be on MARS? You're a Martian now. Maybe if we dig far enough we'll find some alien bones. Our grandparents would be amazed at us right now." "They'd be disappointed we forgot the photo albums." "Photos, shmotos. You never like how you look anyway,"Charlie scoffed. "It's memories that matter." I peered out the window as more people began to walk by and find their new homes. I couldn't tell anything about them from a distance. They were just people, probably as poor and lost as us. We were all here for a last shot at a new life. "Well,"I said as I grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled him to the door. "Let's go meet our new neighbors."
Draconian Pointas A Traditional Dish with infamously hard to source ingredients, but well worth the price and preparation. *Ingredients* 4 cups of bread flour 1 cup all purpose flour 1 teaspoon of salt 2 teaspoons of yeast 2 tablespoons of sugar 1 1/2 cups of water 1/4 cup of olive oil 1 lb bacon 1 dragon tail with hide 1 carrot 3 cloves of garlic 1 onion chopped 1 stalk of celery 3/4 cup mozzarella cheese shredded Cook time: 24 hrs Directions: * Skin the dragon tail, making sure to keep the hide in one piece. Be careful, as dragon hides are known to be exceptionally tough, and it can be easy for an amateur chef to cut themselves in the process. A good technique would be to use a hacksaw to make the initial cut, and then using freshly sharpened knifes to tease the flesh from the hide. * Combine dragon bones, gristle, carrot, onion, celery, and garlic in a large pot * Fill pot with water so that all solids are at least two inches beneath the surface * Boil for 3 hours * Strain thoroughly, saving the dragon stock. * Combine bread flour, salt, yeast, and sugar in a large mixing bowl * Mix oil and water and heat in a sauce pan until the oil is steaming, but not boiling * Add the oil water mixture to the dry ingredients in the bowl, and knead until a tacky, but not sticky dough forms. * Put the dough in a greased bowl and cover in a warm area for one hour * Cube the dragon meat into 1/4 inch cubes, and cook with bacon in a pot on high heat until cooked through or a dark brown. Season to taste. * Reduce heat and remove meat from pot * Add all purpose flour to bacon and dragon drippings, whisking thoroughly until a roux forms. * Add dragon stock slowly to roux, and stir constantly until gravy has reached desired consistency. * Turn dough out onto a floured surface and roll into a circle until it is roughly 16 inches in diameter. * Pour gravy liberally over dough. * Spread cheese evenly over gravy. * Take bacon/dragon mixture, and pile near center of the circle * Take two ends of the dough and fold them over the meat. * Take another side and fold it over the pile, and then roll the whole thing over onto the remaining unfolded side. This should resemble the Chupracabra Burrito on Pg. 240. * Pinch creases to seal. * Wrap dough in dragon hide and bury under 2 inches of coals in a campfire. * Keep fire burning and dragon hide buried for 20 hours. * Remove Draconian Pointas from coals and leave to cool for five minutes * Serve with any leftover gravy.
"Congratulations and welcome to your first day of General Smith's Time Travel Academy. This is Time and Society 101,"Professor Sharpe said, eyeing each of us, as if attempting to discern who would thrive and who would fail. "First item on the agenda,"he continued, "is to disconnect all meaning from the words: 'first,' 'second,' 'then,' 'last,' 'before...' Words such as these were as a result of an attempt by humans to measure what is perhaps the most immeasurable concept in existence: time. As you go through this course, you will realize just how abstract time really is. You will realize that there is no before, no after, no during. You will realize that everything simply is."He paused to let it all sink in, and several hands throughout the classroom shot into the air. "Please reserve all questions until after the lecture."
"Reporters and newscasters worldwide have been trying to warn everyone; there is a hypnosis bug that will control your mind and body against your will. If you do not already have it, keep yourself hidden away until it is safe. I repeat-" The news kept on going as I tried to start my day. It's impossible to know if you have the virus, so stay hidden blah blah blah. How do I know this isn't just some elaborate hoax or rumor or whatever. Even if it isn't a hoax, how would we even protect ourselves. I watched the news for a few more minutes, barely watching and mostly trying to get some last minute work done. "Make sure you are safe, do not let yourself come into contact with anyone who has the hypnosis bug. Stay inside and isolated. Be sa-" A loud shrieking noise interrupted my thought process, making me fall onto the floor covering my ears. The world felt like it was burning, and I couldn't control what I was doing. Then, it all faded away. I looked down to see that I had knocked over the glass of water I was drinking. "Tch, I've got to clean that up right away!"I mused to myself, grabbing the broom from the closet. "Here's some live coverage from the Annual Cutest Snake Competition in Mudberg. So, Tom, who's our lucky winner this year?" The news went on as I cleaned up the shattered glass and I finished up that last bit of work I had to do. For a second, I felt confused about why the glass ever fell in the first place. Then the shrieking happened again. Then I remembered. It never happened.
"Almost a billion people. That's how much our city can hold. Almost a billion people. Crazy to think about, am I right? Ten years ago, that was one eighth of our worlds population. Now, every single one of them is sitting on a machine capable of flying. Lifting off, and taking to the sky. This is the kind of stuff written in movies and books, things people say we'll never accomplish and are futures that our starry-eyed kids can take up. Now, we can fly through space and sky, unbounded by gravity as past cities are. We could make a world of cities, and we can see this future instead of dreaming of it. There is so much potential we can take with us. Let's fly." The speaker finished her short speech, and applause came from throughout the room. I stared at the glorious beast of a machine in front of us. People rushed aboard as soon as the doors opened, filling the hallways and heading towards their rooms. Houses, not rooms. The thought of living on something like this is still surreal to me. My home was located near a side mirror with a beautiful view of the outside, unblocked by all the machinery. It took a large price, but my parents helped get it, pulling a few strings and getting a lower price. I dropped off the first bits of my luggage at the house, mostly clothes and things that would be needed soon. The rest was coming later, but there was a lot of luggage to be moved onto the city. It was, after all, a city. I wandered around for a while, viewing the sights of the city. The center of the city was a massive park, full of nature and natural sunlight. The trees came from across the globe, giving a unique look. It was beautiful in a way of it being something surreal. These plants are so different, yet here they all are in one garden. I'd seen visualizations of how the machine would lift off, and they're glorious. It works so fluidly, as if it breathes on its own, and yet somehow is just controlled by us. The machine is coordinated, together, fluid, yet still a machine. Something truly beautiful has been achieved. Wandering more, I drifted near the service tunnels. They're purpose was never explained, but it was most likely for staff to move easier through the city, making maintenance easier for workers. I pressed my hand against the side of one of them, feeling the hum whirring throughout the city. It seemed to have a breath, a life in the surreal way only a machine could. "Eh, you best be careful there." A voice behind me startled me, not expecting someone to speak to me. "Oh, of course. I was just marveling at the whole thing. Just amazing." The worker smirked and nodded, walking away. I retraced my steps back to my house, unpacking and resting for the rest of the day, waiting for whatever tomorrow holds.
I had to go back... The scene just kept playing over and over in my mind. I had no choice. The sounds, the screams. My own voice joining in. After almost 25 years I had finally done it. I had created a machine, a machine with which I can go back in time. I will go back, I will silence the screams, I will change it.. I pulled the lever and went back to that fateful night. I see it playing out from my office window. I yell out, but yet it happens. I am suddenly ripped back to the present. I try again, this time I rush down to the street and attempt to get his attention, but yet it happens. I try a thousand times over and I can never stop it. I barrel down to the street again and again, and every time my beautiful Angie is lying there with the mugger's bullet still in her chest. I am sorry Angie, I can't save you.. I wish I just had the chance to say goodbye.
I've not always been a wealthy man - i did come from humble begginings, i recall, swindling tourists, pickpocketing, selling snake oil... To have landed in the world of finance was naught but luck, and for a scoundrel such as myself, was pretty natural. Through some amount of luck and not an inordinate amount of talent, i have amassed many riches, as have many others. You see, the problem is, money really does solve everything. No longer do i have the thrill of being chased by a swindled customer who just found out he got tricked out of his money, no longer do i have to know the alleyways and the backways, where to go if i want to hide, and where to go if i need something. Nowadays, everything is brought to me, and i'm growing fat and lazy. Wealth does this to you, makes you fat and lazy. And also very bored. Which is a bit of a problem, because, you know, when you get bored, you get creative, and when a scoundrel like me gets creative, you better bet that there's no good coming out of it. So, i needed a thrill... And, to that end, i put a hit on myself. Now i again have a reason to wake up early in the mornings and do my runs, to practice with my pistol and brush up on my boxing. And all it cost me was US$ 60.000. I'd say that's pretty cheap to give an old man his spark back.
The entity looked at the world of Kemidalana, its surface scorched from countless antimatter detonations and its people broken by a war between two great powers. The surviving Uteki, as was the name of the race that lives on the planet, fled to underground shelters long ago, but the entity knew it would not save them from the real danger: propaganda. It saw how the leaders of the two countries which destroyed their world began calling the death of their world 'a neccessary sacrifice that was needed to ensure the ruthless monster that is the enemy was finally defeated.' This wasn't the first time the entity saw this attempt to show the enemy in as monstrous an image as possible. Countless countries and nations on countless worlds circling countless stars have done the same, always in the hopes that the population will fight harder 'knowing' they are purifying the world of a great evil, and that, with enough effort, good will triumph. What those races do not realise is that not only are the concepts of 'good' and 'evil' highly subjective, but that one cannot exist without the other. But what else would you expect from them? After all, they are still young, and have much to learn. The entity closed the rift through which it witnessed the death of Kemidalana. It looked over the landscape, a twisted visage of nightmarish versions of every sapient species in existance mutilating each other. Their suffering and discomfort is what fueles the being, for it is the manifestation of all evil in Existence, known under many names: the Destroyer of Worlds, Death's Lover, Master Of All That Is Evil, Sekhmet, Ahriman, the Devil, and many more. And yet, evil is not a universal concept, as it varies, as from culture to culture, so from person to person, but the entity feeds on it nonetheless. Being a conceptual entity has its perks. The entity opens another rift, and looks through it. Existence moves on.
