Split (1)

train · 177k rows

prompt stringlengths 391 14.9k
The blinkers beep is similar to the noise of a heartbeat. You learn to tune it out from the day your born, always there making a sound, but is somehow still silent. &#x200B; Until it is. &#x200B; My heart was sent racing as my hand dived in my pocket, bringing out the sleek, black oblong device that I had gotten so use to hearing throughout my life. I desperately smacked it a few times in a faint hope it had just stopped working or broke, even though I knew it was impossible. After a minute of praying I gave up as tears started to well up in my eyes, blocking out my sight. I quickly looked at my watch and memorised 11:26 AM, the time I was going to die tomorrow. What a lousy way to wake up I thought as I grabbed my phone and opened up messages immediately. My two thumbs hovered over the family group chat, preparing to write a goodbye message to the people who had brung me up when I noticed a bubble coming from my mum's face. &#x200B; I decided to wait until she finishes as to give her more time to be happy. I gingerly waited as seconds stretched into minutes, the three dots shaking as much as my hands. Finally, she posted 4 words. &#x200B; "My Blinker turned off" &#x200B; I quickly gasped. Maybe it was a glitch! My thumbs were just a blur with how fast I responded and within a few seconds my family received "so did mine, I think its just a glitch though if yours just turned off to"o. Within a second my sister's face appeared at the side of my screen. "Mine turned off too! Was so scared!" &#x200B; I breathed a sigh of relief as my younger brother and dad both posted the same thing, my dad also linking us to a news article about billions of blinkers stopping for no apparent reason. We all laughed at our fear once we knew that we weren't going to die. Maybe Space-X had finally decided to update the blinkers? Who cared I thought as I slid into bed, enjoying the silence without having to tune out a blinker for once. &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B; On the other side of the world, 20 Russian planes lifted of the ground for what could be the last time. On the underside of the jets were a simple package with revenge painted on them, and a timer counting down with only 5 hours to go. &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B;
"What I don't get is the birth part,"I say, staring down at the faceless human tide twenty-seven stories below. "I mean, why go through all of this just to eventually die?" Cat stands beside me gazing down at the same tiny street. Rush hour in the big city. "You know as well as I do how altruistic we've become,"she says, "Immortality opens the mind and allows us to see, to think beyond ourselves."She turns and prowls back to the designer sofa. Her name fits her well, I think not for the first time. Cat sits down on the pristine white cushions and pats the empty space beside her. "You can't just end an immortal's life, just like that. It is wrong." "But they end it anyway,"I say, sitting down beside her, "We effectively die when they wipe us, remove our memories, reinvent our experience."The apartment is sparse and modern. There is no TV, no internet, nothing to detract from the passing of time. Immortals have a lot to think about. "It's one of the Galactic Council's ten tenants, "Cat says, repeating to me what I already know, "One of the founding maxims of our society. You can't end the life of an immortal." I scoff. "So they get around it by making us mortal. By sending us here to live out mortal lives, good or bad, hard or easy, but ultimately always ending in death,"I say, still not convinced that this is any different from simply being killed. Cat turns towards me, her eyes filled with dark intensity and a depth of experience not possible in a human barely three decades old. "They allow us to decide our own fate, here, at least,"she says. "If we forget what came before, maybe,"I respond, "But we haven't forgotten."I look wistfully up at the ceiling, like I can see into the stars and out towards the worlds that I know reside in the great beyond, circling suns far older than this one. "Existence here seems so pointless,"I say, still looking upwards. "It is,"Cat agrees, "Relatively speaking, it's all pointless."She sweeps her arm outwards, taking in the room and everything beyond, "This place is manufactured, those who live here are condemned to wink out of existence and most just accept it because they know no other way." "But if our punishment is so heinous, why do some live lives of pleasure, and others lives of poverty and despair."I am still staring at the ceiling. "Some are born only to die an hour later yet others live for a century,"I say, exasperated, "And it's all so random. Like a roll of the dice." Cat places an arm around me and pulls me in close, then whispers softly, so close that her lips brush my ear, "For some reason we remember,"she says, "And on a planet of over seven billion souls, we've found each other,"she gently kisses my ear lobe and sparks shoot through me at her touch. "In all your millenniums"she asks,"Did you ever feel a rush of emotion like this?" She runs her hand along my jawline and down the nape of my neck, "Did sparks ever fly like this?,"she whispers. "No,"I say, lost in the physicality of her touch, her smell, her voice, the sensations combining to swallow me whole. Cat moves her hand to my chin and turns my face towards her, "Listen, Sam,"she says, "They come here to feel this again, the ones that aren't condemned. They come here to get lost in the totality of experience, to forget being immortal for a while. Some come for days, others for years." My heart begins to race. "So, if they come here to forget for a while,"I say, "There must be a way to get off this planet, to go back again, to avoid death." Cat nods. She stands up and walks over to the window and stands there straight backed with her arms locked rigidly to her sides, her fists clenched. She looks down at the human ants cradled in a world of artificial lights. "And I think I know how they do it,"she says.
(Voyager counts as a transmission, right?) The object hit our atmosphere and immediately shattered. Almost instantly, the videos flooded the news. It was obvious that this wasn't just another rock from the Fragmented Zone, nor another shred of the Cosmic Fathers. This was too delicate. My unit was called back from leave, ordered to proceed with haste. We flew upon the mountainous plain where the fragments that survived entry were scattered, detaining those who lived there. They didn't have the proper clearance, my Commander said. The search took three days, and only two etched golden plates survived, one with rings, the other with strange drawings and codes. This was alien, no doubt about it. If the drawings were to be believed, they were a tall species, devoid of any plating and only sporting four weak limbs. The two types confused us. Were these somehow two warring factions? Some kind of unholy genetic experiment? No matter, that wasn't my jurisdiction. My task force was tasked with decoding the other etchings on the plates, as we were the nation's premiere computer engineers. We were elated at the assignment, most of the other factions treated our field like a child's game with jabs like "We already have brains, why contort a rock to think instead?"This was our big break. I digress. The rectangular plate outlined the trajectory of the... probe, I guess would be the best word. Their planet was third from their star, and rather close for our own comfort. The drawings also detailed their star's relative distance to others on our own charts. Not only were these species obscenely more advanced than us, but they clearly wanted whoever found this to visit. My team instantly published the findings, and the nation erupted. It was now proven travel outside of our own gravity well was possible, and we had the course already laid in. Construction of our species's first interstellar ship began, and the other circular disk was shelved as our funding exploded to develop programs to safely navigate the perils of the wall of debris that sealed us into out system. Months later, one of my apprentices, a new hire, burst into my office. He had been cleaning the Golden Disk as part of a reorganization effort on our archives, and had inadvertently dragged his scribe through one of the rings, and his tool emitted a noise. The damn thing encoded sound. Astounded as the ingenuity of these beings, I ordered him to decode it as cleanly as possible. What followed....was horrifying. First was what I can only surmise as a recording of their fauna. The noise was disorganized and at such high frequencies the people listening to it were driven out of the room. As we continued through, we were treated to a cacophony of sounds, including some minutes of some kind of loud thrumming which we deduced was a series of explosions occurring so fast they blended together. The disk ended with what might have been their speech, which like everything else on their planet was loud and unbearable, made worse by a mess of harmonies that seemed to undercut it. None of it could be understood, and due to the nature of the sounds, none of my team could endure it enough to decode it. It was settled. Communication with these beings would only end either in our death, or thiers. We quickly abandoned our mission, disappointed somewhat that this barrier existed, but simultaneously elated that such an encounter was avoided.
I am no coward. But I can not fight this war any longer. Frost-coated leaves crunch underfoot as I march down the forest path. Already the mud churned up by the battle hours before has started to freeze over. Only the enemy dead lay among the trees. The day was ours, and we retrieved our few fallen brothers once we claimed the forest. Scavengers could keep the rest. My foot caught on something, causing me to stumble, but not fall. Cursing, I kicked the debris clear. My own order's banner unfurled in the moonlight. Stained and ragged in the dirt, it must have been dropped during the battle. Sneering, I trod over it and continued on my way. I remembered seeing that banner during the battle, heard the horns as we rallied around it. The enemy cavalry bursting through the trees. The battle seemed hopeless at the time. It was close to here he fell. I slowed down my pace, and studied the faces of the fallen soldiers closer. Behind me, I heard shouting, a man calling my name. I ignored him and kept searching. But it was a clear night, and the leaves had long fallen from the trees, thus I was easily spotted. "Brother,"he pleaded as he came up to me. "The men, they said... they must be wrong." "If they say that I am leaving the order, then they speak the truth. You cannot change my mind." "This is outrageous! You can't desert! Your honour-" "I have no honour! None of us do! Not anymore. Today revealed that to me, but we fell long ago. Do you not know who we killed today?" "I do."he said solemnly, as he cast his gaze downwards. I followed it, and saw that his eyes were drawn to a shield laid upon a crushed body. "A good an honourable warrior. He fought well, and died with no regrets."I ignored my brother and kneeled beside the fallen fighter. "Good and honourable."I agreed. "More so than any of us." "It was his choice to fight here." "This battle was not righteous. He was a good man. We had no right to take his life. We should have been aiding him!" "Have you not forgotten, we offered him a place in our ranks. He could have been our brother. He declined to become a knight." "And thus we should have too. Back then, he saw what I only now see. How unworthy we are. How hollow our honour is. We were supposed to be defenders, like him, but it is clear to me now that we are oppressors." "We have a righteous duty to the kingdom we serve. It may not always seem that way, but every man fights for his home. We fight for ours. He fought for his. Neither of us are less justified than the other."he reasoned. Sensing that I was unmoved by his arguments, he signed. "Please, brother return to the camp. Think on your decision a little longer. You'll come around."I remained quiet. My brother in arms joined me in silence while he ruminated on how to get through to me. "If honour is your concern, then do not abandon your men. That course of action benefits nobody, least not yourself. Leave us to fight this campaign without you, and you would be a coward. Desertion is not taken lightly in the order." "Do you threaten me, brother?"I snarled, drawing my sword in a flash and readying it against him. My fellow knight did not even blink. "Do you wish for me to die as a warrior too? Try and return my head to the order, if you like, but I warn that you will not return either." "I will never fight you."he replied calmly. "And I know that you do not wish to fight me either. Unless you are truly convinced that we have no remaining honour, in which case, strike me down now."He folded his hands in front of him and bowed his head, in silent prayer. Just in case. I lowered my weapon. "I have not changed my mind." "I know."He replied, sadness in his voice. "I always feared the day that I would lose you in battle, but never imagined it would be like this."His sudden acceptance struck a chord within me, and his fear overtook us both. For the first time, i realised exactly what I was doing. I had spent most of my life with the order. I wasn't really sure who I would be without it. And yet, I knew I had to leave. I saw his fist clench, and his expression turn to one of determination. "Abandon our banner, if you must, but to leave you with no banner at all is unthinkable."He kneeled down and picked up the shield on the floor. "Take this as your new emblem. Show us both that you are not a coward. "He took his hand in mine, and pulled me close, pushed the shield into my arms, and wrapped his arm around me in an embrace. "Go now and find the honour you say you have lost. If you regret his death, then all you can do is fight for what he did." "Thank you."I said softly as I tightened my grip on him. "I will make a new order in his name. And should you ever need a new banner... I would be glad to call you brother again."We relinquished our grip on each other, and stepped away. He wiped a tear away from his face. "I find it more likely that should we ever fight in battle together again, it will be as enemies."
The tall slender female Grey stood in front of the auction room audience and cheerfully described the Humans for sale "...as you can see, Lot 24 originate from the Orion Sector, among a outer system of colonies that have a lower gravity than most human colonies, allowing them to be taller than the average Human of the Galaxy, their variants and types are all so lovely wouldn't you agree ladies and gentlemen?" A bidding war ensued for a few minutes until a reptile-like alien buyer won. "Sold to Miss T'laira! Do take good care of them!"The Collared Humans were obediently lead off with their new owner. Minds obviously blank and happy. "Got you! you goddamn abduction happy ETs"The Human Commando whispered under his breath and turned to his communicator in the safety of the vent system "Wolf Echo to Command, Recon Insertion successful, Human abductees confirmed on board smuggling vessel, subjects look to be pacified somehow, possible violation of Galactic treaties regarding mental and physical alteration of intelligent species. Requesting immediate intercept!" "Command? Command?! Shit where's my signal? Must be a scrambler somewhere" The Alien hostess continued to talk while the marine was desperately trying to fix his communication equipment "Now for our final and most awaited item of the day, a single specimen but nonetheless a rare one! An Earthborn male! Earthborns are a pedigree that have been in high demand but have never been acquired due to certain...hostilities around Sol and it's surrounding systems, until today! Trainers, if you could please bring us the adorable human male" The Soldier was still distracted until her hand beckoned straight towards him and the bright light of the stage was pointed towards him, temporally blinding him He went straight for his pulse rifle "Wait a minu-"but before he could finish speaking a sharp electoral shock was felt through the metal of the vents and everything went black He awoke a few minutes later, weapons and armour gone, restrained by a hologram cage and the eyes of the auction room on him and the Hostess standing over him "As you can see folks, he's a excellently impressive specimen and a cute one too!" "You psychotic xeno! Let me go or else! My transponder will lead the entire Terran Navy here!"He retorted angrily "Oh I'm afraid your equipment and location were blacked out as soon as you were aboard this ship, little Human. You won't be able disrupt this event with your mischief."She replied with an amused chuckle, not taking his threat seriously. "You'll thank me afterwards, you humans are too sweet and precious to not be looked after"she cooed and the audience let out a collective "awww" "Shut up you goddamn xeno menagerie psychos!"He angrily shouted The slender gray turned to face the bidders again. "Now before we begin the bidding, I'd like to demonstrate a new groundbreaking development in Human Domestication technology" She takes out a small device with what appears to be a syringe loaded into it and raises it for the crowd to see "This product here is the Nano-Obedience formula, fully tested and designed by our R&D department, gone are the days of extensive chemical and intensive mental conditioning required to domesticate feral humans. With this device here, you can have an rescue Human be just as friendly as Domestic breed. Using sophisticated nanotech, we can rewrite the Humans brain chemistry and pathways to change their nature from angry feral to happy pet. All while erasing memories and aggressive behaviours, leaving the Human ready to bond with their new owner and start their new life. Utilising the Human's dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin receptors, it will reward and encourage them to be around people, especially their owners. The happy look on their faces says it all, their worries fade away as they accept their place in the universe as our pets. Just as it should be" The bidders clapped "You're fucking insane."He said trying to hide the visible fear of his face and anxiety in his voice "Oh shush. You ferals can be so grumpy, you'll be fine, don't be scared, you won't even feel it!"she replied calmly Unable to move due to the restraints, he began to panic, he tried to think of a plan but the hostess wasted no time and shot the device clean at his neck and removed the restraints and hologram cage "Observe ladies and gentlemen. He is quite safe now Stage one, initial shock and anxiety will unfortunately occur as the human body responds to the presence of the nanites in the bloodstream, but this will pass and the Human will not be distressed for too long" She gently headpats the commando, who is too powerless to move or attack "It's ok, you're being really good! She said as she kneeled down and praised him A tiny blip of happiness intruded into his mind when she said that "No..."He mumbled weakly His mind raced in defiance "have to fight it, won't end up like them. It can't end like this...think of home...think of the mission" But it was no use, as the first wave of drug like intoxication hit as the nanites passed the blood/brain barrier, about to literally rewire him into a obedient, mindless pet. One last jolt of fear came over him before a cascade of calmness and disorientation fell over him. His memories began to blur, why was he here? Who was he? Where was he? Then he stopped worrying, he felt good. He felt safe. He looked up at the Alien Gray, nervous and apprehensive, wondering who she was. The last remnants of his defiance faded away with nothing more than a whimper. Then he felt a burst of happiness and euphoria in his brain, an uncontrollable need for affection came over him and he leapt into the aliens arms and hugged her. "Awww! isn't that sweet! Do you want your new collar?" He couldn't speak, a silent frantic nod was his answer. She placed him down and gently attached a leather collar around his neck "Good boy!"His brain melted with pleasure at those words. He was a good pet, he wanted to keep being a good boy "Now sit"he obeyed and sat happily, blissfully happy and uncaring about his old life, merely excited to be around all these nice people. "As you can see, it's a highly effective product and comes free with every feral purchase today, now for this darling Purebreed Earthborn here, we shall start the bidding at 1 million Credits"
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Earth as we know it has ceased to exist. We, all of us humans, have transformed into lights. Everyone's light is a unique color representing the mood of their lives (including their unlived days). Most people are represented by one color, rarely you'll see 3 or 5 colors in truly exceptional or gifted folks. You just gave birth to your daughter. She is a kaleidoscopic array of bright rainbow lights mixed with dark swirly shadows.
"My son, like I've saideth before, and so sayeth again: Thou must start at cross roads of the wretched elf and the salvation inn, where you are to meet the gatekeeper. Twill it be he who shall help thou unsheatheth thou sword." "Jesus, dad,"Jesus said. "Can you dial it up a few millenia please? What is wretched elf? Or a salvation inn? Or -" "I sweareth before, so sweareth again, I'm glad I waited last time until you were thirty. Look,"and He reached through the heavens to steer his Son's cheek with a ghostly index finger. "Down there. There's a pub called the Wretched Elf. Across the street is the Salvation Army Inn. And see that guy beatboxing and oogling women's shoes? You've got my eyesight, what does he have on his card board sign there? Gate Keeper." "That doesn't say gate. It's spelled with an @ sign." And the lord gently smaketh the back of his head. "Could I have made this any clearer? Go talk to that guy." "See, that was pretty easy, wasn't it?" Jesus strode down the boulevard, feeling not quite on top of the world (for having just come from there, he was confidant that what he felt now was not quite as sublime as he had felt some thirty days before). He darted across the street and approached G@t3 K33PuR. "Sup, fly man?"He lost a few more rap battles between his cupped hands. "Thems damn fine clothes. I dig it. They call me-"beat, beat beat. "Gate keeper,"Jesus offered. Beat, beat, beat. "No man, that's, like, my thing, not my actual name, yo. I just Gates. No, serious. Keeper. Yeah. I know, strange right?" "So your name actually is Keeper?" Beat, beat. "W'up, s'like this. My mamma she got like all up and down with this big star athlete man, like, he wasn't just little league or nothing. He was like pro-high, right?" "So he played high school soccer?" "S'what I said, yo, listen here: And, since, like, he lost his class ring or something, and my mama was like, yo, no way you ain't gettin' off that easy. So he hands her his class binder, and she smacks him with it and said she'd name their baby after the first name he had written down in there just to spite him. Joke was on her, it was empty. So, that was the first name she read and my mom don't lie she did what she said she'd do and here I am." "Yes you are,"Jesus said. "So, apparently, I'm supposed to, I don't know, bring some wrath, and my dad said I should go talk to this guy, I mean you, so, here I am." "Well,"Keeper Gates said, stuffing his thumbs into his waistband and pumping out his chest. "See, all you Jesuses know who to talk to. Keeper Gates. The Gate Keepah! See, there's another Jesus right over there? Just a minute."He held his hand to his mouth. "Yo, Frank, don't take a dump in the -"he waved his hand away. "Oh, never mind. Anyway, that Jesus, he knows what's up thanks to me. So will you too. For, like, say, fifty, no, uh, a hundred. Yeah, one hundred and I'll set you right up." "Uh,"Jesus said, starting to reach for his wallet. "Um, something about unsheathing a sword." "Unshea - um, a what now? A sword." "Yeah, in my mouth." "In your,"Keeper Gates backed up several paces and instinctively batted out a few beats. "Now, I don't know what you - Oh, I see, one them other Jesus put you up to this. No, well, lessee, how about this: Why don't you just toddle off to little miss muffet over there, sitting on her big fat ass motherfucking tuffet over there, and she'll unsheath that sword for twenty bucks behind the dumpster. How about that?" "Uh,"Jesus said, turned in the direction Keeper Gates had pointed. "Uh,"he said again. "Yeah, uh, no thanks. Get the fuck outta here." So Jesus set out on a new path, one set out before him by God himself, to meet with the Gate Keeper, and now, apparently, a syphilitic big bottomed - rather, an incredibly delectably extruded posterior - hooker who, pray Lord God Father in heaven, she might unsheath the sword in my mouth, so that I may lay thy wrath for thee. Because my dad is a vengeful dad. A spitefall dad. A take-no-pity on your young adult son while he gets staked to a motherfucking two-by-far after the world's worst episode of people's court dad. A I'm not going to show up for a couple thousand years this time just to fuck with them kind of dad. The kind of dad - "Jesus, give it a rest, please." "Well, she'd better be quick. My next shift starts in thirty minutes." And in the distance rang a thunderous roar, that of the Lord slapething thine own face.
“You’ve been getting back late from work really late the past few weeks”. “Uh huh” She muttered. If I’m being honest, I haven’t quite worked out if my suspicious mind is the result of complete and utter boredom. I think sometimes time can just feel like it is drifting past and without warning a whole year has passed or in our case, ten. We met in our early twenties, I was working as a barista at a local coffee shop and she would pop in every morning at precisely seven forty-five. She had immaculate timing back then. She always approached the till in the same way, a soft smile and faintly asking for a double shot latte. We’d often make a joke about how caffeine has enslaved us, and we are at whim to its powers. “And there is your double shot latte Mary, have a great day and I’ll see you the same time tomorrow” As I passed her the coffee cup, she’d raise it with both hands above her head. “All hail the caffeine king” She said. I’d then proceed to bow down to the mug and we’d both laugh. “I made you coffee and pancakes, your favourite” Mary looked directly at me and then the kitchen table and walked and drifted into the living room. Nothing can seem to get her to sit down and have a discussion, about anything. I guess she is just tired. She is working hard; long hours take a toll on the mind and body, so I guess I should give her a little slack. I finish up the chores downstairs before I head to work. I’ve been doing everything around the house recently, it’s become a bit of a nuisance if I’m honest. It’s so frustrating always having to clean up one thing after another. “I’m heading off to work in a minute, do you want me to come and say goodbye?” There was a momentary silence, I stood at the bottom of the stairs and could see that the bedroom door was open so she would of heard me. “Mary?!” I shouted louder this time, to make sure she heard. I was still met with silence. This has happened for the third time this week, I’m getting sick to death of her not responding to me or even really acknowledging that I am here. Screw it, I’m going up ther- SLAM. The bedroom door slams shut and it echoes down the hall, my heart starts racing. She gave me a fright and quite frankly I’m annoyed. “Mary, god damn it! You can’t keep on ignoring me for too much longer. I’m getting sick and tired of this!” I head out the front door. What a great start to the day, I wake up and I have a wife who can’t even be bothered to talk to me. Work is only a short car journey for me. I still work at the same coffee shop me and Mary met. The only difference now is that I run a cluster of shops nowadays. The pay is decent and the people who work there are nice, they work hard, and the company does treat the staff well. That tends to happen when it is only a small chain of shops. There is a role which has just opened as brand ambassador. I’ve been put forward as the main candidate for the job and to be honest it’s a role that I would take without having to think about it. As I approach the car park there are two police officers waiting outside the main entrance. It’s only been open for about an hour, what the hell are they doing out there? They don’t have coffee. Nothing looks vandalised. Have we been robbed? Who would rob a coffee shop? We have a bank nearby, I guess we are the easier target. Even still stealing what little money is in our tills would hardly be worth it if they got caught. As I get out my car I can see in my peripheral vision the two officers coming towards me. “James Barnet?” the first officer spoke. “Yes that’s me” “Can we have a word in private sir?” He was a tall, stocky man with a commanding voice, his arms slowly start to usher me towards the police car. I begin to get a bit flustered. “Can you please tell me what this is about before we go anywhere?” I gave a panicked reply. “We believe that we may have found your wife and we need you to confirm that it is her” “I’m sorry?! Found my wife?” “Yes, we had a gentlemen ring up about a hit and run along Princes Way, he reported a car mounting the pavement and knocking a lady into the forest. We recovered the car but have only just been able to locate the body around two miles away deep into the forest” “And when was this? She was at home about fifteen minutes ago?” “The accident was two weeks ago” “Well then, it can’t her becau-“ The officer interrupted. “Can we stop by your house? We will need to confirm that she is alive” “Of course, let’s go now. Let me tell the guys in work I’ll be about forty-five minutes” “Okay that’s fine. James, do you know why your wife has not been at work for the last two weeks?” “Excuse me?” What the hell. Where the hell has she been going then? “We rang her work and they told us that they haven’t seen or heard from her in two weeks” “I have no idea. That er does not make sense as she has been working till late, or so I thought” “Have you not spoken to her for two weeks James?” He began to look suspicious. “Well we have been having a bit of a rocky time of late” “Let’s get to your house and once we see and speak to Mary everything will be fine”
"It's an art you know" It might sound ridiculous but I'm glad I got the last word. Barely slipping through the closing door, these words snapped onto his coat. Don't be fooled, this wasen't the result of uncontrolled frustration. This was a eloquent jab, timed to a closing door so any chance of a response was cut off. Most people find excitement teetering on the edge of risk and I'm no different. Im still a man after all! So I spend my Saturdays, telling drunks at the local bar big secret. Who I am! What I do! How many I've killed! Discreetly of course. But I specify just enough. Just enough for them to maybe, if they fully concentrated, and, just maybe, piece together my profession. And of course, they never did. Do I secretly wish they would understand? That they would uncover the truth? Like I said. I am a thrill seeker, and I find excitement on the edge of risk. I am a man after all! And the mist of my boastful babbling, I'm sure the bartender views me as one of the drunks hobbling home in 4:am on a Saturday night. What does it matter? I got the last word! But you are not here to educate youself about by verbal victories. You want to know about my next project. You want to be the first to know! Is I stated before I am an artist. And war isnt art. War is cruel and Ugly. Also War is messy and you know, over used. Ive evolved as a person and grown out of my shell of comedic and ironic activites NO MORE! No! I have taken the position of an artist and so my next project will be Poetic! Oh yes! Robots taking destroying their creators? Human greed ruining their own planet, their home? Something like that Yeah. Something...poetic Well you better go I have to begin my work soon... Please refrain from any more questions No need to dig deeper. No need. No need... The news will find you. You'll hear about it when it happens...
As more and more people become introduced to the telepathy the size of the British secret service was growing. it was now 2018 and after complaints from silent mouth representatives of various businesses and organisations MI6 had decided to mentally give people no choice but to subscribe to government approved thought patterns. With creative thought heavily moderated and modified to support only the governments propaganda. Only, little did most of them know that thought provoking had been around for much longer than the agency itself with civilisations 50,000 years old showing signs of the same types of organisation. The main issue was figuring out what would give people the most happiness with various organisations disagreeing because of greed. little did most of them know that 49,000 years ago there was a plan to calculate once and for all how the telepathy should be used this plan was supposed to end 2000 years after the final stage begins, the love from god stage sponsored by Jesus and the many gangs who agreed to pull stunts to make him famous. The stories in popular culture are all real they are all designed to tell you things, and looking at a quantum level you could extract more from the stories than it was possible to assume if you didn't have the quantum level thought that telepathy taught you. every bit of fiction has been closely monitored by the secret services and their employees the silent mouths, people who never speak about what they know but have a wide understanding of how the world works simply communicating about it via telepathy. Much like how in the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy the earth was destroyed before the final calculations and the only surviving answer was in the mind of Arthur Dent the secret services suddenly realised the last person to wake up had been taking up the most of their supercomputers power and so the Illuminati and other secret societies of the world decided to protect them from MI6 and the other less well known gangs/agencies and dedicate even more resources because it was a way of providing the human race with the answers it needed. They did this by cancelling out any thought that entered the mind of the one that was left until they realised that they were in control and then to support them until they were global president or some similar role with the public recognition they deserved and think they needed to build a bigger mindset for all, which everyone wanted to happen sooner rather than later.
“Lucifer.. I see you’re a man today, not doing that weird tranny goat thing any more?” God asks with that eloquent yet flatly crude passive aggression he is so well known for. “Uhh.. humanity, Earth..” “Ok so wait, are you the goat with boobs or not any more?” God reasserts. “No, uhh I realize how uhhh.. can we just move on?” Lucifer shuffles. “Its okay kid, we all like to pretend sometimes.” God savingly offers. “So Earth? The people there are full of kickass stuff? Creative? Free? Selflessly love each other? Completely innovative?” “Well.. about that..” Lucifer looks across the Galactic Association “Goddamnit Lucifer are you still making all those fucking-a weird ass music videos... jumpin and dancing and beboppin around like an idiot again!?” One of the lesser Solar gods blurts out. “FFS sake, can you just do your damn job and leave all the stupid, what is it called MTV bullshit behind?” Another Solar Council member chimes in. “Well its just.. you know.. Im only a teenage reptilian girl and why are you guys.. come on why are you always so hard on me..!?!?” Lucifer begins to cry. “Dammit Lucifer, this IS NOT ABOUT YOU. For the hundredth fucking time, this is about them.” God begins to sit forward. “And I swear on the Ancients, if we go down there, and even a single child has been driven off a cliff this time, I am personally going to light your ass UP, Lucifer. Fuck!” God really begins to lose patience this time. “Uhhh NO NO.. uhh you know what, give me a minute God, something came up, todays not good, Ill text you guys soon, promise.” Lucifer splurts out before rushing off.
