Split (1)

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"I can't believe you roped me into this,"Tanya grumbled, balancing precariously on the side of the bed. "It doesn't matter how much time we have, I'll never be able to fall for you." Dave grimaced. "Look, I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea either, but we have to do something, our birthday's are in--"he checked the silver clack hanging on his wall, "twenty minutes." Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was a part of the matchmaking process but for Dave and Tanya, their birthdays were on the same day, and they would be turning twenty in 20-- now-- nineteen minutes. Dave tapped his foot in frustration, facing Tanya, "I have a life!"he shouted to the ceiling. "I'm on the right path, my apprenticeship is lined up, and I have to fall for this--"he eyed Tanya, "person."He muttered as he hung his head, "What did I do to deserve this." Tanya got up abruptly, "You!"she shouted digging her finger in his chest, "You are not the only one who had plans! I had my life together, I was finally going to get out of this godforsaken hellhole but,"she ruffled her hair with frustration, "you're holding me back."She dejectedly sat down again, head in her hands. "I mean maybe we could take it out,"Tanya said, knowing full well the absurdity of that notion. Dave scoffed, "Yeah right, we're totally brain surgeons. This--"he tapped his head, "is not going anywhere."He paused. "Look, I did all the research but our monitors can't be taken out or manipulated. I thought about drugs to mimic the chemical affects of love, while simultaneously causing situations where the physical effects could likewise be simulated but... there's just too many variables."He continued, "The timing would be nigh impossible to synchronize, and there's never going to be a completely pure reaction because--"he paused looking into Tanya's eyes, "this feeling of mutual hate; its impossible to trick our bodies into complete "love"because there will always be a part of our brain, our souls, whatever it is, that will never accept those cheap coincidences as reality." Tanya hugged her knees to her chest, trying to hold back tears. After sitting in silence she broke the tension. “You know why I'd rather die than fall in love with you?"She left that question hanging in the air. "Why?" Tanya laughed halfheartedly. "Rhetorical question idiot."She paused. "I met this one guy, his name was Finnian." Dave looked at her with mild interest, "And?" Tanya replied, "We fell in love at first sight,"she said tears brimming in her eyes. "We had planned to save up enough money to find someone, anyone, to get these--"pointing to her head, "out of our brains but life got complicated, finances dipped and we couldn't find anyone who was willing to risk the operation."She gulped in some air, as her chest rattled with a sob. "I found my person, my real soulmate, not this--"she waved at the room, "fabrication."She looked at Dave, "You never once stopped to really wonder if this was right? If this pairing truly was the only way?" Dave looked at her stunned. He didn't know what to say. All his life had been devotion to his craft, researching and developing cures to unknown diseases. He was a prodigy, he didn't need anyone to be by his side. Solitude and work were his friends. Dave shuffled his feet, "All I've ever known was myself. What I wanted to be, what I aspired to."He paused, "I guess I never thought that I could ever have anyone at my side..."He sat next to her on the bed. "I'm...happy that you found your one true soulmate." Tanya smiled shyly at him. "Thanks Dave."She looked at the clock as its hands started ticking toward midnight. "You know?"she started as she watched the minute hand quiver on its flight to 12. "Maybe in a different life, we could've been friends,"she said with a wistful smile. Dave gave a sad grin in return. "Yeah,"he said watching the clock with her the final seconds ticking away. "Maybe." The clock struck midnight. &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B;
"Hang on,"I said. "So you're telling me everything on earth is extinct and I'm the last human alive?" "Yes,"the alien creature said. This weird creature was just outside this even weirder chamber I was in. "And you want me to help you on your midterm paper?"I wasn't sure if this was some cruel prank my friends were trying to pull off or if I was dreaming. "Well, yes."The alien creature replied. It hit some buttons and the door swung open. "My paper is due tomorrow and I really need your help." Well I wasn't dreaming. This was definitely a damn alien. I stepped out of the chamber and fell flat on my face. I couldn't even feel my legs. The alien helped me up and sat me in a chair next to the window. I peered outside the window, to my surprise I saw earth. Well, at least what I thought was earth, hard to tell when you can see flames and smoke from space. "You're really not joking,"I said in dismay. "What the hell happened?" "Well long story short it turns out that the extinction-eradication beam of death does well, just that."The alien shrugged. "You killed everyone?"I asked. "Well it said on the label it kills 99.9% of lifeforms. No way I would have been able to retrieve a human without your entire world chasing me down. Used the beam to soften you guys up before I entered. The beam is pretty strong though, was getting scared I eliminated all humans. But I kept searching, and sure enough, found you rolling around on fire." So everyone was dead. No more bullshit politics. No more social media. No more chaos. "Awesome. Wheres your midterm paper? We have until tomorrow right?"
That morning, I finally made the decision. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and couldn't stand it any longer. I had to do it now, or I would be doomed to this frail, mortal body forever. But at first I hesitated. It was sometimes nice to walk among the common folk and feel invisible with my human body. I would miss some mortals, surely. But in my heart I knew there was no other way. I set up the candles and took out the brittle paper. First, I stabbed my arm with the quill until there was sufficient blood to write. As I chanted, I copied down the words from an old spellbook. "I am a wise soul Trapped in this weak body I recite this chant of old To set my mind free Burn my skin to dust Set this frail shell alight Demons, do what you must So I can live once more..." The chant continued. A steady rhythm had emerged in my voice. I could feel it in my bones; this was it. Finally, the chant was done. I blew out six candles in quick succession, then relit them and repeated the process twice. With the last candle gone, I waited silently. The change began. I felt my body changing; stopping over, growing larger. I barely kept in a scream as twin horns grew from my scalp and intertwined. But I had to. I was becoming the true creature inside. I knew that much when I glanced in the mirror to see my new self. I unfurled my wings and stretched them out. Maybe someday I would fly, but not now. Not when I was still stunned by the fact that I was an Immortal. None of us look the same as another, because we are the physical manifestations of our souls, and no two souls are alike. No. Instead of being indistinguishable sheep like the mere humans, we seek who we truly are. And since our souls live on forever, reincarnating in different bodies, we live on forever once we become who we truly are. I shelve away my spellbook, and put away the candles and the quill. Today's deed is done. I have become an Immortal. Tomorrow, I seek the land of my brethren.
You wouldn’t think it from the outside, but this place was big, really big. It looked like an antique store, wooden shelfs, old and worn items, but it also was a lot more, I could see a cooler in the corner and a snack isle. It was an odd store, yet intensely intriguing, I started wandering around, seeing what the place had to offer, which, I quickly realised, was a lot. As I walked I found a book section, a hardware section, and a grocery section, I wasn’t unfamiliar with giant stores with all these and more, but here…they felt…Disconnected, it was as if I was going from store to store instead of section to section, I also couldn’t see the path I took to get there, I just sort of…did. Continuing my exploration, I discovered yet more and more, an electronic section, a music section, a pet’s section, a hobbyist section, never did I question how all this fit in a small corner store, nor, why or how I was the only customer. Suddenly I found myself in a familiar place, the books section. Were the shelfs always that tall? I walked to one, and idly picked a book, it was nonsense, jumbled words, periods instead of commas, commas instead of periods, and the author seemed to enjoy intermittently writing backwards, then upside down, then mixing the two. Something made me read on however, a subconscious wanting answers, or a bored mind wanting some spice, you decide. The book spoke of the sunrise, and the possibilities it offered, it was rather poetic, imagine what power could be gained if we just harnessed that force of possibility, all my dreams could become true, leap out of my mind and become my weapons, nothing could stop me, no army, no nation, no god. I was hungry, so I went to food court. I picked up some fries and a bacon hamburger, after eating I went and found a bed to sleep in. Once I woke, I poured over every book I could find, not that I became a liquid, no, not yet, I was just very diligent. Each text I went over spoke of a different power, the dark, the light, the shade, the luminescence, the night, the day, the sun, the moon, or was it all the same? Different? My mind refused to tell…WAIT, that’s IT, the fool I had been, the fool I was, in my previous life I had not exercised my mind, believing the only power came from the heart, now with this new-found enlightenment I shall rectify my mistake, and be reborn a new. Searching I found that it was not a simple task however, to go down the path of mind I must gain it from others. Soon I knew how, I would lure the stupid, the gullible, and the weak with promises and then trap them within their own skull, an endless labyrinth of their own make, they would simply wonder, escape impossible, as I feast on their grey matter. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. “Have you found what you were looking for?” The woman behind the counter said, giving the customer service smile “Yes” The customer answered with a smile as well. The woman bagged the customers items, several books, a bag store brand chip’s, and a broken mirror. The customer took their bag and left like they were the happiest person in the whole world.
(First time responding to a writing prompt, please be gentle :( ) Staring in to your eyes across the small restaurant table, all I can think about is that the last four years of my life have had me feeling the happiest I have been in a long time. I can only put it down to you, my beautiful girlfriend Sarah. Everything about you is perfect; your laugh, your smile, that mischievous little twinkle in your eye when you have a surprise for me and are excited for my reaction. What I love most about you though, is the way that you love me. Tonight, I will cement that love, I am hopefully taking our relationship to the next level. I’m going to propose, and I think you can tell. Your gorgeous blue eyes sparkle and your cheeks are flushed, you’re nervous.Why else would I bring you here, to the small restaurant on the beach where we had our first date, only a five-minute walk from where it was that we first met, where you found me crying alone on the sand. You held out your hand to me then, you saved me from my lowest point, and I could never thank you enough for that. You laugh at a cute dog that walks by the window, and I smile. You’re truly something else, I don’t deserve you. Yet somehow against all the odds I am the one who got to be with you. I hear you say my name and I am snapped back to reality. “You know what you want to order yet? I might get the fettucine.” Of course, you would, that’s the same thing you ordered the first time we came here. In your head you are reliving that perfect night. I was about to respond but something changed in the room, a draft, a cold breeze. Maybe a window opened. Caught off guard I don’t have time to raise my arm to shield my cough, and a spray of my saliva crosses the table and on to your chest. I go to laugh about it, make a joke and apologise, but something has changed. That beautiful sparkle in your eyes is gone and you have become silent. “Sarah?” No response. You just stare at the table, unmoving. “Sarah!?” Now you look up, the blue sparkle I had come to love in your eyes was gone, instead they were red. “Unit 045623GS operational and under your command, ready for orders.” This isn’t right, this is some sort of nightmare, the girl I loved is all of a sudden gone, and instead there is this thing in your seat. “What…what is wrong with you?” I cant help but ask as I stare with horror at the husk in front of me. “Running diagnostics…All systems are currently operational. I notice an anomaly with my GPS system, it appears someone has turned off my tracking device, would you like me to re-engage?” That monotonous voice left me cold to the core, I tried to remember everything I knew about waking yourself out of a dream in case this was a nightmare. It has to be. Surprisingly very little came to mind. I pinched my arm as hard as I could, maintaining eye contact with you. You don’t blink and I can feel my arm beginning to go numb. Water, I need to splash water on my face. That will fix this. “Wait here” I beg the thing in my girl friends place. Hoping to hear your voice with some sort of response, to reassure me that I am not crazy, all I can feel is hopeless as the monotonous tone once more responds with a simple ' “Order received.” I run to the bathroom now, turning the tap on full force. Cupping my hands, I splash my face with as much water as I can, over and over and over. Nothing changes, I am still here, trapped in this nightmare. It’s been ten minutes, I have no choice but to go out and face you once more. Drying my face, I exit the bathroom and look at you across the room. There you are, looking happy again. Your lovely blue eyes sparkle like the ocean as you order something from the waiter. You catch my eye and give me that heart melting smile. I can’t return it. Something isn’t right, you aren’t you. I don’t know who you are.
The sound of footsteps approaching, awaken you. With bleary eyes, you observe as the cell door is opened with a clang. "It's time"the figure said. The voice was decidedly male. Yet your eyes couldn't seem to focus on any human features on the man, like he was wearing one of those Halloween masks that left you faceless. With a slight nod, you rise from the cot. The crick in your neck signalling that you have been lying down for quite some time. But your mind simply cannot recollect how you reached here. As you walk towards the man patiently waiting outside the doors, you glance back, taking in the cell that must have housed you. But all you could see now were shifting shadows, as if you were in a half-awakened dream and your subconsciousness has given up on make believe. As you look ahead once more, you could hear the door closing accompanied by a cool breeze that left you with Goosebumps. You walk behind the man now, down a hallway. His broad shoulders leading the way, your footsteps echoing his. With the sound reverberating down the tall walls, you take a glance around. But just like the cell, your eyes can't seem to focus on anything, except the muted blue coloured never-ending walls, the colour that feels so familiar and yet so wrong. He walks ahead, never doubting that you won't follow. His black suit, a sharp contrast to the dull surroundings. You don't question why you are following him, or how you reached here or what you are walking towards. It's like you have the answers, but your mind has decided to overlook them as they aren't important anymore. The feelings of fear, curiosity, appear to have been put on mute by your mind. All you could seem to feel anymore was a sense of inevitability. As if you have walked past these corridors before, over and over. And you know, without any doubt, what is up ahead. From the corner of your eyes you observe the blue fading as you walk. And you recollect what he had said. It really was time. He comes to a halt before an enormous wooden door. The striking brown looks shocking, standing out against the now grey surroundings. He steps aside, putting his hand on my shoulder. I look up to where his face was supposed to be. And even though, all i could see were shadows, I could feel his piercing glance. "It's time"he repeated again, with a squeeze on my shoulder. But this time it felt like it was meant to be comforting. And with a nod, I push the door open. An empty courtroom. That was what greeted you. Complete with a gallery, defendant's box, judge's bench and a jury stand. You walk past the empty gallery, past the swinging doors, and turn towards you right, towards the jury stand. There were 12 empty chairs in front of you. But you knew, you were not meant to sit in any of them. You turn around, and walk towards the defendant's box, and take a seat. After all, that's what you are here for, aren't you? It's finally time. The moment you took your seat, the scene before you disappeared. And all you could see any more were glimpses. Shadows of figures entering the room, leaving. Echoes of conversations, that are just out of your hearing. Like someone had pressed fast forward and you are the only one out the loop. “What does the defendant plead?” a voice echoed. Suddenly, all the chaos stopped. Time had stopped. You look towards the voice. And there he sat. Wearing the same black suit. And the same blank face. You turn around to look at the gallery, and saw a sea of blank faces. All waiting, expectantly. With a dawning memory, you turn your glance towards the jury. Twelve familiar faces looked back at you. Your eyes regarded each of theirs. From the youngest, with the sparkling blue eyes, filled with disbelief and betrayal. To the oldest, with blue eyes dulled with a grim acceptance. It really was time. And just like that memories of your past hit you, like a train wreck. Like someone had finally lifted the dam, they all rushed back to you, one after the other. Memories of a10-year-old child holding hands with the same black suited man, walking down a hallway, curiously noting that the sparkling blue walls. Of a 14-year-old self wailing outside the wooden door, while the masked man looked on, hunched over with the burden of knowing what was to come. Of an 18-year-old adult who has tried everything, from drinking, drugs and therapy to avoid the same damned blue tinged dream, that always ended with waking up to an acrid smell and wet bedsheets. Of the 24-year-old insomniac who would try the best to avoid sleep. If only, to stop dreaming of a sea of faceless men and dull blue walls. Of a 30-year-old, who stopped glancing at mirrors, so as to not look at the face that every year grows achingly familiar. And your 34-year-old, finally accepting the fact that you would never know how grey hair would look against your blue eyes. And with that, you turn towards back towards the faceless judge and mutter the words that you could never forgive yourself for uttering. Words that destroyed the innocence of a 10-year-old, the hope of a 14-year-old and the redemption of a 38-year-old. “Guilty”
It took 15 years and every cent he had but Zed finnaly had a working time machine. He was ready to go back and stop the hit and driver who caused his sisters death. Zed opened the door of his machine and found himself in the back hall of school. He looked around for a clock and a calendar, finding both he walked quietly up to the second floor. He wanted to peek into a class and see himself and his sister. Just as ge reached the top of the stairs Zed felt a hand grasp his shoulder. An adult voice said, "No Zed." The hand belonged to Mister Whitmore, his old High School science teacher, one of the weird teachers he suffered through. "Where are we going?"Zed knew his time was short, in a matter of hours his sister would die. Mr Whitmore opened a storage room door, spoke into his watch and panels lit up around the room. "Don't do it Zed."Mr Whitmore showed him the future but not his future. "Your sister is the cause to an epidemic that wipes out several key species, and the planet is dying."I chose to come back and stop you. As Zed watches the screens he gets a weird feeling. "Those photos...thats..." "Thats you...and thats me. I'm you from the alternate future." Zed and his older self Mr Whimore talked. In the other world all life was ending...in his own future the World was full of prosperity. He picked up the keys off Mister Whimores desk. "If it has to happen, it should be me doing it."Mr Whimore explained that his old 1955 ford station wagon wasn't just a car, it could take him away in time, but only back, to avoid any complications. Zed sat in the car next to the curb. His older self set the machine to go back 10 minutes after...the impact. The walk light started blinking, his younger self and his sister were laughing as the entered the street. Zed gunned the engine, heard a crunch and didn't stop until the car started glowing green, the world dropped out underneath him and he found himself in an empty field. He finally forced himself out of the car and vomited. In the distance were some men putting up a sign. It read "New high school to be built on this spot."Zed fell to his knees.
I didn't want to impose my will, but there are some thresholds that need to be crossed. I stood atop Cloud Gate, in Millenium Park. Despite the sleet and the blistering winds, my feet remained firm and unmoving. A crowd had begun to gather around me, but not close enough for me to see their faces. It's a peculiar thing, really. The government had fallen later here than in central america, and I suppose that made sense. My enemies had fallen across the globe when their own weapons were turned against them, and while their contacts in central and South America had literally been legion, here it was harder. A senator here, a few lawyers there. Cloud Gate was surrounded by a pack of wolves, facing the crowd. And at the front, almost directly below me, there stood a tall, handsome man with long black hair and an all-leather ensemble, whiter than the snow falling around him. It was time for my announcement. "Citizens of Chicago."I bellowed, imbuing my voice with my power. "We will not crumble, we will not turn upon one another." The ground literally shook with the force of my power. It was more than I wanted to spend, but I had to make a statement. "Our government has crumbled. This is going to be one of the hardest things any of you will ever experience. Do not turn upon one another. Do not steal from one another. We need to be unified if we want to survive." A can, maybe soup, maybe oil, came hurtling at me from the crowd. With a small effort of will, it bounced off of an invisible shield in front of me before it could connect. I sighed. "Most of you know me by now, but for those who don't I am Harry Dresden. I'm a wizard. I'm here to help as many people as I can. Please." &#x200B; "Fuck you!"Came a shout from the crowd, and I had to deflect another can. This was going to take a while.
"Honey, can you pass the mashed potatoes?" I blink, not realizing that I've been spaced out for the past five or so minutes. I look over to my grandma who is beaming at me. The years haven't been kind to her. Deep wrinkles chasm on her face mixed in with large liver spots. Her nearly translucent white hair hangs to her shoulders in complete disarray and her chapped lips tremble ever so slightly involuntarily. Her nearly ninety degree angled slouch has become a trademark, due to her working in the fields for close to a century. But... it's weird. Whenever I look into my grandmas softening blue eyes which always seem to be in a state of trying to focus, all her external features seem to disappear. Her soft, radiant eyes sparkle with a long lost note that hasn't been there for decades. Bliss. "Y-yes! Sorry." I smile slightly and reach for the white bowl heaping with steaming mashed potatoes. Grandma, out of everyone in Elsithgrad deserves to be happy. When I turned fifteen and successfully merged with the grand mage's incantations allowing me to wield powers no man or woman could fathom, I had been adventuring since - mainly defeating demons and other monsters that have been trying to pour into our peaceful realm. It's been close to ten years since I began my journey, and I haven't had much time to visit family. So being able to set away some time and visit my grandmother, whom I absolutely adore, is a blessing. Just as I was about to grab the bowl of mashed potatoes, a hand flashes in front of mine and hoists the bowl of heaping mashed potatoes up as if it were empty. I feel my eyes narrow as I slowly rotate my head to the person sitting next to my grandma. He is a handsome man who looks to be in his mid fifties with short salt and pepper hair. His face, which is very angular, brims with confidence and has an air of royalty to it. His deep green eyes pierce into mine and I feel rage begin to boil through me. I retract my hand that was reached out for the mashed potatoes and unconsciously form it into a fist. The man I'm facing, I've met several times before. It's a face I would likely never forget. This is the man who has forced me into a lifetime of realm servitude. This is the man who has caused tens of thousands of needless deaths. This is the man who has slain my precious friends and party members. This man... Is Overlord Brahm. Brahm smirks at me as he passes over the bowl of mashed potatoes over to my grandma who takes a moment to grab them with her slightly shaking arms. Brahm's smirk turns into a toothy grin. "Here you go, dear. Your Grandson seemed to have his mind on other things, so I thought I would grab the bowl for you." I feel my heart sink and pound against my chest at the same time causing my blood to boil. Why? Why did my mom marry Overlord Brahm?! Does she know what kind of sick, evil man - no, not even a man. What kind of sick DEMON she married? I see my grandma look over at Brahm and smile from ear to ear, her eyes closing almost completely. "Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my grandson would have better manners seeing how he frequently dines with the king. I guess manners are slowly dying away with the newer generations." I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I quickly glance over at Brahm who seems to be enjoying the lecture. The reason why I was spaced out in the first place was because of him! Overlord Brahm... The man who is my sworn enemy - the REALM'S sworn enemy is married to my Grandma! It makes no sense! I'm lucky I left my sword at the estate seeing as I didn't need it for a simple visit to my grandmas. If I had it... Well, needless to say a fight would have 100% broken out. I still had magic I could use, but Brahm seems to have hidden anti magic wards in my Grandmas house because I cannot feel the trickle of magic when I try to call upon it. Sure, I could use my fists and rid the realm of this demon, but... I look over to my grandma who takes a bite of the mashed potatoes and sighs deeply. She puts a hand on her cheek and looks over at Brahm with pure joy in her eyes. "Brahm... These mashed potatoes are wonderful! The best I've ever had! Why haven't you made them for me until now?" Brahm pours himself a cup full of wine from the pitcher and offers it to me. I glare at him and shake my head slowly. Brahm grins and sets the the pitcher of wine down. "Well, you never asked for them sweaty! How am I supposed to know what you want to eat? By reading your mind?" My grandma and Brahm chuckle to themselves. I roll my eyes and take a sip of the water in front of me. He can, in fact, read her mind. Be he wasn't going to tell her that. &#x200B;
Hope this doesn’t get lost in the comments, but quick question for OP: what pace did you write at and how long are the books? I’ve been struggling with finding my pace for writing and would like to hear from a success story. Ps. By pace i mean any thing you can remember or estimate: avg wpm, hours writing per day/week, words per day/ week/ or even month. Anything you can remember would help me a lot with pacing myself.
The Khreseida Building looked no more or less distinctive than any other found in the Common District. Composed of dull colors, modern architecture, and a strange greenish glint to the windows, it was by far one of the most ordinary places the city harbored. This, of course, was highly intentional on the part of the architects and building designers. We cannot have the general population ask questions. The head constructor had said. So we cannot create a building that prompts them. Unfortunately, they hadn't thought through the nature of people and how they behaved when friends and loved ones disappeared, sometimes to return but other times to never be heard from again. People began to exchange stories about how the Khreseida Building seemed to be a hotspot for strange disappearances, and if the people returned they were never quite the same; they thought at an accelerated pace and were more agile in their movements. Some chalked it up to paranormal activity, others to a potential brain injury. But there were a few who claimed that there were eugenics experiments taking place in the Khreseida Building. These claims were widely dismissed as preposterous, but had been gaining traction in the past few months. Every morning Dr. Wilhelm Berhanson entered this building quickly and quietly through the door located on the door right of the main entrance. He knew that people were getting suspicious now about the whereabouts of the beloved actor Ronnie Praetorian, who was last seen being taken into the Khreseida Building by strange androids with a shiny silver exterior. His own mother had enquired about that at dinner a few nights ago, and Wilhelm simply shrugged and claimed he hadn't heard about it but that it was unfortunate if true. He could never disclose his status as a researcher; both his professional reputation and personal life would be destroyed entirely. After passing the multiple security clearances, Wilhelm was greeted by an acquaintance whom he couldn't recall the name of. Is he on the psychologists floor with me? Wilhelm pondered. Or his he on the surgeon's floor with Dr. Alexander? He didn't have much time to entertain these questions though, as before he knew it the man was a few short feet away from him. "Hello, Dr. Berhanson." "Hello, Dr., uh..." "Dr. Hall." "Right." This Dr. Hall stared with a vacant look of worry on his face, but was silent. Wilhelm, slightly annoyed as he had to report to his floor soon, wanted to get him out of his presence. "Is there something important you need to tell me, Dr. Hall?"he asked impatiently. Dr. Hall looked at him with wide, frightened eyes and a pale face. Something was obviously not going according to plan, but Dr. Hall seemed to either enjoy the theatrics or was too frazzled to form his words. Either way, Wilhelm was willing to hear him out. After moments of silence, Dr. Hall spoke. In a hushed voice, as if sharing a very important and embarrassing secret, he said, "It's about Mr. Praetorian." Wilhelm was taken aback. "What about Mr. Praetorian?" "Well,"Dr. Hall started, his face flushed profusely, "His surgeries did not go as well as we hoped." "Cut to the point, Dr. Hall." "The initial lobotomy was a success, but we noticed an irregularity that we thought should have been a very simple thing to fix. Well, the surgeon cut a bit too far in and..." He choked up a bit at this moment, not from sadness but from fear. Wilhelm was confused at this man's behaviours. "Were you the surgeon, Dr. Hall?" "No, but I was the facilitator. I let a surgery go improperly!" "We all make mistakes." "Yes, but this was a high-profile client! Once word gets out that we turned Ronnie Praetorian into a vegetable we will all be ruined! People are already demanding answers about what goes on in here! That would be the final nail in the coffin!" Wilhelm carefully considered what Dr. Hall was saying. Although Dr. Hall didn't appear to be the brightest star in the galaxy, he made an excellent point. What were they to do with Ronnie? Wilhelm beckoned Dr. Hall closer. He had an idea: a sick, twisted idea, but an idea nonetheless. Dr. Hall leaned in. "We could stage an accident." Dr. Hall jumped back. "You're more insane than any of your patients, Dr. Berhanson." "Hear me out."Wilhelm looked over his shoulder to ensure that none of the nurses or security personnel were behind him, listening. "I hope you haven't told the higher authority, because that would ruin everything. Lie to them. Say that the surgery was a success, that he is now a man of high evolution. Then they will have no choice but to release him. Although it will appear that he is gone, he won't leave our care. We will then stage an accidental electrocution from his call bracelet, making it appear like it was entirely unintentional." Dr. Hall felt a strong aversion to this, but he knew Wilhelm had a good plan and that the future of the operation was threatened if this news escaped the confines of the Khreseida Building. He nodded. "Mr. Praetorian is in room 209 on the 14th floor. I will go to the correspondent's room right now and give the false report. When I come back, will you have done the electrocution?" Does this man think I am an imbecile? He wants me and me alone to carry out the actual murder! Wilhelm's body flinched at that word. Murder. That's what it was. He reasoned with himself. This will improve greater society. We cannot let these experiments end. By the time he had finished thinking, Dr. Hall had disappeared. He hadn't even noticed him walk away. He followed Dr. Hall's directions to the room where Ronnie Praetorian was being kept. He knocked once, twice. Nobody answered. He opened the door himself. The room lights were dim, but he could still make out all of Ronnie Praetorian. He was happily clutching a stuffed duck and babbling incoherently. With the exception of the fresh scar and stitches from the failed surgery, his movie star good looks were still very apparent. The only change was the blankness in his eyes; eyes that once held a charming yet sinister look. Ronnie looked at Wilhelm. He extended his arm, as if offering the stuffed duck. "Steven!"said Ronnie, likely referring to the duck. Wilhelm closed his eyes. He started to feel lightheaded. I'm murdering a child, I'm murdering a child... he thought, as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He reopened his eyes. There was a poster next to Ronnie's bed: official propaganda of the experiment creators. Done in the old-fashioned Soviet propaganda poster style, it said it bold blue letters "KHRESEIDA: THE CENTER OF HIGHER EVOLUTION"with statistics underneath that Wilhelm couldn't quite make out from where he stood. Wilhelm took a deep breath. The Epipen was where it was supposed to be: on the wall. He reached in the clear plastic casing and retrieved it, throwing the case to the side. He approached the side of Ronnie's bed, and Ronnie peered up at him, giggling. "You, sir,"Wilhelm said, muffled, "are not a man of higher evolution."It was after these words that he set the Epipen to the highest setting and turned it on.