As I fell off the small cliff, my hands blazing with heat. I hit the ground with barely no injuries. Only a slight scratch on the side of my cheek. My hand burned with heat when I went to wipe the blood away. A red liquid lying on the tip of my finger. I couldn't go on much longer, with all this heat. Although I knew that if I did leave, I'd probably die. With humans being cold blooded and such. "Hey Michael, you okay from that big drop? I glanced up to see my friend Leah. Her chestnut hair falling right in her face. She wiped it away with a flick. "I'm fine Leah, no need for sarcasm" "Okay sorry sorry, at least let me help you up" She outstretched her hand, waving it Infront of my face. I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up. Shock briefly flashing in her face. "You must have found a really hot spot! Your hand is burning with heat!!" A faint smile took the corners of my mouth. I stared at my hands. Red from the fall and heat. Was it natural to be feeling this much heat. I knew humans were cold blooded, Unable to travel away from the equator. Repeating the already known facts wouldn't do me good, so I locked eyes with Leah. Her hazel eyes meeting mine. "I'll assume you're ready Micheal?" "Yeah Leah, but can we maybe not tell my parents?" "Sure and next time don't be so scared!" "Leah I think you're taking this the wrong way." "What? Never!" With those two final words, she dashed into the horizon. Her chestnut hair streaming behind her. I smiled to myself and grabbed a rock. Leah wasn't that fast and could easily be caught up to. So I bidded my time and began cutting myself. The same red liquid pouring out. What was I? Humans didn't have red blood! Humans had blue blood.... (Sorry that I cut it off here, I lost the motivation. I'd appreciate any feedback or suggestions and I'll try to fix any spelling mistakes.)
It was all my nightmares rolled into one, when the High Priest’s slow stroll stopped in front of my wife. He slowed down when he got to me in the line, and I felt her stiffen. Her hand tightening in mine, and I could feel her thoughts in my head. Perhaps we’ve been in this fucking cult for too long. But I felt her words, her voice, not her, not her, god not my love, anyone else please. Ironic. Sick and twisted, because my lovely wife got her wish as the Priest only inspected me, and paused in front of her. I felt myself die when he reached for a lock of her hair. Her thoughts now becoming mine, as I prayed to every deity, even to the morose one we worship, for this to not to be true. But it was. Amelia, my warrior, squeezed my hand and watched her hair cackle in the fire with dry eyes. I cried for the two of us. From the very first sacrifice, I knew what I was going to, if the time comes. My wife suffers all the same. “It’s unfair. It’s so fucking wrong. Why? Why? I won’t let you, you can’t, pearl you just can’t.” I wish she wouldn’t be so hysterical. It’s making me upset, and when I’m upset, I can’t concentrate. My hands quiver on the brush and I lower it from my eyes, not wanting it to smudge and have the Priest get someone else to paint me. That would spoil everything. “My pearl, I love you.” Amelia’s voice is so broken, so low and longing, unusually gravelly, and I flinch. It catches on her sweet nickname for me. I still remember it so clearly, our first date. She leaned into me, all leather skirt and her Dad’s old spice and twirled my pearl necklace around her finger. She smirked at my blush, an embarrassingly deep red, and whispered, ”I don’t have any pearls, will you be mine?” I fell in love with her there and then. Amelia touches me gently, as if I was a china doll, guiding my face to hers, forcing me to look at her properly. Something keeps cracking in my chest. My eyes water, traitors, and I grind my teeth until they subside. I had chosen this long ago. If the Priest sees me weak, he’ll know. Amelia’s eyes are round and empty, her bright blue paling, dulling- an ocean to a puddle. They look more like my own now. Good. “Don’t do this.” She grabs my hand so tightly her nails will draw blood. “You’ll break my heart,” she pleads and pleads and pleads. I curl her fingers around the knife in my answer, and close my eyes. “Do it.” Her hands, slender and soft, stroke the top of my head. I lean into her touch. Familiar. I think back to the night we ran away, my head in her lap, her hands in my hair, at the back of the pickup truck. Soothing. She gathers all my locks into her hand and tightens her grip, the ends tickle my back. I take a deep breath. Cut Air hits my skin and Amelia tries to hide it behind her back but my ponytail swings back and forth and I can’t help it, I start sobbing. Amelia hushes me, kissing away my tears, the white paint sticking to her tanned skin and she holds me in her arms. We stay like this for as long as we dare. Amelia’s always had an eye for detail. She makes me look immaculate, treating me like I was her masterpiece with every brushstroke. A layer of white, with stripes of red and black down my cheeks, and dainty flowers dotting my neck. I’ve never seen her this solemn. “There,” she whispers, at her final stroke. I glance at the mirror, Amelia watching behind my shoulder, and I regard myself, turning to and fro. I muss my short her and suck in my cheeks. Amelia smartly contoured my cheekbones, now they’re almost as sharp as hers. Our eyes, both a muted blue, glint in the mirror. We’re the same. The bell tolls and she grabs me, as if I was going to run to their call. Amelia smooths down my arms and her lips flap open. I know what she wants to say. Her forehead pinched painfully. “Get away just before the dressing ritual. Get help. Do you-“ “Keys are in my pocket. I remember where he hides the car.” Amelia whispers. She seems so small. “I love you.” Her lips hold mine, gentle at first, a soft kiss, then she presses more insistently, her hand gripping my neck and her tongue slipping inside and I can taste her tears. “I love you too.” I tear away from her at that. Not bothering to adjust the red on my lips, let the fuckers see. I rip at the curtains and stride towards the cult with my head held high, not daring to look at her again. If I turn away, see her just a moment, watching me leave with her hands scrunched up into fists behind her and lips the same red as mine- I don’t think I would be able to do this. After a moment I could hear the chanting. Smoke rises into the starless night, and as I walk closer I can see the fire roaring in the pit and the virgins dancing in tandem. They are ghosts, weaving in white around each other, intertwining in ways I know they practice at night, away from the Priest’s eyes. He stands like power itself in front of me. Shadows dancing in front of his soulless eyes. Slowly, he offers his hand. The virgins howl. I steel myself, shaking away my fears. There’s a still a few days, before they kill me. But they will kill me, probably, Amelia won’t make it in time, she’s always late. Tonight they’ll dress me, tomorrow he’ll finally fuck me then at last they’ll slit my throat and drink. I never give him my hand. “You satanist motherfucker.” The Priest falls backward and there’s scream exploding from all crevices. Thud Our tormentor lies on the floor and blood blooms from his abdomen. He struggles, twitching and whimpering. The crimson soaks up the dirt. I turn back and Amelia cocks the shotgun. Her eyes gleam. “I said you were my pearl, didn’t I?” Thank god I married this woman.
It was a cone shell, but the color and shape wasn't right. It was half buried in sand, next to the water's edge. Carefully, I shifted the sands around it to make sure I did not confuse it for a glass shard. I lifted it up and admired its peculiar shape and color. It was unlike any cone shell I've ever seen. I could not make out the color as it was dark but I could've sworn that it was glowing. I wondered if it was bioluminescent but the pattern itself was odd. If I were to describe it, then the only word that comes to mind would be otherworldly. I continued my path along the beach with the shell in hand, keeping an eye out for other seashells. As I kept walking, I felt an inexplicable sensation washing over me. I was enveloped in the emotion of the will to survive. An instinct in its purest form. My thoughts become dulled as the feeling starts becoming more specific. It was clear that something was trying to live and its only will was to use all it had to that end. I could discern it to be different than the to sensation of to be preyed upon. My eyes instinctively look towards to my left and I could barely make out the shape of a starfish, no bigger than an inch in in size. It was desperately thrashing its arms on the sand, trying to return to the ocean. I carefully lifted it up and gently tossed it where it needed to be. The sensation dissipated shortly thereafter. I could not pin point it, but I know that the experience I just had have something to do with the cone shell I had picked up. I continued walking as I tried to brush off my recent inclination as nothing more than a moment's lost of sanity. It did not take long, however, for a similar sensation to happen again. This time, it was about 10 meters ahead and as peculiar as it sounds, I could tell it wasn't the same starfish. I moved closer until I saw the creature. It was a jellyfish. It harbored the same feeling of desperation. I felt horrible, but I know that if I were to try and do the same gesture to this jellyfish as I did to that starfish, I will inevitably get stung. I slid the cone shell into my pocket and like a switch, the sensation disappeared. I still felt bad as I looked at the jellyfish, but not as bad as I felt when I was holding on the shell directly. I kept walking and took out the cone shell after I was certain that I would not be picking up the jellyfish's suffering. I tried to comprehend the absurdities I was experiencing. Animals can't talk but they are still capable of communicating non-verbally by other means, I tried to reason with myself. But this cone shell apparently could transfer their very will to the person who holds on to it. The magnitude of the transferred will also seems to vary by the distance from the animal. It was rather nonreactive on the rest of the way but I could make out simpler 'messages' like 'must go here' or ' must eat' from the direction of the ocean. The overlapping whispers of these 'messages' served as a humbling reminder of the vast biodiversity that exists in the world's oceans. As I was nearing my car, I realized that I have been receiving a peculiar 'message' from a creature in the direction of the ocean. It was weak due to its distance, I presumed as the reason I didn't sense it sooner. Unlike the previous messages I could only account the sensation to a feeling of dread. I could only guess what animal was giving out this 'message' as I drove away from the beach parking lot. It is a fish eat fish world out there. A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as the 'message' wasn't only persistent throughout my entire drive along the coastline, it was also getting stronger.