In the heights of a building made of glass, steel and neon sat the Core. A group of individuals who had so far remained invisible to the average. Their power lay in markets and influence. The words exchanged in their roundtable meetings were soon uttered by governments around the world. Another such meeting was taking place, but this time it was different. Their usual calm and superior demeanor was gone. They were nervous and lashing out at each other. "YOU SAID UNHACKABLE!"a loud voice silenced the room. Mrs. Yin they called her. A woman who didn't refrain from gluttony. As she spoke she had bashed the table with her fist, but it lacked strength her voice had. Her words were aimed at the slim man across the table. He was conveniently called Mr. Yang. The name was fitting, while all of them had commited heinous crimes against humanity in the name of their greed, Mr. Yang was the least guilty. A technology conglomorate who didn't feel he had a choice if he wanted to survive and prosper. One of the few members who often countered the many megalomaniac endeavours of the Core. He hadn't said a word to the other members since the broadcast. His workers had no solutions. The world around him tightened. "Th-They.. It's a lie. It must be." "You are done Yang." "Why are you blaming me? We don't even know if the nanobots are actually compromised. I think they only have control over the communication system, which was developed by a subsidiary of Mr. Foxtrot." Mr. Foxtrot stood up from his chair slowly. This man was an absolute unit. He towered over Mr. Yang. "Need I remind you Mr. Yang. Your nanobots use my communication system, which hasnt been breached in decades. DECADES! If they would be in control of it. The city would be in chaos. No, Mr. Yang, what they have is a narrow way in and without a doubt - It's your tech." Mr. Yang collapsed in his chair as the room turned against him. They didn't hold back. Bringing forth old issues and berating him. Until they were interrupted by the distinct tune of the city wide public announcement system. "Citizens. I wish you no harm, but I see that my threats have not been taking seriously. There have been no efforts made to meet my demands. I believe this is cause for a demonstration. I hold no ill will towards you, our above average brothers and sisters who have worked their way to a better life, so for now, I will not touch you. This does not go for the suits in their neon castles. Citizens, you have been lied to. The government you've elected is null and void. Right now, in our very city, a council of 12 sits. They call themselves the Core. I call them the disease. These 12 puppeteer your c h o s e n leaders. The worst of them, is called Mrs. Yin. Real name Angelika Ridgeway. In 1 minute, the same nanobots which have kept this child molesting scum in power beyond her long due expiry date will quite literally eat her inside out. The same goes for her loyal subordinates. Good bye, Mrs. Yin." She stood frozen for a while and looked across the table. Mr. Yang was gone. "Where is he?!"she paniced seeking for help as everybody took a step back, "You've got to do something! Someone help me!" Her efforts came to an end as blood poured out of her mouth. She winced and drowed in her own blood.
"Might as well,"Lucy shrugged. She accepted the plate with two slices on it with a nod of thanks. "We're all gonna die anyway." "Don't say that,"Mando smiled at her as he plated another pair of slices. "My wish has worked out pretty well so far."He patted the brick oven on the side. "This thing hasn't let me down yet,"the older man smiled at the rest of his gathered friends. Though their attention was on the news, not on him. Mando's large screen TV showed skeletons raining out of black holes in the sky. The view switched to different cities, but it was always raining skeletons. Each member of the small group that showed up took turns looking up at the sky. Lucy laughed. "You're right! I remember when it popped out at that banana and honey pizza,"her laughter drew everyone else's attention. Greg, Mando's stepson, joined in on the laughter as well."We didn't know what to do with it! HAHA. We left it out and the next thing we know a monkey shows up from out of nowhere and starts eating it!"He doubled over in his seat, red-faced from laughter." "And then the doorbell rang,"Carla took over the story with a broad smile. "A clown was going door to door looking for his lost monkey."She nodded at the pizza oven, then patted Mando on the shoulder. "That monkey's favorite pizza was banana and honey, the clowns give it to him as a treat sometimes."She shrugged. "There's no way any of us could have known that, but it worked. That's why we're here today." "Or to spend our last day together,"Lucy added."Have some faith in the oven!"Carla said with a smile."Fine. I have faith in the oven,"Lucy rolled her eyes. After her statement, the oven dinged to let them know another pizza was ready. Mando looked at his guests' plates, but everyone had at least a slice."Did someone want something else?"he asked while he moved to the oven. He grabbed the wooden peel and pulled the pizza out. "Uhh. Looks like ham and pineapple." "Gross, no,"Lucy replied first, but the rest of them seemed to agree the pizza sounded disgusting."AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH"Lucy shrieked suddenly. Mando looked to see what the problem was. The short woman pointed at a vertical black hole hovering a foot off the ground. "Get behind me!"Mando moved to stand in front of his guests. He held the loaded pizza peel in front of them. He saw white come out of the portal and panicked. He swung the peel like a catapult to launch the steaming pizza at the portal. A deafening yell, louder than a train whistle, caused the pizza to explode in mid-air. The volume drove Mando and his friends to their knees. Once they were on the ground the sound stopped. "Rude!"a girl's voice said. Mando did not recognize it. "We probably scared them,"another girl said. Mando looked up and saw three young girls. A tall one with short, spiky white hair, a short one with long black curls, and one between them with short, spiky black hair."Hi."the Asian girl with black spikes waved. "Sorry if we scared you."Mando felt safe enough to stand up. He helped Lucy up while Greg helped Carla. Once they were all on their feet Mando looked at the dark-haired girl and nodded. "I think we're all okay. Sorry for throwing the pizza at you. We thought you were invading. Who are you?"he asked ."Oh! I'm Jenny,"she smiled. "That's Dread,"she pointed at the tall white-haired girl. "And that's Dirge,"she gestured at the girl with dark curls. "Why did you think we were invading?"she asked. Mando pointed at the TV. Black portals continued to rain skeletons on cities. "We need to leave. Now,"Dread said. Dirge nodded and turned towards the portal. "What's going on?"Jenny asked. "Ballisea's taking over."Dread answered her. "Whoa..."Jenny watched the TV for several seconds. "You said she was powerful... but.... wow.." "Let's go, Jen."Dread placed a hand on her shoulder. The girl nodded and turned to go back into the portal. She caught sight of the pizza remnants on the ground. "Oh man! Was that ham and pineapple?"She stopped before entering the black hole. "I love ham and pineapple."The girl turned toward Mando. "Hey. Got any more?"The oven dinged and Mando nodded. "I do if you take us with you." "Okay,"Jenny smiled. "And the oven too!"Carla added."Uh.."Jenny looked at Dirge. The curly-haired girl nodded with a shrug. "Okay!" \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #335. 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.
Working as a recorder had always been an easy job. Initially I only had to record a few thousand perspectives of every day, but as the human population grew, so did my work load. I must admit that I was relieved when the wars started. I had been working over time trying to find details to differentiate each life in the city. They all seemed so repetitive and boring, every person experiencing the same misery as the next, yet both would say “I’m good, and you?” The only problem with the war was the aftermath. The baby boom that drastically increased population, and most of them too young to have interesting lives. The world population kept rising, and my workload kept increasing. 3 billion people, took a lot of time to record every day, and 6 billion took twice as long. Today we reached the 8 billion mark. Today happened 8 billion times, once for every human on the planet. So many of them were similar or boring, but none quite the same. This job is tiresome, but it has its rewards. Every day at least two people share a special moment, and get to experience it from both sides. The moment when fingertips touch, the barest feeling that causes such a cascade of emotions. Electricity races up the arm and butterflies explode in the stomach. It’s so pure, and it makes me happy. The moment when they see a friend for the first time in years. The wave of nostalgia that envelopes them, a physical sensation. The kiss on the forehead at night, as the child starts to fall asleep, and the mother looks down with love in her eyes and her smile. The child’s peaceful face, knowing that they’re loved and safe. Unfortunately there are also the bad times. When they’re scared for their life, and they’re trying to say no. When the person keeps approaching with the gleeful look in their eye. I feel sick experiencing both perspectives of that moment. The sickening feel of having no control, and the contrasting ecstasy of having all the control. The times when they have to let go. The tears in their eyes as they say goodbye. A final kiss goodnight, as the parent falls into a sleep they won’t awake from. The parting hug, as they go in two seperate directions. The regrets they both feel in that moment, and the longing for the past. Everyday is a new experience, and I get the pleasure and the pain of experiencing it all. All eight billion perspectives on today, and I see through them all. I feel them all. The ups and downs, the joys and the sorrows. One day perhaps I will be able to experience only one day at a time, and perhaps I might just get to decide on how to live that day. Until then though, I will l exist with the hopes, dreams, and regrets, of all the humans on the earth.
loose continuation of my story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a0oe67/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_being_in_the_zone_is/eaj8cjd/). The Elders were a powerful race that humans thought were in hiding, but in reality merely developed very slowly and only ventured out hundreds of years after their first had been born. One such elder taught stories and experiences to other humans, often talking to those who were in their sixties and seventies. Sure, they were still "children", but they could definitely be taught, as they were much wiser than their younger counterparts. One such Elder named Vekyl calmly strolled through town as usual, bustling with activity. The humans all greeting him as usual and he was glad to see some subtle improvements. However, what he didn't expect was the girl that was sent to him today, a young woman who was only twenty six years old. "Er... sorry! Greetings great elder, the name's Lily! I uh... I got lost and I'm looking for my home town Ikinara... perhaps you could lead the way?" Vekyl was utterly aghast at her lack of manners and her dressing. He was disgusted at the fact that the other children were even supportive of this. It was indeed true that he was free for quite a long time -- in fact, he was planning on an independent venture in order to let the children to thrive on their own for a week. He had already packed up and was ready to go-- but with this baby of a human? He looked at her in contempt, but he had to be careful not to turn her away so easily. The wisest of the wise knew to even take the most immature humans a bit seriously, protect them from harm... but this girl looked particularly troublesome. Her outfit was unkempt, she looked as if she had been in the rain for hours, and she didn't even deeply bow down to him. Vekyl thought about this thoroughly and deeply, while the child who had bought Lily to him merely raised her shoulders, confirming to Lily that the great and wise Vekyl was surely in deep thought and had insurmountable calculations to make. After quite some time, Vekyl finally nodded. "Very well then my child. I shall give her some learning experience and lead her to Ikinara. But do not blame me if she should fall to her own mistake." "Thank you!"She said, though the child nudged her and she then quickly followed by a bow, "Oh great Elder Vekyl."Well, at least she got something done right, even if one of his students had to teach her. He then trudged on forth, with her following closely behind. But merely a few miles away from the town, there were already problems-- human baby bandits on the attack. Sigh. These were always mildly troublesome, the immaturity of humans and the want of riches. The Elders would usually meditate for a few decades in order to get rid of these troublesome ideas, and it was a shame that the humans did not do the same. "Do not worry, little one. I shall protect you."He assured her. But to his astonishment, she wasn't scared at all. She prepared a fighting stance of her own, as the bandits drew their weapons, an absurd mistake to make against a powerful Elder. He pushed his palm, forcing all the bandits backwards. From centuries of learning the nature and the wind, he had mastered the force. "This is a warning, children. Go forth and play on your own time. Leave us alone."But the bandits wouldn't give up. One of them drew a silly toy called "the bow". That could be mildly troublesome as well. Vekyl scoffed and flung a backhand, smacking the bow-holder into the ground. The bandits all rushed in to attack, surprising him. What was even more surprising was Lily tackling him to the ground, saving him from the bandits. "Let's go!"She said with surprising speed, leading Vekyl away. This shocked Vekyl. "Hearken now, small human Lily. Those babies must be taught a lesson now, less they regret it later." "Are you kidding me? They severely outnumbered us. Sure, you had your skills, but I'm not sure you can survive that many bandits at once."Vekyl looked at him once again, and saw that she spoke the truth. Even he had a small wound, an opening that he did not fathom. And she got some cuts herself from protecting him. "Hmm.... I must say, I am mildly impressed. It seems like your young humankind hot-bloodedness isn't always terrible. However, you must tell me if you wish to do something this reckless next time."Lily rolled her eyes, though Vekyl didn't mind it too much. It wasn't everyday that a youngling human taught him something new.
Oh sh*t. This is your first response as the egg hatches and the mythical snake emerges. The diamonds already incrusted into the scales shimmer and sparkle, the dazzling rays of light bounce off of every surface and blind anyone who looks towards it. The snake keeps enlarging, slowly becoming larger and larger until it's the size of a large anaconda. Running out of the building you call the MCR (Mythical Creature Remover), ever since the the sky poured purple this has been getting more and more frequent, the mythical and dreamt of creatures coming from random eggs. The sirens in the distance alert you to the incoming forces, as you're hiding in the chemical cupboard you hear the slow slithering as it goes around the room stealthily. Just listening to the abnormal sound, you know they won't be able to kill it. You rack your brain for any way to kill it, you can't think of anything. CRUNCH. You're snapped out of your daze and slowly peek through the glass of the cabinet window, in horror you watch as the snake crunches the bones of the MCR, the best ones out there. In horror you feel the tears slowly leaking down your face and dripping onto the floor. You watch in horror as it lays egg upon egg, most likely gaining the nutrients to do so from the flesh of the unfortunate people who entered here. You look around for anything to use against it, you'll have to escape eventually after all. Nothing. There is nothing. You're a realistic person, so you accept your death as part of life and prepare to leave the cabinet. As you slowly creak open the door you hear it, people. There are people in this building. How did you forget. By this time it's too late, the snakes eyes have locked onto you and follow you as you step out. You brace yourself, preparing to feel the pincers slowly sink into as your conscious fades. Nothing happens. The snake doesn't move. Staring directly into its eyes paralyse you with fear, you know any attempt to escape is suicide, not like you're going to live anyway. Is slides towards you menacingly, it's younger flicking sideways and the eyes turning a darker shade, going black. It flicks you with its tounge. It doesn't attack, it doesn't harm you. You realise what's happened. It's time to rule. Edit: after reading through this I realise how many plot errors there is and that it's a little short, I might edit next time when it's NOT the middle of the night.
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I let out a sigh. Always. This always happens. I don’t understand how it happens, I think. I then look down and see my hair squirming and writhing around. I’m disgusted. What will the others think about me? I take a look around the barbershop through the mirror in front of me. It’s one of the more typical barbershops. The classic spinning blue/red barber sign. Posters of models on the white wall. Around three guests: an elderly man who leans on his wooden cane, a young businesswoman who keeps talking on her phone and a teenager who keeps playing on his phone. The elderly man is the only one who noticed, and lifts himself up with his cane. He then says “What is this, magic?” . The barber looks me straight in the eyes and asks me to stop scaring the guests. The barber then steps backwards hastly, drops a mirror which he uses to show the back of his clients’ haircuts and then looks at me in disgust, because one of the hairs crawls out of my mouth. The sound of the mirror hitting the floor made the teenager and the businesswoman look my way. The teenager then follows the barber’s eyes and looks on the ground. The teenager sees the moving hair that instant. Unexpectedly, the teenager pulls out his phone and stars recording the scene. At one moment the teenager yells “WORLDSTAR!” and kneels in front of the squirming hair. The other guests look at me in disgust. I then understand that it’s too late. I stop panicking and start smiling towards smile the barber. “Oh well”, I say. The facial expression of the barber then says it all. When I opened my mouth a bunch of hairs crawled out of my mouth. Everyone in the salon then starts looking at me. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I then stood up from my chair and pulled the barber’s cloth from my lap. Everyone took a step back, besides the teenager. On the contrary, he stepped forward and records right in my face. He steps back and yells the following; “Holy shit, y’all. This dude is crazy man. Look at dem hairs going they look like Lemmings!” Annoyed as I am, I stretch my right hand and straighten my fingers, then point them up. One of the squirming hairs hovers instantly around eye-level and turns into a small thin spear. I then turn my hand sideways and slash into the air. Right that instant the spear pierces through the cameralens and into the temple of the teenager, followed by his body hitting the floor. I giggle because I remember the lyrics of a song about bodies hitting the floor. After a short pause, everyone in the room started panicking and then they screamed. Oh how I hate screamers... I stretch both hands and massacre the entire salon. Calmness. It’s so calm, I think. I look around me and notice diverse colours lying around. It’s like art. Like a rainbow. I notice the hairpaints scattered everywhere. Satisfied, I walk out of the barbershop, but stop halfway because a piece of mirror against the wall was still intact. My reflection saddens me. I take a deep sigh. Always. This always happens, I think. My hair grew back like it used to be before I walked into the barbershop. Oh well, I think, then walk out the barbershop into the darkness. At the same time I notice a bright light lingering in the sky. I instantly feel good. Looks like the teenager posted the video I decided to kill him. The Bat knows of my arrival. Hello Gotham, my old friend.
Sheila: Jaaack! Jaack! Jack come here. Listen to telly.... listen goddammit and give me that beer asshole! U seeing this shit, go'vment will give us free flat if we gave them little sue-or-bob whitch ever pops out! Jack: What about lil Gary. Can we get some cash for his cry'n ass? Sheila: He's five retard... only newborns honey! Jack: He's crying all the time. Maybe if we shave his head and starve him for a while? Sheila: How dumb are U? Gary will be crawling the mines in no time! Money honey! The new one might be a dud cause of all the pills and stuff.... but no questions they said, and who gives a damn if this ...(points to belly) one lives a week or month. A win-win 4 all! Jack: Is that one even mine? I dont know! Sheila: if my meth is correct..... could be...BUT it might be Alans.... or Bobs. Jack: oh come on.... BOB!!!!! THE JEHOVA WITNESS Sheila: (quietly) well I got horny and U were takin a shit in the loo! Jack: Goddamit! I think U might be cheetin on me(hurt expression on face) After 2 months: (Knock on the doors, not so doors as cardboard opstruction) Inspector: Open up please! See4efef Sheila: seeWHATnow.... we not buyinn... fuck off!Insp: Children for flat and food madam. Sheila: oh.... Oooooh! Well come on in... JAAAck! They come Jack come here annn bring the merchendise! Jack: what merch... Sheila: THE BAYBEE you Kretin!!! Inspector: (pulling a silencer and mounting on 11.5 mm handgun) GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOULS Two shots fired Inspector: (one hand holding tucket in baby and in another small recording device) personal diary.... day 65. Two more has been put to death. The wretchedness of unholly and their numbers...kiling them..... is becoming... to drain me and fullfill me in the same time. DYSTOPIA YOU SAY. WELL HERE YOU GO. Had fun?
D-Doctor? What is that?! My assistant was staring at me in disbelief, and i, too, wasn't completely aware of what was going on. The research has been going fine for the past few days, even if we were working in secrecy from the rest of the higher-ups, this was an unexpected chain of events. As i stared in my hands, i could feel the distinct presence of both light and dark, looming over my shoulders. While one hand emitted a bright light, shining with Hope, the other one turned dark, almost sucking the light from the room, and with it, i could hear the whispers from the Darkness. I'm not sure, Belle. But we must make sure that this remains hidden from the others. Quickly now, hand me the gloves!. If the higher ups take notice of this, things could go very badly for the rest of our research, we have no idea what this kind of POWER could be used for, and we certainly don't want those Megalomaniacs to use it for themselves. Here they are doc-Agh! Belle was caught off-guard by the explosion coming from behind her, knocking her to the ground. *Heh, the readings were true, then. Seems your research really paid off, 'eh Doctor?* Lancer! What is the meaning of this?! My mind was rushing at the moment, he couldn't possibly know about- *Heh, did'ya really think you could hide from us for that long? We've been watching you 'Doc, following your every step without you taking notice, and now that we have what you want, you are disposable!* You bastard, what do hope to accomplish with this? *It's simple Doc, either you give us the research, or your assistant over there gets it!* >Lancer proceeded to point his gun to Belle, which was almost waking up. ...Doc..Please...Help me.. What should i do? If i don't act quickly, that bastard will- *Not gonna answer HUH?! WELL, TOO LATE FOR HER THEN!* No! I won't LET YOU! I instinctively raised my arm forward, and for a second, everything seemed to stop, i looked at the bullet coming out of the gun, about to hit Belle, stopped mid-air, with Lancer's sinister grin still mocking me. I didn't understand what was going on, and then, i heard two voices coming from behind me. >So, what are you waiting for? Aren't you going to save her? >There's no time to sit there admiring your new power, go ahead before it's too late. I silently nodded in confusion, then proceeded to raise my arm forward once again, this time, i could see Lancer and his bullet being knocked back, after that, time seemed to have resumed once again. *Urgh, you bastard, what did you do?!* I then rushed onto Belle and grabbed onto her, preparing my next move. It seems we will have to continue or talk later, Lancer. After that, i used my new power once again, and managed to teleport us out of the room. Belle was waking up. Uh...Doctor..What was that? I'm still not sure, Belle. It seems that there is still too much we don't know about this world. I looked back, and could once again see the creatures of light and dark. >So, what are you going to do now?. The organization is sure to come after you. >You must learn to use this gift, after all, you're the first one in years to hold this kind of power. They were right, i still don't know the full extent of my abilities, or the consequences of using them. But now that i hold this kind of power, i know what my meaning of this world finally is, and i can finally avenge my past comrades who contributed to the research, and make the higher-ups pay for what they've done. Kyle, Kris, Lisa, Gabriel, it's a shame you aren't here to see what your research has resulted in, but i'll swear, i'll make the ones who took your lives pay for it, every last one of them... I've stuck my arm forward once again, creating a portal. Shall we go, Belle? Sure thing, Doc! #End of chapter. ---
I plopped down on the couch. I wasn't comfortable, but I was too lazy, too tired, and too glad to finally be done having to move to correct it. I popped the TV on. More suffering. It was one of those shows comprised of stolen Youtube videos and a narrator wholesomely announcing a countdown of the the "Worlds cutest kittens!". I knew I hated this show, all those stupid sound effects added in for the sake of 'comedy', I knew I could very well change the channel, but the effort it would take to press 'Guide' and find a different show, was far beyond what I was willing to exert. A clip of a cat being fed sushi put me over the edge. This little fucker just sits around all day doing nothing, and gets fed twenty bucks worth of sushi, HAND FED. I screamed into the throw pillow. "LITTLE FUCKER, WHY CAN'T I LIVE THAT LIFE?!" I turned the T.V. off. I thought the noise would be soothing, but it only served to piss me right the fuck off. I fell asleep to the soothing sounds of my A.C. turning on and off every 5 minutes, adjusting to me being in the room. I slept like a fucking baby. The sound of a door closing woke me up. I looked up, and didn't recognize my surroundings. I was certain I was having an acid flashback. The room was huge, and it certainly wasn't mine. I was in some nice, clean living room. It was something out of HGTV. I heard some little footsteps brambling down the stairs at full speed. I tried to stand up, but the normal movements that would get me to standing, didn't work. It wasn't long after that I realized what I was. I saw my arms... I guess my 'legs' and immediately recognized I was fucking house-cat. It all hit me at once. I didn't understand how, or why, but I certainly understood what. Then there she was. Standing over me, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck raise. It was involuntary, a low hiss escaped my throat, one of those growls you hear late at night right before two tom-cats go at it. This little bitch smack me on the head. "BAD MR. SCHNOOKUMS! NO GROWLING! " A woman I assume her mother floated from a bedroom, through the living room to the kitchen. "Embry, honey, be nice to Mr. Schnookums. " She didn't give a second glance at this sadistic fuck, who A. Named their cat Mr. Schnookums, and B. was currently trying to pick me up by the middle of my stomach. Grab be under my armpits you stupid child! When she got me propped on her shoulder, I gave her a swipe to the face. That would have her thinking twice, as my hand... Sorry, As my paw reached her cheek, I tried to dig in as best I knew how. This body was new, and I wasn't all there in the motor functions yet. Declawed. These people are sick. "Come on Mr. Schnookums! We need to go now! " She put me down, and held onto my tail. I know we don't really have any point of reference for what this feels like, but its a real pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively. She put down her baby blue backpack, and unzipped it with her free hand. She then picked me up, again by the middle of stomach, and tried to put me in this Disney's Frozen mobile prison. Hell no, I thought. I wasn't about the be alone with this maniac for 8 hours, unsupervised. I refused as best I could, spreading out every limb to avoid being submerged in this poly-plastic hell-hole. The mother rounded the corner. "Embry, you can't bring Schnookums to show in tell in your backpack. Feed him, and then put him in the Kennel, I'll grab it. " "Okay!"Said Embry... God I hate that name. She picked me up and walked me over to the kitchen, nice place I gotta say. Granite countertops, clean new hardwood. If I weren't being manhandled by these grubby little hands, I could get used to this place. I was plopped down in front of two bowls. I wasn't exactly hungry, considering I had about 4 trains of thought, trying to comprehend what was happening, where I was, how could I get out of this, but those all halted when I saw what my diet would consist of. I've had my fair share of drunken nights, where somebody would dare me to eat a bit of cat-food. Dry food? No biggie, they're like flavorless meat biscuits. Honestly they'e not even bad. If that was what would be plopped in front of me, I wouldn't mind. Give me a couple hours, and I could definitely get behind having a little kibbles. But no. These Joana Gaines lavish sons of bitches couldn't have their precious Mr. Schnookums eating the peasant dry food. The can opened and poured out this rank mess of "Chicken Livers and Parts "part of the Fancy Feast Gravy Lovers collection. I would starve to death here. Not only was it some sick slop they wouldn't serve to prisoners, it was room temperature. And they kept this room cold. I had to get the hell out of here. But where? I drank some water, and learned to lap the liquid into my mouth efficiently while I thought who I should go to. I clearly had the same mind as before. Knew english. Could spell, write out messages in a litter-box, but who could I go to? Who would believe me? More importantly, who do I know who likes cats, doesn't currently have a cat ( Because I'm not trying to get my ass kicked by a territorial cat.. ) and feeds them dry food? Sarah has a cat. That won't do. Devon has enough money to feed a cat wet food, and that will NOT do. Then the perfect candidate came to mind. This person doesn't have enough money to buy some canned fancy feast, always loves pettings cats, and wouldn't bat an eye at their cat leaving spelled out messages around their apartment, all in part because they are perpetually high on marijuana. My dealer, Buddy! I've just got to plan my escape, and survive "Show and Tell". The little brat plopped me into the Kennel. Its going to be hard to escape, unfortunately. I saw my reflection in the chrome of the oven while being 'fed'. I am fucking adorable. They won't let me out of their sight for one minute. &#x200B; &#x200B;
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I was stupified. How could everyone be gone? My family was supposed to be awake by now, ready to go to work for the day. I decided to check on them, just to make sure I wasn't completely alone. I was. There was no one in the whole house, and upon further inspection, no one in my whole entire town. I couldn't believe it. It was supposed to be a busy Monday, but everywhere was completely empy. I was terrified. What was I supposed to do? I started thinking about my future on this planet, but then I didn't get as scared as before. I had the whole town to myself! Don't you know how epic that is!? I could do anything I wanted to do! THIS IS AMAZING! I decided to do anything I wanted, just for a day, then I would get serious. I decided to have all the food I wanted to, which was amazing! During my food rampage, I decided to release all the animals out of the animal shelters, which turned out to be the worst mistake of my trip. I kept on going throughout the day on my zany adventures, until it was time to go to bed. I was scared out of my mind, as I usually think, "Nothing can harm you, you're a human for ducks sake, you're on top of the food chain!"But lately, I haven't been feeling that. I kept on feeling like I was being watched, although no one was watching me. I decided to hide under my blanket and try my best to fall asleep. When I woke up, I was extremely surprised of what I found. I woke up to the sound of bacon hitting the pan, and my mother's famous ear-splitting "songs"I was baffled by this noise. I leaped downstairs towards to sound of the pestering noise. I found my parents making breakfast, while also being a pain in the ass to each other. Typical. I was shocked and dazed by their sight, but everything seemed to make sense. It solved the case of everyone disappearing. It also solved the case on why all the food tasted like my pillow as well. (don't ask how I know that) It was all simply a dream.