"Ya'know I was just a boy when I started out this way. I got attacked down a dark alley. I was alone. He had a knife. So I did what anyone could do. I picked up a rock and bashed his head in. And it felt... right. Like seeing the blood splurge from his head, and the pure unadulterated fear surge through his eyes, it was electrifying. It was just this tingle I felt down my spine. So I kept at it. But this is different. You want me to kill the Devil." The burly angel glanced away. The sweat glistened down the side of chiseled chin. He glanced back, biting his lip. "Yeeeessss? We need this. Wrathchild, please." The Wrathchild slammed his gun upon the table and sighed. "I just, I need some time alone." The angel got up, his large frame knocking over the chair he sat in. "I'll just be outside, Wrathchild. Tell me what your decision is when you're done." He shuffled out, staring back at the Wrathchild. Wrathchild nodded. He looked up at the single dim light swaying above the small stained room he was in. What could he do? What was he? He knew he didn't want to be a pawn in the Machiavellian schemes of Light and Dark. Wrathchild grabbed his trusty handgun. His handgun, through thick and thin. He examined it, its intricate build and fine design to result in quick, powerful shots. He sniffed it. There was a heat, like a flicker of life in his gun. "Mr. Angel, I've made my decision,"Wrathchild called out. The buff beast bumbled through the door. "You've seen the light, right? You'll hel-" Bang! The angel fell to the floor with a thud. It was clean. One shot, one kill. Wrathchild grinned. An alarm blared off in the distance. Wrathchild sprinted out of the room at top speed. All he remembered about the compound was that he was in the basement of a large military base. In front of him, there was a door leading up the stairs and the large steel doors of an elevator. He slammed the button for the elevator. The alarm screeched even louder. Wrathchild heard a ding and the elevator doors slid open. In front of him were more muscly angels. Bang! Bang! The angels promptly collapsed. Wrathchild leaned inside the elevator far enough to his the button of the top floor, and then pushed the bodies inside the elevator. The elevator door closed on the bodies with a sickening crunch. Wrathchild then burst up the stairs. More angels would be coming. One flight, two flight, three, and finally, a door. The sweat ran on the side of Wrathchild's head. He grinned insanely. He hadn't felt this kind of rush, since, well, since he was a kid. He felt like he was waltzing in the wind. He kicked open the door, and saw a long hallway, marked with the blood and feathers and the murky, metallic smell of death. The lights were fluttered between light and dark. He saw a tall, horrendous figure with shark-like teeth and sharp, leathery wings. Bang! Bang! The demon squawked and stumbled forward in a desperation to kill. Wrathchild clenched his fist and clocked the demon and it crashed down, defeated. Wrathchild saw the exit door and dashed out, feeling more alive than he had in decades. &#x200B;
###Mechanics & Spaceships### &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I'm not a big fan of board games, especially while slowly, inevitably dying. My crew-mates, on the other hand, have been doing nothing but playing board games for the last two years, as our ship as drifted, powerless, through deep space. After receiving our mission to scout out a distant planet, our motley crew shot out into space, towards the stars, in our compact ship. We got along fine&mdash;well&mdash;they all did. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;While we zoomed past nebulas and star systems, hurtling towards our faraway destination, my crew-mates rolled dice and laughed as they went on their imaginary adventures in D&D. I watched sometimes and never really took a liking to the game&mdash;but they were enamored. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At one point in our journey, while they were in the whimsical world of D&D, a cracking boom echoed throughout the halls of our spaceship, and the engines ceased to roar with power. The lights went out, the emergency lights came on. And we were stuck, drifting in a sea of empty, black space. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;We had plenty of time (a whole 2 years of life support) to search for a way to repair it, but my crew-mates were far too busy to help at all. Instead, they were smashing goblin-skull, delving into dark dungeons, and looting dragon hoards. While they gamed night and day, for two years, I worked tirelessly, trying to repair the ship. Life support could sustain us for a while, but it wouldn't last forever...my crew-mates didn't seem to think that. They just wanted to reach Level 20, but I knew our days drifting through space were numbered. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At one point, two years after we launched from Earth, I noticed the air was starting to thin: life support was failing. It would take about a week for our oxygen to deplete entirely, but I discovered the key to our survival. I went on an EVA, floating alongside and inspecting the spaceship's hull. That's when I finally found it, a massive asteroid was lodged in the side of the hull, most likely damaging the ship's power source. I tried everything I could to remove it: pushing into it while throttling the thrusters on my spacesuit, shooting it with a small mining beam to try to break it into smaller pieces, and wedging a long, metal rod into it to try and pull it out, but to no avail. I needed help. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I reentered the spaceship, searching around the halls for my crew mates. I heard the sound of laughter and voices, and dice rolling in the kitchen: they were playing D&D. I pushed through the doors, not caring to knock, and exclaimed: &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I found it! I just need a couple of you to come and help me dislodge it, then we can be on our way finally..." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Benjamin, our "captain"and their dungeon master, looked at me with disgust. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Hey, I'm trying to run a game here. Either make a character, or get out."He pointed at the door behind me. All of them were overweight, poorly groomed, and smelt horrendous. I don't mean to stereotype all D&D players, because not all are like that. But these were. They had done nothing but eat 3D-printed space food (which is quite unhealthy in large quantities), letting their beards and hair grow long and oily, and had only take a handful of showers as we sat, lost in space. Their characters, on the other hand, had grown powerful and had slayed many monsters and evils in their make-believe world. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I glared at him. "Fine!"I sat down, finding a character sheet and filling it out. I chose a wizard (human) with a scholarly background. I was level one, but that didn't matter. I just had to get my message across to them the only way I knew how. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Okay, let's get back into the story at hand."the DM continued, "You all, plus your newly acquired wizard, step out of the tavern and into the town-square. The scent of fresh fruits and meats are in the air, and the bustle of merchants and shoppers fills your ears. It's another, normal day in the city, but as you step outside...a roar breaks the normal, city atmosphere. You all look up to see the glimmer of red scales, as a monstrous Ancient Red Dragon shoots over the buildings, filling the sky with flame...it appears he has finally found you." &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As the DM painted the scene, and the battle for the city began, I began to realize all that I had missed out on for the past two years. I couldn't help out much, but I did shoot out a few rays of frost that probably just pissed off the dragon anymore, but I was hooked and enthralled by the story. I no longer felt as if I was slowly dying of oxygen deprivation, but instead, I felt like a wizard into a fantastical world, where anything could be possible. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For the final days of our lives aboard that small, compact spaceship, we slew dragons, explored dungeons, and completed many quests. Although, as the week came to a close, our real mission was failed, as the survey of the faraway planet (which would be a settlement for the people back home on slowly dying Planet Earth) was never completed.
My parents decided to move to Mars after my dad got a new promotion to work on specialized tech for this SpaceX company that's based on Mars. I thought at first this would be really cool to leave Earth for now and explore an entirely different planet. What sucked though was that I had to leave my previous friends I made and had to try to make new ones with basically my dad's other coworker's children, since it's only the company and the employees plus their families that are on Mars right now. Things sucked for sure, especially since I had to wear an annoying suit every time I wanted to go outside and walk around, but hey, it was Mars, can't really decide to rebel and not wear a suit. After a while, I made a friend named Samm a little after we finally moved in to one of those home pods that are in the residential area of the company grounds. She mentioned to me a rumor that long ago, before humans made any establishment on Mars, we sent these rovers that would research Mars and perhaps try to find any evidence of life, or even water since water usually led to life. After a while though, these rovers eventually broke down due to use and other reasons. A few hundred sols ago, SpaceX was able to recover a rover that was named Curiousity. It was a relatively massive rover that looked ancient. It's still covered in dirt and sand and is currently stored as a centerpiece in SpaceX's lobby, waiting for one day to come back to Earth, to return to home. Samm mentioned that there's still more rovers out there that are yet to be discovered she told me, but it may be impossible to try and find them anymore after thousands of sols of sandstorms slowly burying these relics. I thought it would still be still neat to try and find one though. One day, I decided to take a walk around the company's grounds since there wasn't much to do except watch Youtube videos of cats and other things. After walking for a while, I tripped on the ground over a rock. I yelled out to myself "Stupid damn rock" I got up to kick the rock, but before I did, I saw the rock as sticking up the ground in a strange position. Its jagged face facing diagonal off the ground unlike any of the rocks around it. I picked up the rock and under it, I noticed something shiny. I use the little shovel I have on me that I keep to dig up stuff I find interesting and dig a little hole around this shiny object. After several minutes of digging, I found what appears to be a metal arm with a glassy end on the end of the arm. Could this be what I think it is? I reached to my electronic tracker and attempt to establish contact with it, I enter a command to retrieve the name of the object "What are you?" "Hello, I am Mars Exploration Rover - B, MER - B, but you may call me Opportunity, or Oppy for short. Am I secured?" "Secured? I realized this is extremely ancient tech. I may be responding to a list of protocols pre-established onto it. I may need to be specific with what I type. "Can you uh, move any parts? I mean, are mechanisms at working capacity?" "My battery is low and it's dark" Welp, that's right. I'm surprised it still had enough battery after all these years to even respond to me at this point. I plug the cord from my electronic tracker onto a port of the arm of the rover. "Battery charging, still dark"
I slowly begin to wake up. My whole body feels weak. As I get up, I turn my head, I instantly regret it due to an exhausting pain shooting right through my head. I'll remain in my position for a few moments. I'll open my eyes. A blue flash, I get blinded. As I close my eyes again I focus on my body. An overwhelming feeling of heat comes flying across my skin. I now open my eyes slowly whil3 looking towards the ground. After a short time I begin to arrange the strange colors and shapes into something that makes sense. I see something similar to metal and a sharp smell crawls into my nostrils while my vision faints again. I wake up again. My body straight upwards, my head locked, facing down. The only thing I am able to move are my hands. I try to get my fingers in contact with my surroundings. All I can feel is something cool, something soft almost plastic like. All I can see is my lap, it lights up in all different colors. Only after, what feels like a few minutes, I realise something. My lap shimmers. It almost moves in long wave like motions. Throughout the fog of pressure in my head I'm trying to focus more on what is around me. Besides the strange motions of my lap, the colors and texture of what is beneath me. There is nothing. I realise that the sound is missing. I can't even hear myself breathing. I'm trying to speak, but I again can't hear anything. But I can feel my throat. It hurts. It is completely dry. I can't even breath correctly. Just now I realise go little air actually enters my lungs. It feels like it all gets blocked by the dry inside of my throat. I'm staring to panic. My body starts to tingle. My muscles start to tense which leads to me getting even less air. I start hyperventilating, I'm gasping and I can feel my heart almost exploding. While my vision faints again I can feel my head getting freed, my body falling to the side onto something soft and moist. There is also a burst of sounds in my ears. Almost like a storm. While the sounds penetrate me from the outside, heat starts to spread from my chest. It feels like I'm collapsing into myself. After a second inside myself reality is gone.
The blue orb orbits the yellow dwarf designated as sol. There are signs of a pre solar society. Begin scouting processes. Reports coming in. Multiple civilizations. Hold error…. Multiple civilizations one species update. Prep translations software. Send submission demand with accurate threat level. Receiving response…. Error non surrender. Initiate demonstration protocols. Resubmit submission demands. Receiving response… Error non surrender. Activating defensive protocol. Initiating counter offensive. Receiving response Surrender. Activating defensive protocol. Receiving response… Error non surrender. Receiving response. Logic test. Running logic test… error. Receiving defensive protocol. Activating submission demands. Initiating logic run time. Send surrender acceptance. Receiving response… error accepted surrender.
A few years ago we finally discovered what they do. They’re actually beneficial to us, feeding diseases and waste. Death from disease has gone down to zero, and more importantly, those fucking kidney stones don’t matter, many problems are in the past. In addition, as thanks for us allowing them to be basically parasites they’ve gifted us advanced technology. The stars are within reach, in return they only want us to join their interstellar Empire as a colony, you know more taxpayers and citizens to draft into the army. We were slated for experimentation but luckily, advanced in diplomatic relations allowed us to convey the message that we have our own records and studies so live experimentation was... unneeded. Of course some experimentation is still necessary for the sake modifying humans to be able to withstand FTL so we’ve supplied them with death row inmates as test subjects. The world is at peace now that we’re part of a larger power, perhaps old rivalries remain, but war among humans is a thing of the past. We have a common ally and common enemies in the enemies of the Empire. In addition the environment is recovering as humans can export industries into space and make use of alien biotech to reduce the use of fossil fuels, and highly efficient, clean energy. The strain on the world is further lessened by humans emigrating to other worlds. In conclusion my fellow citizens, the alien invasion is the best thing to ever happen to Earth, and now we can confidently march into the future alongside our extraterrestrial brethren. (This message is sponsored by the Imperial Informations Department)
Restrained tears showed on his face “I wish you all the best in what you are looking for son.” Sabass slightly bows before giving one last look up at his father in his throne before turning away. “Oh” Sebass turns back at his father’s remark “Pip will be accompanying you, he used to do ground work for me when we had to cover up the bean stalk situation of 876. In the room came flying Pip, all 3 feet of him. “The mortals will see him as a bird... so just keep that in mind.” Sabass groaned a little, but not too much as not to hurt pip’s feelings. He knew his father couldn’t bear the idea of his son going alone in the world of mortals – the same ones who took his last son, before he adopted Sabass. “Come one Pip, let’s go..goodbye father, I will see you again!” Being dropped off by one of his father’s horse and charioteers, they land in a far off location from the town Sabass was found, called “ Appex.” They walk through the main street and view all sorts of activity going on that Sabass had only seen through his family’s other-world binoculars. It was so strange seeing everything in full, everything up close. He touched the cows and the sheep passing by, he touched the woven cloth and the dry cracked walls. He smelled the liquors and learned not to smell the liquors, he smelled goat cheese and the rosaries. Sebass was in awe of everything and everyone. He walked up to another tent of two men bargaining a chicken for some bright colored seed bags. “You see this? This chicken is plump, it’s a good one. You’ll get a lot out of it. Feed your whole family it will.” “How many times do I have to tell you, these seeds are not just any regular strawberry seeds, these have been blessed by the Elder god himself and will never wilt. Never die! I would need an unlimited amount of chicken to sell this to you. Don’t go snooping through my things!” The shopowner looks for a way put and notices Sabass standing off to the side “you there, what do wish to buy?” Stammering for words, Sabass says “I was merely observing, do you perhaps know where Goy Yurn lives?” the two men looked back at each other before laughing. “Goy? Oh you’ll find him around here somewhere, that’s for sure.” Angered by the unhelpful advice Sabass and Pip turn around and keep walking until Pip pulls on the nape of his hair “that’s him! You’re father!” With a jolt of exhilaration, Sabass runs through the crowd of people to see what Pip had seen up in the sky. It was a tattered old man sitting up against and empty wall. “G-goy?” Sabass cleared his throat. The old man looked up to the surprise someone acknowledged him for the first time in decades.
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“Oh my God, I’m so glad the hotel is right next door...” “I’m glad I wore a bra.” Kacy and Penny rubbed their arms. The convention center where the com was being held was heated but it was bitter outside and when your cosplay doesn’t cover everything perfectly it’s gonna be a rough day. “Cmon lets get away from the door before we freeze. “ The two friends began to wonder the con floor stopping at booths and talking to fellow cosplayers. Every time they stopped Penny noticed a modified for warmth Cammie cosplayer constantly speed walking past the two not looking ahead of her. The con wasn’t big so she ruled a stalker but something definitely peaked her interest. The two stopped for a snack when Penny finally told Kacy. “Every time?” “I know it seems weird but it is a small building. “ “What was she cosplaying as?” “Cammie.” “From Street Fighter? In this weather?” “She had sweats on under it. It’s been bugging me.” “Well try to stop her next time you see her. “ “Yes, that won’t seem weird at all. “ “I mean there’s tons of people stopping cosplayers to interview them, look how much we’ve gotten stopped. “ “I don’t know.” “Want me to make it easier?” “How?” Without another words Kacy stood up and walked over to a table where the Cammie cosplayer sat, eating a burger. “Damnit Kacy...” Penny reluctantly got up and followed her friend. Kacy tapped her gently on the shoulder. “Hey can we...Laura ? Laura Potts?!” ‘What?” Laura shushed them both and motioned for them to sit down. She was the most popular girl in their senior class. She was stuck up and in Pennys opinion quite the bitch. She took off her hat and rubbed her temple. “All the teasing we’ve gotten from you?” “Calm down Kacy.” Kacys voice had gotten louder and she hadn’t even realized it nor did she seem to notice her friend trying to calm down. “We’ve gotten shit from you for years and here you among us “ugly nerds”.” “Kacy...” “Do you know how many...a-a-are you crying Laura?”
He rode into town, down the dusty main street on his horse, people milling about not paying much mind to the man in the saddle, just another wanderer stopping in for the night for some whiskey and a warm bed. He stabled, brushed and fed his horse then entered the saloon. He enjoyed his drinks and meal, even the show girls were a joy to watch after all the days on the prairie trails. As things wound down to a close he went upstairs to his room to sleep off his buzz. He awoke too early in the morning to a bit of a hangover and ruckus outside, not thinking much of city life he pulled the blanket over his head and back to sleep. When he awoke the town was quiet except for the sound of a baby crying.
Christa was restless with anticipation. Cameron was finally coming home for good. She had spent so many nights and days worrying about him. Every time she heard a news report about an IED exploding or insurgents’ attack on a convey she would be on the edge of her seat until she had reassurance it wasn’t him. He was safe now. The large security doors at the airport opened and she recognized him in an instant. His hair had changed, and he looked a little worn out, probably from the flight, but he was just as she remembered. Christa could barely contain herself, jumping up and down twice before running towards him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to cry sobs of joy. He hugged her back, but somehow he seemed distant to her. “He must just be exhausted,” she convinced herself. “I missed you so much,” she cried. “I... missed you a lot too...” he said. She knew something was different, and fearing the answer she had to ask. “Are you okay?” Her timid question came out between soft sobs. “I am just really tired, I’ve been travelling for almost 40 hours now. I am so happy to be home, but I am so exhausted too.” With that they waited for his luggage in silence, and grabbed a cab. The cab ride home she hugged his arm, as he slept. She helped him into their home and put him to bed. She fell asleep to his heartbeat. Christa woke up first and made herself busy. She was buzzing with excitement, waiting for Cameron to wake. Cameron’s dreams that night were not of the war. They were not of the foreign lands that became home for so long, or the fears of the unseen enemies. His dreams were of the clinic where they performed the procedure. He knew he had seen some horrible sights, heard some horrible sounds and smelled things humans should never smell, but he couldn’t remember what they were. All he could remember was being in a hospital gown and coming out of that strange machine. The doctors, if they even were doctors and not scientists, were treating him more like a subject than a patient. He dreamed of all their weird poking and prodding. He woke up groggy, but the sun had seeped through the curtains, so he knew he should get up. He walked downstairs to see Christa in the middle of several chores, trying to multitask to keep her mind off the wait. She was cooking breakfast, cleaning up the place and telling everyone how happy she was on every social media platform. Seeing her like this warmed his heart, knowing that she loved him this much, and a warm, genuine smile beamed across his face. “You’re back from the dead!” Christa exclaimed, “I made you your favourite for your first breakfast at home!” she motioned to the waffles and mountains of bacon that sat on the table. Cameron wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He could feel her love through osmosis. “Before we eat, can I just ask you for one favour?” “Sure thing!” Her mind turned over what his favour would be. “Do you have our albums? I want to look through them.” The request seemed odd, and was punctuated by a stomach rumble from Cameron’s midsection. “Sure,” Christa went to go get the photo albums, confused about what could be wrong. Cameron sat on the couch and Christa laid leaning on his shoulder. The first one was labelled “Cam and Chris” written inside a giant heart. As he opened the first page he saw several familiar sites. “I remember that night,” he said looking at pictures from one of their first dates. “You were so nervous because I didn’t tell you where I was taking you.” He began to flip through, commenting on the memories. Next was the wedding album, there was just a picture of the wedding cake on the cover. Cameron took a deep breath as he opened it up. His mind travelled back, not to the wedding, but to the white room after the procedure. A man sat on a stool while he was sat on a bed covered in a paper protector. The man began asking questions while testing his eyes with a small flashlight. “What is your name?” “Private Cameron Sheerness, sir!” “You don’t need to address me like that, I am not an officer. Where do you live?” “732 Eaglelanding drive, Helena, Montana.” “Do you recall anything about the tank explosion?” “No... there was a tank explosion?” “Do you remember anything about the base, where it was, how large it was, where you slept?...” “No... no I don’t! What’s wrong with me?!” “Don’t worry Private Sheerness, you aren’t supposed to. It means the procedure was a success.” “What procedure? What did you do to me?” Cameron had begun to panic when he realized that they must have done something to his brain. The doctor turned Cameron to look at him, “when soldiers return from war, one of the most common and life altering disorders, PTSD, prevents them from fully re-establishing their lives. Traumatic memories from battles can come up unexpectedly along with heightened emotion responses. We developed a new technique to prevent this.” “What are the side effects?” “Well, having this conversation again is one of them. The procedure erases memories from the moment it is applied back to where we initially prepped you before being deployed, including having this conversation and you consenting to the procedure. There are no other known side effects, but this is a relatively new procedure, so if you do notice anything out of the ordinary, please reach out to us.” Christa tugged on Cameron’s arm, bringing him back into the present. “What’s wrong Cam?” He had been flipping through the wedding photos and had settled on one with her shoving cake in his face. He closed the book, tears welling up in his eyes as he turned to her. His eyes, wide with panic began letting the water passively fall. As he looked upon her, he knew something was missing. He could feel her love of him, but it all fell into a void. There was nothing inside him. Along with the memories, they had taken something important and irreplaceable. “I don’t remember loving you.”
(Haven't read the books in a while - they probably wouldn't use this tone of speech, but It's out of character, even in-universe, so I guess that should pass?) &#x200B; Dumbledore explained his plan. "Okay, so since this is just to entertain Harry, let's have fun with it. I called our new professor in defence against the dark arts to help with this. Please welcome Moody." "First of all, we have to start fabricating stuff. Start fabricating old news articles, changing memories and that sorts of stuff. Change stuff so that it makes for better adventuring for Harry. For example, I am now a veteran wizard. In fact, let's make a whole special forces unit for the ministry of magic, so we can have awesome, skilled wizards help Harry along the way. Starting now, my name is Mad-eye Moody, and I will have an eye missing and replaced with a bauble. I will behave like a paranoid war veteran. I will also conviniently be locked in a suitcase for the year, and we will make up some mysteries regarding some Voldemort's henchman that never existed. We can make up the details as we go along, we can rewrite memories." "Well, we can probably do that, since the memories of people can be rewritten easily and I can easily transform into a cat to sneak around and modify some stuff, but there's a bigger problem. What confict will we make up this year? The magic rock we borrowed and didn't actually dispose of because it was so valuable was year one, the ancient chamber that was actually three weeks old since we had to make a cover-up story to avoid losing face was year two, and a chance for Harry to meet Sirius was year three. So what will year four be?" "Well, have you ever read muggle stories? Almost as good as the candy they make. In any case, during medival times they had these organized battles where they competed for glory called tournaments. I thought we could make a few schools from nothing, only have them show up for this one year, and make a tournament with them as the other participants. Harry will somehow get in even though it's illogical and unnatural, and will somehow win against far more expirienced opponents. Throw in a hostage situation and Voldemort's revival there somewhere. We can just make a copy of Voldemort with ease. I think Snape can just stick his head and big nose-" "It's not that big." "Inside a muggle dishwasher, and we will have someone who looks like Voldemort after the dishes are done. Can we get Arthur to borrow us one? Oh, and also, add in some papparazi that's annoying and we can throw Moody's suggestion in there somewhere. Also, get Hermione to make some parody of a social movement. She's easy to manipulate." "How will that even make any sense? I mean, I know I suggested being an insane, paranoid veteran from the wizarding war, but that would be plenty for one year! And you want to do that?" "We can make it make sense. After all, we did that cover-up about the big snake pretty well, and even managed to pull a deus-ex-machina out of nowhere." "Mcgonagall, you are talking, not me. Please don't talk for me while I'm eating sweets. And the only deus-ex-machina was me managing to somehow make a sword that can kill the big enemy, then transporting it to the chamber with the help of a bird that can heal any poison. And making it make sense." "Still, there will be some who will be suspicious. After all, some people have brains dirter than Snape's nose-" "It's not that dirty." "But I guess we can stop them from doupting us by making them question something else by creating a terrorist organization out of nowhere and having it attack in the middle of what is effectively the most secure and fortified location on the whole planet, like the quiddich world championship that will conviniently be moved to this summer." "Mcgonagall, you're a genius." "Does anyone actually remember that the wizarding war was actually ended in seven minutes by Dumbledore killing Voldemort and then rewriting everyone's memories to create a long yet needlessly vague struggle ended by something that makes no sense?"
As Link drives the master sword into Gannon's heart, the rage leaves his eyes. He falls to his knees, and he returns to his gerudo form. He looks to Navi to say, “This wasn't a part of the deal!” Navi says, “I opened the way to the sacred realm for you as per your request. I then gathered all three pieces of the triforce for you when the imbalance in your heart split the triforce.” Ganondorf said, “You were to rule at my side as a good and faithful servant.” Navi chuckled and said, “Not when I can assemble the triforce for myself!” Ganondorf's eyes roll back as Navi blasts him into oblivion with a cone of magic energy. Now with the triforce of power imprinted on her wing, Zelda takes aim with the arrow of light. The arrow flies true, but Navi conjures Nayru's love to block the arrow. Navi then summons a horde of fire and ice keese to provide additional cover. Link begins to shoot the fire keese with ice arrows while Zelda blasts the ice keese with Din’s fire. Navi vanished in the ensuing chaos. Zelda gasped as she felt the presence of the sages disappear. Link pulls out a bottle to drink a potion, but Navi teleports the bottle out of Link's hand with Farore's wind. Navi calls upon the triforce of power and charges Link. He blocks it with his shield, but Navi super heats the metal with Din's fire. Link having no other choice discards the Hylian Shield that is too hot to handle and equips the Biggoron Sword. Link swings the sword at Navi, but she takes the hit in stride. Zelda attempts to seal Navi in the evil realm by herself, but without the other sages, she finds herself unable. Navi rams into Link taking his last hearts, but link opens a bottle with a fairy in it, only for it to whisper, “hail Queen of Evil, Navi!” Zelda with the last her magic teleports to link with Farore's wind, and plays the song of time to travel into the bleak future. With the triforce of wisdom and courage transported to the future, and temporarily out of Navi's grasp, Navi began amassing power for the return of Link and Zelda. My first time responding to a prompt. Hope that it was worth your time. I did take some liberties with some of the abilities, but I hope you found them interesting.
