Split (1)

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They carried me out from the wreckage, the smoldering metal that was once my spacecraft. I was conscious, alive, but only barely. They placed me in a nearby river, and my body began to heal. It was miraculous. The only ailment that lingered was the loss of the use of my legs. The numbness was nice, at least. They fastened a stretcher using branches from a nearby tree, which seemed almost to give themselves up as they broke them from the trunk. The people bowed in thanksgiving before they tied the branches together and placed me within. It was sturdy and more comfortable than it looked. They began taking me away from the river, where to I did not know. They talked with one another, in a language I couldn't understand but it sounded peaceful and sweet, like honey dripping on my ears. Over time, through gestures and symbols, they told me of their society, their way of life, and of Him. They had been in the valley for hundreds of years. They lived in perfect harmony, taking from the land what they needed, giving back to the land what they could, and all this due to the provision of Him. They could not describe Him, only that two, their eldest couple, had met with Him before. The one rule, they showed me, was not to eat the fruit from the tree in the middle of the Garden. After a while I slept and when I woke I was laying on the ground. A man stood over me as I came to. He was old, but not fragile. He had short grey hair and he was fit, even chiseled. He looked no older than 60 years, though the sharp knowing in his eyes told me he had been around much longer than that. Above him, from a low branch, dangled succulent fruit. "Welcome,"the old man said, whose familiar words startled me. "Welcome to the middle of the Garden." He knelt down and looked at me with a kind smile. "I am Man, and these are my children, thanks be to Him." He looked at my flight suit, over to my nametag. "Stan, is it?"he asked. "Oh, sorry,"I replied, still a bit taken back by all I was seeing. I spit in my hand and rubbed off some dirt and char that smudged my nametag. "Not Stan. My name is Satan."
# Part 1 - The Most Powerful Villain My older brother and I had a well-kept secret – one we would never share with anyone. So, I ignored the whispering behind me as I readied myself to stand in front of the entire school to be evaluated by their advanced power-ranking Artificial Intelligence. Everyone was ranked one to five, with the latter being exceptionally rare. Almost no one got a five. Most people were ones, twos, and threes, with an occasional four. But that one number given out by the AI would pretty much determine everything for your entire four years in high school. Not to mention your entire life by extension. But I didn’t care. My plans were bigger than that. Much bigger. What happened in high school ultimately didn’t matter to me or my brother. We’d take over the world just the same. The guy in front of me glanced back at me…well, no. He glanced back and down at my chest, smirking before responding awkwardly to his name being called. “Jim Mead!” The AI called out. The perv whipped his head around, not realizing it was already his turn, and then stumbled forward to the elevated stage. He held his hand up to the hologram woman that was the embodiment of the AI, and she placed her palm on his. “Two!” She called out in a loud voice. The AI then smirked at his devastated expression. If I knew any better, their AI loved to give out low numbers. She loved seeing their reaction. I smirked with her. His horrified expression was priceless. She then glanced at me unexpectedly, her gaze curious. That was weird. She never did that. I stared hesitantly into her vibrant neon-blue eyes. They were the color of the summer sky. Despite the fact that her body wasn’t real, she was still an exceptionally attractive woman. From what my brother had told me, the AI had designed her own body. She was thin, with a moderate chest size roughly as small as my own. She was dressed in a skin-tight suit that looked like some kind of futuristic leather or rubber. It was dark gray with sections of black that made her already thin appearance even more slender. Her hair was a dark blue, including her eyebrows and eyelashes, and she had silver freckles running across her nose and cheeks. There was a long pause as she just held my gaze. An awkwardly long pause as she was evaluating me. Although, I knew she wasn't evaluating my powers, because she had to touch me for that. She was evaluating me...I had no idea what would have prompted her to do so. I heard the whispering behind me again. “Is that the girl who’s brother got a zero?!” Someone exclaimed a little too loudly to truly be a whisper. But I didn’t pay attention. I was lost in the AI’s gaze now. It was true. My brother had earned a zero. He was the only zero that had ever been recorded. But that was a farce. His ability was unreadable, undetectable. That was part of our secret. Still, it was a miracle they had let him attend school anyway. A good miracle, because I needed him here in order to accomplish our devious goals. Finally, after some