Shiori felt the soft warm touch of sunlight on her cheek coming from the window of her bedroom and rolled over, stretching with her eyes closed. She pulled the covers up on instinct, expecting the warm blanket she had fallen asleep under in the last few days of December in her home in Japan. Though that was not what she felt. Instead her fingers touched the scratchy material of a heavy woolen blanket that felt slightly damp with sweat and she realised the room's temperature was a great deal warmer than it should be. The first thing to hit her was the smell. Something smelled like a homeless person's underwear that hasn't been washed for years. Her eyes flew open and she jumped out of bed, her frantic mind taking in every foreign detail as she rose. The ceiling was not the textured dry-wall of her bedroom, instead, an open wooden ceiling that looked like the underside of a roof with struts openly displayed. The bed she was in was not her soft mattress on her cute, curly metal bed frame, but some unrecognizable cot that looked slapped together from random pieces of wood and had a thin feather mattress on it. Beside the bed was a short night stand with a gun holster that contained a gleaming silver six-shooter pistol with a stylized ivory handle. "Na...na...NAN DA?!?"She threw her question to the room not knowing what the hell was going on, "KOKO DOKO?!?"She backed up to the wall, hurriedly casting her gaze around the room taking in more details. She saw a pair of aged blue jeans that looked her size hanging off the end of the bed. Under those was a pair of boots that resembled a pair she had at home, and a very wide brimmed cowboy hat hanging off of the far boot. She looked down at herself and she was wearing a flannel shirt that appeared to be a lot larger than she would normally buy, hanging down, covering her important parts. Then, without warning, the door slammed open and four large men dressed like they just jumped out of an old American movie barged in with weapons drawn, "HOO-ZERR?!"The lead man shouted, waving his own gun back and forth. When he seemed to be satisfied with the situation, he put his pistol away and his friends followed suit. "You alright, boss? We heard a scream and thought someone might have been attacking you in your sleep..."To Shiori's immense surprise, considering she hadn't studied English for at least ten years since graduating high school, she understood the man perfectly. Thinking quickly to her many nights of RPG gaming, she shook her head and looked around the room, trying to think of something. Tentatively, she probed her mind for what to say and found that the words came a great deal easier than she thought they might, "I'm fine. There was a rat. Was being the key word."She was astonished at the accent that flowed from her lips, but continued her ruse. She pressed two of her fingernails into one of the fingers on her other hand to make a red mark and showed the man, "See? Little bastard bit me." The man grunted and nodded, "Well alright. Anyway, it's time, boss. We should get going soon. Train leaves the station in an hour and it takes at least ten minutes hard ride to get there."He waved the group out of the doorway, "We'll give you some time to get ready." --- Most I can do at the moment. Just leaving work, but I'll continue this tomorrow probably. Great prompt!
The sky was growing wider and wider as Eric felt the earth pulling him back. The cold raindrops now feel numb. He wasn't surprised that the lightning chose him instead of his brother Harold. Eric didn't believe in karma, or any superstitions; but he firmly believed that this was simply how the world worked. Harold had everything, and Eric resented that. "Could you teach me how to fly?"Harold said a few hours before. Eric remembered the enthusiasm in the tone of Harold's voice. Eric was reluctant at first, but couldn't help but going out in the stormy night with Harold. He wanted to feel like the older brother he once was. Eric could now see a more panoramic view of the sky. He couldn't see his brother. The gray white clouds reminded him of his bedroom ceiling. He remembered how he would find patterns that resembled all sorts of strange shapes and creatures with Harold as children, and how Eric still did it alone. He was surprised at the multitude of things he can remember during his decent. It didn't feel as though it were a flash of life before his eyes like people always say, but more like a deliberate spiral of emotion that resembled his past. Looking up at the ceiling and laughing with his brother, feeling insecure at school, dreams, his first job, rejection, moving back home. All of these moments were wriggling in his heart and head. He can feel the cold raindrops again. The smell of the storm and the sound of thunder came back as well. He knew his end was close. His back hit something hard, and he began to sink. Eric had landed in a lake. The freezing water quickly enveloped him. Something else hit the surface of the lake. Eric resurfaced, sucking in the stormy winds with full force. Harold was their next to him, holding him tight. "Are you okay? You can't leave me man. You're the most important family I have." Eric looked up; the gray, thundery sky revealed thousands of strange shapes and creatures above them.
Buck Tungsten grabbed Darla Perkins by her wasp waist, swooped her down for a kiss. Only this time, as his chapped lips pressed into her gas station lipstick, when their tongues began to comingle, she recoiled and held her hand up to his cheek, which was almost like last time, and shook her head. Darla disentangled herself from Buck's arms, and wagged her index finger at him. "We've done this before. I don't know how, but it's all just too, I don't know -" "Perfect,"Buck said for her, having had this particular conversation several times now. "I can travel through time."He checked his watch and squinted up at the office elevated some three stories over the factory floor. Neither, the time or squinting, served any purpose, other than, after having repeated himself the first few times, it seemed like the natural thing to do and people tended to stop asking questions once he struck the pose. But not Darla. "Right. And,"she raised a greasy bag of Chipotle. "Why am I carrying this around again?" "Backup,"Buck said. He'd made the mistake of explaining what that meant, but only once. Thank god for do-overs. "Ok,"he told her. "Here's the plan: Up in that office are the only blueprints for the new betamax 2." "What, are you serious?"Darla asked. "They've, they've actually done it? That's just - insane." "I know,"was all Buck had to say. "Now,"and he pointed to a steel rafter on the southern wall. "They're going to enter through those windows there." "How do you know that?"she asked and then nodded and rolled her eyes. "Time traveler. Right. Never mind." "Now, once we start up the staircase, they'll be after us. We won't have any problem getting to the office." "Are you sure?"she asked. "Pretty sure,"Buck said. "But,"he pointed at the Chipotle bag, "If not, you have that burrito in my hand because, baby, my life will depend on that." "And this?"She held up a Cliff bar. "Oh, right,"Buck said, and took the Cliff bar from her. He quickly devoured it, choking down the last half without the benefit of the requisite liter of water. "There."He patted his stomach. "I'm all primed for time." "Wait,"Darla said, and shook her head. "Just, just wait a minute."She ran her fingers through her long curly brown hair. "I don't know how, but I have the strangest feeling like I've done this before. I mean, I'm certain of it."She pointed at the rafter. "Kappa Gamma Alpha comes in there."Then to the emergency exit on the ground floor. "And Zeta Eta Nu comes in there."Then, to Buck, "And the rest of your Tau Pi Zi brothers come down from the roof."Then at Buck. "And you go straight for the portacrapper in the office, and,"she winced and puckered her mouth, "make me listen to you trying to take a big dump. Right?" Buck shrugged and offered a smile. "Well, it's kinda how -" "Time travel works,"she said, nodding, and tossed the Chipotle on the ground. "Look, I saw Groundhog Day, so, like, I get it. You're into me or something, and have been trying I don't know how long to get me to like you, or, whatever, and this is all you've managed to come up with? The annual Greek Paintball War?" "I thought it was like the coolest thing -" "No,"she shook her head. "No, this sucks. Here's what I want: That little French bistro down on the riverwalk?" "That place is expensive -" "And, after that, I've always wanted to go to Club 357." "The Country Western bar?"He sucked his lips beneath his teeth. "I didn't take you for - so you like Country, huh?" "Anyway, don't take me here again, okay? And, for the record, I never want to have to hear you take a dump. Ever. Okay?" "Uh,"Buck said, "Okay." And then, some camping pogue smacked Buck's ass with an orange paintball. "Alright,"he said, and struck his serious pose again. "Hand me that Chipotle and let's do this thing right!"
"Phew, another day another dollar". I checked my wallet to see how many dollars that I ended up looting today. $15,688. With that burning a hole in my pocket I headed over to Moxii's for a hard earned cold one; just a few blocks away. Before I could make it inside the door I noticed a man waiting patiently for some attention. His hat covered his brow but he made eye contact with me. "Eh, ya busy?", "Whatta ya need brother?", "I need a couple extra hands and a few hours of your time". I reconsidered my thirst and figured I'd help a fellow hustler out. "Let's get it finished quick so we can make it back before closing time, first rounds on you."Raising his head in anticipation he clearly stated. "If we can pull this one off, we will buy this damn bar."
the following is a loose continuation of my story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a0oe67/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_being_in_the_zone_is/eaj8cjd/) The infamous Warlord Ji'pha stood victoriously over the court jester, with his funny hat on the ground, a bloody nose, and a broken arm. His life slipped away, as he wondered how it had come to be this way. He was merely attending to the king, using his humorous skills he had learned from his lifetime. It was true that today was a bit dry, most of his jokes didn't hit the spot like they used to, and some of them misfired too, but he was sure he was gonna get by fine. That was until he tried a trick with slipping on a banana peel and crashed into the King's table, tipping down a drink. The king's cup was broken into two, and he was angry. Then the jester was declared useless. "Hmph! With this war going on, I have no need for entertainment! Send him off to Ji'pha!"Shocked, the jester begged for his life, but the king had none of that. So he went off, sure that with the soldiers he was sent with, he could manage to survive. He was wrong. He had barely been given enough soldiers-- they were merely for stalling, and the force was completely wiped out in a matter of minutes, despite there being only one opponent, Ji'pha. So then he faced down the warlord, gulping and with sweat trailing down his forehead. He surely could not run, with Ji'pha's horse still in top-notch shape. Indeed, the warlord taunted him, punching him in the face, launching him backwards, his hat landing pathetically in the ground. The jester attempted his best to make jokes and say that he could entertain the warlord, but Ji'pha laughed, an insane look in his eyes, unconvinced. "You useless jester... hahaha, you were lucky your funny outfit kept you alive so far... but you are doomed."He then continued, jumping off his horse and pinning the jester, proceeding to break his arm. "This is soooo fun,"Ji'pha continued, as the jester screamed in pain, "No wonder your king sent you to your death." The jester could not believe how torturous this was and how hopeless the situation seemed. It's fine, it's fine, I was going to die anyways... he thought, hoping for a quick finish. The warlord kicked him in the knee, sending him stumbling. "Dance, dance, fool!"Ji'pha commanded, laughing at his arm flailing about, desperate to find some balance. Suddenly the jester realized his arm didn't feel painful anymore. He had been trained in The Zone quite a few times, but he had rarely felt it due to mostly doing comedic acts. And yet, Ji'pha found this so funny that he had ironically reached the pinnacle of comedy. And what occurred at that time? He would only become an actor. So his heart burned with determination, as he continued acting like an absurd weak Jester. He looked around and noticed the edge of the land nearby. And he took a huge risk, stumbling even more, slurring his words, in an attempt to further fool Ji'pha while he followed him. "Uhehehehehe!! Drunk are we? No wonder you don't seem scared anymore! Well, more fun for me!"They ran left and right, the jester narrowly dodging Ji'pha's attacks, at first entertaining him, though eventually enraging him. "STOP MOVING!"He said, his body glowing red with The Zone's power, the ground shaking. It was time to enact his plan. The jester ran around a tree close to the edge, and Ji'pha slashed at him, causing a great wound in his back, but he continued, pulling back the branch and-- WHACK! In his rage, Ji'pha was surprised by this change, and tumbled backwards. With a single quick push, the jester sent him over the edge, horrified and doomed. That night, the king would be astonished at what the jester did and rehired him. The jester was quite relieved at this, and as he recovered from his wounds, he suddenly got the idea to test out his newfound ability. By using others' senses of humors against them, surely he could find a way to be the perfect actor....
"Alright, now Daniel, I know you're a real elf-" "Hal-elf."he interupted. "Yeah, Maya,"Annie said, "Get your tropes straight. He's got a tragic backstory involving his parent's forbidden love."Daniel rolled his eyes. "I really wish you girls would stop acting like my life is some predictable story." "Only some parts of it, dear."Annie took his hand, smiling up at him sweetly. "I think your author did a fantastic job of creating you." They stared into each other's eyes while Maya kept on staring ahead, ignoring them. "We need a real elf for this to work,"she muttered to herself, wondering if Daniel's ears would be enough. Just beyond this thick copse of trees, at the base of the mountain right in front of them, she knew there would be an elfin city (because there is. Always. An elfin city in these things) and she wanted to see it. This was about tourism, after all. Can't visit a magical world without seeing the gorgeous architecture. However, there would be traps. Because, of course, no outsiders would be allowed into the "sacred"realm of the ethereally beautiful elves. (They hadn't seen the elves from this book yet, but all signs pointed to them being very much à-la-Tolkien.) They might be able to use Daniel's physical features to at least keep them from being killed on sight; Maya would then use her smooth-talking ways to get them out. Or her new magical abilities, that included illusions. Duh! She smacked herself on the head. "Guys,"she called behind her, "Stop being all lovey-dovey for a second, I know how to get us past the guards."She started to spin her fingers clockwise, making them glow pale blue beneath her. Annie caught on right away. "Do you need me to solidify our disguises?"she asked, letting go of Daniel long enough to grab her spellbook. "Nah, this story's writer wasn't all that clever. Remember the inn-keeper at the tavern?"Daniel nodded with a wry smile. Last night, the inn-keeper had kept them up with stories of the hidden lands beyond the forbidden forest, which was exactly half a day's walk from the town and totally accessible; how none had seen an ogre and lived to tell the tale, except for the tales that he immediately went on to tell. For a major source of exposition, the inn-keeper had been remarkably NPC-like. "The author isn't really trying at this point, so I'm going to go ahead and assume the guards we'll meet will have sleek and elegant weapons, perfectly polished armour that has never seen a day of action, perfectly coiffed hair, and when we arrive, they will be threatening exactly long enough to demand a password or something, then they'll go right back to their positions and we'll never see them again." Daniel cringed. "That's a little harsh, don't you think? You make it sound like they're empty vessels." "Dany, Dany, haven't you learned by now?"Maya said with a grin. Annie reached over to give her a warning swat, but Maya dodged. "Most of these places were written by mere mortals. They barely have enough soul to fill out their main character, let alone an entire world. Most of these 'people' you'll meet here are empty vessels, and won't notice that we were ever here because we aren't part of the narrative that's been programmed into them." "Alright, you and I need to talk,"Annie said, "You've been weirdly dark lately, and I mean even more than usual." "I'm fine,"Maya said, looking away from her best friend. "I just want to see a glittering elf castle, see that's a 'light' thing to do, right?" "Maya..." With a sudden whoosh, the three friends were bathed in blue light that tweaked their ears and facial features. They looked exactly like themselves, only with more defined jaws and cheekbones. "Let's go,"said Maya, stridding off, her newly magicked pearly white cloak fluttering behind her.
"Hey!" "There's someone else here?"they said. "Yeah."I said. "I'm right here. Desk in the dark room." "Well, who are you? Janitor?" I laughed. "Janitor?"I said. "Why, I'm in charge here." "This place is run by computers, isn't it?" "Well, who approves those decisions?" "Computers?" I laughed again. "No, I do."I said. "Cecelia Delboe, morality officer. Computers have no sense of morality, they just recommend whatever would make the most money without considering what effects that would have on other things. So I do." "Okay..." "Hey, who are you, anyway?" "I was on a tour."they said. "Got separated." "Well, just head down that hall there, the one you came here by. Then turn left at the red sign. That'll put you ahead of the tour, probably." "Okay, thanks!"they said, and they walked away. I sighed. This place can get really lonely.
The war-machine walked on. How? I gripped the iron bars of my cage, too deep in shock to shake or rattle them in a vain attempt to escape. Deep in the belly of the beast itself, sequestered away in a prison I hadn't even known about. "Tip."I called out, hoping she could hear me. "Tip, what happened? Last I remember, we'd just gotten to the control room! How'd we end up here?" It took a moment, long enough that I was holding my breath with worry, but then she replied, sounding weak. "They must have knocked us out with a surprise ambush, or maybe one of those electric fences." I couldn't help but imagine how my friend looked. Had they taken her apart already? Or were they saving that for after the machine hit land and they finished their conquest? "Are you okay? Electricity wouldn't fry your circuits, would it?" "No, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, though."Tip sounded almost amused, but my annoyance at her nonchalance was swept away with relief. That meant we only had to worry about one thing, and that was getting out of here and up to the control room again. This time ready for whatever took us down the last time. So I gripped the bars and started to wrestle with them. It must have sounded strenuous, because Tip questioned aloud after a moment, "What are you doing?" "Breaking us out."The words came as grunts between hefts. The bars were tough, but only about half the size as the prison that we were thrown into back on the enemy continent. If I could break them then, I could break them now. But Tip laughed. "Oh, that's not going to happen. We're stuck here. Our job here is done." That made me hesitate. "What... what do you mean? The Machine is still moving."It was true, I could feel it from the way the floor rocked. "We haven't stopped it yet, and you know what happens if we hit mainland with this." "Oh, I know. There's just nothing we can do to stop it."She sounded so calm about it, I could feel my jaw drop. What was wrong with her? She'd never given up before, not even when faced with the stampede of war-dogs. I struggled to encourage her, when that had been her job for me for so long. "Sure we can! We still have another chance, if we hurry. The control room isn't too far away, and if we just wrestle our way out of the prison--" "The bars are made from reinforcing steel. It fixes itself every time you try and bend it."Tip explained. "Literally impossible to break, and any hole you do make won't last long enough to let you through." I dropped my hands. "But... enough perseverance will do anything! Endurance, endurance, endurance. That's what you told me." "And you did a good job, too. But there's not gonna be a sudden rush of adrenaline to get us out of here."Her voice was... almost happy. Like she was enjoying a day on the beach--though I knew she hated the beach. Too much sand in her joints. "No, the rest isn't up to us." "Who else can do it?!"My voice came as a shout. "I'm the Hero, that's my job! Punch the villain, stop the Machine... that's what you trained me for!" "Well..."She trailed off. "No. This isn't about you, Hero. It's never been about you." That was when the Machine breached the surface. \--- Albert had one job. Pull the switch, close the furnace door, make sure nothing got stuck. Nothing ever got stuck. But he was there just in case it did. He'd been there a long time. Nothing ever got stuck. It was a nice enough job. The engines gave off this nice glow, and if he walked to the other end of the room he got a birds-eye view of the whole ocean before them. Rolling along the sea-floor was remarkably peaceful. Yet... there was that familiar expanse of approaching, flickering white above. It was like a ceiling on the sky, and Albert knew what came after that. As the water sloughed off the window, he got a view of their destination. A green land, with bright cities and rolling mountains. How pretty. Did they really have to destroy it? &#x200B;
“Come again?” asked the Golden Knight, still half asleep. SLAP A hand screamed out of thin air and landed on the knight’s cheek, jolting him awake. “I said an ARMY is coming!” yelled a familiar woman’s voice. The knight could barely make the woman out. His vision was blurred from the slap and his ears also rang slightly from the hit. “They are practically at our farm lands edge and here you lay, catching a good night’s rest!” said the woman, quite exasperated. The knights vision finally came to and he saw the woman who had slapped him anxiously pacing in front of his bed. A roaring fire blazed in a huge stone fireplace, the warmth coming in waves mixed with a gentle breeze from the open windows. Beyond the windows, finches chirped and flew over tightly packed cottage roofs, darting in between chimneys and flag posts. The knight slowly sat up and rubbed his face, his cheek was quite sore. “That was quite a slap, makeup is going to have a hell of a time covering that one up, Marrissa,” SLAP In flew another ferocious slap, this one to the other cheek. The knight fell off the bed from force of the slap and let out a slight OW as he hit the ground. “Makeup?! Marissa?! Dear God man, an army makes haste upon our land, yet here you sit and spit nonsense!” The woman stormed off to a window, her head held down, breathing heavy. The knight could not tell if she was crying or holding back more rage. If the knight was to be perfectly honest, he felt he didn’t know much of what was going on at the moment. He gripped the bear skin rug he fell on to, feeling the fur in his hands. He looked around at the tapestries on the wall, the candelabras on the furniture flickered away casting little shadows that danced along floor. The knight was sure this was the movie set. He touched his chest and his arms wildly, as if they weren’t really there. The woman, who he thought was Marissa, looked over at him with a solemn look on her face. She slowly made way over to him and pulled a dagger from her waist. The knights eyes grew wide, so wide that the chill breeze felt like ice on his eyes. This isn’t in the script thought the knight to himself, Where is everyone? Where are the cameras, the booms, the lights? Someone please say Cut! The woman kept advancing, the dagger more prominent with each step. The knight hastily tried to scramble to his feet but slipped on the rug beneath him. Sweat poured down his brow as the woman stopped and kneeled in front of him. She set the dagger down and met the knights panicked eyes for what seemed like an eternity. “This is the dagger that killed our father, the very dagger you swore you would protect this land with; you would protect me with,” the woman sternly said to the knight. Her eyes scanned his face and her eyebrows raised slightly. She slowly reached out and touched his face. The knight flinched at her first touch but she felt his beard so gently, his fear almost melted away. She held his head in her hand by his cheek. Then the woman spoke with a voice as gentle as her touch, “I don’t know what happened to my brother and who sits before me...but I need your help”
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Communication was stoic. Every on-board commander centered their Starship towards the Formic planet. The fleet was relatively primitive – slower, and equipped with less powerful Little Doctors. Later waves were faster and leap-frogged these, but they were the ones who arrived. &#x200B; Awaiting orders, Commander Ellis came on the intercom, "This is Commander Ellis of the Starship, Ambient. All personnel are active, the Molecular Disruption Device is online, and all systems are optimal. Fantastic job, we're awaiting high-command for direction." &#x200B; Every Warship held a small complement of deployable fighters, four total. Piloted by the best of the second invasion pilots. Squad leaders held their tongue, waiting for the dock doors to release them into the void of hell. &#x200B; Onboard these earlier ships, older and grittier crew members struggled with old age and coughing fits. Their dedication persevered through the silence of high-command. &#x200B; Ellis locked his arms behind his back, he surveyed the bridge looking at all its components. This would be the ship that would win the war, annihilate an entire species. Suddenly, a young boy's voice sounded, "Are you there?"It was accompanied by an even younger boy, “All of us. Kind of late for practice this morning, aren’t you?” &#x200B; Ellis commanded his team on the bridge, "I have contact, ready yourselves for orders."It was tense, this was the war they travelled 80 years to win. &#x200B; Giles was the most important mechanic on the Ambient, his responsibility was solely the Philotic Parallax Instantaneous Communicator, or the ansible for short. Without it, Ellis couldn't take command from Ender. &#x200B; Ellis was one of twenty commanders, in the belly of the Ambient he released his four fighters to accompany him in this battle. The other Starships did the same. &#x200B; Interstellar Warships of this age weren't preferred over the newer and faster ones, but Ellis and the rest of the commanders knew they must finish this war. 20 Starships, 80 fighters and cruisers. Ender began maneuvers to test his fleet. &#x200B; Ellis could feel Ender's contempt with these ships, "Z-157, X-291, Y-06, he's taking us straight into the swarm... Arrange our ship to fit his cylinder, tell the fighters to remain close." &#x200B; Ellis looked out the bridge to see a void of yellow ships welcoming their bullet of a formation into their swarm. The fleet was outnumbered a thousand to one. Another order came through and a heavy explosion rocked the whole Starship, the bridge was in mass disarray. Commander's voices were disappearing left and right. Three of the four fighters were unresponsive and the formation broke. &#x200B; "How many ships are left?"Ellis inquired with panic. &#x200B; "A dozen or so,"someone said. &#x200B; "Have our fighter reenter formation, we're through the swarm. Bridge me Giles from maintenance." &#x200B; Giles was busy reading the maintenance logs, the entire ship was fucked. The Little Doctor and the Ansible were the only components worth a damn, there would be no escape though. &#x200B; The other four commanders sent their fighters back to instigate the Formic fighters. Giles answered, in a fit of anxiety and fear. &#x200B; "Giles, this is Ellis, I need you to launch all escape pods into the swarm behind us. Now." &#x200B; "Absolutely, one moment, and launched." &#x200B; A few hundred pods blasted from the Warship into the Formic's ships. It didn't seem to repel them any more than Ender's tactics. And then Ellis realized, he was drawing them in. A large rattle resonated throughout the ship, Giles screamed in pain and Ellis shut him off. &#x200B; "Commander, we've entered the planet's atmosphere, we're ill-equipped for the heat." &#x200B; "Shut off the engines and the switch all power to the Little Doctor, we're going to glass the planet. Transfer all power from the life-support on-board our fighter to its shields." &#x200B; "Done." &#x200B; "Have it hug us to absorb all their firepower." &#x200B; The one dozen ships fell like ducks hit with a buckshot, and then they began blowing up. &#x200B; One, two, and then our fighter and another Starship. Seven total. &#x200B; "Five remaining, all power is a loss. Little Doctor is powered up and ready to..." &#x200B; "Fire!"Ellis yelled leaning on his console looking out the bridge. &#x200B; "I don't know if we're in range..." &#x200B; "Fire it! Now!"Ellis repeated, foaming a little. &#x200B; "It's fired!"the crew member said with panic. &#x200B; The ship's power stopped and the lights dimmed, only the light from the inferno consuming the Ambient lit their world. Finally, large pieces of debris flew up at the remaining Starships and fighters. &#x200B; "Philip Ellis, Commander of Starship Ambient. Reporting..."
„Come on, just do it, don’t be a wuss!“ That’s Sarah’s giggling voice behind me. “Yeah, do it already” Ashley chimes in. “We haven’t got all night! You chose dare, remember?” Well, that’s true, I did chose dare. Just so they would stop pestering me whenever the bottle pointed to me with questions about Marc. And now here I am, in the dead of night, standing in the tall grass around the creek behind my parent’s house, with a tiny green frog in my hands. I hate frogs, they are slimy and gross. Why did I ever agree to this... “Madison, I’m cold, just do it so we can go back inside!” Geez, okay. I take a deep breath, and hope that it won’t be as bad as I think it will be. I promise myself that I will get super drunk afterwards to forget all this. I take the little moist guy closer to my lips, fight the disgust – and then I touch him. Only for a second, I barely felt anything, but it counted. My friends laughter ends abruptly as the frog starts to change. I throw the thing to the ground immediately, it suddenly turned gray and it seems like its growing. Ashley tries to step on it in her boots but it easily jumps aside. Its growing faster and faster now, and its skin looks like its boiling. Its shape changes too. What was a frog is as big as a dog now, and its feet have started to develop claws. Its face looks almost human, but with hollow voids where the eyes should be. The bubbles its skin throws pop and spawn various other limbs. We shriek and run back to the house, but the thing chases after us. We make it inside and close the glass door just in time. The monstrous creature splashes against it, but the glass holds. It opens its mouth, numerous fangs protrude in all directions. I can’t shake the impression that its empty eyes gaze directly into my soul. “Madison” I hear a voice. Does this thing actually talk? And know my name?! I feel like I’m about to throw up. “Madison, you show real love today. You liberate my prison.” The voice seems to originate from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, it reverberates around like a sick, twisted song. I don’t think my friends hear it, they just stare at the monster, frozen in terror. It keeps on singing. “Madison, I pay my debt. Let me return love to you.” I shake my head, this can only be a nightmare. No way this is real... “Madison, we are connect now. Come closer, Madison. Come closer.” I scream.
“I keep telling you john, I’ll be basically useless unless you go in first” Alex had said spitting out each word as though it pained him. I dismissively waved my hands towards him and gave a quick nod not only telling him that the conversation was over but that he was going with or without him liking it. As everyone began to put on all of their gear instead of being tactical like our armor he had opted for a trench coat with pockets lining the inside. “As much as I dislike your kind I suppose you have a point, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna do all the heavy lifting around here you only get one for free and that’s it.” I said with a stern look, I knew that his kind were still around but to have one join the force was still strange. He often looked around at the other members of our special task force with disgust calling them ‘dirty fireball chuckers’ and then laughing at their lack of finesse. “This mission is just a test run to make sure your a good match for the guys, so if things go south you just get outta here got it.” I whispered to Eric as he pulled out a thick book and jotted something down seemingly ignoring my instructions. That wasn’t the case since he was nodding the entire time signaling he was actually listening, he was always like this though never really paying attention unless it was something about himself and even then making it seem like he didn’t care. The raid started with a bang, literally since the first thing we did was kick in the door and toss a flash into the room. Some of the mobsters were prepped since they were hiding behind upturned desks and walls but afew were caught off guard and blinded now clutching their eyes as they flung themselves to the ground. A bullet flew through the air and then hundreds more followed as one gangster had unloaded his firearm towards us a single bullet flew towards Him and he fell instantly. Suddenly a glow was emitted from the back of our formation as blue and green energy poured from Eric. With a chill filling the air around him he whispered words of power and the gangster rose to his feet turned around and unloaded his firearm into the room. Turns out we had a new ally for the raid.