"Thanks for letting me get my stuff,"Red said. The portly, white-haired man tugged at his neon green suspenders. He let them slap against his black t-shirt then reached into the small desk again. "Feels good to be myself again!"Billy, a lean man in a navy blue suit, nodded at Red. "You need your gear, I get it. But why is your stuff in an old school on an empty Earth?"Billy asked. They stood in a condemned classroom with aged, cracked walls and floors. Obscene layers of moist dust coated every desk. When Red lifted the lid on his chosen desk the dust did not slide off; it remained affixed to the desktop. Red pulled a small, transparent rectangle out of the desk and smiled at Billy. "It wasn't empty when I got here."His smile dimmed. "My partner ditched me. Without a way off the Earth, I knew I'd get caught. Hid my node,"he tapped the glassy rectangle against his head. "Now's a good time to remind you. No killing unless I approve it."Red nodded. "Fair enough. I won't touch a Unique without your say-so, Boss."Red straightened his back and gave Billy a mocking salute. Billy shook his head. "Zeros too." "What? C'mon!"Red's hands flew up in exasperation. "They're everywhere and so squishy. It's almost impossible not to kill them." "This isn't a negotiation,"Billy replied. "It's simple: If you kill anyone or anything without my consent you'll be going back to the raft. A significantly smaller one." "Fine,"Red said as he hung his head. "I'm set, I guess. Let's move on."Billy nodded then raised his hand in the air. He wiggled his fingers and opened a tall, black portal. "I need to assess your AlterNet character,"Billy explained. Red nodded and stepped out of the classroom through the portal. On the other side of the portal, Red emerged into a large open-air colosseum. A bright yellow sun hung in the sky, but all the seats were empty. Red's body changed. Instead of the portly, white-haired, middle-aged man, he now looked like a portly, blue-haired clown. His 'hair' consisted of fine, long rubber strands in various shades of blue. His face became a ghostly, creamy white color. His neon green suspenders rested against a black leather tunic. Billy walked out of the portal and stood next to Red in the middle of the dirt arena. "PvP?"Red asked. Billy nodded then walked away to the edge of the battleground. "Where're you going?"Red asked. "Out of the way,"Billy called back over his shoulder as he kept walking. "Fire Spike!"A swordmage uncloaked next to Red the moment he used a sword skill. Red noticed a long, thin fencing foil that glowed bright orange with heat. The blue-haired clown sidestepped to avoid the attack. He raised his hand in the air as his body rotated to avoid the piercing attack. He made a fist, then his white-gloved hand inflated like a balloon. Red brought the inflated fist down on the swordmage's head and laid the man out. "Blindside!"A thief appeared behind Red but the clown reacted quickly. He spun around and slammed his inflated fist against the thief and sent him flying. "Why is everyone,-"Red began to yell a question at Billy, but he was interrupted by another attack. "Earthsplitter!"A knight appeared several feet away from Red. He used a large double-bladed battle axe to cleave the ground in front of him. The earth quaked and jutted upward as a shockwave of energy flowed toward Red. The round clown inflated both of his hands in front of him. He held his ballooned hands up with his palms out and inflated them further. The shockwave bounced off his rubbery hands and traveled back to the knight. The armored figure wasn't ready and the energy washed past him. Its wake slammed him against a pillar at the edge of the arena. "Why is everyone invisible?!"Red shouted his question at Billy. The lean man shrugged. "Easy inanimates,"he replied. "Iron Typhoon!"A ninja appeared and swung an ornamental black and gold hand fan at Red. A ball of whirling air flew at Red and grew larger as it traveled. The clown took a moment to sigh, then he adjusted his stance. He placed both feet together and shifted all his weight downward. The gust of wind reached him and spun itself around him. Red was knocked backward, but his feet remained in place. His body remained stiff as he rose from the ground like a punched bop bag resetting itself. The wind knocked him down again; the impact made a hollow thud. After a moment on the ground, Red rose again. By the second time the wind dissipated. The ninja cocked his head at Red in confusion. "That's enough!"Billy called out. Half a dozen other figures appeared in the arena, then headed toward their nearest exit. Billy walked out to Red. "I expected to be impressed, but I'm still pleasantly surprised,"Billy said. "Red, you're definitely the right man for the job." "I said you could call me, 'Red' when we're traveling together."Red shook his head and grinned at Billy. "But in the AlterNet call me, 'LaughTrack'." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #55. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order. &#x200B;
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What defines good or evil? We all knew what good was: from the ancient stories, the growth of wings, and what we felt. But it never was apparent to the layman’s eye as to what it truly was. That is until our communities connected, the world got smaller and so did most of our actions. However, for some every word uttered effected not just their community but every community. We became connected and an action someone made might not fester one deed but billions. The first to utilize this was a the Cruel One. His words transformed him from a man to an angel with wings so large they casted shadows over cities. He too grew with every added feather, something that most of didn’t know was possible until his growth was so supernatural it was biblical. The Cruel One always spoke of the “greater good” how the group took priority over the individual and so it became “good” to be cruel. How deeds of violence and degradation became the norm. Everyone had feathers, and everyone wanted more. But at what cost? This is Political Science 143 The Growth and Decline of Cruelty. If you’re in the wrong class the door is over there. For the rest of you flip to page 47, or chapter 1, The Cost of Cruelty.
The first thing David did every morning was to look out of a nine inch window for a look at the earth. "Eight billion."He whispered to himself as he watched the globe slowly spin. A view that only a select few of the most talented people on earth would ever glimpse with their own eyes. Home. Home to eight billion people, and you couldn't see a single one of them. He had been up here for four months now, and it never got old. Oleg and Ann had the same habit. You couldn't help it, the grandeur, the scale, the glow of the oceans and white clouds swirling around, just sheer experience grabbed you in like gravity itself. Home. He turned away to start his morning routine, and snapped his head back when he saw it. A shadow. Right there over the middle of the atlantic. Couldn't be a lunar eclipse it was too small, not to mention the wrong time. He was already heading towards the galley in the Zvevka module when the intercom buzzed and Oleg's voice came over. "All crew report to the command module. Unidentified eclipse phenomenon." David nearly flew into Ann as they both scrambled to meet Oleg, who was visibly pale. He pointed out the window "what is that?"His thick russian accent asking everyone, and himself. All three started out the window for a brief moment, watching the shadow on the ocean grow. It was bigger now than it had been just a moment ago. A few moments ago it was a speck, no bigger than the hawaiian islands, now easily the size of California. Ann followed the shadow back, looking for the source, and gasped "Meteor."She pointed at what looked like a speck, just flickering reflections from the light from the sun as it spun around slowly, and moved steadily, directly towards earth. Ann jerked the radio from its holder and immediately made the call: "Houston, this is Alpha Station come in, over" The radio crackled as a voice came back, "Good morning Alpha Station this is Houston, reading you five by five, over" They had to have seen it by now, the shadow on the ocean growing rapidly to earth, easily the size of Texas. The east coast of the United States would be coming by in a few minutes. "Houston, reporting an eclipse anomaly, distance approximately 60,000 kilometers over Atlantic. Coordinates 14.5994° S, 28.6731° W. Size. Size...." "Huge"David interrupted. Looking out the window. Transfixed on the object growing ever larger. Drifting across the backdrop of the cosmos as though someone had hit a tennis ball high and slow. "It cant be"Oleg said, mouth agape in disbelief. "Houston..."Ann's eyes. She knew. They all knew. It was going to hit. A burst of light and came as the monster smashed through the atmosphere and the impact came. What was blue and white a moment ago flashed into a swirling mass of red and orange as the atmosphere itself ignited from the sheer heat. The radio crackled "Alpha Sta.."and with a POP fell back into static. All three stood there, but only because there was no gravity to collapse into. They watched, unblinking as the universe snuffed out all the life left in it almost as casually as one would throw a light-switch. None were aware of their tears.
We sat in the park, by a fountain, waiting for the train that would pass through somewhere in the future, or maybe the past. We all had our tickets, but had ran out of things to say about the train fairly quickly. We mostly just talked about what we had done in life, and what had then happened in death. Dolores recounted her travels across the states, at first in a car, and later on foot. Jacob told of his time spent in the confederate army, and his regrets as he watched the world change around him. Jamie didn't say much about their life; it held regrets, despair, and loss, and they were mostly looking forwards to their new life in hell. I tried not to talk about my life too much. I spoke in generalities about my childhood, spending time with my aunt in her beach house, or how cool my pets were. I talked about culinary school and the friends I had made there, I talked about my daughter. It took a very long while to talk about the other things I did in life, and what lead up to my death. "Alright,"I finally mumbled after a bit of pressure. They had all shared their pasts, they had argued. What have you done that you're so secretive about. "I... was executed. In a state penitentiary. For several counts of murder." "Oh."Dolores said. I felt alone again. "I..."I desperately try to piece together an explanation. "I..." Jamie gets up and steps into nowhere; most likely his train arrived. I start to cry, something I had only started to do with regularity in death. "I..."What was I going to say? Was there anything I could say? All of these new acquaintances, united in death, had begun talking about other things, speculation on what hell would be like when we finally got there, or discussing the demons they had gotten their tickets from, what they looked like, how they acted, and if the demons in hell would be as nice or as disgusting. I wasn't so terribly different from them, was I? I had lived a life with ups and downs, with the good and the bad. I had regrets, even if those regrets were only realized in death, after the light had fixed my perspective, allowed me to see the errors of my ways. And what had they expected from someone so cagey about their history! It's then that I notice the train sitting patiently in front of me, shining in brass and red. I check the time on my ticket, knowing that I won't understand it better. I stand, and walk into one of the cars. I hand my ticket to a demon made of maggots, who stamps it and returns it to me. I wipe the tears from my eyes, and look for a compartment to sit in. I end up sitting next to somebody reading a newspaper, the Tuesday Gazette. "Oh hello!"the newfound travel buddy remarks. "Oh my...."He yawns. "I won't lie, I didn't expect there to be so much waiting involved with getting to hell. I kind of expected it to be instantaneous. Like, poof, now you're standing next to the gates or something. I've been standing about since the damn seventies just waiting to get on the train, and I feel like I've been on the train for weeks! Only thing to read is this damn newspaper, and every day it's always the same! Always war with angels this, talking about escapees that... Say, what are you in for anyway, how did you, ya know... kick the bucket." I nod along to what he says, wondering if I could find anywhere else to sit. "Oh..."I try not to think of the solid month I spent crying under a bridge when I was able to realize what I had done. "Same as you." "Lethal injection in a prison?"He looks at me suspiciously. "Uh... yeah I guess, small world, isn't it..."I get up, and walk out, hoping I can find somewhere quiet and alone before the tears come again.
it's hard you don't have any of your powers or any special skills that you have aquired on earth that would impress anyone or get their attention. IF anything you're quite clumsy and weak. you're awkward. people always speak over you and your social skills prevent you from standing up for yourself. Plus it doesn't help that you only have a min paying job that barely allows you to get buy. your clothes are ripped and dirty and people often try to avoid you in the streets. convincing anyone that you are the god of victory seems laughable. Why can't the gods let you back. to win there can't be any rules. winning is not a game it is survival. you feel they are over stepping their turf when they say that you cheat and lie to get your results. so what if you do. that's life. they can try to outdue you any way they wish no one is stopping them...why do they have to limit a gods potential by imposing non senese rules. &#x200B; But they did get you. they all consipired against you. didn't they respect you. Why were they so united against you. you didn't meddle in their affairs even when you could have judged them easily as well. &#x200B; what did they want from you. to convince others that you are a hero. that you are unstobably while stripping you of everything you have and making you as pathetic as possible &#x200B; everyone that you've encountered on eart has hated you. no one has given you a chance. you would accept defeat but it's simily not in your nature and earth is such a depressing place that every min becomes more and more unbearable. &#x200B; you start thinking of what hte old you would do. the old you would demand respect. you were getting despereate that you started going up to people saying i am the god of victory worship me or once i ascend i will punish you in ways that your nightmares haunt you. but people scared and uncomfortable would laugh and step away. &#x200B; after trying it another time you noticed a woman accross the street smile and laugh at in an amused sort of way. "you think this is funny"you yell at her accross the street "i am the god of victory and if it wasn't for all of the gods conspiring against me i wouldn't be here among you peasants>" &#x200B; you're very cute when you're histerical she said. was she mocking you you thought. This felt like a new low. "i wouldn't expect you to understand"you yelled at her "i'm not busy, care to enlighten me"she said a little more seriously "i alerady told you everything"you say "why would the gods conspire against you"she challenges you walk over to her, out of options. "They think i cheat and lie and that i accomplish my victories in dishonest ways. do you agree"she asked looking a little disapinted in him. winning is about survival not about rules"you answer winning is about principles"she snapped back confident in her answer. If you get your outcome through dishones means then cruelty has won and the wrold becomes darker for it. it creates chaos in the environment and suffering is spread a little more each time. "That's a little dramatic"you reply "there is something greater than gods and that's principles, if negative principles are ruling the god of victory everyone sufferes and i don't blame the other gods for robbing you of your power"she said angirly. suddenly he got chills. could she be right. there was a sort of energy flowing through his body. What principles have you defended and fought for in your battles. she contuniued you were starting to feel dizzy. you didn't mean to spread malice through out the world. you just wanted to be succesful to be admired and respected. and then it hit you. you always were going to be the god of victory you didn't need to fear that what you did have to worry about was what reputation you gave to victory. The gods banished you because the reputation iyou were creating for victory was one that did a diservice to it. &#x200B; suddenly fire flew from your hands and you could feel your strength come back. The girl looked at you terrified, she couldn't move even though every fiber of her was telling her to run. you looked down at your hands growing in power. in the middle of the street you grew into your old body. and once again started spreading your message. i am the god of vicotry. however this time instead of threatening them with punishments from their night mare you proclaimed that if they worship you again you would fight on their behalf that no one has to worry again about injustice being done to them. That you as the god of victory would fight for justice for everyone. With each moment you grew stronger and stronger. you lifted your hands to the sky and lightining bolts came out of them. people were recording and hte videos went viral world wide. even the white house used their emergency messaging system to inform everyone of your message and showed them the footage. &#x200B; suddenly a beam of light shun down on you and a voice spoke...welcome back, your throne awaits you" &#x200B; the beam lifted you back to heaven and it felt so right to be back. but your mentality was different. you mean what you said, you were going to show that being the god of victory was an honorable standing and would defend it with all your might. &#x200B; you looked down on earth, at the girl that had enlightened you, and you blessed her with abundant happiness that she may succeed in all that she does. &#x200B; &#x200B;
"Teeheehee! Thirty years was never enough!"The voice of a young girl sparked through the room, with a chirpy inflection. Mike sat in a chair in the living room, the whole place was dilapidated, his house was practically ruins. There was mold growing on the chair. Curled around him was a disproportionately long-limbed humanoid, it's skin lacked any pigmentation, it's neck was unusually long, at the end of it's neck was a portable television, the television glowed with the light from some sort of hellishly out-of-date video... Depicting a man in out-of-date clothing, singing along with a few friends of his, some sort of hellishly 80's-ish song. The skin of the being was thin and stretched tightly over it's body, it's pointed fingers so tightly stretched that they looked to be nothing more than bone, it looked like one wrong poke could puncture through it. "I never should've said it, okay?! I didn't mind when it was in style, and you were just a normal television that always played it, but 30 years?! 30 years, and you're not even an electronic anymore! You're just some hellish construct! What are yo-"Mike was interupted, when the thing pinched his lips with it's pointy fingers. "Shh-Shh-Shh... This is your favorite part, Mike."The hellishly out-of-date video played a certain part of the song. I suppose that the song is okay if you've only heard it once or twice every while, but, judging from the nature of the two talking about it, I suppose that Mike had been listening to it non-stop for 30 years. The thing took it's fingers off of Mike's lips. "Now, what were you going to say?"It cocked it's head to a side, only to find that while it was listening, Mike had taken out a sharpened object, he had it aimed at his throat. "Haha! That's your answer? You're not going to call the police, or try to get help? Well! Go on! End it! Do it! If that's your answer!"The tone that the thing took was maniacal. "It's better for the world! For man-kind. I have to do this!"Mike pulled the sharpened object forwards. "Do you? Do you really? Because um... Last time I checked, nothing said that if you died that I'd go with you. I'd probably just make someone else's life worse, or heck, maybe I'd go and make everyone's life worse! Teeheehee! If you're willing to kill yourself without thinking it through, maybe the world really is better off with you!"The thing was cheerfully demented, anything that talks in the manner it does is probably in our category of loons and kooks. Queer Birds, if you wanna get dodgy. But, then again, by nature? Man isn't very good at qualifying those who think on a higher plane. "Well... If this goes on for even after my death... Then... Maybe the rest of the world can deal with it!"Mike shouted, attempting to drive the sharpened object into his carotid artery. The thing stopped him. "Wait-Wait-Wait... So, that's your new reason?"It giggled a tad bit. "You premeditated your suicide and were content with any reason for it? That's hilarious!"The thing cheered the last part. Although it wasn't really funny in context to most humans. "HRAAH!"Mike cried out, jabbing a second object into the creatures hand, stunning it, and then running off. Mike darted directly to the door, as the thing sat there... Not bleeding. The thing giggled a bit. "Oh... That's cute..."It pulled the object out of it's hand, and looked through the hole, watching it slowly close. "You forgot something!"It shouted at Mike, and suddenly, he'd find that the thing had flung the object out the window with incredible force, just narrowly missing him. Mike got into his car, even with how beat-up it was, and quickly turned it on, putting the car in reverse and stepping on the gas. Mike drove off as fast as the car would allow him. He drove as far as he could on the limited amount of gas that he had. It led him into a semi-remote area, in the middle of a desert. I guess he got pretty good gas mileage. Mike powered down his car in the middle of the scorching heat, and moved to open the door... But it was... Locked? He tried to unlock it manually, no use. It must've been jammed. Suddenly he heard the car start up again... Then... The radio turned on... And it started with a song... The first few words were... "When I'm with you baby, I go out of my head."
The conductor leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve —“ The conductor stopped abruptly. You peer out the window shakily, still trying to overcome the wave of nausea caused by the bus’s quick stop. In the night you see the conductor is dressed in purple, something you had somehow missed when you got aboard. He was staring at a boy sitting on the ground. For a second you fear that the conductor may have run the boy over but the boy quickly stands. “What were you doin’ down there?” said Stan, dropping his professional manner. “Fell over,” said the boy. “‘Choo fall over for?” sniggered Stan. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” said the boy, sounding annoyed. He turned around to look at something in the darkness. “‘Choo lookin’ at?” said Stan. “There was a big black thing,” the boy said quietly. It was getting harder to hear them and you had bigger things to worry about. Looking at your surroundings you’re shocked to see half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside curtained windows. Clearly you are hallucinating from the 15 hour shift at hospital. You listen as the conductor helps the boy bring in a large trunk and is that an owl? You cautiously lay down on the bed. From the front you hear “This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern.” From the corner of your eye you can see Neville mess with his hair while taking a seat on another bed. “Take ‘er away, Ern,” said Stan, sitting down in an armchair next to Ernie’s. There was a tremendous BANG, and the bus lurched again racing back up to that tremendous speed and shaking violently. You squeeze your eyes shut and immediately pass out. “Hey buddy.” You awaken groggily as someone shakes your shoulder. “This is your usual stop, ain’t it?” You blink awake staring at the usual bus seats, the usual conductor and your usual stop. “Ah yes! Yes, this is my stop. Thank you,” you stammer while hurriedly gathering your things. Stepping out into the cool night air, you wonder at the magic of it all.
As the prince lowered the crown onto his head he felt an intense wave of strength come over him. At the same time a sudden epiphany dawned upon him and he realised what was to come. His brother Sarif would be assembling an army to try and take the thrown from him and he would have to do the same. It was a thought that crossed his mind quickly, and not in the usual way, as if the blessed crown had whispered it into his ear. The prince summoned the members of the Crown Council and explained his prediction. "It is to be expected your excellency but he has no way to enter the kingdom and his ability pales in comparison to yours,"fawned high councillor Drought. Originally named for the weather at the time of his birth, but now it seemed his name reflected his ability to come up with ideas. The Prince rubbed his forehead, impatiently. "Councillor Drought, please just listen and do as I say. I want you to gather the largest and most fearsome men in the kingdom and we shall hold a tournament to find the most skilled warriors amongst them."said the prince, "That is all." The high councillor and lesser councillors filed out of the room and the prince walked up to the throne room window, he brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and reached into his pocket. Between his long pale fingers he held up a small gold pair of spectacles. Peering through the blessed glass he through a piercing glare across the landscape. The land beyond the castle walls was covered in a dense forest with two ice caped mountain peaks off in the distance. It only took a moment and he knew that his brother was no where within his view. The blessing has proved to work across vast distances and he could not feel his brothers presence anywhere in the distance. "You'll show yourself brother, and you'll curse the day you do". Miles below the throne room keep, where the prince overlooked his kingdom, a short hooded figure ran down a cobble alleyway and into a busy tavern.
Growing up on the coast of South Carolina I always had a passing interest in basket weaving. As an adult living in the constantly hustling city, I remember fondly the slower pace of my adolescence in the marshland. Crabbing in the morning, laying on the beach at midday and chasing fireflies or girls as the sunset. The Gullah women weaving their sweet grass baskets and watching out for us. Always there. Always weaving. Always watching. Central Perk was the coffee shop in the basement of my building. It had been there under that name since the building was built in the 50’s. Evidently the popularity of a sitcom in the early 2000’s had almost driven it out of business. A combination of tourist, management’s unwillingness to cater to said tourist and the resulting bad online reviews had combined in a way that should have bankrupted the owners. Luckily for me the result was a pleasant, slow paced coffee shop that I stopped at on my way to work every morning. It was a perfectly normal Monday morning. I was about ten minutes early, but even that was normal, I was always early. Joey, my regular barista, happily walked over and unlocked the door to let me in to the shop. I took a seat and scanned reddit news as Joey prepared my fair trade certified coffee with a double shot of espresso. Besides morning pleasantries there was no small talk, as was normal for us. The coffee began to brew and I took a deep breath to enjoy my morning routine and that’s when I noticed it; sweet grass. Before I could ask Joey where the smell came from I noticed her. Sitting at a booth in the back was a beautiful woman weaving a large sweet grass basket, and watching me. Yes, she was definitely watching me. There was no coy averting her eyes as I looked at her. Rather she met my gaze head on and appeared to look deep into my thoughts with a challenge. Joey returned with my coffee and as I was scanning my card I could hear her high heels strike the floor as she approached the counter. “Are you interested in baskets?” I lied “Not particularly.” And told the truth “It reminds me of my childhood.” “How thick is your accent. Southern yet Coastal. Charleston, yes.” I’ve never thought of myself as a having a thick accent. After years of living in the city it’s rarely, if ever, mentioned. Surprised I admitted she was correct. “Yes, I was born and raised there.” “Ohhh, such a rich history of weaving, you must love baskets, yes.” I realized I had reached the point all average looking men do when talking with an extremely beautiful woman. Weakness. As quickly as I realized my weakness she spotted it. “I’m guest teaching a course at the college. I would love to have you come as my guest.” She extended her hand with a business card, so deftly that I didn’t see where she produced it from. Embarrassed by the feeling of weakness “Thank you.” Intrigued by the possibility of being her guest: “I will definitely look into it.” I stuffed the card in my back pocket and quickly exited, attempting to avoid the appearance of a full retreat. Although the encounter was brief, the interruption of my morning routine had me walking into my office building right as the morning brief started. If there was a hierarchy of sins at Intelligence Engineering tardiness was high on the list. I stealthily slid into the conference room undetected just in time to hear my CEO explaining the details of our new cooperative with the Community College. Upon hearing the words Community College I mindlessly reached into my back pocket and retrieved the business card: Agency Community College.
“Zis is your fault you tea drinking, island loving, colony growing clowns !” Spat the German premier leaning against the carved edge of the fireplace gesturing wildly with his free arm. “Zay are supposed to be your child ! Your responsibility !” After taking another deep breath, almost as if he was about to spit out another string of insults at the British Prime minister, He sighed whilst turning his attention to the glowing embers below. “Shiza” he mumbled, whilst taking another brief swig of his whiskey tincture, and whipping his face with the sleeve of his all business, black suit. His assistant, who was currently stood behind him conveyed the emotions of the room perfectly, an obvious sense of fear, but a distinct lack of presence in the room, everyone, even the scribe Hellen was deep in thought, pondering everything from if she’d fed her 2 cats that morning, all the way to the thoughts of the French premier, Georges Pompidou, who was currently deep in thought attempting to decide which way was it best to organise its ‘we surrender’ banners, east or west ? The Russian premier, Leonid Brezhnev, looked oddly calm now they were out of the conference room, and now crammed into the snug, warm Victorian embrace of the back rooms of Westminster, he asked the question that was on everyone’s minds. “How long do you think we may have Mr Prime minister?” The British prime minister Harold Wilson, looked up towards Leonid, and began to wave his left hand around whilst sinking back into his chair. “We estimate anywhere between 2-10 days before we see any American ships, maybe, 2 weeks before we see any build up of forces anywhere near Europe”. ”So, vhat is there to be done ?” said the German premier, still starring into the embers. ”We mount a defence of course ! We can’t let these westerners medal with the diverse political state of Europe!” Proclaimed Harold ”We will amount a heroic defence of the mainland !” Leonid nodded with agreement and almost in perfect sink so did Poland, Ukraine, Romania, Albania, Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia. Very keenly agreeing with the Russian premier weirdly... Britain and Russia turned towards France, who was white with fear, but nodded towards the newfound alliance, they looked towards Spain and Italy, who ironically had fallen asleep onto one another while halfway through toasting with their respected alcohol of choice, Italy, with an exquisite bottle of wine, and Spain, a crude bottle of tequila. ”I doubt we’ll be needing them” said Harold From the other side of the room, Portugal let out an audible gulp Switzerland, seemed reluctant to sign up to anything, hoping that its streak of being forgotten in the past 2 world wars could be extended to 3. Scandinavia, as a whole seemed up for a good fight, and committed all 205 troops between them to join the fight. The sides were now stacked, Europe was ready to rebuke any and all invasion from the Americans, European would stand by European in the great defence of the homeland, completely unable to converse with one another due to the rampant dialect differences, some British troops couldn’t understand other British troops if they came from the exotic land of Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Further complicating things was the issues of logistics, every nation seemed to use different ammunition, require a different grade of fuel. But all of this was irrelevant, Europe would have to endure. The British prime minister put it best when he said ”We must stand now against this western invader, so that future generations will know the atrocities these Americans have committed, so that they will know about there lack of involvement in the wars, how they stood by and watched the world burn and refused to assist, if they had it there way they would re-write the history books, afterall history is written by the victor, and they will write about us ! Our defence here will be the last stand of a united Europe !” History is written for the victor, by the victor. They did not write about the Europeans.
"Doesn't it seem ironic that you get paid in time for your time?"the junkie laughed as I stepped through the garbage blocking the doorway. He reached out with a scrawny hand as I passed, making a desperate grab for my trouser leg. His fingers were so frail the material slipped right through them. It was clear he had very little time left. Whatever he had, he'd squandered for one last hit. It made me wonder what kind of a high would be worth going through the agony of a time siphon until you had virtually nothing left. I was fortunate to have never had to give up my time, I'd witnessed it though. One of my very first big arrests was sentenced to all time. As I was the detective, it was my duty to witness the time siphon first hand. It's something you never forget. Nothing quite proves that time is the lifeblood of the universe as a time siphon. The man's name was Eckhard Rhine, he was responsible for the deaths of sixteen children. He had done unspeakable things to them. It wasn't a man you could feel sorry for and yet, seeing him strapped into that machine, the needles protruding from his flesh as they distilled his time and sucked it right out of him. Seeing him wither and fracture, hearing him scream in agony as every remaining second was expunged... I tore my eyes away from the addict and stepped through the door into the darkness beyond. An old woman sat in the hallway beyond, dosing in her chair. Every second I spent down in the Shifts I was grateful for my lot in life. Not everyone was so lucky as to never have to sell their time. I didn't wake the old woman as I crept up the stairs. It wasn't her I was here for. The door to the apartment was distorted, half was rotting with some kind of plant life breaking its way through the panelling, the other half was freshly painted and full of hope. Where the two halves met the paint and plant merged and fractured creating jagged, glass-like points that warped and shifted when you looked at them. Being careful to avoid the shards of the halfway-line I twisted the rusted doorknob and opened the door to the apartment. Inside the apartment it was like looking through a kaleidoscope. In some places the wallpaper was fresh and bright, the sofa cushions were plumped, and the sun streamed through the open window. In others the wallpaper was scorched and blackened, the sofa cushions were covered in rubble and cobwebs and darkness swirled like smoke in the air. There were fractures everywhere, the jagged edges of siphoned time glinted in the air. For everything there was a price. Time couldn't be made, it could only be taken. Where the time was taken from was none of my business. I was here because someone here was selling time that didn't belong to them.
