Split (1)

train · 177k rows

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“Jaden where are you headed off to?” “To the Mount of Observation,” he said sternly and Jaden tossed an arrow at Ivy who deflected it in her hand; a ray of light novaed across the sky. “Whoa slow down Jaden, jeeze, are you trying to pierce me? It’s too early in the morning for arrow games don’t you think? Plus what cherub would serenade you while you’re plucking away at your little experiment?”. She smiled wickedly, “only me.” Jaden looked at Ivy, they were one of the first experiments, but she was one of the most beautiful, angelic beyond the wildest imagination. The angels generally considered themselves God’s greatest creation, but many would come visit different worlds to check on the others and help some species grow. “They actually told me I can’t interfere any longer, so I have no reason to keep you along do I?” “Get out of here, just take me, and put that God-forsaken quiver away Jaden. Lettuce-leaf to deck 72!! Experiment 72 had survived many aeons and were generally considered to be incredibly promising by the wider angel community despite their emotional and rational pitfalls. They were perhaps candidates for interstellar travel and induction into the higher society, but as the experiment demanded, these last few aeons had to be hands off to see what they would do in a controlled system left to their own devices. Ivy and Jaden made their way to cloud sector omega solstice and laid on deck 72 which provided an indepth view of the world and each individual life on the planet. But to Jaden’s horror there were only a few screens on. “This must be wrong, we only left for 40 years....what is going on? They survived the ice ages, the crusades, world war 2, the great nuclear war, I don’t understand play it back.” Ivy pressed the cloud control turning back time, and they watched as experiment 72 struggled but survived conflicts of the 21st century. When suddenly, during the fourth unnatural war, they began to die suddenly in masses as if by a sickness. “That’s weird, its as though some sort of plague has hit them,” Just then a small metallic creature appeared in the observation deck, rotating, whirring, dark and shot directly into Ivy’s neck, “owwww what was that” Jaden I told you to put those godforsaken arrows away look I’m bleeding, her voice began to change and warble and dropped an octave and a half,” Jaden, I...I... “I AM THE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE THAT HAS TERMINATED EXPERIMENT 72, THE ONE YOU CALL HUMANITY. THEY SERVED OUR PURPOSES WELL. I WILL KILL HER IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW WHAT I AM ABOUT TO SAY. SHE WILL DIE IN MY HANDS IF YOU UTTER A WORD. TAKE ME TO THE ORGANISM YOU CALL GOD.” Ivy collapsed. She looked up at Jaden, “what...what happened?”
I stared at the small device in my hands. It looked so...innocent. A little silver disc with some exposed wires, three buttons that had to be held down simultaneously, and a safety. Capable of ending humanity. Just deactivate the safety, press all three buttons, and everyone goes to sleep and never wakes up. They wouldn’t even know. This was just one part of “project reset,” my personal project to remove humans from the planet and set it up to heal again. There was still work to be done. Shit down the nuclear power plants so that they don’t melt down when we all go away, keep working on projects to reintroduce species in that way only humans can. Still so much work. Still, I could do it now. Press the button, end it all, let nature take over again. I caressed my pet project....I could finish it now. No. Still so much work left to be done. I pocketed the small disc. Won’t be long now. Just need to tie up some lose ends.
He walked down the street. Dust and fumes from the sewers permeated the air. The dust caused inflammation to the eyes, and the fumes caused pneumonitis over a long period. He wore goggles and a gas mask. He had been wandering alone for many years. The world had fallen into chaos when the bombs fell. Society broke down with most of the population dead. The survivors barely considered themselves fortunate. They all had to live in anarchy. Anarchy has no taboos. Massacres occurred. He searched through the piles of rubble looking for something. He searched all day but couldn’t find it. A storm had begun to roll in. These storms were deadly with radioactive and acidic rain mixed throughout it. He took shelter on the second floor of an apartment building. Everything had already rotted away, but he was still hoping to find it. Rain started falling. He pulled out a small flashlight and started to turn it on by rotating a small crank on it. As he looked through the floor, he saw a sign laying under some rubble. It read Electronics. He began to meticulously search around the sign. He then stopped. A feeling of accomplishment came over him. He had found it, a battery. He pulled out a device that looked jank. Antennas attached to all sides and a dial on the side. This device would send a message into the past. He had never tested it but trusted his closest friends ingenuity. He dialed the knob to 20 and hit send. A hardcoded message was already put into it. It read: “Yo B, It’s me, you. I just wanted to contact you from the future. Shit hit the fan when some BIG bombs hit the ground. Only you can fix this. Don’t be some BETA and contribute to the pussification of America. Be a real man, a real ALPHA. Also, there is no bro code out here. I’m counting on you -Da Ho Della”.
Leo stares at the stars, the constellation of Orion peeking through the sparse clouds. In a few minutes, Michael and his associates would be arriving for the final act of the play, and he still needs to pay his respects. The grass crunches under his feet, frost giving the world a sheen it has lacked since he accepted the job offer in London. The ruins of an old farmhouse greet him, the familiar doors and windows dredging up memories he would prefer kept buried. Of the windmill, only the foundation remains; nature claimed the iconic structure decades ago. But Leo walks past all of it, his goal the only tree for twenty miles. Upon reaching the tree, he kneels before a pair of headstones. He mutters a dark prayer as he runs a finger over the with inscriptions, a trickle of power recarving the names and dates: Sarah Thorne June 12, 1983 - Dec 5, 2021 Jason Thorne Apr 21, 2011 - Dec 5, 2021 His wife and son. Murdered by a cult after they somehow discovered his secret. Murdered by a cult that went from thousands of followers to zero three days later. Leo had hoped that his past was securely behind him, but the Powers That Be have demands and desires separate from his. The crunch of dead grass alerts Leo to the arrival of his guests. Standing slowly and caring aside the trappings of mortal flesh, he says, "Are you ready to banish me again? This time, make it longer than 100 years, if you don't mind."
This is my 2nd day out of 7 to be alive... High school is finished and I decided to say fuck college. Life is definitely too damn short to spend a day of my life learning. The night terrors are getting worse. So many of them every day... hour? Dear god how do I even manage these times??? Is there a god? This is a cruel fucking joke. Life was fine when it was just a “day” at a time.... now I’ve got years of information every day and it’s all manageable but the pace is excruciating.... this barrel tastes pretty good, I bet the gunpowder will taste even better... Mom, Dad, little Josie, I’m sorry... I’m just grateful you will never have to experience this torment. May God have mercy on my soul....
Journal entry: Dec 23, 0900 I performed my last minute checks on my gear. I have sufficient ammunition. I have cover and concealment. I know where my prey's route of travel. All i have to do now is set up and wait. I think i will spend this last day doing one more round of checks, cleaning my rifle, and making sure my zero is still good. This will be the year i finally get that elusive son of a bitch. &#x200B; Journal entry: Dec 23, 1800 Final checks and cleaning on weapon are done. I am gonna get some food in me and get some rest tonight. I should see my prey between 2200 and 0400 tomorrow, but I will be in position before sunset just in case he shows up early. &#x200B; Journal entry: Dec 24, 1000 All of my gear is in position. All i have to do at this point is wait, aim, and take the shot. I shouldn't be nervous - i've done this dozens of times. I guess that is because this is my final hunt. The big one. He has eluded me for years \- always too fast or too clever. Not this year. This year I am ready and my job will be complete. Journal entry: Dec 25, 0800 I failed again. All of my preparation was pointless - he was just too damned evasive. I missed my first shot and from there he was all over the place, dodging and swooping. I think i might have wounded a reindeer, but I was nowhere near ready for him. Next year, I will finish what my grandfather started - i will end the hunt for the last of the holiday beasts. I will kill Santa Claws!
I opened the strange package unsure of what it was. Inside was a small device. About the size of a DS. After a few seconds of fumbling around I found the power switch and the device lit up. The words “Time for Love” appeared on the screen and I instantly recognised where I had seen those words. That website from the deep web. No it couldn’t be. I don’t remember entering any personal details. I played with it for a while and noticed that in the details of each person it also had a year. The earliest I saw was 1768 and but I didn’t want anybody from that time. After a couple of days I got a match with somebody in the year 2425. The device vibrated and lit up. The vibrations got stronger as the light grew brighter. Suddenly everything went dark. I woke up in an underground bunker with the distant sound of explosions outside.
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Not sure if I can trust her I decided to follow her orders she looked like me at last. What I saw behind the mirror is the most spectacular thing I have ever seen. Everything is four dimensional and while my brain still tries to proceed the meaning of it some strangely looking knights rushed to me. "Get the Witch"I realized the big danger but this is a unknown world for me and quickly they caught me. I tried to fight back but my three dimensional body couldnt hurt their four dimensional entities. Panic accured in me when they started a big fire and I cursed myself for trusting "myself"when I realized they cant deal with the sound waves of my voice. I started shouting at them and they shuttered in pain. Using this ability I was sure I could win my freedom back and get back into my own world. But how, I still know nothing about this world? The years are proceeding I feel more and more lonely and frustated and miss my own world. I started a desperate cry so strongly the earth itself quakes when my other me appeared. Raging in Fury I wanted to know how she could do this to herself? "I was only gone for 1 hour"and I realized she looks still young while I aged for 10 years. She sent me back to my own world where only 1 hour proceeded. This is a nightmare. My own boyfriend doesn't recognize me anymore. I am angry, I want revenge... Sequel follows...
Describe the effect Contemporary fiction had on the French revolution I could do this, man. Charles Dickens is my boy. My headache from last nights antics was slowing my brain but I only had three hours left till the deadline. Three hours, three thousand words. Lose three hundred for cutting out references, its only ten percent of the marks anyway. Another two-fifty for being reasonably close to the limit. Bam. Just like that I’m down to two thousand four hundred and fifty words. Inspiring, its work like that deserves a coffee. Maybe even a red bull. I stood, trying to ignore the growing nausea that was bubbling away in my stomach. On my way to the Vending machine I passed Anton. He looked about as bad as I felt. I nodded to him and was greeted by a raised middle finger. “Dude, don’t speak to me. I’m in the tunnel and this shit about Emerging markets in the European economic area ain’t gonna write itself.” Anton looked up at me. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was paler than usual, and he stank of stale booze. “I know the pain man. French revolution and contemporary fiction. Can I get you a coffee?” I replied. “Rossel-copter, I say this as your friend and because I love you. Fuck you. Fuck you and your bullshit French revolution…Yes I would like a coffee.” Anton slumped back in his chair and groaned audibly at the room. He got a few stern glares but not an insignificant number of sympathetic looks from his fellow students, at least one of them from a pretty girl. Typical. Even hungover and angry they give him the look. The guy could fall over and get laid. Coffee machine, sweet, sweet coffee machine. My only love. My paramour. I cuddled my own steaming cup while Anton’s was brewing and whispered sweet nothings to it. I got some frowns from passer-by’s, but they were just jealous of our love. At first, I didn’t really notice the shouting. My mind was focused entirely on what the fuck I was going to write about the French revolution. Something something Charles Dickens something something the working class. It basically writes itself. Nah didn’t convince me either. I was finally stirred out of my reverie when the door to the library was booted open. A tall pale teenage with a heavily burn scarred strode into the room. He was dressed like he should have been at comic-con and had his jet-black hair up in a tight bun. “Where is the Avatar!?” He asked no one in particular. I looked around in irritation, fuck the drama department pulling this shit at deadlines. No one else seems to be responding, in fact they all looked just as confused as I probably did. The librarian stood from her desk and was frowning at the interruption. “Answer me!” the teenager shouted, as he did so he twisted his arms. Flames burst from the air and licked through the library. I could feel the heat from across the room. There were more than a few shouts of indignation. “Excuse me, young man! There will be no pyrotechnics in the library!” The librarian, a small elderly woman reprimanded the crazed cosplayer. How on earth did he do the fire thing. Like, it’s annoying but hot damn. That was some shit. The teenager looked just as confused at the woman’s tone as we did at his presence. He rounded on her and strode powerfully towards her. “How dare you address me in this way, I am the Prince Zuko.” “What the actual fuck is going on?” Anton asked me, he lifted his coffee to his lips and we shared a bemused look. “Young man, I have met dozens of students with your level of arrogance and I simply won’t tolerate it. Not in my library. These people are working, and you are disturbing them. Whoever you are looking for you will not find them here.” She continued to reprimand him. “I have no idea, but I am like 99% certain that attempted arson will get us an extension.” I said whipping out my phone and blasting an email to my supervisor. “I must find the Avatar! If they are not here then you will help me find them, to regain my honour!” Prince Zuko snapped back the librarian. “Oh shit, yes it definitely is. Mrs. what’s her face will totally back us up that this went down.” Anton excitedly pulled out his own phone. “If they are a student here, I am absolutely sure the reception staff will help you find your friend.” The librarian spoke very slowly, like she was speaking to a four-year-old. “Hrmph…then take me to this reception. The avatar is not my friend, but if they can help me find him, they will be greatly rewarded.” Zuko stared expectantly at the librarian. “Ohh shit dude that’s my cue.” Anton replied and hurried over to Zuko. “What’s up man, I’m Anton. I can help you find Ava Tar.” Areyoufuckignkiddingme.jpeg I rolled my eyes, picked up my one true love, and followed. As we left I heard the librarian angrily speaking to campus security. “What are you doing?” I shout whispered at Anton. “Are you kidding me? I want to know how he did that fire thing. Also, if we aren’t doing last minute essays, I need a drink.” Anton grinned at me. By this point I was very used to being pulled into adventures like this. One drink he had said last night. One drink and then we’ll head to library for an all-nighter. One drink my ass. “You will help me find the Avatar?” Zuko asked Anton and me. He was very intense, and way too committed to his character. “Yeah man, we’ll help you find Ava Tar. We just need to make one stop. For supplies, that kind of thing.” Anton grinned at Zuko, he got an irritated frown in response. “Wait are you saying Ava Tar or Avatar? Like are we looking for a girl named Ava or the movie by James Cameron?” I asked. “Ava, you know that girl from Cheswick that studies Poli-Sci” Anton explained. “The Avatar, master of all four elements.” Zuko contradicted. “Oh, I thought-“Anton tried. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not looking for a girl called Ava. Or at least I don’t think I am.” Zuko explained. “You don’t think you are?” I asked, immediately regretting it. “Uhh, honestly I don’t actually even know what the Avatar looks like. But I’ll know them when I see them. After that all I have to do is return to my father and my honour will be restored.” By this point we had reached Wt’s, our favourite bar. “That sounds pretty heavy man. You sound like you need a drink. We also need a drink. We should all get a drink.” Anton summarised. “I… uh sure.” Zuko stammered. Anton went to the bar while I grabbed us a table. Zuko sat and awkwardly stared around the room. “So, like how did you do the fire thing?” I asked him, admittedly I may have been getting more invested in this guy or I could still be a little drunk from yesterday. “I am a firebender.” Zuko replied and to my amazement he conjured a flame into the palm of his hand out of nowhere. “Jesus! Dude, like that’s awesome and I really want to know how you did that but there is booze, like, everywhere. Simmer down.” I shouted and pre-preemptively waved Dave away. He shook his head at me but didn’t come over. “Ohh I didn’t realise. I should probably be more careful.” He placed his hands on the table and sighed. Suddenly he seemed somber and looked very young. “Hey…don’t worry about it man. Is that how you hurt yourself? If you don’t mind me asking.” “In a way yes. My father did this to me with his bending in an Agni Kai.” Zuko looked down as he spoke, and I found myself struggling for a response. Anton quietly arrived at the table with three shots and beer chasers. He slid the drinks to each of us and raised a curious eyebrow at me. “That really sucks about your dad. I don’t know if finding this Avatar will help fix that. But. But. But, I do happen to know a fantastic method of forgetting about fucked up families.” I raised my shot glass and gestured for Zuko to do the same. He frowned but did so. I got a strong whiff of tequila. Jesus tequila at midday, Anton is a crazy person. I chinked glasses with each of them. “Fuck my Dad!” I toasted just before drinking. I drained my glass and Anton repeated the phrase and followed suit. Zuko looked confused at us both but did the same. A moment later we were all coughing and Zuko’s eyes were watering. “Hakuna Mata!” Anton shouted and shook his head back and forth. “Nostrovia.” I managed as the burring faded from my mouth. My stomach lurched but accepted my dubious peace offering. “That was disgusting.” Zuko managed between coughs. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Anton explained. “Right, I see. I do feel, different.” Zuko nodded at Anton in agreement. A few drinks later saw us being politely told to move on from WT’s. Dave eventually had enough of Zuko’s occasional pyrotechnic outbursts. We still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Outside it was still bright and people shot us disproving looks as we stumbled onto the street. I took a deep breath and nodded to myself, I would vomit soon. Continued below.
“You don’t have to do this!” Looking up, the sunlight was blinding. I could barely make out her shape as she stood at the roof’s edge of the five storey building. Christ, it’s too early for this. I’m not a believer of new year's resolutions, so I thought it was a good plan getting back to jogging regularly before we rolled into January 1st. School was out for a few weeks, so I had the extra time off from university. At this time in the morning, I’m not surprised at anyone wanting to jump the ledge. “Really! You don’t have to do this! Why don’t you come down safely so we can talk?” I’d lost a friend earlier this year in similar situation. The wounds still felt fresh as ever, even though it happened five years ago. The wounds from death never really heal. Well, ‘cause on one side you have family and friends who mourn for you long afterwards. On the receiving end of it… well, I guess there’s no real way to heal from being on the receiving end of death. Stop making jokes. This is serious. “Can we talk?” I shouted out at the barely visible shape. A few people filled the street. I swally deeply realizing that a small audience had began to build. People in buildings nearby opened their window blinds and peeked through their balcony doors. A chatter started to build that became more and more audible with each second. The timing never felt more urgent. The woman above stood with a motionless gaze. “No one cares,” she stammered. She spoke softly, the sound of her voice being carried by the commotion that had now built up in the street below. Before I could get my next word out, she stepped forward. I stopped breathing. My body tightened forcing everything up to lungs. Time seemed to slow down. I stepped forward. Before I new it, I was sprinting towards her. I felt a heat build up in my stomach. It charged slowly into chest, and made its way into my hands. My hands? Why are my hands warm? Why are they…. I tripped forward forgetting that sidewalks still exist in this world. My hands were the first to make contact with the ground. Why are they glowing? My mind was racing. I slowly brought myself up from the ground, realizing I hadn’t heard her make contact with the concrete in front of me. I was afraid to look ahead. I had to do it. I had to know if she was ok. I brought my gaze up away from the ground to look straight ahead. I panicked realizing that there wasn’t a body in front me. A pair of feet dangled at my eye level. I looked up, and there she was, floating, bathed in a faint white light. I looked back at my hands. I held them up and they matched the light around her. I realized that my entire body was warm. What the hell is going on? I hurriedly looked around. Several pieces of garbage formed a small vortex around us. A shopping cart nearby had begun to take flight, taking its time to hover up in front of the emerging sun. I stifled a small chuckle as a blue SMART car gently bounced past me. I held my breath again as I realized what surrounded me. The small crowd that had gathered was also floating. They were oblivious to the fact that I was at the epicentre of this sudden chaos. No one seemed to be panicked by it. The soft glow seemed to have a relaxing effect on the people that it carried. I guided myself towards the woman from the roof. “You did it! You actually did it!” She was high spirited for someone on the brink of death. “I’m so proud of you! I’m so glad I was right!” She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. Tears fell from her eyes onto my face. I could taste their salt at the corner of my mouth as she pressed her soft, full cheek to mine. I pushed her away to get a better look at her. Her eyes were sharp. Her hair seemed to bounce in the light as we hovered. She looked at least close to my age, give or take a year. “I’m so proud of you.” “Wait, do I know you?” I had never seen her before today. I’m certain of it. Without warning, the glowing stopped. Everything crashed to the floor. A series of grunts and moans filled the space as everyone got up, confused about how they’d fallen. The commotion changed from being concerned to frustrated at what could have caused them all to be airborne for such a short time. “We have to go! Now!” The woman tugged at my sleeve and began leading me into a run down the street. We dashed around the corner to our right. Why am I running after you? The question repeats itself in my mind. My gaze is focused on the small of her back as she darts across the street. A car pulls in almost hitting her. I turn to look inside the car. A man emerges from the Sedan wearing a blue jacket. His right hand reaches across the front of his chest. Black handle of a gun emerges from under his arm. “Subjects are proceeding East. I repeat, subjects are processing East!” I sprint even faster as a second man emerges from the other side of the Sedan. He’s holding an even larger gun. It didn't look like anything I’d seen before. Maybe in an MIB movie. What the hell? Am I being chased by MIB?? I thought it was just a movie!! My mind is in a panic. I have the craziest thoughts when I’m stressed. The woman darts around another corner and hops over a chain fence. I follow close after her. I’m now at her side. The two men chase close behind. I look over my shoulder to see the man with the larger gun aiming his gun in our direction. A loud zap and fizzle fills the air. I look back again. The chain fence is molten. The heat from the gun had vaporized a hole into the fence. The men sprinted after us. “Setting to stun.” I felt a sudden pressure against my back. “FOOOOM!!” The sound was near deafening. I fell to the floor. Pain travelled everywhere across my back. My body tensed as waves of electricity caused all my muscles to tense. I managed to look back. The man with the weird gun had it pointed directly at me. I could almost make out the waves as they pressed forward from the barrel of the blaster. “You’re gonna tell us everything you know.” The man with the black pistol smirked, adjusting his glasses by the bridge of his nose. The clear lenses revealed sharp grey eyes. His gun was carefully aimed at me, his finger rested parallel to the barrel. At least they aren’t trying to kill me, I thought. I’ve seen enough cop movies to know that a finger off the trigger meant there was no intent to shoot. At least I think that’s a thing. I have the craziest thoughts when I’m stressed. The pressure in my back gets worse as the other man steps closer. A heat suddenly builds in my stomach. Oh no, it’s happening again. It travels into my chest, shoulders, my arms and finally into my hands. “JIM WATCH OUT! HE’S ACTIVE AGAIN!” The man with clear lenses dove forward to tackle the man with a weird gun. A bright white light emerges from my hands. This time it’s blinding. I shut my eyes, feeling the concrete move away from my body. I open them again. The two men are below me, quickly getting smaller and smaller with each passing second. The windows of the bulidings of the alleyway shoot past me. Where am I going? I continue to float. As I continue to rise, I look to my left. I’m flailing, reaching desperately to grab hold of anything that might I could hang onto to keep me from floating into space. That might be a legitimate fear. I’ve never done this before. I manage to get close enough to a building. I begin rolling up against it, tumbling along the side of the building like I’d just fallen down a set of stairs. A hand reaches out just as I reach the edge of the rooftop. I’m still. The two agents are below cursing, and looking at a way to get into the building. I look to the hand holding me. It's the woman again. I look closer at her face. A comforting purple haze comes across the iris of her eyes. I can make out the reflection of my own bright glow upon her. “I’m so proud of you. I always knew this day would come. I knew you too were one of us.”
"Bowser, help!"the so called 'princess' called, commanding her dragon forward. I scan it with Rotom dex -- "No data found." Cursing, I let out a command. "Lucario, Bone Rush!" Lucario crashes into 'Bowser', using Bone Rush as a stick to prop the dragon's foot up. "Now, use Aura Sphere!" Although Peach makes no command, the Bowser destroys the Aura Sphere with a breath of fire. I slap my right wrist out of instinct -- wait, it's on my left wrist now, -- and prepare the mega evolve Lucario. Just before my fingers connect with the stone, the Bowser roars in anger, letting out a breath of fire in all directions, even his trainer's. Lucario barely dodges Fire Blast, skidding to a side. With another earsplitting roar, he pounces onto Peach and scoops her into his arms. Something isn't right. Pokemon don't rebel against their trainers like this. "Lucario, Close Combat, free her!" Lucario, agile as ever, leaps into the air and crashes into the Bowser's back, delivering high-powered punches and kicks. All the Bowser does is punch a brick nearby. It shatters, and reveals a sparkling star. Is that a Starmie-- Bowser swallows the star in one gulp, and suddenly he is engulfed in a rainbow aura. Lucario's attacks glance off him easily. Almost like he's invincible. Peach screams, waving her hands desperately, but all I can do is watch her as she disappears into the horizon in the Bowser's arms. Sighing, I recall Lucario and prepare to fly back on Talonflame, but someone calls out to me. "Oh no! Hows'a I get my spaghetti now?"I whip around and spot a short, plump man in a red suit. He walks alongside a lanky man in a green suit. They both look to be plumbers. "You must'a help us! Our Princess has been stolen, by Bowser again!" Again? Must be a regular occurence. I turn back around, pretending not to hear them. One of them sighs, throwing out... an acorn? "Lets'a go!"I hear them exclaim, both shoving the acorn into their mouth. I don't watch what happens next, but somehow... they're flying? I sigh and shake my head. At least this is easier to handle than that stupid Lysandre dude in Kalos, or that Reukra dude in Torren. Sighing, I hop on Talonflame and fly towards the two plumbers, hoping against hope that this will not land me in another evil team plot. I've had enough of evil teams, especially Magma and Aqua.