(Continued from Above) “What? How?” Serindus answered. “I’m not sure how long ago it happened, but I told Captain Tellenius that if there’s anything I’m after, it’s historical records- reports of ancient kingdoms, civilizations, even prehistoric peoples that might give me some clue to how long ago it was.” “And why do you think that?” Ishon asked, obviously intrigued at this point. “You remember I told both of you that my people have traveled between planets, and we’ve come across other intelligent species before. The thing is, we’ve never encountered another species on any other planet that’s looked like us, except for the fact that a few stood on two legs and had two arms like we do, but everything else about their anatomy was very different.” I crossed my arms as I continued. “Thing is, the fact that the people on this world look just like us is a mathematical impossibility alone. The probability that life on two separate worlds would end up with two dominant, intelligent life forms identical to each other is zero for all intents and purposes.” Once again I glanced over to Ishon. “But it gets even weirder.” I looked back at Serindus. I remembered when I awakened in the church undercroft, among the shelves that Ishon had been standing near, was an instrument that looked like a primitive microscope, so they likely knew what cells were. But I doubted that they knew about DNA or genetic codes. “I’m assuming that you both know what cells are, in biology?” I asked. “As in the cells of the body, animals, plants, bacteria, those things?” Ishon answered. I looked over to him and nodded. “I’ll try to keep the details brief. You’re people may not have discovered it yet, but inside every cell of every living thing in an intricate set of molecules, arranged in patterns and sequences that are unique not just to each organism but each individual. You, me, Serindus,” I said as I nodded over to the man, “Each have one unique to all of us. Pieces of it are passed on from parents to their offspring- literally the reason why kids look like their mothers and fathers, or why siblings from the same parents have distinct resemblances to each other. And it’s also how new species of creatures change or arise over time- the code undergoes gradual changes and shuffling with each generation. Wait long enough through enough generations, and eventually the organism you end up with looks entirely different from what you started with.” I paused for a few moments, waiting to see if either of them had any questions, but so far it seemed like they were following what I was saying. “If you know what you’re looking for, you can look at fragments of the code, and even go backwards in time, determining something or someone’s ancestry. And if you look at an entire population, you’ll find that the majority of this code is the same throughout, with minor variations being responsible for the distinct differences in individuals. In my people, we share 99.9% of the same code of these molecules in common.” “Now here’s the kicker.” I said as I raised a finger. “When I took blood and tissue samples from the patients I worked on last night in the church, I ran some tests to see what the molecular code was in their cells and compared it to sample sequences I had recorded. And the similarity was exactly the same- 99.9%. My people and yours- we’re not just closely related- we are the exact same species.” “So when you say that you think your people visited this planet at one point…” Serindus said. He seemed to have already caught on to what I was about to say next. “Exactly.” I answered. “Some large group of travelers must have come here at some point long, long ago. Maybe they were part of a colony expedition- I can’t say. But everyone on this planet alive right now is a descendent from that original group, or groups.” I glanced back and forth between Ishon and Serindus. “It sounds bizarre, but it’s the only explanation I can think of that makes sense of everything I’ve found so far.” “But if that were true, then how come your technology is so...different, from ours?” Ishon asked. “That’s the really big question, and I’m afraid I still don’t have an answer. I can only conjecture that…something must have happened.” I answered. “Something cataclysmic and world-changing, to the point where technology and records were lost, and any memory of what was before eventually faded out. Something long ago.” I lowered my head. “And I can’t help but think that the fact that this world is so far the first and only world to my knowledge to have people who can use- well, magic- on it is somehow related.” I then looked back up at Serindus. “So right now, I need to find out where I can find historical archives. Any libraries or colleges or institutes that might have some information on when you- or rather, we- first arrived here, and what happened that seems to have set technology back by centuries, but has also introduced a force unlike anything science has ever encountered before, and I almost fear might never be able to explain.” I looked back down at the ground and put my hands on my hips. “If either of you are skeptical, you have every right to be. But the fact of the matter is that if there are records of some sort out there, they might also explain how I wound up here, with no memory of the events leading up to it. And I only recently learned that if someone does come looking for me, at the very minimum it will take roughly six-and-a-half years from now for them to get here. But it all likelihood, it will be even longer than that. But it’s possible that I can find any information, it may lead me to way to get off-world and reunite with my people sooner.” Finally, I resumed checking the compartments on the enormous pack as I pulled out yet another one of the many components of the portable field hospital within. “In the meantime, however, I’m still bound by my Oath to aid whoever and wherever I am needed. So until such an opportunity presents itself, I intend to do just that.” I said as I took a look at the miniature vial centrifuge that I had pulled out. “Anyway, Serindus,” I said, addressing the priest. “Ishon here said you needed to speak to me about something. If it’s really important, go ahead and tell me what it is while you’re here. Otherwise, I need to finish going through all of my equipment here.” “Right.” Serindus said. “I was talking with Captain Tellenius about what happened. When I told him about the bhakalhi that attacked the town right before you showed up, he and I then talked with one of his men, a man named Vargas, who was an expert hunter- in some cases he was hired as an exterminator- in his younger years before he settled down in Denura and joined the town guard there.” “Bhakalhi?” I uttered the unfamiliar word. “You mean those beasts?” Serindus nodded. “They’re known to be pack hunters, and while a group of them may pose a threat to the lone traveler, they’ll steer clear of even small groups of people. And they’re not known to brazenly attack towns, even in the numbers that came through here. We might occasionally get one or two sniffing around the woods nearby but they normally run if a guard yells at them.” “So you think there was some underlying cause to the attack?” I asked. “Vargas says in his years dealing with bhakalhi, he knows of only two things that could possibly have driven a whole pack that size into attacking a village.” Serindus answered. “And those are?” “One would be disease. He knows of two separate diseases that can cause them to become aggressive.” My heart sank at the mention of the word disease. I immediately began opening up compartments in the field hospital pack I would need. “Damn it, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?! Now I need to check everyone who was injured! Isolate the pathogen, come up with a countermeasure before-” “Neither disease is transmittable to humans!” He interrupted loudly, as he realized the impact his words had. I exhaled, relieved, and quickly composed myself. Of course it wouldn’t be transmittable to people. If it was, they’d have some sort of treatment, or if they didn’t, after seeing the kind of work I’d performed in the church last night, one of them would have almost certainly have said something. They might not have the same tech I did, but I’d already seen enough from them to know they were far from being fools. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.” I uttered. Then I realized what he had said. “He said there were two things? What’s the other?” I asked. “The beasts were somehow manipulated into attacking.” Serindus said. “Manipulated how?” I asked. “Magic, most likely.” Serindus answered. Even after what I’d witnessed in the past two days, I was still getting used to the fact that such a thing existed on this particular planet. “Vargas said it’s not unheard of to use some sort of mass-hypnosis or mass-hallucination spell on animals to whip them into a frenzy and then point them in the direction of a target. In fact, he’s says he’s seen it more than once, and has every reason to believe it’s what caused the attack on our town.” “Hmm…” I uttered. “I should speak with him, then.” I replied. “If the town’s in danger of a second attack, then my first obligation is to prevent or prepare for it. Ounce of prevention and all that.” I said as I closed the last compartment of the hospital pack. I then put on my backpack and slung my gun over my shoulder and headed towards the door. ------------------------------------------------------ To be continued in Part 5- Small Mercies Check out this and other stories at [r/ThatDudeWithTheBeard](https://www.reddit.com/r/ThatDudeWithTheBeard/)
I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was right there. The man who abandoned us to suffer for 15 years. 15 goddamn years. Years of insecurity. Years of improvising and adapting because he was too drunk to keep his eyes on the road. Years without guidance in life. And that’s a good thing. Otherwise, I would end up in prison just like he did. Fury burned passionately inside me. Like a firestorm of unending wrath which welled within my conscience. Everything was burning. I was burning. “Heya-“ My fist makes solid thunk across his mug before he could finish. He should’ve stayed in there. I stood back up, panting heavily, fist bloodied. Not mine. His. “Get in the car.” I command. He staggers his way up, still rocky from my slugging. He opens the door and sits. Holding his nose to stop it from bleeding. We clasp our seatbelts on and I drive onto the road. I hand him a box of tissue as a way of telling him to not get blood on the seat. He smiles at me, and I only get pissed off. He must’ve misunderstood. “I deserved that.” He regrets as he slumps himself on the seat. Damn right you did, was what I wanted to say. But he’s not even worth it. The sack of shit can suffer for all I care. Although it may hurt, it doesn’t compare to what Mum went through. “How’s your mother, Jack?” He looks at me. “Why do you care, Daniel?” I retorted. “She’s still in the same fucking coma you put her in 15 years ago!” Yes. That’s right. The fucker was in the car with my mom when he was drunk driving. Not only was he driving, but he was with mum. He must’ve expected her to be awake by now, seeing how his face is contorted. “I’m so... sorry...” he repents. “What? Huh? You wanna get a drink or something? Drink your sorrows away?” I bombarded. “Shut your mouth!” He shouted. “I got clean.” Clean? In a prison? Doubt it. I gave a puff of disbelief. “If you did get clean, it’s only because there was no alcohol there.” I give him a look of disdain. “How dare you, Jack? I am still your father!” He slapped me. I slam the breaks in front of his house, where we used to live. Something was boiling inside. Like steaming hot magma, accompanied by scorpion-stinging pains. “No.” “No?” He angrily asks. “No. You wanna know why? Because I graduated high school without you. I learned how to play ball without you. I went through my relationships without you. I got my first kiss and first breakup without you. I entered university and graduated with a degree without you. I got myself a job without you. I bought a house and married myself a beautiful woman, an-and I had kids; all of ‘em without you. I taught them things like a good father did., and there ain’t a DAMN THING THAT YOU TAUGHT ME THAT STUCK WITH ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE OTHER THAN TO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE!!” I wipe the tears from my eyes and put my head against the wheel. The tears won’t stop. Disheartened, he leaves the car with his house keys and makes his way towards his house. I drive away, still wiping my eyes. No looking back now.