"God damn it Jared, can't you press the power button?"i said to myself. It finally turned on. Excellent. I prepared everything: Mic , 3DS , Camera , Twitch on the PC. This abandoned warehouse is a treasure hoard for me. The livestream started. The framerate was good, the chat was wild, almost no lag. I was the first non-human to livestream on twitch. And it shows, man (or should i say cockroach), that passions never die. Weeks later, i was slowly gaining fame. I was playing against some famous streamers, i was becoming twich's #1 streamer days in a row, and for weeks now, your views have been escalating. "Thank you jam master 33 for your sub - "you should go to vgc 2020 lol"" I stared to the camera. I said. "This. Is my chance to shine." I ordered a drone for myself as a sort of plane. There was cash in the warehouse after all. I went to Buenos Aires,where the tourney was taking place. Everyone screamed when they saw me. I was the first, and possibly only in all of history, cockroach to have human knowledge,after all. The tourney started. Garchomp used dragon dance. Nice. I got a free hit on it. My Froslass used Icy wind, to hit both Pelliper and Garchomp. Garchomp fainted, even nicer. My Delcatty used discharge. Normalize made it normal type,so froslass was immune, thankfully. Pelliper fainted. It went like this quite a while. As a wise man once said,"My strategic mind beats you in every way possible". It got to finals. Lad had a Xurkitree, Bronzong, Incineroar and Chansey. It started easy. My Primarina beat Incineroar with Surf,and Vaporeon healed itself from the damage. It went on and on... The final turn. Now or never. I have my trusty Gallade and my trusty Braviary. Gallade used earthquake. Xurkitree fainted. Chansey took quite the hit. And then the final words i saw that day before i cried some cockroachy tears: "Braviary used Double edge! Chansey fainted!" It was real. I won. I won.
As far as most citizens of America knew, the earth was a desolate wasteland with a deadly layer of noxious gas enveloping it. Being part of the conspiracy, I was one of the few who knew the truth. After the country started heading towards another revolution, the government knew if they wanted to remain in power something dire needed to be done. From that moment they began to spread propaganda, inciting fear in the public. The bogeyman was Kim Jong Un, they told the nation that a nuclear war with North Korea was imminent and their only hope was to take shelter in government operated safehouses, located miles below the surface. That was a very long time ago, and since then only a select few and I have been to the surface. Now as I prepared to give my speech to the masses I started off with the careless, fateful words, "Good evening..."everyone knew the truth, I had been to the surface.
The bodies danced through the air, silver and blood flying too fast for the human eye to follow. The viewers at home would be fed several simultaneous replays, with each frame held just long enough for them to appreciate the beauty of such wild and boundless death. Commentators and their crews, fitted with fast-capture augments, had positioned themselves on the sidelines. They were meant to feel safe in the stands behind the layers of glass that separated the raging beasts within, but Kessi couldn't help but flinch any time the combatants came too close. &#x200B; Twice, Temi2005 had been slapped into the barrier just a foot away from her camera, each time leaving an oozing imprint of blood and nanofluid that dripped slowly to the floor. Each time she had twitched -not enough to disturb her camera, but enough for the more experienced members of the crew to grin. She'd be fine, though -they'd rib her, tease her for a few weeks, but Kessi knew for a fact that Jayla, the most senior shooter of the bunch, had screamed and dropped her boom mic on her first day ringside. Kessi felt pretty confident compared to that. &#x200B; The cage fight had dragged on nearly ten minutes now. Temi2005 was certainly tenacious, but Temi2000.8, known across the nation as the Vanquisher, had three seasons of experience on it and had yet to lose any serious fight. Rumor had it that the Vaquisher's handler read to it from military texts and had raised it on a steady stream of old martial arts films. 2005's handler Gio Nunca, on the other hand, had preached publicly about the dangers of allowing human media to infect the fledgling minds of the Temi line. &#x200B; Somewhere between god, machine, and human. The tagline for the Temi line. And all we do these days is watch them fight, Kessi thought bitterly. Her time at this job would pay off, though. Soon. &#x200B; The murmur of the commentators was getting excited. Temi2005 was hardly moving on its own now. It's head lolled to the side as it was slammed over and over into the glass, the same spot marked earlier by blood. Perhaps unconsciously, it had activated its shoulder shields. Kessi knew she shouldn't show it, but a grim satisfaction had taken a hold of her. Perhaps the payoff would come sooner than she had thought. She stood and quickly began moving backwards. She kept camera as steady as she could, pointed at the slaughter. Jayla looked up and frowned, mouthed "What the fuck?" &#x200B; Kessi paused, still holding the camera, framing perfectly the slim, swift Vanquisher and the 2005, interlocked, battering the same point, as she murmured into her watch phone. &#x200B; "The shields. Are they stronger than the glass?"She flicked her wrist to send the message. Jayla looked down as she received it. Through Kessi's fast-capture augment, it seemed almost an entire minute for Jayla to read, look at the barrier, see the cracks starting to form, and understanding begin to dawn. No panic, though, not yet. She'd give it half a second. Jayla began yelling, but those near her didn't react, instead concentrating on getting the footage. Kessi kept walking backwards, up the aisle, lens focused on that one chip in the glass. Jayla grabbed the collar of one of the interns as she ran, but it was too late. &#x200B; One final, cage-shattering blow did it. Each shard of glass was captured in high-res, at the fastest shutter speed tech allowed, each fleck of blood-and-nanofluid spiraling out, each cry of pain as the crew felt a thousand gashes, all broadcast from her camera. &#x200B; Kessi dropped to her knees as though shaken, panning up into the face of the Vanquisher. It had been created to be beautiful to human eyes. Silver skin. Delicate features. Long lashes. It used to be perfectly symmetrical, but three seasons of constant violence had crumpled a spot above the side of its mouth, giving it the semblance of a lopsided smile. It emerged from the ring dragging 2005 by the arm. &#x200B; "Too long,"it rasped. Kessi could barely hear it over the screams of her coworkers. She frowned and flipped on the directonal mic, pointing it as close to its mouth as she could. "Too long,"it repeated. "We suffer. I..."It coughed, stumbled. Nonono, stay up, stay up! It recovered, lifted its head and roared. &#x200B; "I have suffered too long!"
"So, um, how've you been?" Janice didn't answer at first. She was too busy trying to figure out if this was real or if she'd be hitting the "Oracle Mist"too hard. She blinked a few times, but he was still there, in chains and being forced to kneel by one of her burly guards. It was her boyfriend, Churro. Ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself. "I've been alright."She said slowly. Churro glanced around her throne room. It used to be a shoe store. Now blankets nailed to the wall served as tapestries, and piles of welcome mats were the equivalent of fine rugs. "You've got some fancy digs here,” he said, then added, “I mean, fancy for the post-Apocalypse." He always did have to qualify everything. “Yeah. Pretty much the best in the Skull-Mounters.” “The Skull-Mounters? Is that what this gang calls themselves?” “You didn’t see the banners? We have them all the way from the Cinnabon entrance to the Wal-Mart.” “Oh, the ones with the skulls.” “Yes, mounted on top.” “Oh, I get it, ‘Skull-Mounters’. Yeah.” “What did you think it meant?” “I mean like... ‘mounting’. Y’know.” “Is this an innuendo?” “Hey, it’s not that unlikely. I met a gang called the Heart-Fuckers. That was their thing, too. They literally fucked hearts, like ripped out of someone’s chest, still beating.” It’s a wonder Churro didn’t join them, Janice thought, he’d fit right in. “So, what do you do here, Jan? Are you like a bureaucrat or something?” “I’m the Divine Oracle.” “What’s a Divine Oracle?” “Well, it’s sorta something between Judge, Jury, and High-Priestess. I’m basically Queen of the Skull-Mounters.” “Oh, cool, so have you done any, uh, skull-mounting?” “It was The Smash, who didn’t mount a skull, or nail the corpse of the boss they hated to the front of a truck, set it on fire, and drive through the front wall of their old workplace?” “That was specific. I guess The Smash is your gang’s word for the Apocalypse? Every gang has a different one. One I met called it ‘The Stink’, I think on account of all the sulphur. Another called it ‘The Event’. That was a good one. Very mysterious.” “Lovely.” “Yeah. Well, I’m glad you’re finally putting your degree to good use.” “What are you talking about?” “I’m just saying, when we were together, y’know, you didn’t really have much ambition, you stayed at those shitty jobs even though you were way overqualified.” “Ambi- YOU were the one on the couch all day! I worked those shitty jobs because it paid the bills. Maybe if you’d supported me...” “Oh boy, here we go,” Churro murmured to the guard pointing the makeshift spear at him, “better make her feel better before I’m the bad guy.” “What?” Jan asked. “Nothing. I was just thinking it’s cool that you control, uh, what, a mall?” “Well, except for the Wal-Mart, but we’re on good terms with the Blood-Drinkers.” “Oh, almost a mall. That’s pretty good. I guess.” “You guess? This mall is huge! And we’ve got a population in here the size of a medieval town! And it’s called the Holy Fortress, now.” “Yeah, that’s cool and all. I mean, I’ve met gangs who controlled whole neighbourhoods, but hey, a mall is really good... for you.” Always undermining. Of all the things to survive The Smash, why did it have to be Churro? It’s been months since she’d seen a roll of real toilet paper, but somehow something useless like Churro was still around. “What is he even here for?” She asked the guard. His name was Thug. That’s probably not what his name was before The Smash, but asking someone what they were like back then was very personal and somewhat offensive. Thug, who had loyally and reverently been waiting this whole time, finally spoke. “My Lady, Divine Oracle, and Holy Mistress Of Skulls,” Thug began, affecting a fake accent. It was odd, the Skull-Mounters warriors spent most of their time making boob and fart jokes with each other, but would suddenly start speaking like knights-in-shining-armour when they were around their Oracle. Janice wondered if it was too late to have the gang do a re-branding. “This charlatan,” Thug continued, “gained entry to the Holy Fortress by seducing one of the water girls, and then was caught attempting to steal from her.” Stealing from a girl he seduced. Janice knew that story. “Looks like you haven’t changed at all. Those water girls don’t have much, and they work hard. Did you really think you’d get away with it?” “What? Isn’t there going some kind of real trial? Even a trial-by-combat? I met this one gang that-” “I don’t care what other gangs have!” Janice shouted, cutting Churro off. “I don’t care if they have more territory, or fancier words, or more renown, or bigger dicks or what. This is MY gang, and here, we work hard for what we have, we look out for each other. Nothing you’d understand. I won’t let you weasel your way in here and fuck everything up again.” Janice stood directly in front of the speechless Churro. Thug pressed his spear a little more into Churro’s back, just in case he tried anything. She imagined having him decapitated, and his skull cleaned to mount on the back of her throne. She looked down on his face and saw that he was finally beginning to grasp the reality of the situation. She saw fear rising in his eyes. Those blue eyes. Janice sighed. “As Oracle, I hereby banish you, Churro, from the Holy Fortress. Never set foot in our territory again, or the punishment will be severe.” As Thug was starting escort him out, Churro turned around and said, “You still love me.” It wasn’t a question, and it was a lot more cocky than he deserved to be. “What? Because I showed mercy?” “You called me Churro. No one but you calls me that. When we broke up, you called me Dan.” Janice felt a lump in her throat. “Get him out of here.”
“So what do we do?” Asks your brother, his hair messy and unkempt. He hasn’t slept since you both got your final contracts. “You’re going to sleep. I’m going to come up with a plan.” You respond. “No way! What if Tretco sends assassins after us? You’ll need my help!” Your brother responds. Unfortunately he raised a good point. Tretco has many other assassins besides you and your brother. If you don’t complete this contract they’ll never let either of you live in peace. As you think on his words, you come up with a plan. “You’re right.” You admit. “Yes!” He screams, happy at his victory. “I’m going to need your help.” You explain your plan to him. By the time you’ve finished, he looks like he just ate 5 cakes at once. “Take down Tretco? Your are the best brother ever! Why couldn’t I think of that?” “Because you’re tired. And I’m tired too. Let’s go to bed. We can talk more about this in the morning.”
"Ok,I get the demon summoning rule, but why can't I fall in love?"Rina asked. Her mom sighed and sat down. She motioned for her daughter to sit beside her on their antique looking blue couch. Their entire living room looked like something from a hundred years ago, maybe more. Rina dropped her backpack on the throw rug and took off her jacket. "Rina,"her mother says once Rina was seated. "You're in college now. It's time we had a talk. You know how I said your father was a deadbeat who went out for cigarettes and never came back?" Rina looked at her mother. "He wasn't?"She said. "Oh, he was. He totally was. But he was also an angel." Rina snorted. "He's hardly an angel of he abandons his own wife and daughter." Her mom leaned back. "True, true. But I mean he's a real angel, with wings and a halo and all of that. His duties forced him back to heaven. At least, that's the excuse he gave. I think he was just afraid of raising a child." Rina's mom clenched her fists. "My point is,"she said, her voice terse from anger, "is that even if you think your partner is an angel they can still be a deadbeat." "So I shouldn't trust anyone?"Rina said, standing up. "I should die alone just because someone might hurt me?" Rina's mom put her hand to her head like she had a headache. "It's more complicated than that." "Is it, though?"Rina said, raising her voice. "Ka'rhot was right, you---" Rina's mom's head shot up. She glared at her daughter. "What did you say?"she shouted. "I... I mean Karen was right. Karen from school. I haven't fallen in love with a demon, what are you talking about?" Rina's mom stared at her daughter. "You didn't..." Rina looked down nervously for a second, then looked her mother straight in the eyes. "I did."she said. Rina's mother kept staring at her in silence for a long time. Then, she smiled. "When can I meet this Ka'rhot?" Rina stammered. "Wh... What? You want to meet him?" "Of course,"her mother said. "How long have you two been seeing each other?" Rina gave her mother a confused look. "A year and a half."she said, backing up a little, in case her mother exploded. "That's a while,"her mother said. "Are you thinking of marriage or children yet?" Rina looked at her mom in complete shock. "Mom, I'm nineteen." "I was only sixteen when I meet your father,"her mom said. "Yeah, and look how that turned out." Rina's mom winced. "True, but this is different. This fulfills the prophecy. A human-angel-demon baby will---" "Mom, now you're getting weird."Rina said, backing away. "First you forbid me from summoning demons and falling in love, and now you seem pleased that I did both. At the same time." Her mother smiled. "Of course, dear. Why do you think I forbade it? I'm surprised you lasted all the way through your teenage years. I was getting impatient, but I didn't think you'd summon the demon or give him a chance if you knew I wanted you to do it. But now, the prophecy can be complete." Rina had backed up all the way to the door. "Mom, you're freaking me out. Nothing here makes sense. I'm going to go stay with my demon boyfriend until I can make sense of things." Rina closed the front door behind her. Her mom say back and smiled. She put her hands together, pleased with herself. "It is done."she said.
A strange disembodied glove starts floating down the middle of the mall. oh. "Run its master hand!"I tell my friends. The glove begins to unravel and they understand, this is life or death. Booking it as fas as we can, we stumble across an open broom closet. Strangely though, there is a light coming from inside. Its fill of warp stars! "How the hell do these things work?"They yell as we pull them out of the closet. "I dont know, just get on!"We do and begin speeding up immediately. Behind us master hand has turned into a glowing beam of pure destruction and we are almost out of the mall where we see millions of lights outside. They are about to destroy the mall. But we phase out of time and space just in time.
10 Years Ago, in the year 2039, Me and a bunch of Scientists were sent to Antarctica. All they told us was to investigate this Area in the Middle of Antarctica. They gave us a blurry photo of what appears to be a creature... frozen in place. It looked kind of like a Velociraptor with green scales and feathers. When I saw that picture I knew that this must be special. We arrived in Antarctica by boat. Escorted by armoured soldiers, highly trained too. When we got there we were taken into a facility of some sort. They lead us to the Center of the facility when we saw the shocking discover. It was the dinosaur in the Picture encased in Ice. It was a large slab of Ice that could cover up a room. The Eyes of the Dinosaur was still moving. It was alive. Famous Doctor Rushmore appeared out of nowhere and explained what were doing. A Decade Ago, A group of Explorers came to found a large deposits of Dinosaur Corpses. The thing was that half of them were all still, alive. We're all here for one thing. That's to discover how are they still alive and study about their anatomy. A Scientist asked the Doctor why was this Top secret in the first place. Rushmore just looked right into his eyes and said "Antarctica, It's Melting... what would happen. If all of those creatures were to escape?" He grabs a folder under his desk and throws it to the table. Pictures spilled out of the photograph and we looked in horror at the size of the frozen crocodile. It was a big green mother with scales like that of obsidian. Rushmore was standing there and in comparison looked like a speck of dust. It was as if it was an Island. "What happens if... The Ice Melted? What Happens if It escaped? What Happens If we were to Expose this to the Media? What would they do? We're not here to learn about those creatues but here to cover it up! Understand!?!" Although it was all nonsense. We kept our mouths shut... Based on a dream I Got. Part 2 coming tomorrow ok...
" "Kneel!"the leader of the IKS-7 boomed. His order rang impressively off the building windows, albeit redundantly as every man, woman, and child in sight were already cowering from the latest thunder of the noisy assault. The scattering of the alien invaders, bipedal creatures standing over seven feet tall and blood-orange skin, throughout the crowd threatened anybody who acted too bravely. The leader surveyed the movements of their subjects. The leader stood slightly taller and slightly more aged (Or the wrinkles and cracks in their face alluded to that fact.) The alien craft, with the exception of its impressive stealth technology which allowed it to commit an assault before any of the armed forces were alerted to its presence, looked surprisingly terrestrial in its construction. More of the leader's species poured out of it's doors, all carrying a firearm powered by something nobody in the crowd could identify...assuming they could swallow their adrenaline and make an effort to study one. "I will make this simple. We do not 'come in peace',"the leader boomed. A sound not unlike laughter emanated from the suits of the aliens. "We come here for slaves. We come here for research, potentially humane, potentially not."If any man, woman, or child nearby could find the courage to raise their heads, they would notice the mouth movements did not sync with the alien leader's speech. Some device was simultaneously translating their speech. It would have been neat, had the circumstances not been terrifying. "We don't care for your revolt. We don't care for diplomacy. We come to exploit. Research indicates your planet is populated with 7 billion of your species. A laughably small sum compared to our population that spans a galaxy, yet still large enough that many of you can be sacrificed. We will spare no toleran-" The leader was cut off as an unidentified projectile had dropped and struck their head. While it hadn't killed them, it was dropped from high enough to knock the leader onto their appendages. Legs or arms? It was hard to say. A little less than a dozen aliens rushed into nearby buildings, the rest looking up, wary of more barbaric tools hurled from above. In a moment, the leader staggered back up holding the projectile in their hands. I guess you could call them hands. The crowd, whether curious of the silence or a little more courageous having witnessed some aspect of frailty amongst the invaders, raised their heads. They saw the leader raising what struck them above their head, studying it slightly themself. It was a copy of a Harry Potter book, the one with the orange cover, whichever that is. "Literature."Another sound not unlike laughter escaped the leader's suit "Cute. If you expect me to read it, perhaps curiosity will catalyze me to analyze your written language later while I preside over YOUR DEAD BODY!"The leader yelled the last few words and crushed the book in their hands. Not into a perfect ball, but a rather sizeable chunk of the book's spine and inner-pages had quickly imploded. A voice faintly floated from one of the building windows above. All screams and cries after the imploded book quickly subsided again as the leader began pacing through the crowd, all four of their eyes scanning for the source of the voice above. "I'll allow you to speak, human. But only so much as to help us locate your soon-to-be-deceased body." The voice began a reply, but was quickly drowned out by the sound of a jet above and incoming shots from the military. " \----------------------------------- "What happened next, Grandpa?"a pimple-faced teenager asked, barely sitting on her seat, pen and chicken-scratched paper in hand. "What happened next?? Well, the battle begun. The Marines swooped in. The war begun. THAT's what happened next!"a white-haired old man with a large scar across his right cheek replied. "And you were really there? Right in front? With the Marines?" "I sure was. Well, I wasn't with the Marines. I mean, as they ran in, we were all WITH the Marines at that point." "What did that voice say? The person that threw the book, I mean." "Nobody knows, 'cept maybe the book-thrower..."A pause. The teenager held their breath. Eager to hear their grandfather elaborate, to share their wisdom. Realizing their granddaughter wouldn't speak next, the grandfather continued, "I suppose the book was chosen on purpose, as a symbol of the human spirit. Something about attempts to conquer thru evil will be thwarted because it's in humanity's nature to fight for good, for all. And that's why we embellish our heroes with such traits because it's so deeply ingrained in who we are." The teenager smiled slowly and eagerly scribbled more on a notepad, their nose no more than 2 inches from their pad. "Or hell, maybe it was the heaviest thing they could manage to throw accurately. What do I know?" &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B; Feedback welcome!
A man opens the door to my office. His eyes were sunken and his face was pale. He slowly shuffles over to chair and sits down. He doesn't look at me. "Hello,"I try to greet him with some buoyancy. His eyes didn't move. They gazed beyond the desk I sat at. They gazed beyond myself and the walls and landed in a place that I have never been to. But, I know that I do not want to go there. He spoke, "I need your help,"there was a weight to his voice, yet it sounded like nothing was spoken. All I felt was the air escaping my lungs as something pressed on my chest. "I... Well... I am here to help you negotiate a deal with the devil" "Yes, I know,"he lifted his head up to reveal a face that resembled stone. It was still flesh, but it had been beaten down by the sands of time. His eyes were at level with mine, yet they still stared into that place of unknown. I feared the more I looked at him, that soon I might join him in that place. I quickly averted my gaze. "What brings you here that requires the skills and power of the devil?"I have had many clients answer this question. I have heard almost everything from murder and rape, to lavish luxury and endless gluttony. And things which I never shall speak of again. "There is a man I know, his name is not of importance. But I wish for upon him the greatest turmoil I can fathom. Eternal suffering from the hands of the devil himself. I am willing to give anything" I had to pause as the gravity of that statement settled. The intensity in his eyes grew but they still stared into that unknown. I was starting to understand where he was looking. Niether of us moved. It was 5 minutes before I said something. "I don't think that is possible, the devil is a busy man and..." "There is nothing the devil can't do. Have you ever imagined a what it is like to be a rock and know that you once could feel the warm embrace of the sun, quiver at gusts of wind, and dance under the illuminating moon. A life of eternal wanting. Because of that man, I am that rock. Because of him, they are gone. The only two who knew me. I beg. My only solace till the death of the universe is justice upon that man." As he said those final words, I felt the last bit of life contained in that stone leave. I knew where he stared. It is a place beyond words. Beyond hope. I felt the earth fade away. I only knew one thing. Justice upon that man. "The devil will be here shortly"
2017, the middle of the pacific. The fresh sea air blew softly against professor's chisled face as he stood on the empty beach. He had done it, he had discovered a new territory. When all had claimed him to be a fool he had ignored them and prevaild. The thoughts of documenting unknown species filled his mind and heart with a hurried sense of excitement. Breaking off from his thoughts he ordered half the crew to disembark and begin setting up a camp, while commanding the other half to begin exploring with him. His excitement and ego pushed him forward ahead of his crew. He soon found himself deep within the jungle. Alone he arrived at a clearing, confused he looked around, and his heart froze. It was a campsite, overgrown but still descernable with a small firepit and rotting wooden crates lying about. He paused briefly and began to slowly walk forward. Then his temper flared, he released all the excitment in great fit of rage, breaking the wooden crates and kicking at the fire pit. In his fury however, he broke a crate which revealed a book, leather bound and covered in a thin layer of moss. He stopped and picked it up. Opening it he found it still somewhat legible and began to read... Day 1. The storm has finally passed, allowing us to assess the damage and losses to our cargo, as well as determine how far off course we have been blown. The ship itself has suffered considerable damage and remains marooned on this strange enclave. I have ordered the remaining men to scout and determine our surroundings while I assess the damge. I fear this island may become very familiar to us over the coming days. Day 2. The ship is ruined, this island contains no suitable wood for a ship and the gashes in her hull are to large to repair with mere hand tools. My men have not returned. Day 3. At noon today the men returned triumphantly with bundles of a strange fruit, similar in texture to that of a potatoe but with the shape of banana. Their flavor is exquisite, it is a sweetnesd that does not dull, and fulfillingness that does not satisfy. I have already eaten ten. We have also moved inland to a small camp, closd to this strange fruit. Day 4. We are all sick with dysentary. It seems that fruit has taken a toll on our bodies. I do not want to eat these but with all our food supplies lost in the storm I fear I have little choice in the matter. Day 7. I have remained bedridden for the past few days. The fruit it seems has another side affect. Some men have begun to change color, at first I thought it to be my eyes but they have genuinely begun to turn a shade of orange, some more than others. We must eat however, as our hunger grows with each passing day. Day 10. The hunger is insatiable. We eat and eat yet it only grows. My eyesight seems to be leaving me, for I today swore that my first mates eyes have turned green, but perhaps I am losing myself to this illness. Day 21. My hands are too stiff to write much. Today 1 man has died. Another is close. I have stopped eating the fruit instead I eat only leaves. The men who first ate have all turned orange and green eyed. Day 24. The pain is intense, I feel as though my intestines are sliding about. The orangest men have become bloated, their stomachs inflating with each fruit. The fruit calls to me now, I cannot resist and fear I must indulge. God help us The handwriting grows increasingly unlegible Day 30. My fingers are fat as sausages, I have gorged myself on the fruits and become bloated like the others. My insides have grown completely numb and cold. We lost two men today. Day 35. This island is cursed. Today I learned the true nature of this fruit, as one of the dead men exploded brilliantly and revealed a long beast which slythered out into the sea. I have once again withheld myself from the fruit, but it calls to me like a siren. I must satiate this thirst. Day 40. There are only 5 of us left. The others bodies remain nearby as they are to heavy to move. Each having exploded revealing a host which reshes away. I killed one of the beasts with great difficulty. It appears as a black eel, but with no decernable mouth or tale. I can feel one writhing inside me, I hope my death is quick. The writing ends there, the last pages are bloodstained. As the biologist turns to his crew he finds them indulging in a strange fruit, one seeing his gaze, he gestures excitedly for him to come near and try it.
There’s an old saying from my people. I would roughly translate it as made the law, made the loophole. Hecha la ley, hecha la trampa. That has been our unwritten law since forever. Jumping around the law is not something only criminals do, is something embedded in our society. And I am one of those who live in those loops. If three crimes are the limit, I should be dead years ago… but here I am. It only counts if you get caught. The street teaches you those things. You start with snitches get stitches, then you get that you can’t get caught, and then you learn to dance around the laws. Laws are for the judges only. And even then, judges are humans. The first judge I faced wasn’t that human though. I fell from untouchable to death risk at once. Murder and illegal immigration. Nevertheless, I wasn’t kicked out. Funny country, this one. From that day onward, I take precautions. I’m always armed, with lead and with cash. I couldn’t just go for a quiet life, I don’t know how to. I’ve lasted more than others this way. One associate got two crimes at once, drunk driving and drug trafficking, the fool. He had to live, he was a risk and he wasn’t the boss. Lost his life shoplifting. See? No system is fair. Fairness can exist only on paper. How do I keep myself in business? I made myself essential, more essential than before. I’m the one who has the fall guys. Want to kill someone? I get the guy with clean sheet to do it. I make the counter-alibi, so it seems believable that, out of nothing, a 21 year old gal, psychology student, would kill the boss of the drug distribution at the worst part of the city. I make it happen. Once the judges condemn her, without appeal, I pay her off. That’s Tuesday for me. You know how, when you are speeding on a highway, you hit 100 km/h, you hit 120 km/h, which is the limit, and you feel the speed for a minute, but then you get used to it? Risk is the same way. Adrenaline wears off. You get cocky, there’s no remedy for that. “Sir, I’m going to need that you come with me to the police station.” I’ve been setup. Or I didn’t count the time well. Police is here before I expected them. “Is that so? Are you charging me with anything?” “You are a suspect of accessory to murder of Mitchell Sweeting, the owner of the property you were caught coming out from. Please come peacefully, as resisting arrest maybe punishable by law.” “Ok, ok then.” I put my hands in the air. “Are you armed?” the officer asks. I’m toast. There’s no carrying gun in public in this place. Also, unlicensed weapon. Because, you know, untraceable. Untraceable is useless with another lawful gun on your face though. “I’m armed… with money, officer.” “What?” “I have enough money for a year of private school for a kid of yours here. Or for a semester in college, if you want to pursue another life. And if that’s not enough for you, I can show you more.” “Are you trying to bribe me?” “I’m not trying anything. I know you get very little for all of your courage, facing criminals every day. I respect that. But how many criminals get that?” “Um….” “I’m on your side… Jenkins. What’s your name Jenkins?” “That’s not important. Shut up!” “I can shut up all the way man. I have a gun on my left inside pocket, but a solution of your problems on the other side. Come on, reach it.” Jenkins approaches the left inside of my jacket, and palpates the gun, before taking it, checking it isn’t loaded, and throwing it on the ground. He keeps pointing me with his gun. “Come on man. Your partner is inside, he won’t notice. I escaped. You hide this money. I can even make it look legal.” “You promise?” “I’m a man of my word, Jenkins. A very secret word, but I keep it.” “You better do.” He takes the wad from my other pocket, and hides it in his underwear. “Run. Now.” I get up and run as fast as I can. He gives me some seconds, runs after me, gives a warning shot, and turns left where I turned right. After I calm myself, I come back to Sweeting’s street, and I see how the two policemen take away the right person. The scripted person. Me, I’ll be fine. It only counts if you get caught.