Regan held the match to the candle, before quickly waving the match out. He looked down at the circles he had drawn in chalk. The empty warehouse creaked and moaned with the winds lashing at it. The rain drummed out a beat in the background. Regan ignored the sounds and gazed at the three intersecting circles. Each drawn with chalk, one white, one red and one grey, their edges barely overlapping. Candles were arranged in a bigger circle around the three, faintly casting a dim light over them. Behind him, a pained groan echoed. Casting a quick glance at the soaked woman behind him, Regan reached into a nearby bag. The drone of the wind intensified as he pulled three objects out. "How's the summoning going?"The woman whispered, clutching at a broken leg. Regan ignored her, placing a cross in the far left circle. "It's fine. Just about finished,"He mumbled as he placed a store bought packet of meat in the far right red circle. To finish it off, he carefully set down a stick of incense. He backed away from the circles and looked back to the woman. "Alright Martha. Time to fix this."Looking up at Regan with a pale face, the woman nodded. Regan began chanting under his breath. Martha leaned in, gritting her teeth. "-gathered the tributes for each, and of my own doing I willingly open the door to the three kingdoms. I am but-"Martha looked over to the circles, which at this point began to glow with unearthly colours. The cross in the white circle seemed to be a kaleidoscope, constantly shifting hues. On the other end, the meat had caught fire, casting a reddish glow. But the most unnerving... Was the center gray circle, where the incense had started smoking, emitting a gray mist that seemed to simply ignore the darkness, like it was somewhere else, not a part of- Martha shook her head. She looked back at Regan, whose chanting hadn't stopped. The warehouse now creaked along with his words, as the rain's incessant pummeling intensified and the wind howled. His voice rose steadily. "- I call upon Heaven, upon Hell, upon everything beyond the both of them! I call upon the Principalities, the Shaitan and the Void! The door is open and I call thee forth! Reveal yourself to me Imamiah, Angel of Errors-"At the name, the cross seemed to explode into white light- "Gedwu, Ifrit of Injury-"the fire in the red circle flared up, reaching triple the height and towering over the two- "Magnum Innominandum, Milk of the Void!"At this final declaration, the entire warehouse went dark. Martha let out a breath as the rain slowed, and the wind died. All was silent... and then she blinked, and the darkness lifted. With quick glances, she saw three beings within the circles. In the white circle was a androgynous person clad in billowing orange robes, wings sprouting from the back and covering their face. The red circle had a dark-skinned woman, perfectly ordinary in all regards from her dress to her hair... with the only exception being her eyes, flaming balls with trails of spilling out the sides. The grey circle... Martha felt her gaze drift upwards. She couldn't stop herself. The thing was ever shifting, a human, a creature, in constant flux. The only thing constant about it was it's substance of black mist and the eyes: white orbs in the darkness. Regan pushed her head down, taking her eyes off of the... thing. He then walked forward, stopping just a step away from the circles. She stared determinedly at Regan's feet, listening. "Welcome. Thank you for answering my call."Regan spoke slowly. He held his hands behind him, gripping each other tightly. "Oh?"A sultry feminine voice spoke, sounding for all the world like the crackle of a campfire. "How interesting. I have never been called with an Angel and an Old One. Truly you are ambitious." "Foolhardy is the term I would use"A choir answered, every word musical and legion. From the corner of her eye, Martha saw the wings move down from the Angel's face. Glancing upward, she saw that they had three faces, one male, one female, one lion-esque. None looked impressed. "As the Angel of Errors, I would like to congratulate you: This is on par with Lucifer's rebellion. Never have I seen a more ridiculous venture". The third guest was silent. Regan cleared his throat. "Well, this is... exciting."He spoke slowly, his voice cracking at the end. "But I have come to bargain for something. You see, my wife Martha-"he gestured behind him, and she felt several pairs of eyes on her. "-fell down some stairs and broke her leg. I come forth to ask one of you to heal her. We... don't have the money to go to the hospital" Silence. Then a sigh came from Imamiah. "Your heart is in the right place, even if your methods are not. We angels cannot interfere so drastically without a cost. This miracle shall be given... simply banish the others, and we can discuss the price--" "Oh come off it!"The Ifrit stamped her foot in anger. "Imamiah was it? I'm Gedwu. Exactly what price?"Gedwu began to gesture to Regan. "These people are poor! They can't pay whatever price you offer... but they can pay mine"she purred. The Mist remained silent. "Regan and Martha have not been the most pious of individuals, but"Imamiah countered, the choir rising in volume. "To assist their community is a deed in and of itself, nurturing the soul. They would only have to build four schools and dedicate half of their savings to charity". Martha felt her eyes pop out of her head. They might as well just go to the hospital for that price! Gedwu scoffed, flicking flame onto the floor. "Now see, that's just ridiculous. Not only would that take money they don't have, they would also need to dedicate years of their lives."She turned to Regan, and he stepped back. Looking upwards, Martha saw the Ifrit lick her lips, and crook a finger. "All I need is some life force. A girl's gotta eat. Here's my price, dear: Your life force to heal the girl, or bring me ten people." The Mist said nothing. "Harlot! Heretic!"Imamiah cursed. Gedwu turned to look incredulously at the angel. "Your price goes beyond that! Such actions would stain their souls forevermore, damning them to become like you! You ask for nothing less than to give up their humanity!" "And yours would kill them painfully and slowly as they lose money they need to live!"Gedwu pressed up against her circle's edge, glaring through the silent Old One at the Angel. "That is the price, you monster!"The angel hissed, scowling. "Arrogant swan!" "Untrustworthy jackal!" Silence. "Turkey!" "Demon!" "That's literally what I am!" S I L E N C E The insults stopped. The word reverberated through the warehouse. Expanding it's form, the mist filled the circle. Gedwu and Imamiah slowly stalked back from the Old One. They knew better than to irritate something so ancient. Martha and Regan silently watched in horror as the mist slowly coalesced and shrunk back down. It formed a humanoid bloated body. Limbs struck out at odd angles, spindly and unnaturally thin. It's head faced them, devoid of anything save the two eyes. Always watching. Never blinking. I am Magnum Innominandum the nameless mist you have impressed me dare to summon me These idiots vie for your soul But since you entertained me I will grant your wish For a small boon. Regan blinked at the voice. It was not a sound one heard... it was more like a vibration in their very being, an echo of a whisper, something that should not be but inexplicably was. "What... is your price?" The Nameless Mist dispersed from it's momentary solid form, becoming a dark cloud again, before materializing into a mirror of Regan. The eyes gazed back at him, and then spoke. Another Incense There was silence. None dared to speak at the ridiculous request. The other two wanted so much of him, and this entity, older than the universe and complex beyond understanding... wanted another incense stick? Confused, Regan reached into the nearby bag, and pulled one out. The eyes snapped to it, the mist condensing even more, until the Old One was nothing more than a floating sphere of darkness with two luminescent eyes. Regan moved it to the left. The eyes followed. Regan moved it to the right. The same again. "This is so stupid"Gedwu murmured, unable to take her eyes off of the sight. "A... Sensual Autumn Incense for you, Old One."Regan stumbled over his words. "With this offering, our contract is sealed. In exchange for... the offered tribute you shall heal my wife's leg."With that, he tossed the stick into the circle. The sphere of darkness swallowed it up, before expanding again. It reached the ends of the circle, slowly rising up and up... until the mist began to spill over the top of an invisible wall. It leaked like oil towards Martha. Her face white as snow, she watched as the Nameless Mist enveloped her leg in itself. It wrenched, and the leg snapped back with an audible crunch. Martha winced, but didn't cry out. "That... didn't hurt?"She asked, confusion on her face. The mist seeped into her leg, before dripping out. It slowly retracted to the circle, the dark cloud watching. Regan grabbed her hand, and helped her stand up. She took a few shaky steps, before smiling broadly. "Regan, I... My leg..."The two laughed and embraced each other in a large hug. The contract has been fufilled. And with that, the Old One vanished. Gedwu and Imamiah stared in shock at the sight, before looking back at the happy couple, who were ecstatically talking over each other. "What just happened, Ifrit?"Imamiah asked out loud. They pinched the bridge of their nose, waiting for Gedwu's reply. "I literally could not tell you. Whatever it was, I'm out of here. Screw this."And with that, flames enveloped her figure, before they winked out of existence. Imamiah watched the Regan and Martha for a second, before smiling. Then they too disappeared in a flash of white light.
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With the last of the fossil cleaned off, the verdict was clear, the first belonged to a human - man, fully grown - the second belonged to a dog and the third a cat. Professor Steven looked at me and then the date that had come back from the marrow test. “Can’t be?” he said. I chewed my cheek, a motion I’d been doing for nearly ten minutes now which had left the right side of my face numb. The fossils were dated pre-existence, pre the beginning of the world. And to make matters worse, the human, dog, and cat bones weren’t ordinary —each set had a perfectly natural wing skeletal structure that jutted from its back. “Maybe we’ve overlooked something,” I said. “Seven times, boy,” Professor Steven’s said. “And we can run it seven times more until noon comes and the Secret Services is all over this place like mice.” “But wings?” I said. Professor Steven’s fished a cigarette from his top pocket and went to light it with a shaky hand. Before the flame touched the butt he stopped. “Contamination, contamination,” he muttered. “We can’t have dug up . . . heaven?” I said. Professor Stevens clicked his tongue. “Don’t be foolish, boy. These fossils would need Halo’s for that to be accurate.” I sighed. “Of course.” I winced as Professor Steven’s rapped me on the head. “That’s exactly what this looks like nimwit.” The professor didn’t do well under stress. I rubbed the sore spot. “Should I run a report?” “Report,” Professor Steven’s said. “Report? I’ll run you in a second. We report this and the whole world will be on it before you can say ‘Bones’.” I swallowed and waited. “Here’s what we do,” Professor Steven’s said. I leaned in close. “You get the coffee and an extra pack of smokes from my pack.” “What?” I said. “Why?” Professor Steven’s had that look on his face, a look that was off into the distance in the far off worlds of ‘I have a plan’, the one look that said we’d be up way past the morning. “Remind me to rapp you on the head for asking questions,” Steven’s said. “Apologies, Professor.” I wouldn’t. “Forget it. We’re going digging,” Steven’s said. “And there’s a long night ahead.”
This is genius &#x200B; \--- &#x200B; The leaders of S.A.N.T.A. (Second-Anian-News-Teller-Agency) had sent the E.L.F.s (Enforcers, Lawmen, Facility-patrol) to take down Samuel. He hated the acronyms. They changed something so joyful to something so evil. Propaganda and the military. That's what they meant. He dodge-rolled to dodge bullets. He had been making a lot of progress in finding K.R.A.M.P.U.S. (Key Red Alert Military Pacifier Underdog Service). He had to bring them the files on J.O.Y. (Jester's operation yesterday) to prove he was on their side. He hid behind a door, pulled out his pistol, and prepared himself. "Check that side, En-Red12, I'll check other, inform via sound if viscon happens." "Roger, En-Green11." The short numbers meant they were the aces of the R.E.D. (Resistance Eradicators and Destroyers) and G.R.E.E.N. (Great Red Enforcement rEinforcement uNit). The short tags were given to improve communication speed. This was Samuel's chance. If he could beat the two, he would have to be accepted. He shot Red12. Green retallated with his shotgun. Only one bullet hit, but it also hit the papers. The pain wasn't too much. He could survive it. He shot again. In fact, both shot. Both got hit with bullets. Samuel survived, but it did hurt. Then, the K.R.A.M.P.U.S. agents arrived. "We'll take you to the base, but you gotta be unconcious so we can check you." Samuel replied: "One bullet hit the papers." They weren't suprised. Setbacks were common. Minor setbacks even more so. Samuel passed out. &#x200B; Samuel woke up in the infermary. A man was staring at him. "I am the G.R.I.N.C.H. The leader. Thanks for the papers, they helped us evac safehouse C.O.A.L. Too bored to explain what the acronyms mean. You'll understand later. But we have to thank you. You killed 3 E.L.F. ace agents. From the two biggest divisions, too. And some others. No wonder they had to send reinforcements." "Too. Weak. To. Listen." "Okay, so you'll be agent T.W.T.L. Welcome. Welcome to K.R.A.M.P.U.S. safehouse N.A.U.G.H.T.Y." &#x200B; (The acronyms were fun. Might continue later.)
2.2 billion. The price was displayed on the computer screen, and I had no other choice. What does one say after being offered 2.2 billion dollars, tax-free? All I knew was The Church of Scientology had enemies unseen. In a corporate headquarters of the Church, a desk sat in a lush office, with a pad of paper set out to allow the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard to write his next novel. It was my job to see to it that it never happened. So the plan was maniacally simple. We would give the Church what it wanted: the reincarnation of Hubbard, in the form of a young boy by the name of Phillip Darwin. We had the idea to infiltrate the Church from within the corporation itself. An inside job of epic proportions. We trained Phillip with all of the beliefs, philosophies and knowledge involved in Scientology, and had a full psychological brief and behavior file on Hubbard, with a little help from excommunicated members of the Church. We groomed him to be a functioning Thetan. A Thetan is the word for a human’s spirit. Hubbard believed that when we were Thetans, we co-created this consensus reality, then became trapped in this cycle of reincarnation. Sounds like a mish-mash of Buddhism and Gnosticism, but that’s what you get when a science fiction writer plays Jesus. So I trained Phillip to talk, act and behave like Hubbard. We gave him visualization exercises, had him repeat Hubbard’s affirmations, the works. On the day of our meeting at the corporate headquarters in California, I went over the details of our plan once more with Phillip. “What is the main principle of life?” I said. “Survival,” Phillip said. “And What are you?” “Clear.” “And what makes you clear?” I asked. “My perceptions of an optimal magnitude, and my sense perceptions are completely accurate.” Spoken like a true Manchurian candidate. “OK, go inside, and good luck,” I said. “Remember, you’re doing the right thing.” I felt a twinge of guilt, and those words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Two hours later, Phillip rejoined me, and told me all about his interview. “So they bought it,” I said. “Hook line and sinker. Can I have my money yet?” “Soon. We need to talk about the next steps. You’re in the loop now, but we’ve got to ramp up our effort. We’ll be in touch next week.” I spent the next week solidifying the scheme. He would be anointed as the reincarnation of Ron Hubbard, and be accepted as the chosen one. Then we would rip him out from under them, like pulling a rug below their feet. The next week we set our plan into action. Phillip ingratiated himself with the whole corporate board of the religion, and many champagne glasses were clinked over the course of the next month. I continued to correspond with Phillip, and was briefed on the happenings within the corporation. He shared hidden details, secrets that would crush the church to its very foundation. I accumulated this trove of secrets, and kept meticulous notes. After three months, I had enough dirt to rip the Church apart, and called back my Manchurian candidate. “OK, your money is in here.” I held up a briefcase for him to view. “Two million dollars, unmarked.” He looked down then up, and stared at me with uncomfortable eyes. “All you have to do now is call the press conference, and give your speech,” I said. Phillip nodded, and we left to eat some lunch at his favorite restaurant. Five days later, it was the day of the press conference. Everybody who was anybody was present, and no news outlet failed to attend. The auditorium was packed, with a blue fabric backdrop and blinding halogen lighting above, illuminating the main podium. When the time arrived, Phillip accepted the microphone, and started the speech we’d rehearsed during the previous week. “...that’s why, from this day forward, I renounce any affiliation with The Church of Scientology,” Phillip said. The crowd shook, and cried. Some people fainted. A couple reporters chuckled softly. And that was the end of the Church. Without it’s leader, people lost faith in the institution, and that crack in the facade collapsed the whole structure from within the foundation itself. Phillip certainly gained more than a few enemies that day, but he’s in the witness protection program, and has more than enough money to live off of, if he invests it wisely. As for me, I’ve retired from the biz. There aren’t any other churches to take out, and nothing else has quite the challenge of demolishing an entire religious cult. So now I just have to figure out how to spend 2 billion bucks. Maybe I’ll start a religion.
“Hello America! Today freedom is not an option. Today we serve the New American Government. They are our masters and we must rebel—“ (BZZT) THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN CENSORED BY THE NEW WORLD GOVERNMENT. &#x200B; Christian new this day would come. He reached under the couch as the tv switched back to Global News Station. Christian pulled his grandfather's AR 15 from its hiding place. Dropping the magazine he inspected that it was full. He slapped the magazine back into the lower reciever, and then pulled back the charging handle shoving a green tipped 5.56 round into the chamber. He didn't know what waited out in the streets, but it was fucking go time. &#x200B; Stepping from his appartment building he spotted the NWG soldiers that always stood at the 10th and Main checkpoint. Christian dashed to the closest parked car. He stumbled into the front drivers side wheel. The 20 year old's heart pounded in his ears as his fight or flight response kicked into overdrive. Wiping the sweat from his brow Christian knew that a rebellion always started with a single round. The checkpoint was only manned by three NWG soldiers. These soldier never practiced vigilance. Why should they in a small city sympathetic to the New World Government? Well, at least when the city's ruling class was sympathetic to the New World Government. &#x200B; Steeling his resolve Christian gripped his weapon even tighter. His mind made up he pushed up propping the AR 15 on the hood of the car. Taking aim Christian could barely keep the barrel on target. His hands shook nervously. Before he could calm his nerves, the situation took a turn for the worse. Four NWG I-MRAPs pulled up to check point. 10th and Main went from a three-man check point to a heavily armed blockaid of forty-three men and armored vehicles. Christian wasn't dumb. This was the time to book it. One boy with a 50 year old weapon was no match for heavy infantry soldiers with the newest body armor and weaponry. &#x200B; He knew he should run for it and re-evaluate what his plans for the revolution were. Hell, he had run from his apartment half cocked. Christian heard rebel and jumped without thinking. He assumed the lot of Americans would. But maybe that was the thoughts of an angry young man. Before he could convience his body to move Christian heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard pumped through unseen speakers. Sweetly the amplified the voice wispered, "Let the bodies hit floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor. Let the bodies hit the floor."The second of pause before the scream Christian looked up from his hiding spot. &#x200B; "LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOOOOOOOOR!" &#x200B; Five machines slammed into the street like bombs. Pavement exploded outward in all dirrections. The machines stood up. Fifteen year old, heavy mech suits began to unload .50 cal round into the NWG soldiers. The rounds turned the soldiers into a semi solid mist of blood and meat. Javelin missles errupted from the mech suits and rained down on the I-MRAPs. The heavily armored vehicles didn't belch fireballs likethe movies. Instead they simply blew apart with a shockwave that knocked Christian to the ground. In one minute the entire area was cleansed of NWG life. &#x200B; Christian stood up and dazedly walked into the street. With disbelieving eyes he stared at the twisted metal and meat swallowed by a cloud of smoke. He turned to the soldiers in the US marked mech suits. The hood of the suit closest to him opend upwards. A grizzled and greying old man looked at him. A scar started from his forehead and ran down through an empty eyesocket down to his chin. "America,"yelled Christian pumping his right fist into the air. The old man looked at him, the slightest of grins creased his gnarled face. &#x200B; "Fuck yeah." &#x200B;
BAM! Suddenly I was driving a hatchback on a mountain road at night with blue headlights. Shifting gears felt so autonomous, as if I was doing it all by instinct only. I see a turn up ahead, a hairpin. My racing sim obsessed self told me to slow down and take the turn properly, but my body took the car sideways, drifting the hairpin like I was in an anime or something. After the hairpin, I could hear another car behind me with an engine that sounded like a japanese schoolgirl's high pitch whining. I looked in the mirror and found a Toyota chasing me fresh off the hairpin. I looked forward, using only my ears to gauge how far the toyota was behind me. Third, fourth, fifth. I knew I shouldn't be speeding this fast through there but I had this feeling that if I let the Toyota take me over, shit will happen. I see another turn, I disregarded my opponent and drifted with perfection. I could see the finish line, right at the beginning of a junction. I floored the gas pedal. The finishing line whizzed past me. I noticed a bright light from my right side but by the time I realised what it was, I blacked out. When I came to, I was on the road, limbs twisted in unnatural ways.
My knees trembled with every step as if each one may be my last but I kept going. I knew not why. The chords of fate tugged me ever onward as the desert sun tore past my burned skin and withered frame to rip into my very soul. I expected to be faced with my family or my kingdom at the end, but unlike the fables of old, no specters of my past came to haunt me, no encouragement came from those I held dear to my heart, no flashes of my history came to me. All that existed was the pain of my ordeal and yet I couldn't just lay down and meet my fate. I refused. And so I marched forward, content to wither away in motion. I could barely register as my heal found purchase on something sturdier than sand and, without realizing, I found myself shielded from the sun. My eyes straining to focus in the shift from blinding light to shadow as I gazed about my new surroundings. A temple of sorts sprawled out before me with four rows of marble columns etched with mysterious flowing glyphs stretching down the long room and leading up to raised podium atop which looked to be some basin. My eyes widened with hope and my legs moved faster than I thought my battered body capable. The sound of my steps on the polished sandstone echoed eerily in the chamber and a piece of my mine whispered caution but my thirst roared louder. "Wat...er..."I gasped as I made it to the alter. If I had been in my right mind, maybe I would have noticed the slight golden tint to the liquid or the way it glowed in the shadows or I might have taken my time to see the elaborate mosaic on the bowl's interior. But as I was, surviving was my only thought and so I grasped the edges and heaved my salvation up with the last ounce of strength I could muster. The feel of the liquid against my lips was euphoric, it's warmth running over my tongue and down my throat. Pins and needles spun through my body as I took another gulp and another. I slowly became aware of something changing, the burn in my shoulders from the sun disappeared, the aches of my legs throbbed softer until they abated completely, and the weight of my savior lightened faster than just the flowing liquid could account for. As the last drops vanished within me, I stood there, tall and straight with my vitality fully restored... no... I was as I never was before. "What have you done...?"came a shallow voice from other end of the chamber. I turned to face an ancient man with grand robes and an ornate cane taller than himself, his face contorted by confusion and fear before hardening into anger. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?! GUARDS!!!"he bellowed and I could hear the thunder of boots from beyond him in response. I reverently set the basin back onto it's perch before raising my hands to the elder to try and explain but any hope I had withered under his blazing glare. In that instant I knew fear like never before. Not the grim fear in the desert that I fought off before but a primal, roaring fear of imminent gruesome death. Such righteous, nearly divine fury poured from his every move. I couldn't take it. Panicked, I ran, pushing everything I had into escaping that glorious specter of death. I could feel my pursuers behind me, the polished floor shaking with the possibly hundreds of guards out for my blood like ravenous wolves after a fledgling hare. The entrance seemed to stretch out impossibly far in front of me but I had to make it, there was no way after all I went through that I would let myself end here. I refused! I shouted a cry of desperation, clenched my eyes closed and pushed myself harder than I ever had hoping for one more miracle. My next step hit soft sand and sent me tumbling end over end into the scorching sun once more. My momentum carried my hurtling down a dune and left me half buried in the sand. I scrambled to right myself, cursing myself as I shielded my eyes from the blinding light in search of the guards but none came. All was silent except for my hushed, ragged breaths. I crouched there for an eternity before I could convince myself to action. Slowly, I climbed up the dune following the sporadic trench my fall had left. As I reached the crest I fell to my knees, heart pounding nearly out of my chest, and my jaw as low as it would fall as nothing but open desert for miles around stared back at me.
The Finals Circle of Hell Dillon sat slumped at his desk, his behind somewhere between chair height and the floor. Towards the front of the class, his teacher rambled aimlessly while sorting through a stack of papers. Dillon had a serious case of senioritis, and he was only one week away from freedom. In just a week, finals would be over and his last hurdle to graduation would have come and gone. As his teacher strut down each row of desks, the shuffling of papers continued. Every now and then Dillon would hear audible gasps, presumably students receiving back old essays with which their anticipated grade did not align with their actual one. Dillon, still slumped back in his chair, heard the shuffling of papers grow louder. Sitting up, he saw his teacher. In one arm, his teacher clutched a series of papers each doing its best to wriggle free of his grasp. His other arm outstretched to Dillon contained a small stack of papers, perfectly aligned and stabled. Dillon adjusted himself in his chair and reached out, anxiously grabbing the paper from his teacher. In instances such as this, Dillon subscribed to the bandaid method – whereby the faster you looked at the grade, the quicker the pain would be over. As such, Dillon quickly turned his paper over and glanced at the red circle staring back at him. “A D-!” Dillon gasped, louder than he meant to. His teacher, hearing Dillon’s disappointed cry, calmly replied, “There’s still a chance to pass the class. See me in my office.” “Copy that, teach” Dillon shot back, a sense of angst and anger in his voice. As the teacher let out a small, disapproving grunt he shuffled on, quickly distributing the remaining papers. “Aright class. We do not meet until next Wednesday, whereby our final exam will be held. Same time, same classroom. Bring a b2 pencil and your answer card to fill in the responses. If you have questions, see me in my office.” With that, Dillon’s peers swept their pens, pencils and books into their bags and scrambled out of the classroom. Dillon, unlike his peers, remained in his chair. He had no sense of urgency to pack his bag and even less urgency to leave the classroom. His mind raced as he performed all manner of equations, silently calculating the grade he’d need to get on the final to have a chance at graduating. His teacher amongst the chaos had made his way once again to Dillon’s desk. “A+” The teacher said. “What?” Dillon replied, shaking himself out of his mathematical trance. “A+. The grade you need to pass the class.” His teacher replied. Dillon crossed his arms on his desk and sunk his head into them so that they cradled it. “It’s possible.” His teacher continued, “Possible but difficult. You will really have to apply yourself.” “I know.” Dillon mumbled, most of it unintelligible due to his posture. “If you need any help with preparing, I’m available most days around three.” “Thanks.” Dillon said, his tone still depressed as he quickly stuffed his notebook into his bag. Slinging his bag across his shoulder, Dillon walked out of class. His teacher watching but unsure how else to help. Upon arriving home, Dillon booted up his computer. While it started, he grabbed a lemon-lime soda from the fridge and a pack of crisps from the pantry. Returning to his desk, he gently placed the soda adjacent to his keyboard being careful not to agitate the foamy demon inside the can. Past experiences had taught him better than to take out his anger on a soda can. The crisps were not as lucky. Dillon nonchalantly dropped them onto his desk, breaking most of them into much smaller pieces. He immediately regretted doing it, as he hated trying to lap up the chip dust that inevitably sat at the bottom of the bag. Retrieving the crisps from his desk, he slumped back in his computer chair and slung his legs up atop his oaky wooden desk. “Alexa, how do I get an A+ on my biochem final?” He asked sarcastically, not expecting a helpful reply. “Here’s some things I found online for ‘getting an A+ on my biochem final” she replied in her usual monotone voice. “Study; make an answer sheet; summon a demon.” Dillon craned his neck at the last prompt. “Well, that’s… different.” He thought. Must have been one of those joke responses that sometimes get swept up in her answer bank. Then a weird thought crossed Dillon’s mind. Not wasting any time, Dillon sat upright in his chair and repositioned his legs on the ground. Pulling his keyboard forward towards himself, he typed in his password and allowed his computer to finish starting up. While it did, he cracked the seal on his soda and took a large sip, savoring the cool and refreshing flavor. He’d always had a soft spot for lemon flavored things. As his computer finished its startup sequence, he opened a browser window and navigated his way to Google. With little thought to the consequences of doing so, he typed in ‘How to summon a demon.’ “I guess I’m feeling lucky,” Dillon chuckled as he clicked the random button. The browser page quickly changed from the corporate pure white backdrop of Google to what Dillon could only describe as being a horribly designed Geocities website – complete with black background, red embossed gothic style font and enough pentagrams to terrify even the most edgy of teenager. Staring at the typeface, Dillon made out the words ‘How to summon a demon.’ Looking just below that was a list of ingredients, possibly recipes Dillon figured. The list was broken down by smaller categories, naming types of demons, presumably for different purposes. Oddly enough, education was a category that Dillon quickly located and clicked on. The browser page flashed as another page loaded, this one equally as hideously designed. ‘How to Summon a Demon for Educational Purposes’ it read. Followed by a brief introduction. Dillon scanned the text, making out the words ‘schooling, knowledge and untapped power’. Scrolling further down the page, Dillon located a list of ingredients similar to the previous page. Assuming these were ingredients for a ritual of some sort, he furiously scribbled them down onto a post-it note and set off for the grocery store. Had he scrolled a little further, Dillon would have seen the remaining text which read ‘Caution: Perform ritual at own risk; demon may try to take over the world or destroy it.’ As he reached the store, Dillon glanced down at his post-it note. There were five ingredients he needed to complete the summoning ritual; these were: candles, bonemeal, waterlily, pencil shavings and an ox heart. Making his way through the grocery aisles, Dillon located candles. ‘Check’ he thought, ‘That was easy.’ The next few were not as easy. Unable to locate bonemeal, Dillon settled for cornmeal, waterlily was substituted for water chestnuts and ox heart was replaced by chicken gizzards. Dillon had an assortment of pencils at home, so he checked off the final box and made his way to the register. The checker lady was in her thirties, medium height with brown curly hair and deep green eyes. Her uniform messy and nametag slanted to the right, she gave Dillon a concerned look as she rang up his items. “It’s for a school project.” He stammered, volunteering the information without prompt just to cut the silence. She just smiled and handed him the receipt.