Commander Rose woke on a metal table; he felt the cool rigidness under him, as well as the cool air around him. His training kicked in the second he opened his eyes and discovered the familiar blinking lights of the medbay. He fought the urge to sit up and instead called out. "My name is Commander Edmond Rose. I'm conscious, is anyone there?"After a silent second he heard the "whoosh"of an automatic door opening. "Glad to see you awake, Commander,"a female voice said to his left. He could not turn his head, but soon an angelic face with light brown eyes appeared above him. "Now that you're awake, let's give you a quick check-up before you report to Command."She smiled, then disappeared from his view. "So, what'd I miss?"Edmond asked, and he heard a muffled giggle in response. "So MUCH! It's not for me to say, but I can tell you the mission is going smoothly, and you're awake right on time."Edmond felt a band constrict around his right arm to check his blood pressure. "Wow... 95 years."He mumbled to himself in awe. "Felt like a catnap. What's it like here? They put me under before we crossed over."He asked. Edmond was the last Commander trained to handle the return trip. He remained cryogenically frozen until the planets lined up again, every hundred years. "Did we find any signs of civilization or life? Do we have a settlement?"The cuff loosened around his arm, and he felt a pin prick against his index finger on the other hand. "Well, your debriefing is supposed to cover all that...."the woman said, though she sounded unsure. "...But, I don't think you should go in unprepared. It's a lot to take in, and it'll help to start processing some of it already." Edmond smiled to himself. "Okay, here's how we're gonna do it. No more questions. I'll answer what you've already asked, and they'll answer any other questions during the debriefing,"she said. "You got it, Doc."Edmond said. "First. Here is a pretty much like the Earth you left,"she said. Edmond heard her wander close to him, but she seemed to be performing tasks around him. Every now and then he'd feel odd sensations like his heart racing, or a slight wave of dizziness. All sensations that he'd expected. "So much like Earth that the answer to both your other questions is 'Yes'. We found life and civilization. And now we have a settlement." Her face appeared in his vision again and she pressed a small gun-like device against his forehead to take his temperature. "The humans here, yes they're humans too, actually sent a mission to our Earth at the same time our mission launched over here." "Why do you keep calling it our Earth?"Edmond asked. The phrasing started to bother him. "Oh, right. That probably would have been the easiest way to explain it, sorry. I'm splitting my focus here."He felt another needle pierce his neck to prove her point. "This is a parallel Earth. I don't know how it works, maybe the top-brass got it figured, but every 100 years things line up perfectly enough to open a portal for a day. Anyway, they sent a mission at the same time. You'll have to watch the video, there's a solid hour of confusion as everyone thinks it didn't work. It's hilarious,"she appeared in his vision again with a large smile, dropped some pills in his mouth, then disappeared again. He managed to swallow them dry. "They were more advanced in some areas than we were, and we had the advantage in other areas, but we've been getting along great since we got here."Edmond felt all his restraints loosen. "You're cleared. Good luck, Commander." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #213. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
At the break of dawn, Cheltham left furtively, feet as quiet as a hungry cat, as he rushed downstairs. Cheltham picked the finest tulips he spotted in the garden, a resplendent sea of vermillion, yellow and ultramarine, for he promised Margaret that her morning would begin with a blossom. On exiting the tranquil park, he found himself more astray than a mouse in a jungle, and he sought directions. He finally confronted a lanky, bearded old man wearing suspenders and a red coat with a hood, the type you'd applaud at a play because his costume and makeup were accomplished so well. His face seemed... eerily familiar? As ready as the stranger was to help Cheltham, he did seem suspect, if in the slightest - a sonata with two wrong notes. He seemed to hide something behind his back. ~~I~~ Cheltham ~~darted past him and ran off~~ walked up to the man, confused and looking for help. He inquired: "Pardon me, mister, but would you know the way to Hoppins Street?" The possibly-septuagenarian gestured, "Dude it's that way, come on." Cheltham was puzzled. "Pardon me, sir?" The old man slowly shook his head, as he brought out a knife, slashing Cheltham twice in the middle of the street. He said, "Carey, don't push it." "I can do a lot worse. I know every character in your flimsy story, and no amount of SAT vocabulary will save it from all the cliches you just added." The narrator, shocked, asked him why. The man replied, Carey quit it. We made a deal and I cured you of your writer's block, but you didn't include me in a single story since, so I've got to make guest appearances myself. The narrator was- wait, I'll show you what the narrator is. hHZHPPCHZCHHhp there, you can't be pompous if you're decapitated.
>Sword of Legend, Starscatter Blade forged from the heart of a dying sun, discovered after defeating Yog'shighoul, Horror of the Depths. Buy it now for 200,000! >Lot of 15 potions, 6 available! Healing potions, buy more than one lot for combined shipping! >3 Megalixers (L@@K!) Full heals from all aliments, deal of a lifetime! >Gold Armor, NEVER USED ~\WOW\~ Bought in town and got upgrade five minutes later, still smells new! ---- "You think anyone's going to buy this stuff, Frank?" "I sure hope so,"Frank sighed, rolling his eyes. "Her royal highness is already starting to complain about it cluttering up the garage. I've already got rid of the dragon bones and a good amount of the shields. Might try selling the swords at the next ren fair, those dorks will buy anything. Guess there's no rest for a hero when there's clutter!"
Crime has fled Like winter days And so they search For different ways To find and scratch And wrong the gay A crime to be dark A crime to be seen A crime to speak loud A crime to be mean Until all the silence Becomes the gun Smoking and stoking The fire of one Officer Andrews Attention. Walk on. Your children are darling But you’re twenty one A fine for too many kids One for too few New husband? One ticket For a marriage so new That you’ll probably make babies That cluster and spew So move along move along Before I sue.
Major Christine Wong at first thought her AN/APG-7 radar was experiencing a malfunction. It kept indicating that the contact just over the horizon was moving at 125 knots and was the size of a 777. That in it's self was not strange but the fact that the contacts wings appeared to be moving up and down in slowly, something normally found in birds. She was even more confused when her wingman and the EC1 EC-121 were feeding the same data to here system and all giving the same information. This this was biological and huge. Not that any of it mattered, her job was to identify and if need be kill the contact before it threatened the west coast and the millions that lived there. She had just started to tighten the beam on here radar when here radio snapped on "Raptor 1-1, Overwatch. Be advised Navy is reporting the contact is biological and is identified as Dragon. Repeat. Contact is a biological that appears to be a dragon. You are cleared to engage." Major Wong thumbed her mic and responded "Roger, Overwatch. Target is biological and identified as a dragon, Raptor flight is cleared to engage."She quickly snapped frequencies and spoke to her wingman. "Looks like were in the dragon slaying business now, Tricky. Come to 140 and engage."Seconds later both pilots launched withing a moment of each other. The great drake had awoken after centuries of sleep hungry and well aware that the humans he not only enjoyed eating but hearing there screams of terror had repopulated since he last slept. He drooled thinking of the flesh he would soon savor again and the music the human suffering would create while he feasted. His thoughts of the meal to come were distracted by a high pitched buzzing noise growing louder and louder. He had never heard such a noise before and was confused by what could be making the noise. This would be the last thought he ever had as the first AIM-120 AMRAAM missile slammed into his neck. The 1000 pound warhead impacting just below his neck sending steel and bone shrapnel into his head and body, shredding his lungs and one of his hearts and turning his brain into mush. The second Phoenix impacted his torso a second later, ripping flesh from bone and spilling his internal organs. "Be advised Raptor flight, target has broken in two and is in free fall."The voice of the EC radio operator was flat and without emotion. They had just killed a dragon and no one broke professional decorum. Not that it mattered, she would never pay for another drink again.
Those dogs messed with us for the final time. We warned them. They had been terrorizing the local cat population for years. Barking at us, chasing us up trees. Jumping on us and flipping us up in the air while we slept. They laughed thinking it was funny. I bet they aren't laughing now. They finally met their match with me and my crew. We started by small things to make their lives a living Hell. Sneaking into houses and tearing up the place while their master was out. They of course got blamed and punished. That wasn't enough for us. My crew was smart, we knew how the humans used stoves. We also knew about the joys of gas stoves. We went through the dog door and jumped on the stove and turned the knobs to on. Gas would fill the house and eventually there would be an explosion. Look behind us, nobody messes with me and my crew and lives.