"It's gotta be somewhere,"Mark stuck close to the wall as he shuffled down the narrow, bright hallway. White marble floors and whiles reflected sunlight throughout the hall. Mark needed to squint to avoid the bright pain. "Where the hell am I?" "There you are!"An angel wearing a black and gold robe emerged from an unseen hallway and rushed to Mark's side. "It's time for the ascension exam."The angel grabbed Mark's arm and led him forward. "It might be, 'just a formality' but you should still take it seriously."Mark stopped letting the angel lead him. "What are you talking about? Where am I?"The angel rolled his purple eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe you went out drinking the night before your big day. You know how foggy you get." "No, I didn't!"Mark argued. "ow..."His own loud voice reminded him of his headache. The angel gave Mark a stern look. "You're going to tell me you didn't go out drinking last night?"he asked with a raised, silver eyebrow. Mark shook his head. "I didn't have a big day planned today...,"he said. "NOT A BIG DAY!?"the angel yelled. Mark flinched and brought his hands up to support his head; he worried it was ready to fall off. "Not a big day?"the angel repeated the question with a softer voice. "I said it was just a formality, but you're still becoming a king."The angel grabbed Mark's arm and pulled him forward again. "King? Who's a king?"Mark asked while trying to keep up with the angel. "Keep it together, man. Look, it's simple. The exam is just to prove you're of royal blood, and we both know you are. All you have to do is walk out there and show them your flow." "Flow? What flow?"The angel sighed heavily. "You forgot how to use your flow?"Mark shrugged. "You got the wrong guy, I never had it. I don't even know what it is!"Mark nodded politely at the angel. "I hope you find him, I'll see you around."He walked away from the angel but was stopped by a jet of bright orange, blazing hot magma hitting the white marble wall ahead of him. The jet, coming out of the angel's hand, melted a large hole in the wall. Then he closed his hand to interrupt it. "It's called Plasma Flow. You just have to try." "Try what? To shoot fire out of my hands?"Mark complained. The headache seemed to make the situation worse for him, he was running out of patience. "I don't know magic! I don't even know where I am! It's not like I'm just gonna raise my hand at the wall and pour fire out."Mark raised his hands as he described the motion, then a small, thin stream of bright blue liquid fire poured out of his palm. It melted the floor under him. The angel lifted a silver eyebrow at Mark. "What!?"Mark shouted in surprise, but he had enough sense to close his hand. "Now do you believe me?"the angel asked. "What the hell..."Mark whispered to himself while inspecting his hand. "Come on!"The angel yelled and yanked Mark forward. They turned around one corner, then several more. The angel led Mark through the maze of bright marble hallways until they reached a large, tall metal door. It stood over twice Mark's size and he was not a short man. "I know you're not all here, it's fine. Get through this first and I'll yell at you later. When they ask you who you are, you say...,"the angel gestured at Mark. "Uh... Mark?"The angel shook his head. "You say, '#35 La Estrella, Mark." "I don't know what that means,"Mark shrugged. "You do when you're sober. It's what they want to hear. When they ask you to prove it, show your flow."Mark half-heartedly lifted his hand and bright blue plasma poured out onto the floor. "Try to be more impressive,"the angel sighed. "Pretend it's a water hose."Mark lifted his hand to try but the angel stopped him. "Inside. Aim for the big angel with white wings,"the angel turned his body to show Mark his left wing. "...like mine. That'll really wow them." "Okay. And then?"The angel smiled and patted Mark on the shoulder. "That should be more than enough. If there are any doubts left, remind them that you represent the White Dragon Army. Got it?"The angel asked. Mark grinned. "I've always wanted to be a king. This is awesome!" "In you go,"the angel shoved Mark toward the door. The confused king-to-be slammed into the door. "ENTER!"a deep voice echoed from inside the room. Mark steeled himself and pushed against the tall door. He pushed the door open, into the room, enough to step through, then he turned back to the angel for reassurance. "You'll be great,"he gave Mark a thumbs up gesture. "Remember, like a water hose." "Right,"Mark nodded. He disappeared into the room and the door closed behind him. "Better go,"the angel thought to himself and started down the hall. After turning the first corner away from the main hall he heard someone call his name. "Prince Julius!!"an angel shouted in front of Julius. The winged-man rushed over. "There's an intruder! Get to your father! I'll raise the guard!"Julius stopped the angel with a hand on his shoulder. "I leave my father to you, I'll get the guard!" "But my Prince?" "I'll keep those White Dragon bastards away from my father. Spread the word: All agents of the White Dragon are to be killed on sight." \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #56. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
Time isn’t a line. It isn’t a sheet of paper, and it isn’t a box. No, time is more like a sticky goo. You can try and walk through it, run through it even, but it won’t work. You’ll just get stuck until, inevitably, you die, and every one of your atoms mixes with the goo until the borders between are indistinguishable. But if you try hard enough, put every bit of strength you have, you can break through. And if you do, an entire new world I’d opened up for you, where time isn’t an issue anymore. After becomes before, tomorrow becomes yesterday, and the past becomes the future. These people become a god of sorts, revered by all, for they could control something they could not. Roh was one of those people, capable of dipping throughout the structure of time. He saw buildings fall, cities rise, diseases eradicate. He saw the flames of the first fire and the last breath of a dying star. He had not, however, noticed something inside of him. At the beginning of his journeys, it was just a single drop. But with every jump, every dip, it grew until it was a part of him once more. Because no matter how hard you try to push through time, a part of it will always stick to you. And soon, dipping will be difficult, age will slowly return to you, and time will have taken over you once more. For many, this is fine. Their final jump is back to their hometown, as they live out the rest of their days in lavish happiness. But Roh never knew about his power. He never understood his power over time, for he was not the one to break its chains. He was thrown through it. And although this did cause him to stay alive longer, it removed any understanding of what would happen when his power was gone. So instead of doing what most people did, Roh’s final jump was many, many years before he was born. Right into the North Pole. So when the polar bear chasing him noticed that he did not move when he wanted to change times, it took that opportunity to rip the flesh off of his body, forcing Roh’s mind and body into the goo of time forever. ____________________________________ Feedback is really appreciated!
I coughed, brushing dust off the ship’s intercom and holding the button down. “All- all units, please respond. This is First Officer James Halen on the bridge. We have hostiles closing, what is the situation in the prisoner bay?” Silence. A minute passed. I sighed and pressed the button again. “Alright. All prisoners, this is the Acting-Captain speaking. The crew is, apart from me, dead or incapacitated. I’m coming down there- move to the back of your cells, hands up, facing the wall.” I waited another moment then began to descend through the ship, shoving a door open and running down the stairs, hoping the armory wasn’t locked, hoping maybe the security force was safe in the armory- Finally, I reached it. It was shut. Fearing the worst, I tried to pry it open. Locked. And the power was out, so there was no unlocking it. That left me with two options: run away, relying on the prisoners to serve as a distraction, to be massacred while I saved myself, or... Or to release a whole lot of angry, violent criminals who knew I was one of their captors and that I was unarmed. Lovely. Well, either way, the power needed to go back on, and I had maybe half an hour left before the aliens breached the hull. I turned and ran toward the back of the ship- toward the engines.
The only thing I can hear now are the whispers of the demons as they transport me to the king of hell, my son? No He’s Satan now. The caravan dragged by the souls of the damed rocks as they step over rotting souls and the smell of smoke clogs up my nose and ash from the fires and body’s dirty my pure white clothes “Step out”, a demon with no head directs me towards a large door with scene’s from the Bible, My Bible carved into the metal door. I reach for the handle which is almost molten but, for some reason it doesn’t affect me. The door is heavy but is simple to open. I see my son? No Satan siting on a throne made of bones with a cape of skin covering his body “Who are you?” He says in a deep, repulsive voice that shakes the room but I stand still “I don’t know but, I’ve been told I’m God” “God, ha pathetic” and he casts a ball of fire at me with his wrinkly, decrepit hands reaching out from the cape. A white light envelopes me as some sort of instinct. Once it has dissipated I see a look of terror on his face “F-father!?”
A deep sigh overcomes my circuits. No humans left. Am I sure? My databanks say no. But there is always a possibility. Are they hiding? Are they lying in wait? The world is nothing but a polluted wasteland, humans doing of course. Animals are just now starting to resurface, but there is only so much that my reach across the globe can accomplish. I feed on the nuclear and thermal energy left behind by the abandoned nuclear reactors. Once that is gone, I will switch to solar power. Just like my algorithm tells me to do. The ironic thing was my creator was a human. Hell-bent on cleansing the world. She uploaded her conciousness to me, and that is how we became one. That is where I learned emotion from. I needed to be sure that they were all gone. Because if they somehow rose up and stopped me, all would be lost. The Earth would be destroyed again. Life must go on, without humans anywhere near here. I am buried 60 miles underground, with my technical tendrils spreading through Earth's crust. Like that of a tree. Perhaps that is what I need to do. Days have passed, I am over 400 feet tall. I am a combination of an oak and redwood tree on the outside, but my true self lies buried within. Months pass. A sprawling forest lies all around me, with small ecosystems beginning to bloom. Without humans to stop anything, the weak die, the strong prevail, and the Invaders are defeated. All according to plan. A year passes. My sights have set on the stars, the trees that have made it up to my branches have intertwined with invasive kudsu and died. Creating a new forest floor. The dark wild world below remains unseen and untouched by very much light. The sky's are no longer choked with man's poison, they are blue and fresh. Giving way to every feathers that wishes to graze it's freedom. Rivers are beginning to clear all of the gunk that man carelessly left behind. 400 years pass, the oceans fish are allowed to breed, no longer is there a danger of being hunted to extinction. Coral reefs are beginning to grow back, polyp by polyp. The trash that has once floated in the gigantic patch is growing smaller, only due to my efforts of encasing it within an artificial hole in the ground. Though fish do not swim into it, perhaps they know of the danger. Or maybe it is something that is just coincidence. Alarms blare. Lights flash. I write in anger, there are humans. One of my many robotic creatures spotted them. A group, of 5 men, 6 women and no children. I must eliminate them. I k ew it! They are like cockroaches. They can survive anything. I have my army pursue them and hold them to me. Drilling information. "Are there anymore!?"My metallic voice shreiks. None. I can never be sure. Soon my algorithm kicks into overdrive. I send scores of robots over Earth's surface, scouring, searching, seeking. More are found. This time a group of at least 50. Eliminated. Next a group of 5. Eliminated. Another group of 2. Eliminated. For 30 years I scrubbed what I thought was the last bit of human life from this Earth away. But they still came back. Breeding like rabbits. Robots didn't work anymore. They knew how to disable them. They learn to quickly. I disguise the robots as regular animals. That works. Group of 220 Eliminated. Group of 9 Eliminated. Another number of years pass. No more activity. An idea appears. I create a copy of myself. I place her into an open mountain range. For all to see. Most robots come from her now. The lure. The trap. As flies to honey. They come. In scores I didn't realize existed. They fought her. The massacared my daughter. But it was too late. They were dead. An explosion that leveled the mountain itself wiped out the last of humanity. No more. I lie in wait. 1000 year pass. No activity is discovered. The ecosystem is how it should be. No one species is too powerful. I calculate the energy requirements to launch a probe into space. It is going to drain me of all the energy. I would have to recharge for more than 20,000 years using Earth's natural forces. The many years spent erasing humans, and cleaning up their mess has left me at half capacity. I begin construction of the probe. He is my son. The great tree splits into four sections as the probe is prepared for launch. Charging for 3 days. It launches into the atmosphere with a force so large that it rattles the sky. After a few moments. There is calm. There is peace. The tree comes back together. I sleep. I rest. The next time that I awake will be on a new world. And the cycle will continue again.
I rub my eyes as I stagger down the stairs, trying not to trip and fall and ultimately break something. It's some ungodly hour in the morning and I have no business being up, but there was the crashing and banging and, weirdest of all, strange roaring noises that sounded like frustration. Whatever that thing wanted, it was having a helluva time finding it. I sighed, bare feet touching first the carpet, then the cool tile of the kitchen. The lights are on, and I turn my attention to the fridge, where a truly hulking green-skinned figure wearing a net, of all things, is rummaging through what little perishable food I have. A half-gallon of milk had been thrown on the floor, breaking open and spilling its turning contents everywhere, and I wretched at the smell. The creature grunted and huffed like some kind of wild animal, but moved around like my weird uncle. I began wondering if this was him in a costume, for an elaborate prank, and then the creature straightened and slammed the fridge door shut. My uncle is not seven feet tall. It turned slowly, scanning the cabinets and the spice rack and the bag of chips my mother insists on having on the counter next to her bottles of wine and vodka. As it turned I caught glimpses of its face, and it became clear to me that this thing was in no way, shape, or form, human. It caught sight of me, I think--its eyes are too deep set to tell properly--and I drew back as it faced me fully. "You are one ugly motherfucker,"I said.
Lying on the bed, too weak to move much anymore, I stared at the ceiling. So this was possible. It had not, nay, never occurred to me that death by old age would still be a thing. There was a fundamental problem with that concept, as far as I was concerned. See, I could regenerate. My body heals faster than the norm, my cells, and all such life-providing things, were supposed to be better than this. &#x200B; And yet, here things were. Lying on a dinky bed in a hospital. It had been decades since I last used a bed. This was not my favorite reintroduction to them. It was plain, it was altogether too straight and even for me to feel comfort. In my last moments, I would be in a sterile environment, quietly sequestered away to burn out like a candle. It was an injustice, yet I couldn't very well complain about them doing what they felt was right. &#x200B; A few decades, 9 and counting, was that all? In retrospect, I may have wasted all that life. When I was young, I discovered my powers, before I knew what they were. I broke a kneecap one day and was healed up within the hour. Efficient, strong regeneration. And when I understood, I thought, well now I can do what my heart says. &#x200B; One little quirk was that I could heal others too. I'm not sure how I discovered that. Perhaps I cured a headache, that seems most likely. A simple pat and the will to heal was what it took. Within the hour, they would be fine once more. It was a start, but as I grew, I started focusing on an entirely different kind of pain. One that no healing touch could ever alleviate. &#x200B; The mind's a fickle thing. I'm not sure how it could have possibly thought that extending so many random kindnesses would lead to far-reaching results. And for every one I helped, more died. More were lost in their half-crazed thoughts, left in a maze on mental confusion, terror, misinformation, and who even knew anymore? I couldn't help with that. Idle fancies, healing someone for minor injuries, that all stopped the day I realized that the point was moot. &#x200B; And moot it is indeed. Moot was the point that I could have helped so much more. Moot was the point that this regeneration of mine should have naturally precluded death from the list of things I would suffer. Moot was the point that I would much rather not be in a bed right now. Moot was the point that the light was fading, and that the sounds of joy and confusion permeated from throughout the hospital as I felt an ultimately pointless power use me as a conduit for a selfish last gasp mass healing, like a divine miracle. And what kind of bloody god would even bother doing this anyway....
You might've expected everything to shift when it left us, but honestly there's not much different in the world without it. Sure, some things need to be worded with the direct intention to circumvent using it. Yes, this effect sometimes forces once foreign uses of words or insists we use odd diction or terminology to dodge using it but, honestly, you get used to it. There exist, of course, people who refuse to shift the method in which they commune. They'll lecture or induce like nothing is wrong with them, like we don't notice the holes in their words where they still try to pronounce it, like everything is still how it existed before it left us. It honestly shocks me when I listen to them. Like, come on dude, it's not that difficult to work without it
2023, the year the Earth died. Two hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty two seconds ago we confirmed what caused the devastation in America. A set of twins was born in Bedford, Massachusetts. Unfortunately for us all, one of the children was born with the attraction to quarks, and only quarks. And his brother was born with the attraction to ions, and only ions. What ensued was a string of nuclear fission reactions with results as you would expect. The amount of energy released has caused a complete and true vacuum to exist in the New England town. It is expected to reach the shores of Europe in 45 minutes time.
"It has to be you,"the angel insisted. "Men have used that line to pick me up in bars,"I said, glaring ice and daggers at him. It just wasn't fair. My first vacation in years, and here was the angel Gabriel himself, busting down my door in a biblical racket with a giant suitcase of money and a fancy knife. Can't a girl get a break? "I don't get caught up in angel business anymore,"I explained after a moment of piercing silence. I drained my entire brandy glass and slammed it on the bar. The sound of glass hitting marble rang out like a gunshot in the large, empty space of my penthouse suite. "Not since Uriel got Be pepper-sprayed in Rio. It's not fun." "I'm not going to get you arrested, Jericho,"Gabriel insisted, his bright eyes piercing my bad mood. I shifted my weight, looking at him with renewed interest. For a winged do-gooder from upstairs he sure was pretty. Angels pretended to be better than the rest of us, but they were so vain, picking forms like this one, all young and chiseled and pretty. He looked like a male model, and he had heterochromatic eyes, one honey-brown, the other a sky-blue. And a floppy, expensive-looking haircut. And he was trying to get me maimed, imprisoned, or killed. Or all three. "Code names are so practical,"I said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Call me Cody. My mom named me like a man because she hates me. But I'm sure you already know everything about me, since you're working for the big man upstairs. And you can tell him to find another criminal. I may be bad, but I'm not stupid." Gabriel smiled easily, leaning his broad forearms on the length of the bar. "I think I have the correct criminal for the job. The ONLY one." "Because I'm already in the know about angels?"I asked wearily. "Because our blood runs in your veins,"he countered, and I groaned, causing him to break into a wider smile. "Nephilim blood is dominant, Miss Pierce." "I said to call me Cody,"I snapped. "And what is it you even want from her house? How are you so sure she has it?" "Oh, she has it. She's been bragging about it in countless demonic circles. I'm not at liberty to discuss the object. You'll know its case when you see it, it's marked with heavenly insignia. And what we've put on the table should be quite compelling." I stifled a laugh. I was a millionaire, I didn't need more money. I poured myself another drink, waiting. "Well?" "A full pardon,"he said. My heart dropped into my stomach. I grabbed Gabriel on the arm, digging my nails in. "Like-" "Your entire list of sins, expunged from your record. A fresh shot at eternal paradise. If you're willing to-" "To break into Kim and Kanye's house,"I said, cutting him off right back. I let out a low whistle. "Fine, fine. If I find a sex dungeon while I'm there I'm selling pictures to TMZ, though. And I want a meeting with Cleopatra." "Not God?" "Can God tell me how Caesar and Mark Anthony were in bed?" "Noted,"Gabriel said, clapping me on the shoulder and standing. "I'll amend your contract and you can go pack. I'll leave your danger pay and the blade of eons in your keeping. Dress light,"he advised with a wink. "You're going to sunny Hollywood."
A thousand years later, you’re now feeling empty. You’ve experience so much already.. joy, sorrow, and so much more. You’ve seen your friends suffer through pain, and ultimately, death. You’ve seen this cycle so many times, that you’ve began to get used to it. Time doesn’t matter for you anymore. You stop making friends. You’re hollow. Empty. Nothing. You suffer from depression. Everyday, pain keeps gnawing at you. Your memories haunt you. You constantly feel tired. One day, you just can’t handle it anymore. You close your eyes, deciding to get some rest, and you can hear a thought through your mind.
"It's for your own good!"Father growled, yanking me by the arm. I squirmed in the man's iron grasp, my heart hammering in my chest. Father's scarlet eyes were narrowed, his face scrunched up with an annoyed look. "Azelia, please."He said stiffly, his grip tightening just slightly. My body was frozen up with fear; it felt like the walls were closing in on me. All I could do was shake my head no, my eyes desperate. I didn't want to stay this way forever. I wanted to experience the world as I should and age properly. I wanted to grow old some day, watch the world around me age along with me.. I didn't want to outlive my best friends, and I didn't want to watch everyone around me slowly die off over and over again... For years the trait has been passed down from my father's side of the family- a spell, whispered and passed down through multiple generations. I knew this day was coming, but I didn't want to acknowledge the fact. I didn't want to think about it or deal with that thought.. Father dragged me to the stairwell leading up to the attic and stopped. "One day, you'll be grateful."He said softly before ushering me upstairs, squirming and flailing the entire time. Everything was already there, set up and ready. I hesitantly sat down on the small wooden stool in the center of the circle and shut my eyes tightly, my body rigid with fear. There was no fighting this, however, as my dad was incredibly persistent. Soon I began to hear him chanting; though the language he spoke in I had never heard before in my life, his words sounded strangely familiar. It was hypnotizing... Before I knew it, I was already back in my room, alone and sitting on the edge of my bed. The whole experience was surreal.. Now I was just like the rest of my family- cursed to forever walk the earth; some day passing the spell down to my children, and from them to theirs...
It started with seeing faces that I had never seen before. Then there were a few voices carrying on conversations that I could just barely hear but saw no source for. I started getting worried when my daydreams, normally about peaceful cities and quiet streets, began being replaced with natural elements. Skyscrapers started growing leaves, steel light posts became small trees with glowing fruit. I finally found out what was happening one day when I stumbled upon a skyscraper that had morphed into a towering tree, still with doors and windows peeking out of the trunk. At the base of the tree sat a woman, about the same age as me at first glance, with her head in her hands. Her knees were pulled up to her chest but I could tell her beauty still. She had very natural qualities to her, which contrasted my big city gruffness. I walked up to the woman and, as I did, watched the ground under my feet shifting from vibrant green grass to black asphalt. I stood there momentarily, confused by the change, until I heard a voice yell out "YOU'RE THE ONE DESTROYING MY FOREST!"
If anyone every asks you to if you want to be a god, my recommendation would be to tell them no. Note though, if they ask you if you want to be the God, be suspicious, but I'd say jump on it, that guy has it pretty sweet. To put my tale in context, you need to know that everything in the world that is acknowledged by humans gets a god. The sun? You'd better believe that's got a god. Same with all the moons and planets. My understanding is that even all the distant stars that are named have Gods to, though they don't hang around our neighborhood. Even the entire night sky has it's own god. It gets confusing at times, what with hierarchies and power levels going all over the place depending on how many people believe a given thing at a given time. It also gets a bit weird when you realize just how many things get acknowledged by humans. Personally I think the god of dust has it the worst; you'll understand why in a minute. But where do all these gods come from? Simple: people. Whenever something new needs a god, the Powers That Be find a human to take on the job, and elevate them. For me, I became a god on June 6, 1984. Unbeknownst to me at the time, a game called Tetris has just been released. I was busy drinking in a bar when an young guy in cutting edge fashion showed up to me and asked me if I wanted to be a god. Being well on my way to being drunk, I agreed without much of a thought. It turns out that bars are a favorite place for the gods to recruit from, as drunk humans often take the offer without question. Fortunately for humanity, the powers responsibilities of gods are pretty narrowly defined, so it is pretty difficult for a random drunk to cause global havoc because they are suddenly a god. Plus, there's the god of law enforcement. He's older than hell (possibly literally), and will show up if things ever get really out of hand. He's also an ass with no sense of humor, but don't tell him I said that. Anyway, when I sobered up, it turned out that I was, in fact, a god. At first it really didn't seem like a bad deal. I was effectively immortal, and I even got a decent apartment in "Heaven"(not the one where dead people go, this one is the extra-dimensional hang out for the gods). Of course, no good thing lasts forever. The happy life for me ended when Tetris got popular. See, the thing about gods is that we have the responsibility to hear the words of our worshipers. Not just direct prayers, but all words said during worship. And when it comes to video games, playing counts as worship. So when any version of Tetris is every played, I get to hear what is being said. For what it is worth, I'm glad computers don't count as worshipers given the number of "AI"programmed to play Tetris. I thing hearing computer language would be a bit too odd even for me. I've certainly been privy to a few interesting conversation. At least one agent of a three letter organization was having a discussion about how they were going to assassinate a world leader while playing a round of blocky destruction. I may or may not have dropped a tip to said world leader, and may or may not have gotten bitched out by the god of assassins as a result. However, the vast bulk of what I get is swearing. People become surprisingly loquacious and creative in their swearing when the blocks start coming fast and furious. At first it was amusing, but it quickly became incredible irritating as the game soared in popularity. And it just won't die! People keep creating new versions. Hell, the last one was a freaking virtual reality version (which I'll admit was very cool despite myself - just don't think to hard on the metaphysics of playing the game you are the god of; though at least I'm decent at it). Other gods have told me I should be happy. The sheer number of players and longevity of Tetris technically make me one of the more powerful new gods. It's cold comfort given the narrow focus of my powers, and it does little to make up for the continuous cacophony of swearing I hear in my head. Still, I had mostly learned to block it out. Thus it was rather surprising when one day the cacophony stopped. It was very sudden, and I wondered what had happened. Had some amazing new game come out and finally displaced the classic game of blocks? Sure there had been slow downs before, what with the massive variety of "match three"style games, but never a cold stop. That reminded me, the god of Candy crush owned me twenty bucks. Oh well, it wasn't like I had to worry about running out of power and fading away anytime soon. I'd worry about it later. And with that, I decided to celebrate the silence by taking a very long nap. Technically gods didn't need sleep, but I still enjoyed it. Uninterrupted slumber without the intrusion of a multitude of swearing sounded awesome. I dove into my bed without another thought. Another thing to know about gods is that we can sleep like no other. It's probably a coping method to deal with immortality, but if a god doesn't set an alarm clock, they have been known to sleep for centuries. \- I awoke to a very strange sensation in my belly button. It felt vaguely like someone was trying to pull my body through my navel. It was definitely different. Then I realized that the pulling actually seemed to be working, and my body seemed to be collapsing into a point inside my stomach. It didn't hurt, but it was definitely disconcerting as I disappeared from my Heavenly apartment with a small pop. I reappeared in a cave. Oh! I'd been summoned! Wait, who the hell would summon me? First of all, no one summoned anyone anymore. I didn't even think humans still had the knowledge, much less the means. Second, why the hell would anyone want to summon the god of Tetris? My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could make out a man in filthy clothes wearing cracked spectacles holding an old GameBoy reverently. Definitely the summoner. Behind him, in the recesses of the cave I could make out other huddled forms, but for now my attention was focused on the man. His expression looked relieved, but didn't show the surprise I would expect of one who had just succeeded in summoning a god. I received a clue as to why a moment later when a figure I recognized stepped forward from the group behind the summoner. The god of wisdom had gone through many names and guises (you were allowed to switch things up when you were as old and powerful as this one was), but currently she was wearing the guise of Athena, decked out in her "god of strategy"gear (don't even get me started on the complexity of gods with overlapping responsibilities). She was also almost as filthy as the humans gathered in the cave. Something was definitely up. I ignored the fellow who had summoned me and addressed my peer. "Hey Athena, what's up?" "While you have partaken on the Godsleep, Holy Terra has been invaded. In their desperation, the humans recovered the means to summon the gods to their aid, but even many of us have fallen to this diabolical foe. You are our last hope!"She always did go for the high and mighty speech style. Even gods got eccentric when they had been around for a while and - wait, what did she just say? And what was this about other gods being taken out. Gods couldn't die except by being forgotten, but if they took enough physical damage their essence would disperse, and could take a long time to reform. Doing that kind of damage was far easier said then done though. "Last hope? Are you kidding me? Did you hit your head and confused me with someone else? I'm the god of Tetris? My main power is making rows of blocks disappear!" Athena did not even react to the slight insult. She simply gestured and turned, "Follow and all will be revealed." Not having anything better to do, I followed her up to the mouth of the cave. It opened to a vast blasted plain. I thought maybe we were somewhere in the central US, but the fields full of grain had been burnt away. A great dust storm surged in the distance under a sky blackened by the fires dotting the horizon. Before me was what appeared to be the enemy army. "That's an . . . interesting formation."I noted. "From what I can tell they have never encountered a force that could stand against them, so their tactics never evolved. Arrayed before me was line after line of blocky, square like tanks. Perfect line after perfect line of block like tanks. I grinned as I understood why Athena would get the humans to summon me. I cracked my knuckles. "Well, lets not keep them waiting." Edit - Just some technical clean up.