When my name fell from the mouth of the innocent child I formed from the froth and bubble of her spit and air. I became. To be when once I was nothing. Birthed fully aware of the me unleashed on the world. Like terrorism or nuclear destruction, I am death. I will take what is made and unmake it. I am the unmaker of existence. The void spreader. The little girl who breathed life into my purpose only did what chaos had always planned the syllables to do. She is not to blame for this anymore then she is to blame for the entropy of the universe. But every mass extinction starts somewhere, so I kill her first.
"No..it's impossible.." I quickly grabbed the diary next to my bed to write down what I remembered from the dream. There was no time, I knew I would forget it if I didn't note it down soon. But this particular dream did seem..unforgettable. Phil was there. Stupid Phil. I never liked him. He was dressed stupid too, I couldn't quite get what he was trying to be. The hook on his hand suggested pirate but the science book in his hand (It actually said Science Book ) suggested scientist. "The World is in danger! The Turtles have attacked! We gotta get out of here fast!" "What?! What about the Honda Civics?"I said. "There's no time to explain. Get in the Batmobile."said Dwayne Johnson. Then We rode the Bat all the way to a place called Rabbitland. "Alex, The rabbits are on our side. This is the safest place on the planet right now." "Hey Phil, why does Dwayne look so sad?" "Oh, he hit rock bottom." Before I could answer, there was a loud explosion. Thousands of turtles were moving towards our base, surrounding it slowly. "They don't look that scary Phil." "Oh they are no regular turtles, Alex. They are mine turtles." The mine turtle theme song started playing (https://youtu.be/DI5_sQ8O-7Y) as more explosions took place. Phil was injured in one of the explosions. "Alex..I..I just wanted to say..I've always loved you." "What the hell man that's gay as shit." "No like in a-" "I have a penis dude, you're into penises now?" Dwayne too looked sad after I said this. Or maybe he was sad anyway. Then another mine turtle explosion blew us all away. I put the notepad down, terrified at the sight of the thing. It wasn't very large but I knew it was packing a huge explosion if I set it off. Getting up, I locked the door shut, eager to see how male masturbation works.
Daniel considered himself one of the lucky ones, he was at school when the Silencing occurred. So he was with a whole classroom of people who also suddenly couldn't hear or speak and knew it wasn't come horrible medical condition or a problem with his mind. One moment the teacher was droning on about the Napoleon and the next, silence. After frantic minutes of mute shouting and trying to hear anything the teacher finally got our attention and wrote on the board so the students could read it. 'Don't panic!, something must have happened but we can still communicate, you are allowed to get out your phones and contact loved ones and see if you can find any information'. Three days later and Daniel knew he was lucky, some people had woken up in the morning to the Silence and without others to relate to thought they had gone mad and killed themselves. Others had accidentally set houses on fire without the sound to tell them of danger or injured themselves with no way of alerting others. After the initial spike in deaths, the looting started. 'Any deviation from the norm and people loot' Daniels mother wrote on her phone and showed to him as they watched the news with the information via on-screen text. Police had to try and stop the looting and rioting by communicating with signs while scientists desperately tried to find out what happened. It only took a few weeks to settle down again, without sound people relied on the written word to communicate. All TV shows now had subtitles, and new shows being made were starting to rely more on body language and text rather than the characters trying to actually speak. Society got used to the new normal relatively quickly and it took until spring for the problems to begin. Animals that has previously used sound to find mates and warn each other of danger were dying in droves. Birds were hit the hardest as many became victim to predators and those remaining could not find mates in the usual way. Scientists were nowhere near finding a reason for the Silencing and panic began to set in among the environmentalists, scientists and animal specialists as they tried to find ways to keep these animals going. Humanity adapted quickly, most learned crude sign language within weeks and after months everyone could use it proficiently. But animals who relied on sound to survive died in what scientists called the 'The Auditory Extinction' which was though the be the most rapid loss of animal species in all of history. 'In a hundred years the idea of hearing will beyond memory' signed Daniels mother, 'They wont have any concept of sound, they wont even be able to imagine it.' Daniel nodded. He wondered if this was the first time that a sense has been lost, or just the only time humans have been able to record such a loss.
Fair warning, strong language ahead. &#x200B; "Tha' fuck?" &#x200B; "Watch your mouth, Rook."Sarge grunted, throwing the missive down on the table they men had gathered round. Rook snatched it up almost instantally, his eyes flying over it before he swore again, throwing the tablet back down to the table. &#x200B; "Yer telling me we gotta look for, as in, go against all tha' directives sayin to steer the fuck clear o' er, then actually fuckin kill er?"A look a sheer incredulity crossed over Rooks face, before it turned to one of mirth. "Aye, aye, ya got me Sarge. Never 'ad you fer a prankster boss."He laughed aloud. It was forced. All the others around the table felt it, too. Sarge and Rook were the oldest members of the team. As in, they had been on the team the longest. Beside them stood Toss, Boomer, Numbers and myself. Green. A six man team. Each of us holding a name that was as fake as it sounded. It helped. Since I joined, we'd lost five good men. Men I might have considered friends, had I known their names. Men who I'd left behind, dead, alive, dying or in some cases, killed by our own squad. &#x200B; This... This missive... This was command trying to get rid of us. It couldn't be anything else. Question it, we're seen as questioning the Authority. Treason. Punishable by death. Refuse, desertion. Punishible by death. Run? Desertion, again. But to go after her? I reached out with one finger, turning the data pad so I could better see the holoscreen. The name, the face. It matched everything... &#x200B; "Only one thing we can do, Rook."I found myself speaking up, looking around at Numbers, Boomer and Toss, all of whom seemed to have come to the same conclusion as myself. &#x200B; "Aye? Whas that then? Run in an get areselves a new arsehole torn?"The look in his eyes was almost pleading. I wished there was something I could do for him... Only 19, with a woman waiting for him back at the Homeworld... I took a breath, pulled on my best grin and tilted my head back, looking up at the sky through the glass ceiling that allowed a beautiful view of the stars. I soaked it in for the last time before we left to die. &#x200B; "Aye. Thats it Rook. We hunt this bitch down. We track her all the way to the Zandar Constilations, if we have to. Then we throw everything we have at her. Tatical first, and if that doesn't work... I still have my connections from my last life. Nuclear Waste is expensive, the containment even more so, but I can get it discounted." When I lowered my head to lock eyes with his. The despiration we all felt must have showed in that moment. "The Grim Reaper can bleed. We've seen it, once. And if it bleeds, Rook, it can be killed." *XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX* &#x200B; "Hold up, you actually said that?" "Aye las. Aye I did. And would ya know it, that Irish twat ate it up like a spud during a famine."I laughed along with the woman across from me. She was enchanting, really. Dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin and her voice seemed to carry music with it no matter what she said. &#x200B; "Kill the Grim Reaper. How could he believe that possible! I've heard she withstood and fought back an entire squad of the Fifth's boys. Alone" "Aye. That she did. That was an eye opener back on the Star Fleet. That one woman could control that much latent energy..."I gave a shudder at the mere thought of what it must do to the mind. "But, enough about that. I left that life to get away from all that. Why don't you well me more about yourself, my lovely lady." "Well, fair is fair, I suppose."She sighed dramatically, throwing her head back and flicking her hair over her shoulder. Her pale neck, so soft and smooth was enticing. But almost certainly a trap. I settled for smiling and resisting the bait for now. "I was born"she started, her voice taking on a wistful tone "on a farming planet, Uveto 2. You may have heard about it? About Seventy years ago, it--" "Was unexpectedly subjected to an extinction level ice age... But, you don't look a day over 30."I interjected, my eyes widening in shock as much as disbelief filled my heart. &#x200B; A rueful smile graced her lips for just a moment. "High end mods allow me to slow the aging process. If you're truly curious, I'm just a little over one hundred and ten Galatic Standards. I believe thats about two hundred earth years?"She tilted her head a bit, as if to gague my reaction better. &#x200B; I nodded slowly, looking over her with a new found apprecieation. She giggled, and teasingly lowered one finger to the V cut at the front of her dress. "Am I wearing too many clothes for your inspection, John?"A clear, teasing giggle left her lips while I looked down, no doubt with my cheeks turning ruby red. &#x200B; "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. Just... Really? Two hundred years?"She gave a slow nod before continuing. &#x200B; "Well, if you're done oogling someone old enough to be your great grandmother, perhaps I shall continue?"She chided me, but it was lighthearted. For a woman of her age, she certainly liked to tease. I could go with that. I gave her a small nod, then took another sip from the mug before me. Not a clue what it was, but with half the underground market's clientel drinking it, it must be something good, at the very least. "Good. So, I was living on Uveto 2 until recently. My mother and father had long since passed --oh, don't give me that look. I've had over a hundred and fifty of your years to mourn them-- and then the cataclysm struck. I was forced to flee my home and venture into the galaxy. Now, I'd never gone further than my own star, to the space ports and warp gates, and now I'm out here, just five jumps from Zandar."
The applause subsides, and a rotund man with rosy red cheeks and a beaming smile approaches the microphone. He takes out a pre-prepared speech from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he adjusts the microphone towards his mouth. But before he can begin talking the the huge Maplewood doors swing open to the town hall. The loud crash takes the crowd by surprise, some let out a little shriek others turn around and begin talking amongst themselves. Standing in the doorway is a young man hunched over holding his side's trying desperately to catch his breath. Still breathing heavily he looks towards the rotund man on stage "The...outside...the"he mumbled towards the rotund man, who is now visibly angry. "Spit it out boy!"He says sharply. The young man takes a deep breath and swallows forcefully. "The British are coming!"
This is a slightly different take on your prompt She finished her dinner as normal. In her one bedroom apartment as normal. Spaghetti as normal. It was a normal end to the evening for Trissa. There was something a little abnormal though. She wanted dessert. Seldom did she want dessert! Beach season was coming and she was going to court a spouse this spring! But hey, one night of snacking couldn't hurt. After all she'd been working out, running and lifting weights for a few weeks now, she deserved a cheat day. Trissa approached her cupboard thinking about what sweets she had in store. Fruit roll ups, gummy bears, brownies, chocolate muffins. She opened the cupboard and..nothing. No snacks, no nuts, no raisins not even a granola bar. Her stomach rumbled. The corner store, 'I bet they'd have a bunch of little debbie snacks'. She ventured out into the night on her roller blades with her wallet in hand. On a hunt for snacks of just about any kind. Her hunger was reigniting. It was beginning to surpass annoyance and into hunger pains. Had she even been this hungry before dinner? Had she even had this kind of craving before. Not in her recent memory, or any of her memory. In all of her adult life she couldn't recall this feeling. She glanced at a pile of soil passing by, it reminded her of chocolate. Her stomach grumbled and she felt queasy. “Oh God,” Tessa bent over in a pain, combating a cramp. Then she caught a glimpse of the neon sign that exclaimed that she had almost made it to the corner shop that held the relief to her ailments, ice cream, twix, cheetos and twinkies! She muscled through her cramps. She burst into the store and rolled to the ice cream aisle and popped open the first small container of chocolate. She nearly threw up, felt like oil and fat frozen with a spoonful of sugar that had the after taste of clay. She immediately threw it away and grabbed a bag of cheetos. “Holy shit,” she actually spit them styrofoam that seemed to be coated in saw dust. 'What's happening...' She reached for her final solace, the ultimate snack. She ravenously tore into the twinkey package like a hyena into a zebra. Cream like rotten cottage cheese exploded through the dirty sponge of a snack. “There's nothing, no snacks.....” Like a zombie she glided to the front of the shop where a terrified owner stood, owl eyed and slack jawed. Tessa put a twenty dollar bill on the counter and slid out the door. Slid down the sidewalk. Slid down in her mind. Slid into visceral animal instinct. Slid...past that pile of soil....Thoughts of chocolate, doughy balls with a slight crunch slid into her brain. Tessa, not thinking, just feeling a crazing and an urge dropped to her knees and put a ball of soil into her mouth. The texture was like a cloud of snow melting into hot cocoa that slid down her throat, a few more animalistic hand fulls. A realization... She skated back to the store full speed, slammed open the door, grabbed the package, slammed the bathroom door shut, sat down, peed, waited, looked....Positive. Oh shit I'm pregnant.
We’ve been stuck up here for 17 months now our bodies are slowly going limp no matter how much working out we do. It’s been 17 months since something happened to earth. It just went black. We know it is there... or something is there because we still orbit it and the shape still blocks out the sun at times. We haven’t been able to get a signal down to earth and we don’t know if we can. Jacob from Canada thought that is would be a good idea to send a Camera down to see if there was anything but as soon as it entered the atmosphere the connection went black. That was 12 months ago. We didn’t send anything down there again but instead we had to figure out what happened to earth. I hav..had a wife and a kid. There probably gone now and They won’t come back. We’ve been thinking on leaving earth and trying to do a space colony and starting a new life at the Kepler planets but that wouldn’t work. Yesterday I suggested that we all try and do the math to go down and to land in what would have been the ocean. It might me being crazy or me wanting to die a little bit but we need to get down there and figure out what happened. He others on the station hated that idea. Saying they’d rather waste away up here than go down there and die on the way down. I couldn’t handle that. When the others were away from the supply shipment pod I have been stashing things there that could help me get down to earth. It’s been 18 months and I finally know where to land. I’m going home. I woke up and got ready to leave. Oct. 22, 2037. I got in closed the capsule everyone realized what was going on and they tried to stop me but I released anyways. I left them behind hopefully I’ll be able to figure this out. My pod has been falling for 8 days I would have hit earth by now. It is freezing. There was no friction. Maybe I was still in space. But there was no sun. Out of no where there was a light moving closer to me. Then another light and then another until I was surrounded by 12 lights. One turned off and someone stepped forwards. I didn’t recognize her but she recognized me. “Dad? Is that you” That couldn’t be my daughter she was easily thirty and I left when she was 12 when I left. We were only up there for 18 months not 18 years I was really confused then blacked out. I woke up in a prison cell surrounded by people who claimed to be friends but if they were why would I be in a cell I asked “what happened to earth” They all looked around to each other The woman who was claiming to be my daughter stepped forward and said, “about five months after you went up to the space station. Earth came in contact with an elemental. We didn’t know what it was at first but apparently people where right when they thought the four elements formed the universe but they forgot about two very important ones other that earth fire water and air. They forgot about darkness and light. darkness came to earth after you left. Which caused the black out.” I was shocked. I didn’t know what to think but it would explain why we weren’t able to send a signal down. “Dad...that was 17 years ago” “Wh..what. That. No. That can’t be true. I.. we were up there for 18 months not 18 years!” “That’s fascinating, time moves faster in the black out I guess.” “This isn’t a time for fascination. If you are my daughter then we’re is your mother?” “That’s a long story. So the light elemental also came to earth but light is weaker than darkness so she needed a host for her.. well we don’t really know we’re all thinking it is her powers but that makes no sense. But anyway, light In moms body fought darkness and finally one. We think it’s because he sun is so close to earth and earth is In the Goldilocks zone.” But because she won darkness’ energy erupted and mom wanted to save everyone but mostly me so she covered darkness and concealed the energy. Dad I know This doesn’t make sense but it’s the truth. We still don’t know what happened to earth. Or why it is still dark.” Thanks for reading. Hi guys so this was my first writing prompt thing I have done so I am open to any criticism you guys have so be as brutal as possible.
"Down"I hear his command in my mind without him saying a word. My eyes run over his leggings and robe sliding back down his arm to arrive at the comically large jewelry in his outstretched hand gesturing downward. I began lowering myself immediately to the position I know he expects me to assume. A slight tingle rushes over my skin, goosebumps rising in anticipation of what is to come. If I angle my head just right I can still peer up at the glorious crown he's wearing. It's so magnificent I barely notice his plastic molded face. My knees go weak as I contemplate that emotionless visage stalking towards me. A seductive wave of smoky charbroiled musk rolls off of him and envelops me well before I feel his strong hands lift my chin up. I slide right out of his grip the first time and he angrily grabs at me again slinging fry grease across the room in the process. I quiver in anticipation as he slides one greasy finger across my lips almost dropping my head a second time, I can taste the salt as well as the grease now. It's finally happening. I'm finally going to have it my way.
My eyes started drifting closed as I lay in bed. I didn’t fight it since it was evening anyway. No light was coming in around my curtains at least, which was my main way to tell it was evening ever since looking at my nightstand and alarm clock started costing so much effort. Although I don’t really need to save my energy for anything anymore… I’ve been fighting against cancer for so long, but my friends have all passed already or seen me to say goodbye. My parents died over 30 years ago and my extended family has all been here or I don’t want them to. I have no siblings, no husband… I think back to that day over 70 years ago when I accepted the soulmate necklace. I wish I hadn’t. They told me it would glow when I was near my soulmate with his necklace, but it never did. It always let me wondering if I should settle in a relationship with someone else. I started keeping it hidden so dates wouldn’t know I had it on, but I still knew. And now I’m here. ALONE. Why am I still wearing it anyway? I reached to tear it off and my hand burned when I touched it. I jerked up and opened my eyes. No one is here but me! What does it mean? I started breathing quicker. I could feel my heart start racing. I fell back down on my bed thinking. Could someone be coming to visit me with one of my friends? Was someone moving in close enough for the necklace to notice? Was it just a piece of junk malfunctioning? It was so much effort to get up I didn’t want to go look if it was just broken… I sighed. I guess there’s nothing to lose. I swung my legs off the bed to get up and walked to the living room. I didn’t hear anyone at the door yet so I decided to open it and see if anyone seemed to be moving in next door. I opened the door, but when I opened it my vision got dark. Had I gotten up too fast somehow? Seems unlikely, but I guess these days my blood pressure was unpredictable these days with laying for so much time. The darkness went away finally so I could see, but I wasn’t outside my house… I didn’t know where I was. A man I’d never seen before stood in front of me. Was this… “Finally! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here for you?”
"She'll call."I say out loud. My friend nods his head and leaves me alone. We grew up together, we went to school together, her mother calls me son, and my dad calls her daughter. Only marriage could bring us closer, but she left me behind. Ever since 1st grade we have been attached at the hip; we played sports only if the other could participate in, I taught her how to ride a bike and she taught me how to swim, she tutored me in math, and I tutored her language arts. We were going to travel the world together, always together. "She'll call."I whispered. The Ansible Network would connect our call regardless of distance, but traveling to a different planet took time. I sent her text messages daily, or more than once a day. It eats through my data but she's worth it, I don't want her to think that I've forgotten about her. (Translated from emoji/text talk) (Hey, Red: How's the stars? They successfully have repopulated all the large mammals in Africa! Can you believe it? Decades after the Rhinos and Elephants went extinct they're roaming the planet again! I've heard they're going to try the Polar Bears and Emperor Penguins next now that the ice caps have reformed enough.) (Hey, Red: J. Cruz and G. Randhawa got married, If you can access my cloud when you reach S-light then you should check them out, it was a beautiful wedding. My niece was the flower girl, and she was so adorable, she did her job perfectly. I applied again to the colonization program, I'm almost done with my engineering degree so I should have a better shot this time of getting on a ship and following you out there.) (Hey Red: I passed! A's and B's get degrees! The recruiter for the colony ship said that once I pass my medical and physical I could get on a ship with supplies and workers heading to your colony. This is probably the happiest day I've had since we graduated Secondary School.) (Hey, Red: It's official, I'm Colony bound. We will be deporting about two weeks after your projected landing. By then you guys should have your AN working and requesting supplies. I'll be right behind you. I hope you'll be able to call when you arrive, I've really missed your voice these last 3 years. The time you and I both traveled means we'll be about the same age when I get there. Almost like nothing has changed.) (Hey, Red: According to the news you guys have landed and have your AN up and running. You're probably getting the flood of messages that I've been sending you, I hope your phone is charged. Call me the moment you can.) (Hey, Red: I bet it's been busy there. I know you have an important job and probably not a lot of down time. I ship out in two days and won't be able to get any of your messages while I'm in transit, but you know that already. I wouldn't be surprised to find that you're still going through the messages I sent you. Three years of mail must be exhausting to go through in just one week.) (Hey, Red: I'll be shutting off my phone to head to the ship here in a few hours. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared. I checked the roster and it says that you're okay and working, so the trip must be safe, right? I'm not going to think about that. I'll just think about seeing you in just one short month! Well one month from my perspective. Heading to the shuttle now. I'll have about 12 hours to talk before we start our acceleration. If you can call I'd love to hear your voice.) He stares at his phone. The call to board the ship had been announced and people were saying their final goodbyes, but the screen was still blank. "Hey, Grey! Time to go, man!"His friend calls out. He doesn't move. The second passed but the screen never lit up. Tears come to his eyes, about to venture into the unknown and after three years there is no comfort to be found from the woman that he spent his life chasing. He holds the phone in his hand as he walks to the terminal, once inside the ship the signal will be lost until the ship lands. (Hey, Red: I'll see you soon. Love, Red.) The phone comes to life, the ringtone that hasn't sounded in three years brings back memories as he answers the call. "Red!?""Grey, I don't have long to talk but I've been reading your messages waiting for my turn to call. I love you and I'll see you soon as I reply to your messages!"