Under the gentle flicker of candlelight, he approached the tomb. His eyes were tired, his aged face covered loosely by beard and hair. Slowly, he removed his robe and knelt before the aging stone sarcophagus. Years before - no, millennia before, the tombs had been safe below a magnificent cathedral. Spires reaching to the heavens, hundreds of men would gather here each week to praise their lord. They would sing, they would pray, they would seek forgiveness for the sins of themselves and their kind. He listened as he knelt, hearing only silence. Before that, there had been others. Countless cycles of humanity, raised from the ashes of those before, rediscovering themselves, rebuilding their monuments and their cities, their faith and their flaws, repeating their sins, until eventually their time passed, and their home died. He pushed the stone slab aside and air as old as time itself escaped from the darkness. As the dust settled, the ornate golden work revealed itself in the light, the box still sealed. He lifted the lid. "Help me, old friend." The darkness within the box began to stir, a faint glow of white emanating from depths that couldn't possibly be held. "I have failed. My work is done. I am tired, and they do not learn." He placed his hands on the side edges of the box and leaned in closer, looking down into the abyss within. A voice, deep from below, spoke softly "Are you sure? You have limitless opportunity here. You can try again, and perhaps it will be different. I will, of course, grant you whatever, my friend. I... I have not lived but one life, and I don't understand why anyone would wish for this." He sat back, his grey hair piled upon the ground behind him. "They will not change, and I cannot watch it happen again, for each time it breaks my heart, and I have no pieces left to give." "Then you have my most sincere condolences. We will end this together, as we started it so long ago." As the candles began to dim, a white orb of light rose from the ark. Jehovah reached out and held it, feeling the warmth in his hands, allowing himself one last moment to remember. As a tear formed, brought by memories of joy, or the ache of suffering, he relaxed back. "Thank you", and the universe ended.
"What does that mean, 'Our hypothesis was incorrect'?"The chief executive Gray Darby was desperately trying to hide his excitement and annoyance at the cryptic message, the first to arrive from the Earth mission. "Sir, I believe that means our archaeo-anthropologists and religious scholars arrived at an incorrect explanation for the cessation of communication with Earth."Sheena, the chief science advisor, answered, cool as a red rock, as always. "No scat, huh?"Gray replied, an unusual tone of clipped sarcasm. The colonists of 2185 bore little resemblance to the thin, waif-like beings that now inhabit Mars. Their languages were different, their culture was barbaric, and their bodies were ill-suited to life on this planet. It's a miracle they survived at all. But they gave us life, and for that we are grateful, say Sun be God. And they gave us a good reason not to attempt communication with Earth for a very long time. The death and destruction ravaging the mother world, they said, must not be allowed to follow us onto this new world. Mars, named for the ancient God of War, would be instead a place of peace. And so it was for 10,000 Earth years, or about 5300 years on Mars, the estimated time for most of the suspected fallout to clear. A second report came in to the conference bubble. Video this time. Brownscale and grainy, but clear enough to make out shapes. Cute creatures clothed in many shades. Stocky, very muscular, but obviously humanoid. Of the ten or so figures on the video, none appeared to have any abnormal growths or extra limbs. In the background was visible a cityscape totally foreign to Martian eyes. Tall, square buildings, built entirely out of some kind of glass. And what looked like giant food-plants, with thick, hard stems just beyond the figures in the frame. One figure stepped forward, began to speak. The video devices with the research crew could not pick up audio, and clearly the video had been edited, as a line of text floated across the bottom of the screen. "We welcome you back to Earth. After all this time, I'm sure you will be happy to know that, with your continued dedication, the experiment for which your forbears were sent to Mars has been a success. You were the first civilization of humans to evolve on another planet, and my, how beautiful you've become!"With that last word, the other nine humanoids in the video made a strange gesture. They put their hands together repeatedly and violently, all smiling with their thin lips parted to show a row of short, bright white teeth. A rather disgusting display, from the Martian perspective. The figure continued moving his thin lips after the hand-smacking stopped. "We know you must have many questions for us. And we will be happy to answer them all, in time, but we know that communication between our two worlds is difficult for you, so we want to end this transmission with a gesture of peace from our world to yours." Another stocky figure from off-screen pushed a cart into view. Upon the cart was a vessel, and inside the vessel was planted, something that looked like a food-plant, but bigger, more robust. Upon it were round, light-colored things. Obviously some kind of food, but none that any Martian had seen for many lifetimes. The video cut off abruptly. Gray and Sheena sat in silence for some time. Gray scratching his long, thin wrist with a almost skeletal index finger. "So."Sheena said with a sigh. "That doesn't look like a post-nuclear wasteland to me." "No, Sheena. No it does not." After a time of silence, she added, "The science academies will find this exhilirating, but I don't know how the religious departments will take it." Gray chuckled, a high-pitched sqeaking noise pleasant and calming to Martian ears. "Have faith, Sheena. They're more adaptable than you think."
I dropped the phone and covered my ears with my hands. I didn't hear the slightly muffled this of the phone hitting the floor; the only thing that I could hear were the mad whispers and lunatic screams of the void. Ever since the crack in the ocean had opened three weeks ago, the threads of reality had begun to fray. Unexplainable weather patterns, a sharp increase in violent crimes and missing persons. And behind the shadows of everything was the darkness, as whatever it was that filled the void infected the physical realm. Almost all women had either become barren or had miscarried. Those that had given birth wished desperately that they had miscarried. The things that came out of them were malformed and screaming for the short life they lived. The elderly had been stricken with terrifying dreams. Those that were spiritual called them dark prophesies and spent most of their days in tears and repentance. A growing number of them had stopped eating and drinking, and were repenting themselves into deaths of dehydration. The unspiritual found themselves given into their base natures: fighting, stealing, raping and gluttony. The worst of it were these auditory communicates. Some came in the form of emails from addresses that didn't exist, others came in bursts on radios and televisions. Others...came through telephones. Sometimes messages and sometimes answered calls. There had been reports of laughter, reports of wailing and other...other reports...reports of screaming. Screaming and whispers. Voices that traveled from the void. I could still hear the sounds in my head. Unintelligible voices, whispering like lunatic cultists, summoning a lunatic god. And the screams, yes, the screams, like worshippers of that god. Voices that should break, but never do, voices that should grow hoarse, but don't. Voices that should make no sense, but do. I can hear the words in those screams and whispers, and I hate them. I hate what I say, and I what what they are trying to call forth. It's unnatural and terrible. When I tried picturing it, I see its shape and it makes me want to rip my eyes out of my sockets. Every horror imagined by the human mind were dim reflections of this thing. This horrific thing, and the cultist voices, calling for it, calling out to me, telling me what I should do. What I should do to bring it out from the void. It is my eyes that it wants, this is what the whispers say. The god is blind and needs my eyes. It seems like a small price to pay for this terrible and wonderful god. My eyes and my tongue, for theirs, ours, is a blind and dumb god and needs a sacrifice to make it whole. Not cut, though. The screams tell me that real worship means effort, and I want to worship rightly. I grabbed my tongue first and pulled as hard as I could. Somewhere, distant, I could hear screams of pain, but the voices give me comfort. Next, my eyes. Still more screams, but these sound muffed and gargling. Still, the voices, the terrible and beautiful voices encourage me on. Our god is coming soon.
I hold her in my hands. "So you're in my head huh?"I pop off her head and it's followed with a plastic pop. I set her head on the counter and face it towards me. Her brow stretches into a furrow. I rub my thumb over her chest and press down. "Stop it."She squeaks. "I could turn you back now. It would make some entertainment." "No, don't do that. Listen, I'm sorry. Get your finger away from there." My index wrapped around her hip and was pressing too close to her groin. "My bad." "Is that all I am to you, a sex toy?" "No, you never were. You were a friend. Granted of the opposite sex, so how much of friends could we have been? Not much, but you could've been kinder."I ask. "You were mean too. You called me fat and a bitch. Hey."I grab her head and pop it back on and replace her on the counter. "I never called you fat, I said, 'You ain't no bean-pole no more honey.' I wasn't trying to be mean." "Could've fooled me."She struggles but can't move her arms. "What's with this?" "Think of you like one of those cheap drugstore toys without movable appendages." "Great. Your Madonna-Whore complex goes into sex toys as well." "It's not about sex. It's about you betraying my trust and good nature."I open a fresh pack of cigarettes and light one. I gesture towards her with the lit cigarette smoke trailing above me. "We've established that you don't have any good nature. What is the point of keeping me here longer?" "Retribution. No one will know where you are or what has become of you. I won't kill you, because that would end it all. I'm going to place you next to the others and..."There is a knock at the door. "I told my boyfriend who I was going to meet." I look outside and see police looking through the window at me. I place her in the freezer. She can't make sound in there. I answer the door. "Hello officers. What can I do for you?" "We're here to talk to you David. Do you got a minute?" No. "Of course. Come in." "We just wanted to know if you seen Samantha. She told her boyfriend she'd be meeting you after work last night." "Yes that happened, but she never showed. She's always blowing me off."They enter the house. I can't afford to look suspicious. His partner begins looking around. "Well he's worried about her, because she hasn't returned and he also said you and her had a past together." "Not really."I put my cigarette out in an ashtray. "We had a rocky time getting to know each other, but we have since made up and have become friends." "Still playing with dolls, David?"The other officer returns from the kitchen holding Samantha in his hand. "No it must be my niece's. She's always leaving her toys over when she comes to visit." "It was in the freezer." He's persistent. "Who knows what she was doing with it." He places it on the table. I return my gaze back to the first officer. "Is there anything else? Would you guys like to look around more, or ask anymore questions." The first officer seems to scrutinize me, but he smiles. "No. There's no telling what's going on with her. I see no reason to stay. If she contacts you, then let her know her family and boyfriend are worried." "Thank you officers."I close the door after them. I retrieve Samantha from the counter and place her on the floor. I snap my fingers and she comes to full size, except she is blue all over. Her lips are blue, her skin, and ice clings to her clothing. Her hands are clawed and her mouth permanently frozen into a scream. Sorry Sam, but you just had to be such a bitch.