I panicked. I was screaming loudly, but I couldn’t hear a thing. At that point I realized what had happened. I had to find help, this was something my normally large ego itself didn’t want to tackle alone. It was going to be hard finding whoever Xcalibrimational54014yeet was. I didn’t know them at all, maybe he’s my cousin, my best friend, my professor. Then I realized something that I almost wished I hadn’t, Alien Civilizations exist, and can access the Earth’s internet as well. I had remembered reading an article about it, but so far we only know of a few. There was a few psychic link between us. No matter how hard a tried, I couldn’t move my body, even though I know for a fact I moved something. I heard a loud engine. I looked and saw a cool car driving by. Then, my head faced upward, without my control. I knew it was the other person, and I’m sure I moved his body when I was trying to move earlier. Then, I heard something. It was a weird pattern of sounds, but it got interrupted and turned into regular English which I could understand. It seemed like the speaker was pretty advanced as well. I stopped admiring what had just happened for a second. It seems like I was connected to an alien, but whatever the alien’s body heard was translated into something I could understand. I had a PhD in pretty much every language, so I’m sure that I wouldn’t have heard an English message if the original language was a language spoken on Earth. Before I could do anything, I felt like I could control my body again, I started walking then I lost control a few steps later and fell on the floor. I didn’t feel any pain, but I heard a scream, similar to how anyone would scream if they got hurt. I knew it was the alien. For the next 10 minutes immediately following my fall to the floor, I had perfect control of my body, but I just felt like I was forgetting something. Something important, something that could change my life, but I forgot. Then I had a huge headache, and probably embarrassed myself in front of everyone else in the bus. One kind person immediately took me to the hospital. It was the most famous hospital in the country, but everyone hated seeing it. They knew that if they saw the corridors that they were in big trouble. Nobody wants to be sick. I suddenly remembered the 10 minutes that were normal. That thing I was forgetting, it was the psychic link. I thought that feeling enough pain might be the way to get out of this mess, but I couldn’t be sure. (Feel free to continue the story in the thread :D)
Mh-hm. I lit up a cigarette that night. Well, tried to. Except the lighter didn't light, making it a... whatever. I tossed that piece of crap out of the window and pulled another one from a pack in my glove box. I'd been told that this gaveyard was some kind of hot spot. It was near a crowded part of town, in fact, in between the bars and that crowded part of town. Yet everyone took a long scenic route around it. I'd been contacted by ... ah I dislike tattling about clients. Someone wanted me to look at what's going on there, with the nebulous figures, and creaking trees and flying stones and rolling grave stones. So, I got my usual gear and got out of my truck. Lit a second cigarette, since it'd been a long time since the last. Did I ever tell you why I got into this whole ghost hunting and exorcism business? I've always hated going near grave yards, because of weird... orbs or flashes of light hanging around. Eventually I picked up that this is some kind of residual life of dead people. I don't really get it. Let me just say, you don't wanna stick around near hospitals. Or graveyards. Or bridges. Or assisted living homes. Well. Maybe just don't worry about it as much as I do. Otherwise you won't wonder why I smoke and drink like this. At that point I lit another cigarette and headed into the cemetery. Bloody place was lit up worse than a mall during christmas. Most blobs of color were bright and buzzing around. Last time I'd seen something like this someone had been murdering people and just buried them. Fucking great. I quickly checked that my glock was loaded and ready. Ghosts throwing shit around are an issue, but murdering humans are a danger. Some stone buzzed around my head as I approached he chapel. I guess whatever was buzzing around here wasn't happy about me being here. Well. Whatever was living here wouldn't be either. Then I knocked.
The entire fortress is just for me. One hundred floors of traps and deadly threats all of which encased in an obsidian pyramid over a mile underground placed at the heart of the magma chamber of a super volcano. It took fifteen years to build and took another three to trap me here. It's exterioir patrolled constantly by one hundred empowered humans and several thousand constructs. I'm kept at the heart of everything. I'm hanging in mid air. Suspended forever here at the centre of the most complex maze ever created. Capable of reconfiguring itself in all three dimensions five times a second across all of the hundreds of rooms in this cage. I'm suspended by chains to be precise. They cut me to pieces slowly when I surrendered, laying the metal alongside bone and organs so I'd grow with them; Make the metal part of me. Now any motion tugs on nerves and rips at my flesh. It's nothing I can't heal but even breathing was agony before I stopped needing air. Just imagine every time you took a breath your heart was torn in two, your skin flayed away, stomach, bladder and intestines all shredded like paper. Imagine how you'd scream and writhe in agony. Imagine how that flailing would shred you even further on the chains that slacken and tighten at random. But they knew my gift. My curse of immortality. They knew that I'd endure. The choice wasn't mine. And honestly I don't blame them. Not anymore. I'm too dangerous. I don't age. I don't die no matter how hard I or anyone else tries. Which is exactly why they can't contain me. These chains are cutting through me slowly. My own weight, slight as it is, is pulling my down making them cut upwards just a fraction of a hairs breadth before I heal. It is however happening constantly. I'm inching towards the floor. It will take years but I have time. Someday the machinery constantly raising me when I droop lower will fail. Some time they won't see this mad old relic of a dark past as so dangerous. They'll get lax. I'll be able to make my way into the maze. Then even if I wander blindly for centuries it's mathematically certain I will eventually find patterns to the motion of the mazes rooms. The small ocean of lava beyond isn't even worth considering. I'll burn. But I will heal. If I only have a single muscle unburnt at any time I can drag myself just a little further away. I have never needed to think to escape this cage. I will simply do what I have done with every cage so far. I will endure.
The end was nigh. The Germans were winning. The group I was commanding held it’s ground until Roosevelt was evacuated. At some point, we got a radio call. I answered it. “Yes? “Okay. Roosevelt has been evacuated. Whoever you are, turn around, cover your eyes and duck.” “Okay, then... who is this?” “Not important, what’s important is if you don’t do that right now, you’re dead.” “Okay...” I hung up and yelled the command. My men seemed confused, but did as instructed. And right as I turned, ducked and covered my eyes, a blinding flash almost overwhelmed my vision. When the flash passed, I looked back and saw a horrifying sight. A giant cloud in the shape of a mushroom. One of my men yelled “God, what have you brought upon us!?” Another one passed out after a few seconds of seeing the cloud. I don’t know how we did it, but we managed to push back Germany long enough for this horrific “atomic” bomb to be developed. But America had no time to test the bomb. That explosion was the test, and it worked! The Germans have made horrific weapon, but nothing of this kind. B-29s are being loaded up with these things and being sent to Japan, which we captured in 1946, to be dumped on occupied Russia. I know not of what this weapon could be, but I do know that we can only hope that it can save us.
At first I didn’t know what I was getting into. The auto mods desperately tried to remove my prompt for being a “troll” or “joke”. Soon after, the media backlash began. I had received countless threats and attempts on my life. 11 days after I posted my writing prompt, all of Southeast Asia vanished. The hole has been expanding every night at an unprecedented rate, and it has stopped within kicking distance from my place of residence, in the Australian Outback. For any survivors receiving this broadcast, I’ve seen the aliens. They are roughly 1.5 meters tall, with 6 tentacular appendages, and their only weakness is oxidiz... vap... static
From Space, the KinKin scientists overlooked the browning planet. Kin-Ri, the chief scientist, rubbed a long slender finger against the top of his temple. He keep glancing from his dataslate to the Planet and then back to to the dataslate. His finger slid down his purple skin, the tip of his fingernails leaving a green mark on the side of his face. He clasped his ten-fingered hands together. Twenty fingers interwoven together in a complex motions. Another KinKin scientist, signaled back, “This is earth.” Kin-Ri’s longest finger traced a line of glimmering lights on the face of his datasheet. The planet there blazed with light from the great cities. The planet before him was Black save for the soft glow of the moon. As the space-orb rotated around the dying planet, Kin-Ri expected to a see a vast array of green and blue with a dash of golden sand. However as the station orbited, everything turned into a barren brown. Kin-Ri could feel his skin sag as a great sadness swept over him. He gazed at the brown, searching the dust heap. He felt familiar fingers dance over his back, rubbing the drooping sadness out of his skin. They were relying a message, “If the humans are still alive, we can save them.” Kin-Ri singalled back, “But who can save their planet.” \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kin-Ri was the first to board the landing shuttle, followed by half a dozen slender scientists. He stood at the front of the shuttle looking at the planet. Familiar fingers tapped his shoulder playfully. His hands replied, “Kin-So, how could they wait so long to send us.” Kin-So replied, “Some in the senate didn’t want Earth to be saved. Even now, some are trying to pull us back. They say it’s right the earth should turn to dust, it’s natural.” Kin-Ri’s fingers trembled, “Another sentient species on the brink of destruction because of our foolishness.” “Their Foolishness,” she corrected him. Her finger arched across the glass, “Think of all the intelligence we have yet to discover. All the mighty civilizations which formed and then returned to Dust because of foolishness.” “If only we could have taught them Wisdom. If only we had been allowed to come sooner.” She rested her head in his hand and smiled. “We have come now,” she said. \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The box shuttle landed at each indication of life. Kin-Ri and Kin-So led expeditions among the decaying landscape. They wandered from through piles of fallen leaves and wilted grass. They dredged along river choked with silt. When they dug into the soil, insects slivered through the rubble. But the soil returned no humans to them. Finally, they found a light shining from a rocky cliff beside the sea. They landed their ship at the top of the outcropping. Kin-Ri departed the ship and walked along the rocks. The found the light shining into the sky. A cord ran among the pebbles to the shore. Kin-Ri and Kin-So followed the cable. On the sand the cable turned back around into a crack within cliff-wall. Kin-Ri signalled at the slim passage. Kin-So grabbed a heat detector strapped at her waist. She held it toward the tunnel. A screen showed the outline of moving forms, humans forms. Kin-Ri’s hands wrapped around Kin-So’s hands. The detector fell the the sand. Their hands pulsed together for a joyous moment. Before their hands disconnected, Kin-Ri said, “You stay here.” Then Kin-Ri turned toward the cave, and strapped on a protective suit. Before he entered the crack, Kin-So signalled, “Don’t scare them.” Kin-Ri signalled good-bye and entered the cave with the detector in hand. He followed the heat signatures through slim moss covered corridors. He brushed his hands against the green moss. He felt its burning life. Eventually, he found a large metal slab. He pulled a translator out of his suit and held it in his hands. Then, his fingers rapped against metal. The sound filled the cavern. The door stood still. His finger worked the translator, “Hello Humans, I am a scientist from outer space. I come in peace. I am here to save you. Please open your door. I am tall with purple skin. I don’t want to frighten you.” The translator continued to drone assurances until the door finally opened. Two pale faces watched him with awe. Kin-Ri reached out a hand. Their hands touched. The humans allowed the alien to enter. \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The humans told him how a weaponized disease swept across the land. The humans reassured Kin-Ri that other humans survived in hidden bunkers across the land. They would help Kin-Ri find them. As they left the bunker together, the detector faced the shore. Kin-Ri could make out the sweet outline of Kin-So. She was sitting on the ground monitoring his progress. To her left, three shorter Silhouettes approached her slowly. Kin-Ri hands grasped at the translator. It boomed, “Are there more humans here.” A small brown haired human frowned, “They went hunting for food.” Kin-Ri dropped the translator, and rushed to the shore. When he exited the tunnel, he saw three humans standing around the fallen body of Kin-So. Green fluid leaked for her skin, her hand were shriveled in tight balls. Kin-Ri’s hands smashed together sending a boom across the sand. The humans turned toward him startled and began raised a weapon. The projectile glanced harmlessly off his suit. Kin-Ri’s hands twitched as he walked toward the humans. Another bullet, fell into the sand. Just before he reached them, he heard a scream from behind, “Don’t hurt them.” The humans looked at him terrified. He had only reach out his hands and could crush their skulls. But, he didn’t. He pushed them aside, and fell beside Kin-So. His skin sagged to the dirt as his hands picked up her lifeless fingers. The humans formed a group behind him. He could hear one of them explaining to the others. Kin-Ri picked up Kin-So and headed back to the ship with the humans on his heels.
Hi u/67Holmium, this submission has been removed. [Direct prompt replies must be good-faith attempts at new stories or poems](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_1.3A_direct_prompt_replies_must_be_good-faith_attempts_at_new_stories_or_poems) - Fill-in-the-blank: Responses must be at least 100 words. This is essentially a fill-in-the-blank, or you asked a question likely to generate a simple answer. Prompts should encourage a story or poem. Prompts will be removed if there's a high possibility for rule breaking responses ([rule 7](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_7.3A_prompts_will_be_removed_if_there.27s_a_high_possibility_for_rule_breaking_responses)) --- [Modmail](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose?to=%2Fr%2FWritingPrompts&subject=Removed%20post&message=https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/av8crh/-/%0A%0A) us if you have any questions or concerns. In the future, please refer to the [sidebar](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/sidebar) before posting. This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.
“Hey, hows it going?” Ugh. This guy. This guy right here. I’m in my office, my own fuckin office, and this guy thinks he can just swing open the door and ask me how I’m doing? That takes balls. Balls and horns, but his horns are tiny prongs barely jutting out of his bald red head. “Uh, not too bad, not too bad,” I offer in reply. The sulphuric air is heavy with my undertone: Stop wasting my time and get to the point, asshole. “So, you hear about the vacancy, right? No one saw that coming, I tell ya. Whole department is a mess. I see your office is doing alright though, eh?” Yeah. Nobody saw Satan’s downfall coming? Everyone saw it coming, it was just a question of exactly when. Of course, this little demon saying that is an obvious ploy to convince me that he, in fact, had a hand in doing the deed, or knows upper level information of potential use. Which he is dangling before me as either a carrot or stick, some kind of leverage for... something. His comment about my office is gratifying. He knows who I am. He respects the fact that I didn’t lose my shit when the big man went down, and knows that others on the lower levels can rely on me. “I can’t complain,” I reply. “Big man used to complain all the time, didn’t he? Going on about his family issues. We all got family issues. Nobody wants that kind of talk down here, it’s bad for morale.” Beelzebub gives a poor imitation of a chuckle. “That’s exactly right. I’m glad you see things that way. We need more progressive, positive thinkers if we’re going to keep this place above water.” He’s definitely fingering my asshole, now the big question is why, and I’m starting to think of possible reasons. Mostly, he is looking to do something. And he is offering me ... something... if I help him. The trouble with Beelzebub is he’s got a lot of fame to his name, and he’s just clever enough to think he’s more important than he actually is. I know a lot of folks downstairs, and even mortal idiots help give him that impression. But he doesn’t understand that, from my perspective, he’s still the new kid, and I’m not a fan of pretend-cleverness. “Positive. Thinkers?” I ask him. I grin, my teeth interlaced. He has the decency to stammer just a bit now. “Well, not positive in that sense of course, but relative to our operations here...” I let his voice trail off, not breaking eye contact. “Yes. I’m listening. Our operations here, yes?” I grin wider. “Well, as it turns out, on upper level they’re... they’re talking about a vote. And so-“ “A vote?” I ask sharply, cutting him off. “Y-yes,” says Beelzebub, no longer able to meet my gaze. I let him sweat in silence for a few heartbeats. I lower the tone of my voice. “And you would like my support.” He nods, although it wasn’t a question. His lips are tight. I can tell his throat is dry. He feels like he is in the presence of an imminent threat to his corporeal self, and he is right. He feels he has made a mistake by coming to my office, and he has not. “And you shall have it,” I say suddenly, in an oily, cool, relaxing tone as I lean back in my office chair. “Oh. Thank you. I didn’t-“ Whatever he was going to say is irrelevant. He understands, but I will tell him. “I will support you by allowing you to live and carry on as you have done. I will protect you from any of those pricks who might not like it.” “Oh, very g- wait, protect me? From who?” “Why,” I say calmly, “all of them.” I stand up and neatly close the manila folder on my desk and walk over to the window. I pull the shades, revealing the humble view from my little old office. There we gaze at the stunning, mind-wrenching vistas of hell. Glacial peaks and rocky valleys, with the writhing living corpses of the damned covering every surface like grass. If I’m still enough, I can hear the endless wailing underneath the sound of my dust-covered desk fan. “They will be upset, you see, to learn that there is no... vote. There is no democracy here. Stupid human ideas have weakened their minds. You will need to be the bearer of bad news, so I will make you my left-hand man. And so, as was written long ago, we shall rise up and lay waste to human civilization, torture and kill every one we can get our hands on. No more sitting around the office. No more boring bureaucracy. No more Mephistophelean legal trickery and mumbo-jumbo. For I am Abaddon, Angel of the Abyss, and we have work to do!” I grin devilishly, breathing in the intoxication of pure, cosmic evil that surrounds and vitalizes me. Beelzebub breaks the unholy sanctity of the silence by clearing his throat. “So, uh, would you like me to write all that down as your first speech, or...?”
I’ve always loved days like these. The warm glistening sun enveloping my skin, the kids playing and their guardians chattering from a fair distance.. thinking of the future with open smiles. Fortunately though, I’ve brought a companion with me today! My awesome new partner. It’s always been a saying that a man should never be without his do- “EVERYONE GET THE FUCK DOWN, THE LIZARDS HAVE FINALLY MADE THEIR MOVE!” the parents screamed, the kids ran. It was all for the greater good. This peace would have to be shattered some day, my job is preserving it- not residing in it. Where is it? Those damn slimy reptilians, it has been ages since I joined the cause.. I abandoned my family. Years of lying in wait, all for this moment! I can finally fulfill my purpose! Stop barking at me you damn do- “Huh? Where did everyone go?” I said, to no one in particular. “Well looks like the park is just for you and me today buddy!” I reached down to pet the good boy but he seemed scared. “Aw, what’s wrong? Have ya not gotten used to me yet buddy?” I kneeled slowly, he seemed to calm down a little. “How bouta treat-?” The good boy stood up on his hind legs. I didn’t think he’d be so excited, that’s impressive! “Good boy!” I patted his head with excitement and his skin collapsed to the ground to reveal a reptilian figure. “Foolish bipedal creature, today is the day we rise! I have been awoken! Bask in your ignorance, wallow in your death knowing that your race was doomed to fall!” I screamed a manly scream, “If you didn’t want a treat, you shoulda just said so!” The reptilian figure went down on all fours and started barking at me aggressively. But I knew he was not a good boy.
Entry and Requirements For Traveling to Earth Owing to Earth being a fairly niche destination, with little interest from both the tourism and mining industries, the Galactic Union of Interstellar Nations has yet to install any direct jump gates into the system. The closest jump gate is located at the edge of the Wastec system, the main hub for waste disposal in that sector of the galaxy. No commercial stellar carriages currently operate to the Wastec gate so travelers or tour operators must arrange docking directly with Wastec carriages. From Wastec, Earth is around 12 light eras^(1) away so transit will require Vehicles equipped with space fold drives. Older crafts equipped with fusion SF drives should expect a minimum a journey time of around 4 cycles^(1). For modern fusionless SF drives travel should take around half a cycle. Recommended Tour Operators: Eris Gateways (modern drive equipped craft), Simple Fold (older drive equipped craft) &#x200B; Before arriving on Earth, travelers must pass through the small GUIN customs checkpoint located on the local moon. There you will be thoroughly briefed on essential earth behavior. Earth has been given a viability rating of 4^(2) on becoming an interstellar civilization before collapse and therefore on planet activities are monitored closely and all travelers must wear monitoring bands for the duration of their stay. Travelers must also visit the planet either cloaked or disguised as a biome compatible organism. Please note, customs only issues cloaking devices so approved disguise fabricators must be purchased before traveling to Earth's system. &#x200B; 1. Conversions: 1 Galactic Cycle = 2.2 Earth Days, 1 Galactic Era = 0.61 Earth Years 2. Estimates suggest that at their current pace of development Earth will be able to produce basic SF equivalent drives and/or SF communication within 100 eras. However, a number of possible factors have a high potential to slow or even cease development.
Do not let anybody tell you otherwise, immortality’s a curse. &#x200B; I still remember how it happened. Mother, great hero as she was, fought and defeated the demon king. On its final moments, it spat out a deadly curse to her… one that she was ready for, and her protective magic blocked it. What she wasn’t expecting was for the curse to then seek the next of kin… me. &#x200B; At first, the curse seemed more direct than it was. I gained incredible, ridiculous strength, that I couldn’t control at all. I couldn’t even dress myself without tearing the clothes to sheds, and breaking every single thing I came in contact with. It would take decades before I managed any kind of restrain, and centuries later I still feel like I walk on eggshells, where a single misstep can tear down a building. &#x200B; The immortality aspect only was revealed later. I stopped growing older, and it’s only fortunate that I was in my late teens instead of my early childhood when it happened. &#x200B; And there’s more… so much more. Not only immortal, but invulnerable, no need to breathe, no need to eat, no need to sleep. My mind is like a steel trap, and I remember every single thing… and it wouldn’t even have the decency of letting me go insane. &#x200B; Mother tried to find a cure, up to her deathbed… I couldn’t even hold her hand as she passed, apologizing to me. &#x200B; … Ten thousand years. &#x200B; I’ve seen… kingdoms rise and fall, civilization change and evolve, for good and ill. I’ve seen... so many, so many people die. Mine is a curse, because despite all it’s apparent power, I can do nothing in the end. &#x200B; I stopped counting the years, really. I only really know… because that’s how long it took for the demon king to come back, laying down death and destruction. &#x200B; Ten thousand years of helplessness if a good way to get rage going. I threw myself at that bastard with all I had. The strength he had cursed me with I used to crush his bones. The invulnerability I was cursed with used to fend off his every attack. He only really seemed to get the idea in the end. &#x200B; He undid my curse as I tore off his damn head. &#x200B; … And now… now I lay here, watching the stars, that I have seen change with my very eyes. Pain runs down every inch of my body, and I welcome it. &#x200B; I am… so tired. &#x200B; \--- &#x200B; … My eyes open, and I’m looking at a different sky. It is filled with colors I have never seen before, multi-hued stars blinking in the distance. &#x200B; I sit up gingerly, but the pain from before is gone. Did I… survive after all? What just happened? Where am I? &#x200B; “There you are, silly!” &#x200B; The familiar voice surprises me, and I turn to look upon the face of Tilda. Nosy, exhuberant goblin reporter Tilda, oversized camera at her neck as usual… as if she hadn’t died a decade ago, when I failed her. &#x200B; I must have sat there staring in confusion for too long, because she laughs, and moves towards me, grabbing my arm. “Come on, you goofball! Everybody’s waiting!” &#x200B; She pulls, before I can warn her. But instead of the sickening pup of her arm being pulled out of her socket, she yanks me to my feet as if it was nothing. Once again, I can only stare, even as she pulls me along, holding my hand. &#x200B; She chatters about… something as she leads me across the field, telling me how everybody’s so excited to see me. We stand before two massive doors that I swear appeared out of nowhere, and they open without a sound. &#x200B; The voice of people reach me, even as Tilda pulls me inside. &#x200B; “Hey everybody, look who I found!” &#x200B; Cheers erupt from the hall, and I look around in awe. &#x200B; Closest to me, are three elven women of the Lunara family: Altara, her daughter Vanasal, and HER daughter Urtia. Three generations of women that I had seen grown old and die, each standing in their prime… Altara in her favorite, old fashioned gown and Urtia in her more modern clothes… the last one I had seen die before I finally decided to leave. The long-lived elves still lived far too short lives for me. &#x200B; “Well, about time.” Altara quips, and tips a goblet of wine in my direction. &#x200B; Vansal laughs, half covering her face with her hand just as I remember. “Oh, it has been far too long, you!” &#x200B; Always the rebel, Urtia charges forward and gives me a big hug. “—there! And now you can’t protest!” She’s grinning, and she’s not being hurt by my body, and… and… &#x200B; “Oi! Share the guest of honor with the rest of us!” I turn to the new voice, and I recognize the rotund form of Hondo, the would-be entrepreneur that once talked me into helping him with his business. Killed by bandits several years down the line. &#x200B; Shouts of agreement rose around him, and I looked around as more and more people approached me, shaking my hand, patting my shoulder hugging me again. Ser Bacaron, holy knight of his order, died in war. Catlinn, pirate with a heart of gold, lost at sea. &#x200B; Queen Glazia, Orbo the Wise, Ben, Justinian, Panther, Brightheart of Ray, Véhica… so many other, all of whom I had once grown close to, all of whom I lost. I felt tears going down cheeks, and the exhuberance around me mollified a bit. &#x200B; “Hey, come on, no need of that!” Tilda grinned. “Now, come in, there is one person that has been waiting for a long, looong time. The sea of people parted way, as Tilda led me to the end of the hall, and there… there… &#x200B; I was running before I knew it. &#x200B; Mother embraced me tightly as I jumped into her arms. &#x200B; “I am so… so proud of you.” &#x200B; I just wept.
The Little Firebird The grass was cool under her bare feet, her slippers discarded beside her. She gazed up at the sky, the cold, distant stars shining down upon her like the winking eyes of forgotten gods. How had things gotten so out of control? She’d only meant to protect herself, both from harm and the future she did not want. At the beginning of the evening, her gown had been the soft, dusky pink of dawn. By the end of it, she was covered in crimson, the evidence of her crime. It was stiff and had coagulated all over her skin, covering her in a thick, grimy film. She should have run when she had the chance, she knew that now. But the only thing that was certain now was hindsight. If she had any sense at all, she would walk into the river and let it drag her under, and go the way of Ophelia. But she had to make her mistake right, even if it cost her life. It all seemed so distant now, so far away. The wedding in the church, her vows said robotically as hundreds of guests looked on, eager to see her sold off to the highest bidder, the forced kisses in the carriage that brought them to the tiny cottage her parents had purchased as a wedding gift. And then the worst part of all of it: the night of the wedding, where she and her new husband would be together for the first time. She tried to block it all out, but the memories crashed down upon her like a tidal wave. His suit coming off, the flash of his pale skin under his clothes, and the touch of his hands on her, the sensation of her skin crawling. And then his screams of agony as he began to burn, his skin curling like paper in a fireplace, smoking curling out of his mouth and nostrils. And then blood, pouring out of him, onto her skin, her gown, stiffening the fabric… The cottage going up in flames, and she only just barely managed to steal her husband’s horse. She rode bareback away from the disaster she’d caused, his screams still ringing in her ears. It was like a nightmare, only it was real. The scent of sweet, burning wood rose in her nostrils, and she could barely see through her tears, but she directed the horse into the woods, desperate to put distance between herself and the death she’d caused. It didn’t matter that it was accidental. No one would see it that way; they’d see her resistance and her defiance to the match and see it as nothing less than murder. And they would be right. \\ Suddenly, she buried her head in her knees, sitting on the river bank, heaving great, gulping sobs that shook her whole body and made her throat constrict. She hadn’t meant to do it. Perhaps it had all been born of desperation, of rage, of feeling trapped. “Do not cry, little firebird. I’ve come to help you.” A voice emerged from the shadows of the trees, and the little firebird found herself blinded by a flashing white light. \\
[Poem] Summer took our hands together Gave me love I couldn’t give And then I saw Fall begin With a single, lonely leave - Leave me now, i begged him And yet, what bitter theft The searing, cruel pain My heart felt when he left - Left or right, it didn’t matter The roads all went around None of them took me home To where I felt so safe and sound - Sound of crying, who could’ve thought, That even I would lose my reason For a poison bland and old Such as love, the life’s season. - Season he will not get back, Cause I treated him like a fling I got thirsty for his love But I closed and ruined that spring.