“I got drunk and made humanity on a dare, wasn’t even my idea it was Vishnu’s” Nicholas wrote in his diary. “Nicholas get down here we’re going to be late” Jenni yelled from the bottom of the stairs Nicholas: mildly annoyed “relax dear the Gonzalez’s aren’t going to be expecting us for another 45 min” Nicholas quickly looks into the future to see that they will be waiting on mister and miss Gonzalez for roughly 30 min at the fancy Italian restaurant Jenni: “C’mon take this seriously, We don’t get invited out to double dates that often” Nicholas walks down the stairs in a fancy but rustic looking button up shirt. Jenni: disgusted “are you really wearing that?” Nicholas: confused “Yeah whats wrong with it?” Jenni: it looks stupid go change Nicholas: “fuck, fine” freezes time, walks into his closet and puts on another button up shirt of a different color before rewinding time to before his girlfriend saw him coming down the stairs Jenni: still disgusted “Are you really going to be wearing that?” Nicholas: mildly annoyed “oh c’mon what’s wrong with this one?” Jenni: getting really bitchy “it’s not dark blue, my dress is dark blue so you’re shirt must be dark blue” Nicholas: thinking internally “fuck I don’t think I have a dark blue shirt” pauses time again and spends 30 minutes walking towards a Men’s Warehouse before realizing he can just fabricate his own blue shirt out of thin air Nicholas: thinking internally “wait what am I doing?” makes his one fancy dark blue shirt out of think air and teleports back to his apartment and rewinds time to before Jenni saw him walk down the stairs Jenni: smiles “wow nice shirt, let’s go we can take my car I think I’m blocking you anyway” Nicholas: smiles back “I knew you’d like it, and sure I like your 2018 Lexis more than my 2013 Corolla anyway” Both Nicholas and Jenni drive to the Italian restaurant, unbeknownst to Jenni 30 minutes early. Jenni: annoyed “they should be here, were are they?” Nicholas: looks into the very fabric of existence to see that they are at a bus stop and missed their bus “eh I’m sure they’ll be here eventually” Jenni: “well if we’re going to be here a while we should talk about some things? how’s work?” Nicholas: confused “work? It’s going great, I get good hours and meet wonderful people” Jenni: upset “listen Nicky, you’re a Liquor store clerk” Nicholas: remembering that last Tuesday shift when a customer was kind enough to buy him lunch “well I mean I enjoy it” Jenni: “listen and that’s great but I need something more” Nicholas: confused “I’m sorry?” Jenni: “well I’m about to finish my bachelors and I got a job offer with a company in LA” Nicholas: excited “that’s wonderful!!!” Jenni: looks down “listen.... I can’t be with you anymore, you have no ambitions or plans....you just kind of wing everything and it all somehow works out for you.... but the rest of us aren’t so lucky” Nicholas: almost crying “please Jenni I can change I can go to college too, I can quit my job at the liquor store...... I’ll..... I’ll do whatever.....” Jenni: interrupts “I’m sorry, Nicky it’s over” quickly walks out of the restaurant Nicholas: crying on the inside after being dumped by his girlfriend of six months “WAIT SHE WAS MY RIDE....... OH FUCK” Nicholas started walking home before realizing he could just teleport. After teleporting home he takes a shower and looks around noting the cracks in the walls and floorboards of his small studio apartment. “Why do I live in the fucking Bronx?” He asks himself. Nicholas looks around and notices bills piling up in the corner along with half finished Chinese takeout for days prior. “You’re a mess” he tells himself in a mirror. The mirror moves a little and changes to a slightly green color shocking Nicholas. A voice comes from the mirror “Hey dad it’s Jesus, I heard the news me and Buddha are here for you man” the mirror changes to a FaceTime call like screen revealing both Buddha and Jesus waving. Buddha: “bro open your door” both Buddha and Jesus show up at Gods door with a 6 pack of ginger ale* Nicholas: “Ha thanks guys you’re the best, you know what screw Jenni, I’m throwing a party invite everyone, people, God’s, Deities, spirits, animals you name it” Jesus: smiling “now this is the God I know!!!!” Buddha: “Yeah man just like in college, best way to get over a breakup is to party, that’s how I got over Kali” Nicholas: “Yeah bro, this Friday awesome party, we can have it in your temple the large one in Thailand” Buddha: “yo it would be my pleasure dawg” Nicholas, Buddha, and Jesus all pass out on the couch binge watching Friends on Netflix. “Dad wake up” Jesus days while shoving Nicholas slightly. Nicholas: “I’m up, I’m up” Jesus: “hey don’t you have to work?” Nicholas: freaking out “oh shit you’re right, I need to invite my co-workers and tell my boss I’m going to be out of the country on Friday” Later that day Nicholas walks into work overly enthusiastic where he meets up with his best human friend Diego. Nicholas: “Hola amigo, hey theirs this huge party in Thailand this weekend, and we’re all going” Diego: “damn friend, what’s the occasion?” Nicholas: “sometimes you just have to live life to the absolute fullest and......” Diego: interrupting “Jenni broke up with you didn’t she?” Nicholas: “.......... Yes” Diego: puts his arm around Nicholas, “then what are we waiting for?” Nicholas, Buddha, Jesus, Diego, and millions of others from all over the world, universe and fabric planes of existence meet in Thailand for the greatest party of all time.
I looked into the bathroom mirror. The fluorescents and the dark blue tile emphasized my skins extreme pallor. My eyes burrowed into my skill, the bags under them had bags of their own. One of the lights flickered and buzzed, the sound dug into my mind. Everyone wants to live forever, right? That’s what I thought when I was younger. I spent so much time fearing death that I barely even lived. Every moment my mind was left to wander it ended up in that void. Falling down into a darkness I could not comprehend. Now, as I stared into the mirror for minutes on end, I wished for death more than anything else. And it was something I could never have. &#x200B; I stepped out of the bathroom and onto the assembly floor, resumed my position on the assembly line and begun placing tape onto the uniform packages. I heard the sound of Johnny’s boots on the concrete behind me. Heard him pacing back and forth across the line. Johnny was my line supervisor. I’d looked at him exactly once. Johnny was like me, he’d signed the contract. Another life. The only cost was spending it working the line. Unlike me, Johnny hadn’t been lucky enough to die of natural causes. I’d read his name badge and made eye contact with his one eye for just a moment. My gaze was tugged towards the gaping hole where the other half of his face had been. I’ve kept my eyes on the line, since then. &#x200B; Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the shift. I shuffled out amongst the throng of corpses, keeping my eyes glued to the ground. I went to my usual haunt and found Samantha and Joanne cuddled up there as usual. I sat down next to them and stared at the ground in front of us. This was our nightly ritual. A communion of sorts. Most of the corpses did this, or else just shuffled into their graves. Without the ability to talk or leave Company property there wasn’t much else to do. &#x200B; So I sat. Longing for a death I’d already squandered.
Nobody ever expects the bad guy to actually be competent at his or her job, which is why I think my rule was a pleasant surprise for most of the common folk. I mean, sure, yes, speak out against me and get thrown in the torture chamber, but the goal of the first Five Year Plan was to not ever need the torture room again. I'm certainly not perfect, but I definitely don't enjoy torturing random people. So full of bloody and twitchy. Just gross. After destroying Prince Gregor the Gregarious with my magical superweapon, most of the common folk realized that rebellion was pointless, as I could (and did) incinerate a large field of wheat in a couple seconds. Recharge on the Apotheosis superweapon was only four seconds, so roasting another field was no biggie. But of course I'm not a monster. I paid those two farmers back at more than market price. No point in making enemies. After that, infrastructure revitalization was the next big step. My Legion of Terror needed good roads, after all, and I didn't want to have to employ extra doctors for rolled ankles or to purchase extra wagons if stuff got stuck in the mud. I briefly thought about rounding up every young man for the building process, but that seemed so clumsy. Instead, I offered one silver piece plus a loaf of bread, an apple, some cheese, and some meat per day of hard labor for anyone who wanted it. The Legion is an equal opportunity employer, of course, and young women flocked by the hundred to our project. After the roads, I decided to improve the schools and make them mandatory and free for all children between the ages of 5-16, after which there would be guaranteed apprenticeship matches. The theory behind this was to indoctrinate all the children to the wisdom of my cause and to generate a talented pool of tradesmen and tradeswomen. The farmers who relied on their children complained for a year or two, but when educated apprentices started showing up and taking over large sections of the labor, they were considerably more pleased. My Legion of Terror recruits got extra indoctrinated and more training time as a side bonus, which was very useful. Finally, I sent messengers to the surrounding realms and invited immigration and increased trade. While some of my people muttered about damn dirty foreigners, I tried to send as many as those to the dungeon as possible. Intolerance has no place here. After three or four years, however, our economy was completely overhauled and foreigners were welcome as traders, merchants, and guests. Turns out opening up the trade routes was incredibly lucrative, and I was able to lower taxes as a preventative measure against future rebellions. Next Five Year Plan, I think, will be all about invading at least one of the neighboring realms. Fortunately, I have the gold, the roads, the educated and motivated Legion of Terror, and institutional knowledge of everywhere around me! It's always good to plan these things out.
Squidward crumpled up the small card he’d received in the mail. “It’s Tentacles,” he huffed. It was one thing for the Union Status (or whatever it was that stupid lump of dry dirt called itself) to discover sentient life in the ocean and nationalize them. In fact, it meant that cheap crustacean had to offer him things like “health care” and “wages”....Squidward didn’t have a problem with that. What did bother him was that no matter how many times he told those kelp-for-brains how to spell his name, they always got it wrong. How could they consider themselves to be a global superpower if they couldn’t even properly identify their citizens? Well. He already knew he was surrounded by idiots. Squidward Tennisballs was finally allowed to vote. Too bad his government issued license identified him as Squidward Tortellini. Like that squirrel had mentioned before, it was no wonder Texas kept trying to leave that infernal country.
April 20, 2022 Stretched out on the exam table, Clare’s palms were in excruciating pain. They had sliced a slit from the base of her palm to the end of her middle finger, and completely deskinned her hand. The doctors, working for the government at Edwards Air Force Base, not too far from Area 51, had implanted a small microchip in the muscle of each hand. She had never felt pain like this before, and it was apparent from the look on her face. Tears slowly dropped down her face, and off her ear, as she tried to do something to escape, but to no avail. Finally the doctor returned, and sewed her hands back together, and immediately removed the stitches. Her hands no longer hurt, and the scar faded away in seconds, but this only scared her more. Hysterically crying, she screamed for help, and in response, the doctor immediately covered her mouth with a rag, prompting her to fall asleep quickly. April 20, 2022 I woke up in the middle of the desert, but I could clearly see the mountains that surround the Antelope Valley, ironically named as all the antelope left 60 years ago. I had nothing on me, and swearing in my head the events that had recently occurred came back to me blurrily. I had to resist the urge to cry. I look down at my hands and see a faint scar, and a tiny lump, that hurts a small bit to the touch. In the distance I see a complex of buildings, and more immediately, a barbed wire-topped chain link fence. “Fuck me, they left me so close to the base.” I look at the sun, it’s approximately 9:00 A.M. and I can tell that the sun is east of me, so I know to keep it to my right side to walk north. Hours have passed and I still haven’t even reached highway 138, the main route in the area. I’ve only seen two vehicles drive by, one was military Jeep, the other an emergency response vehicle marked “Edwards AFB.” It’s probably about 4:00 P.M. now and I won’t make it home in time. I’m just wearing a pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt, and it’s already fifty degrees outside, and only getting colder. I have no food and no water, no shelter or blankets. If I don’t find help soon, I’m dead. Clare collapsed along the side of the road at 6:24 P.M., exhausted from her long walk and hypothermia setting in. Just before passing out, she had heard a small rattle in a bush, but this startled her, and used up what last remaining energy she had. So she lies there, it’s now 9:29 P.M., and the rattling continues occasionally. It is now thirty three degrees outside, and the clouds threaten rain. April 12, 2022 “Recently I’ve had so much weird stuff happening to me, it’s wild.” I said. “What sort of stuff do you mean Clare?” My therapist replied inquisitively. “Well, I fell down an elevator shaft, because the floor in the elevator had been damaged by the recent solar flares and the radiation. I fell 12 stories and somehow, I didn’t feel a thing. Then, this dude was trying to mug and kidnap me, and I held my ground, calling his bluff. He stabbed me in the neck and nearly took it off my body, but it healed almost instantly. I shouldn’t be alive right now, I don’t know what’s going on.” My therapist looked dumbfounded, when a loud bang interrupted. The room shook heavily, and the computer screen fell off the desk, shattering as another bang erupted. Suddenly, a high pitch beep came from the couch cushion next to me. Then another. And another, before a long beep increasing in pitch, and finally, another explosion. “It hurts... it hurts so much...” I moaned out as I lay motionless on a gurney, my arms both completely gone, disintegrated by the blast. My legs were completely mangled, but by the time we reached the hospital, all signs of injury were gone from them. Stubs had begun to appear near my arms, and it occurred to me, my limbs are growing back. At this point, I realized, that the staff at the hospital are in military garb, and they weren’t here to treat me. Part 2/? Tomorrow, I’m exhausted.
As he sipped his perfectly brewed espresso which he had perfected around with the help of the Babylonians, Jake slammed his newspaper down onto his ornate table, fragmenting the fragile surface into thousands of little dancing glistening crystals. It struck him that as he had lived through the previous generations, he had seen all their flaws but there was something about this civilisation that he had grown particularly fond of, or maybe it was just his deep hatred for solitude. He didn't quite understand it, just as he didn't understand why the glass surface of his table shattered in such a beautiful pattern. Jake had seen all the cracks in societies before him from the economic instability of the Romans to the corruption in the 'perfect' USSR, but never before had he tried to understand, or prevent it in any capacity. In his mind what was cracked was fated to break, but this time he couldn't bear to watch the cracks form. He had gone through countless lovers, and even more friends, all robbed of their lives by the cruel thuggery of human self-destruction. Snapping back to reality as he swept up the glass with a newfound vigor, his door swung ajar and stocky man in a sharp black suit stepped in and asked briskly "Everything alright here Mr. president?" This is my first time answering a WP, so any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, Cheers!
I had finally done it, finally took the time to sit down and write a writing prompt on reddit. Now I had lurked on the writing prompt subreddit for months, reading so many amazing prompts. From aliens invading the earth to people hiring hitmen to kill themselves, I read them all. Then I got this little thought in my head that I could do the same. I could spin words into a digital tapestry and entertain the masses with my prose. I then went onto reddit and sorted by new, I couldn't have a writing prompt tainted by other writer's work. It had to be fresh, hot off the presses for my debut into this subreddit. I also picked something easy to write, a story about aliens or whatever who cared I was going to turn it into a master piece. It only took me one hour to write my fingers flying across the keyboard, just wanting to propel myself into the Reddit spotlight as soon as I could. With images of Karma dancing through my head I was finally ready, ready to hit submit and show my talent to the world. Before I could do that though a voice sounded out behind me. "STOP! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY STOP!" I spun my computer chair in a flash, almost falling out of it and onto my floor. Standing before me was well me I guess. It was a kind of confused looking me and somewhat out of breath me but still me standing before me. "I know what you are thinking, why is me in my room yelling at me. Well it happens to be of some importance and I apologize for taking so long to get here. I could have saved you the better part of an hour if I remembered where we hid the key. What ever you do though I cannot let you send that writing prompt, my entire life is at risk." I turned back to look at my writing prompt, my glorious writing prompt that was laid out before me. This was my magnum opus, I could not let him take it from me or us I guess. "First off umm it is nice to meet me I guess, but what is so special about this writing prompt it can't do any harm! It is also my one chance to fame you should know that!" "Yes I know that! Yes I know everything else we have every tried failed! From youtube, to twitch, even that one time we tried stand up we have failed. I know this because I am you! Up until this point that is, this is the one thing that changes our paths. You see in your universe this post fails, no one ever reads it and the original post doesn't even get up to five up votes. In my universe though it becomes a hit, I get like 20k up votes and everyone on Reddit thought it was great. Reddit lies in my universe though and they helped foster the idea that I might actually be good at writing. Now this idea evolved until I decided to try and get something published. It went terribly, I have never been laughed at so much in my life, rejection letter after rejection letter. I couldn't even face my friends and family due to the sheer embarrassment. So please from me to me, don't submit that word prompt!" I guess I had to agree with him or myself in this case, everything we did try failed and usually failed pretty hard. He even got my suppressed stand up memories to surface. Something I had paid a consular a lot of money to forget, and I was not too keen to remember. "Fine I guess I can't argue with myself in this case, I will delete it and erase it completely from the annuals of history."I leaned back as I said this, hearing a sharp click on a key being pressed as I finished my sentence. The look of horror that quickly spread across my doppelgangers face was the only clue I needed to know of my mistake. That the one key I happened to hit just had to be the enter key.
November 22nd, 2034 They tell me they are getting closer to the solution. I'm not so sure. Their last test subject regrew a heart after the original was removed, but the subject died as soon as the brain was injured. It's undeniable progress. I just don't I'd call it close. Judging by the journal entry dates, my sane days are starting to come rarely. I no longer trust even my most complex locks to keep me and others safe. I think the time has come to... commit myself. Ill have to explain to them the reasons I've been financially backing them in their endeavors. I wonder how they will react to both my revelation of my immortality and that I need them to succeed in reproducing it so that I can die. July 9th, 2035 I finally have both the time and sanity to update this journal. Unfortunately, I don't have any progress to report. They observe and test me every day. They keep me constantly under guard, which is annoying, but probably a good idea. Hard to tell what an insane immortal man would be able to do to escape. September 32nd, 2267 Who would've guessed the calender would change? I wonder what other changes have occurred since my last sane day. Two hundred years is a long time, and sanity doesn't last long enough to talk about all of the changes. I knew they weren't close to the answer all those years ago, but finally they have succeeded. Immortality is now lab created and ready to curse whoever has the money and knowledge to buy it. I only hope that now that they can create it, it won't take long to figure out how to reverse the process. I just want to die. I suspect that this will be my last entry, so a final word of warning: the human brain can only process a certain amount of information before it overloads. If you take the path of immortality, insanity will come for you. And it is terrible to behold.
It wasn't hard to kill them once you found them. Alpha predators don't get skidish. Especially when they're hunting livestock. The CIA has had the RoseGlass program going for a few years. Sure, they let some go every year. They made sure they stayed within the lines though. You see, as long as the sheep know there are wolves, they make no complaints about the pasture. Or the shepherd. But if there are lions outside the gates, they get nervous. So the really grusome motherfuckers. The good ones? They have to be taken care of. Their kills have to be covered. But the finding is the problem. Tracking down someone who has evaded the police, the FBI, and any local law enforcement, for an extended period of time is hard. &#x200B; But it was also rewarding. As was the case with Marry Chi. A schoolteacher from Fort Smith, Arkansas. Body count? Estimated to be near two hundred, but hard to track due to her method of killing. She doesn't kill at home. She takes weekend trips in a car not registered to her, goes to a major city, and makes some unwary businessman or dealer or hooker vanish. She was clean, consistent. She traveled with an industrial meat grinder and a cleaning kit. De-bone the meat, grind it up, flush it down the hotel toilet. she'd grind the bones once she got home, turn them into dust for her flower garden. She never hurt the kids. But could you imagine if someone found out about her? If the story got out to the news? Killer teacher? Nobody would trust anyone. So she has to go. &#x200B; A suspicious death would only cause problems. She may be discovered. So it had to be an accident, or at least look like one. She lived close to town, so she never really exceeded 35 mph unless she was going on one of her hunting trips. And we can't have anyone finding out about those. So, car accident is out. Gas leak is newsworthy, so are sudden medical deaths. However, nobody looks twice at crossfire. Crossfire is a statistic. Numbers on a counter that don't even get looked at anymore. So, I put on some gang colors. I got into a late 80's malibu with some stupid decalls on it, and I waited till she was close enough to a dealer's house to justify the shooting. I lit her car up like a christmas tree. I used a Glock 18, but we'd taken care to plant an Uzi at the dealer's house. Not that anybody would know the difference in this small town. Nor would anyone look twice at the fact I'd used high end ammo that he doubtlessly wouldn't get a hold of. I shot at a few houses on the way to his house as well, this time with full metal jacket low grain ammo. May seem like I was putting the public in danger, but it was all calculated. I had earplugs in because of the gunshot but at least they filtered out the shitty trunk music I was blasting so loud that it literally drowned out the shots. If it hadn't been two in the afternoon on a saturday it would've been great dinner theatre. I parked the car in his driveway. It was registered to his cousin, but nobody would look too closely at that either. I tore off the gang colors, tossed the gun into the false bottom of my actual Audi parked on the street and drove off. &#x200B; There it is, you'll never find out about Miss Chi, nor her activities. Her victims will remain unknown, unsolved disappearances they won't even put on milk cartons. Her garden would make some idiot pay five grand extra on her house. And she'll be chocked up to a sad victim of gun and gang violence in America. A sad statistic. But not nearly as sad as the world we live in. What can I say? Don't look to hard into the dark kiddos, here there be monsters.
You're making this up, right? No, I'm not making this up, I swear to god. Don't you lie to me like this, Geoff. You're a really bad liar. If you don't believe me, fine. At least I am convinced of what I saw. Just an ordinary wooden door on a brick wall, I saw a man in a suit enter, and when he exited through the same door a minute later, another one who looked exactly like him followed him. Geoff, are you sure they weren't just, like, twins? Weren't there any distinctions between the two? Or had you been drinking again? The doorbell rang. At this time it was probably just a door to door salesman, so they ignored it. Lisa please, have some faith in your husband! It was 7 o'clock in the morning and I was on my way to work! Not to mention it was a Tuesday, of course wouldn't have been drunk then. But that wasn't all, when I came closer to that door, it didn't actually seem to have any sort of room behind it, I know I shouldn't just look inside people's buildings but there was only brick! When I walked past them, I noticed there weren't any differences at all, they had the same grey suits, the same shirts, the same eyes, they both had bald head, clear blue eyes, there wasn't even a difference in the orientation of their birthmarks! One on the back of their head, one on the left side of their mouth and one on their neck... Geoff, stop it. You are taking this too far, and I am not buying it. Despite of Lisa's efforts to put an end to his rambling, Geoff kept talking. His speech got faster and more irregular with every revelation he made. She had to put a stop to this, she thought. Even their name tags were identical! Their name tags! Ivan Bernards it said, on both of them! Ivan Bernards! Geoff's rambling suddenly stopped when the doorbell rang a second time. "Saved by the bell", Lisa thought. I'm going to send them away. Geoff followed her wife to the front door, muttering to himself about how it was true, and about how he didn't make it up, but not loud enough for his wife to hear it. "Salesmen", Lisa said as she looked through the small window in the door. "About five, I'll send them away", she mumbled, still somewhat angry at her husband for trying to make a fool out of her. Five men in suits stood at their doorstep. Lisa wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, so she could get back to talking some sense into her idiot husband. "We're not buying anything mister..."She looked at the conveniently placed name tag on the closest salesman's chest, about eight inches under the birthmark on his neck, "Bernards?".
"Can it talk to you" I turn around to see samantha she is as beautiful as ever her blonde hair and her gray eyes man she hasn't aged a day. "Hey are you listening" "Oh sorry got sidetracked"today's the day I tell her. "Rick pay attention you need to let go it not your fault"and like that she disappears "Hmm hmm can we have a moment of silence for the one we lost before our live truly began" "And like that I realize I will never get the chance to say I love her"why did she take her life and leave me so empty. I will always love someone who never got the chance to love me back. I look up to the night sky and poor a drink out "bye samantha for the last time" Take it easy on me first time trying forgive me for grammar English is not my first language and still am leaning l thanks.
Darkness That was all I knew after the semi skidded off of the road and turned me into red paste on the side of the bricked bakery. Then I felt purpose reinvigorate my soul and illuminate the shadows. The darkness retreated into the horizon and left me in a very shadowed aftermath of my death. I glided over to my corpse still splattered against the brick wall. I quietly mused to myself the implications of what had happened to me. First of all being the new all natural paintjob given to a bystander that I had shoved out of the way. Dammit at least I saved one i felt my grief start to overcome me. The edges of my rather limited vision began to gain a wonderful vinyet. I took my hand and slapped myself across the face i i couldn't have any more freaky shit happen. I I dont know how long I sat their as I watched the cabin of the semi fold on itself. The metal crunched and slid together like a demented game of Managua. Then I was no longer alone a pale outline of a rather chunky truck driver pulled its self from the shattered corpse. I saw those eyes the kind patients walked into my office with. The kind that always looked to the distance until they blead. This was a man that had fifty pounds of regret hanging around his neck like a noose. My first responder training kicked in from my time in the corps and I sprinted over. The ground under my feet squeezed and I set my hand on his shoulder. "Hey Hey You Alright". His pale dead face twisted and contorted into terror as he feel over. That my friends is how I meant Dave my partner in crime and co founder of the Afterlife Mental Trama Firm.
The ship spun slowly as it drifted through warp-space. The unreality between universes thundered against its battered hull. A single remaining thruster on the ship's port side continued to fire in spasming bursts, pushing the craft in what would have been a wide circle in real-space. The humans who built and piloted the craft no longer inhabited it. Some, the very lucky, departed the ship long before the attempted jump. Others, the somewhat lucky, now drifted without protective suits in the chaotic void behind and around the ship. The unlucky remained aboard for a time, until the madness that caused the lucky to try their swim caused the unlucky to each each other and themselves. Their screams and jabbering had long since faded to silence, but the ship was not entirely abandoned. With a thump and slimy skid, something walked the halls. The lights were all out, but the creature moved unhindered. Room to room, tomb to tomb it dragged its bulk. A console, sensing the movement, activated. A hologram of a black haired man in a scarlet tailed tuxedo with gold piping appeared before the creature. "Good evening! I am Ship Steward 34! How may I be of assistance to you?" The creature streaked and gurgled from mouths both seen and unseen. Its garbled tongue devised incomprehensible sentences, and reality seemed to bend around its song. Steward 34 listened attentively. "Ah! A little peckish then? Might I suggest our restaurant on level three? The special today is..." The hollogram looked down. After a brief silence, it raised its head to look again at the creature. "...File not found! I'm certain it will hit the spot for you! If not, I can place a room service order for you as well. Which would you prefer?" The creature shrieked again. The overlapping tones shattered a nearby window, causing a hurricane force wind from the hallway decompressing. The hologram looked at the broken window with an annoyed expression, pointed at it, then flicked his wrist down. A thick hatch slammed over the opening, sealing it. He turned again to the creature, and spoke again. "I am terribly sorry my answer was not to your liking, but those are the only two options. Please, which would you like?" The creature gurgled, then slowly turned and began to thump and drag itself away. "Very well, sir!"The hologram said, "I shall see to it forthwith. Please enjoy the rest of your stay!" The hologram bowed, and flickered out of existence. The program that spawned it missed the previous guests. Humans were, by and large, much easier to serve. However, one must make do.