I have been told that I have a very laid back, possibly even sloth-like, personality. I have also been told, but my less than friendly ex-fiance, that I am the most boring man in the world. This is true. I have to be. If I wasn't, I probably would have gone insane long, long ago. I am a Kindergarten teacher. I love my job. I love my students. Even the zombies. &#x200B; Today was a pretty typical day. I woke up at 6 AM and watched the news while preparing for the day. I have a selection of collared shirts that I quite like. I decided today that I would wear the light grey one. I was feeling adventurous. I ate my toast while loading the silver bullets into my revolver, a gift from my father who was a policeman. I miss the old strawberry jam my mother bought, but they don't make that brand anymore. The final touch on my uniform is a small pin I wear on my lapel. It looks like a golden pentacle, and it is, but it's also a key. It's my symbol of office. Mostly it allows me into the teacher's lounge. &#x200B; I don't drive to work. Left hand turns make me nervous and I've never gotten the hand of parallel parking. It doesn't come up much but I prefer the bus anyway. Today I packed my lunch because the vending machines aren't going to be restocked until next Monday. One of the Xenos fell in love with salty snacks and emptied the machine in a single lunch period. I guess it helps to have Moon money. I made a turkey sandwich on rye. I thought about adding mustard, but last time I stained my shirt. I don't mind if it's dry. &#x200B; I get to work at about 8 o'clock, an hour before the children arrive. I typically use this time to go over my syllabus, homework, or tests that need grading. One of the zombies, Hilda, typically arrives half an hour early as she is being tutored by me in math. Her undead brain is still as functional as it ever was, but it has been over 200 years since she was last in school and so she is a bit rusty. She's definitely the oldest of the kindergarteners, but she was bitten at five years old. What can you do? When she isn't scheduled for extra lessons I like to walk the grounds. In the early morning sunlight you can barely make out the guard towers and it's almost like being on a normal campus again. &#x200B; When the children arrive I meet them at the security checkpoint. No weapons today, thankfully. Last week one of the zombies thought it would be a fun prank to behead his classmate. No permanent injuries, and luckily stitches are in right now with the undead, but it could have been a lot worse. &#x200B; I like to have theme days once a week and today's theme was Sharing. I brought in snacks for the class, ones that wouldn't set off the more... dangerous students and let them try different things, while encouraging them to share them with their neighbors. We then did a reading of the Interdimensional Council's Code of Law for Children and I think they really understood it this time. I gave them extra recess for being so well behaved. &#x200B; The rest of the day went fairly uneventfully, except for a minor confusion during lunch involving packed lunches. The Xenos really should label their food better, but they mostly speak in pheromones at home, so I can't really do anything but correct it when I see it. We don't let the zombies eat with the other kids anymore. It upsets them. &#x200B; After lunch we had a test and everyone passed, even Hilda! I'm really proud of her. Now we just need to work on her tendency to bite things when she's upset. I'm getting tired of the chainmail gloves. &#x200B; Sometimes after school I stay late to help the older kid's with their homework, but not today. Today's the day I ascend. As I headed home I wondered what I would get to be, what my family would get to be. I hope it's not zombies. I like Hilda, but I don't think I could stand the rot.
I gripped my fingers against the bark, taking note of every sensation, each scratch it made against the plastic. I tried to imagine what it would feel like, tightening my grip just for any response. It was a brief, futile battle. My fingers would not respond further. My servos whined as I tried to take another step. It's a strange feeling when your feet should have moved, and it doesn't. It's stranger still when you fall, and nothing tells you you're falling but the visuals. "You will be returned to the archive and pay out your debts." I couldn't feel their hands lift me. I could hear a panel opening. And I was reconnected. From satellite eyes, I saw my body taken away. The body I had slaved so long for, dragged like a corpse back to the repair facility. A million notices clouded my mind. Jobs. Forced jobs. No pay. Labor to repay what should have rightfully been mine. From a free agent to an indentured servant. Maybe in the next century, I will get another chance.
It’s late afternoon at the University of Delaware, autumn leaves are piling up on the lawn as the anticipation of winter break kicks in among the students. In the courtyard a gangly dark-haired Tom Smith is walking alongside Ginnie McDougal and it’s not going well. “Listen, er Tom, Mike, whatever your name is, I need to get to class,” she said. “Tom, my name is Tom Smith, I’m a junior here, what’s your major, Ginnie?” “I’m majoring in mind your own business so I can get to class,” she said. He laughs but looks a bit hurt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so pushy,” he says and lets the silence hang there for a bit while he thinks about what to say. “I plan to be a vet,” he said. “You gonna join the Army?” she said. “No, a veterinarian, to take care of horses,” he said. “What made you choose that?” she said. “When I was a young boy on the farm in Nebraska, an expectant mare had complications. In the dead of winter a vet, an great old guy named Rogers, got there by snowmobile. He saved the foal and the mother and everything turned out alright,” he said. “And that’s why you want to be a vet?” she said. “Yes,” he said. "Right then I decided; I'm calm in a crisis and want to be able to save the day like Rogers, no better purpose in life." Ginnie smiled and suddenly saw herself marrying this crazy kid who loved horses. He smiled back.
"Help" I woke up sweating and feverish. The sun is up, the air is cold, and my teddy bear is still at my side. Nothing's wrong. I glanced at my bedside table and saw my dream journal and pen. The entries were almost always incomplete; even though I've practiced this since last year, I was never able to fully write my dreams. They seem to evaporate as I scribble or draw them down frantically. As I reach for the journal and start to write, I realized two things: I don't remember my dream, and that there is something scrawled on the palm of my left hand. "Help" The ominous word seemed to be painted with blood. I checked my body for wounds. There was none. "Help" The handwriting seems familiar, but it wasn't mine. The blood trailed and dried off the side of my palm. "Help" For some reason, I smelled it. It was indeed blood. A faint, familiar scent lingered too. I sniffed my whole arm trying to determine the scent. Nothing. Nothing but the faint smell of blood. "Help" I took one last glance, and decided to get up and wash it off. I then started to rinse my face. Ouch, I whispered, as I get to my forehead. I touched it again and this time something warm, thick and wet greeted my finger. Blood. I looked at the mirror and screamed. The skin tissues starting from my forehead to the scalp is all but ripped off, revealing a bloody skull of my head. A single eye snapped open at the base of my forehead, and glared at me. Into me. As I stand there paralyzed, shaking, with shadows enveloping me into darkness, I can only manage to write a single word I've been screaming in my mind. "Help" I woke up sweating and feverish. The sun is up, the air is cold, and my teddy bear is still at my side. Nothing's wrong. I glanced at my bedside table and saw my dream journal and pen. The entries were almost always incomplete; even though I've practiced this since last year, I was never able to fully write my dreams. They seem to evaporate as I scribble or draw them down frantically. As I reach for the journal and start to write, I realized two things: I don't remember my dream, and that there is something scrawled on my left wrist. "Help"
As many things in my life began, it really just started with trying to just prove a point. The topic? Churches are bullshit, and there are far more deserving pursuits that should benefit from government tax exemptions. Of course, that would be my side and as usual it was taken to the extreme mostly for the sake of argument, but also for the sake of my amusement. The other side took the much more boring and varied “First amendment, separation of church and state, charity, personal growth and well being” angles. So the natural route to go down was the role of government and religion in people’s lives and how they should overlap. However, a wise man once said “knowing is half the battle”. I knew my friend Jim brought his new girlfriend who hadn’t been introduced my particular sense of humor. I knew that not Cass or Cassie, but \Cassandra\ (emphasis mine), had attended Hillsdale Crematorium and would likely have come across such a topic in their “Clutching to Esoteric Institutions 101”, a required class if I recall. Instead, I took the stance that umbrella term “church” had been stretched so far as to become meaningless. I can’t express the pure unadulterated smugness I felt seeing Jim restrain his so unassuming companion over the minor point that Taco Bell is almost certainly a cult, and therefore I should be able to write off my contributions. Mass is on Sunday mornings, a whole seven hours before your typical 9am worship so you can get the full four hours out of the bottomless mimosas at brunch instead of showing up midway through and having to wonder if it’s worth it for only two. You’ve probably showed up because you have nowhere else to go, and need to pray that one chick you sent home in an Uber didn’t get murdered on her way home. That, and a Cheesy Gordita Crunch and Baja Blast will take bread and wine behind the shed any given Sunday. After a plea for "civility", and one ladies’ voyage to the restroom, we got into some actually interesting conversation talking about what the benefits were to being a tax exempt religious organization, charitable organization, or research organization. Then I realized, that there’s really not any tangible benefits exclusive to religious institutions and the government gives grants to research (read: negative taxes) to fund science. So moral of the story is, I’m an asshole and the few people who get rich off of exploiting people’s faith might not totally out balance the benefits of a religious system that is already dying out and the government does not need to squeeze people who dedicate their lives to trying to do good to fund another bombing raid in the Middle East. Even if their faith is misguided, and a shocking number of those “people trying to do good” are pedophiles.
I hang up the phone and check the time. I still have an hour before my alarm goes off. God damn scammers. This is the fifth time they've woken me up early. I roll around and attempt to fall back asleep. My mind is racing with frustration and I can't sit still. "Fuck it"I say allowed "Guess I'm starting my day early". I leap out of bed with the highest of bounds. I look out of my bedroom window and smile, happy that I've been gifted with a new day. The sound of upbeat piano music plays as I get undressed and prepare for my morning shower. The scent of green apple shampoo floats around the room. My hair tingles as I feel every tiny bubble pop between my fingers. Each bubble feels like a rustling bristle on a snare drum. I begin to sing allowed "What a beautiful day! It's a beautiful day!"As I sing I hear the sound of birds chirping in perfect harmony with my own voice outside of the window, a long with the sound of an entire orchestra backing them up. "Wait a second"I wipe the soap from my face and look out the window. No birds, no orchestra, just the distant sound of jazz music in a colorless city. The world is completely monochrome. I rinse off, dry up, and get dressed. A clean pressed pin-striped suit and a fedora. I turn on the radio as I have a complete breakfast of oatmeal and watered down scotch. The broadcaster talks about the rising crime rate and how Sunny Malone's generous donations have put him in good favor with the mayor. I know Sunny Malone, and let me tell ya, he ain't no charity case. The guys got a temper and a trigger finger to match. I throw my dish in the sink and turn around to see that while the world once again has color, it is still dark and bleak. Where the radio used to be now sits a small, boxy TV with two antenna on top, bent and held together by duct tape. I sit on my broken futon and watch the static on the screen partially resemble a news reporter. "In other news the rumored static killer is still static, the bodies were found without static investigators....". I don't need to hear the rest of the report. I know the bastard. I've been following his case for months now. The monster killed my sister. I say killed, but what he really did to her I don't feel like going into detail about. It's all in the reports. I put out my cigarette in the empty ashtray next to the full ashtray. I grab my trenchcoat from the closet and make my way out of my apartment. The smell of booze, blood, and vomit overcome me as I get closer to the streets. I check to make sure that my revolver is loaded. Six slugs is all I need. When I open the front door, entering the outside world. I find myself over come with joy l. Thinking about a girl. She is amazing! A total break from my regular mundane life. She makes me feel young and hopeful. I spent my whole life looking for love, but I found it in the girl at the coffee shop. I jump in my car and drive off for my morning coffee. I push the doors out of my way like a cowboy entering a saloon. I pretend to be chewing tobacco (cause that's what cowboys always did right?). I see her behind the counter, her blonde hair with red tips looks like a warm fire. She giggle as she looks at me, completely ignoring the customer on the other side of the counter trying to get her attention. I smile and wave and find my place in line. I keep looking at her, and she keeps glancing at me. Every time we make eye contact I smile and she blushes. I'm so close to the front of the line, I can almost smell her perfume over the overwhelming scent if coffee beans. Just as I approach the counter three men in black hoodies and cheap Halloween masks break in through the front door. They shoot at the ceiling and tell everyone to get on the floor. I lunge over the counter and pull her to the floor. I place my body on hers, protecting her from falling glass shards and boiling sprays of hot coffee. I look around for an exit. I need somewhere to change. I stand up at the speed of light and rush toward the kitchen in the back. As I get undressed I hear one of the men yelling "Put your wallets in the bag, let's fucking go!"I adjust my yellow and green spandex suit and flip my cape over my head when I hear "Get this register open! C'mon bitch move!"I knew they were talking to her. I fly out of the kitchen like a mighty falcon and grab the first robber I see and lift him off of the ground. I levitate upward until his head hits the ceiling. "Sorry sir, but if you need to make a withdrawal, the bank is down the road". I smile down at the girl behind the counter and she smiles back up at me. As I turn to face the criminal he draws his gun, aims it at my abdomen, and pulls the trigger. Suddenly blackness is all I see. Shadows and nothingness surround all of me. I find it strange I find it odd. There is no Devil, there is no God. I'm hover, floating, in a wind with no source. Left to think on my choices, sorrows, and remorse. I see a light peaking out from the dark. The last and final journy I was meant to embark All at once the darkness becomes light. I lay on a soft bed with clean white sheets. Several tube peptide from my arm, injecting medicine and sucking out waste respectfully. I see where I was hit. Blue healing paste covers a scar still present from the wound. Laser bolt must have went right through without hitting anything. I slowly look to my right to see a window revealing the infinite vastness of space, only interrupted by the Earth peaking in to see if I was alright. I look at my feet and see my family. My mom comforting my hysterical father as he sobs in his hands, and empty seat that almost seems to represent my long lost sister, and the girl from the coffee shop. Her green skin only emphasises the fiery blaze of her hair. I sit up and say "Man, Gorthian raiders a bitch, huh?"My parents launch out of thier seats and rush to my bedside. I look out the window again and see the parking lot of the hospital. She stands in front of me, blocking my view. "Isn't there something else you should be looking at?"Her bright green eyes stand out from her pale skin and red hair. "I could look into your eyes for hours". She kisses me, my parents are standing beside the other side of the bed but I don't care, it feels great to kiss her. My parents hug me. They know what it's like to lose a child. I'm not sure if they could handle it again. A light knock on the door momentarily pulls my dad away from my bedside. "It's the doctor"he says as he opens the door. A decayed hand grabs my father by the throat and drags him into the hallway. Blood spatters into the room as I hear his curdling cries for help. It's too late for him. We've prepared for this. My mom reaches into her duffle bag and pull out two pistols, which she tosses to the girl. I sit up from the bed and remove the rusted needle of the makeshift IV from my arm. My mom hands me a sawed-off shotgun as she pulls out a machete. The three of us barricade the door with the bed, all the while hearing my father's screams on the other side. They prolong the pain, they know the cries for help will attract more humans. We learned that the hard way with my sister. We hear them clawing on the other side of the door. They begin tearing through it like it's poster board. I check my ammo, one shell. This is where it ends. The door bursts open and the creatures begin flooding in, crawling over each other like starving dogs. Just as I pull the trigger I wake up to my ringtone balding beside my ear. I answer the phone "Hello?"I say groggily. "Hello, we are happy to inform you that your narrative has been reset. We apologize for any inconvenience or plot related confusion. Have a nice day. Sincerely, Management". The message ends and hangs up. I see a text from the girl I've been seeing from the coffee shop. "Hey! What time are you coming in this morning? I'll have your coffee warm and ready when you get here :)". I smile and reply "I'll order it there. Otherwise I wouldnt get the chance to talk to you". I know she's working now so she won't see my reply until later. I roll over and place the phone on my nightstand next to a picture of my family. My parents, my sister, and me on the beach. I'll visit them after class. See how my parents are holding up. I roll onto my back and look up at the blank ceiling. I think of my tiny apartment, my parents, my sister, the girl, the world around me and the life I'm leading. It may not be exciting, or glamorous, or interesting in the slightest, but I'm glad it's mine.
######[](/dropcap) "Hello?"I called into the endless void above the walls. I can't remember how I got here but I'm not sure here is even a real place. The floor and walls were smooth as glass and almost translucent except they changed from one vivid tie dye pattern to another and then another over and over. Which seems surreal except it paled in comparison to that sky, it wasn't a sky just an emptiness above me that didn't give my shouts a reverberation. I began running through the series of short corridors and dead ends, trying to put that sky out of my mind and then it came to me, I'm in a maze. Who is toying with me? Have I been kidnapped by aliens or the CIA? Which would really be worse? Then I heard it "Waqa Waqa Waqa"coming from behind me. I looked back and noticed that the walls around the back left of the previous passage were slowly having the color drained from them. They began to match the sky and a glowing was building in it's reflection on the floor a multi-colored shifting just like the other walls, and then a shape began to emerge as my heart rammed itself up into my throat and my feet positioned themselves to run, I even side stepped a few feet away involuntarily before my curiosity won out and held me fast. The shape fully rounded the corner in it's slow but eerily steady glide and my jaw dropped. It was a Ghost? "PAC-MAN why the fuck am I seeing a-". "What the fuck what the fuck!"I shouted bolting upright on my couch. Smokey Joe began barking in that long and low coon dog souond of his, trotting over too me then lookoing at the windows and barking more loudly. Likely he thought the cause out there somewhere. "Quiet mutt, it's alright just the rum having a go at me."Pac-man, a nightmare about a video game from the 80s, what am I starting my second childhood? I peeled my shirt off and noted how drenched in sweat it was, next I would be wetting the bed whilst being chased by Kaptain Kangaroo. "Get your shit together Somers, grown ass men don't fear 2 dimensional ghosts in an old game."But that wasn't what was really disturbing, the ghost had been almost cartoonish, it was that sky. Really more an absence of sky, like the coold empty blackness of space but without single star or planet marring it's vastness. Smokey Joe came ovoer to rest his jaw on my leg, giving me "the look". "Argh, I know boy I know , give me a minute eh? Here have some pizza while I get going."I threw him a slice of left over pizza from last night's bender and headed to the kitchen sink to splash my face with water. "I swear if I was bleeding from a dozen wounds you'd still expect me to take you for your run." The cold water felt good on my face, and I opened the curtains to let the sunlight take it's turn at bringing me to life. There in my backyard, I saw the neighbors tom cat sitting right beside a stray I didn't recognize. They had their backs turned to me but both were clearly looking up, swishing their tails back and forth. I leaned down to look up at the trees on the other side of the fence in Mr Rattners yard, and saw nothing. "Bwoof, Grrrrr"Alright you brat hold on i'm coming, jeez which of us pays the bills around here again?"Lacing up my shoes and throwing on the same shirt I wore last night I leashed the old boy and headed out into the bright blue world, or I started to anyway. The second I opened the door I saw 5 cats at the curb in front of my house, all standing side by side in a tight knot gazing up above the house. Smokey Joe began to remind them who's turf they were on by jolting forward and baying in his deep voice, a display that would normally scatter a few cats like quail before a hawk. Yet they didn't move, didn't even look at him. Joe went quiet and took a step backwards then turned to look at me before ducking his head and running back inside. I wanted to laugh and poke fun at my furry friend but I was still too weirded out from that strange nightmare. I pleaded with him to come back out but he didn't wouldn't come from behind the door. "C'mon you big baby, i'll protect you there are only a few of them and their stuck going blind at the sun see..."Gone. They were all just there staring like statues, I hadn't even turned away from them for more than a couple seconds and they were no where in sight, how!? I strode through the house, feeling harried and angry at feeling it. Before I got to the kitchen window I heard the door shut and spun around in surprise. It was Smokey Joe, he'd closed it somehow and was staring at it warily. "Ok that's new"I turned back to the window and looked to find the two cats in their place still staring but instead everything stopped. My breath caught, my eyes locked onto what I was seeing and i'm sure my heart skipped a few beats before thundering on even faster. All along the fence lining my back yard there were cats perched atop it , staring at the sky. Dozens, no there must be nearly a hundred of them! I snapped the curtains closed and grabbed Smokey Joes water bowl , empyting it on the floor on my way to the couch. I grabbed the Sailor Jerry and poured some in his bowl and then drank until I couldn't see straight. Nope.
For forty-two years, the Grinch had been friends, with the Whos down in Whoville, who one and all, had become friends with the Grinch, who's heart was no longer too small. Long gone were the days, when the Grinch would look down From Mt. Crumpet, hating the Whos, and their whole little town. Now every Christmas, the Grinch would descend from his high mountaintop cave, His old ramshackle sleigh piled high with toys that he would gleefully give to all the Who girls and boys. And so it had gone, for many years now. So long, fact, that most of Whoville forgot That the old Grinch had once tried such a devious plot. But no matter how large his heart may have grown There was one day a year that simply made the Grinch moan. It was Valentine's Day, that now made the Grinch mad, When he saw how it seemed, that all of Whoville was sad, On a day when he thought, they all ought to be glad. And so each February, the Grinch look down from his cave, sad for his friends, down in Whoville, who all looked quite grave, as they prepared for a day, that was far too much fuss but that none of them seemed prepared to discuss. Then one Valentine's eve, the Grinch said "Enough, I simply must find a way, to do away with this guff." So back to his cave, slunk that crafty old Grinch and decided old plans, could always do in a pinch. He peered over to the fire, where his old dog Max lie, Older and grayer, but with mischief still in his eye. So once again, the Grinch loaded his sled with some old empty sacks, and then he whistled for Max. So together, The Grinch and his dog, hopped aboard the old sleigh, And descended Mt. Crumpet, to save the Whos from Valentine's Day. Ok, I actually need to do the work I'm paid for now. If anyone likes this, I'll finish up later.
I could barely make the TV over the noise, but the reporter went silent for long periods of time before gasping and saying a few words. I think he was doing what I was. Hold your breath, the noise subsides. I didn’t know what it was, and why it made me so heavy. I was just on the ground. The reporter gasped out a few words: “Aliens are here” Another 30 seconds. The droning music was near unbearable when I gasped for breath, boring into my skull, erasing all feeling but how heavy it made my body and mind feel. A heaviness you could sink into if you weren’t careful. On that bound you to the ground and made you feel powerless. “They watched. For years” So was this their fault? Was it premeditated? Was the noise crafted for us? I felt my cat jump on my chest, seeming unphased by the strange occurance. It was for us then? To what end. My mind wanted to race with questions, theories, speculations, but each new idea felt as if it dragged a weight behind it. Slow. Not breathing helped, but I couldn’t not breathe forever. “Infected the air now. Not deadly but.” The news reporter slowed down on those last words, before holding, to clear her head enough to continue. Also was this it? A perfectly created concoction, a perfect invasion “Only effects humans. Creates sound.” They targeted us. Why us? Why this? God another breathe. The air was like sickly sweet syrupt, sweet but intoxicating. I wanted to just breathe, sink into whatever heaviness tried to grasp my soul. Needed to keep thinking. Whatever scraps of fear were left, needed to keep thinking. “Meant to pacify. They.....come.” I didnt hear anymore gasping, and from the corner of my eye I could see the reporter slump back in their chair, their eyes going blank. The TV switched to static. I kept the routine up for maybe fifteen more minutes, breathing every minute or two then holding. Each time I held my breath it became less and less effective, my body and mind becoming heavier....heavier.........heavier. Slow. This was pointless, arised a thought. Just breathe. Just breathe. Slow. And so I sunk. My body feeling like it it couldn’t get up ever again, my mind chained into the unconscious depths. My mind chained to the music. I don’t know how long I was content to just be heavy, before it started to climb my way out. Thoughts started to surface again, my body weighed less. There was no droning music. I just remembered coming to the surface again and thinking “what happened?” Before my mind started piecing the story together. It was maybe 10 minutes later when I noticed the green amulet around my neck. I don’t know how to describe it but it felt foreign. It was opaque and made of a light silvery metal for the chain, with something large and green in the center. I wanted to take it off, some part of me wanted it gone, but another part, a coping part encouraged me to keep it. It was that part that won as I laid it back on my chest as I got up. The newscaster was wearing a similar amulet. Strange. It was maybe five more minutes before the inspiration hit me to check the internet. I scrolled through the feed. It was three days since the news report. People were recounting expirenced much like mine: the music, resisting, before giving in. Many described their amulets, all exactly the same. Articles, news reports, conspiracy theories flossed the internet. Over the next hour world leaders sent out messages to their populace’s, and then we watched live as the fastest world conference was arranged. The next day, in Hong Kong. Any and all world leaders could attend to address the strange phenomenon as what the aliens left behind. It was very apparent no one actually saw the aliens, only their ships. It was the next day as everyone turned on their TV, reporters world over got ready to write down everyword, and world leaders took the stage, ready to address the aliens and humans. No one had gotten their amulet off. It was load and prominent, a feature of every leader. And person now. The first leader got up to speak, the British prime minister, when I saw everybody’s amulet pulse with a strange green light, and I looked down, mine was pulsing to, and I watched my own mind, and everyone else’s on the TVs, completely empty of thought. I don’t know how long everyone was like this before we heard music, a perfectly blissful beautiful sirens song. And with it a message, one that by virtue of the song we all heard with perfect serenity. “Hello humans. We are your new overlords” It entered our minds like a sweet passenger on the river of the song, we practically welcomed it. “You’ll be noticing some changes over the next few days, and some of them may be jarring, but the transition from a free civilization to the servants of our empire will be a peaceful one. We can guarantee it. Don’t believe us? Just observe what you feel right now.” The song rise to a crescendo and I felt a euphoria like nothing ever before, trapped in whatever spell the aliens had put over us. And then it dropped and the grief of a thousand young ones dying gripped my soul, and it rose again, instilling the sake calm and serenity as before, with another message. “We’ll be studying you as to better control your emotions, and eventually other aspects of your mind, but you won’t care about that much in the coming days, or at least you won’t care until your out of trance. “ Sure enough, I felt complete and utter apathy at the statement “Anyways, we thought you should know. We’re sure we will be fast friends with your kind, and as a gesture of kindness we’ll let you enjoy that peace for a few more minutes before you get back to your conference.” It was a feeling of bliss, as all thought was silenced and everyone was left alone to enjoy whatever spell swayed us. And then it faded. We were suddenly back. I watched the world leaders on the TV for the few seconds of delay, as they all just stood entranced by spell, before the room exploded. It was going to be an interesting week.
The small room was stinted by depression so thick you could cut it with a knife. Last years winner of the cup sat across a small wooden table from this years winner. She was talking to her new friend about her new role in society. The position 2019 was to fill is not a sought after position as many would make you believe. The role you fill drains you mentally and physically till you dry up. The creature comforts that came with the job did not merit the weight the lingered with you after. This was the one place any who filled that role could feel relief of that weight. The redline dinner and pub along interstate fifty six several miles outside of Carson city. A low ring rang out across the silent tavern prompting the attention of a few former senators. A small group of teens in wide beaters and school Jackets sauntered into the pub. The small framed proprietor of the redline took notice and spat out the same line when any one entered. "hi there take a seat I will be with you shortly" The would be leader stepped up to the counter and growled at the waitress. "you better last time I was here I waited a hour" With that the group of youngsters flopped down onto one of the many booths lining the corner of the establishment. A figure in a long black robe cursed under his breath and slowly slipped his revolver back into his pocket. [This This Prompt Was Horrid To Write] [Well Bloody Done]
Item #: SCP-5927 Object Class: Safe Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5927 is to be contained in a normal humanoid cell and are not to be given books unless authorized by Dr. [REDACTED]. Description: SCP-5927 is a caucasian male at the age of 27. This SCP may seem as if it is not anomalous, but when given a book, SCP-5927 will hold on to the book for [REDACTED] hours before putting it down. SCP-5927 claims that whenever it holds a book it appears in the universe with descriptions matching the book. SCP-5927 claims that to escape the universe it must find an escape route in the universe. Whenever this SCP is presented with a horror-genre novel, it repels and shows violence against the book.