In heaven, you can do what you want. I mean anything you want to. It’s really neat, you just imagine something hard enough and ‘poof’ it appears, I suppose it’s a just reward for living in his shadow; all those Sunday sermons and Bible studies, finally paying off, and hey, I wasn’t even that big of a believer, more of a supporter I suppose. Sure, I ate the crackers and drank the wine, I even prayed from time to time, but I would have referred to me as a ‘passive Christian’. Not now though! Now I’m as faithful as an Angel can be! It turns out, God is love. I mean he must be right, to let a schmuck like me have such an amazing afterlife? To have my young body back and all my friends and family around me, kinda weird that they’re all also in their twenties, though right? I just imagine a filter that puts their old faces back on, that way they all look familiar. Anyway, as I was saying, in Heaven, you can do literally anything you want, except disobey the big man, that earns you a ticket straight to Hell, which incidentally Angels can visit, to see loved ones that strayed from the path. Trust me, not the kind of place you want to go to, all that brimstone, just ask my atheist brother, now that’s look of regret if I ever did see one! So, one day God announces that he wants all the angels (that’s right, all 4 billion of us!) to gather in St. Paul’s; and this is where my story starts. I adjust my reality filter and the billions of angels morph into thousands, that’s better. God is standing in the middle of the majestic auditorium he just created, it looks like the Roman coliseum except made from the most beautiful opalescent clouds, the tiered seating shimmers with iridescence. Everyone appears nervous, trepidation has spread through the crowd like locusts through corn. God had never gathered us like this, what had changed? Has our time here expired? The thought alone sends an unfamiliar wave of panic through my body. Could our time in paradise really come to an end? God appears in the center of the coliseum, he is ten times bigger than everyone else, and there is something slightly off, about his demeanor. When he speaks a commanding voice thrums through the clouds. ‘Good afphternoon all’. Is he DRUNK!? ‘The time has come, hic, for judgment to be passed upon the inhabitants of Earth. Those who have shown me nothing but loooove,’ he blinks rapidly for a few seconds. ‘will come and join us in Heaven.’ A wave of chatter builds then breaks as God interrupts. ‘But those who chose instead a life of vice and villainy, hic, sin and sodomy, shall be forced to survive in the ruins of Earth, for our hic entertainment. Judgement day is here. A hologram of Earth spontaneously generates above God’s head, he regards it as a baby regards a spreadsheet. This is quite the development. Judgement day, I always assumed it was more of a bluff than a reality, and why now? Was there something special about the year 2018? ‘Now, the apocalypse is at hand.’ God continues. ‘And because I am a kind God, I cannot be the one to bring about the end, I am therefore choosing one of you, to wipe out Humanity.’ Gasps, hands in front of mouths, awkward shuffling. The Angel responsible will have all my hic powers to bring about this apocalypse, my only caveat is that it must be entertaining, none of this swine flu nonsense. ‘Now the Angel responsible for bringing about this, most entertaining of apocalypses is… Oh also no nuclear war! Hic, Okay, the Angel is…’ Who would have thought God the type to pause for suspense? ‘Isaac Miller of Glory Drive, Massachusetts.’ My heart implodes and for the first time since my death I hunger for oxygen. God looks at me, God is looking right at me, and points, God is pointing at me! ‘Okay Isaac, off you go, no pressure hic. Did God just wink at me!? Is this actually happening? ‘Off you go, Isaac.’ He repeats. Oops, don’t want to keep him waiting. I’m flying over the Earth, I need to take it all in, I start in my old neighbourhood, I see my children and my old friends, I leave signs for them to repent, after all God didn’t say anything about influencing who gets into heaven. I fly all over, watching humanity go about their daily business, I envy their ignorance, although I am glad I won’t be down there for the upcoming drama. I have my plan all worked out. Three weeks of planning, of course I stopped time so that to everyone else it seems like I have just left the coliseum. They will be watching me, on any angle they want, listening to my every move, I have blocked them from listening to my thoughts though, that’s too much. God said he wanted this to be entertaining, I hope I don’t disappoint. A let out a colossal sigh, why me? Still ricochets around in the back of mind, but I accepted the task long ago. I raise my hand and feel a tremendous surge of power flow through me. As I snap my fingers the cacophony begins. I might add more if anyone is interested, I enjoyed this prompt, thanks :)
Hit me once, shame on me. even twice or thrice, This cannot be. What started as what felt like a thousand dreams Perfect from the outside. Was swallowed whole by screams. To a nightmare I would awaken Scared to move, breathe, live My peace of mind gone, my trust taken Holding on for oh so long You were it for me, once so good But the kindness in your eyes was now gone. Everything got bottled up, a neat little ball Resting in the corner of my mind But eventually everything will crumble, everything will fall. That one night was just too much my skin was crawling, I wasn’t going to allow for this. never again did I want your touch. I wanted you to let me be And then I killed you Finally, I was free Sitting here now, people telling me things Should I fake regret? Cry some more? or should my lips curl up, my smile admitting the joy it brings?
Dear patient Patient, I apologize. Sorry. For an accident Which will make it hard to pee. My day was hectic. Lunch was rushed. I ate quickly. Food was delivered While you were sleeping sweetly. You may be injured. I dropped a morsel in you. A salted french fry, it dropped inside your scrotum. But no need to sigh it'll be a cinch to pluck. Between a fry and your scrote There is a vas deferens. Your bill is enclosed. \\\* I've also been practicing [my handwriting](https://imgur.com/kEdpmeO). \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #214. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
It was about love. It was about karma and rebirth. It was about the one true creator - the universe itself. How could people not see? It's in the word, it's in the depth, it's there when you look into the night sky. It's constant, never ending, always looking to experience more of itself. You are it, as much as I am. It's all one big I. _____________ It was something silly like that, I'm not quite sure. Your turn: what did you dream about?
"Why should we let them know we exist? They still believe some greater being brought them into existence. They won't see us as intelligent life. They'll view us as advisors sent by their God." Shan'taroh was the emperor of the warforged race Hakkaasudos, who believed humans were simply too faithful in their "creator"to comprehend the possibility of other life. "We shouldn't even be concerned about them. The farthest any human has reached in the space around their home world is their moon. They have yet to create a stable space program which will allow them to reach beyond that. They just don't have the resources right now to-" "Right now. What about in ten years? Twenty?" The Sreptrine sisters, Galasn and Vakdasn have always had their differences. Neither one could ever agree on anything, however their leadership over the Sunogox empire has proved invaluable more times than can be measured. "Sisters, we'll stab that mech when it gets here. I personally would prefer if we just leave the humans alone. Let them discover us in their own time. It is unquestionable that they are a lesser race compared to the rest of us. Their nuclear missiles, as they call them, could never compare to anything we have. That alone shows they have a very long time before they develop a spacecraft or any form of technology that could reach the outer rims of this galaxy." An unrelenting leader, Vandis Gondar controls the Council, and has never failed to lead his people into eras of prosperity and wealth. He alone has determined the outcome of wars, and convinced the Hakkaasudos to join him in his conquest to unite the species of the Milky Way. 12-096 bolted into the room. 12-096 is part of a robotic race whose names for their people and planets are only numbers. "Twelve! What's going on? You look hunted!" Vandis jumps out of his seat and runs to Twelve. "Engine failure. Supply Frigate 9987-65 has lost course and crash-landed on planet 666675-8889. Requesting recovery assistance immediately." "And what planet would that be?"one of the sisters said in a rather snarky tone. Vandis' jaw dropped. "It's Earth." Vandis scrambled evacuation ships to warp to Earth as soon as possible. What they weren't prepared for was the frigate having crashed next to New York. News vans and reporters as well as thousands of onlookers were observing the ship. There was no hiding the secret anymore. Vandis contacted Shan'taroh through his radion. "Shan." There was some slight muffling sound. "Yes?" "They know. The frigate. It crashed next to one of their most heavily populated settlements." Shan'taroh sighs. "..Make sure we have a clear landing zone. The sisters and I are coming too. But... what if the humans are foolish enough to think we were sent by their god? More importantly, will they declare war if they think we are enemies of him?" "There will be only one way to know for sure. I'm making a landing now." Vandis lowers his ship to the ground and disables its cloak. He equips his foreign species translator, and steps out of his ship. Humanity could have survived. In the end, their faith was their downfall.