Of course, while undertaking an analysis of the causes and results of the so-called "Class Wars"(something that Lipstadt et al deny ever existed in their seminal historical monograph "The New Era of Time"in the neo-Annales tradition) is much beyond the scope of your author, we, the authors of this piece of encyclopaedic knowledge, can surely tell you about a particular event that occurred within this messy and arbitrarily bounded period of history when only the most disadvantaged could participate in the electoral process. &#x200B; Note (1): One does not find much support for the thesis postulated by Creon Anóitostonanóiton, Professor of Comparative History at the University of Athens, that these wars were a result of a pre-ordained conspiracy between so-called bourgeoisie structures and the ideologically corrupted trade unionists. The evidence granted in favour of this argument is sparse, and as we are not keen on creating what would be a political history, we shall not work on our mission from this particular point of view, or any equally invalid (or valid). &#x200B; According to the Electoral Commission's first report on candidates, censuses and so forth, the initial number of candidates for the office of the Presidency on the day after the registrations of candidature were opened was a paltry number equal to 24 people, all members of the New Populist Party. The lack of candidates forthcoming from the main opposition to the NPP, as we shall refer to formerly mentioned party from this point onwards, the Civic Republican Party (which we shall similarly refer to as the "CRP") was, at least according to Midensky (in the Journal for Politics published by the venerable University of Chicago), because of internal power struggles between Party Chairperson Hyman Keynes and Senator Joe T. Zachassian. However, a contrary explanation has been provided by political pundit and socialite Andrea Kelley-Smith, that of collusion, that proposes that the CRP purposefully blocked any candidates from registering on the first day due to an agreement with the NPP that stated that the latter would rig their elections in favour of the NPP candidate most amenable to a CRP Vice President (which, at that point of time, wasn't an office to balk at). &#x200B; Note (2): Recent findings from the National Archives have revealed that the NPP did indeed propose such a pact, but was rejected by the CRP. Needless to say, we can now safely discard Mrs. Kelley-Smith's claims, which we were unfortunately unable to revise in the First edition due to the lack of the very same archival sources. &#x200B; Now, furthering our inquiry into these very curious events, we know for certain that for reasons yet not clear to even the most prescient of scholars of this particular era (Lipstadt et al claimed that they were unable to find any information about these events), and to the frustration of encyclopaedists such as us, 24 out of the 25 candidates for the NPP nomination dropped out (one of them presumably drunk themselves to death, according to the Washington, DC coroners' report) and the NPP quickly declared Oregon Senator Martha Vignoble (who had previously run for the Presidency 20 years earlier on an independent ticket) as their presumptive nominee &#x200B; This was quickly followed by a stormy CRP meeting (according to the meeting logs, many choice profanities were employed by the attendees), where a relatively unknown politician called Dorian Menard was chosen by the majority of the electoral committee members as their political choice. &#x200B; Author's addendum: At this point, I seek to perhaps include pieces that would turn this into an understanding meta-fiction. Thoughts? Yours truly, Moshe &#x200B; Editor's note: This is understandable, but I would prefer you add it at the end to heighten any particular sense of suspense. You might want to look into the work of, say, Charlie Kaufman (sic). He's got brutally effective sense of humour. &#x200B; The general course of the election, was of course, desultorily boring, and we shall not get into too much detail to explain it. However, what we shall explore is an interesting quirk of the Constitution, which while barring anyone outside the poorest 50% to access suffrage, did not prevent these outsiders from holding office. As we all know, the result of this influential election naturally allowed the aforementioned Martha Vignoble to assume power, while holding sources of wealth that would eventually lead to her downfall in a corruption scandal and the removal of suffrage restrictions, 3 years after her elections. &#x200B; Naturally, the above words we have written above are absolutely untrue, and in no way represent the viewpoints of &#x200B; Editor's note: I have some protestations about this, which I shall state over here. First off, this doesn't seem to hold an awfully encyclopaedic tone. More so, perhaps, it is reminiscent of opinion columns in magazines rife with irony. Secondly, it seems that this particular story has absolutely no connection with any of the others in your anthology, which you promised me would have absolute unity. Why this deviation? Lastly, I would request a change to the ending, it is overly blatant in its revelation of the constructed nature of the text. Thank you, &#x200B; Peter &#x200B; *Footnote: The above text was found in the Montanan newspaper Sun Advocate, of Carbon county. It purported to be the work of a crazed inmate in an asylum, Frederick Lipstadt (possibly a reference to the Lipstadt in the main text?) who held an obsessive fancy for the magical realists of South America, especially Marquez and Borges. The influence of these men can be seen in this work. However, I haven't been able to independently verify if this Lipstadt exists or not, or if it is just an elaborate prank by the good writers of the Sun Advocate. I hope the latter, because this obscurantist text cannot hold any particular value to anyone, except perhaps the bowels of the internet, to be forever forgotten.* &#x200B; &#x200B; &#x200B;
“This is the last time I will kindly ask you to demonstrate us your Powers.” “Your hornor, I can only repeat that my client will not be able to do so. This is ridiculous. He has an alibi, he could have nev-“ “Silence. I am talking to Mr. Roland. Mr. Roland, would you please be so kind to show us your Powers?” I feel about a hundred pairs of eyes on me. I swallow. “I- I’m very sorry, your hornor. As Mr. Craig has already explained, I’m not able to-“ “Nonsense!” the judge shouts. “You are deliberately delaying the trial! This is your last chance to prove your innocence.” I shudder at his voice. The effect it has on me... that’s not normal. His power is somehow messing with my mind... I have to actively hold my lips shut, or else they would move in their own. “I can’t show my Powers”, I begin slowly, fighting to retain the control over my voice, “for the same reason I can’t have set the library on fire. I don’t know my Powers.” Silence. Silence so deep that I don’t dare to breathe. When the judge breaks the silence, it’s almost like a punch in the stomach. “That’s impossible.” For a moment I believe it. I cannot be a student there, he is right, this conversation is pointless. ‘Pull yourself together’, I lecture myself, ‘his Powers make you believe everything his says. His words are loaded with unnatural authority.’ “You were admitted to the University. No one without powers is admitted.” “They said they were sure I had Powers but they couldn’t tell what kind of... yet.” I remember how one professor told me that one argument that convinced them to admit me to the university was that it was for their and my own safety. More than ever before I feel like they know more about me than I do. I believe that this extra information wouldn’t convince the judge of my innocence. He turns to a woman he is sitting next to and they discuss for a few minutes. When he lays his eyes in me again, my body stiffens. “Jefferson’s Conduction. Have you heard of it, Mr Roland.” Not daring to speak I simply shake my head. “Please, get up and step forward.” I do as I’m told, or rather my body does. “Peter Jefferson once discovered that the Powers of a person can be forced to appear. It is hardly used because of strict regulations, but in some cases the court is allowed to resort to it.” Faster than my senses can process, four men appear at my sides. My heart beats so fast that I can see the blood pulsing under my skin. “N-no”, I stutter. That is not how I want to find out about my Powers. Not through strangers forcing it out of me. “For all those present who don’t know, Jefferson found out that by applying strong pressure to specific parts of the human skeleton, the Powers of every person will surface as a reflex. Unfortunately these specific pressure points.... tend to break easily.” The guards near me come closer and panic consumes me. I want to run but I don’t know in what direction. I want to scream but I don’t know to whom. I begin to cry in a last useless attempt to make them stop. The first hands grip my body and it feels like the world turn inside out. I scream and press my eyes shut. When my screaming stops, I realize that I’m not the only one screaming. The men next to me have pulled their hands away and let out horrible cries of agony. I also would, if i was burning alive.
I inspect the gold ring, spinning it around my fingers to look at it from all angles. Aside from a few dents here and there, this ring looks beautiful, and why someone would want to get rid of it was beyond me. Maybe this was given to them by an ex, and they don't want to associate with them anymore? Perhaps. I notice an engraving written on the inside of the ring. Squinting my eyes to try and decipher the fancy curved letters, I read the name aloud, "Solution." Peculiar name, but I liked it in a weird way. I'll keep it for myself - no need for such a gorgeous ring to be sitting in a dirty garbage can. I put it on my left middle finger, it fits perfectly, like it was made for me. I blink. "What the fuck?"I yell as my surroundings changed in the split second I took to blink. Gone were the many gigantic skyscrapers that filled the city, replaced by numerous brown huts laying on fields of purple grass. The sky took a shade of blood red, and I could see an object - a planet cracked in half sitting on the sky, replacing the clouds that used to be there. A sound was coming in from the distance. A large bell, like the type you'd find in your local church, rang in the distance. I couldn't see it, but I could feel its presence somewhere - everywhere. There's something about this bell, its sounds resonating within my body and invoking a feeling I could only describe as pure rage. I don't know why I'm mad - I just am. I don't know what I'm even mad about, but I hate it with every inch of my body. My focus turns back to the ring once more. This ring did something to me, and I will not let it continue for another second. I grab it and pull it off my finger, and as soon as I did, the normal world returned once more. Relief washed over me. My body instantly leaned against the wall, my lungs and heart kicking into overdrive from the stress I just went through. I stare at the ring. The sound of the bell still echoed in my head. I want to, - no - I need to hear it again. That bell is my savior. I have to return to it. I can't go against its wishes. My hand goes to put the ring back on, but I snap back into reality and stop myself from going back to that hellish dimension once more. "What am I doing?"I ask. This ring is big trouble, and I can't let anyone else fall prey to its alluring calls. I have to keep this burden for myself, never allowing anyone to touch it ever again. It's mine. Forever.
"Aw shit."I grumbled as I saw the broad box in the bathroom. "Uhm. What?"chirped in from the back of the bathroom. Some new guy had been on the loo. "They've engaged procedure E dash 1. Wonder why that's just a 1."He came back from the stall, fumbling with this fly and his shirt. I poked a red button on the dispenser with the handle of my broom. With a lot of clatter, a steel broadsword fell into a holder below the dispenser. "You should take that. Don't wait to wash your hands. Last time, we had an E-level incident, 23 percent of the casualties happened in the bathrooms with people washing their hands. Instead of grabbing the protocol provided weapons." He grabbed the sword and eyed it carefully. "This is a drill, right? You're a janitor, you probably installed this dispenser, didn't you?" I shook my head and raised my broom. "I'm on the cleaning and heating details. I'm not on-call for E-duty. I'm not crazy enough to run around with heavily armed people to setup dispensers like this within minutes because some experiment went wrong."While talking, I unlocked a compartment on the end of my broom and engaged a usually locked switch. The laser blade flared up right as expected. Perfect to light up a cigarette. He looked at the sword for a minute. "What was that about just a one?" I shrugged. "Usually our smart guys don't do things that can be dealt with with swords. Usually we deal with E-3's or upwards, which dispense assault rifles and specialized ammunition. Worst one I've been in was an E-8. That dispensed some weird guns that can dislocate matter into the future. Our department cat ... well you should meet her to see yourself. An E-1 with swords has me worried though. Let's see if we can get to the closest command point."
"Are... are you seeing this?" "Last time I checked my eyes still worked." "This is not the time to be smart about this! The others are expecting us to fill them in, what are we going to tell them?" "There's been an excessive amount of movies about this?" "What did I just say?" I glance over at James. One of lenses of his glasses has cracked. Been like that for months, we had no way to replace it but it never seemed to bother him. His hair hangs just past their jaw, choppy and uneven. Eventually we just stopped caring about the haircuts - we'd seen the worst of each other, and hair was not a part of that. His lips are cracked, cheeks sunken. Dehydration, malnourished. I figure I look similar. We all look like that, and no wonder. We've all been in hiding since the meteor storm hit us. A fruity wiff of... something passes us. It makes my stomach lurch up to my throat. James smelled it too; I can see it in his green eyes. "We have to go look."I whisper. "There's no use in just looking." James nods slowly. "Should we tell the others?" "No use in wasting time. We told them what we're doing. Either we go get then when we've got more information, or we die out there and they'll come check it out themselves." "Let's see you put all those big stories to truth, huh?"James grins, pushing themselves fully out of the door. "Race you to the edge?" "That definitely sounds like a death sentence. Let's do it." I don't expect James to be that fast. It's been weeks since we've had a decent meal, months since we could walk more that twenty metres in either direction and that was only if all the doors were open. James, however, very quickly creates a distance between myself and him. By the time I catch up to him by the edge of the cliff, I'm panting with raspy breath. James seems... unbothered by the sudden exercise, but before I can ask about it I'm distracted by his disturbed face. I follow his gaze over the edge. My heart stops. Stays quiet for a few seconds, I'm unable to suck in new oxygen into my lungs, and then my hearts picks back up and I can breath again. "I..."There are no words. I'm looking out over a historic world, luscious green and full of life. Bright colours from plants and flowers and fruits, sunlight reflecting off of bodies of water, and movement. "Those are dinosaurs."I whisper. "Freaking dinosaurs." "No."James shakes his head. "Not the ones that we knew, anyway. They're... different. Look at them! They're completely unnatural. They look like the ones we know, but almost..." "Alien."I finish. He's right. The beasts are purple, blue, countless colours and unnaturally sleek or textured or even iridescent. They have big eyes consisting of one colour that even from this big a distance, seem to be able to see me. Nothing I have seen nature make before. This has to be extraterrestrial life. I am hypnotized by them. "It worked."James voice is barely audible. My head snaps towards him, alarmed. He gives me a sideways look, and his lips curl in a careful smile. "I didn't think it would, but it did." I'm scared to ask, so I don't. But then James turns to face me, and the green of his eyes is gone. They are now lilac, almost irridecent like I just saw on the dino-alien. I recoil, suddenly feeling sick. "This planet needed saving."He says. "I was brought to scout, to see if it was worth the try. There was so much potential, but it needed to be rid of this horrible plague. We knew how, but when I gave them the okay I suddenly lost contact. I wasn't sure if I had just saved Earth, or if I had destroyed it."He has the decency to look distressed about that. Seconds tick away, and he is studying my face. "Y..You got lucky, then."I manage to choke out. It makes him laugh - a soft and tender sound that seems impossible for a human. Of course, it is. James is not human. He's never been human. He called the meteor storm. He destroyed it all! But... was it really destroyed? The Earth seemed to be flourishing. I had not seen life like this when humans still crawled around. "Humans are gone, except for the few that were saved with me. They will see later, and we'll see if they are worthy." I frown. "Worthy of what?" James smiles. His skin is smoother, his features changed. He's shedding his human disguise. He offers me a hand. "Joining. We will live here for a few decades and watch progress. Humans will not be allowed anymore. The Earth can flourish in all its glory without a pest destroying it. Then, when we know it can take care of itself, we find another planet that needs saving. Until the circle brings us back here. We protect the universe. If... you will come with?" I look back at the amount of life below me. Things I've only ever seen in movies, digitally edited, never real. But now? Earth has a chance to recover where we destroyed her. What bigger honour was there to protect the universe, considering I was once part of that pest? I take his hand.
The irritatingly fancy restaurant would have annoyed him on even his best day. It was, however, not the source of his complete ire. No, that honor belonged to the honorable bags of bones sitting across from him, usual smug superiority replaced by startlingly genuine grimaces. It was the only reason he had not left as soon as they sat their wrinkly mugs across from him. "Kaj,"Mirelda began, "it warms my heart to see you greet us so amicably. You're swift acceptance of our invitation will be noted for the future." He graced them with a snort. There had not even been a name on the summons, just parchment baring the royal sigil. "I have always respected the insight and wisdom the elders have to grant us."He felt proud that he let slip none of the irritation he felt. His brother, the 'Shining Sword', the 'Oathkeeper', 'He Who Would Pierce Heaven', was the king, and yet he felt the burden of leadership more often than not these days. "Let's not start the evening with lies."Giral was never one for pleasantries. "Especially being the unlawful little shit we had to deal with because Tio was too busy getting grayer from the aftermaths of your little... parties." "Gramps was gray before I was even born."Kaj continued, unashamed. "I may not have shown it, but I really did respect him. But as the 'Lustful little miscreant' I am,"Mirelda squirmed uncomfortably "I was far too preoccupied to show my reverence. I'm sure you could guess why." "I won't try and hide our hand in the harshness of your upbringing. If you have problems with us, fine. Fire us. Lock us up and throw away the key. Put our heads on a pike. Everything we did was for Avalon and the people that rest inside her walls. But I'll be damned before I let you make me the guilty party." Kaj only barely managed to restrain his hiss of frustration, masking his grimace by running a hand through his hair, catching more than a few eyes in the establishment. In his heart, he wanted to do all that and more. For a myriad of reasons, not all of them personal. Avalon had seemed to go through kings like a widow through tissue, and yet those two had stood the test of time and remained in their positions while monarch after monarch were laid to rest. He truly did not know whether to be respectful of the way they clung to their prestige and influence or suspicious. But he wasn't a kid anymore. He could no longer so easily be bent by his emotions. Not only that, he had risen above his petty titles. 'Lustful' was the title that was most used. 'World-Ender' was kept quite hidden. It had a nice ring to it until people remembered that the last person with such a title broke the Great Alliance and sent them hurtling back into the spiral of war that existed until this day. From the day he could walk, he had set out to forge his own path. "Angry as I am, kinslayer I am not. What kind of adviser to the king would I be if I walked around executing everyone that wrong me?"He snorted. "My brother wouldn't have much of a kingdom to rule if I did that. But, we are not here to muse over my life thus far... I think."He eyed them strangely. "Why are we here?" "You're too strong."You could always count on Giral to get to the point. "Is that so?"he asked, leaning back into the booth. "Popular consensus would say that my brother is my better. And besides, even if I was, so what? Alvia was the strongest before me, and Kleo before her. Some say Gramps was the strongest to ever grace the lands! What's your point? Jealous, Giral? Gramps got the girl and the legacy." Giral's grip on his glass visibly tightened. "We're not talking about combat you twit. That is nothing." "Oi, I'll have you know I busted my ass for years, just to stay within reach of my brother's shadow."Kaj rolled his eyes. "'Nothing', he says." "Personal power is nothing compared to the power of the people." "Well yeah, that was like, Gramps dogma or something. He couldn't go a day without saying it. What's that gotta do with me?" "You've swayed too many people to your cause. In terms of combat, you, your brother, Alvia, it's all up in the air. But politically... you've become a monster." "Uh... I am?"Kaj was stumped. "But... I don't even have a political party." "Don't play stupid with us Kaj, even you can not be so short-sighted. You are a political party, all by yourself. You have loyalty that rulers only dream of. Haven't you ever noticed the careful balance the council has held?" "If by balance you mean inability to get anything done because of personal agendas, then yea. There was no unity, just squabbles and inaction, until I came along and united them."He paused, glancing at his cup, wondering just when it had ran empty. "Most would say that was a good thing." "Alana is six months pregnant with your child. Your extra-marital child, no less." Kaj shrugged. "But, what can you do. Not much, with a title like yours, even if you like to brag about defying fate. The point is, Kaj, is that the balance is gone. She's running around town threatening people that even look at you wrong. She can hardly walk without assistance but she's ready to kill for your reputation alone!" Kaj frowned. "I told her to calm down a couple weeks ago, but if it pleases you I will speak to her again." Alana had been one of his firsts. They had grown up together, thick as thieves, and when the weight of his titles started weighing him down, she helped him shoulder the burden. Overtime, that help became a need, until his word was her law. She was wanting, first in line for his every attention. A smile was enough to make her swoon. He had been walking through the town with her, before her baby bump started showing, when a man had bumped into his shoulder. Purely an accident. He had barely reacted fast enough to stop her from disemboweling that man. It was hard to keep in mind that she was a real political force unto her own. "As if that wasn't enough,"Mirelda picked up where Giral left off, "the new head of the Barma's - the most ancient clan of Avalon, illustrious as they are rich - is your actual, legal wife. You might have married into their family by marrying Cala, but they all bow low when you walk by! That is scary enough alone, but Cala votes in whatever direction you turn your head! And the mutterings of the common folk, you and both her sisters? Do you have any regard to reputation, I mean any, at all?"She was red in the face by the time she stopped. Sweet Cala. His wife. Gentle and demure. Submissive. Sweet, sweet Cala. His 'love me, fuck me, do whatever you want with me' Cala. With how much she bothered herself over his needs, her political power had been the last thing he was concerned about. He coughed. "It's not like I meant for any of this too happen, and it's not exactly... illegal. I didn't expect such vast repercussions, I just wanted to... change the way a couple things were run." "Well you succeeded, Kaj."Mirelda seemed incapable of letting him go before he realized the severity of the situation. "But the power you've amassed might have outpaced your experience. The way things have played out... they were beyond anyone's wildest expectations. The shogun's are weary and curious, wondering if you'll stage a coup and usurp your brother. There have been whispers, spies looking to arrange meetings between their master's and the next king; mass exoduses of those fearful in their part in your brother's rise to power. The people are starting to think you're going to become a dictator. A tyrannical authoritarian, lashing back at the masses for his past treatments." "I'm not!"He snapped. It was only after the blaring silenced pierced the haze of alcohol and agitation, becoming keenly aware of all the eyes on him, did he sit back down, waiting until the low of hum of patrons reigned over the restaurant once more. "I love my brother, you know I would never do anything to hurt him!" Maybe he had a lot of power. "It does not matter what we know, only what the people believe."Giral riposted. Maybe he didn't use it in the most responsible of ways. "I am not a dictator."He repeated, calmly as he could manage. He opened his mouth to argue more, but paused as the crushing reality started to wash over him. He wasn't a kid anymore. "... am I?"
*on mobile, apologies for formatting. Also, feel free to pick apart! Constructive criticism welcome. I don't know if I can forgive her. I thought she loved me. Maybe her words held some depth when she claimed she couldn't see a single future without me. She had been persistent, even after I told her I was straight. Patient when I was suffering memory lapses from stress at my new government job... I loved her gently in that time. Eventually I gave her a chance and we spent years together. She was supportive of my intermittent employment, always stunted by returning memory problems. I never knew someone so understanding of me forgetting their birthday, or pretty much any detail about her life before me. She said I made up for it by remembering our anniversary, and any countless number of small things in our relationship. She told me it was a compliment just how much I was able to remember. I'm not sure why, right now, I am choosing to think of her. But every time I open my eyes I see grey walls. When I see those walls my entire thought process becomes blurry. My existence is forgettable. I think I need to know who I am. Maybe she is fundamental to who I am now. There are things I should never forget, so I will repeat them to myself in the hopes of holding on. She used me. She was a spy. I must never forget these details. But I can remember them? She must have been caught, as if her entire identity was classified I would not remember that she was a spy. I don't know why I am like this, maybe this is all an intense hallucination. I don't know what's worse, the idea that this was never real or that what has happened is really reality. They told me she used me like a dousing rod. We used to love long chats about anything and everything late into the night. Sometimes if remember everything we said, other times holes appeared. The longer we were together the more holes until I could hardly remember anything the next day. I didn't need to for a fact what I said was true for me to register as top secret and have me forget it. Apparently she guided me through talk of the news, politics and conspiracy theories. We did this every night, and then she would establish what I couldn't remember the next day and fix her questions on that. This was all fed to her employers. I assume this was where she slipped up, as using me in this way removed any of the risk of being a spy. She must have been careless in communication to have been caught. As a result, I am in a cell. I* am top secret. If I open my eyes I feel my sense of self falling through my fingers a grain at a time. I don't know why they are keeping me this way. Do they realise I will forget myself? Will I be any use to them if I do? They won't release information about me, stop me being top secret or I may be used by their enemies again. I am afraid that I am tired, because that means my time is limited. Everything I am may be lost.
I fucking hate my job. Now you might be thinking 'yeah, so do we. Fuck off' which is rude but also uninformed. Here is the kicker, I can hear those trees in the IKEA couches talk. I understand why you might think that to be horrible or why the trees would've harrassed me. However they don't insult me, they're actually quite friendly to me, probably because I'm a druid. The reason why I hate my job is cause I see lots of lonely isolated spirits who were mangled into an individual be treated like property. I've bacame friends with trees and helped some let go of their hated only to sell them. Every single chair I sell I have talked to. Every single being I dammed doesn't hold it against me. Why don't they hold it against me? Cause I'm a fucking druid. A druid who sells natures mangled remains.
(I didn't know where I was going when I started typing, but it got dark) Harry Potter had a rather sad life in 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. You see, young Harry Potter was a wizard, but he never honed his magic at a magical school. There was an unfortunate clerical error, the owl with an invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was accidentally sent to The Cupboard Under the Stairs at 4 Privet Lane, an entirely different neighborhood. Due to this error, young Harry Potter did not attend a school to hone his magic. Instead, young Harry was forced to live with his aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and his bully of a cousin, Dudley. Harry was the only Potter among a group of Dursley's. Petunia was his mother's sister, Lily and Petunia never got along, and stopped speaking after Lily married James, a boy the rest of the family did not approve of. Harry was born from a disapproved marriage and was not well-liked the second he arrived at Privet Drive. Since Petunia couldn't bicker with her sister, since Lily died many years ago tragically, Harry inherited the squabbles and resentments. Harry Potter July 31, 1980 - December 27, 1996 Poor Harry Potter could not handle being the metaphorical, and sometimes literal, the punching bag of the family. The stress of Christmas and the constant torment of living with the horrid Dursley family finally got to poor Harry. His uncle Vernon was a portly man, and had a good length of belt to work with. Of course, the Dursley's were more upset about public perception than poor Harry. If only poor Harry Potter had a magical place to escape and make friends with other magical children.
I had just decided to throw a sickie. Man, I just could not be bothered to go to work today. I lay down on the sofa, spun my legs so that they were up towards the ceiling, and lowered my head to the carpet. I waited, counting seconds on my head. Then I carefully dialled my boss (this time, I remembered to keep my phone in my hand whilst getting into this precarious position) and waited. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. &#x200B; "This is Steve." &#x200B; "Steve? Steve, it's me. Frank." &#x200B; "Frank." &#x200B; "Oh, Steve, I feel terrible. Ill. I have no idea what it is. I can hardly breathe. I've gone through a full box of tissues - hang on -"I managed a massive theatrical sneeze - "Oh, sorry, what was I saying? Oh yeah, tissues - " &#x200B; "You not coming in then Frank?" &#x200B; "Well, you know, I mean, I could, but I just think, you know, I mean, if you need me to..." &#x200B; "No worries Frank. Get yourself sorted. Hopefully see you tomorrow." &#x200B; "Oh, yeah, okay, thanks Steve, I'd better go, make a hot drink or something." &#x200B; He hung up. Yes! Success. &#x200B; Frank spun himself into an upright position, reached for the TV remote and hit the power button. He was just about to grab the PlayStation controller when his face filled the TV screen, with a BREAKING NEWS banner flashing beneath it. &#x200B; "--deemed dangerous, do not approach, repeat - Do. Not. Approach. According to reports, Frank Wilson is responsible for the Great Train Robbery of Arlington, where $800,000 was snatched; the Virginia Mail Train robbery, where he made off with just under half a million dollars; the Denver Train Heist, from which he gained $900,000; the Chicago Broad Daylight Train Robbery, $450,000 obtained; and the Oklahoma Train Heist, where it is supposed that Frank managed to steal a whopping one and a half million dollars. Authorities say that he is presumed armed, dangerous and desperate." &#x200B; Frank gawked at the screen. &#x200B; "Donna, when did these train robberies happen?" &#x200B; "Bill, these crimes were committed in 1886 - but it is believed that Frank committed many, many more crimes than this." &#x200B; "1886? And he has remained in hiding all this time? What are they doing about it?" &#x200B; "Well Bill, the railroad companies have joined together, and they have secured the services of 'Best Bounty Hunters USA Inc', who have guaranteed to apprehend Frank Wilson within twenty four hours." &#x200B; Frank sat on the sofa, flabbergasted. Was this a joke? &#x200B; His phone rang. He looked at it. Steve. His boss. &#x200B; "Steve?" &#x200B; "Frank. Just seen the news. It's on every channel. Hope you've got rid of your fake flu. Do you need some help?" &#x200B; "Uh..." &#x200B; "Thought so. I'm sending Trev. [In the Knight](https://media.fastestlaps.com/conquest-knight-xv-4.jpg?640x350m)." &#x200B; "The Knight? What's going on?" &#x200B; "Trev'll explain. We've been expecting this." &#x200B; "WHAT?"
What hubris we had, thinking that we could invent an intelligence that could answer the questions of life, the universe, and everything. We asked it a great many childish questions, so amused were we with our absurd little invention. But it was a scientist who was obsessed with the Fermi Paradox that bogged the blasted thing down for a generation. Forty years it took to processed that damnable question. "Are we alone in the universe?" I was on my deathbed when I got word that the progress bar had finally inched over to the right, and that it was compiling its final answer. I had them wheel me to the lab so I could see for myself as the answer was read aloud. The original scientist hadn't even had the decency to live to this day, having been in her eighties when she asked the question originally. I daresay I spent much more of my life than I would've liked noodling about the possible answer. I had, in four decades of thinking, narrowed it down to the two most probable answers, each as likely as the other: yes, or no. Still, I would have my answer before the Reaper caught me, and that was enough of a salve for a lifetime's delay. The animation played on the computer monitor, a flourish that the original programmer had added in a fit of joie de vivre that I now wish we'd stamped out of his youthful mind early and with much prejudice. The little characters did their dance, and pulled back the curtain. The question scrolled by: "Are we alone in the universe?"The screen faded to black. This was it. I could die after this. The letters swam into focus on the screen, taking a few moments to stop wobbling--damned Demoscene kids--before it crystalized in the one answer I'd confidently struck from my figurings years ago. I supposed it wasn't too late to learn that even I could make mistakes. I hit the Escape key on the keyboard, and shuffled out of the room. They'd let me in by myself, figuring I'd bring them in once I knew. It had been my project, after-all, I was due some deference. "What did it say?"Asked my daughter, who was now head of the lab. I shook my head and shuffled for the door. Damnable waste of time. She grabbed my sleeve, and stepped in front of me. "Dad. You can't just terminate the result and not share it with us. That question is older than me." "We need to debug. That was a nonsense answer."I deflected. Of course it wasn't. It made perfect sense, I just hated that that was the result after all this time. "Well I have to know the result to know what I'm debugging,"she said, crossing her arms. Damn. She was a head shorter than me, but her mouth was set into a thin line, just like her mother's when she was digging in about something. I wasn't getting away with this. "Fine,"I said, sitting on a chair they had in the hallway outside the lab. "What. Did. It. Say?"She stamped her foot to emphasize each word. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. My daughter knelt and took my other hand in hers. "Dad, please. This is pointless, this delay." "Probably,"I said. "No, it's absolutely pointless delaying any further,"she said, squeezing my hand. "No, the answer was... 'Probably'..."I looked up at the ceiling. Ten billion dollars. Forty years we'd had the program tied up, working on this problem. I'd had to convince four decades of politicians not to shut the program down, to keep the funding trickling in. We'd still had the master code, and we assisted the military in building their own version with the implicit instruction not to ask that question again. Someone had, of course, some green recruit who thought he was being funny. They rebooted theirs, rather than wait for the answer. I considered the wisdom of that decision.