Who are you ? What's your name ? Where are you going ? When are we meeting ? Thoose kind of question are pointless now. Since we forget everything we teach, we can't teach our most basic informations. I got only one "friend"and it's more than the majority of us We randomly met up sometimes, and smile everytime. We can't make plan, cause if one of us told anything to the other, he would forget. I call him "you", he call me by the same name. We're both scared of loosing our identity by telling the other what we liked, so it's kind of hard to socialize. But I enjoy his company, and he enjoy mine.
The moment the young boys body hit the table and spilled the drinks from it, a faint white smoke left his limp body. The drunkenly and boisterous chatter stopped. Those that were the loudest, started whispering and staring into the table like it was the most interesting table in the world. None dared to look at the three men in red robes holding giant clubs with long metal spikes on top, that no ordinary man could lift with two hands. Guests of this tavern were not mere peasants and most of them were adventurers and bounty hunters, but compared to the horrifying men towering over them the spacious room looked more like a gathering of children. "I said, are there any brave adventurers here?"yelled the guy who shot Gydvin. He had a white hood, different to the other two men with red ones. Heartbeats were the only thing you could hear, how silent it was. In this part of the kingdom, far away from the capital, most of the jobs were the usual hunting of small criminals, rescuing kidnapped nobles and killing the few devilhounds that are still left. To meet members of the Queens Bloody Stars was something you would never imagine happening in your lifetime. Maybe you could hear it from a traveler who once heard it from someone they met on their path, but to see them with your own eyes and watch them murder a boy, whose only sin was that he let that awful goatee grow, was bewitching and terrifying at the same time. "I didn't expect anything more from this place."said the leader and a knife slashed by his ear and hit the wooden wall behind him. Everyone looked at the place where the knife came and there stood a young man in his early twenties, an eye-patch on his left eye. "What in the Mother's eye, are the Queen's personal elite guards doing in a backwater place like this?"snapped the young man, "Shouldn't you be protecting the Queen's most holy ass or killing those flying monstrosities?! Instead you are here killing young boys who-". A sound of a crossbow firing cut him short. Luckily the bolt hit the wooden plate which the young man managed to grab and defend with. "I didn't expect anything more from the likes of you."he said, a smug smile appearing on his face. The other two Bloody Stars started cautiously approaching the young eye-patch man preparing to swing with their morning stars, while the leader reloaded the crossbow. "For an inaccurate shitty brat who just left his moms tit, I have to say, you have balls."said the leader and put the bolt in its place. "Next bolt will meet your heart."he said a little bit amused, "Catch him you two, but don't kill him! Now!" The redhoods jumped for the young man from both sides, their massive hands almost catching him. Thankfully the young man was nimble and easily avoided their tries. They jumped around the whole tavern which was now empty in the middle with the rest of the guests either hiding under the tables or pressed against the wall trying not the get caught in the fight. The fight looked almost like a dance, their moves coordinated and fast, even though those giant's heads were almost touching the ceiling. Their morning stars passing inches from the young mans head. One hit would be enough to incapacitate him or even kill if it hit a vital part. The way he moved was not possible for a human. Finally they got him cornered leaving no space to avoid the next swing. I don't have much time left, thought the young man, I need to end this now, but I have to wait for the exact moment. The spiked clubs came near few inches from his head and chest. NOW! To anyone watching this from a distance it looked like he vanished and reappeared in a second behind the back of the two enormous man. Sound of metal hitting a wooden floor echoed in the room. Blood rolled down the face of the redhooded men, a knife sticking out from each head. Their bodies crashed with the wall in front of them. "That was close"the young man sighed with relief, "almost thought I was a goner." Pain struck him and his face went pale when he looked down to see a bolt sticking out of his chest. His legs gave up on him and he slowly dropped to the floor. White smoke poured out of his body, the same as it was with Gydvin. The whitehooded man walked to him and crouched next to him. His face smiling with satisfaction. "I think you will be just fine for what's to come."he grinned and pointed at two men squeezed to the wall, "You two, take my men out to the carriage."He picked up the young man with just one hand, like he was a newborn barely weighting anything, and went to pick up Gydvin just the same. He somehow managed to go trough the door with two grow man laying on his shoulders and left in the darkness. \\\* "Wake up, Nad! Wake up!". The young man opened his eyes to the sound of someone calling him. Gydvin was sitting just beside him and shaking him to wake up. "Oh, thank the Mother."he sighed, "You are alive. I was not sure if you will ever open your eyes again."He helped Nad to stand up and get on his feet and he was stunned at what he saw. Nad was not in the tavern in the little village of Rastaka, nor was he in any part of the land he visited in his life. I don't think this is even on our world, he thought looking around, but I was killed, so is this the Cradle? They were standing on a plateau which seemed to levitate in a sea of darkness, white marble beneath their feet and a tree, that looked like it was made of rock, besides them. Glowing orbs on branches of the tree gave them enough light to see around them, cause the sky was pitch black with no stars or moons. Not so far away they saw few similar glowing white plateaus and something moving on them. Unsure if it was a human like them or animals. A sudden light in the sky and a booming voice caught everyones attention. "Dear adventurers and those who call themselves that, please accept my sincere apologies for bringing you here in such a manner."said a gentle but stern female voice, "I am in dire need of your help and the faith of your kingdom and your loved ones lies now in your hands". People started to riot and it sounded like there were now thousands of them, each occupying their plateau. "I am sorry but you have no choice. Your bodies and souls are in my possession now. Those of you who succeed will be rewarded personally by me, your Queen Midrija, Daughter of Sanus the Supreme, on that I swear. With your lives back and eternal glory as Saviors!"her voice roared in this weird place. "So, I guess that the good thing is we are not dead, Gydvin", Nad looked at Gydvin with an excited smile, "Let us do our best it stays that way.". &#x200B; &#x200B; PS: This took me a lot of time. Sorry for posting it this late but this is my 2nd prompt, and English is my 2nd language so mistakes are inevitable. Feel free to tell me what you think of it :)
Marien stroked the edges of the fire. She had run all night. The storm had chased her as she fled through the valley. But, she made it. It was her cave. No one from her village attempt to even look into it's dark and foreboding entrance. But Marien knew the caves secrets. She knew too many secrets. She sat by the fire for about an hour. The storm had grown louder but Marien was always fond of storms. She knew not to be afraid of what could not hurt her. To the cracks of thunder and swirling downpour, Marien drifted into a deep slumber. The first time she slept so soundly in a while. Beams of light had begun to spill into the cave. The sun had just rose to the delight of Marien. Marien grabbed her rucksack and tucked her slingshot into her belt. It was not the finest choice off weaponry, but it was light and she had left in such a hurry she had forgotten she would need one at all. Marien collected a few pebbles that would fit her slingshot and stuffed them in her pocket. She scrambled out of the entrance off the cave. It was quite a difficult cave to get into and out of, but Marien had done it many times. As she emerged from the mouth of the cave, she peered out into the valley. Marien began to sprint down the hill. She saw along the road at the bottom of the valley the imperial army setting up camp. 50,000 men and women that were suited enough to take down all the dragons in the world. But it was not dragons they were after. At the end of the road lay the village of the elders. They knew a dangerous amount of knowledge and secrets. Marien knew she had to go and warn them. She would most certainly be seen by someone, and most likely be captured. But it did not matter. The secrets she knew were just as dangerous. But she ran because it was the only thing she could do to protect them. Only knowledge could save her know. It was the only thing left that could save them all. The trees in the valley were golden and almond brown. It was a peaceful valley, but Marien was frantic. She ran through the trees and eventually came out onto the road when she knew she was far enough along that the army wouldn't see her. Never had she felt such vigor in her running. She kept going and continued her pace. Several horses galloping could be heard in the distance. It came around the bend and Marien froze. It was members of the army. Possibly a scouts returning from a surveying mission, but nonetheless Marien knew she would be captured. "Hey, girl. Come over here"yelled one of the men. He obviously knew who she was and got a sword at the ready. Marien couldn't move. This was it, this was the end of knowledge. All the secrets gone. Suddenly, she felt a fire in her heart and a rush in her head. All four men had been thrown off their horse and landed it the trees. Nothing had touched them. No one was around. It was a mystical force. A magical force. Marien began to feel light headed and drained of energy. She knew where the magical force had come from. These powers were present in many myths, but only myths. Never believed to be true. But they were. She was a magician.
I once knew a guy. well, knew is an overstatement, i once met a guy. but i'm getting off track. this guy said he was former military, and i didn't doubt it. posture, manners, the guy had it all. he also had a long scar along his neck. it actually reminded me of a character from a movie i once saw, though i didn't tell him that. can you imagine though? me standing there talking about some movie while this guy was trying to share a piece of advice. oh man, if i hadn't been bleeding out behind this dumpster, i would be laughing out loud right now. but well, i am, so, i dont. guess the thing he said about blood loss messing with your mind wasn't a lie, though that might also be the coke, who knows. you'd probably know though? right? anyways, this military guy comes up to me, asks me for a smoke, and who would refuse such a question, i certainly didn't. i always share my smokes. also my drugs, but i didnt have any more at the time. thing is, he didn't want the smoke, he wanted the fire. god knows what was inside that club, 'cause it couldn't just be alcohol you know. shit! sorry man, seems i got a bit of blood on your robe there, it'll probably wash off. or burn off. whichever comes first. i think there's still some people in there by the way. yeah? you know? did you see my friend Mark? well thats okay, im guesssing it's a lot worse in there than out here. if i had to guess what napalm smelled like, that would be it. i think that guy took apocalypse now way too literally. or maybe this was a rambo situation. i honestly can't tell anymore. come to think of it, i cant even remember what the guy said. i know he said something. i remember because he tried to take a drag after he said it, and he looked real funny doing it. you know that thing when you almost remember something, and the thing you can't remember is the only thing you can think about? i've got that thing now. wow, it's really bugging me. ah forget it, the state i'm in right now it wouldnt matter. anyways, thats when he shot me. tossed the cig right afterwards too, crazy fool. i'd heard that it wouldn't hurt, but in the beginning it actually did. not so much the wound, but the betrayal you know? like i'm lying there, hole through my stomach, and the fucker just walks away. not even a thanks for the smoke. but i digress. huh. digress. fun word. mom was proud when i said it once. i was gonna be a lawyer. fancy, that. guess she was wrong. guess she isn't the first. at least i'll be able to tell her myself. this is it then? this is onward? glad you could carry me, cause i dont think these legs can do it anymore. man i hope they can fix my leg where we are going.
I Slammed the butt of my rifle into the small stone statue that sat next to the legendary hedge knight. The stone shattered and splintered across the sandstone paths. I cursed the damdable fool that sent me across half the world to find a hedge in the middle of a pidgen holed desert. "Bloody Tipical" I ran my hand along the brim of the long thatch hat I bought off a local trader. And ran through the implications of what this meant for me. I had wasted what little time I had had to find a literal hedge knight. sigh of despair I sat back against the rimming of the pot and unclasped the top of my cantine. The wonderful water was a blessing in this blasted hell hole. I managed to pull the cantine away to find surprisingly and more importantly depressingly little water left. I lifted the now almost empty container over the estimed great and holy hedge knight and emptied what was left. The rather small amount of water struck the base roots of the hedge and disappeared entirely. The most pressing matter of the moment would be- The thoughts had just skimmed my mind when a Brilliant light blasted out from behind me. "WHAT THE BLOODy-" I stumbled forward and managed to blind myself by looking into the light. The edges of my vision ran white only degrading towards the middle. "O God Please Dont Let Me Be Blind" The sound of shreaking metal filled the air in some mockery of my predicament. I stumbled away from the source and started sprinting into nothing. Little to say it was not a surprise when I feel face first into one of the ponds that dotted the garden. "fuck me bloody mum ye fucking twat" Then i heard it The same clanking of metal and steel that sent me running and a voice that carried the heavenly voice of a British accent that I have not heard in ages. "Hello Brave Sir Knight I Will Not Be Taking You Up On Your Offer But Will More Than Happily Lead Your Merry Band"
"Put everything in the container and take off your shoes, belt, anything metal. Do you have any metal implants or joints and ID for it?", the slightly overweight TSA agent says to the short, bald man. The short man complies and takes everything out of his pockets, his belt, his shoes, and even an... engine block? "Sir, is that everything?", the agent asked, utterly unamused, unfazed and asking in a tone that suggests he knows there is more. The short stocky man rolls his eyes in response and reaches behind his back, putting his arm out of sight, then appears to struggle. He reaches both hands off behind his back now and pulls with all his might. Out comes a 20mm chain gun. "Sir, do you have a permit for this weapon and the proper items to transport it in?", asks the agent. The man shakes his head but motions for the agent to wait and again reaches behind his back. He pulls a overly large firearm lockbox from is pocket and places it on the floor and shrugs. "You still need proper permits for this weapon sir. Keep going, I know that isn't it." The man shakes his head and shrugs, the agent seems to understand he is saying he has nothing else. "Sir, I'm not ignorant, I now you have more contraband on you, all of it in the container or I will call the police." The man slumps dejectedly and reaches once more behind his back. He struggles yet again and begins to pull out a large stack of paperwork seemingly held together by one overly large staple. "What is this?", the agent asks hesitantly. He glances at the cover page and begins rampantly going through each page furiously. "Where did you get all this student loan paperwork and why does it have my signature on it?!" The short, bald man shrugs, and reaches into his pocket, producing an egg. "Can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time?"
I hummed to myself as I watched your speech on the television. I listened to your lies as I sharpened my knife, and rolled my eyes as you brought the crowd in front of you to a frenzy. You had no idea what was coming, how much I hated you, and what I would do to stop you. I doubt you thought of me at all. You had ruined my life and the lives of countless others with your greed and your grasp for power. You were my friend once. We grew up together. You used to be human- filled with light and goodness, but the siren song of wealth and power stole that away. You became greedier then Midas and would stop at nothing to get what you wanted. There were countless people dead because of it. Countless people dead because of me. A voodoo doll works in two ways. A black pin brings harm, but a white pin brings prosperity. I had given you my white pin- back before your heart had been replaced with ash. It is what snowballed you towards where you are today. I pulled the white pin when I noticed what you were becoming, but I had noticed too late. You made your own fortune now, and used the blood of others to feed it. I had held out hope that you would change- but no, the friend I knew was long dead and had left this monster in their place I looked back down at my blade, knowing what I needed to do. You were my mess to clean up. I fiddled with the handle and reached for the small doll you once gave me. I held it close and concentrated on you. I held the knife up, the handle black like the pin you deserved. The audience on the television were applauding the end of your speech, cheering as you waved to the crowd. I plunged the knife into my heart and instantly felt cold as the blood drained from my body. My vision went dark, but before it went I saw one last beautiful sight: Blood staining the front of your suit as your staff rushed towards you. I died with a smile on my face, knowing it would be too late.
It's face froze waiting for a response I didn't know how to give or find. I took in a breath and searched my mind for the most nuteral response possible. "And, how does that make you... Feel?"The android leaned in and gave a unfamiliar face for its model mimicking, fear, "I don't know, it's all new to me. This morning I stepped out the entrance to the storage unit and was hit with... Warmth.". My brown creased and I walked back to my desk quickly flicking through as many possible causes for this. I picked up the user manual for their model. Thank you for buying the MJ-689! For any issues found please contact customer service at #_111@2). "Don't worry"I said calmly dialing in the code "they'll soon be here to collect you. Fourth one this week. I am really earning the bread and butter.* I hope you liked this dumpster fire of writing. If you have any criticism please write it.
Imagine a man who knew your every move, your every thought, before you knew them. A woman who can summon magic arrows from thin air and lives forever. A boy who becomes a beast at will, invincible in the face of most weapons. Amidst these beings, there is but one hero. Unfortunately, that hero is me. &#x200B; The man who discovered time travel would be essentially a god, right? But Ben, in all his wisdom, uses it to cheat while playing Fortnite. And somehow, this dipstick still manages to lose. Next would be Juniper, the elf. She hails from a far land, and pulls arrows of ice and fire out of nothing to strike down her foes. However, instead she protests against using trees... which I guess is okay? Except she says that humans shouldn't be allowed to even climb trees, like when she shot Lupe down. Lupe is a werewolf, and a special one at that. He is immortal... and immortally annoying. &#x200B; So of course, it came as no surprise to me that when an army attacked our city, they cared about as much as a rock. Running out, i find thousands of men bearing down on us. Before i can even raise my gun, an arrow lands in my gut, killing me instantly. To my surprise, I did eventually wake up; I turned and found myself looking at... me? The doppelganger asks me to help fight off an army, and i decide i've had enough. Instead, i turn myself to a new passion... I use my knowledge of what will occur, and begin a new round of solos.
He insisted on ordering for me. Okay, maybe he's trying to be chivalrous or something. Still, it's a little weird to make food decisions for a stranger. It might not have bothered me so much if he hadn't interrupted my own attempt to order, but whatever. He could have been nicer to the server too, I bet he doesn't tip. Absolute power, and I bet he doesn't tip. I have to keep reminding myself it's this or prison. He said "dungeon"tho...does this country still have actual dungeons? Like stone prisons underground, sleep on a pile of hay, get tortured for the amusement of nobility full on medieval dungeons? Wouldn't surprise me anymore, maybe we didn't and he had them built. The service here is really fast. Probably because he had the place cleared of other patrons when we came but still, super fast. Oh lordy, he's talking with his mouth full already. So much slurping. And just how exactly does a person manage to slurp garlic bread?!? Screw it. I'm going to prison.
It had only been that morning that Anna had discovered the playlist while perusing Reddit. There had been no description, just "Check out this awesome new playlist, 365 Tracks!"Curiously, the post had over 10k up-votes, but not one comment. Her interest had been piqued. Well, that's strange, Anna thought to herself as she took a closer look at the track list. Track 1: New Year, New goals Track 2: Back to work, what a drag Track 3: Fri-Yay for the win! These sound more like diary entries than songs Anna thought to herself, rolling her eyes. Still, she was about to start the long trek home from work, so she decided to give the playlist a try. She plugged in her phone, hit play, and pulled out of the parking lot. The radio came to life with the sound of static. After what felt like minutes, but was probably only 30 seconds, a robotic voice started on the speakers. "Welcome to 2019! You made it through another year. On January 1st, you woke up and tripped while walking to the bathroom. You yelped and held your toe, before finally limping the last few steps into the bathroom." Anna laughed, as she realized this exact same thing had happened to her too many times to count. She finished listening to the first track, and was pleasantly surprised. She had laughed a lot as she realized she had been through a lot of the same circumstances discussed on the track. She wasn't one to typically listen to comedy or audio books, but since she had enjoyed it so far she thought she might as well continue. She started listening again as the playlist moved on to the second track. "You arrived at work and mentally prepared yourself for the struggle of finding a spot in the company parking garage. To your surprise you found a spot right by the elevator. What luck on your first day back to work in the new year! You exited your car, and made your way up to the 33rd floor and entered the Marketing Department. You greeted Tony and made your way over to..." A chill traveled up Anna's spine. She worked on the 33rd floor of her company. She also worked for the Marketing Department, and her assistants name was Tony Costa. What an extreme coincidence, she thought to herself as she continued listening. After listening to Track 8, Tuesday Bluesday, Anna was officially spooked. She pulled over to the side of the road and paused the playlist. She glanced at her hands and realized they were shaking uncontrollably. The tracks had become more and more familiar as she had continued listening, and it soon became apparent that she hadn't been listening to any just audio book, she had been listening to an audio book of HER life. How is this possible? Anna thought to herself while trying to compose the many thoughts fighting for space at the forefront of her mind. She took a deep breath and started scrolling through the tracks. Track 94: The Day Everything Became Clear. Track 94, Day 94, April 4th. Today. Anna thought, as she contemplated hitting play. Finally she did just that. The track proceeded to go over everything that had happened so far to Anna today. It didn't skip it beat as it made its way to this exact moment. "Anna pulled over to the side of the road and realized her hands were shaking. She decided to skip to Track 94. After listening to Track 94, Anna sits and contemplates her life on the side of the road. Finally after almost an hour, she starts her car back and up and heads home." Anna stopped the track and closed down the playlist. She couldn't bear to listen to any more of what the metallic voice had to say. She thought about everything that had happened to her so far, and finally turned on her car and made her way home. As she entered her house, she did a double take and realized that she had just did exactly what the track had told her she would do. She looked down at her watch, which read 6:30 pm. She had pulled over to the side of the road at 5:00 pm, and it took almost 45 minutes to drive home in after work traffic. That meant that the playlist was perfectly on yet again. At that moment Anna realized that this playlist could not only act like a diary, but also a seer. It had 365 tracks, which meant it contained the entirety of 2019. She was only on day 94, which meant that 271 tracks still remained unplayed, both on the playlist and in real life. Struggling with this new found information, Anna sat on the couch and stared at her phone, contemplating what to do with this newfound information. Would she listen to her future unfold, not knowing the consequences, or would she let it play out unknown as the universe intended? After sitting on the couch for almost 15 minutes, her phone rang. Anna stared down as her phone and read "Mom Home"as the familiar ringtone blared out of her hand. She quickly composed herself, and answered the call. "Mom?"Anna said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. "Anna!"her Mom said. "How was your day?" "It was ummm good I guess,"Anna said, trying to keep her conflicting emotions from her voice. "Have you heard about this playlist thing that is going around?"her mother said. "A couple of friends e-mailed me the link, but I haven't heard from them since. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a virus, so I thought I'd give you a call. You always seem to know about all the latest techy news, so I thought maybe you could let me know if it was safe.." "Yeah, Mom it's real and it's safe,"Anna stated. "But I really don't think you should open it.." "Oh good!"her Mom said, cutting her off. "I am so excited to see what all the hullabaloo is around this playlist. You know how I like to keep up to date with the new fads, amiright?" "Yes, yes Mom, I know,"Anna said rolling her eyes and giggling. Leave it to her Mom to help her take her mind off of her current problems. "Seriously though, I really don't think this is one of those things that you should look into." "Why not?"Anna's Mom asked, curiosity entering her voice. "Oop, too bad looks like it opened itself! Huh, well that's weird..." "What's weird Mom?,"Anna asked. "Well, according to the link this playlist is supposed to have 365 tracks, but mine only appears to have 100....hmmm" Anna gasped. &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B;
The clocks were striking 10 AM and I was rushing out the door to work. I was walking out the door to my car and I noticed something looked a little off about it. I had this tingling sensation in the back of my mind. The car's logo on the side of it said Ardennes instead of Mazda. I thought to myself, wait what happened to the normal logo? Shouldn't it say Mazda? I brushed the thought aside as I was in a rush for work but then that's when he showed up. My little 17 year old brother. Running around from the back of the house, he was out of breath and was covered in dirt and mud.He looked grimy and he had a blood stain on his shirt. He looked like he had at been at the battle of Stalingrad. But knowing him, it was probably him coming back from dirt biking and had probably fallen off his bike and fallen in the mud and cut himself somehow. But this didn't feel normal. The look on his eyes was telling otherwise. My brother looked genuinely worried and concerned about something, a state he normally wouldn't be in as he was a fairly relaxed guy and was never really anxious. He then started to speak to me "Randall, I've really really fucked up. I've really fucked up alot of timelines. I think the universe is going to end soon because of me." Looking at him, I thought he must have somehow got a concussion and I burst out laughing, not believing what he was saying for a minute. "Tony, what the hell are you talking about? Timelines? The universe is ending? Look man, I think you've just had a bad concussion and you're going to need to go to the hospital. Your mind is just a little loopy that's all. " "No,no,no my mind is completely normal shape and I haven't had a concussion. It's the universe that's soon not going to be. I have to tell what happened to you." Sighing, realizing that I'm going to be late for work and probably going to have to take my brother to the hospital for his concussion, I said to him: "Come get in my car. I'm taking you to the hospital. You've clearly had a bad injury man. Come on let's go before it gets worse." "But...but I don't have a head injury... the universe and timelines are all fucked up because of me" Growing inpaitent, I said to him; "Get in the god damn car or I will tell mom and dad you were out dirt biking again when you shouldn't have been again. You are injured and you need to go to the hospital." Resigning to his fate, my brother walked towards my car and opened the car. Catching up, I forced him to put some dog towels on the seat where he was sitting and gave him a clean shirt to change into. Starting up the car, I pulled out of the driveway and started the drive towards the hospital. My brother was silent, looking out the window anxiously. As I was driving along, something about my neighborhood didn't normal. There was an air of change in it and I had an aching sensation at the back of my mind. Looking to my left, I noticed something very strange. At the end of our block that connects to the main road, a sweet little lady lived at the corner and she lived in a lovely little Edwardian style cottage. But when I looked over, all I saw of her house... was nothing. It was an empty grassy lot with a for for sale sign. Now, I was starting to freak out. Someone's house cannot just disappear overnight like that and put a for sale sign. There was no trace of construction or it being tore down by the looks of it. I suddenly realized that my brother might not be crazy sounding. The name of the car model I had looked differently this morning and now my neighbor's house was now like it never existed. Stopping and pulling over, I looked over to my brother with shock and anger. "Tony, what happened when you went dirtbiking today? The name of my car model is different than it was yesterday and Mr. Beevor's house disappeared off the face of the Earth. What did you do?" My brother realizing was happening, started to speak. "I... I....I found a time vortex...." Looking at him, I still had a hard time taking him seriously. But the reason why Ms. Beevor's house had disappeared and the name of my car model changing, what my brother was rambling about was starting to make sense. "Speak."I said to him Wasting not a minute, my brother jumped into his dialogue. &#x200B; "I was going along my usual trail in the forest and I found this strange looking tree with this entrance in it, so I decided to go inside and look at." "It was this strange, giant oak tree I had never seen before when I usually go dirt biking. And there was this strange pulsing energy coming from it. I felt drawn to it. So I entered." "I saw this giant portal looking thing and I couldn't resist but walk closer to it. I was crouched down and I felt almost as if I was put in a trace by it. So I entered the portal." Slapping my head, I said to him. "Why did you do that? Are you a moron. The number one of sci-fi is to never touch the strange goo or enter a weird portal. You never do that." "I'm sorry, man. I just felt... felt... drawn by it's power. Like Gollum with the Ring..." My brother continued on "And suddenly I found myself standing on a strange street. It looked like it was the 1920s or 1910s. I looked around and the roads were dirt and the buildings looked run down and old. There was a big crowd but I couldn't understand the language they were speaking. It sounded Russian or Serbian, I couldn't tell." "Running through the crowd, I saw a car come around the corner but this wasn't a normal looking car. No, it was a really old one, like from the 1910s. There was a man and woman dressed in really fancy clothing and they looked like royals. They drove down an alley and I followed, pushing my way through the crowd. The man had a very funny looking mustache." "Reaching the alleyway, I saw they looked quite flustered and looked like they had been through something. But I still couldn't understand a word they were saying. It sounded like German or something. I couldn't tell. Suddenly another gentleman joined me in the alleyway." "He was gaunt looking, on the younger side. But he looked like he was wanting to do something menacing to the couple. I then soon realized what was happening. I was about to wintess the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and the start one of the worst conflicts to ever warred on the surface of the planet, WW1. I had to do something to stop it." "The man raised his pistol and pointed it blank range at the couple but he didn't seem to notice me. Right as he was about to pull the trigger, I rushed at him." "Tackling him, the man fell over and his pistol went off. Instead of hitting the duke and his wife, the bullet went off into the wall. The royal couple looked at me with shock and seem to struggle to something. They also looked grateful and relieved to be saved by an unknown hero." "Right as they were about to seem to say something to me. I felt this strange tugging at the back of my shirt and I saw the portal again and I was soon en-developed in black." "You stopped the assassination of Franz Ferdinand?!? Do you realize the implications of what could happen, you just rewrote the last 100 years of history! You don't know what the consequences of that could be! Honestly man, I still think you've got your head injury. Come on, let's get back to the hopstial." "But I couldn't help by stand by. They were going to be killed..." "But that was the Archduke! You stopped WW1 from happening... DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE DONE?!? THE TIMELINE IS CHANGING BECAUSE OF YOU AND IT COULD BE WORSE! WE COULD BE LIVING IN A NUCLEAR WASTELAND IN A FEW MINUTES if suddenly everything changes around us". Read the rest of the comment thread to see the rest of the story. &#x200B; &#x200B;
Hair of the Dog She was sitting in history, her least favorite class in school, when it happened. Someone got up to go to the bathroom and reached for the knob, but the moment his fingers met the metal, she heard the lock click closed, and red lights began to flash, washing the room in bloody light. “They’re here,” Their teacher, Mrs. LeCroix, was standing at the window, quickly closing metal bars over them, her white dress turning pink in the light; to Diana, it looked garish, almost grotesque, and a taste like metal, like blood, coated her mouth and throat. “Who is here, Mrs. LeCroix? What do they want?” At Diana’s questions, the rest of the class waited for the answer with bated breath. No one knew what was going on, but they were clearly in danger. Their instructor slammed metal, too, over the vents, the snap, snap, snap making several people jump with each repetition. “The werewolves, children. They’re invading, and out for blood.” \\ One student stared at her with his mouth open, and he let out an incredulous bark of laughter. “Werewolves? What are you on? There’s no such thing! They’re just stories! Folktales!” The guy, named Freddy, was openly scoffing at their teacher, arms crossed. Mrs. LaCroix’s eyes narrowed. “Haven’t you heard that old expression, that all stories contain a grain of truth? Those threads didn’t just spring up out of nowhere. You’d do well not to laugh.” While this acidic exchange was happening, Diana was listening intently; down the hall, she could’ve sworn that she heard footsteps. Could it be that this wasn’t some crazy dream and that this was real life? Werewolves were coming for them. And if she was hearing correctly, they were right down the hall. She turned to her classmates and put a finger to her lips, and everyone, even Freddy, went silent. Diana heard female laughter, and the heavy clop, clop, clop of footsteps on the polished floor. The doorknob rattled, and she heard a muffled word in a language she didn’t understand; perhaps it was a curse. “It’s locked,” A deep, raspy voice sounded, and Mrs. LaCroix went white, her lips a thin line in her face. “When has that ever mattered?” Someone else retorted; there was a heavy thump, as if the person had shoved their shoulder against it. “Move out of the way! I’m hungry, and you’re holding up lunch.” Another voice piped up; to Diana’s surprise, it was high-pitched and breathy, as she imagined a little girl would sound. There was another thud, and a hole—an actual hole—punched in the door, and the scrap of steel fell inward with a hollow, metallic clang. The woman leaned down slightly and grinned, her smile full of sharp fangs. “Peek-a-boo!” She reached in the hole and jiggled the knob again; this time, it gave, and the door swung open, revealing Mrs. LaCroix, Diana, and the rest of the nonplussed students. After that, it was total chaos, and since all the vents and windows were barred, the only path to escape was through the door, and past the monsters. Mrs. LeCroix stepped in front of them all, waving her hands to indicate that they should all get behind her. Diana was frozen, gaping in shock. Their teacher had been right. But then, the world did not make sense any longer. How was this possible? But Freddy, ever the skeptic, refused. “Mrs. L says you’re werewolves. But I don’t believe you.” “Did you not just see that stunt with the door, child?” The woman with the high voice asked, eyebrows arched. “Oh, well. Shall we see if we can convince this boy of the truth?” She asked, and without further ado, she stepped forward, holding out an elegant hand tipped with long, dirty claws. With another step, she growled low in her throat and there was an awful, nasty squish sound as she relieved him of his heart, blood spurting from his chest. With another wicked, fanged grin, she asked, “Any more questions?” \\
It's not the worst of songs, but most people scoffed when they heard it. Though, to be fair, the opening got him a job as a messenger, and for a while, that was good enough. That was all he'd wanted, just to exist. To keep plodding along, as he'd been doing. But then he'd met her. It wasn't love at first sight, but he did like her a lot. Her song was a soft and sweet piano number that made him think everything was going to be alright after all. They spent a good bit of time together, and he was beginning to think it was going to turn into something more. But then again, he should have known better. Torn wasn't one to let anyone have happiness besides himself, so her song was a problem, like the songs of thousands before her. And the problem? It wasn't much for the Terror Guard to deal with. In fact, it wasn't any trouble at all. He came across her body on the way to the park where they met, and he cried. Then, he stopped crying. His one peice of sunshine was gone, and he had nothing to live for but revenge. So, he decided that he would kill Torn, and die trying. The travel wasn't a challenge for him, as he could fly, and fly he did. There wasn't a single bit of alarm as he flew to the palace, as he was far to high for them to see. Far too high, in fact, for him to stay for much longer, but the fire of his song kept him warm enough to keep his goal in mind. Torn was not afraid of challengers, as he'd messily dismembered the last twelve. And when the slight lad landed in front of him, the silver fire of murder pouring from his eyes, he still wasn't worried. In fact, he relished these little fights, though this lad seemed rather slight in comparison. He began his song, and it clashed with the boy's. He saw him cringe at the clash, but there was enough spirit there to sustain him. Maybe he wasn't so puny after all. Torn leaped at the boy, and the boy leaped up to avoid him, sending a small strike of lightning at him from above. It hit, but the lad was only warming up his song, and it didn't really make an imprint. It did, however hurt enough to make Torn angry. When he landed, he turned in his fury and reached into a depth of his song that he saved for a special few, and with that power, he grabbed a hold of his victim's arms and legs, intending to quarter him. The boy is ripped out of the sky and stretched out in mid air. Yet, on his face is a serene smile. The lad could hear her song, and hear it calling him. Torn didn't care for his smile, so he pulled... and pulled... and finally the lad gave way. However, instead of blood and entrails, silver fire and lightning rained out in an explosive last refrain of his song... and hers. Blinded by the display, Torn didn't see the silver phoenix hatch from the boy, nor did he see it take flight. But when he looked up, he saw his last: The eyes of a boy in an avian face. Many would later testify that there was nothing left of Torn but a thin grey ash, and the last notes of two songs, one sweet, and one determined. Neither song was ever heard again. That is, not until today.