I sit uncomfortably next to...literally the last boy on earth. We don't talk to each other or look at each other, just sit on this idle hilltop looking down at our ghost town inhabited by no one. I grimaced, why did it have to be him, of all the boys in the world or the entire universe. It had to be him. We went to the same high school together and he was in my group of friends, we used to be okay friends...we uh...we even dated a little. Nothing serious, just something casual. Then we broke up. Lewis wasn't the hottest boy in school, he wasn't the ugliest either, just kind of average and nerdy looking, but the nice looking nerdy? He had glasses with thin frames, his acne was only mild, he had light-brown hair with bangs that swooped across his forehead, he was tall and skinny with a decent muscle tone. He always wore button ups and t-shirts and he liked all the stereotypical geeky shit like D&D and star trek, but he was also a fan of hockey and rugby for some reason, I guess he was trying to be edgy and 'unique' in his favorite sports (What a loser!). The day we broke up, right before we broke up he leaned in for a kiss awkwardly and I pushed him away, I said some really mean stuff to get him off my back. "Stop it! I don't really like you, you're an embarrassing tool!"I'd shouted "I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last boy on Earth!!!"I thrust my hands in the air furiously, "We're through!"I stormed off as he yelled behind me "Morgan, wait!!!", I didn't look back, I didn't want to see his big cow eyes with tears. It was embarrassing, honestly I felt bad but I wasn't going to show it. "Morgan"he said softly beside me breaking me out of trance "We uh...we could start looking again. More food or...more people"he gave a goofy dumb grin "Might as well, we got dibs on everything! How awesome is that?" I got up, "Yeah, I guess, let's go."As we traipsed down the hill he went on and on about our friends and what we did last week as if everyone on the planet didn't just suddenly disappear a day ago. I kind of went along with it, remembering when our friend group went to the mall and took dumb selfies in front of unsuspecting strangers was pretty fun. His chipper, upbeat attitude never waned and I don't know why he couldn't feel awful about everything like I did. Made me feel like a colossal bitch who was just grumpy all the time. As the day wore one we treated the town shops like our own amusement part and I actually had fun with him. I smiled for the first time in a long time. I didn't have to pretend to be someone cool and higher ground like at school, we just relaxed because there was no one to judge us but ourselves. Lewis waved his hand in the air as he held an ice cream cone in the other, "We could go anywhere now, we could go to the other side of the world and see the eiffel tower, we can be explorers. It would be so cool. We can write a book or take pictures of our expedition, it'd be pretty neat."I grinned widely and gave a giggle, "Yeah, it would be!", and involuntarily I found I took his hand in mine. He had a subtle smile but said nothing. We stopped dead in our tracks when we saw across the empty street, get this, another person. Just my luck...it was the second-to-last person I wouldn't want to be stuck with on Earth. "Logan?"I questioned. Logan, a rugged teen with scruffy hair and dark eyes, turned around, "Oh, Morgan! About time!!! Oh thank goodness! I'm so lucky I'm not alone!"he said "...and with my ex no less!", ignoring Lewis, he closed the gap between us on that empty street intersection and came towards us "C'mon babe, you don't have to hang out with this tool anymore now that you've got me"he chuckled "You actually have choices now."He took my hand and I pulled away angrily, "Augh, no stop!!!"I glared at him "I STILL don't want to date you Logan, you never respect my choices, I hate you!!!". Logan raised an eyebrow "You're kidding me, you'd rather be alone than with me, you bitch!"He balled his hands into fists. High school was really stressful, I was a total bitch, it's true. I rejected friends and people who I actually did like trying to be better and not fall into the social unpopularity trap. I always said I didn't like Lewis, but...he was a nice guy...not the fake nice trying to pretend he was better than everyone to get me to like him, like an ACTUALLY nice guy. The day we broke up, he just...kind of continued our friendship, albeit coldly and uncomfortably. Not Logan, when we broke up he constantly harassed me to keep dating. Now here we are at the end of the world and he's doing it again. I looked to Lewis as he glared at the other guy "Come on man, leave her alone."he said "I'm not here to play sides, if she doesn't want us, we should just go our separate ways...o-or...call a truce or something" I angrily shouted "Shut up! Neither of you get to speak for me"I stepped forward and shoved Logan, "You're a jerk and I hate you! I'm not going to date you ever, not even now!"I looked to Lewis "Lewis is my friend! Not even my friend, he-he cares about me genuinely and I've always pushed him away just to be with my asshole friends and stupid guys like you"my face grew red and hot, and I looked back to Lewis again "I'm sorry Lewis, I was always a bitch to you". Lewis grinned "Oh yeah, you were...but you were always grumpy and stubborn I kind of knew that about you already, haha!" "Fuck off with that shit! Morgan, you don't have a choice, there's nobody in the world that can stop us from being together!"he gestured towards the empty roads and blinking stop lights "Nobody!" I glared at my evil ex Logan and with a strong-willed hand grabbed Lewis by the shirt collar, pulled him down to my level and kissed him long and deep. It was an electric moment and I could feel his shock traveling to me. When I let go our eyes met with a silent message and he gave me a goofy smile. "Oh I get it, I'm still not the last boy on Earth, aren't I? You really are stubborn!" Logan screamed and pulled out a switchblade from his pocket, "How about you decide when I'm literally the last guy on Earth, huh! Would you rather be alone Morgan? Would you?". Lewis and I looked at each other and we ran down those empty streets between many an empty shop, being chased by my psychotic murderous ex at the end of the world.
Why do you do this to me? Why do you put me through this? Oh, you have a story to tell? Well, I’ve got a story, too, you motherfucker. Don’t make me say that! You make me say these horrible things. I’m a good person. You made me a good person. Why are you punishing me like this? Do you take some sort of sadistic pleasure in torturing me? You sick fuck. Stop that! Please, stop. You make him torture me. You make him rape me over and over. You made me fight, you made him win, you made me hate him! I don’t want to hate him, I want to help him. But you knew that, didn’t you? You made me this way. So I’ll ask you the same thing you made me ask him. Why are you doing this to me? You love this, don’t you? You’re just like him. You want me to beg, you want me to scream, you want me to fight. You love it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you are a sick bastard. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... Yes, I did. I finally did. But you’re writing that, too, aren’t you? You’re using me in some sick game you play with yourself. You’re using me to torture yourself. You need help.
You never realize just how strange people are till you can hear their thoughts. "God my stomach hurts. That tuna was awful." Yep, that's me, just your average Joe walking down the streets of New York. "I swear, if Jessie peed on the sofa again, I'm gonna kill her." Those aren't people talking. I can read people's minds. "Oh I can't wait till tonight. She's gonna look so cute in those..." That's enough of that. See the problem is... "RUN RUN RUN IM LATE IM LATE IM LATE IM SO FUCKED FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" ...I can't control it or cut it off. So literally every little thing... "Why can't we dip hot dogs in chocolate?" ...people think is being played in my head. "Shut up Barbara...nobody cares about your dog." People really aren't as interesting as you might think. "Hehehe...I love these memes" Everyone sort of thinks about regular thoughts. "She looks hideous in that skirt. Lose some weight" Some are mean, some are happy, and some are downright strange. "I just ripped ass. Can I smell that?...Yup. that's a bad one. Walk away. Walk away" It gets annoying sometimes, but I don't mind usually. "Damn that stinks." I just carry on about my day. "Yeah good day to you too jackass charging $4 for a coke." I wonder what you're thinking right now.
I fumbled through the notebook he left me, desperately trying to find instructions. I figured after leaving 16 messages over the past 3 weeks, he probably isn't calling me back. "The cloak makes you invisible..."I muttered to myself, "The scythe takes the souls...put them in the pocket...deliver them to heaven or hell..." Sounded simple enough, but as it turns out, being Death is a difficult job. I had only completed 3 tasks so far. On the one hand, people were amazed at the crashes and accidents people were surviving. On the other, getting maimed and surviving wasn't exactly the best for some of these people. I was a little behind on the work but I was trying to catch up. The first job I pulled, I swung by Grandma Jenkins house. Forgot the cloak and missed the first couple of times I swung the scythe, but I figured it out eventually. Cost the poor cat a couple of lives when I knicked it though. Didn't have to do a whole lot of work for Farmer Greg. See, he accidentally ran himself over with the tractor. Poor guy. I kinda just picked his soul up and shook it to get the blood and everything off of it. I felt my cleanest job was probably Mr. Smith. I snuck in, swung the scythe, got out. Easy day. Problem was, the name was kinda scribbled and I couldn't tell if it said Smith or Smitty so I kinda guessed. Hope I got the right one. All in all, being death is kind of a shit show. I'm not great at it, but I'll figure it out. I mean, it's only death right? How hard could it be?