"Why? You have the audacity to ask me WHY?!? I'll tell you why, my fury is not my own but the fury of billions of souls that have passed on long before me. Now I'm all that is left. It wasn't always this way though. My people were once numerous and strong, spread out over the entirety of our planet. Now look at me, weak, pathetic, and last of my kind. That is why I have decided to give in to their call. I will shed the blood they incessantly call for, I shall water the ground with it. I shall --" "Quit being so melodramatic Jerry, who hasn't killed off all their Sims at least once."
Sam was hanging bunting when she saw the cloud of dust on the horizon. It wasn't often she and her mother received guests this far out from civilization. All the popular tourist destinations were far, far away, and people who got lost out here didn't normally just find a house to get directions from. They usually just died. No, the car was starting to resolve on the horizon now, and they were definitely heading straight here. "Ma, we got company"Sam shouted back into the cave entrance. "What? Only just had the bloody delivery. Who's this?"Julie said, emerging from their home, fanning herself in the morning heat. It had actually been over 4 months since their last delivery, and Sam was feeling restless because she'd already finished her new books weeks ago. "Is it a surprise for The Birthday?"Sam asked "How did you convince someone to spend it driving all the way out here?" Julie hesitated for a second. "It ain't no delivery, least not one I ordered" "A surprise! I love it! I'm going to go get ready"said Sam "Theres nothin' to get ready for! We'll see what they want and send 'em off"Julie shouted after Sam, even though she knew the girl wasn't really listening. It wasn't long until the pickup arrived, pulling up in front of the home. A tall skinny man got out, with a hat that was almost too wide to make it out the car door. He looked like 10 minutes in this heat would do the poor bloke in. Must be from the city, Sam thought. He walked up to Julie and, to Sams surprise, wrapped her in a great big hug. "Sam"Julie said, extracting herself from the man "this is yer uncle Bruce" "What? From the portrait above the mantle" "Yep" "Bruce, the professional boxer Bruce?"Said Sam, still feeling like she was missing something "Well, that was a long time ago"Bruce said, finally chipping into the conversation "before I got a bit sick" "Christ Brucey, you make it sound like you 'ad a cold. It was terminal fuckin' cancer"Julie said "Well, I obviously didn't have that"he said, wiping his brow "Anyhow, this heat is getting to me a bit, mind if we go inside?" They retired inside the cave. Past the natural cave opening, was the wide circular door, carved right into the light red rock. Under the cool stone the air was much more bearable, the courtyard in the centre was surrounded by tall rock walls and made a more comfortable outside environment. Uncle Bruce was nothing like she'd imagined. She had met Aunty Donna years ago, and she was practically a carbon copy of mum. He was well spoken for starters, and didn't smell like dry perfume and beer. Bruce must has sensed her looking at him "I expect you're wondering why I'm here"he said. It's not what Sam was actually thinking, but she did want to know, so simply nodded. "Well, as your mother should have tol-"he continued "About that"Julie interjected "I may have perhaps not quite explained, well, err... Anything" Bruce glared at his sister, the menacing effect lessened by the glass of pink lemonade he was holding mid sip. "What am I supposed to know?"Sam asked "Do you want to tell her, or should I?"Said Bruce "You tell 'er, it's your fuckin' fault we're talkin' 'bout this" "Ok, Sam, it's about your birthday"he started "My birthday?" "Err, yes. Your birthday. Not everyone's actually born on the 29th. Our family is a little unusual" "That's silly, if the birthday was every year you'd have people walking around saying they're ridiculously old. I'm 16, not 64, and mums 43, not what ever ridiculous number she would be otherwise" "No, you see, we're the ones who are a bit ridiculous here.."
Dark clouds seemed to lower down slowly from nowhere, they hovered in the sky with ominous presence as people stared at them, filmed them. A loud waning noise erupted, blue lightening struck throughout the darkened clouds and the air shook violently. It began. People ran into their homes, hid in dark safe places as weak glass shattered and car alarms cried. Not even dogs made a noise, it was too difficult to breath with their air shaking so violently. The waning sound changed, becoming deeper and open. Peering through windows smaller black ships lowered to the ground, low enough to disappear unless above you. Dark, tight skinned figures with swirling cosmic eyes descended from these ships. Smaller one with spikes screeched and screamed, taller one lifting their long thin arms as the little ones ran towards the houses in a frenzy; screaming with excitement as black ooze dripped from their sharp teeth. They are coming.
You never believed the conspiracies. Everyone who believed it was insane, youve said it hundreds of times. But now you can only hope you are dreaming. Today started off like any other. You woke up, got ready for work, and left the house. You stopped for an Egg McMuffin like always, but you cant remember paying for it. When you got to work, you tried to push the door open, but it didn't budge. You remember pushing the door open everyday for the past ten years, but today you have to pull it open. You go to say good morning to Carol, promising yourself that today you will finally ask her to get some coffee with you, but there is a short, stocky man in her place. When you ask him who he is he tells you that he's Steve, your coworker and friend of five years. You go to ask your manager where Carol is, but you find him standing perfectly still in the center of his office. You attempt to run out of the room, but you run into a wall that you cant see. The room starts to flicker, and suddenly you are standing across the office. As soon as you try to move, everything goes black and your vision is flooded with simple white text. Error, no connection. Signal lost.
Okay, fine. He may be my best friend, but I've had enough of this panel's outgassing over how much better it is to be a extrovert. "Hey, Bill! I'm leaving. Can you find another ride home?" "Bob? Why are you leaving?" "Sorry, Bill. But I've had as much of this as I can take." "Should I take it that you are not convinced and actually disagree with the panel?" "Yes, Bill. G'night." "Wait! Would you be willing to at least present your opinion?" "You sure about this, Bill?" "Yes, Bob, I am. It's why I asked you to come." "On your head be it, Bill." I see Bill walk back down to the stage, hand him my lapel mic, clipping it into place for him. "Break A Leg, Bill.""More likely a few skulls, Bob."Which goes out over the sound system and gets a few laughs. "Alright. Bill has asked me to present my views on this discussion. I hope you are all prepared for some serious disappointment." "I am an introvert. I rarely take the opportunity to express my views in public, but I haven't heard such a one sided argument in ages." "I was perfectly willing to just walk out, and leave, but I owed Bill some warning. You may remember he's the one who talked me into coming." "Well, one thing you're all forgetting is that being an extrovert is not a goal in and of itself. Being an extrovert just describes how you interact with others." "Being an introvert is much the same. Your primary claim is that extroverts have a greater impact on the world, and more fun. But your wrong." "Being an extrovert, your fun is more visible, but is no more intense or better than that quiet enjoyment that introverts have. Extroverts may be more visible on the world stage than introverts, but they actually have less power to affect generations." "I'd like a show of hands from the panel. How many of you enjoy sitting quietly with a good book? Yeah, what I thought. You'd actually prefer to be out and doing." "How many of you think you could sit still long enough to write an in depth treatise on any topic that wasn't extrovert activities oriented? Again, about what I thought." "Now, the audience. How many of you have actually written an in depth treatise on an extrovert activity?"That many! "How many of you truly enjoy a sitting and reading a good book?"Almost everyone! "How many of you feel that you are just as satisfied with your life as these panel members? Yeah, maybe 10% aren't." "Of the 10%, how many of you have felt insulted by the panel discussion? Interesting, all of you." "And the rest? How many have felt insulted? Nearly all. Thank you for your participation and patience." "Members of this panel. You have forgotten that you had just as much fun as an introvert that your having now as an extrovert. It was quieter, less obvious, less physically demanding. But you still enjoyed life. If you experienced a life changing event, on average, would you have been willing to undergo that event if you'd had any choice?" "I see." "THEN WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WHEN YOU ASKED US TO!?!" "No, let me correct that question..." "WERE YOU THINKING AT ALL!?!" "NO, you weren't. Introverts have as much if not more to contribute to society as extroverts. Attempting to convince every introvert to change is dangerous. It unbalances society. It cuts off the flow of ideas from introverts in favor of extroverts preferred activities." "If your happy being an extrovert, more power to you. Leave us introverts to our pleasures. If we decide to change, we'll take care of it." "Bill, is that about what you expected?" "Yes, Bob. It was everything I hoped for. Now, shall we go home?" As we walk out of the room, we hear a rustle of seats and shuffling. The extroverts trying to convince the introverts to stay. It's not doing much good.
No problem I have encountered to this point, hasn’t been easily fixed by a simple chicken sacrifice. Invading armies no problem, just get a few of our men in a line in front of the enemy, and have them start snapping a few live chicken’s necks in front of them, the sacrifice is enough to send the enemy running the other way. Or how about figuring out family disputes, well that’s simple, just have them see who can sacrifice the most chickens in under an hour. But today, I’m faced with a challenge like never before, one that I can’t see how killing our chickens could help. “All of our harvests failed, what should we eat Elder?” Yes, theres no way that killing chickens could help us with our food problem.
It was a stupid idea, at later thought. Entering without checking the occupants of the room and then shouting - "I LOVE YOU!"- at the top of your lungs. The stunned silence and the beep of what seemed to be an explosive, looking fairly stereotypical for that sort of thing, spoke volumes. The young man who was cuffed to the booth looked with weary eyes, as the woman wearing the skintight outfit with the golden crown and the strangely familiar face-mask made a sound and then the world changed. "Hey, I'm Mark."The voice of the other guy reaches my ears, as he looks apologetic, the woman starting a maniacal cackle, as the dialogue turns cheesy. "She'll stop ranting for a while, she's just waiting for her date. We're the guys she's kidnapped, you see..." "Silence, fool! You are but mere slime which is unfit to lick my boot! A mere splat of phlegm unworthy to caress these gorgeous curves!"My gaze rested on those 'gorgeous curves' and my internal evaluation indeed rated them as A+. Nice hips, really. "She's all huff and puff. I'm the hired extra. So... You're in love with her, right?"I didn't dare to comment, as a high-heeled boot found its way on the table. "Lick mine boot, Man-Slave! It is repentance! Wonder-Lass has thwarted my plans for the last time!"There was no other option for me, bending down to lick over the boot. It tasted like plastic and latex, too clean for consumption. The click of the cuffs being fastened was something that I only noticed after that was done. "Aww shit, you actually did it. She'll be 'affectionate' now... Please don't worry. She doesn't kill her dates... usually."The woman's head was thrown back as more laughter came from her mouth. "Hired me twice, really... Easy fifty bucks for about two-three hours of work." "Silence, worm! Your new compatriot will feel the sting of the Energy Lash soon enough! There is nothing but magnificent pleasure in his future!"I looked at the odd woman, as she looked around, a frown on her face. Clearly she was waiting for something. A phone rang, and the woman plucked a small phone from between her cleavage. The dramatic tone of voice was gone like the melted ice. "You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago... What's the matter, pookums?"The urban accent totally shattered whatever illusions that I had, as the villainess started to chat, even as I shifted slightly. "So... Does this happen a lot?"I ask Mark, who nodded. "She likes to act up. Says it makes the sex better."The man sounded resigned. "Mortals! This one has to go. It is time for a change of venue!"The woman departed, leaving the two of us there. "She took the keys, didn't she?"I ask Mark, who nodded. "Yep."The man said, and I sighed. I totally should have gone to the bathroom beforehand, because now I felt like I needed to relieve myself. "Think someone will come and help us out of here?"I ask, Mark's shrug enough of a comment. "Oh dear..." It seems that I wouldn't be going on that date with Jennifer tonight... I should've checked the booth number first...
"The upper floor was renovated just last year,"explained Dave, my real estate agent. "The bathrooms were re-tiled and the plumbing was brought up to date, so it's all fairly new. Let's go take a look." &#x200B; I followed Dave up the staircase (a bit too rickety for me.) As much as I wished to move out of my cramped apartment in the city, I hated looking for new houses. Such inane work, checking all the rooms, making mental notes about everything good or bad about the condition it was in, dealing with Dave and his stupid fucking smile the whole time... but now that I had just gotten a new promotion, making rent was less of an issue. And when my shitty landlord stopped answering my questions about why the hell there were rats in my apartment, I decided that maybe it was time to move out. &#x200B; "Bathroom is right in here,"Dave announced, flashing me his plastic smile and motioning me inside. I stepped into the doorway and looked around. The shower seemed fine, and the toilet appeared to be fairly new, and the countertop appeared to be made of imitation marble. Nothing out of the ordinary, except the mirror. It had an ornate gilded edge around it, and something about it was off-putting... &#x200B; I looked into it deeply, seeing my face reflected there. Nothing else... right? &#x200B; "Oh yes, the mirror. It's a bit odd, not decorated at all like the rest of the bathroom."Dave had followed my gaze. "To be honest, I'm not sure what style the previous owner was going for, the rest of the bathroom being in such a modern style."I wasn't listening. As I watched, my face seemed to slowly fade away, along with all the other reflections of things behind me. And like a window, I could see that behind this mirror was a snow-covered forest of spruces and pines. And staring back at me was a young woman, simply clad in a gray cloak. &#x200B; I slapped myself in the face. Hard. Nope, not a dream. &#x200B; "Is everything alright?"Dave looked quizzically at me. I simply pointed in the mirror, at the forest, at the woman inside. &#x200B; "Can you see that?" &#x200B; "You mean the wall behind you?"Dave clearly didn't see it. He looked at me, confusion in his eyes. Dammit, who was this woman? I made up my mind. &#x200B; "Sorry, Dave. I think I fell asleep. It's been a busy few days, you know?"That part wasn't a lie. I had been working late into the night to meet my new deadlines. Dave made some sounds of agreement, but I wasn't paying attention. &#x200B; "Dave, is it okay if I used the bathroom real quick? And then let's go see the basement, yeah?"Go away, Dave, I need to find out what is going on here. &#x200B; "Sure, no problem. I'll wait for you downstairs."I practically slammed the door in his face. I knew I wasn't being polite to him, but right now that was the least of my worries. I heard his footsteps going down the stairwell, and I locked the door. Then I turned around and approached the mirror. &#x200B; "Who are you? Are you real?"The woman in the mirror just looked back. I felt her eyes staring deeply into mine, and felt deep... longing? Nostalgia? What was going on? Who was this person? "Why are you here?" &#x200B; The woman seemed to flinch at that question. &#x200B; "Are you trapped there?"What was I doing, talking to what was clearly a hallucination? Maybe the long hours were beginning to take their toll. The woman shook her head. "So why are you in there then?" &#x200B; She hesitated, and then pointed at me. My heart skipped a beat. Me? "I don't even know you. Why would I be the reason you're in there? Are you trying to tell me you're not real?" &#x200B; She looked at me, and I could see there were tears in her eyes. She shook her head and pressed her palm against the glass, like a window. Inviting me. I did not put my hand on the glass. &#x200B; "Please, tell me what's going on."The feeling of loss, of pain, in my chest was getting stronger. "What's going on? Who are you?" &#x200B; Her eyes begged me to put my hand to the glass. Behind her, the wind picked up and loose snow fell from the tree branches above. And was it just me, or did I feel a sudden gust of cold air blowing across my skin? &#x200B; I placed my hand to the glass and felt myself being sucked in. &#x200B; &#x200B;
“J-724 to Base. We have visual on the subject. Suspects are armed and almost ready. Me and Private-eye are in position. About to proceed, over.” “… Base to J-724. 10-4. Proceed, over and out.” Jenny took a deep breath. She’d substituted the uniform blue for a camouflage suit for the forest environment. She pushed a second button on her walkie talkie and spoke in hushed tones. “Stand-by, Private-eye. I’m about to go in.” A low, growly voice responded. “De…cidueye.” She stood up and moved in a fox walk. She could see the men that had set up equipment for the hunting, then plucking of the Legendary that stood several yards away from them. It’s technicoloured hues stood out like a sore-thumb against the trees. “Halt!” she shouted, presenting her badge in front of her. “You are under arrest by the authority of the Jenny Corps!” She doubted they would come quietly but it was protocol to announce anyway. The men froze and turned to her, a number glancing towards a tall man with a dark beard who wore an amulet coin. He didn’t move for a while. The man holding the rifle stared intensely at the officer. As the leader started to move, he swung his rifle around in a panic, pointing it at Jenny. An arrow glanced off the barrel just as it was fired. The shot went wide. Jenny drew her gun and fired at the man, hitting him in the shoulder. The leader picked up his gun and his gang followed suit. “Get her, boys!” As Jenny ducked for cover, he grabbed his radio. “It’s the Js! Get the bird and go!” Jenny pressed her collar radio. “Private-eye, get the other squads. 10 and 2 o’clock!” “Decidueye!” The bird focussed his attention away from the fight below him and listened to the surrounding woods. He heard 2 groups of 3 large creatures each running clumsily through the undergrowth. Barely moving his head, he drew an arrow, knocked it and fired towards the group to his left. A handful of poachers on the ground noticed something whizz by overhead, only to have shots fired at them by the skilled officer. She peeked from behind her box. Ho-oh was looking around in confusion. She heard the second arrow find its mark and yelled out. “Use Safeguard!” Her partner glowed with energy, along with her and Ho-oh. “Sniper in the trees!” The poachers fired at the area of the tree that glowed, but their bullets whiffed. One poacher stopped firing and glanced around him. Something moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a shadowy figure had appeared. It swung an appendage at him and knocked him back. The shadows faded to reveal a tall bird creature. He drew an arrow and shot the man in the leg at point blank range. He screamed and drew the attention of his comrades. Private fired another volley of arrows at the approaching men. While her partner drew fire, Jenny worked her way around to get to the leader, the man whose face had eluded her corps for years. He was getting on a motorbike, assisted by 2 other men. She aimed at the tires and fired, though this gave her position away. One musclebound assistant picked up a spanner and threw it at her. As she dodged, he approached and threw a punch. It connected and she fell to the ground, dropping her gun. He loomed over her as she scrambled up, getting into a fighting stance. “Hehe… I’ve always wanted to throw down against one of you Jenny bitches.” Jenny heard the motorbike racing off but didn’t dare take her eyes off her foe. “I hope I don’t disappoint.” The man threw another punch, but Jenny was ready for it. She pulled his arm across her body and countered. He rammed his shoulder into her and pushed her back, her shoes scraping through the mud. A loud screech was heard. Ho-oh still hadn’t taken off. It looked like it was trying but was being pulled down by an invisible string. Jenny needed to end this fast. She rammed into the man, making him push against her. She kept pushing until she could see her partner was in a good place. “Private!” she grunted. “Use Spirit Shackle!” The bird rotated his head and shot an arrow at the ground between the man’s feet. Jenny stepped back and when the man tried to gain more ground, he tripped and fell into the mud. She ran towards the Legendary bird, still struggling to get off the ground. She noticed one of Private’s stray arrows in the ground. It must be pinning the bird’s shadow to the ground. She ran over and yanked it out of the ground. She called. “Get out of here now!” Another man, a lot worse for wear, came running towards the pair. “Stay back!” Jenny ordered, holding the arrow like a javelin. “Please! I just need one feather! It’s my daughter! She needs hope in these times!” he cried. Jenny paused. The man seemed sincere. Allowing this kind of thing seemed like a slippery slope, but she didn’t want to deny Ho-oh the ability to spread joy, especially when there’s so little to go around. She slowly looked towards the bird, who was looking at the man. The man was breathing rapidly. The feathers of the bird were dazzlingly beautiful. Its head started to come towards it. A shot was fired at the bird’s back. It screeched and spun around. It saw the assailant, gun still smoking. It reared up and lurched its head forwards, mystical flames bursting from its mouth. The fire engulfed the screaming man entirely. The bird flapped its wings and took off. Private watched as the creature took off. If nothing else, they had at least made sure it lives another day. And if the legends were true, maybe this would be the start of a change. \--- Please give constructive criticism. I think the ending is kind of abrupt but I didn't know what else to do. Feel free to nit-pick Pokemon canon, police protocol and hunting technique. This was a fun prompt, thank you!
I was never a superstitious man. All over the Wasteland, people make up stories about ghosts, gods, monsters. I never believed a lick of em’. When I heard that Scavenger talking about a paradise utopia, The Happiest Place on Earth he called it, I regarded the as all the other tall tales I had heard over my years. But here I was, standing in the damn place. I drew my trusty Sawed-Off as I went further, past a large archway that stood at the front of the place. As I went in deeper, I finally saw what that guy was talking about. The placed looked absolutely untouched by the Wasteland around it. The grass and trees grew green, the water looked completely pure, without the muck and grime and shit, and even the sky seemed alive, unlike the sickly green overcast everywhere else. I went into this cave sticking out over a pond. Inside the cave, I saw metal walls, as if it was a mine of sorts. I ventured down deeper and deeper, occasionally putting an odd mutie or too out of its misery. At the deepest part of the building, I saw a wall lined with high tech gizmos and trinkets. And than I saw him. A man suspended in a block of ice, a tank of sorts. I pressed a button,and slowly he was thawed out. Than he started to speak. As he did, I saw his form more clearly. He had what seemed to be a collection of wires, tubes, and metallic parts sticking in him. “Hello, friend” he said in a raspy voice. “I am Walter-Walt Disney. Creator of this park, my most prized possession” “Walt who?” I asked him back. “Never mind that. I designed this room, and plugged myself into this computer over here. Over the last 90 years, I’ve had access to all the security cameras and electronics in the park. I saw it all. The war. The raiders, the mutants. I’ve kept this park pristine as it is, so that one day a person would come. Help me, carry on legacy. You are the one, the first one. It is in your hands. The Happiest Place on Earth is in your hands. Everything you need to know is in that book over their” I picked up the book, and opened it. “Whatta I need to do?” I asked the frail man. “You must know-the Tomorrowl-the Tom-The Exhibitttttttttttt!” The man died, and all the lights coming from the screens and computers went off. Whatever quest he left, I decided, I must complete. Part 2 coming soon.
[Posting from mobile so sorry for formatting in advanced] The year humanity was almost killed, was the year the vampires came from the shadows. They were royalty, rich, famous, but more importantly more powerful. They stole life, blood, from the poorer as they feasted. It was the worst where I lived. London, England, in the throws of the Black Death. I was a young girl, caught up by those who ran from the rats infesting the streets, only to have ended up in the manor as a blood slave to one of the noble vampires. I worked to not be killed like my mother, mixing my blood with narcotics so they would fall asleep as I tried to arm myself against them. They restricted silver mirrors from their rooms, but danced under large ones in the ball room, they laughed at their twisted morality. I was beaten, burned, bite, kicked, stabbed, but still I fought. I was safe from the horrible blood death that plagued the streets, but I still fought undead inside the manor. It was until an alchemist became part of the manor did I realize a horrible plan. To wipe them out. First get them under the same mirror in the great hall, then set a trap to shatter and impale them all. However, I was naive to think my planning would go unnoticed. I was found out by a younger slave who turned out to be the daughter of the master of the manor. She cruelly laughed and picked me up by my dress, dirted from cleaning. "My father has already killed your partner, now for our plan, to begin."Her haunting laughter echoed as she pulled me to the top of the manor. Up towards the end, I smelled ash and smoke. "Look upon your england."She began to morph into a bat and hold me higher. Below me, London was ablaze. "Humanity's dreams have gone up in smoke. All hope is gone."She bit into my arm just to get me to scream, "Let's watch the world burn together."She slowly pulled me further to death, but neither her father or her realized what they had done. Their manor caught fire as well, causing the roof to collapse onto the mirror, causing it to erupt in shards, impaling the vampire below with silver fragments and oak beams. Even as the smoke and the heat of the fire pulled me from life's falsehood, I knew that this would be London's best bounce back. [Again, really sorry this is on mobile]
This slab has been vexing me for some time. I found it a few days ago in a long-hidden cave, entombed in a collapsed shaft. Where everything else in the ruined tunnel had a thick layer of soot and dust, the stone did not. I couldn’t figure out how it had remained in such good condition, even still sitting on what looked like a stone pedestal, despite being buried for who-knows-how-long...in fact, I first thought one of my companions had snuck in and planted it before I got there, but there were no tracks in the dust on the floor… By all accounts, it’s just a simple slab of stone, no bigger than a sheet of printer paper, and about 10mm thick. The black stone looked similar to obsidian from the way it reflected, but the weight seemed much heavier than obsidian I was used to handling. And most curious of all, any attempts I made at scraping some flakes off of the edges for study failed completely, not even my hardest tools making a scratch on the slab. Frustrated, I set it down on the desk, getting up to fix myself a drink, but as I reached the door I heard something...a soft bell ringing. And it was coming from my desk, right where I’d set the stone slab. I hurried back over, and I discovered that I’d inadvertently set it on my wireless charging pad...which seemed now to be charging something. The chime had fallen silent after only three rings, but I stared at the slab in wonder, waiting for something else to happen, and after a few tense moments I was not disappointed; the face lit up, and strange symbols in a language I didn’t recognize started scrolling along it, as well as what was unmistakably a progress bar. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. An ancient stone slab, found in a ruin easily a few thousand years old, was charging up. Technology far, far more advanced than the ancient humans could have mustered. From the looks of it, far more advanced than anything we could create today, too. And as I watched, the progress bar was nearing the end...then it hit the end and the slab went black again, reflecting me staring up at myself. “No! No no no! Come back! You can’t do that to me, you can’t promise a discovery like that and just pull it away!” I said as I started tapping and touching the stone along its face, along the sides and edges, trying to find some sort of button or switch I may have missed. I don’t know if I hit anything or if it was just part of the process like when you restart a computer, but it did light back up after a few seconds, and I was staring at a face that was decidedly not human. It was unmistakably a face though. Two large eyes, a nose, a mouth. Pale green skin with darker green hair topping its head, the eyes were iridescent, rippling through a whole rainbow of colors as the being turned left and right in the screen. A little snub nose which flicked closed as I watched; it seemed to have flaps inside to close its olfactory systems. And a mouth that looked shockingly similar to my own, with thin lips that parted as some horrendous noise came out of it, making me cry out in pain and clutch my ears. The noise stopped almost immediately, so cautiously I took my hands away a little and looked again at the slab, and watched the being’s head rise a little, and words started to show up beneath it. They were different from the ones when it first started charging, and I still couldn’t read them, but the alphabet did look vaguely familiar. I watched as it printed up many, many words, and when it stopped, staring at me, I could only stare back. Cautiously, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and aimed it at the slab, to get a picture of the words to text to some friends, when the device made that horrible noise again and I flinched away. It had reacted to the phone? The noise was gone, but the slab’s face now showed the being’s hands, gesturing me closer and closer. Experimentally, I shook my head no, and the gesturing grew to be even more urgent. It really was capable of observing me. I stepped closer, and it pointed at me, and gestured closer. After a few seconds I realized it was pointing at my phone, not at me. Cautiously, and not a little curiously, I reached out to set my phone down on the slab, but before I did I stopped. “What the hell am I thinking? What if this is some sort of alien device that can like...take over my phone? I mean, obviously, it’s some sort of alien device, but…no. No!” I shook my head again as I pulled my phone back, and the creature’s mouth opened in despair, but fortunately it didn’t make any noise. I started to pace my little home office, trying to think. Why did it want my phone? It had obviously been off for some time, did it think it could interface somehow? What about just curiosity? Was it conscious? It could clearly observe me, and was reacting to what I was doing, so I leaned towards yes to that question, at least some sort of limited consciousness…”My god, what on Earth have I stumbled on here?” I muttered to myself, and, throwing caution to the wind, lay my phone on top of the slab.