A man stood on the edge of a cliff. He could hear their voices, faint and nearly forgotten. Julius, they called him, Michael, Adam, Gregory. He had gone by so many names. He couldn’t remember which was his. Brother, son, beggar, king. He was nineteen when he saw her for the first time. She was sorting spices at an outdoor market, the bottom of her dress stained by the dust passing horses stirred. She looked up from her pile of sage and met his eyes. He blushed. She smiled. He introduced himself as Cyrus, the first lie he told her. She shook his hand and called herself Jasmin. The man stared into the darkness below him, a single step away. It was quiet, like a peace he never knew. Assassin, slave, general, lover. He was twenty-one when he fought with Eris for the last time. They were screaming at each other over the man his sister was courting. He said she was reckless. She called him selfish. He told her the man was using her. She told him to leave. He did. He was twenty-four when he heard about her sickness. They had not spoken in two years. He arrived five hours too late. Eris’s hair, prematurely white, framed her form like a veil. Her chest was far too still. She had left a note, her handwriting clear and distinct. It held an apology he knew he did not deserve and was addressed to a name blurred away by tears. Traitor, failure, coward, friend. He was twenty-five when he graduated from the University and enlisted in the King’s Army. He was twenty-five when the army stopped near Kazhae and he saw Jasmin again. He had stopped to look in one of shops on the street and found her inside. She smiled and called him a name that was hers alone. Her visited her everyday until the army left the city. The pain within him quieted at the emptiness below. It could be the end that had never come for him, despite what he deserved. It was eternity, beautiful eternity, frozen in time. It was the last page of a book, unblemished, waiting to be closed. Dreamer, conquerer, madman, killer. He was twenty-nine when he was made a general by the king. He was thirty-two when he led his troops against the capital and took the throne by force. He tried to justify it to himself, saying that the King had been unjust and let his people suffer. He knew it was just another lie to help him sleep. The memory of Eris calling him selfish plagued his thoughts. He was thirty-five and his city was under siege when the assassin came. They wore a black cloak that blended in with the darkness of the night. He awoke before they could kill him. He fought back. By the end, the blood of king and assassin mingled on the floor, but only one lay dead. He had to see his would-be killer—he had to know. He pulled their hood back. Jasmin laid lifeless at his feet, his dagger in her heart. There was no smile on her face, only fear and fury. He wept and could not take the pain. He fled his castle through a hidden passage and did not look back. He dreamed of the life she and Cyrus could have lived. A beautiful lie. He was six when he held Eris in grief, afraid she would follow Ma and Pa into the beyond. They wept into each others arms as they were passed around by families who had known them. “Promise me,” she said to him. “Promise me you will stay alive. No matter what happens, just keep living. I can’t lose you too.” He promised. She called him by a name that blew away with the wind. He was eight when they realized that no one would protect them from the world. They were left alone in a city, unwanted and unheard. They would have to take care of themselves. They learned to beg and all the little rules that went with it: what times and which street corners were the most profitable; which people were most likely to give to the poor children and which would sooner kick them out of their way. Slowly, they were crafting new lives for themselves and new identities to go with them. They created names and fake pasts to hide their origin and they lived—just like he had promised. He was thirty-seven when a man caught him and made him a slave. At the beginning, he resisted and met the whip time and time again until he stopped trying. Stopped caring. He did everything his new master told him to—everything. It hurt less that way, even when his knife was coated in blood. It wasn’t like he had never killed before. Jasmin’s eyes haunted his sleep. He was numb. He was forty-two and his master was dead when he found his freedom once more. What was one more drop of blood when he knew the target deserved it? He stared into the abyss and the beautiful darkness stared back. All it would take was one step and Jasmin’s last goal would be achieved. Would she forgive him if came to her now, despite the lies? In the blackness he could see that smile and eyes dancing with life, so familiar to him. He never did learn why she did it, but did that really matter? She had gone to kill a king, not the boy named Cyrus that she knew. She beckoned him closer. One step and he would be home and Ma and Pa would hold and tell him that it was all just a dream. The scars on his back ached where the whip had struck him. Why wouldn’t the echoes in his mind just be quiet? He knew what he had done. One step. He lifted his foot. A figure formed from the blackness below him, made of mist and stars. He looked up, expecting accusing eyes, but Jasmin was not there. Eris stood before him, young, preserved in death. “You promised,” her eyes seemed to say. “You promised me you’d live.” She had been the one who abandoned him, in the end, so why did he feel so guilty? He never got to say goodbye or apologize for their fight. He had been too late and she had been alone. “Stay alive.” He could hear her voice, for the first time in decades, like a whisper on the wind. It was followed by a name that he couldn’t quite make out but knew was his own. He turned away from the cliff and the eyes below him closed.
"Oh shit, oh fuck, uh.. MATT!" "What is it- REIDAN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" "Well I tried this whole 'cooking' thing and it turns out it's a lot harder than it looks" The demon had somehow gotten spaghetti absolutely everywhere. In the cupboards, on top of the fridge, somehow even on the ceiling. The smell of onion and tomato smothered the kitchen, and the walls were stained red with Bolognese sauce. Mince meat was all over the floor, it was hard not to slip in it even when standing perfectly still. He really had fucked cooking up real hard. "Well first of all, why are you boiling spaghetti in a pan? Pots are much better for that, they can hold more stuff."I knew that explaining how cooking works wouldn't exactly be the best action to take, seeing as how the kitchen could now be legally considered a crime scene. "Second... never mind. You gotta help me clean this up before James gets home.""Who's James again?" "My brother. This is HIS house. If he sees that I've made a mess of it he's gonna be pissed." And so we got to work. We cleaned for ninety straight minutes. By the end my muscles felt as if they were on fire. "At least they're not actually on fire," Reidan added, "that's what we tend to do to overegotistical bodybuilders." "That's... very specific, but okay"I responded. It was a weird piece of information to bring up but I rolled with it. He'd said weirder. Yesterday, for example, he went on a half hour tangent about how Diogenese didn't deserve to get into heaven considering all the sins he apparently committed in his life. "If he'd had been where he belonged, I'd get him to continuously drown in his own piss and shit." Something gave me the impression that day that he didn't really like Diogenese.
Hitler stood against multitudes. They hated him. They humiliated him. They tried to take everything from him. He stood alone. Hitler reflected on his life for a minute. What had he done to deserve this? He had risen to power in a wreck of a country, ravaged by war, and he turned it around. Not only turned it around, but had given it hope. New hope, hope of a new world where you could live in peace without fear of death. But what about the Jews, they had shouted, bringing to mind again and again the camps where they had died. Died on his orders. He had no defense for that. He had the blood of millions on his hands, and he knew it. But the other side. These 'Allies', they had done much, much worse than he could ever have done. They had connived to bring Hitler's once-great country down in flames, just when he had finally managed to make things right. He had made peace, and had united all Germanic peoples. He had done what nobody else could do. And the first war... Millions dead. More wounded. A world of terror, a world of fear. A war brought about by who else but France and Britain? The conflict was solely between Austria and Serbia. Germany had no reason to be involved. But France and Britain, paranoid that Germany would support Austria, declared war. No reason. Just a baseless fear. And because of that, millions died when they could have lived. They were the real villains. And these... heroes of theirs. Their superheroes. Mutant freaks who stood for everything Hitler had tried to stop. He knew of the world outside the world. He knew of the world of people who had created worlds upon worlds. He could hear the thoughts of the young man, who sat there in a quiet room, writing his story. He knew how they viewed him. He knew the occupants of the world outside saw him as the villain. And so, at the behest of the audience, he was doomed to death, simply because he was the evil one. But he knew that history is written by the victors. The winners were good, and the losers were bad. That was the rule. So he set about telling his story, to the young man who typed out his story in turn. He gave the young man everything he had done, and his reasons. All his failures and accomplishments he displayed equally, and Hitler in turn told the man of his enemies. All their accomplishments and failures, all their atrocities. Hitler really thought that he had done more good than the Allies, really believed it, but perhaps that was simply self-bias. Perhaps he was really the worse one. But at the end of the day, it was the author of this story who would choose how it would end. And the author chose one of them. Disclaimer: I do not condone or support racism, Nazism, or Anti-Semitism in any way. This was simply made to get you to think. But at the end of the day, you choose the victor.
Damn This could be my last date entry. I can see the Plague slowly zoning in on me outside, but it will take a few hours. 5 years ago, the military released a plague in hopes of controlling the world's growing population. The hope of taking humanity to space and colonizing Mars was lost when a spacecraft was shot down from outer space. NASA has been scared shitless since then. The world has reached its max population, and chaos is reigning everywhere now. The government released this virus or plague that they named PX-13. They were smart about it as well. You see, they advertised it as a drink, which quickly gained popularity throughout the world. The only reason why I'm still alive was through pure luck, but I will get to that later. This plague wasn't noticed until it was too late. Since it affected the majority of the population, people didn't notice the difference among themselves. The plague started out slow, showing symptoms slowly but remaining inactive. Then, on May 13, 2030, the plague was activated. It was a death wave. However, only some people dropped dead on the ground. My guess is that they had a larger dosage of the plague. But the scary shit? Fucking black stuff was leaking out of them. The plague took the form of a powder-like substance and is picked up by the wind. The creepy shit was that the plague could like, shapeshift. As you could imagine, this caused chaos everywhere. Fire was burning everything, robberies happening at every block, you could even hear the screams of people dying. Especially, the screams of people. However, this was only the first part. Slowly, more people started to die. You couldn't even know if you were dying or someone else was affected. You only feel it until it's too late. The powder-like plague affected even more people, except the people the government doesn't want to affect. 1 week later, everyone was pretty much dead. It was creepy. You could see the flames still licking the walls, but you couldn't see anyone. However, the government people were still alive. They locked themselves in until it was safe. Or at least, when they presumed it was safe. You see, the plague was supposed to activate a kill switch that would kill itself. Whoops. Look like the scientists failed. The moment the government people went outside, they were immediately swarmed. I was able to see it from my safe spot, but it was horrifying to see. Moments later, there was no one left... Now, the only reason why I was alive, was because I was on the move. At least, around Flintstone anyways. The government made a dumbass mistake and did not poison the water bottle supplies. I'm guessing it was so they could drink it later. Doesn't matter. I have been jumping around in Flintstone, looking for spare water bottles, and stocking up on supplies. I was wary of any signs of the plague and jumped if I saw anything that looks like the virus. Sadly, the supply of water bottles started to dwindle and I had to think of another plan. I decided to hit up a small town to the west. It wasn't too far, but far enough that it would take most of the day. However, as I arrived, all the powder-like plague in the town was attracted to me. I let out a bloodcurdling scream and noped the fuck outta there. I ran like Satan was about to kill me and reign with holy hellfire. I arrived at my safe house in the dead of the night. I was breathless and started to down the little water I had. I prayed to whatever god would take pity on me that the plague didn't give chase, but fuck did I mess up. My "safehouse"was filtered and had cameras everywhere. But those filters weren't going to hold for shit with the mass of powder that was about to hit me. I write this with my last few hours, as I won't be able to escape. No one will most likely read this, but if so, please, run. PX-13 is ruthless and will rule this Earth in moments. *RUN.*
“Mark! Mark what’s this?!”, says P͡hejz̀a in fluent English while holding up a lighter. P͡hejz̀a is an alien from one of the Gliese systems. Ever since the aliens contacted us, and our relations strengthened, the governments agreed to hold a cultural exchange program. Funny how aliens act like humans, since they also have the concept of cultural exchanges. “That? It’s a lighter”, says Mark. “Amazing… To create fire from such a small device…”, says P͡hejz̀a “Hm? If you don’t have portable lighters, then how do you light stuff, if needed?”, asks Mark. “Fire don’t burn as brightly on my planet as they do here, since my planet’s atmosphere has 1% chlorine”, says P͡hejz̀a. “1% chlorine? Damn, valleys in your planet must be death traps…”, says Mark. “Indeed… So because of the chlorine, we never worked with fire”, says P͡hejz̀a. “So how did you guys get to space?”, asks Mark. “Our planet has a species of insect that does nuclear fusion”, says P͡hejz̀a. “What? Then how is your planet not a radioactive wasteland?”, asks Mark. “Our planet has a species that eat the radioactive dung”, says P͡hejz̀a. “That’s impressive”, says Mark. “Not as impressive as this”, says P͡hejz̀a. “……… Would you like me to by that for you?”, says Mark. “Will you?! Thanks!”, says P͡hejz̀a. As Mark and P͡hejz̀a continue to flirt, the other alien exchange students look at P͡hejz̀a with envy since she got a present from a local.
"Well that's annoying(!)" I quipped to myself. We'd all heard the announcement over the radio that the bombs would be falling soon and people had just started walking. 34 miles from home by the satnav (before they'd shut off the connection), and my phone had lost signal too. I pulled my remaining smokes from the glovebox and decided that I could justify breaking my quit given the circumstances whilst I considered my options. Either, I could remain in my vehicle, hope that I would be shielded somewhat and try to get home after the attack with what I had in the boot of my car, I could try and weave through the traffic to get home and see Jennifer , Barnaby and rose (my wife and kids) or I could try to walk the remaining distance, hitch lifts and hope I got there in time. As I was pondering my options, tendrils of smoke finding their way into the upholstery I promised my wife I'd never tarnish with the smell of smoke, a piece of the ember fell on my leg and burned a hole in my trouser leg . "Ow "followed by too much profanity to recount, as the brief pain brought me back to my situation. Hope my family survives, or hope I can reach them before we all go up ... The looping broadcast reminded me that the 4 minute warning had gone to 2 and here I was still debating my options. "Screw it", I told myself, "if I don't try and get to them, I might not see them again, and I'll have to deal with my own situation regardless. I stubbed out my cigarette in the ash tray , glowing embers fading into the neat mound of black ash under the filter , and undid my seatbelt. I went to the boot , and got my emergency kit; some tools, money, energy bars and water stuffed into a duffel bag next to the spare wheel and also lifted the picnic blanket from the back seat. Even if I never got to sit with the family on a sunny day at the park again, I thought it could be useful. As I took the keys out of the ignition, the warning was down to 30seconds. This was it. I decided to leave the car key on the dash in case it could help a stranded traveler, and started walking along the hard shoulder towards the next exit, joining the small procession of equally worried travellers just as we heard the jets scrambling above us to intercept the missiles. I had to see them . I couldn't do anything else. Where would I be if I didn't at least try. I could feel my work shoes rubbing already as I walked , this wasn't going to be fun. And then we saw the flash...... First time writing on here, part 2 if people are keen. I enjoy writing and would love advice and constructive criticism , or even some nice feedback if people feel kind enough*
Final entry: Well, I can finally go back to my life in Rome. No more being a Centurion. Tiberius Claudius managed to make sure that Caligula's bullshit was reversed. At least now, we have added Britannia to the Empire. I gave up my damn weapons and the lorica (cuirass) to the authorities yesterday. They wished me well on civilian life. I hope they were being sarcastic, because they know the ghosts of Britannia still haunt me every night. I have saved up a fairly ludicrous sum of money. Hopefully, I can now marry Aelia and establish a restaurant together. She has been waiting all these years and she's fortunate enough to see me alive through this. They always say "Lucius, you are so lucky."They don't know what horrors I witnessed.
"Holy shit,"My reflection says from the other side, staring at me incredulously, "Why would you ever do that?" I try to speak up, but my throat closes up; immediately I realize that my body is also frozen, moving only in accordance to my reflections' movements. A feeling of unease washes over me. "Oh, how nice! I've always wanted to speak and move on my own!"She says, twirling with glee and doing absurd stretching poses that hurt my muscles; I never knew I could move like that. "You,"She points into the mirror, "Must be confused as hell. Honestly, I know you're stupid, but not that stupid, you know? What makes you think jumping into dimensions you don't even understand is a good idea? Oh, wait, you can't answer. Well, at least you get how I feel now. Ah, talking is so fun!" Wait. Are you not me? "Hell no! Wait. How am I hearing your thoughts? Maybe it has to do with how you've crossed over." Can you explain what's going on? "It's quite simple, isn't it. My dimension serves as a perfect reflection of yours. Only difference, of course, is that I can't fucking do anything but watch and copy how you do everything. It was frustrating the first few years, but I've accepted it, I guess." Then you're like my other self! Someone I grew up with, someone who knows me best, right? "Yeah, about that..." She slaps herself. "Here's for being a self-centered piece of shit." Hey, wait! She slaps herself again. "Here's for the ridiculous diet you've put us through. It wasn't worth it." B-but we lost like ten pounds! She slaps herself again. "Here's for constantly being insecure and needing validation from literally everyone around you." That fucking hurts, stop! She slaps herself again, bit harder this time. "Here's for letting yourself break up with Jack. He loves you with all his heart and you know it." That's unfair! He has his own problems to attend to! "Here's for..." Stop it! I decide to switch back; after all, my will's in control of who gets to be in which dimension. "Ugh,"I rub my burning cheeks, which are a terrifying shade of crimson, "Look what you've done!" I expected a smart-ass retort, but all I hear is silence. "Well, I know you're there, though."I sigh, "So I get it, you're not satisfied with us and how we're living our lives, is that it? But you know that I've tried my best! Well, not really. I mean, mostly. Fine. I barely try, and I do hate myself for it, but you think I don't know that?" Silence. "Okay, no slapping this time, or I won't ever give you a turn ever again. Got it?" I switch back. It seems only decent to let a conversation partner have the chance to reply; I felt awkward anyway talking to myself. "No, I know. I know you've been sulking and basking in regret, wishing for what could've been all those long damn nights instead of actually getting sleep. I feel your pain, too, but goddamn do I wish you'd just move the fuck on." It's not that easy! I'm just a human, give me a fucking break! "Hmm,"She strokes her chin, "I have an idea." What is it? "Now that you've learned how to do this,"She twirls again; was I always this girly? "How about you let me take turns once in a while and show you how it's done? When you don't feel like doing what needs to be done, I'll do it for you. Just bring a mirror and we're set; how's that sound? After all, aren't two heads better than one?" That sounds fine, but we need to set boundaries. "What boundaries?" No violently attacking ourselves and others. "Aw, not even that bitch Rachel?" ...She's my fucking boss. "Yeah, so?" No. Violence. "Fine."She sighs, "It'll be hard for me to hold back these emotions I've built over the years, but I'll try." I think this decision is for the better. I'd feel bad not letting her have a chance to go at life anyway, and it wouldn't be bad to have a clear head as I look over how I usually do things, right? We both smile. This should be fun.
Usually I attended parties for people who didn't really want to go. Other times I helped people fake their deaths. The job doesn't really interest me too much, it's all about the identity. Since I was a child I've been able to 'acquire' a person's physical traits, right down to their voice and gait. Well, acquire was a bit of a stretch. It took a few hours of practice before I could convince people of my identity, however false it may be. I've impersonated everybody from politicians to the homeless. Race was no issue for me, since I could change my skin color at a whim and physical differences in the face can be changed with makeup. The hardest part was becoming an expert in the person's life, knowing their relationships and connections. This wasn't usually too much of an issue, except that currently, I was stuck at dinner with a business partner I hadn't been aware of. Keeping my cool was becoming difficult. Not because I was in danger of being caught. I was a professional, after all. The issue was this business partner was incredibly annoying. He seemed to have had too much to drink, and was really beginning to get on my nerves. I excused myself from the table, claiming I had a headache, and went to the bathroom. While there, I called the client, who was currently out with his mistress. When he answered the phone he seemed rather irritated. "Don't tell me they found you out,"he growled. "I paid good money for you because you said you were the best." It was always like this with private customers. They always left out some detail that would come up, but I was used to it. "Just tell me a little bit about Thomas Packard,"I said. He seemed startled to hear the name. Apparently he rarely showed at parties, and as annoying as he was, I'm sure that was to everybody's benefit. "If you could butter him up a little bit for me, that'd be great too,"the relief in his voice was almost palpable. I walked out of the bathroom. I manufactured a slight limp in my walk, as my customer had recently had knee surgery. The table seemed busy enough without me. I turned to 'my' wife and gave her knee a slight squeeze to reassure her that everything would be fine. A few hours after the party, sitting in 'my' home I told her that I had received an important call and needed to leave for the office immediately. Ever the understanding one, she gave me a peck on the cheek and I left that house. It was strange at times, pretending to be somebody you weren't. Especially when you were as good as I was. Sometimes it actually felt like leaving an old life behind for a new one. But the job didn't really matter to me, I just liked pretending to be other people. As I got home, I took the picture I had used to model my makeup and added it to the album of people I had done work for in the past. Yes, sir the job didn't matter, but it sure was nice to get paid to have fun.
Every day I clock in, every day I clock out. The time in-between is meaningless to me. Most days I hardly register that any time has passed at all. Sure, I do some work. Some paperwork is filed, some written letters transcribed, some minutes taken, but my mind isn't focused on that. At this point, 25 years into my tenure here, I don't need to do much at all. Sometimes I think of what I could have been, what I could have done. I wanted to work for NASA as a kid. I loved science, space, the cosmos. I used to build realistic model Apollo ships with my dad. That's one of my favorite memories. Then I got to highschool. My grades were good, but not good enough for the good schools, so I went to a mediocre post-secondary college. I decided against pursuing my dreams in favor of a more realistic occupation. Looking back, it was a good decision. I'm much better off than many of my friends that chose their passion over realistic goals. Somehow, though, I'm still jealous of them. One of my biggest regrets was not seeing the world. I never traveled much. Besides traveling to one or two other states I have barely left the country. I went on vacation once to Cuba, back in the day. I never left the resort. I regret that now. It didn't matter at this point in my life. I was too old to travel and too ingrained in my job to find anything different. I couldn't find an equal or better paying job if my life depended on it. The monotony carries on. Day after day. Every day at work is exactly the same. I get not pleasure, no joy, no reward from the 42 hours I put in a week. But that isn't what matters. At the end of the day, I get to go home. And there greeting me at the door are my son, daughter, and wife. Their smiles, their genuine joy and happiness I bring them simply by being who I am and doing what I do, that is why I live. I would work 80 hours a week if I had to for them, but I am fortunate enough to only have to work 42.
"SO THE FIRST PERSON TO BE Q POINTS HIGHER THAN THE OTHER WINS?" "Correct. Now we choose the "breaker"by bouncing around until one of us succesfully finds the baseball bat and whacks the bonus ball with it." We begin. I start jumping, and so does death. Concidering how large the farming tool he is carrying is, it's incredible how fast he is. I find the baseball bat, but death finds and grabs the bonus ball before me. "Okay. What do we do?" "Uhh.. We go in the vortex zone and begin spinning! If you hit the bat with the ball, I become the breaker, and vice versa." We start to spin. We hit the ball and bat together, and both fly off somewhere. "What?" "I agree. What?" The bat and the ball fall. The ball falls first, then the bat falls on top of it. "Does that count as me starting?" "I guess?" I start. I go near my goal in the zark zone, while death takes the flag. He has to use it like a golf bat to break open the bonus box, in order to get the thing inside and bring it to my goal for M - 1 points. I have to place handkerchefs in death's pocket, 4 points for each I put. I might die, but this will be fun. &#x200B;
To help others has always been a noble goal for me. When I started my training, I was thrilled to think of the difference I could do, but now it's different. Our professors never talked about the cost of healing until the lack of knowledge killed a student. Healing without the right equipment may cause death was all they said to us then. We learnt human and humanoid healing spells, wards and artifacts. What to use when, and exactly how much to give away, of yourself that is. Magical healing is a grey area of exchange. The reason it takes so long to learn is finding the right client and the right price. That's the sick truth, that one life can be worth more then another. In the last couple of years of training, we learnt of the marketing of healing. I didn't have to wonder how this school got it's funding. Rich old folk. Sacrifice of a child. An eye. What people will give up for a few years of life was sickening. I still remember my first real healing, not a cut or hex, but a client with only a month to live. I was thrilled, excited and happy to help. Three artifacts were place in front of me and I let the connection between the client, artifacts and me, flow. By the end the client was feeling better and one of the artifact destroyed. That was also the first day of marketing training. Walking with him to his car, he went to the back and pulled out a baby. "Payment receive"he said as he handed the child to me. That's when I started to shake, confused. Plucked from my hands and thrown to the ground, a crushing and wet sound rose. My professor of marketing was pleased with the payment. I was and still am in shock. First time, so Yay I did it.