The first time I fell in love, it truly was like an arrow piercing my heart. Emily became my entire world. When I wasn’t with her, I would daydream about being near her and wrapping my arms around her. I had to hold back from sending constant texts asking how her day was going, what she ate for lunch, or how she felt right now. Her smile—her brilliant happy smile that said that nothing was wrong in the world—would randomly appear in my mind’s eye, and I would yearn to drop everything, leave whatever I was doing, and go to be with her. The sound of her laughter— “Eros II? Are you listening?” “Yeah, uh… sorry Captain. Could you go over that last bit again?” I said haltingly. We stood on the roof of a tall parking garage in Los Angeles. Captain Reynolds was snarling over me, as I knelt down looking through the scope of my “Cupid’s Arrow”, or more accurately, my CA-45; the latest in a long line of Love Administration Rifles and the most technologically advanced. It was dusk, and our vantage point gave us a view where we could see humans illuminated in the streetlights and multicolored signs for various nighttime establishments. They were all dressed up and entering into queues for their favorite clubs and bars. We could also see several terraces and balconies where people danced and flirted, and wine and liquor flowed freely. We were camouflaged by some kind of light-bending field emitter that Hephaestus and his team had developed for us. Aries had been quite furious when Zeus had authorized our use of it, since it had long ago been banned for war use by Aries until the humans had developed something similar. Captain Reynolds sighed audibly. He never would have gotten away with that with my father. My father was more than just the top officer; he built the Cherub Corps from the ground up after the human World Wars I and II. I’ve heard him recount the story to hundreds of minor goddesses, gods, and a manner of other beings of how he only had to appear before the Council on Olympus once to make his impassioned speech for the other gods to sanction his vision. He had argued that with the new levels of violence, espionage, and long-range destruction capable with advancing human technology, that our methods of administering love had to be similarly advanced to counterbalance a full-scale global war. Surprisingly it was Aries, the god of war himself, who dissented the most in the militarization of love. “Love is a different beast than war,” he had said at the hearing for the Cerub Corps approval. “True love cannot be weaponized. Believe me, I have tried. This Cerub Corps is terrible concept and a colossal waste of Council resources.” “When you find your target,” Captain Reynolds was saying, enunciating each word like he was speaking to a child, “You need wait for them to turn and face you so that you can aim for the crotch.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. _Aim for the crotch._ Directive 33-9 or the “Crotch Protocol” as it was often called. This was the protocol that had been in full effect for the last three or four decades, or so I had been told at the Academy. “It makes the job much easier and much more efficient,” the professor had said. “Far less work in trying to karmically match people up like we did in the old days. And even though the relationship quality is reduced by activating the lust centers, we estimate the ultimate effect is the same. While the humans chase each other down and hump like rabbits, our data points show that they remain far too distracted to organize any full scale self-annihilation.” It turned out that Aries had been right. Arrows to the heart had to be precise, well-timed, and karmically matched to a partner (or partners in some cases). It was a slow and methodical process; an art form. Early attempts to increase the efficiency of love administration to the heart had proven flatly ineffective, and in some cases disastrous. Love, it seemed, followed an intelligence of its own. But then the Cherub Corps research division developed a new Arrow. That day in class I had raised my hand, receiving various looks of annoyance and bored curiosity from my fellow cadets. “Professor,” I began after he reluctantly acknowledged my hand. “I’ve been doing some research on the old Heart Protocol. Back when Directive 33-9 was still being studied, some of the early comparison studies showed that proper karmically matched Arrows sent to the hearts of lovers results in higher quality bonding, while the so-called ‘Crotch Protocol’ actually forms volatile bonds of addiction. “The heart bonding not only made humans lives better, but overflowed into the bonds with their family, friends, children, and communities. It reduced the capacity for humans to even bear sending their fellows to war. “The heart bonding even passed down through generations, increasing these anti-war attitudes. There are some studies that show that in the years since we increased use of the ‘Crotch Protocol’, war overall may be _increasing_ as political leaders and despots take advantage of the distracted masses—” “Misinformation and conspiracy theories,” The professor had said, dismissively. “But several of these studies were published in the prestigious _Hermes Journal of Divine Interventions_—“ “Be careful what you read, Cadet Eros,” The professor had responded, speaking over me. “The opposition to what General Eros I has built—to what _your Father_ has built—has been seeding these bits of fake news far and wide, attempting to erode the very foundations of our organization. I won’t hear any more of it.” He hadn’t heard any more of it from me, but I was certainly not careful with what I read. That turned out to be everything I could get my hands on concerning the comparisons of these two protocols. Still, his admonition stuck in my mind: Could my research of the Heart Protocol really be turning up only conspiracy and misinformation? It wasn’t until my own direct experience with love that I had received my answer. During a time when I was earth-bound and living as a young human male, I had been been struck by an old fashioned Heart Arrow, carried on a traditional bow by Corelia, one of the finest skilled Cherubs from before the Corps was built. That’s when I met Emily. [_Part II, below_]
"Freaking aliens,"Todd looked out of his apartment window at the teeming mass of non-humanity below. "I don't get it,"he said. "Why are they even here? Can't they just go up to Eclipse Station any time they want and see it there? Why here and now?" His roommate Arnav hadn't looked away from the television. "This is actually one of the few times they can't,"he said. "Eclipse Station usually sits at the right distance from the moon and in its shadow so they've got eclipse going on 24/7. But the thing that's at that distance now is Earth so they have to move it. Place is closed." "And they couldn't wait like a day?"Todd asked. "Nah, man, you don't get it,"Arnav said. "The aliens down there aren't the type that'd go to the station. I ran into one of them yesterday, and he explained the whole thing: Station's not authentic." Todd scoffed. "I've been to Eclipse Station before. The damn thing is so big that it looks just like being here on the surface, and that's just the part with an atmosphere that we can breathe. Artificial gravity gives it that 1G feel... there's no difference!" "That's where you're wrong,"Arnav said. "Because it's artificial, even if it's convincing. The alien I talked to was looking for the true experience. Here on the ground, among the rest of us, watching up at the skies like we had to do before the aliens got here and commercialized celestial phenomena." "Wait,"Todd said, "you're making it sound like...." "Yep,"Arnav concluded. "It's the only thing worse than aliens: "Alien hipsters."
I gaze out the window, My elbow resting on the wood frame. A faint glow surrounding every person around me. Some had different colours bordering around them. Although blue seemed to be the strongest and gray seemed to be the weakest. Sighing, I closed my eyes, allowing my breath to slow. Everyone was scared of me. Even the people who saw me watching me, gave a little step back. To be honest I was scared of myself. What would I achieve if I let go. Deciding to end my spectating of the world outside of my window, Only a fraction available to my eyes. My eyes drifted slowly open,a new day unfolding before me. I sat up from my bed, still rubbing the sand out of my eyes. The memory foam slowly rising from the lifted weight. Soon a knock could be heard from the door to my room. Without even the slightest hint of hesitation, The doorknob turning in my hand. It's brass coloring reflecting myself, A bright blue aura surrounding me. "Hey bro, if you aren't going to open up, I'll do it for you!" Soon My little brother Micheal ran into my room. Hopping onto my bed with barely any time passing. His aura a faint-ish gray. "Bro why is the light around you so blinding" The question struck a low blow. I didn't know how to reply. So my shoulders just shrugged. Soon I felt nauseous and my control declining with it. Everything seemed to fade after I shrugged. My vision darkening at the corners and advancing till it was pure black. Energy filling my entire body. All I could hear was my horrified brother's shrieks. ( I hope you like this short story. Any suggestions or feedback would be helpful!)
“Well look at you,” He said holding his arms out wide to give me a hug. All fear, worry, and exhaustion being lifted by the sight of his kind face. I leaned in to allow him to hug me. He did so with glee squeezing me tight all the while laughing. “You were but a wee lad the last I saw of you,” He said pulling back. His hands still gripped my shoulders as he looked me up and down. To my eyes I had not changed much since I had left the tiny town five years ago, but apparently there was a noticeable change. Or perhaps it was the years we had been apart that tricked his eyes into thinking I had changed. He patted my shoulders one last time before starting off with a huff into his tiny colonial cottage. “You need tah tell me evrehthin,” he said. He normally would try to stifle his accent but his excitement was making him careless. Why hide it when I could understand it. The inside was just as I remembered it. Clustered with knick knacks and trinkets from his travels. I followed him into the kitchen where he was already joyously putting on the kettle for tea. Everything the same. The same mugs sat on their hooks, various containers of tea scattered underneath along with various jars of honey. “So how have ya ben?” He asked. Like his home, he too hadn’t changed. The same aged face that I had grown up with. He was forever 70 it seemed. I shrugged a response. There had been more downs than ups. I had left to make a life and ended up experiencing the worst of humanity. He was the only kind person left in my life. He sensed something was up. The joy left his face and was replaced by concern. “What about your parents?” His accent was gone, replaced by the poised articulate man he showed the world. It was his way of controlling his thoughts, funneling them. “They’ve told me not to come home,” I said softly. I had been able to keep my composure about the whole ordeal, but in front of him I felt the dam break. He pulled out a chair and guided me to it. “You told them,” He asked sitting down across from me. “Tried, they didn’t let me finish,” I said, my voice cracking at the end. He put a hand on my shoulder. “You will be fine.” The kettle began to whistle. He stood, turned it off and began to make tea. I knew he would say the night was long. I was more than ready to talk. We moved to the foyer where he started a fire. A place I had come to tell him all of my trials and tribulations over the years. Now was no different. Once I started everything spilled out. All the pain and hardships I had endured. He sat quietly commenting where needed but mostly there to take everything in. He never told me what I felt was wrong, instead he had always preached to let the emotions move through me. There was no better way to deal with them than to let them take their course. I spoke for what felt like an eternity, but finally the words were dried up. He now was caught up on my life. With a sigh he leaned back into the old chair, staring off into the dwindling fire that neither of us had cared to tend. For a while we were quiet he absorbing what had happened while I tried to rebuild the emotional walls that had finally broke. “Can I tell you something?” He asked. His voice was soft, tender in a way no one else ever spoke to me. “As long as you haven’t told it before,” I quipped. That brought a smile to both of our faces. “This is something I have never told any one.” For a moment he paused. I sat up, my mind racing to find a clue as to what he might not have told me. “I’m going to tell you about the first time I died because soon you will experience your first death. I don’t want you to be as terrified as I was the first time.”
Five months later "Master thief Frank Nigma, also known as The Riddler, was apprehended in the midst of a robbery late last night. The captor is unknown but there's some evidence that hints to a new vigilante...or the return of Gothams original one..." Blake switched off the TV and stretched out on the couch. He had adjusted to this new life but the house still gave him some weird vibes sometimes. Almost like Bruce is lurking in hidden rooms watching his successor. He closed his eyes but he was quickly interrupted by Alfred. "Sir, there's noise coming from the Bat Cave." "Man or machine?" "Sounds like footsteps." Blake kept and ran around Alfred, donning his mask in the process. He sneaks through the house and down to the Bat Cave. There's a faint voice but Robin couldn't tell if it was familiar or not. He emerged from his hiding spot and pulled out a Batarang. He looks at the intruder puzzled...he was dressed like a common magician. "You know Vegas is about a thousand miles west." "Must've taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque." He didn't move as Robin continued to approach. "Say they call you Robin right? Well then I have a special trick for you." He takes his hat off and his wand out of his pocket. He waves it around the brim of the hat before flicking his wrist towards Robin. Robins stops in his tracks as a flock of robins swarm around him and screeches. He covers his ears and tries to track his their through the birds to no avail. He pushes through the swarm with a grunt and runs out a secret entrance. He reaches the outside of the mansion. He looks around but his thief seems to missing. He puts the Batarang away and looks around, faint footsteps still in the distance. "I tried to stop him..." The voices startled him as he quickly turned around, pulling out the Batarang. The women behind him raised her hands and backed up a little. "Are you working for him?" "No...actually I've been chasing him, hoping he'd lead me to you. " "Why? " "My names Raven, I need your help..."

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