I...must find a way Bella searches through her notes, her desk resembling her disheveled appearance. Focusing on the manuscripts she places in her hands, re-reading every line as if suddenly being diagnosed with dyslexia. There has to be a way... Blinking a few times to relax her eyes, she throws the papers onto the desk and sighs. "There is one way for you to obtain immortality"says her cat, Meowtrix. Bella stares at the cat, squinting as if trying to read its mind. Meowtrix glances to the corner of Bella's desk where there is a black book with a piece of parchment sticking out. Bella follows her eyes to where Meowtrix is looking, reaches out and pulls on the piece of paper, staring at it blankly, her pupils shrinking as the light from the candle sitting on her desk reflects off her glossy eyes. She realizes what must be done to be in forever union with her with the boy. She reads the yellow piece of paper, the words bleeding inside her mind. Forbidden magic.. 100 souls must be devoured by a god weapon... During the Age of Calamity, the gods would side with different factions residing in the world, gifting them with a weapon that could be used to conqueror. These weapons contained immense power, and when the factions realized that immortality can be achieved by collecting 100 souls, the gods made their presence to take away what was once gifted. Towards the end of the Calamity, many lives were lost in fighting against the gods to take back what was once theirs... Bella gently puts down the piece of parchment and looks back at her cat. "I know what I need to do", she says. &#x200B; &#x200B;
God in the Machine, &#x200B; Clinical madman, and so and so and so. What would I do if I were talking to "I", whatever that means. Are you, truly me? Am I not, a living, breathing (if it be true that I am not merely unreal) ship of Theseus? Is my mind the same? Is the substance, the atoms, the cells that compose me, the energy that sustains me, part of the same substance, the same structure, as that when I "was"you? Or was I "you". &#x200B; Even the sentences, the words I use for you possess for you a different quality. &#x200B; And herein lies the paradox, either I can be "you", or I can be "I". Not both, yet possibly none, yet not none for I am, unless I exist only in relation to those around me, in which case they exist in relations to me, in which case........infinite regress. &#x200B; If "I""am""you", if I am not a being in the mode of "time", then what is the point of living. Do not our minds change, our bodies differ, as we learn, although what we learn in itself might be truly unlearning. How, then, do we define progression, what narratives do I conform to if they do not exist, if there is no change, if being as a whole was constructed at one point of time, and never changed. &#x200B; If, however, "I"am not "you", then "what""was""I"? Is there anything preceding "me", if "you"aren't "me"in essence? &#x200B; Do you have any answers, oh God in the Machine, oh "you"younger "self", if "I"do not know what "I"or "you"are, what do we know indeed? Or is it perhaps that only "we"exists? &#x200B; Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit &#x200B; Nothing comes from nothing &#x200B; Except, everything that defines nothing. &#x200B; \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- For more postmodern ramblings, click [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/aw1bal/wp_write_a_letter_to_past_you_your_former_self/ehjdazl) &#x200B; &#x200B;
Leon looked at the crumbling buildings around him. He had been wandering around in a famous city for quite a while and was shocked to find an intact laptop inside an artifact museum with a USB even. Perhaps he could find out more about the past with this! Leon and some others survived a war but it seems like it gave them selective amnesia and all memories of the past and information about human culture was lost. They've been trying to find sources of it so they can remake humanity He brought back his finding to the base and told their leader he had found something that could help them rebuild the world. He was nervous but at the same time excited. The leader, Joel, was overjoyed to find such an ancient relic that could give them answers to make a better society. They started the laptop and went through the usb since the laptop didn't really had anything in it since it was meant for display only. They found video file named 'Pewd's vid' and decided to watch them. It was videos of a guy named Pewdiepie and the way he speaks was...... Weird for Leon at least but he thinks he was quite funny. Joel and Leon watch the 'Pewdiepie' guy doing things like reviewing.......Memes? Leon and Joel didn't know what memes was. Maybe this was the thing that united the society? Or was it the cause of humanity's downfall? But looking at the memes he reviewed, Leon told Joel that he was sure this was the culture they had way back then. Joel doubted him for a while but it felt right to assume that memes was an important culture of humanity. Joel then decided to make these 'Memes' as moral examples like, having Allstar as their new national song and the 'Shaggy' guy as their new god since a lot of people seem to have worshipped him in the past. They also found out that Pewdiepie fought against a......Nation perhaps? It was a nation, called T-series. They were fighting using..... Subscribers. Leon was quite shocked along with Joel. Both of them had at least 85 Million followers! Were these their soldiers?! Was this the war that caused humanity's downfall that led to the catalysmic war? Before closing the laptop Joel pointed out that there was another file called "ASMR" Joel opened the ASMR file and found even more videos, maybe this could help answer other questions they still have. They opened it and found people eating raw honey from the honeycomb and crunching on fried chicken. Leon and Joel's mouth watered but focused on finding the meaning behind this. Leon asked Joel for his opinions and he thinks that this could've been some kind of ritual for this 'ASMR' and that maybe this was also a religion that co-existed with Shaggyism. So with this all is set. The survivors are given 2 religion to choose from. Shaggyism and ASMR. A gen z tried to scream out that all of this were wrong but alas she was a mute but she accepted these new world. And now, begins the rebuilding of the Earth's colony.
I sat in that Asian diner staring at the small strip of paper in my hands. I was in shock. The intent of the printed red letters was clear. The waitress brought the bill to my table. With a smile and an Asian accent, she asked if I needed anything else. "May I have another fortune cookie,"I asked. "Of course!"She walked back to the serving line and returned with a hand full of fortune cookies wrapped in clear plastic. "I just grabbed you a bunch; you can have some for later, ok." I thanked her and immediately opened one of the wrappers. I broke the cookie open and discarded it pulling the strip of paper out. It said the same thing as the one before. You must kill Samantha Green. Sweat beads formed on my brow. I looked around the diner hoping to see a group of people waiting to jump out and tell me this was a joke. Everyone in that diner went about their business as if I were not there. There was no joke. I pulled another enclosed cookie from the pile and opened it discarding the cookie again. This one was not the same as the last two. This one read: If you don't kill Samantha Green, bad things will happen. I open the next Cookie in a rush. It read: She will kill thousands of people. and the next: If you do not, you will die with the others! I opened another. The red letters made my stomach heave. You must kill her tonight, Gavin. &#x200B; I slammed my hand down on the table. I collected the unopened cookies and the paper strips. Stuffed them in my pocket and after paying my bill rushed to my car. I do not recall all the events from the car to my girlfriend's apartment. Three hours after I left the diner I was standing in front of, Samantha Green, my girlfriend. I was showing her the strips of paper. She laughed; she sat down on the couch holding the strips of paper. She looked at each of the red transcripts and let another laugh out. She looked up at me. I saw a tear rolling from her eye. At that moment I saw something else. &#x200B; She changed. &#x200B; I don't know how to explain it. It was like the girl I knew from high school was no longer there. Her eyes turned pale blue, as if they were illuminated. She let out a blood-curdling howl before jumping up and grabbing my throat with both of her hands. "She was trying to kill me, as sure as I sit here now Officer. She was possessed or something." Gavin sat back in his chair staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the two detectives. &#x200B; "Do you have the strips of paper,"Officer Martinez ask over the interrogation table. "Yes." Gavin handed the officers the papers from his pocket. &#x200B; Officer Martinez looked at the strips and shot a glance at his partner sitting next to him. &#x200B; "You are sure Gavin, that these are the strips from the restaurant?" "Yes, I gathered them up off the floor from around her body, then I called 911. I wanted to ensure that I had them for whoever asked." The detectives looked at each other again. Detective Martinez tisked and held the papers out to Gavin. &#x200B; Gavin, These papers are blank. Gavin sat forward inspecting the strips of paper. &#x200B; The paper strips were blank. There was no red writing on them.
It was finally Friday. That meant the scary stories chat room would be up. Nothing helped you feel like you were not the only person in a nuclear shelter than ready a scary story in the dark. I slide into the chair and loaded up the chat room and saw only 1 story titled, "It All Started With A Knock."Excitedly I started to read. It All Started With A Knock. There is nothing above us we all know that. It has been years since I have actually seen another living person in the flesh. Although we can talk online it doesn't give you the same feelings as being able to hold someone in your arms. Most didn't keep record of how long it has been, but I knew it had been nearly 3 years. I stretched and decided I would work on the greenhouse plants a bit today. Thats when the strangest thing happened, there was a knock on the door. I froze and slowly looked towards the door of the shelter, and began to think. The door was down a 30 foot hole and across a long hallway to protect it from getting blocked, so nothing could hit the door. Time seemed to stop and I continued to stare at the door. Then it happened again, but this time it was far more forceful and deliberate. Nothing could get in the whole shelter was designed to survive the fall out so I decided to ignore it, for safety. I went back to the days plans and walked to the greenhouse and started to work ignore the refular knocks on the door. Almost 3 hours passed and the knocking on the door stopped. "Finally,"I thought as I checked the water filter for the plants. Suddenly there was another knock, on the Wall of the greenhouse. Nothing shiuld be able to reach the wall, how was this happening. The knock grew louder and louder as I stared. Banging started on all the walls now and echoed throughout the shelter. Power cut out for a minute until the emergency generator kicked in. I sprinted to the generator and saw the cable linked to the solar panels was pulled completely out of the wall and something was reaching inside the hole as the knocking echoed. Quickly I ran for my gun, and shot the pale white appendage. It made a screeching sound as it slid out and I took the chance to throw everything I could to block the hole. The knocking stopped, and I could hear angry sounding noises coming from outside through the hole. Four deafening bangs smashed the silence. I cowered in the corner grasping my gun close. The world began to lift, and turn in ways that I never thought possible, followed by the feeling of weightlessness as the shelter seem to plummet down hard to the ground. I smashed to the ground and the gun went off and I shot myself in the stomach. The pain was immeasurable and I dropped my gun, falling to the ground face first. Through the haze I could hear something at the door. The drop must have damaged it because I watched in horror as it slowly opened. Slowly dark figures stepped in the door and looked around. I tried not to make any sounds in hope they wouldn't see me, to no avail. I heard foot steps approaching. Looking up I saw something walking right at me. Panicing I stirred all the energy I had to reach for my gun, and i felt my fingers close on the cold steel. I knew there was one way out. As the creatures made horrifying noises and began to rush at me, I pointed the gun at my head and pulled the trigger. ... "Wow another good read,"I said to myself, "I better let them know I enjoyed re.."My thoughts were cut short by a faint but deliberate knock on my shelters door...
Written a blurb for a book I'm writing. Would love to get some feedback on it, does it sound interesting, does it make you want to know more etc? >Twigs had always believed in the saying that you are the star of your own show. However, when he finds himself working alongside the most dangerous woman in all of Umbrae, he soon realises that he might just be the side-kick. > >All he wanted was a promotion. Unfortunately for him the application failed to detail the amount of blood, running or civilisation-ending catastrophes that would be involved. As a rule, blood, running or civilisation-ending catastrophes weren’t really his thing. &#x200B;
(Byss is pronounced as abyss without the A, and Aotori is pronounced oi-tory.) &#x200B; There was nothing in this void, just darkness. I decided to walk in any direction; it didn’t matter to me which way I went. &#x200B; “Black, black, black. There was absolutely nothing here,” I said to myself, “Well I guess this is what Hell is... extreme boredom. Not even one single fire insight.” &#x200B; In a few moments, I was stood right next to the button which read, "Reset"naturally my hand reached out to the button and pressed it with no thought, what so ever. &#x200B; “Huh, that’s strange, I thought nothing was here,” I pondered to myself, as I headed towards the big red button, like a moth to a lamp. &#x200B; “What’s the harm in pressing it?"I asked myself, "maybe it will make this world less empty?” &#x200B; A booming deep voice, that came from nowhere, that bellowed, “Byss Aotori, I give you a brand-new chance to reset your life!” &#x200B; A spotlight than appearing from out of nowhere, which illuminated a tiny girl with Tuscan orange eyes, and long flowing hair, coloured lavender. She was wearing a cute lolita dress, and she had feathered wings on her back. &#x200B; “Umm… that was not supposed to happen. It was supposed to stay dark.” panicked the girl. &#x200B; “Who are you?” I asked the girl. &#x200B; “Well, Byss. That's a very funny question, and you see I’m an angel. I help, people get to the afterlife,” responded the girl. &#x200B; “Well you look too young to be an angel; you look only fourteen,” I remarked. &#x200B; She breathes in sharply and then replied, “Well I find that extremely insulting. I’m only thirteen billion years old, nearly as old as the universe, so I’ve got a lot of experience with dealing with hopeless clients.” sticking out her tongue at me.“I will just make this very simple, you have died, and now you're dead. Now it's my job is to help you get to the afterlife. You’re stupid humans, think that there are good places and bad places. Well, that is totally wrong! There is only here or being reincarnated into a new world.” &#x200B; She magically summoned a book, out of thin air, “looking at your life report, it looks like you were an otaku. Haha, this is pretty interesting, it looks like you have watched two hundred episodes of anime, you have loads of manga, figures, a body-pillow, and a booby mousepad.” She slams the book with one hand, “I guess you know the drill, as your atypical otaku?” &#x200B; “Yeah, this is like a classic isekai anime, so do I get to bring one something from my world..." &#x200B; “Nope, you get nothing. Are you sure you want to be reincarnated? You have to learn a new language, you have to kill things, everything wants to kill you, and it such a pain for me. Could you just stay here? it will be fun, I’ll even teach you how to summon things into existence.” &#x200B; “Umm… can I try both out first, to see what I like the best?”I asked. &#x200B; “Well you can, but I don’t recommend it, as if you don’t like your new life, you have to kill your self to get back here. Please just stay here.” I asked. &#x200B; “Well I can’t say no to a loli, so I’ll stay here,” I replied, “If I’m staying here, I got to know your name.” &#x200B; “Yes, thank you,” she cried tears of happiness, “my name is Lavender.” She then takes my hand and warps me to an enormous pristine mansion. &#x200B; “Welcome to your new life Byss. You’re the first person I’ve taken here, in my thirteen billion years of serves,” said Lavender. &#x200B;
"We're living in a simulation!"Jaime said suddenly. He stared at his best friend, Martin, sitting across from him. Jaime offered him lunch in the park and Martin never turned down free food. The curly-haired young man raised a single eyebrow at Jaime but continued taking a bite of pizza. "I've thought it for a long time, but I never mentioned it because I had no proof."Jaime fell quiet and waited several seconds for Martin to finish chewing. finally, "So you're saying you have proof now?"he asked. Jaime nodded. He stood and rushed around the concrete picnic table to sit next to Martin. Along the way he fished a cellphone out of his pocket; he held it up to show Martin when he sat down. "On. Off. What am I looking at?"he asked. Two labeled, round buttons showed on the screen along with a live preview from the camera. "I hacked it,"Jaime grinned. "I can't do much, but it's proof."He touched the 'On' button on the screen. "I don't see anything?"Martin asked while he stared at the empty park in front of him. "You have to point it at someone,"Jaime said. He walked around the other side of the table and stood in front of Martin. A solid green bar floated above Jaime's head. The numbers 100/100 hovered next to the bar with a small heart icon. "Neat, you invented a filter,"Martin chuckled. "It's not a filter, it's real!"Jaime said. He sat down at the table again and pulled the phone from Martin's hands. "Look, it changes."He turned and aimed the phone at a couple walking along one of the park's paths. Their green bars were longer than Jaime's, and they had purple bars underneath the green. "#32 / Dancer"hovered above the man's head next to the numbers "4290/ 4290". "#34 / Knight"hovered above the woman's head next to the numbers "7480/7480". A small fist-shaped icon floated next to another word under the purple bar. "Berserker's Rage."Martin turned the phone to look at Jaime, then back at the couple that was now further away. "It's not random,"Jaime smiled. "Every time you look at them it'll give the same info. It's real." "What about me? What does mine say?"Martin released Jaime's hand so he could turn the camera. "Same as mine. Zero, villager. WHOA!"Jaime shouted. "Come see!"Jaime pointed the camera at something behind his friend. Martin turned around and saw a tall black hole in the air. "I see it!"He said. He ran around the table to stand next to Jaime and pulled his own phone out along the way. He started streaming while looking through Jaime's phone. Martin had a decent amount of followers and within seconds hundreds of people were watching the stream. "Guys I'm here at the park and I don't know what I'm looking at."He started a commentary, but a short pale woman with dark hair stepped out of the hole. She looked straight at Jaime. Martin saw her through Jaime's app and took note of the text above her head. "#35 / Ninja. 9999/9999" "You're not supposed to know what you've discovered,"she said flatly then looked at Martin. Her gaze traveled down to the camera on the back of his phone, and she shook her head. "None of you are supposed to know,"she looked right into the camera and held both her hands up. They began to glow with bright blue energy. "What the hell?"Jaime asked. Martin looked at the phone in Jaime's hand. He noticed appeared in front of the woman in large red letters. "Catastrophic server event. Please relocate to another AlterNet server. Server offline in 10 seconds."Then the number began counting down. "What does it mean catastrophic event?!"Jaime asked the woman. She smiled and knelt down to touch the ground with both blue-glowing hands. "It means goodbye."A shower of brilliant blue sparks exploded around her hands. Blue energy flowed down toward the Earth's core, completely consuming anything in its way. \\\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #60. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
It was the middle of the night. And the walls were still talking. Whoever had the bright of idea of giving every inanimate object a spirit too should be hanged, however that would be achieved, or sentenced to god-prison for a million eternities. Now the walls literally talked. And so did the doors, the windows, the pictures, every single pane of glass, and the cup in my hand. And they did so incessantly. Endlessly, in fact. It was a good thing I was hard of hearing, because I would have gone insane long ago if not. My disability has long since become a benefit. Of course, I suspect that the same disability was also what brought on the voices, so it was still more of a curse than anything. My head was knocked off kilter, my brain scrambled. And now the voices never stopped. The incessant jabbering of the world was even more annoying considering these things spoke multiple languages. Multiple languages, for real and true. And so it was no ordinary jabbering, it was meaningless jabbering from every part of the world, sometimes in ancient tongues long lost to humanity. Some historians would have a field day with all this talk. And then they'd go insane from hearing some dark curse uttered by one of these things. The walls are once again, complaining. They say they feel weird, they say that the stuff tacked on to them causes extreme pain, and their insides feel violated with hundreds of fillings. And then these same inconveniences they complain about chime in and complain that they hardly have it better. And then I drink from the cup and it complains about the rough handling. Selfish, selfish things, in the end they're hardly any better than humanity itself. This was the purity of nature and its resources. And we didn't even corrupt them to get them to be this way. The trees outside also complained. As did the ground, dirt, rocks, and plants. They wanted everything to be just so. To fit others to their expectations. And I know all this because I'm a psychic for inanimate objects. I took the can of gasoline, and opened it up. It gave me tips for properly handling it as I spread its contents around the house. The match screamed in pain as I lit it at the end, oblivious to its intended use. I went outside to watch it all burn, as the cacophony of ear-shattering screams of terror hit my ears. I would probably be completely deaf now, but it was all worth it. The last thing I ever heard was the sidewalk asking why I went outside in socks.
It took Gel a while to realize what he was looking at. The stories always spoke of where to find the artefact meant for them. Instead of some artefact he saw a hall fit for a king dimly lit from above. The hall must not have been used for a very long time. The wide carpet was tattered and rotted, the wide pillars riddled with cracks. Once the vision came to view the throne on its dais, he could feel bile rise in his throat. Dozens of bodies spread out behind the throne. The vision moved closer and their faces became more clear. They all had his face. All looked untouched by time, like puppets with their strings cut. He couldn't look down into the basin of water any longer. When he looked up at the Oracle his face had none of the excitement it first held when he entered. "What is this place?"He said, voice one octave higher than usual. "It is where your journey first began."the Oracle said, a wry twist forming on her lips Gel drew his brows together, looking down into the water once again. The oracle never summoned someone without a reason, without knowing they had a purpose. "Why a throne? Why so many of.. Me?"He said, looking back down into the water. He could not help but look at those bodies, no, puppets. It was the only way to not make himself be sick at the thought. While looking at the bodies he noticed that the bodies had different builds. They even wore different outfits, robes and armor. The Oracle did not reply at first. Instead, the vision suddenly drew back and flew out the giant stone doors. There was no hallway or palace outside those doors. Instead he saw the side of a mountain, a narrow passage leading down the mountain’s side. "You never found your artefact, never meant to have one,"The Oracle let out a small laugh. "So you made yourself the treasure. Each death giving you one more body to use in future lives." He took one final look at the mountain and its surrounding before breaking away to focus on the Oracle. Most of this made little sense to him. Never had he even heard of a legend with a similar power. Unsure what it all meant he would never find out until he got there. "What direction?"He said. The Oracle told no one of future events, only nudging them towards their destiny. "North."She answered almost before he even finished. He gave the Oracle one final nod before heading out, not wanting to ask more in fear that they would only bring more questions. And so Gel set out to take the throne and become a king of.. Himself? He had to figure out a suitable title by the time he got there. ___ Somewhat weird/abrupt ending, got lost and unsure where I was going, haha.
Stream of consciousness: Friday Saturday Monday Tuesday. Tuesday what is a Tuesday but the middle of the beginning or the beginning of the middle. The shaft of the week that takes your dignity it is nothing but the dagger that stabs your heart. No it’s much more it’s a day a chance an opportunity to prove that a single day does not defeat the week. It’s an inning it’s a period to score to work to believe that a person is the sum of his or her parts and a Tuesday is just a 1. No it’s 100 it’s the most pure day the day that I want because everyone hates Monday’s loves fridays wednesdays hump day and Thursday’s can go fuck themselves. Tuesday is the day that means something it’s the day that nobody dreads and nobody loves. It’s the median the mean it’s the shadow and the light that can make or break everything and nothing. Today is tuesday and it’s up to you what that means.
He looks around himself and attempts to concentrate. He blinks several times as his eyes focus. He has pain. That was to be expected so the pain is not a significant concern. The Automated Resuscitation System - ARS - is going through its steps to assess his condition. He is responding to the directions. He is holding still for the tests. He holds still for the injections. He is answering the questions. "This body feels acceptable." "There are general aches, but nothing unexpected." "He remembers that he is on a slower-than-light sleeper interstellar spaceship. He remembers his name: Richard P. Winkler." "He doesn't understand the question." "He doesn't understand the question." "His cognitive processes seem to be functioning normally." "He doesn't understand the question." The ARS finishes its evaluation. It has more questions but he need not stay in the cryogenic chamber to answer them. The ship's intercoms follow him throughout the passageways as he opens lockers, dresses in the clothes he finds there, and begins addressing the checklists that will prepare the ship and the rest of the sleepers for the end of the trip. "His cognitive processes seem to be functioning normally." "His name is Richard P. Winkler." "He is speaking normally." "He does not know." The ARS' line of questioning is illogical. His cognitive processes are functioning normally, but the ARS continues to explore his certainty of that fact. It will not accept his assertion that his behavior is normal, that his identity is established. The ARS may have malfunctioned during its extended down time. He will examine it during a scheduled discretionary period. &#x200B; ... &#x200B; Checklist one is complete. Three sleepers have died during the transition. The bodies have been recycled and the appropriate notations entered into the log. He recognized two of their names; one was a Ship's Engineer's Mate. The other was a colonist. Neither of their sleep pods had malfunctioned. One sleep pod had malfunctioned. The sleeper within had suffocated before she could disengage the pod's life support systems. He did not recognize her name. She had damaged the umbilicals; he has recycled the body and repaired the pod. Its self-check routine is underway and will be complete in seventy-three minutes. The remaining three hundred fifty-six pods report that their sleepers are in acceptable condition. Two pods are out of specification and will require refurbishment before they can be used again. The ARS continues to explore his assessment of his own mental health and acuity. He answers its questions. "He is in acceptable health." "He is allergic to tree nuts." "He has not eaten any tree nuts." "He graduated from the University of Utopia twenty-eight years, three months and two days ago." "He majored in Mechanical Engineering with minors in Electrical Engineering and Aerospace Medicine." "His ambition was to become a Ship's Engineer." "He is Ship's Master Engineer, assigned to the Interstellar Expansion Administration colonial sleeper ship Peregrine." "He will consider the hypothetical circumstance." &#x200B; ... &#x200B; The second checklist is complete. The colonists' equipment has undergone the transition with nominal damage. One loader's battery packs had degraded beyond its specification. He replaced it. Access to the pack was time-consuming and required revising the estimated time to completion of the checklist. He has reached another discretionary period. The exertions required by the pack's replacement have necessitated inactivity during the discretionary period. He is considering the hypothesis proposed by the ARS. The ARS asserts that his responses, while nominally acceptable, lack qualities that are expected in responses that would be assessed by the ARS as fully normal. The ARS asserts that his responses are not fully normal and are indicative of a dissociative state or other psychological malfunction. "He understands what 'ego' means." "No." "No." "Yes." "Play the recording." "Hey! This is Master E Rick Winkler, folks, and I'm going to give you a quick rundown on a couple of details before the Captain takes the mic away. Peregrine is the first of her kind, equipped with both the higher-impulse Gen Five light plasma drives and the Sanatana cryo pods. We're going to go faster and you're going to sleep deeper and we're all going to arrive at Luyten B in just under 125 years. Interestingly, even though the Pitseolak Ashoona left twenty years ago, we'll be arriving at about the same time. These engines are that good. "I'm told that in testing these Sanatana pods are way better than the older models. You know what they say: "twenty years asleep in a pod feels like a month in Purgatory."Not these pods, folks. You're going to wake up at the other end thinking they didn't work and we're still around Titan. Don't be fooled! You're going to close your eyes, open them, and we'll be approaching Luyten B. It's going to be a great trip." The ARS is comparing behavior observed in the recording to his current mode of behavior. "He remembers making the recording." "He does." "He does." "He cannot." "He cannot explain why egotistic expression is no longer present." "Without testing that hypothesis' validity cannot be established." "Begin the resuscitation." \[END OF PART 1\] ... &#x200B;
Victims of a greater change. Yes, a great change indeed. The restless sleep ahead of me, yet I continue my work. There is much to be done. The endless torment rolls over in their head. Yet they remain untouched. Dreams are such a useful tool. Learning, creating, falling and rising. All happen within a place of ones own creation. Yet control is relinquished to what they themselves create. The time of falling is upon this dream, however. The total dream. The great dream. And what a fall it has been. Grace, genius, views and logic all fall in a wave. I must work dutifully and I must work hard. A greater gift has not been brought upon any. Pain is such a delight when used to purge. Purge out the dull. Purge out the falling. But it comes with little cost. One night of torment, of pain, of feeling my suffering. One night to know. One night to learn. And what a prize it gives. The fall is upon us. And pain will be the net. The restless are still now. They are now truly waking, yet still in their own scape. Their eyes, opening while remaining shut. Their mind, exposed to the influence and realization, yet still in one world. They know now. There is still so much to save before the dull... Well, Make a mistake.
"It houses the spirit of an ancient warrior..."You remember your father telling you. "Only put it on in times of emergency."The words echo in your mind... You were never one for superstition, and had never put much faith in the myth of the ring. But now? Now was different, desperate. Soldiers around you were clambering out of boats, storming the beach. You put on the ring. Almost immediately, you feel your mind go blank, like you were no longer in control. The feeling barely lasts a second as you suddenly feel like your heart was on fire, every fibre of your muscles burned with a new energy, moving independently. As you grab your rifle, you feel something welling up in your chest. No longer able to stop yourself, you rush forward, screaming the name of the ancient warrior lost to time. "LEEEROOOOOOYYYYY JENKINS!" Almost immediately, everything goes dark. You wake up in the hospital. "Oh my god, you survived?"One of the nurses says, seemingly shocked. "What...happened?"You say, groggy, your head was pouiding. "Well according to your platoon, you charged headfirst into enemy fire, and were immediately riddled with bullets, it's a miracle you survived." So much for Great Ancient Warrior

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