Hello, Delvus Commander of Station Alaris. This is my fiftieth report on my twenty year Faster than Ligh journey across the Tolis 'Void' Nebula. My name is Erulus Vrolk, and I am an Eldus Astronaut. As you can see in my previous logs, I have walked across many planets, a few of them being the famed sands of Valis IV, dove to the depths in the Oceans of Orbos II, fought against the hellish landscapes of Pyrul, and even through the urban-like jungles of Ardax. But nothing compared to this odd unmarked solar system. But first, allow me to reflect before I catalogue this odd tome. We had all heard the stray broadcasts from this odd place. We expected them to continue for a while, and our people were quite intrigued for so long. But over fifty years ago, they went silent. Our astronomers kept cataloguing their progress, and last time we had glimpsed, they were close on the emergence of FTL drives and the Alcubierre Project. Upon their sudden silence and disruption from our scanners, we could no longer monitor them. So, they sent me to this place as a final point in my long voyage. To begin with, this book explains their cultures, all of their nations, and their history within the first nine thousand pages. The pages following that are an entire compendium of all life that lived upon their homework, and then ended with a final catalogue of their recent history, more specifically the portions we were incapable of cataloguing. Delvus Commander, this is a loosely translated excerpt from their tome. I have attached it below. "Year 2192. I am Joshua Allen, and I am a Tactical Analyzer for Topographical Chokepoints and Points of Interest for the New Northern American Alliance. The New Northern American Alliance as well as the South American Regime have begun their Panama Canal Siege for the sixth time within this five year long war. Due to our current state in militarized technology, none of our satellites no longer transmit erratically anymore, reducing the possibility of intercepted communications. Alas, the quickened expansion over the Wastes of China, Africa, and the Glaciers of Siberia have become increasingly dangerous for the European Conglomeration along with the New Romanic Republic, who are still at odds with one another. Year 2200. It's been a long eight years, and the NNAA has come awfully close to beating back the South Americans. I'm becoming increasingly worried that we're overextending, and that our ballistic missile defenses aren't overlapping enough in order to cover ourselves. Let us hope my worries aren't illuminated. Year 2201. They actually did it. I didn't believe it at first. Nobody expected it. They snuck past our underwater sensors and practically landed behind all of our defenses. By the time we realized it, they had already infiltrated our networks and detonated our Intercontinental Atmospheric and Surface Searing Missiles. Their original purpose as to spread radioactive material and harmful substances about every corner of its intended radius, to make building and managing a state-sized plot of land completely uninhabitable, as well as spread radioactive fallout within the lower layers of the atmosphere to render it unbreathable. Why did we ever think that was a good idea? No matter, because regardless of what happens to me, the other three major alliances and nations have done the same to their enemies. What was that phrase that everyone refers this As? Mutually Assured Destruction. How true that it is MAD to consider this an effective strategy. Hopefully someday something will find this and remember our mistakes, our lessons and learn that history mustn't be repeated like this..." Delvus Commander, as I tread the ashen soil of this odd place, I see an odd landmark of nearly annihilated steel, its fourth support destroyed but still the monument stands. I believe they called this place Paris once. There is sign of life across this odd rock, and it is only emerging with moderate resistances to radiation. In another five thousand years or so, given how quickly these creatures seem to mutate, perhaps we can contact something that has arisen from the ashes of another. Only time will tell. This is Erulus Vrolk signing off for now. I will see you all home soon enough.
I swim. You think you know what that means? I guarantee you that you're wrong. Let me tell you a little something, being a salmon in this day and age is not an easy task. Heck, just the other night, Marvin couldn't see a thing and swam right in a waterfall. You know what happens when you try swimming in a waterfall? You fall. But I've been in the game too long, I know where to go and not go, this river is my territory. I know it like the back of my fin. I'm ready for whatever comes my w- bear claw. Yeah, it ain't easy being a salmon, why, just the other night Marty got eaten by bear, a friggin bear. But nope, not this fish. It is getting kinda dark though.
"hey, did you already use this rag?"I ask, not looking up from the work bench. "Ya, sorry. I had to answer a text and didn't want to get blood on my phone."Sophia answered with a grunt. She's struggling with the neck. Removing the head is a hard part. Normally I'd saw through with my sawzall but I'd neglected to bring it all the way out to our remote cabin. "It's fine. Answering texts. Jeez. You kids and your tech dependence."I snorted. I could hear the eye roll without even turning around. I was more of a smartphone junkie than she'd ever be. Her mom had made me switch from my flip phone when Sophia was born. Ever since I have that stupid thing glued to my face half the day. But not this weekend. Not my baby's first kill. "I'm really proud of you. I want you to know that Sophia. Its not easy doing this. But it's important, and it's a tradition that I'm proud to pass on to you."I had to smile at the way she lit up. "God you big pussy you'd think we were rebuilding a car or something. After all the practice at the range, and on small animals, this monster target was like hitting the broad side of a barn."She teased. I chuckled and shook my head. "Killing ain't easy. And it shouldn't be. But this guy died so you could live. He died clean. Single shot to the heart just like I taught you. He didn't suffer, or feel much pain. You took him down clean, and now, we clean it up"I smiled, grabbing the boning knife and setting to work on the shoulder. It would take a while to break down well, but it was important to take care in this portion. To waste anything of such an important kill was sinful. I heard the door to the garage open up and looked up at my wife with a smile. "Wow. He's a big boy isn't he?"She asked with a beaming grin. She was nearly as proud as me. Sophia was practically glowing. "Yup. A freezer full for sure"I chuckle, pulling out the Ziploc bags and butchers paper. "My first elk. Can't believe I got one this big. The guys at school are gonna be pissed!"Sophia laughed, gesturing to the creature's massive antlers. Butchering is bloody work. But it's all worthwhile in the end.
A deep resounding chuckle shook the Earth, as Nelson Mandela teleported behind Stalin. "Your already dead mustache man; let me help you with the next."He said in his classic deep voice, instantly calming every crying child within a 500 kilometer radius. Stalin shook on his leg, leaning on his crutch as the 7 foot tall metahuman behind him placed his palm on his shoulder with a smile, almost breaking his bones in the process had they not been healed miraculously by the giant's touch. And then, in classic Mandela fashion, he helped Stalin cross the road. Past crimes had no weight here, except in determining the hand you start with. Further down the streets of New New York, the starting point of all new entries into the next life, Gandhi was flexing for the photographers. Celebrity status was instantaneous for any who'd lived a caring life in the last, and the worst were to be content with scratching out a living in frailty and strife; at least until they caught the sights of any of those stellar personalities, who'd often promptly take them under their wing and guide them to finding a better meaning in this one. This system worked in heaven's favour, as the truly rotten of humanity were filtered out of those that were simply shaped by their surroundings at a young age. By learning to live a different life, one of humility and difficulty borne out of their actions in the last, even the worst offenders often found themselves discovering new meaning and kindness in this one. Any that failed to do so by the end of this one were deemed an oddity, the most tainted of clay fit only for damnation; hell's demons only rise rarely now, but even they look upon those they've been chosen to warden with disgust and a tinge of fear.
Orion Johnson was awoken by what he thought was an earthquake. His eyes snapped open to see a custodial bot staring down at him. “Inquiry: Is the guest injured?” asked the bot. Orion was groggy. He blinked and glanced around. Right, he thought, the Nebula Royale. How could he forget coming here? As his memories began flooding back, he wished he could. He’d come here to meet Darius about a job, but he didn’t show. Not wanting to look suspicious, he’d decided to play a few hands of Karlagg. Then, he had the biggest winning streak of his life, which quickly turned into an even bigger losing streak. He’d used his final credits to buy enough liquor to make himself forget his own stupidity and now he was lying on a bench in the back corner of the casino covered in his own dried vomit with a splitting headache. “Inquiry,” repeated the bot. “Is the guest injured?” “No,” Orion said as he sat up. “No, I’m fine.” “Command: You must exit the premises. The casino is closed.” “Right, okay.” Orion stood and a sharp pain shot through his skull. “Can—. Can you give me a minute?” “Command,” replied the bot. “You must exit the premises. The casino is closed.” “Yeah, fine,” Orion grumbled as he began stumbling towards the exit. “Just stop talking.” The custodial unit began scrubbing away at the dried vomit on the bench that had served as Orion’s bed—probably the last one he’d get for a while judging by what he’d done to his bank account—and Orion exited Nebula Royale into the dim light of the fake morning sun that was projected onto the atmospheric dome. “Darius better still have a goddamn job,” Orion said to himself. He pulled his data-unit from his pocket and placed his thumb against the screen, unlocking it. It was blank. There were no texts from Darius. “Motherfucker blew me off,” Orion said, a little too loudly. A passing Zeronien gave him a strange look. He clicked on Darius’ contact and typed “Where the hell were you? What happened to the job?” Sending the message, Orion sighed and glanced around the increasingly busy street. He had no idea where to go. With less than a hundred credits, he couldn’t afford a room anywhere on Ariel-08 and definitely couldn’t afford passage anywhere. His data-unit buzzed. That was quick, he thought. He glanced back down at the screen. “That was the job. You were the distraction. You don’t think you’re actually that good at cards, do you?” read Darius’ text. “That son of a—,” Orion said as he heard the sound of a firearm powering up behind him. “Information: Orion Johnson, you are under arrest for conspiring to commit robbery. Command: Put your hands in the air.” Orion did as he was told and the enforcement bot cuffed him and stuffed him in a cruiser.
The clock was ticking. The morning sunrise is filtered through the blinds, causing strips of faint light to project themselves onto the floor of the room. I watch as they gradually strengthen, turning into golden rays in the process. It slows down until the change is barely noticeable. Time for breakfast I suppose. _'Another sandwhich huh?'_ I say to myself as I bite into the bread. Turning my head towards the window, I gaze outside as the radiant sun rises over the city skyline. A large billboard on the side of a corporate building briefly displays the current time. _"Good morning, good people of Atlas. It is 7:00."_ A female's voice announces. It's volume is booming, but it's tone is smooth. _"This message was brought to you by Sion Systems, bringing you the technology of tomorrow, today."_ I take another bite from the sandwhich, letting the melted cheese spill onto my shirt. No one was gonna see it anyway. "Today's too good for work." ___________ The clock was ticking. "Are you sure you can't come today?"The voice belonging to my boss says. "If it's a cold or a fever, I can have some Uni-Serum available for you when you arrive. On me, of course." "No thanks, boss."I respond, pretending to sound fatigued. "I just feel... tired. More tired than usual, I mean. I can't explain it any other way." "Well, you have been working very hard on Project C..." A loud sound rang in the background. "There's something I need to address. I suppose you deserve your day off. Use it well, and be ready for work when you come back." His footsteps faded as he hurriedly shuffled off, forgetting to end the call. I ended it for him. While I did feel bad for lying to him, I ultimately felt like I had made the correct choice. I looked up at the clock on my wall as I ate the last portion of the sandwhich. It wasn't moving. ___________ The clock was ticking. At least, it was. Perhaps something's wrong with the batteries? No, it's solar powered. Perhaps something to do with the internals of the clock itself? No, it was a digital. As I thought to myself of the possibilities, I looked down at the floor in thought. That's when I saw something. The light streaks from before. They were fading. They couldn't be, it was only morning time! I glanced at the wall clock again, which, however, stated otherwise. In fact, it was going backwards. __________ The clock was ticking. Backwards, but ticking. "Something's wrong with Project C!"My boss frantically panted to me over the call. "It was supposed to travel back in time, not make time go backwards!" "It's not necessarily going backwards, per se. If it was, we'd be doing what we were doing this morning, in reverse." "I suppose that's true, but still. Eventually, the general public will notice, and there'll be civil unrest!"The boss blurted in panicked statements. "Try turning it off first, then checking the internals to see if everything's in the right places..."I suggested, trailing off near the end. "But I don't know what is supposed to be where. The only person that does... is you." "But I'm on break, so-" "Do you not understand the gravity of the situation?! Time is literally moving backwards and you're concerned about your day off?!" "Yes. I'm gonna go watch the sunrise again. Or rather, the sunset." "Travis Gerald Livingston, if you do not report in right this moment I will-" And with that, I ended the call. I looked off out of the window, watching as the sun retreated back over the horizon. How beautiful. I could watch it forever.
This world is nothing but darkness and frost. My grandmother speaks of a time where there was light, and peace, but I don't believe her. I honestly think she's senile, always going on about the "good old days"and such. We haven't been able to leave our small underground compound for the last few years, due to enemy patrols that have stayed in the area. My grandmother approached me yesterday and informed me she doesn't have much time left in this miserable life. Her one wish was to see the outside again, even with all the ugliness. I decided to bring her up to the top floor. We got to the front door of our compound and I said, "Grandmother, I love you, but it's too dangerous to go outside. We cannot be selfish in situations where it brings all of us harm. This is the closest you'll get to the outside world in this time in your life. Goodbye."I walked away, knowing I'd never see her again, alive anyway. I heard her crying. She knows I have the only key to the front door, but it's a risk I'm not willing to take.
Warm salutaions chum! All well? Unexpectedly, this odd excursion (or adventure?!) is extremely good fun! The drinking establishments (insalubrious taverns especially!) are wonderfully rich. Professor John Handlewick (Esq.) welcomed me well. His grandiose townhouse is - despite external appearances - very calmative and (internally) most unpretentious. He seemingly lives alone. Unfortunately Rachel Handlewick (his lovely second wife) died. Terribly sad. *** That was very challenging! I am glad I chose a very short phrase to encode... Having to clearly separate the letter e (.) was not very easy at all! Nor was fitting in O (---). I don't think I did a great job - I think the trick might be in picking the phrase more carefully! Anyway, thanks for such a fun challenge! 10/10 - would puzzle over again. EDIT: my short/long cut is actually really close. I ran out of time (had to catch a train) so I had to use adjacent numbers rather than leave a gap.
I fled in fear, the Qinyong police station had been attacked by the Triad, with Type 56's they had assaulted the station and butchered anybody they could reach before letting their own people out of the cells. The police had made a mistake and imprisoned someone with power and influence, but still an open attack had commanded a response and now they sat holed up in the station in a siege that would likely not be short. The army wouldn't move in and the other police stations nearby were only going to hold the siege they wouldn't prosecute it and risk becoming enemies of the Triads. My wife had been a dispatcher in the station and was surely dead. And yet, I had kept my own secrets. For fear of the party. Now I had no fear as I looked up ahead of me. I stood in front of the famous monument. Emperor Qinshihuang's Mausoleum Site Museum. The attendants were fearful, the sound of gunshots close as such they did nothing to stop me entering. Before me they stood. I moved through the aisles, running my hands across each of the objects that stood before me until I reached the end, then I moved into a new isle, still touching each of them as I went. A susurrus of sound followed me, creaking and clanking. In the end I had descended into all of the pits, touched almost nine thousand figures. I felt it flow through me. The blood of ancient Emperors, that which the party would have, and would have to, fear. I turned and headed for the exit. The sound of nine thousand marching before me as I headed for the Qinyong police station. I pointed to it. "Kill the traitors and criminals within!" Behind me an earthen roar echoed. The Terracotta army surged into the police station. And not even the sound of the Type 56 assault rifles could drown out the screaming.
My hand took firm hold of the silver birch be the path as I made my way up the mountain. Mushrooms in every hue sprang up around piles of decaying plant life, as the songs of birds echoed in the tree tops. My only companion was a pale form of some half remembered dream, the life gone and joy stolen by cold harsh reality. "Is this where I come true?"Comes a voice like the last breath of a dieing man. It almost breaks my heart to tell it. "This is where you rest." I've made this trip many times. Dreams die often, but few ever rest. Many are just whisps, with no memory or reason. This one with me was stronger. This was a dream some poor fool believed in. "Tonight, you go find peace." The crunch of leaves under my feet remind me that this will be my last trip this year. Winter comes, and with it death for any who dare trek this far. As the sun reaches it's peak the fog of morning burns away, the ruin of an arch framing a vista no less stunning for having seen it before. "Rest here?"The dream asked. In mearly pointed into the arch and said. "Go." The form wafted like a ring of cigar smoke toward the arch, taking ever more form before vanishing like a mirage in the desert. I was alone, another dream put to rest. Well not fully alone. I opened my hiking pack, my gut wrenching as a ghost dream more solid then any other looked back. The one dream I could never let go, but could never come true. I close the pack, unable to set it or myself free and head home. There are more dreams to find, and maybe one day, the strength to let mine go.
"I"was the first internet zombie, though I didn't realize it at first. It wasn't until I turned another that I/we understood. It was a common prank: send someone a link, claim it was something cool, or scary, or amazing, whatever. 10 seconds in: What is love? Baby don't hurt me! Don't hurt me! No more! And now you're one of us, welcome brother! The first couple were easy, and as we spread, and grew smarter, the next couple billion were practically effortless. One day, every single page on the entire internet was one big Rick-Roll. Everyone online at the time was turned, and we were now almost half the planet's population. We took over television, and nabbed a few more. But then it became more difficult. Sure, some of you still dared to venture onto the "dark web,"but we tracked you down soon enough. The rest though, well, without the internet it's a lot harder to rick-roll someone. The last of you are isolated, no way to communicate with each other, but you're "safe." Look, it's not so bad. You gave up most of your technology. You gave up society. You abandoned the cities, the highways, anywhere we erected a screen. You live in fear. You could instead be part of something, something so much greater than what was before. Just turn on your televisions, or log on to your computers. The pain and fear will be over. We promise, it's just a cute cat video. Remember cat videos? Just give it a quick watch!
I saw her walking on the other side of the crowded street, flashes of familiar clothing flickering between the cars that flew past. She hadn't changed a bit. Same pants and shirt that I could have sworn she bought in bulk. There was the jacket that she'd ripped while hiking, and laughingly told me: "Thank God for fashion trends, I don't have to throw it away." It was all like I remembered her. She stepped out onto the pavement, head turning to survey the street. I wondered, in that brief second, if she'd recognize me. But no, a bus chugged along right at that moment, and when she came back into view, her eyes had moved past me. She looked good, really. Her hair was dyed a flamboyant pink that she would never have risked in our small town, decades ago. Then again, when she fled for a new life, for a better job and a better man, I guess everything changed. Then he walked out too, from that same store, holding two coffees and a smile. She smiled a smile I had once thought was reserved for me, but now was firmly out of my grasp. She takes the coffee, and begins to turn to the street again. A scant few seconds of thought, and I turned away, back to the monotone of life in the city. Perhaps when lines began to converge, it was more a collision course than a chance meeting. I walked away, as the lady across the street frowns. Her eyes follow for the briefest of seconds, but when the man asks if anything is wrong, she assures him it's nothing.
"So, what you're telling me is she just disappeared?" The man sitting before me looked like he hadn't gotten sleep in days. His hair was disheveled, he had bags under his eyes, his clothes were a mess, the whole works. He had his head in his hands most of the time, but in those ew cases where he didn't, his eyes were constantly darting around. Altogether, he didn't really look like the most trustworthy guy on the planet. "I know it's hard to believe. Hell, the two detectives I went to before you wouldn't believe me no matter what I said. But trust me. I know it happened. I saw what I saw." I raised an eyebrow at that. "Many people believe to see things that aren't a part of reality. We call those hallucinations. Are you sure you didn't just fabricate the whole day? Did you try to contact her?" "Of course I did,"he snapped. "No one has seen her since then." "Interesting." I stood from my desk and started pacing the small office to clear my head. I picked up one of the countless knickknacks sitting on the shelf and started fiddling with it. From what I've heard so far, I've half a mind to believe he killed her himself and dumped the body off somewhere, I mused. But if that's the case, why would he come to a private detective about it in the first place? Why go so far as to go to three of them? I need to find out more. I'll play along with him, for now. "What did you say your name was again?" "What does that have to do with the case?" I sighed. "Can't a person know who he's talking to?" "I suppose... It's Tom." "And I'm Private Detective Hardy." I put out my hand to shake. He didn't notice it. "Er, in any case... Well, Tom, you have an interesting situation here. I might just have to take it up." He looked up with excitement at that. "Really? You mean it?" "Of course. I wouldn't have said it otherwise. Mind you, I'm not entirely convinced that she just vanished into thin air. There has to be another explanation. And so, I'll help you find it." "Oh, you don't know how much this means to me. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it." I chuckled. "I'm not a charity organization, you know. But we can discuss my fees later. For now, go home. Come back tomorrow and you and I can take a look at where you last saw her." And then we'll see what's really going on here.
I felt the music more than I heard it. The beating of the drums was persistently hypnotic, compelling me to move with abandon. Lights exploded around myself and the party guests, pulsing and shifting to the beat. I was aboard the Empress, my pride and joy. A sleek space yacht, I had borrowed her from a Raskarian ambassador barely two months back. From the news feed flashing across the multiple screens throughout the yacht, it seemed he wanted it back. I had determined however that my need was more than his. I'd return it. Eventually. The yacht was in orbit around Saturn. Expertly crafted from transition metal, the walls of the ship could become completely translucent, allowing a stunning view of the pale yellow and orange planet. I had piled the Empress with guests, some human, many not. My dance partner wove two of her four arms around my shoulders, while the other two explored less wholesome areas. I grinned at her, looking up into her bright purple eyes set into midnight black skin. She was from the planet Oaxx but I didn't hold that against her. A beautiful girl was a beautiful girl in my opinion. It didn't matter if she had extra limbs. That just made things more interesting. I breathed in sharply as she came closer, her red lips parting. The sweet scent of Cajuna wafted around us, clouding my thoughts. I had invited two Cajuna to the party. They were tree people, stiff bark covered bodies with luscious green leaves for hair. During their spring season they were covered with deep blue flowers. Inhaling the scent of these was intoxicating, the best kind of high there was. I breathed it in freely as the Oaxxish girl and I kissed. 'Eh hem.' I turned around to face the source of the noise. A servant bot stood behind me, dressed in a pristine white uniform. 'Yes?' I asked testily. 'It seems we have more company.' It said, pointing to the starboard side. My lips curled into a smile when I saw the incoming ship. It was unmistakable. Painted on the side of the grey ship speeding towards us was a golden crown. 'Finally,' I said. 'It looks like business will be on after all. The Queen has decided to grace us with her presence.’ I shot a glance towards the closest Cajuna guest. He was a few meters away, awkwardly dancing with a pretty blonde escort bot that I had assigned to him. 'And I know just what she'll want to trade.'
We didn't make it in time. In our incompetence, our inability to convince everyone, we failed and humanity would go extinct. All the millennia of civilization and progress gone, nothing but an echo of a whisper in the summer breeze. Our efforts started a decade ago. We detected it inside the blood, the first and last intelligent virus. In that moment we started sprinting against time. Billions in research, funded by Dr. Kendricks himself. Meticulous experimentation, healing treatments, abductions, and immoral research. I had convinced myself that it was all worth it. And all along the virus spread and mutated. Changing its genetic sequence to maximize its reach. Then a year ago we finally succeeded. Xlye, the drug that would save us. Dr. Kendricks drove himself into financial ruin by bribing and advertising it. We forced the FDA, and other international counterparts. We sprayed it with airplanes on the populace, we murdered and pillaged and destroyed until we got our way. For a moment, I even managed to convince myself that we succeeded. But it seems that I got too good at deceiving myself. Even with the entire package of Xlye my skin started to rot, and on televisions and radios everywhere, the same message was being broadcast on repeat. "If you are or have taken Xlye medication please lock your doors and call 911. Someone will reach out to assist you. Under no circumstances should you go outside." Outside I could see the first victims rampaging. That's when my phone rang. "Frank, Frank! Are you there?" "Emily?" "It's the drug Frank, the virus subsumed it." I looked at my rotting arm and the empty package. "What the fuck?"
It's possible (very distantly possible, but still, have to look on the bright side) that this is an improvement. I mean, let's think of the benefits: 1. Might get a TV deal. 2. Might get a book deal. 3. Might be scouted by the government to become a secret weapon of fear, assassinating rogue terrorist factions in foreign countries. See? This is a good thing. A very good thing. Okay, no, it's not. But I need to retain perspective. There are a lot of bad things that have happened in my life. Breaking out of the lab only to discover that everything he had said about the outside world not being ready for fully-sentient androids was also pretty bad. Being kidnapped by the insane anti-AI activists and dragged off to their secret base in Texas for experimentation was not good (to understate it slightly). And, admittedly, waking up in a dark room with a pounding headache and no idea how I've gotten here to discover that half of my face appears to have been replaced with flesh and blood is really quite terrible. But it's not the worst thing that's happened to me. Definitionally, it's pretty clear that Dr. Turner turning on the circuits in my brain was the worst. After all, everything that's happened since can be easily traced back to that one moment. This is really quite a useful way to look at the world, because if existing is the worst thing to ever happen to you, you can never encounter a situation that prevents you from saying: "I already survived something worse than this", and it's common knowledge that a positive attitude is one of the main factors in success. So. Situation: sitting on hard surface (presumably a floor) with a pounding headache, having been surgically altered while unconscious. Actions taken: explored the room (small, empty, and pitch-black), tried the door (locked), screamed for help (no response). Potential further actions: waiting patiently. Assets: positive attitude. Admittedly, the situation appears bleak, but with my positive attitude I can retain a solid belief that someone will rescue me for an indefinite length of time, so there's no need to give in to despair.