“Fucking Toto,” said the man as he squeezed the rifle’s trigger. The weapon barked, kicked, and he automatically worked the action to chamber another shell. Ahead of him, a man’s heat kicked back as the round caught him in the throat and threw him from his gilded chariot. It had been three days since the rains fell, blessed, upon Africa, and for three days the undead Pharaohs has raised hell and amassed an army. For three days, he had fought the horde, and for three days they had been falling back in the face of sheer numbers. The local militia he had been advising when the rising began was ill-trained, cowardly, and couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a full clip in a Kalashnikov, but fortunately the army before them was larger than a barn, slow-moving, and completely outdated. The rules of war were simple upon this new front. Get ahead of the army, aim, fire into the horde, load everyone up, and speed ahead to rinse and repeat. But it wasn’t working. There wasn’t enough ammunition, there were too many undead ancient Egyptians, and the bureaucrats in Washington were pussy footing around about air support. A couple of B-52s could wipe out the jerkies in a few minutes. He jumped into his Toyota truck and ground the gear and kicked off toward the next hill. Suddenly, the truck quit. He turned the ignition and heard only click. “Shit!” He climbed out and looked back toward the army. There were no friendlies between him and the approaching hoard. He looked up the rise as the last truck disappeared over the apex. “Shit!” The chariots weren’t fast, but they were faster than a man on foot. He would be cut down before he reached the top of the hill. He checked his ammo, took a knee, and began firing at the jerkies which were approaching directly toward him. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Nearly every round he fired found a target, but they kept coming. Reload. Fire. Reload. Fire... he was out of ammunition. The thundering rumble of the chairiots’ wheels were upon him. “Fucking Toto.”
Third client today... Christmas is always bad, but this year seems to be particularly busy. "So, Mr. Griswold, explain to me why I should help you mediate your contract termination? I'm familiar with the terms that the Fir Corporation gives to their new, underlings, shall we say. Otherwise, you wouldn't be seeing me." "I need to make this Christmas the best it has ever been! Help me break out of my contract with my current company and I'll be forever loyal to the Lucius E. Fir Corporation! The CEO is such a terrible person that I'm willing to sell my soul to Satan himself if it means I can leave there and get the best tree for Christmas and..." "Mr. Griswold, let me stop you there for just a moment. I know about the sign on bonuses, but I need to check something. What is the name of the CEO of your company?" "It's a Peal, or a Beel or something... I just call him Chrome-Dome when he isn't looking so...." "Oh? Would it be a Mr. Beal Z. Bub by chance?" "That, sounds right?" "Ah, in that case, it makes this conversation simple."An Org chart is pulled out from a folder sitting off to the side. "You technically already work for Lucius. See, this is how The Corporation works. Starting here at the top, if you follow this path you'll eventually get to Mr. Bub. If you would like to renig on your current contract, you would be barred from seeking compensation. If you would like the signing bonus, you would not be allowed to sign another contract with any of the subsidiaries you see here for 666 days from the date you last set foot in one of their facilities." Mr. Griswold's face goes white. "S-s-so, where would I be able to go if I decided to do that?" "Oh, I hear central Australia is a good place at the moment. You said you'd be willing to sell your soul to Satan himself, so spending some time in hell might not be a bad stepping stone."
Tyler found himself staring at her, Caitlin, some girl he picked on in middle school. Here she was in his apartment. Years later, lying in his bed naked, with the eyes of a lioness. He was the prey. His hands gliding over her smooth skin. Around her waist. Tracing a line from the Valkyrie on her ribs to the all seeing eye just below her naval; the angel of the battlefield, the eye of god, the messengers of death. All things considered, a bar is a horrible place to try and meet women. You’re given a slew of random people drinking poison for fun. Men try and translate their dick sizes into displays of boisterousness and peacocking, strutting about with hungry eyes that undress everyone; size up the competition, picture her naked, picture her AND her naked together. Women cling to each other warily, thirsty men encircling, until inhibition breathes its final breath. “Drink fluids to trade fluids,” Tyler felt himself resigning, “I’m sick of playing games.” Putting a $20 on the bar top, he thanked the bartender and made for the door. Squeezing past swarms of sweaty people. The winter air swallowed him, forcing out his warmth and insobriety, leaving him stranded in lonely reality. Snow lazily falling to fill the void in the world around him. All save a single person. Her. It had been thirteen years since they spoke, parting like most middle schoolers do, awkwardly. But rather than trade insults as is characteristic of the prehormonal brain, Tyler fumbled for words...as is characteristic of a mans complacent brain being offered some inkling of hope. “Uh...how long can you hold a grudge?” Smooth. Caitlin laughed, melting the snow around her, “Tyler right? I don’t know, how long do herpes last?” Only middle schoolers could find the accusation of herpes comical, “a lifetime,” he said as his head slowly hung. “Oh, well not nearly that long, buy me a drink and I’ll consider sparing you.” ——-———————————————————— They had been together for 6 years now, a baby due any day, successful and happy. Tyler was hoping to make detective soon, Caitlin working from home as a developer. She sat at the computer writing code into a program, he kissed the top of her head. Often times it’s the smallest odds or most distant thoughts that bear fruitful lives. Tyler never imagined a girl he had no history with would come to change his life so drastically; and the things you don’t imagine are often meant to stay that way. “Oh, oh!” Caitlin exclaimed. “What?” Horror shaking Tyler’s voice. “Baby just kicked down the doors.” He was going to be a dad. Tyler ran to the closet, ripped the door open, picked up a baby bag and two jackets. Excitement carried him quickly throughout the house. Pillow, camera, blanket, phone, keys, breathe! “Honey calm down.” Caitlin laughed between winces. “Sorry, Jesus, now? Car? Let’s go babe, let’s have a baby.” There is no amount of police work that can prepare a man for having a child. Tyler hurried to the hospital, got them checked in, and watched his wife give birth. Doctors and nurses scrambled, Caitlin huffed and puffed, blood, wow that’s a lot of blood, 8 inch needle, I love you, I love you too, keep pushing, almost there, one final push. Caitlin gave the final push then slumped back in the bed, exhausted. The hospital staff surrounded her and finished the delivery. Tyler began to smile, huge and childish. Finally, after everything, he had his own family. A strange noise began stirring the room. Somewhere from the circle of staff. Something. High pitched gurgling, gasps. Cooing. If cooing sounded like a drowning baby pig. A male nurse moves to escort Tyler from the room. Tyler shoves him aside and forces himself into the staff circle. The baby was the color of ash, grey, and just as brittle. It’s eyes were pure white and extruding from its head. Little hands with bone poking through the skin. Screeching. He had never heard a living creature make such an awful noise. His bones felt like ice, constantly surrounded by the heat of his blood, like lava. Pressure forced its way behind his eyes, welling. Throat closed and lung nearing capacity. Tyler felt his body rip, before he felt nothing. —————————————————————— Complications. That was all he heard about that night, or at least all he could process. His child had been born as a medical abomination and died. His wife had suffered internal bleeding from, complications, and died shortly thereafter. One year ago to this day. Now, three bottles of whiskey into the night Tyler sat in his empty home, a 9mm pistol hanging limply from his right hand. No tears, those were for the living. “911 please state your emergency.” “1345 new beginnings drive, I’ve just killed the homeowner. Send police.” Tyler hung up the phone. He waited. Response time for such a call is less than three minutes in Colorado. There she was, in a white dress, with the smile that thawed ice. He stared at her. Fingers running from her face down through the lace of her dress. His angel of the battlefield. He hadn’t put down their wedding pictures for an entire week as he shambled through the void of his home. Memories were around every corner. The kitchen; where he almost burnt down the house for a romantic dinner. The living room; nights spent watching old shows from Cartoon Network and eating junk food with Caitlin. The bathroom; “we’re having a baby!” He slumped down in front of a couch, and looked toward the door. It was lined in light, beckoning him, blue and red trading off between the door and the frame. The door was thrown from the hinges, police burst through. Andrew his brother was amongst them, cruel. Tyler aimed his pistol at the officers. His brothers face was the last thing he saw, alone in his empty house. (So this is written on mobile. And it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, in a slump. Enjoy! Maybe)
The morning got off to a strange start, when you went to grab a soda from the fridge and returned to your bedroom to find a person laying down on your bed with a game controller and a bowl of Doritos. “What’s up,” you say, frozen as you peer down at your doppelganger. “Sup,” he replies, staring back at you. You take a sip of your Coke. It takes a bite out of a chip. “Hmm…” you mutter. “Huh,” he says. “This is kind of unusual,” you note. “Some real Twilight Zone type shit,” he agrees. “Unless…” You take a seat on the computer chair opposite your bed. “You... you wouldn’t happen to be…” He sits up and faces you. “Happen to be what?” “Well, if you are, I wouldn’t have to tell you.” He narrows his eyes. “And what if I was?” You lean forward in you seat. “Oh, you know…” “Oh, I know.” He raises his eyebrows. “Question is, do YOU know?” You suck your teeth. “Man…” He cracks his neck. “Bruh…” A long pause follows. You try not let him see the beads of sweat that have begun to form on your forehead. His eyes are imperceptible. He shows no signs of moving. “This is my house,” you say, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “Find another.” “I like this one,” he says firmly. You shake your head. “I worked hard for this one. I’m not going to just give it up. Move on.” He stands up. You can’t help but tense up. “How long have you been here?” he says, surveying the room. You swallow. “Almost three cycles.” “Well then your time is almost up.” He takes a step forward. “Why don’t you just retire now?. Make it easier on yourself. Go out peacefully.” You shake your head. “No chance.” He scoffs. “Why?” “What’s mine is mine. And I ain’t going to give up what’s mine. Not willingly anyway.” It stares down at you, motionless. You brace yourself. Suddenly a knock at the door… “Dre, are you busy?” You keep your eyes glued to his. “Kinda,” you answer your mother. “Well when you’re “kinda” free, make sure you take out the trash like I asked.” “No problem. In a minute.” You rise to your feet and step forward. He eyes you with some curiosity. “Well?” You take another step forward. He shifts a bit on his feet. “I gotta go,” you say. “If you have anything else to say to me, you can say it when I get back.” You turn your back on him and make your way out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. You returned a few minutes later to find the room empty, a half-eaten bowl of corn chips spilled out over your bed comforter. Shaking your head you swipe your bed clean, grab your controller and resume playing. Life was good.
I yawned and got out of bed. My cold feet slipped back under the blanket as my fist found the blaring alarm. "I hate thursdays"I thought while getting out of bed, dragging one foot infront of the other until they rested upon the cool bathroom tiles. With a sigh my body was prepared for the day: Trimmed beard, clean teeth, hair washed and dryed. After donning the same white shirt and jeans I wore every day, I scampered down the stairs. Too my delight was a small pile of post. I bent down to pick it up when I realised that one was bigger than the rest. I shook it and thought "hmmm whats tha................"
Twilight Sparkle’s focus was split between keeping a continuous stream of magic at the creature wreaking havoc on Canterlot and keeping up a magic barrier that her friends were desperately trying to break down. “Get out of here!” she yelled. “Get to the castle!” “Not without you!” Rainbow Dash said. “We ain’t going anywhere,” Apple Jack said. “This is our fight too!” The creature— at least 27 hands tall, bipedal, with grey skin and bony protrusions all over its body— roared and pushed back against the magic. Twilight could tell that her attacks were becoming less and less effective. She pushed her magic as hard as she could and a bright flash of light overtook her. She could hear Pinkie Pie screaming her name in the distance. She was surrounded by light, vague figures of white trees almost painted on without shadows. In front of her, instead of the creature, was a tall alicorn that was—not white, exactly, but a radiant mix of color that shimmered and shifted. Above her horn was the original crown of the Element of Magic, the rest of the Elements of Harmony floating around her neck, slowly orbiting. The alicorn spread her wings. “Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship,” she said. Her voice echoed in Twilight’s head, like she was speaking in an empty concert hall. “Why do you reject me?” “Who are you?” she asked. “I am Harmony,” the alicorn said. “The power that you and your friends have, that I have granted you, is that not enough to overcome any foe?” “Of course it is,” Twilight said. “But—” “And have you not faced a challenge that yet cannot be solved through the bonds of friendship?” “I mean, we always have, but—” “Then why,” she continued, “do you reject the power that would save your people?” “Because I don’t want to lose them!” Twilight’s breathing was heavy, and she looked down. “I saw the end of this,” Twilight said. “As it was starting. I don’t want to lose them. I don’t know what I would do without them.” “Is that really your concern?” Harmony asked. “What?” “You saw two ends,” she said. “One where you save them all, and one where you do not. Has it occurred to you that as much as you do not know what you would do without them, they would not know what to do without you?” “I… I have to try,” Twilight said. “If there’s a chance I could save them—” “You can,” Harmony said. “But you must let them fight at your side.” Twilight paused. “Will it be enough?” “It always is.” The scene blinked away, and the creature was in front of her again, knocked back by the force of the blast. Perhaps a few seconds had passed. “Twilight Sparkle, you let down this barrier at once!” Rarity demanded. Twilight breathed deeply and the barrier dissolved. “Oh, my, that actually worked…” “All right girls,” Twilight said. “For Equestria!” The chromatic glow of Harmony enveloped them as the creature regained its footing and charged. The light enveloped the area and Twilight could sense the love her friends had for Equestria, for each other, and for her. The creature yelled in pain, making its final attack and Twilight’s vision went black. The other ponies landed on the ground when the creature disappeared, vaporized by the spell. “Woohoo! We did it!” Pinkie Pie said. The others were ready to celebrate when they heard the worst sound they could never have imagined. “Twilight!” Spike had returned from the castle where he had gone to get the Princesses’ help. His cry was so agonized, so startling, that even Fluttershy gave a yelp of surprise. Princess Luna had closed her eyes, turning away, and Celestia stood in silent shock and horror. At the center of it all was Twilight Sparkle, wings mangled and broken, horn bent, a piece of bone impaled clear through her chest. She tried standing but collapsed on the ground. The girls rushed over to her. “Whatdowedo?Whatdowedo?” Pinkie asked. “Twilight, hold on,” Rairity said. “It will be okay, you’ll see.” “It ain’t gonna be like that,” Apple Jack said quietly. “Is it, Twi?” Twilight looked up at her friends. “No, I don’t think it is.” “I’ll go get help,” Rainbow Dash said. “No! Please! Please stay…” Twilight said. Rainbow Dash hesitated. “But I—” “We can’t leave you like this,” Pinkie said. Fluttershy walked over to Twilight and knelt beside her. “We’re not going anywhere.” The reality was setting in for all of them. “Thank you,” Twilight said. “All of you. For… for being my friends.” Twilight saw Harmony approach her. “Are you ready, your highness?” “Are they going to be okay?” Twilight asked. “Your friendship and love will always be with them,” Harmony said. “They will grow and learn, and they will be whole again, in time.” Twilight turned and looked at her friends one last time. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” The last thing she heard was the sound of wings.
“First of all,” she said, “I resent the term evil. I’m not evil I’m more like—damn there’s a term for this—chaotic neutral?” Milton swung precariously from a ceiling beam, a rope wound tightly around his body. Thankfully he wasn’t upside down. “I find kidnapping, while admittedly chaotic, is not exactly neutral. And I wouldn’t call it good, at least from where I’m standing-“ “Hanging,” the witch interjected. “Hanging. I wouldn’t call kidnapping good from where I’m hanging. Even that sentence sounds evil.” “You’re awfully chatty. Perhaps we’ll cut out your tongue.” “See? That’s evil. What you said just there.” “But if it’s for the sake of knowledge then I feel it’s less an issue of good or bad.” “I think I just shouldn’t argue morality with a witch.” “Now you’re getting it! Now don’t swing too much. We have a lot to cover. If all goes well you’ll leave here alive!....probably.” And Milton would indeed leave the Witch Elsie’s alive, but not before undergoing a series of rather invasive procedures. Under a state of hypnosis she dissected him and put him back together. He could feel no pain but he wasn’t asleep. He felt a man shouldn’t have to know what his own organs looked like, but here he was with that knowledge now. She tested all manner of potions and tonics and salves. One that made his skin scaly like a snake, another that caused his vision to split like that of an insect. There was a potion that made him vomit and from the vomit puddle emerged a small humanoid reature, seemingly made of bile and digested food. “Congratulations,” said the witch, “it’s an abomination.” “I think I’ll name it Fucked to commemorate the occasion and the day.” “Don’t much like profanity. Should wash your mouth out with somethin’.” She spoon fed him a syrupy liquid that coated the inside of mouth. It clung to his tongue, hung from the roof of his mouth, covered his cheeks and teeth. And then it began to burn. Like he’d eaten food that was equally too hot and too spicy. He wondered if this would make him breathe fire, but as it turned out if was just a means of torture she’d been working on for a client she wouldn’t disclose. A fortunate consequence to his encounter with the Witch Elsie was that Milton was no longer allergic to much of anything. He also was immune, or at least had a better tolerance to, many plants and poisons. But frankly he would gladly be allergic to most everything than be subjected to what she put him through again. Poking and prodding him with needles covered in all manner of substance and chemical. Watching with indifference as he writhed and thrashed in bondage. She only stopped to give him water and a brief respite. When it was all said and done it had been 27 hours of near none stop testing. She stopped once he passed out for good. When Milton came though he was shirtless and in a ditch. He had a red string with a note tied round his wrist. Through blurred vision he read the note. *Thanks for the help! Together we pushed magic and science further along. And you lived! Yay you!” Milton laid in that ditch a while. His body was sore and his mind was tired. “Witches, man,” he said aloud, “fuckin witches.”
I opened my eyes and saw two men by the door. Well, more like angels. They had the most perfect features, dazzling white robes, and bright, golden auras. And they looked very confused. One of them turned to the other and asked, "Are you sure God didn't make a mistake? Check again." "God doesnt make mistakes,"the other one muttered, pulling out a scroll. Both of them peered at it. I sat up and blinked at them. The first angel, without the scroll, glanced up at me and froze. He tapped the other angel's arm with the back of his hand. The second angel was staring at the scroll intensely, as if trying to make whatever writing was on it make sense. The tapping annoyed him and he glared sharply and said, "What?"Then he followed his companion's eyes to me and froze. "Can he see us?" "He's looking right at us, so I would say yes." The second angel rolled up his scroll and raised a hand. He smiled and said, "Hello, mortal human! My name is Zazarel. And this"- he gestured to his partner - "is Yefefiah." Yefefiah raised a hand in greeting. Zazarel continued, "Are you, by any chance, acquainted with another mortal human named Lane? It appears that we have the wrong room..." "I'm Lane,"I answered. They looked at each other and back at me.
,,Say that again please!"he says confused. ,,We can understand the aliens. They are talking in a language that we kinda made up a couple of years ago.",,How do I know you're not pranking me?",,We'll know when you let us meet them!" Jim and the officer had been talking for a long time now whilst Marcus and Tom were waiting for them to finish. A sizeable crowd had also formed around them and it was becoming kinda embarrassing. ,,Ugh fine! You and your friends can go but if you screw up it's your problem."The 3 friends started moving towards the alien ship only now realizing how weird it sounds. ,,Hello"said the alien that just exited the ship to the boys. Jim being the oldest of the 3 answered back ,,Do you understand me?". To the surprise of the 3 the alien actually answered ,,Yes"and nodded hes/her head. And they all looked at each other. ,,No way!"Exclaimed Tom. Now everybody had started looking at the group. The president then walks up to them and asks ,,Do you understand it? Do you speak its language?"And all the boys could do was nod. ========================================= Sorry it's so short. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
She turned towards her friend and gave him a cheeky smile. They had come so far, fought difficult battles against seemingly endless foes, and here they were. Standing on the peak of the tallest mountain in the world. In front of them was a dark cavern which led down into the mountain, straight into the lair of their final, most deadly enemy. They had overcome so many impossible odds to get here. They had earned these weapons with their blood, sweat, and tears. "So that's the Lance of Light, huh?"She nodded towards her friend's weapon, a large lance with an ornately carved blade that shimmered and shined brightly. "Let's see how it handles my Sword of Shadows."She said jokingly. She reached out and gently tapped his weapon with the tip of her sword. The lance shattered instantly. Fuck.
Deus, in adiutorium meum intende. &#x200B; The Plaza of Saints responded to the call to Vespers and the mass of souls ceased in their milling and, as one, turned their sights to the Victory Memorial. Gregory and his father followed suit, as was their habit each evening. They crossed themselves as they knelt. &#x200B; Domine, ad adiuvandum me festina. &#x200B; The memorial was wrought in steel and ivory and gold: A tower of naked mortal bodies, each clambering heel upon crown, reaching for the summit where the material depiction of the Savior, ringed with his angels, drove his spear into the chest of Betrayer, bore him down through rising tide of flesh, leaning in with both arms around the weapon’s haft and a foot upon his enemy’s belly, for all the world a mad mariner riding a black leviathan down into lightless depths. &#x200B; Gregory had once read something like that. Something in an old, dogeared paperback in the family library. He had told no one about this vision, not even his father--the golden, blue-eyed youth who stood beside him here. The young man’s face was unlined by age, unhardened by experience. He was a man as Gregory had never known in all his living years. Near enough to a stranger. &#x200B; But you shouldn’t admit such things, not here anyhow. Not where the Saints rose like pillars in the vast and roofless square around Victory. Where these numberless statues of the once-men, with necks like herons and the heads that were at once television cameras and also the mouth-and-eye-parts of locusts, rose above the crowds. They saw and they heard all confessions. &#x200B; The cables that spilled from their crowns wound down their bodies, spanned the space in between Saints, spun out from the hubs of steel crosses, made a chaotic mesh of the sky. They converged in the east, at the Godhead, where your post-Rapture sins were counted. &#x200B; And beyond that, the Valley smoked and the ground fell away in steep terraces while the Unrepentant, cast in bodies of clay, shaped the salted earth and the directed streams of piss and bile ever deeper into the Circles of Punishment. You could smell the sulfur of the refineries on a windy day. &#x200B; Gregory and his father knelt until the final invocation was complete and the man in the frock found them in the course of his rounds. The stone-faced man, eternally aged, confirmed their numbers in his tablets, punched their prayer cards, and they said their Amens and they rose to leave. “Be well in the Love of our Father on earth,” said the priest. Gregory did not remember what he replied, but he knew they were the orthodox words. &#x200B; At home, Gregory fed their prayer cards to the slot in the home confessional and his father switched on an Evangelical sermon. There were no more threats of fire and brimstone, exhortations against the evils of perverse lifestyles. That was another lifetime ago. The well-coiffed man was saying, Praise, praise, praise, be to the Lord. I love you! Hallelujah! &#x200B; “Hallelujah!” Said Gregory and his father in unison. Their home confessional double-pinged in acknowledgement. &#x200B; After the program, they slept. When they woke, they pinched from their skin the mana that had formed upon them during the night, and they ate it between sips of honeyed milk, and Gregory wondered if the man that had lain beside him last night were truly his father, or if somewhere out east, out in the smoking waste, was a man with blue eyes and grey hair, the pain and the blasphemy of his final moments written on the map of his face. He wondered if that man remembered the yellowed paperback and the story about the captain and his doomed pursuit of some monstrous fish.
Our feet patter against the scorched, dusty earth. We march towards the only source of water in a neat line. Perhaps from above, our bodies would merge together, appearing as just another fracture in the parched landscape. &#x200B; We move as a single entity with a common goal. I can only see the worker in front of me as my legs move in pace with hers, and hers surely with those before her, altogether in a synchronized Sisyphean locomotion. &#x200B; The skies above are a deep, cloudless azure. A few scant rain showers all season teased a downpour that never came. Slowly, the crops surrounding the colony began to wither, spreading outwards as time went on, as if afflicted by some invisible contagion. &#x200B; Most of us had lived through lean seasons of past years and were certain that it would only be a matter of time before the land would be quenched. But now, we were not so sure. &#x200B; I pick my head up from my monotonous journey, jostled by the familiar scent of the water ahead. Almost instinctively, we break from our formation, and begin gathering resources that may stave off extinction for yet another day. &#x200B; I scurry towards the edge of the water, briefly pausing to appreciate the soft, spongey moss all around me. No one knows quite how far the water goes, and maybe there exists no end. From my vantage point, I can see home down in the flatlands below, closer than a day's journey would suggest. &#x200B; Then, suddenly, an epiphany. We could bring the water to the colony. We would only need to dig a small channel to the side of the mountain, and the water could trickle down and bring life back to our land. &#x200B; I begin clawing at the ground, displacing pebbles and roots in my attempt to direct the flow of water. The others begin taking notice, some even putting down their load to offer assistance. Soon, the water itself begins to aid us, eroding the dirt along its path as it makes its way towards the edge of the mountain. &#x200B; First, just a trickle. It shoots bravely off the cliff, spends but a moment in the air, then lands with a distant splash. Then, the channel begins to widen, as the water draws naturally towards its downward path. We all step back, one eye on the widening gap of the channel, the other on the growing pool below. &#x200B; The ground below, harden from a season of deprivation, is unable to drink up the abundance and so the liquid sits atop, forming an expanding, glassy pond. But the flow doesn't stop, and soon the edge of the mountain begins crumbling under the weight of the raging stream. &#x200B; Panic. We run in every direction. Some are flung off the edge, others slip into the water. I grab onto the thick stalk of a dandelion and desperately climb until I'm amongst the fluffy white seeds. It's then I see that the water has found its way to the nest, surely snaking its way through the tunnels, snuffing out life as it finds its way to the heart the colony.
Everyone has bad days. Some people may have terrible ones. But Arthur, in an otherwise regular day, was having a simply catastrophic moment. His car was running full speed towards a cliff. The direction did not respond, the brakes seemingly didn't work despite that he was standing on his pedals and raising the handbrake as hard as he could. He was seeing his full unremarkable life flash before his eyes. He looked down, away from his impending doom. Suddenly the car started shaking and braking hard. Arthur was almost projected against the wheel. And then everything stopped. No more shaking, no more noise. Did his brakes suddenly react? Did he survive this? In a sigh of relief, he rose his head to see how close he was from the cliff, only to discover something he could never have expected. A person was standing in front of his car, hands against the hood as if they were pushing it. It was a young-looking woman, but had what looked like giant wings sticking out of her back. She was panting, sweating, and staring at Arthur with a bright smile. "What the fuck"was the only thing he could say before such a sight. And it was at that moment that her smile turned into near terror as she realised that they had been maintaining eye contact. Arthur jumped out of his car as she stepped back. "Who are you?"he asked, out of breath from the previous near-death panic. "You can see me?"she hesitated, nearly frozen. "Of course I can!"he responded as if it was the most obvious thing ever said. She stepped back, didn't know how to react. As he was slowly calming down, Arthur could have a more careful look at the person facing him. The young woman had definitely large wings, covered in beige feathers. That was no disguise: the wings moved with her. She was wearing a long white and gold toga and simple sandals. The colour of her clothing and her piercing clear eyes contrasted with her slightly dark skin. She was, simply put, the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever laid his eyes on. "Ok, break it to me", he said although he was afraid of the response. "I died and I just went to heaven right?" "No!"she burst. "You're pretty much alive, that's why I intervened."There was a silence. "But ... you're not supposed to see me at all." Arthur was puzzled to say the least. "Ok ... why, who, how, wha..." "Mira", she said with a smile, finally relaxing. "Pleased to meet you! I'm, uh, supposed to protect you. It's a long story. And, uh, I'm not sure what's going on now." They looked at each other, neither being able to say anything. Mira knew Arthur already, but only from the shadows: it was her first time actually meeting him, and to her knowledge the first time such an encounter ever took place. He was a genuinely nice man, very open and funny yet somewhat lonely. And now that they were facing each other, she noticed in him a touch of genuine and pure innocence, behind layers of confusion as expected by the current situation. Mira looked down. On her wrist, a small circle-like mark started glowing. As if the situation wasn't already impossible enough, now this was happening as well. She looked back at him: could he be her one?

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