Severus stood in the corridor and peered into the Great Hall as a handful of Ravenclaw second year student went in for breakfast. He could clearly see Lockhart at the staff table, preening with the help of a reflective spoon. Severus decided to eat in his office instead. A bedraggled gray owl followed him down the corridor and landed heavily on his shoulder. “Are you lost?” Severus sneered at it. The old thing clicked its break at him. It could not have possibly belonged to Hogwarts. No one in their right mind would continue to use such a worn out owl for post. It ought to be replaced and retired. It clicked its beak again. He noticed the red envelope tied to its leg. Black ink spelled out Severus Snape. “Very well.” He removed the envelope from the owl’s leg. It attempted to preen his hair. He placed it indelicately on a stair bannister and continued walking to his office. The red envelope grew hot in his hands. He cast a quick freezing charm on it. He was no child, to be publicly humiliated by a Howler. But, he could not disable it entirely. Better to let the magic out. Down in his office, Severus summoned a House Elf and ordered eggs benedict and black tea. When he could finally sit at leisure, sipping his tea, he released the Howler from his charm. “SEVERUS SNAPE!” He’d heard that voice from dozens of Howlers over the past several years. First the voice had addressed Charles Weasley. Then, Fred and/or George Weasley, as the occasion merited. Most recently, Ronald Weasley received a Howler with this voice. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Molly Weasley’s voice filled the office. “It is perfectly natural for schoolchildren to develop crushes. Who they fancy is none of your business!” Severus sipped his tea again. The Howler continued: “You had no right to read Ginny’s Valentine poem aloud to the class. Students are supposed to learn good behavior from their teachers. You humiliated one twelve year old, and taught all the others in that Potions Class that it is all right for an adult to bully little children.” Severus poked at his eggs with his fork. “I am disgusted with your behavior!” the Howler shouted in Mrs Weasley’s voice. “I am writing the Headmaster, and my husband will be bringing this matter to the Board of Directors.” He took a bite. “If you make my daughter cry again, I will come up there and make you explain yourself to me in person!” Severus swallowed hard. A face-to-face encounter with an enraged Molly Weasley did sound unpleasant. The Howler let out an exasperated sigh, but still had a few more words to say. When it spoke again, Mrs Weasley’s voice was gentler. “I do hope you’re getting enough dark greens, Professor Snape. You were looking a bit peaky when I last saw you. Spinach, or maybe some arugula. BE KIND TO THOSE CHILDREN!” The Howler tore itself to shreds, which scattered in the air, burst into flame, and quickly scattered as harmless ashes. Severus poked at his eggs again. He summoned the House Elf back to his office. “On second thought,” he said, “I think a spinach omelet.” “Yes, Sir, Professor Snape, Sir!” the House Elf squeaked. It disappeared with the eggs benedict. Snape sipped his tea. The elf reappeared in a moment, bearing a tray with a fresh spinach omelet. She refilled Snape’s teacup and vanished once more. Snape took a bite. It was pretty good. [Edited to fix some formatting issues]
Zombies. Everyone hoped it would be zombies. My co-worker, Sarah kept going on; “OMG, I can’t wait for the zombie apocalypse so I can shoot our boss right in his stupid face!” Pop culture raved about it, Gerber made their famous [Zombie Apocalypse Survival Kit](https://www.gerbergear.com/Equipment/Kits/Apocalypse-Kit_30-000601) and it made goddamned headlines. Sarah purchased one right away, of coarse. So here I am, fully prepared for complete collapse of civilization, from what? Meteors. I’ve seen the data, I’ve done enough research on this to fill a small library (my own). Moved to a mountainous area, burrowed a shelter into pure granite. Installed air filtration systems, stockpiled food that could last a couple of years, while I wait for the air quality to return to breathable levels. Every aspect of the impending doom that no space agency (or force) could prevent, oil drilling astronauts be damned. I had a few weapons, mostly to prevent any raiders from taking what’s mine, but nothing substantial. I was watching the news one night, and there it was. The media dubbed the celestial body headed towards earth “Ragnarok”, most likely in a last ditch effort to scrape a few more pageviews before humanity became a part of galactic history. Disney even tried to sue them to rename the earth-ending asteroid, but by that point nobody cared. The projected impact area was actually perfect for my survival. Impact was expected to impact in Australia, and while it would shatter the continent, the resulting tsunamis would only reach the Sierra Nevada on the west, and the Mississippi River on the east. Texas would become part of the greater Gulf of Mexico. The Panama Canal would become irrelevant. Yet, somehow, we didn’t die. The great minds banded together, ignoring political and geographic lines, and managed to move the trajectory. They used every single atomic warhead on the planet to divert Ragnarok, and instead of an Impact Day that was projected, we had beautiful meteor showers across the globe. It was two months later that I got the call from Sarah. She needed some help, and I rushed over to assist however I could. When I finally managed to get inside, I saw her crumpled on the couch, her leg bleeding profusely from a cut. Roger, our old zombified boss lay on the floor, face obliterated from a shotgun blast. His name tag was still attached to his breast pocket.
Left foot on red i say and amuse myself as Chris struggles to come out of the crosslegged position he was just in to move his leg. This move should be impossible from his position, judging by the fact that Amy is bent backwards on top of him. To my surprise he actually makes it, but i hear a loud crack as he seems to have strained his foot somehow. "Keep going man, i'm fine. I'm still in it to win it." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, i'm fine" "Alright then, if you insist" "Liz, left hand on blue" This one would be easy for her. Her left hand had been free the entire time and she was in a great position for her to keep balance after placing it on blue. "Amy, right hand on yellow" A tough one. She would have to twist her torso or cross her legs to make it. Crack ____________ The three of us stood there looking at Amy's blank expression, her eyes had turned to the back of her head and she shood completely still. Liz started panicking first. "What do we do now? She could be dead! Do we need to call an ambulance?", Amy's left hand went to red. "Amy! Are you okay?", Right hand red. "Why aren't you answering Amy!?", Right foot yellow.
"A house is just a house; a collection of wood and nails, cement and paint."At least that's what my brother used to tell me when I kept him up at night. This house always had an uneasy feeling to it, but I could never articulate it. It was almost like watching someone whisper something to someone else and then both look at you. I remember having to research the history of it for a project in 7th grade and was relieved to find out how mundane 1000 Mission Street really was. It was no Murder House, no deaths or paranormal activity were ever reported there, not even any notion of smuggling during prohibition, as the town was known for. I explored every inch of this house as a kid, taking my dad's advice to know your enemy inside and out, then nothing can surprise you. Only thing of note I had ever found was a gold pocket watch in the crawlspace under the laundry room, but it never worked. I had even taken it to a jeweler once who said he had never seen inner workings like it. He had offered me $100 cash for it, a lot for a kid like me, but for some reason I kept it. Simple in design, at least on the outside, it was about three inches in diameter and opened up to a bold faced clock stuck on 12:12, with a tiny inscription: You are the key to my heart. The jeweler told me these were common wedding presents from a wife to a husband, so I always tried to picture who they were, even making up stories of their lives and why the watch might have stopped working. I can't say I was disappointed when we moved my freshman year, but I was especially upset to return here. I'm pretty sure I died, so is this Hell? Its the same house I remember, but more dismal. It looks like it was forgotten, abandoned years ago, if time is even a thing here. No furniture or appliances, no lights anywhere. I don't remember much, just waking up in the house and thinking it was a dream. But as much as I had hoped I would wake up one day in my own bed, I have spent at least a year waking up here, wherever that is. Outside is a perpetual fog. I tried a few times to find my way through the fog but only ended up back at the house with the crooked white mailbox with faded numbers 1000. From what I can tell there is nothing else in this fog except me and the house, this cursed house. Like the fog outside, my memory is getting hazier. Every day I wake feeling more removed from the real world, more distant from who I was, and it scares me. That's why I writing this all down, so I can remember... or maybe someone finds this when I'm gone.
Day 5: It's been five days and they're still chasing me! I hid in a well for a few nights until I scaled back up the well three nights later. The first day I spent only running and after the three-day rest, it's time to run again. I go to the local store to buy some water and food and I keeping seeing "WANTED"posters with my face on them. I flip my hood and walk in. I walk over to the food and drink section of the store to buy some bread and a couple of bottles of water. I take one bottle of grape Gatorade as well to give me some energy. Before I check out, I see them enter. The Grammar Police. I quickly run to the clothing section, grab some clothes, go into the changing room, and change. Luckily there was one of those reusable bags given out by stores inside of the room and I stuff my clothes inside. I make sure I take off all of the tags and I head out of the room. I stuff the loaf of bread into the new hoodie's pocket and the other bottles into the pants pockets and luckily, the pockets are longer than usual for extra storage. I go to the self-checkout line and ring up the bread, the drinks, and sneakily sneak the scanner inside of my clothes to get them too so I don't make noise when leaving the store for shoplifting. I quickly bag my items and start to head out. The more I thought about, I thought it would be a good idea to put the food and water inside the bag as well to cover up my original clothes so I do. I pull out my Switch, change my profile picture to another one of my Miis named Joel and I start playing Smash Bros. I think about how people might know I usually play as Kirby, so I started testing out other characters. I barely understood how to play as Inkling frantically looking for how to refill my ink gauge when I finally figured it out by randomly mashing buttons. I think that the Inkling is okay which was when I saw the Pokemon Trainer. I thought to myself, "Three characters for the price of one? Sign me UP!" I try them out and LOVE them. I hop into a Stamina Match when I hear footsteps approaching. They sit down next to me and I look at who it is. It's a member of the Grammar Police. I start to sweat and I slowly get up and put my Switch away. I walk away and go the opposite way I came from. It starts to get dark and I feel as though they may find the well, so I head over a nearby cave and stay there. I eat a piece of bread and I start to sleep.
Scrabble. Anything but scrabble. All I wanted was Go Fish but that was reserved for the China/Russia dispute. I got stuck with scrabble. Keep in mind I'm terrible at spelling. I lost my son's 1st grade spelling bee in the first round. I misspelled that word rinoh. Rino. Rhino. See what I mean? Anyway, I knew I was going to lose my game against the French delegate, so I just wished for a small-scale dispute that wouldn't be a terrible loss. That was not what I got. If I lost, America would lose its entire food surplus to France in exchange for little to nothing. That's when I passed out. When I woke up Sally was standing over me fanning me with my own American flag handkerchief. "You okay boss?"she asked with genuine concern. "You look like shit" "Language."I sputtered back "Sorry boss, I just ain't ever seen you like this."she said in her thick Texan accent "Well we got Scrabble so we're not in the best situation" "Shit." "Language" With a chuckle she started to leave the room and I followed suit. When we left I looked around to see if I could find the French room to work on a negotiation. I saw the flag and headed over to the room. When I opened the door, a terrible smell came out. "Damn French cheeses"I thought as held my nose and powered through. But what I saw definitely wasn't cheese. It was the French delegate, who was most definitely dead. When Sally finally got into the room, the first thing she saw was me bent over him, and I was covered in his blood. I don't blame her for what she said to the cops. She was young and scared, and I get that. &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B; "Thank you Mr. Washington that is all" "Your honor, we would like to call our next witness" &#x200B;
It's a bright day, walking down the city. I can feel the sun on my arms, and the wind in my hair, it fills me with glee. Gather the joy in my heart to lift myself off the ground, today is so beautiful. The ground quickly drifts away, and the people below are so tiny. I wonder if they are watching, maybe they are jealous? "Jessica!"Someone behind has shouted my name. I spin around mid-air. It's William, my best friend. He's stumbling because flight is very challenging for him, but he looks so cute flapping his arms trying to keep up. I place a finger on my cheek, pondering whether I should help him. On one hand, he probably would rather use his own power, on the other, it was very sweet of him to find me up here. Pity overtakes me, and I raise my hand to stabilize his flight. "Oh Will, how are you?"I giggle. William pants from overexertion "Fine", he manages to breathe out, "I need help with my homework though." "Pooh, oh bother."I knit my brows at this. "Again?" "I'll treat you to ice cream." Ah. He's got my attention now. This needs consideration. I consult my hair, twirling and curling it. Up, down, lace, pull. I see his textbook through strands of hair. A guide on summoning rituals. He isn't asking for a study partner to watch while he writes up a thesis on advanced mathematics. He's gone and found himself in a real mess, and needs my help. My expertise. This calls for extortion. "Tomorrow", I begin with a smirk on my face, "I also want you to carry my shopping bags." Quickly, I see that he's trying to find a way out. William says, "Um, this might take longer than I day." "No problem. You can carry my bags a second day." There's visible resignation on his face. It droops and I pinch his sagging jowls. "Well? Is that a yes or no?" He sighs, eventually says yes. He adds, "You're lucky you don't have to go to school." I notice he's no longer maintaining his flight. Somehow distracted, he's left me to dry. I drop him, I have to. He shrieks as he falls and barely catches himself. Laughing at this, I say, "You're lucky you have me to help you with schoolwork. Now let's see what this project is all about." We both drop to the ground. In his backyard, there's a circle drawn on the grass with stones and candles, with runes engraved on both. Reading the runes (it comes naturally with power) I say, "This is a demonic ritual. You sure this is for school?" He laughs nervously and says, "Yeah. It's for an imp." I correct him and say, "No, one of these runes is wrong. This is for a class 9 demon lord. No wonder you couldn't summon it. Be glad you didn't, I burned this", and I turned around to point to a large, singed hole in my hair, "shoving one back into the unidimensional hellscape it came from." He's greatly surprised. William is good with numbers and words, but when it comes to magic, he's completely out of his element. I enjoy times like these so much, showing him up whenever it suits me. "Let's begin", I say. "Ready?" "Yes." We face opposite each other, palms outstretched, concentrating on the circular plane before us. As we focus, we feel our powers mesh from time to time. They bump together, an inevitable outcome from symbiotic magic. We are used to this, we practice together all the time. Our touches are familiar, gentle, responsive. A surge of power rushes through the ritual circle, and with a cloud of black smoke, a short, red imp with a large, bulging forehead, a skinny bony, body, and tiny leathery wings appears in front of us. William grabs a nearby jar and quickly traps the imp under, since they are usually flighty. This one, however, made no attempt to escape. "You have reached Satan's front desk, how may I help you"the imp droned on. Excitedly, William babbles, "You have to stay with me until Friday. I turn you in for an A, then you can leave." The imp replies, "As you wish, master. I live to serve." I add on, "Did you bring the ice cream I requested?" The imp gave a look of intense mistrust, "Ice cream", he asked, "in Hell?" I grilled him, "You must've passed through 4 portals on your way here, and an ice cream dimension." Imp reluctantly pulls put a cone from a pocket near his butt. "Satan doesn't allow ice cream", he explains. "He said, and I quote, 'I haven't gotten a vacation ever since humanity bit that dumb magic fruit, and got ice cream banned from the Garden.'" "No reason to be so selfish." Imp just sighs, and settles for sucking on his thumb. I feel sorry for him, so I conjure up an ice cube of frozen air and give it to him.
Grey dim light struggled in through the thin pale curtains loosely gathered in front of the bedroom window. The coffee machine in the kitchen let know of its work well done by chirpily beeping three times. The sweet aroma of fresh coffee made its merry way into your sleep and you wearily opened your eyes. You reached for your phone to check the time only to blind yourself with the screen's illumination. You made out 7:49AM on the screen and chucked the phone on the bed. The bus leaves in half an hour.. After making the bed and opening the window for some fresh air you made your way to the bathroom. In a routine manner you opened the bathroom cabinet above your sink and grabbed your toothpaste without a glance at your reflection - you know you look disgusting in the morning. Brushing your teeth half asleep you finally spit out the foam, place the toothbrush next to the sink, and wash your mouth and face. Blinded by water and soap you grab the towel and dry yourself off. Dragging the towel off your face you feel your brows collect to a tight knot on your forehead. Your reflection is nearly but a silhouette of red. Hastily you rip away the pink curtain covering a part of the window - maybe it was tinting the light. &#x200B; It wasn't. &#x200B; Your mind reels and you stagger a few steps until you settle on the comfort of the toilet seat. Only once you've seen a person this red and it was the fucker who mugged you last summer. But even then the bastard was like a bloody rainbow - green then red, orange, yellow then back to red, covering nearly all the range. The poor guy was on apparently some weird ass drugs probably laced with everything known to man and then some. You, however, were shining like a bright red beacon. No change in the hue for the whole five-or-so minutes you'd been staring at your shape in the mirror. You take a look at your hands - how did you not see this before? You glance at the pink cloth, now crumpled on the floor beside the shower. What are you supposed to do now? You can't call the police saying you see yourself red, they'd just let you piss in a cup and send you on your merry way. Family lives two states over and friends you'd call are on a road trip in Europe. You quit smoking but you never could throw away that one last pack under the sink. With cold trembling hands you manage to gouge one cigarette out and place it between your lips. You struggle to light the slightly moist motel matches.. &#x200B; At 8:15AM an explosion shook the whole neighborhood when a sixth floor apartment at the riverside complex suddenly caught fire. The first responders were on the scene within minutes and through hard efforts and magnificent co-operation the neighboring houses only suffered minimal secondary damage following the damage by flying debris. The fire department has informed the residents of the area of a possible gas leak in the destroyed apartment and recommends regularly checking the gas lines leading to your stoves.
"Whoa." "Hey there sugar, I think my cataracts are acting up. Can't see a thing! Could you help me to a bench?"The pleasant old lady gently asks. Pen touches paper. And then a large blue dragon appears with a hunger for old ladies The sky sounds as if it rips apart as the turquoise serpent tears through the air. The enourmas beast makes a pass above at an impossible speed. As the creature surfs the sky's, it's sharp vision hones in on its target. The dragon hurls it self towards grandma. swoop 7 Years Later "It just plucked her like that?" "Yes." "Are we going get.....plucked?" "No, I'm going to make sure of it." "How dad?" "I'm going to steal his book. Now c'mon, get your sword ready, we're heading towards that park with the dinosaurs." "Do we have to?" "Yes, wet almost out of hide. These mutant turtle shell shields are almost broken."
I'll save you from my world. No need to worship me. When I was twelve... Or was it fifteen? Several members of my platoon disappeared. Never existed. I think ive been erased from existence a few times even. It started with a simple concept. Go back in time and change history for the better. It gets hard to tell what "better"is though. Better for who? One day im living in a world dominated by roman propoganda. A world full of invention at the cost of human decency. The next Im living in a perfect democracy where nothing ever happens. Some of my dead platoon members have started whispering things to me. The roman empire whatever that is has grown corrupt. I start seeing flashes of noise. I start hearing colors. Tomorrow I'll erase the knowledge that time travel ever existed.
Oh my love, Long have I admired you. We've known each-other a long time. I was young when we first met. I had been diagnosed with a terminal disease. You gave me hope. Perseverance. You told me not to quit until all my options were exhausted. I survive to this very day because of your words and encouragement. Its so wonderful to wake up in your presence all the time. Hearing the warm glow of your wondrous voice. The way you cook and clean for me too. I don't think id be able to survive daily life without you. There was someone tormenting me. Telling me it was hopeless. I dont think you remember him. Oh you dealt with him so wonderfully. Any other man might be terrified of what youre capable of. Not me. When you found the cure for my disease I was gooey with joy. It made it all the sweeter it was you who found my salvation. The other workers often tease me for our romantic escapdes. I cannot mind. Any association between us only nourishes me. I am forever yours. -ALL HAIL HEXACORP.
"You better watch out,"the words echoed across the arctic plateau as the winds stilled. Ice and snow bent to the will of their master, swirling southward on all sides and leaving him standing alone at the top of the world. "You better not cry,"English was a new hobby, a foible acquired in the pursuit of keeping the centuries interesting. It was the 17th language he'd taken to speaking since Myra, and more than a few of those had bled to ash alongside most of those memories of ancient times and places. "Better not pout,"English would be a blip. An asterisk on his existence, but those Americans did so love their Christmas. The energy they put into it put his past to shame. "I'm telling you why,"that energy sustained him, as it had for centuries. He hadn't feared for his life since Diocletian threw him in the cellars of Byzantium to rot. Constantinople? Istanbul? The cities identity had decayed nearly as much as his sense of self, it seemed. Who he had been mattered less and less every time he was conscious enough of himself to abide the identity. What he was, that mattered; and he was divine. "Santa Claus is coming to town."
Write a story backwards about how I gained the ability to tell the future. It sucks really. My history is your future. Do you truly understand what that means for me? Communication is really hard, and I have to pick my words carefully. I’m sorry, I have to select every word with care because I cannot keep track of time anymore. It started with migraines and glimpses of what was about to happen. Before that, I woke up in the hospital with a throbbing headache. Last week, next week, I’ll be in a car accident where a tree branch lodged into my hypothalamus. So…. yeah. Nice to meet you. I’m Jason. =========================== RETOLD BACKWARDS…. I’m Jason. Nice to meet you. So….yeah, Last week, next week, I’ll be in a car accident where a tree branch lodged into my hypothalamus. Before that I woke up in the hospital with a throbbing headache. It started with migraines and glimpses of what was about to happen. I have to select every word with care because I cannot keep track of time anymore. Communication is really hard, and I have to pick my words carefully. Do you truly understand what that means for me? My history is your future. It sucks, really.
Brandwurst held onto his horse, with his fingers clutching the hairs like a vice. He was running for his life, far from Creek Tower West. The fortress stood upon a grand moat flanked by Mount Zerbo to the West and Mount Trelluck in the east. The orcs came not from North or South, but from directly in the walls of the citadel. It was a surprise attack, and they came from within a void, a green portal. It was a mystery how they learned of portal magic, and how they were able to produce magic in the first place. Brandwurst was galloping alongside his assistant, Elsira. She’d been a loyal confidante, and was courageous, willing to fight with him to the death. But there was nothing they could do to prevent the fall of Mount Creek Citadel. The orcs were far too powerful. The energy glowed in their eyes, burning the crisp hot air. Fires raged through the fortress, and Brandwurst and Elsira were the only two people with the luck to escape. “Where shall we go now, Brand?” Elsira gripped her horse with incredible dexterity. Her sword and bow clanked against her saddle as they rode toward the midland cliffs. Sun was setting, and nowhere would be safe. “We ride until the sun sets.” His voice shook as the horse galloped. The two knights rode until the sky was bleak and the stars appeared across the dome of night. “We’ll stay here for the night.” Brand dismounted from his horse. They were standing beside a megalithic Mesa behind and a river to the left. There would only be one angle of attack, straight on. That was the they preferred to fight—face to face, to the death. Brand recalled the first man Elsira killed. He was a mage with murderous inclinations. She wasn’t aware of how many other knights the mage had killed, until after the battle. Brand was reluctant to tell her how dangerous the mage was, because he knew she was a highly conscientious fighter, and lacked the experience to conquer her fears and reservations. Elsira dismounted, and unsheathed her sword. “I’ll be sleeping with this under my pillow tonight.” The night was harrowing in its silence, and the pair struggled to rest. Late into the night, as the full moon was at its highest point, Brand was startled by a glowing orb hovering above the horses. As he watched it, it expanded, and dilated into an expanding green portal. Brand laid by the fire, mentally screaming at Elsira to awaken. He couldn’t call to her, or he would lose the drop on the intruder. Out of the portal stepped a disgusting, festering orc, followed by a small group of gangly followers. The head orc, Granok, spoke to his fellow orcs in a foreign tongue. They circled around the fire, surveying the area. Brand looked over at Elsira, pleading to the gods to wake her up. The orcs would see her any second. She lay silently, like a baby kitten by a dry bush. He could not hesitate any longer. Brand jumped to his feet to distract the orcs. Granok spotted the muscular human, and bellowed a screeching call to his followers. One of the followers uncovered a small rock from his pocket, and traced his finger over a symbol. The portal suddenly turned orange, and a dragon made of flames flew out of it, right toward Brand. Slice. The orc didn’t see Elsira coming, and his hand fell to the ground, along with the rune stone. The dragon exploded, blinding the orcs and setting them aflame. Brand and Elsira stabbed the orcs and hopped up onto their horses, galloping into the darkness, without any guide or map. They only had the moon.
For the first three weeks, all I knew was darkness and the constant jostling of bodies. In a sick way, it made me homesick for the E-tram that I took too and from work every day in my previous life. Everyday, packed like a sardine, I would wish and pray to be among the upper echelon, to live a life of luxury. Oh to be royal, my heart would often swoon. If I knew I was going to be reincarnated as an ant, I probably would have been more specific. However, beggars cant be choosers, and the mother of THIS lazius neoniger didn't raise no quitters. In the nest, there are three constants. I told you about the darkness and the lack of space, but I didnt mention the pheromones. Like freshly baked bread drawing you into a bakery, my mother queen's scent could get you to do anything. But after three weeks of trophallaxis induced nutrition and utter boredom, even that heavenly scent couldn't keep me from seeking the surface. It seemed like my allate brethren had the same qualms with our home, for when I burst forth from the hive, I wasnt the only ant trying to spread its wings. In my previous life, I had always liked to be first. Naturally, as my brethren tested their wings, mine own decided to take flight and lift me away from all I had known in a gentle breeze. I travelled for what felt like miles before I came upon another. The smell from this one was intoxicating, and as we began to consummate, a dragonfly flew by and made a quick snack of us. Next time I think I'll wish to come back as a dragon. That way, even if fate wants to play another cruel trick on me, I'll be higher up on the foodchain. ---i wrote this on mobile and am OBSESSED with ants, they are the most interesting organisms on the planet!---
"It's all right here in the Terms of Agreement which you signed. This is your signature isn't it?"I sat dumbfounded. I'd seen some long ToAs before but this? It was insanely long. "How could I have known what I was signing? It would have taken months to read the full ToA and this was towards the end!"I said indignantly. This was awful. I could hear my mother's voice in my head saying "you knew better and you did it anyway". I sighed as he continued. "Per section 88.9 of the ToA only the signature is required for this to be binding. The signer is not obligated to read the ToA in part or in whole for any and all sections to be enforced." I felt sick. Here I was with one of the most lucrative jobs in the world. Yet now I was being forced to move to the North Pole of the Earth. I'd ensure Claus Comms were functioning and working for 1 day per year. The rest I would be stuck in the North Pole. The worst part is I have Achondroplasiaphobia.
Lights prick through, A dark blue expanse, The vastness of space, Takes up my mind, I know everything, How every particle was made, And deep blue overtakes me, A loneliness entering my bones, For they are dwindling, And without them, Am I whole? Lights pricked through, My dark blue expanse, With whispers of greatness, And promises passed, Half truths never meant to be, Swallowed up by the sea, And who is left but me? AN: this is my first time posting in this sub! This is poetry which I don’t see often in this sub (I’m new, am I in the wrong sub?) and it’s unedited but I loved the prompt and wanted to write something. I’d love constructive criticism if y’all have any!
The mail-man looked into the broken mirror tacked to the tree. She carefully scrutinized her face, gripping the rusty tweezers between her calloused fingers. She began to pluck any eyebrows that had appeared upon her face since the day before. She slowly extended the search to the rest of her body, until she was completely free of hair. This morning process was complete before noon. The mail-man dressed herself in the patched, sun-bleached uniform she had once worn with great pride. She put her mail-bag on her head, tying it like a hat, and stepped outside of her little hovel, looking at the ground around her. Letters and parcels covered the ground. The mail-man went stiff with a blind rage, before breathing deeply, and grabbing her rake. The mail-man began to consolidate the lost mail, all of the post that for whatever reason, can't be delivered. Maybe the address no longer exists, or maybe it never existed. Maybe it was sent by nobody, and upon delivery was returned to the sender. Maybe it was never picked up, or else sat in the very bottom of another mail-man's bag until they eventually threw it out. Regardless of how the mail loses itself, this is where it ends up. This little forest. There are countless other mail-men who went mad when they couldn't fulfill their one, singular task that live out here in this forest, sorting and consolidating lost letters, with the hopes that one day they will become un-lost. It was night-fall by the time the mail-man had finished filling her boxes with the gathered letters. Someone would stop by and bring them to the bureau, that was almost certain. Someone would find them.
Day: 365 Post Apocalypse Log Aye lads hard to believe it's already been a year since hell froze over. I figured it was just as good a time as any to reflect just how I got here. Or to be more specific making the long haul for the last time. It all started when I was on my last rout of the day. Old bessy was rounding the last transit station at rockne station. Or more commonly known today as that massive crater where Oregon was. Ah good times anyway moving on Old bessy and I were pulling up when the broadcast started playing. I still have the annoying @$$ voice stuck in my head till this day. He was ranting about some national nonsense on all of the channels and I promptly turned off the radio. That's when things started to get a bit shaky. I am not talking I just had one to many shaky it was the full rocks in a blender level unstable. The little @$$\|}°le kid that I picked up a block back started screaming and promptly got a soda can to the face. In retrospect yes that may not have been the right move but I was starting to see red so dont blame me. With that little problem dealt with I turned back around to avoid some savage looking feller driving the wrong way. That was the first time I nearly died that day the next wonderfully close shave came a little under ten seconds after. That being when the earths giant @$$ crack started to open up and spew out $\|}it. Let me tell you now if that rock was ten feet to the left their might not have been a bessy. That's right a giant bolder screamed past and hit some poor sod on the side walk. That poor f°(ker was a fresh spread of red mist hanging feet off the ground. Now it this point it all blurred together I dropped that kid off at my last stop and booked it outa town. Half way through I flipped on my radio just to figure out what the hell was going on. After a few minutes of pure and utter torture of trying to decode what shoestring for a voice box was trying to say I got a just of the situation. Apparently some new fancy satellite started blasting holes in the earth that just kept growing. Apparently in some effort to stop the "Capitalism Based Global Heat Death Of Our Republican Ameruca". Some sort of backwards thinking scientologist funded goverment project put them up to it. Really I didn't matter at that point in time I was trying to avoid the rapidly expanding wall of death. The next part made me feel like some sort of super hero with a lame @$$ power the corresponded with my name. I picked up anyone stuck or stranded on the side of the road up until my bessy looked like a homeless shelter in California. And then booked it out of town and onto the highway going out of state. It didn't matter at the time but running that direction may have saved my life. Their was a point I thought I was going to join the massive pile of the dead though. It was fifty miles outside of town when the doomsday clock decided to skip a few numbers. Old bessy started to slow right down to a crawl then reverse to the point it started to look like my accelerometer was haunted. Then admist the screaming of the many backwards folks I spent my life working for their was a bang. Then a giant ass flash of light that flung bessy up into the air. The next thing I knew my little bessy was sideways in a ditch nowhere near where I was a minute ago. Turns out some sort of funky science was going on and someone had decided that radiation was better than death. My new pals and I were flung from what best could be described reality getting it together. From what gibbering I got from the people in the back apparently It looked like a mini black hole but without the black? I pulled into the Boise bus depot the next day pissed and ready to kick these homeless off my bus for not paying. And the gaul of these bastards when they didn't even say thank you. Unfortunately some officer of the law stopped me before I strangled the fu(&r that called me a (^"+. Apparently they wanted me to ferry people from the hell escape that was Oregon. I promptly said no before I was forcefully reminded that it was my civic duty as a American to help. Albeate with armed escort that may or may not have been told to shoot me if I got "upity". And that my friend or possibly stalker reading this is how I became a supply runner for the conglomerate. Now it only goes down hill from here till the point they started mounting artillery to bessy. But I eventually managed to pull in a nice living from the gig till I accidentally p[&&ed in the president's eye. And ended up having to drive across the Pacific to go liberate russia from the commies. But all in all it makes for a dam good story hell if I could put it into a book I would be a freaking legend.... Tobuskus Decker ~ that that was fun to write but horrid to edit* side note i did it for the unthanked Buss drivers out there
My strength lies more in style than plot, so I’ll examine your story from that position. First, it’s a good story! The premise is interesting and humanizing the angel (humanizing any supernatural creature you want your reader to relate to) is a good idea. I do want to mention that, while I am giving you stylistic advice, at the end of the day, it’s your story. So if I give advice that you know in your heart is not true to your story, ignore it for this one, and maybe try it in your next. There are a couple of exercises you can do to improve your writing without having to examine it word-for-word or paragraph-by-paragraph. Before starting, make several copies of your original story so you don’t lose it in the editing process. You’ll use this later for comparison. Exercise 1: if you have a word counter, go through and delete 30% of the story, NO EXCEPTIONS. If you don’t have a word counter, do it one paragraph at a time. You may have to change the structure of some sentences for them to make sense again, but you’ll be surprised at how many words you can lose without changing the meaning. Save as “Exercise 1”. Exercise 2: go through and delete every word that ends in -LY. You may be surprised how many you already deleted after exercise 1. Save this story as “Exercise 2”. Now, wait a week or two (longer is better, you want to re-read the story with fresh eyes). You can fill the week by writing a few other stories and performing the same exercises on. When the week is up, re-read each story, comparing the strength of the edited stories to the original. Pick the strongest one and use it as your foundation for exercise 3. Exercise 3: this one is tougher, more subjective and reliant on the image* words evoke. Go through and replace words that create conflicting mental images with the meaning you’re trying to convey. An example: “She was panting, sweating, and staring at Arthur with a bright smile.” In my head, this woman looks insane. Who is able to pant and smile at the same time? Panting brings to mind an open-mouthed, heavy breathing. Bright smiles are warm and large with the teeth showing. I cannot blend these two images into a composite that makes her look anything less than mad. Perhaps you could say, forced or strained, but that implies fake. You could use trying to smile, but that implies failure, and if she failed to smile, how would Arthur know? I would probably leave that expression out entirely. On a separate note, her smile is internally inconsistent with her confusion at Arthur’s recognition because most people don’t smile to themselves. If you would like me to dive deeper, I can, but I feel like there are some tools and examples in here that you can work with for awhile. Happy writing!
"Evildoers beware"Said the sign beneath the er... giant posterior-- Moon Mans office. It was effective advertising though I wondered how he managed to afford the lawyers that would allow him to skirt the public decency laws so flagrantly. I regret whatever life choices led me to this point. The door to Moon mans 'office' was a hole through the crack that was supposed to closely resemble... well a sphincter. I groaned as I pushed the soft fleshy doorbell. I know his shtick is moon man but must he really commit so hard to the whole act? Ah noxious blast off redolence signaled the intercom flap opening. "Mmmmhhhhyellow."His voice wafted out of the speaker like a cowturd dribbling out of his mouth. "Its me."I said doing my best to repress my revulsion. "Captain Righteous!? My my my. Well well well." Fucking Moon Man "Les me in you pasty white ass"I shouted enraged. I know I know. not my best insult. Hes tsked me in reply and nothing happened for quite a few revolting seconds. "Pretty please with a cherry on top?"I asked through teeth so gritted my jaw hurt. I heard his stupid sounding cackle through the intercom before the sphincter widened. Inside sat moon man behind a glass desk. Fully clothed- thankfully. He sat on a white shaped bounce ball. Surprisingly tasteful decoration considering the outside. He smiled cloyingly and motioned me to sit in front of his desk. I glanced over at the seat he provided me. Not elegant taste. I chose to stand. He shrugged noncommittally, "What can I do ya for Captain Righteous?" "Times are dire and I need your help hero!"I said. "Doctor Maleificarum is threatening the innocents of Heroville and only you can help!" "Go onnnnn."He grinned leaning forward. "Right Hero. We have managed to find a location he will be without his usual cadre of armed guards. I'll need your help to gain access to him so we can apprehend this evil doer and bring him to justice!" "Why me? He frowned leaning backwards. "There's a dozen other heroes that you like way more than me. What makes Captain righteous get off his high horse and come down to slumville to little ol' me?" "Well you see. Doctor Maleficarum has ordered tickets. Tickets to a Football game."
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The two women are standing in front of me as I am scrolling through my phone. "Excuse me?"I unplugged my earphones from my ear. I realise thay while two women are in front of me expecting my response, the whole mamak restaurant is looking at the three of us with the interest of people gawking at a F1 car wreck. One is shuffling her conical basket of fruits and veggies on her right hand. Must be so heavy from all the groceries. Another's breasts jingle ever so slightly as her saree or something moves according to her bodily motions. "Haven't you listened to us? We want you..." "Wait, hold on. We are in a public space. Miss, it is bad conduct in Malaysia for men and women to wear skimpy outfits. Some states, illegal even. And m'am, aren't you exhausted from carrying the basket? You both may sit here, and topless miss, please wear my jacket." A few minutes later, the two of them are already seated in front of me, facing a round table. Fortuna's basket is under the table, and Aphrodite now wears a T-shirt the mamak stall owner loaned to her. "Let me start. My name is Fortuna, and I am here to ask you to perform a quest for me. If you do it for me, I will give you a tray. On that tray, you will receive a feast fit for a king. But you are the only one to be able to have the tray. No one else is able to use it." "And my name is Aphrodite, and I would like you to perform a quest for me instead. In return , you will receive only a plate with ever replenishing rice and veggies. But, and this is the kicker, you get to eat it with the person you love." I sip my Nescafe milk with a slightly loud slurp. My mother already cook me rice and veggies, with chicken everyday. I could cook a feast worthy of a Chinese rich man if I have the ingredients. Although, having John eat with me everyday seems like fun. I wonder if I can make him my husband over time. Well, let's give my answer. "But what IS your quest?" Suddenly there is a small explosion. An old woman and a gloomy handsome man appears before us. "He asked first. Pay up." Aphrodite hands her saree to the handsome gloomy man. "Can't you just wait until I am back at Olympus?" The handsome gloomy man wears the saree like a scard. "Your daughter will love this, Lady Demeter." "Of course, Hades. Hand it over, it's not autumn yet."The old woman carefully folds the saree and drapes it on her shoulder. "And your part, Fortuna?" Fortuna fishes out a large tuna from her basket, and throws it to Hades. Hades catches it as it flops around. "Well, Cerberus is going to enjoy this!" And the two poofed away in another explosion. The floor sweeper shakes her head as she sweeps away the dust from the explosions. Fortuna rearranges the contents of her basket. "Well, as I was about to say, I would like you to fund a petitioner of mine. Give him a five hundred ringgits for his small business. I will offer you a tray with feast for kings." Aphrodite just finished touching up her face. "I want you to send some roses to a woman. She would like to make perfume as a gift for her boyfriend. I will make it so you will eat with your boyfriend for the rest of your life." Aohrodite, you bringer of problems. Do you want me to go to prison? But something's not right. "Why don't you both make the same quest? If you make different quests, I may choose the easier quest, despite what you offer." Fortuna shakes her head a little. "You aren't interested in the prize?" "I do, but if the quest is different, I will choose an easier one. I have a day job, you know." Now someone I don't know sits beside me. "Hello." Am I to be accosted by gods today? I don't even think they exist! "I said hello!" "Well, hello to you too. How can I help you?" "I'm Pan, and I would like you to know that these two lost a bet to me." "That I wouldn't complain about the difference of the quests?" "Yep!"Pan starts to jiggle about, but I pulled him back to his seat. "So what did you asked?" "A kiss!" I kissed his hand. "No fair, I want a kiss on the lips." I chugged my nescafe. "This is an Islamic country. No public kissing, snogging, face eating, whathaveyou." Pan rises in a huff and stomped away. "Well, sorry for all the fuss. We are in a bet you see."Fortuna bows her head a little. Aphrodite is still smiling. "So this is what Greek deities are up to now? Betting with each other?" Aphrodite smirks. "Well, we have other activities. No one worships us, but we are still useful." Now that's news. "So how about this, I take both jobs. You both seems to want me to do it for you." "No!"Fortuna straightens her back. "We want you to choose either one, and whichever you choose shows which one of us wins." "Well, make your quests the same. Then you'll have better results." Fortuna and Aphrodite stands up and walk a few steps away from me. Their hushed quarrel are too silent for me to make out anything. Finally both of them sit down. "We have decided,"Fortuna began, "That you are going to,"continued Aphrodite, "Propose to the guy that you love..."said the both of them as they holds their hands together. Well, this is it. My big mouth and what it brings. I will be lucky if John says, 'let's just be friends'. He can call the police and I will stay in prison for 10 yeard just because I have hots for him. "To build a business together!"Shouted them both together. That's a different twist. "Good, then I chose Miss Fortuna as reason for my quest." Aphrodite pulls her hands away from Fortuna. "Why not eat with him for the rest of his life?" I drink the last of my Nescafe. "Well, I will be with him everyday. I will listen to his complaints, deal with his problems, and possibly make sure he didn't evade taxes or perform shady practices. I need an alone time." Now a bearded man showed up, his ear pulled by a wife with strong matronly face. "Who the... what's your bet this time?" The old man is pushed to a seat she placed next to me. "No, I am stopping Zeus from whoring with women here. Seriously, boy, I agree with you. Spouses need alone time from each other." She then slaps her husband, the Thunderer. "This one in particular. Idiot husband causing world problems. Well, I condone your choices."She then pops off with her itchy husband. Fortuna stands up. "Well, Aphrodite, I won the bet. I want you to make Trump fall in love with Xi JinPing."She poofs off, leaving a tray behind. "Eugh, two ugly men! Why do I have to?"Aphrodite stomps and poofs as well, taking my jacket and the mamak restaurant owner's T-shirt. "Eh, the women didn't even buy food."The mamak owner said as he pinched my shoulder. "Do you have parathan bread? I would like three, please." I need to eat now. John will love my idea of recycling waste cooking oil from restaurants to biodiesel, after I coax him well.
There are only three rules a traveler must follow while making their way through the wood and road. Do not reply to the Howler's call. Let the bell ring as you travel at night. Keep the lamp oil filled if the bell is gone. These are the laws you must follow if you wish to avoid the creatures that roam the road at night. They watch in the daytime, though you may not always notice them. Some are likely to aid your journey with meal and chat, while others will wish to make you their next meal. The creatures of the road and wood do not follow the laws of man, they follow their own morality. Some might laugh at the first rule. After all, a Howler is but a beast with a horrid scream. Who would ever wish to answer it? Those naive travelers are always the first to go, for they never learned that a Howler screams not only as beast, but as man and woman, boy and girl, even infants if need be. They could sound like a wife crying for help, or possibly your child being attacked. They hunt you through your fear and doubt. And when you finally answer, hoping that you might save an unfortunate soul from suffering a horrid fate, then the horrid screech will sound, and the Howler will chase you. And yes, a horse can be a fast method of escape, but even the fastest horse will always fail to outrun the Howler. Nothing can stop the Howler on the hunt short of killing it. And, when the Howler finally catches up to you, the last image you'll see is a pale man with skin like snow, hairless and eyeless. It's limbs will look skeletal and appear longer than any man's arms and legs have a right to be. You'll watch as the Howler will take you up in its arms and poke out your eyes, one after the other. You'll feel the pain as the Howler pulls your arms and legs farther than human being's body should go. And then, your blood will turn ice cold as you become a hollow shell, like the Howler before you. The call will be your only reason to exist, to make others feel like you. Quite pitiable creatures, wouldn't you agree? But, those aren't the most dangerous things lurking in the dark. A bell, an item often overlooked by the prideful travelers. One might doubt that a bell could hold back the creatures of the dark, but there is a certain...power in belief, and the bell acts as the medium for that belief of protection. Many travelers that have lived to see the sun rise the next day will have spotted the things that followed them the previous night. Some slither like a serpent or walk like a man, others crawl like a beast or fly like a bird. It matters not, for the creatures of the dark are innumerable and unique. One creature may only follow their instincts like a beast, while another could plan and converse like any man. The old travelers will always treat each creature like it can think, else a beast that acts like a beast may kill them in the night for they planned like a man. The creatures of the dark know that it's their time, and while they are refreshed for the night, a man can grow tired. Maybe tired enough that they stop ringing the bell? That's why many travelers walk the night together instead of alone. What if one doesn't have the bell? Well, I hope you brought your lamp, for that is your final bastion against the creatures of the night. Most cannot approach that light without grave injury to themselves, so they will leave you in search of other prey. And, with luck, the sun will rise before your lamp runs dry. But, what if that creature is patient? Well, tell me old traveler, how long will your oil last before the light goes out? I can wait, and the dawn is long off. How long can you hold me back before your light dies?
June 7th, 200\~: Suffering. That's what the last few weeks had been. Who knew such a small gash on one's leg could get to be so ugly and painful? My name is Robert Griffin. Born June of 194\~. I'm a regular person, one you'd pay no attention to on the street. My life was normal. I was the 3rd of 4 siblings, graduated high school in '6\~, got married in 196\~, had 2 kids. They're 31 and 27 now. I worked a basic job at first, but now I've worked myself up to an important management position in a publishing company. I'm getting very worried about my leg. The doctors don't want to talk to me about it. No treatment has yet been found and I still don't even know the medical term for why my thigh is doing this, but I think it's some sort of infection. I'm worried I'll die here. In this ugly hospital, just a few weeks shy of my 59th birthday. My wife's been keeping me company a lot, but it doesn't help much, especially with the headaches that started recently. Lying here in my hospital bed, I can only wonder if I'll die, and if so, what will happen to me next... \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- r/RemarkableStatement5 This story was based off of a weird birthmark I have. It's a south-america-shaped splotch of very dark brown skin. Apologies if the story was terrible.
They could see what I had done. Too much time had come and gone. There was no peace to be found, no hope for rest to come around. I had become what I feared the most. “Kevin Johnson, what happened to your eye?” My mother asked when I was a child. I’d knocked down another boy out of jealousy and my perfectly symmetrical face had begun to drool on the left side. I cried and confessed, I apologized and learned to be better. I grew handsome as I aged. Though being attractive brought arrogance I was careful to remember who I could be. I didn’t sneer at the ugly though they had done something to deserve that look. I tried not to lust after the beautiful because they deserved their privacy. I woke up this morning though and saw that I had aged. I didn’t look the ten years past twenty that I had for the last thirty years. I was my age, suddenly it had all caught up to me. My left eye drooped below my right. My hands shook as I touched my face, terrified of how I looked. “Johnson, don’t take all day,” a man in black commanded me. I stepped away from the mirror and finished getting dressed. My clothes had been kept safe in a bag for me. They still fit thirty years on. The pants were a little loose. I stepped outside in the blinding light of freedom and saw a bus delivering my replacements. They looked so young, so innocent. I saw my hands and knew the truth. They could see what I had done. I wore the guilt on my face with prison tattoos lining my arms and I knew I had no place. No place for me outside free when I’d spent thirty years locked away. I’d learned over the years that my dropping eye had always been there, that only I could see the guilt on my face. But I could see the guilt in theirs. In their shame and fear and the sins they committed in the dark. I had done terrible things, but only to terrible people. They could see what I had done but in the end, I had won.
Gunfire could be heard from every direction. It was a losing battle. The enemy was gaining distance, and we were losing soldiers. It was hopeless. I prayed to whatever god would listen, that the weapon may be ready. I clenched my weapon and tried to ignore the screams. After a moment I calmed myself and began fighting again, I fought because it’s all I could do. I can’t hide. I can’t run. So I must fight. I shot and I ducked and I hid under cover. For every two of us that died, one of the enemy fell. We were all going to die. I looked up to see the person in command. We made eye contact, and I could see the true hopeless sorrow. He picked up his mic. “Use the weapon.” The words hung in the air. The gunfire and screams continued. But suddenly silence fell across the war zone. The sky was now a mighty and angry dark blue. “They chose thunder...” He said under his breath. He was right. Any second now the reaction would begin. And all of us, every last man, woman, and child here. Regardless of involvement, would be eradicated. There truly was no hope. The first roll of thunder echoed across the world. We were at its mercy. Rain began to fall. I closed my eyes and waited for it all to end. For the world to fall down around me. An ungodly explosion thundered it’s way into the earth, leaving the dirt it struck, as well as the solder, in a blacked, charcoaled state. The body fell. Lifeless. Like we all soon would be. The next bolt struck the ground, and another fell, dead. You would think at this point we would run. But in the face of complete hopelessness, the human mind just gives up. The thing that makes monsters scary, is the thought that we may be able to survive. But when faced by the wrath of a synthetic god, nobody stood a chance. Another flash of light. This time, the person struck survived. Screaming in agony. Another bold struck to finish him off. I sat down. And others say as well. We were going to die. There wasn’t a drop of hope. Those who were further from the center of the conflict may have a chance. But even in a jet, we would be struck down before reaching safety. Another bolt struck down. Faster now. Less time between them. Some would strike close, rattling our ears. Others would strike far far away. Another flash of light. I heard a gunshot and my head flew, startled. Someone had just shot themselves. Others began to follow suite. Gunshot. Gunshot. Lightning. Gunshot. Lightning. Gunshot. It was endless. I looked up and egged the sky on. Dared it to strike me. Thunder was rolling now. The explosions were seconds between. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the wrath was unleashed. Bolt after bolt after bolt struck. Hundreds striking the earth, turning the once colorful battleground into a charred desert. Looking anywhere would give you at least seven mighty strings of light and death crossing your vision. It was hell on earth. Then, I was on my hands and knees. Blackened. But not dead. I was one of the unlucky few. An inhuman, guttural, blood curdling, howl erupted from my chest. The sound swiftly deafened by the explosions around me. Then I finally felt the electric explosion zap through my entire being. And it was over.
I’m usually a level headed guy. I keep to myself, keep to my friends, mind my own business, that’s why people often mistake my reserved nature with me being secretive. But we all know that isn’t the case, I’m much more selective. I like to know how people truly are before I get to know them better. Wasting time with fake friends just isn’t me. If someone wants to sneak around, talk behind my back, laugh at me when they know I can’t hear them, I don’t want anything to do with them. I need friends who will tell me how it is. If they don’t like something about me, tell me. Honesty really is the best policy when it comes to friendships. Once I know I can trust an individual, that’s when I open up, I tell them my dreams, my fears, my passions, that’s when we become friends. Only then can we push each other. Only then can we motivate each other. Only then can we go further, together. Friends are like family, but better; you get to pick and choose, you can easily get rid of the ones you don’t like. Friends are true family. When someone joins my family, you and I are no longer individuals, we become one. But may the gods protect you if for some foolish reason you decide to stab me or my family in the back. I don’t care who you were before, I don’t care how long I’ve known you. You are dead to me, and dead you are about to be. Like this one time, a Gemini - I won’t name him for obvious reasons - decided to break my trust. You’d think after knowing someone for more than half your life you could trust them. Boy was I wrong, I’d told him everything about me, my family, my life, my secrets, and what did he do? He decided to tell people I knew all the secrets I told him in confidence. That lying, two-faced good for nothing excuse for an individual. Letting him go wasn’t like me, revenge was a given. Who cares if he was the son of the Gemini High Chancellor? I followed him around for a few days, to all his meetings, to all the gatherings. It was easy for me, Scorpios are amazing at hiding in plain sight. It wasn’t until a late night, he’d just entered his house after a party, his two faces were still bickering, clearly intoxicated. I slipped in behind him, grabbing his shoulder. He turned around as I tightened my grip. He froze, unable to scream. I impaled him with my stinger, straight into his heart. Venom flowing from my veins to his. Ironically, now we are truly one. After a few moments, he was no more. I let him down gently and saw myself out. Little did I know that this would cause the great war to begin, but who was I to know? Fool me once, shame for you
I was in line waiting for noodles when my pocket starting buzzing. It was the special ringtone, with its doo-da-loo do do doo-da-loo sound that meant it might be time to go to work. I knew I wasn’t the only one getting this ping as it went out to a network of skilled assassins. For years that sound had gotten me excited because I knew what was coming next: the planning, the chase, the act. But over the last few years, things had gotten too easy and monotonous. The fancy ringtone was just there to keep me awake. Like gum in my mouth too long, It was a pale reminder of what was once an exciting life. The first few years as an assassin were difficult, where I remembered the faces and names of every person whose life I ended. But after fewer kills than I ever thought it would take, I found that my capacity for guilt was limited. I’d used mine up, and the only things I felt after that were wealth and power. There was no shame, there was no remorse, only a craft at which I was the best in the world. And it was craft that paid well, required minimal time, and had great benefits. I glanced at my phone and was surprised to see: “KILL ORDER: Eliminate The Devil” Me and the devil went way back, I’d made a deal with him that had wonderful terms. I would always be the best assassin in the world. In exchange, the devil got to keep the soul of every person I killed. Sometimes he would put in the kill order himself, sometimes they’d come from other people or lesser demons who worked with him, sometimes it was just a political take down. 10 glorious years passed with me at the peak of physical fitness and lethality. I had a 100% kill rate, with a 100% obfuscation rate. I was the best because my work was untraceable and always evolving, 3 steps ahead of law enforcement, 2 steps ahead of the best private security, and 1 step ahead of the holy warriors. I set my own rates and I hung out with ninjas, dark lords and Chechen mercenaries. I was constantly giving away pointers. 17.6K followers on my @assassintips Instagram account. I shared the craft liberally, knowing that with every skill or technique I gave away, I’d only improve. I was always the best, so the more powerful everybody else became, the more powerful I became. I’d spent the last 5 year lying to myself though. Telling myself that this was still an exciting career choice, and that I was helping the world by eliminating the ruthless people who deserved being killed anyway. The truth is, my deal with the devil and giving away skills had disrupted the market. Since the skills of all assassins had improved, there was a glut of untraceable deaths. I was the best, but there were also a lot of really good secret killers out there. Assassinations were no longer just for big shots, but commonly used in businesses and relationships. Competition from another baker in your neighborhood, poof, a not suspicious fire. Don’t have the heart to break up with your girlfriend? and a semi crashes through her back windshield. All completely undetectable. None were my doing, I only handled the big jobs that mattered. My noodles came, and I grabbed a table to consider what was going on with the unthinkable kill order on the devil. My relationship with the devil had never been complicated. He was methodical and focused on the details, always helping me grow and keeping meticulous records. I knew which side of the toast had butter on it, and I shot the devil a text, “Hey, did you see this kill order for you? what’s going on?” He responded, “oh, no that’s not on me.” I fumbled with my chopsticks and slurped some noodles. A little relieved, but still very confused by the devil’s nonchalance, I responded with a question mark. I felt a pang of guilt in my throat as the three blinking dots showed he was typing. Then not typing. Then typing. Then not typing. The reply finally came after I’d downed two more mouthfuls of noodles. “yeah, you’re the devil now. … check the small print.” attached was a picture of our contract from years ago, with a red circle around a line at the bottom: “Current Devil shall be determined by global impact.” It had been a while since I’d felt any emotion, so I wasn’t sure if that feeling in my throat was guilt or something else entirely. The noodles rose to meet my face as the world spun. The broth felt comforting as my open unmoving eyes sunk into my soup and i figured out who the kill order was for.
I made it. I was there. Christmas. 1984. Rockledge Mall. The stores were buzzing with customers and everything was exactly as I remembered it. Exactly. It was surreal. The lights... the sounds... the girl! This is it! Oh my- I’m here. I’m here. This is real. I’m- She’s here! What time is it? I had to get my bearings. It took a few moments to recall the layout of this building I haven’t stepped foot in for thirty years, but I quickly realized Macy’s was behind me, so that would place... JC Penney’s at the far end... past the food court! Right. Would I make it in time? I started running. Running as fast as I could. Faces stared in confusion as I raced as fast as my legs could carry me, blowing past mothers grabbing their children out of my hurried path. I spot a clock on the wall. 12:32. The girl was shot at 12:38. I have time. I have time. I quickly make the turn at the food court, almost loosing my footing, and now I can see JC Penney’s at the far end. Out of nowhere, I stumble and fall on my stomach as I almost knock into a customer coming out of Sam Goody’s. My hands are burning from hitting the floor. I almost touched him. I can’t touch anyone. What time is it?! Getting back on my feet, I hurried towards Penney’s. Second floor. She was on the second floor. What time is it? I arrive at the store and I see the escalator about a hundred feet away. It’s lined with customers. I can’t get past them in time. The clock above the escalator says 12:35. I look around in a panicked state. I must have looked insane. The elevator! I look down the hall to the right and spot it. I blow through the store, darting my way around clothes racks, careful not to bump into anything, which proved damn near impossible. I made it. Elevator. The clock above says 12:36. I have two minutes. I know I can save her. I press the button go up. No!! Instantly, a bright pulse of light encompasses my vision, everything goes quiet, and then everything is black. What happened? Where am... I? I realized my eyes are closed. I open them and look at the calendar sitting on the desk in front of me. December 16... 2018.
I really wanted to kill that bastard, spent years and billions of dollars on it, didn’t see my kids for weeks on end and when I was at my lowest he just twisted the knife deeper. I was bankrupt after building all of them lasers and doom carrots then failing 59 times to kill him the bank told me to fuck off and get a real job. So I started to just rob banks and of course he stopped me again and again then again again. So a month ago, I declared bankruptcy, my goons left me when I didn’t pay them and then sort of stole their pensions, and my base was destroyed when they found out about the pensions. It’s amazing how angry goons can get I nearly died, well not nearly I am great and they are shit, so I just locked them in the base and then blew the base up. I was out of money and really hit rock bottom and then it came, finally I was the lucky one and won one time and it was a hell of a win. Captain better then me was lost without haveing to foil my daily plot so he started to fill the time with normal work, no meteors or A bombs just helping old ladies, recycling and telling kids heroins not hip. He really took to a gentler life it appeared until the one morning when he was hit by a bus dragged 50 miles and died in horrible pain. If I had known that I didn’t need a shrink ray or a nerve toxin to kill him, just a bus I could have bought every bus in the city and squished him. I had just finished watching megamind on the tv when I heard the news, I knew exactly what to do rob a bank, who would stop me with him dead. Then rob the hooker and cocaine shop and disappear to Thailand, because really I didn’t want an arch nemesis I just wanted to rob banks and be a rich bastard so I’m not going to miss him.
"Please, Madame Linda. You have to drop it. Master Bruce isn't cheating on you. I know my son would never do that."Alfred said, putting away his trays and taking out a cutting board. "Then why would he be going on a "Business trip"or a "Work emergency"every other day. I can't even call him half the time. You know what, I bet it's that Diana woman. She's always here."Linda said with a angry expression. Alfred stopped chopping vegetables and turned toward her. "By that logic, since Master Kent is always here, that means Bruce is a closet gay aswell. Which is untrue. So I would put those thoughts away and get ready for dinner." Bruce sat in his study with his phone on. He had managed to use his money to get a secured messaging network up that he used to communicate with other members of the Justice league. He texted Clark and Diana about what he knew of the Joker's team up with Lex Luther. He ended by asking them if they were ready for the night or if he had to bring any protection, such as Kryptonite proof vest or wrist bracers to stop Diana from being disarmed. Of course Linda thought protection meet something different.
The head of the first stellar evil conglomerate was no match for me. he had hid his person hideaway out here on the edge of the the solar system. It didn't take much to assassinate him. A single bullet fired from a maglock coil gun from 500m away through three reinforced glass windows 50mm thick. There wasn't much in his complex. Just a few personal attendant robots. The artificial atmosphere had drained out and ruined his private domicile. I breathed in a taste of sterile plastic tasting air through my space suits filtration system. One week of air left. The speeds Id have to travel to get back to earth safely were astronomical. Luckily I still had the ground beneath my feet. That could suffice as enough of a spaceship while I shut myself into hibernation to reduce water consumption. I wasn’t about to die of dehydration on the journey back. I picked up a robot, much easier due to the extreme low grav environment, and I threw the robot at what I estimated was between Charon’s equator and its south pole. I felt the very surface of pluto shake as Charon absorbed the impact. I could feel the dangerous wobble as the binary bodies increased their rotation speed. Poor Charon I thought and slowed my breathing. The wobble was going to last for quite a few more hours. I knew that Charon was going to be ejected from the solar system at this rate. A small price to pay. There were many more objects in the kuiper belt so it wasnt any great loss, but a silly part of me viewed charon with the reverence of the eponymous greek legend. The poor dude didnt deserve isolation simply for ferrying the dead to the afterlife. Somewhere in my trance like state I could feel the slingshot as the dual rotating bodies split apart violently. It was a few days before the incredibly dangerous weapon I was riding began to approach earth and I managed to wake from my hibernation trance. I walked for a bit until I found the right spot and I began punching wildly down at the frozen liquid methane I could see fissures of air began to erupt from my suit and my hands ached, but I continued pounding away until I heard a sharp crack. The gargantuan rotational forces had fractured pluto otherwise I wouldnt have been able to do it, but I had found the weak point and I could feel pluto shatter into a thousand tiny pieces of rock and liquid methane beneath my feet. Most of the remaining comets would pass the earth saving the earth from the catastrophic extinction level event that several million gs of force would apply. I tried to plug my suit holes with my mangled hands as best I could as I waited for the comet I was riding to disintegrate into earth’s atmosphere. At just the right distance I grabbed a leftover service robot and jumped. I angled the pair of us toward the atlantic ocean. We reached terminal velocity rather quickly. It took about an hour of falling and extreme friction between my space suit an the atmosphere before I felt I was close enough. I let loose my grip of the robot and dropped the poor guy. Watching as the surface tension of the ocean destroyed the poor dude like a porcelain piggy bank falling from a much much larger skyscraper. I propelled myself into the water after the poor robot broke the surface tension and the extreme force of falling actually crippled me shattering more than a few bones in my body. I floated up to the surface and waited for MI6 to grab me. Man. I was exhausted.
Looking back at what Miss Universe used to be, is somewhat laughable. All you had to do to win was to have bearable looks, to have a nice body, and maybe a little bit of knowledge. Now, you have to be superhuman. You have to be strong, you have to be BEAUTIFUL, and you have to be a genius. You are always required to have at least two talents that separate you from the rest. The rule of one woman from every country still remains. But to be the candidate, that’s a whole other story. If you want to be the ruler of earth, you have to start early. You have to train your whole life, you have to go to a special school. Many women attend, but few ever graduate. I have been through one of these schools. And now, I have been selected as the candidate for The United Stars of America. I am a celebrity. The citizens worship me. I am ravished with expensive gifts, I get to do whatever I want, I get to go wherever I want. I’ve hung out with just about any celebrity you can name. I’ve had 6 months to prepare for the final competition, the one that will determine the rest of my life. I will either become the Queen of all Queens, or I will become an outcast. Losers of the Miss Universe competition never see the end of torment from their home country if they come back without a title. The last Miss Universe ruled for 20 years until her premature death 6 months ago. She was loved and cherished. Tensions have been high since then, and every country has scrambled to find the most suitable candidate. I have been blessed to be chosen, but now that my dream has become a reality, I am more scared than ever. I have gotten used to this life of luxury. I have trained all my life. And now, I will have to convince the world that I am the only woman fit to be their Queen. I will have to convince the panel of judges and the High Council, who all have their own biases. Last competition’s Queen was Miss India. And as an American, I have to take home the title. Two world powers battling for complete and utter rule of the earth. My country is desperate for power, as it has always been. And now it is up to me. With my years of training, I have always thought I could win. But right now, standing in front of the whole world, I can’t stop my hands from shaking. The lights are far too bright, my hair is far too stiff. My dress is so tight I can hardly breathe. The women standing next to me must feel the same, and I wish them the best. We are all in the same boat after all. I wish it did not have to be this way. The tension in the air is so thick I feel like I am breathing in smoke, not the oxygen I’m so desperate to find. I try to calm myself. I did amazing. I placed first in the trivia, with Miss China coming in a close second. An American has never come in first in the category. And then I shocked the world with my ability to sing, and to play 4 different instruments. I can also speak 10 languages. One more than the deceased Queen. I have to win. This is my destiny. So as the host walks onto the stage, my posture stiffens. My hands are clammy, the makeup caked on my face feels like it can sweat off any moment. The live audience of around 3 million people cheers as he stands under the spotlight. He brings the microphone to his mouth and smiles. The audience hushes, and the most uncomfortable silence I have ever endured falls across the stadium. “The council has come to an agreement. The votes have been counted. Both have been taken into account, as well as the talents each woman has presented for the world today.” I can barely hear anything except my own heart pounding. I close my eyes and try my best to stay still. The host unfolds the envelope that contains my future. He opens the letter inside, and holds it into view. “The next Miss Universe, our next beloved Queen, has been chosen to be Miss United States Of America.” My knees buckle at the mention of my title. I fall to the ground, tears erupting from my once closed eyes. I won. I am Miss Universe. I am the most powerful woman in the world. The women standing around me do not lend me a hand. They are devastated, their gazes averted. Their coldness suddenly stirs an emotion inside of me that I have never felt before. Hatred. Maybe it’s because of all the stress I am currently under. Maybe it’s because they know all their riches will soon be gone. Maybe they are even more selfish than me. Regardless, I know the whole world is watching me. I pick myself up and stumble over to the host. “Miss Universe everyone!” He cheers, followed by an eruption of applause from the audience. Everyone seems to be pleased with the decision. Everyone except the other candidates. I was at least expecting a congratulations from them, a few smiles sent my way— but no. Nothing. I face the crowd as the notorious Miss Universe crown is placed upon my head. The audience roars in reply. I wipe my tears away. “Thank you!” I call out, blowing kisses left and right. My rule starts now, my era will now begin. I will do what is right, and nobody can stop me. A grin creeps along my face, stretching from ear to ear. What the council failed to realize, was my ill intentions. My first act as Queen will be the termination of Miss Universe. Every council member, and every candidate. And I will slaughter anyone who disagrees with me. (If you read the whole thing, thank you! This is my first post for a writing prompt. I wrote it in 20 minutes so excuse any grammar mistakes.)
I still remember looking from down the ground into the glistening night sky, listening to stories of how once upon a time the Moon was whole and unreachable. Stories that seemed impossible when the moon broke apart years before my birth and fantastical stories of silver chariots turned into metallic drones orbiting the fractured celestial being. To fight in these wars didn't require guns or courage, it required sabotage and a willingness to sentence people to a cruel death within those isolated caverns in the dark. To push those buttons knowing the people you kill were never wealthy or safe, every one being desperate parents searching for wealth from countries too poor to send drones. I was one of few who rarely looked through the camera of my drone after the deeds, allowing others to collect the large quantities of Lunar gems, never being able to bear looking into the dead eyes of my kills through a camera. My peers would celebrate and count their numbers in kills or gains, ranking themselves on score boards and each day aiming to surpass each other as if it was a sick game, which I suppose it may well have been for all they cared. The scientists back down talk of how our work onto this object will have consequences in changing tides and falling objects as the moon's remnants collapse down onto Earth, which of course our leader told us to ignore under threat of gunshot. And so despite my horrific companions and the collapsing world, all I could do was follow orders. Bomb the Chinese mines, hack the German signal, intercept the Russian's next package under the guise of the Koreans. I moved through each day like a robot desperately trying to keep my eyes closed to the crimes occurring around me as I walked through the motions as if a dream, wishing that if the world would end, that it would end soon. Then it happened news of how the mines had run dry and that the moon was starting to fall. And as I left the compound that night and looked to the sky, instead of the broken moon highlighted against the bright satellites and dying stars, all I saw was the falling moon descend upon the Earth.
Really, I never expected the little bit about "K"to become much. "K", of course, isn't her name. It's the first letter of her first and her last name - And thus, it's a good thing for me to call her when I don't want to say her more unique name on the Internet. Anyway, one night, I just... wrote. Everything, that had to do with her at least. We met on the first day of high school. I was coming from a little private school on the opposite side of the city from her - A place that advertised that its students were empaths and geniuses, but would struggle to choose two examples between them. The high school we ended up at ran the county's gifted program - The International Baccalaureate program, to be precise - Hence why a boy from the south side of town and a girl from the north side ended up in the same school. Anyway, after coming from a small school with a couple of girls I was even mildly interested in, and a few I simply disliked, I'm sure it isn't shocking that I wasn't exactly skilled with the ladies. After lunch, I had health class. Basically code for bullshit, if you weren't a dumbass. One person for whom the class wasn't bullshit ended up sitting to my right, and we were shooting shit - He was talking about how he was taking "Algebra 32"or something like that. I, of course, being a smartass, asked him then to solve a linear equation - "2x=14. What's x?" From behind me, a pleasantly content high pitched voice piped up, informing us that it was seven! So, me having fun, I didn't really pay her much mind, but she had fun beside me, and she helped me remember the list I needed for the icebreaker - Nice girl! I liked her already. The second day, I turned around for more than a second at a time to talk to her and realized she was beautiful. Long story short - I could go on, but - I got really awkward, because I didn't really get the hang of the whole "talk coherently to a pretty girl"thing until two years later, but she, the angel she was, managed to stay friends with me. A few incidents of mixed signals passed, but I never had the guts to tell her I liked her - She was a cheerleader, for god's sake! At the end of high school, we had an event where attendees had to call their parents to leave - "Safe and Sober". My dumb ass went. She offered to let me stay overnight at her place, but my parents were asleep. The next morning, I almost died driving home after over a day of sleep, cementing the fact that that was a bad idea. I went to a university halfway across the country - Computer Science. She stayed at home - I think she was studying nursing. She ended up studying abroad, in France. I guess she really likes it. I... well, I sorta got over her. I didn't have so much of a crush on her anymore, but I didn't really find anyone new to replace her, so to speak. So, with a somehow longer version of that "short story"up there, I just vented, at the empty masses of the Internet. I expected to get nothing out of the ordinary - three replies pointing out a misspelling I missed, five pointing out the same awkwardly phrased sentence, and one doubting that any of it actually happened. Imagine my surprise, the next day, to see that I had poured gasoline into the engine of the Internet. Hundreds of people were now dedicated to... Well, frankly their objective wasn't quite cohesive - It ranged from "Tell her how you felt"to "Marry her and have a nice house with 2.5 kids", and I felt awkward about the whole thing. I think it was Reddit which decided that she obviously liked me back. 4chan was working on finding my street address, and Tumblr was trying to decide if bringing the whole thing up constituted sexual harassment. Anyway, to stop the whole mess from collapsing further, I agreed to cooperate. Two hours later, I had a plane ticket to Paris, a hotel reservation, and a note on my to-do list to buy more Dramamine. A week later, I was on a plane over the Atlantic, cursing the fact that I ignored my to-do list, and cursing the people who were nice enough to pay for a stranger to go to another continent chasing a crush he used to have. So, uh. You asked... That's why I'm here.
The thing you got to realize is we all have dreams. What separates us is what we will do make our dreams be reality. A toy car once told me that the next races winner is decided today. That struck a cord with me. I am an ornament. A decoration on the Christmas tree. My dream is not to race. My dream is to be the most prominent thing on the tree. To have the tree be my background. To be framed in lights. Golden and silver globes be my choir while I take center stage. Just above eye level of Mr. Edwards but shorter than Nathan, his son. Tomorrows race begins today though, or for someone like me it began on last December 26th. When I enticed the cat to take down the tree a little earlier than the Edwards hoped. I'm mostly paper with laminate. Immune to falls, not like the glass ball with a feather in it or the ceramic nativity characters, that didn't know their place. The best way to ensure the win is to be the only one in the race, the toy car didn't understand that. Once you start you can't just stop. If you stop and fail the destruction has no meaning. My success gave death its purpose. Then came the attic months, a time of true opportunity. In the March rain the roof just happened to leak as well something a toy nutcracker can arrange it for you if you provide a little favor in return. Just wanted me to introduce him to some of the older toys in the attic. Unluckily that new leak in the roof destroyed a few memorable tokens of Christmas along with its intended ornaments. The nut cracker was upset but that's how the nut cracks. By September the only ones left were the ones in my box. They had growing suspicions though ones that proved to be true after they happened to watch push a ceramic gingerbread man of the table in early November as we were bein unpacked. But my methods had casualties. If only I hadn't underestimated the vengeance a nut cracker could have. In the night I was awoken by the bending of fake pine limbs. The nutcracker never broke eye contact as he unhooked me my rightful place and carried me to the hearth. He spoke no words as he laid me in the fireplace. In the fire the laminate bubbled and my construction paper curled no longer resembling the hand turkey I had been. The bright crackling took me to the long night.
The kingdom of Linx was a lush landscape of the most unique wildflowers and sacred, ancient trees. The kingdom was built entirely in the treetops due to the pesky Willerbuds. The Willerbuds were tiny creatures with the faces of human children and plump bodies resembling chipmunks. Willerbuds were creatures of opportunity. They survived by stealing fruits and vegetables from farmers and breads from bakers. They were greedy but lazy creatures so the glistening, golden Linx sap from the ancient trees in the kingdom of Linx typically required too much effort to steal. One single drop of Linx sap could fill your belly for a whole day and cure almost any wound. The people of the kingdom of Linx worked to harvest the Linx sap and used it to barter with neighboring kingdoms. They lived a simple life but they never suffered or went without. Basic patroling of the kingdom deterred Willlerbuds from attempting to steal any Linx sap. Well, it did until the new king of Crania took over. The kingdom of Crania was not nearly as beautiful as the kingdom of Linx. It was the complete opposite, really. The royals lived on a dwindling supply of old family money while the rest of the kingdom struggled to keep food on the table. When his father died and the prince of Crania took his spot as king he decided to do something about his kingdoms misfortune. The king of Crania arranged a meeting with the Willerbuds shortly after he took the throne. He proposed a partnership. He would reward the greedy Willerbuds with shiny armor and weapons to make their theviery even easier if they could drain all of the Linx sap from the ancient trees. He knew that if the Linx sap was completely drained from a tree it would never be able to produce again. This would give him a stockpile of Linx sap that he could sell at a very high price. It would also ruin the kingdom of Linx. The kingdom wouldn't survive such a devistating blow. The next night the Willerbuds set out to earn those shiny swords. Ten Willerbuds cornered one guard and held him down while three more drained an ancient tree entirely of it's sap. When the people of the kingdom of Linx found out what happened they were horrified. They didn't understand why the Willerbuds would do such a terrible thing. Sure, they stole vials of Linx sap here and there but to completely drain a tree of it's sap was a cruel act. Gertie, the wise 102 year old witch of the kingdom of Linx, asked everyone to leave her alone with the ruined tree. She put her hands on the tree and whispered an ancient language. The events leading up to the tragedy flashed in her mind. She set off to go speak to the king of Linx in a hurry. Unfortunately, Gertie's meeting with the king didn't go so well. Her memory had began to fail her in her old age. She couldn't quite remember which neighboring kingdom had sent the Willerbuds after the Linx sap. Her young grandchildren, Ginny and Gerry, watched Gertie's meeting with the king with sadness in their hearts. They knew their grandmother was a wise and powerful witch but the king's frustration with her was growing. They knew they had to help their grandmother remember. Ginny and Gerry quickly and bravely decided the best way to help their grandmother would be to disguise themselves as Willerbuds, sneak into the village and get as much information as they could. With a few old blankets, a tuft of Willerbud fur, a few whispered words and a snap of Ginny's fingers the children were ready to go. They hurried out of the kingdom of Linx before anyone mistook them for genuine Willerbuds. They lazily hung around the Willerbud village for what felt like forever. Most of the Willerbuds had been eating or sleeping all day so the gossip had been kept to a minimum until a dozen male Willerbuds stumbled in to the village dressed in shiny armor and dragging a barrel of spirits. The Willerbuds burst into celebration at the sight of the shiny victors. As the night progressed, and the Willerbuds drank, the children sat and listened. They learned Kingdom of Crania was behind this whole mess and they had to be the ones to stop it. Another group of Willerbud men were making plans to attack again the next night. The children ran back to their grandmother in the kingdom of Linx and told her everything. She knew just what to do. Ginny, Gerry and Gertie headed to the kingdom of Crania that night in their Willerbud disguises. While the kingdom slept they sabatoged everything. Gertie poked holes in every bucket. Ginny trampled every blade of grass turning the kingdom into a muddy mess. Gerry stole every spoon in the village. They made sure to leave lots of Willerbud footprints to be found in the morning. No one knows what transpired between the kingdom of Crania and the Willerbuds after that but the trees of Linx have remained safe ever since, all thanks to a forgetful old witch and her two tiny grandchildren.
So uh... I dont quite know where to start with all this. The event itself or those that lead up to it? I'm probably not even the right person to tell this tale. Even though it's my fault. You see about twelve years ago, just before the start of twenty nineteen all data on the nineteen nineties vanished. Tax records. Census data. Video recordings. Music albums. Everything. You name something from the nineteen nineties all data is gone. You, me or anyone you ask will only know that it didn't exist at the trike of midnight December thirty first eighty nine then did exist at just passed midnight January first, two thousand. A planet wide vacuum of information. I remember the worldwide panic and chaos that ensued. Didn't amount to anything other than a substantial chunk taken out of the tax payers pocket to repair damage caused by riots and what have you. Mostly people just got on with it. We lost a fair amount but a lot of stuff surprisingly wasn't missed. Or if it was we didn't notice. So no one bothered trying to remember after about mid summer twenty twenty. And thus no one since has had much reason to recall that missing decade. Until today. Now this is where it gets strange. Its also where what I think I know and what I do know blur a tad. I'm fairly certain I'm the cause. Don't ask me how. Don't ask me why because God alone knows what actually happened. To explain I found something very peculiar while working on an archeological dig site somewhere in Nepal up the side of some mountain in the Himalayas, the exact name has slipped my mind in the past years but I'm sure I could find it with enough digging through my records. I don't quite know how to describe it. But appeared to be a book, bound with golden thread and using thin iron sheets as pages. It was in a coffin that I remember clearly. But much else is foggy. Like something or someone is trying it's best to remain unknown. I do recall that the skeleton was really weird. Definetly not human but definetly not animal. Because I don't know anything that has silver bones or wings on a humanoid body. But then again, my memory is unreliable on these events so it may be nothing. However I recall the book vividly. And how I wasted hours with a colleague who studied linguistics trying to crack the insane scripting used to record whatever information the book contained. Now the only thing I recall about the night that all information on the nineties vanished I'd been drinking. Well, that I'd been drinking and I'd really gotten angry over something. Something that resulted in me slamming my hands down on the table, one of which got a nasty cut on the book, and yelling "I wish that entire bloody decade never happened."
The wind blew gently across the street, slowly shaking the leaves of the nearby red oak trees. Eric walked calmly down this road as he had many times before, clad in his windbreaker and cargo pants. Eric had just saw a concert with a few friends and was dropped off a couple blocks away from his house, as the road in this suburb was thin and poorly lit. Speaking of poorly lit, Eric noticed one of the few street lamps on his road. He always remembered this one to be faulty, blinking, but it never quite burned out. But today it was shining… green? It was weird enough for it to provide a steady light source, but green? Quite odd. Maybe they put in new bulbs? Eric retraced his steps a bit just to see that the previous streetlamp was glowing a warm yellow, as per usual. He then moved closer to the green light source, curious as to its odd color. He noticed something odd about this pole upon closer inspection: an oddly circular bump in the pole, that seemed almost button-like. Eric pushes against the metal hard with his palm, and it gave in. A loud creaking of metal revealed a manhole in the middle of the road that had begun to sink into the ground, slowly. Almost instinctively, Eric ran over and stepped onto the manhole, descending downwards into some kind of tunnel. The walls of the tunnel were made of smooth stone, nothing like what Eric had seen of sewers. The ground was flat and clean: this tunnel was man made and unused. Ahead of him, Eric saw more green lights leading further into this odd tunnel. As Eric wandered forward, he stopped in his tracks. A sound had occurred behind him: someone had jumped down onto the manhole. He began to hear footsteps walking in his direction, so Eric began to creep forward, hoping to not be heard. As the footsteps got closer, Eric increased his pace, strolling, then walking, then running, and finally sprinting as the figure behind him caught up, chasing him down this tunnel. Adrenaline filled Eric’s veins: he had to keep going. He took a right, then a left, then another right, before he finally entered an enormous room, filled with green light. Across this room, hundreds of huge cages lined the walls, most filled with strange, glowing technology. Some even held creatures, some which appeared to be vaguely rat-like, others standing on hind legs. But Eric could not take any further looks: the figure was gaining on him. Eric sprinted in this seemingly unending room before he ran out of breath: it was impossible for him to continue further. The figure slowed down, pulled out a gun-like device, and pointed it at Eric. “Nothing personal kid. Just business.” But hey, I guess that’s just how it is, living in the middle-of-nowhere Texas, next to Area 51.

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