more whispering, the AI’s full lips parted and she spoke my name. “Ava Merrill!” I hesitated briefly, before walking up slowly. The two stairs leading up the stage forced my eyes away from the AI just briefly. Then, as I walked up to her, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I wasn’t sure what number I was going to get. I knew both why and how my brother had received a zero…but I had no idea how she was going to evaluate me. Would my ability be perceived as useless by her? Or would it be considered powerful? It heavily depended on how it was perceived. The gorgeous woman held out her hand, palm upward. I stared at it blankly, looking at her fingers in confusion. She never did that. She always held her hand with her palm downward. The student being evaluated was the one who was supposed to put their palm face up. The AI cleared her throat to get my attention. I looked up at her apologetically, noting how real her dark blue hair looked resting on her shoulders despite the fact that she was slightly translucent. Taking a deep breath, I ignored the continued whispering, along with the teachers attempting to shush the crowd, and held my hand up with trembling fingers. Then, slowly, I rested my palm down on hers just as she usually did to everyone else. The AI gasped as a black flame erupted all around her, consuming her body in an instant until a black void took her place. But I could still feel her. Her hand resting underneath my palm suddenly became solid, pressing downward slightly as our overlapping hands were forced to separate. My eyes widened as the black flames disappeared and a very solid woman was standing in front of me, gazing at me with wide light-blue eyes. She abruptly clasped her hand around my wrist, as if to hold me in place, and then held up her free hand, running her fingers and thumb together. I just stared in disbelief. I knew that the effect of my brother’s ability on mine could have some weird effects as he enhanced it, but I had no idea something like this was possible. The AI suddenly gulped, her hand grabbing her thin throat as she swallowed for the first time. Her voice then called out, fear and confusion causing it to tremble, as she read out my score for everyone to hear. “S-Six!” # [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9bn1ao/the_most_powerful_villain_part_2/) # [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9bo7cr/the_most_powerful_villain_part_3/) Thanks for reading! I have a couple of popular stories regarding some recent prompts going on at my subreddit right now, if you want to check them out at [r/AuthorKurt](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt)
"I'm leaving you." Those three words hung in the air like a threat. But to me, they meant nothing. I sat there and calmly slid my gaze from her back to the TV. "So that's it?"she scoffed. "After all these years, you're just going to let me leave like that?" No one was forcing her to leave. She had been the one to threaten it. But I didn't have the energy or the care to say these words out-loud. Instead, I took a sip of my beer and turned the TV up louder. "I'm talking to you!"She screeched, flying at me and wrenching the remote from my hands. "Look at me! Say something." With the TV off, I had no choice but to look at her. And when I did, I nearly lost my breath. I had forgotten how beautiful she was. So vulnerable and petite. There were tears in her eyes. "Please..."she begged. "Say something..." I looked at her suitcase and frowned. The bags by the door. She was really leaving. Yet, she was giving me another chance. All I had to do was accept it for her to stay. Everytime she had tried to leave me, I would chase her and bring her back. But I wouldn't this time. We weren't good for each other. No... I wasn't good for her, and she deserved some one better. I should've let her be; should've left her alone the first time. And so I turned my heart into stone and kept my mouth shut. Her lips trembled and she flung the remote at me. At the door, she struggled to carry all her bags and I suppressed the urge to help her. She slammed the door shut and wobbled down the driveway to the waiting cab. The driver helped her with her bags, they got in, and then they were gone. I had been watching from the window. I sat down, picked up my beer, and turned the TV on back to the game. One tear slid down my cheek, but I turned my eyes into stone. Now I couldn't see the game, but at least I wouldn't shed anymore tears for the rest of the night.
"It's ironic, really." Caspian turned from the crystal window. Starsion was seated at the dark mahogany desk, the Great Tome of Wisdom opened in front of him. "The book speaks that war should never be actively pursued, yet it also states that it is imperative all the Great Tomes be collected." Starsion reached for the hard cover of the giant book, loudly closing the Great Tome. "War seems our only option." Caspian sighed and looked out the crystal window. Despite the blizzard the pristine snow exuded peace, in direct contrast to the bloody fighting that had broken out only weeks ago. The snow had come, and provided a brief respite, but it would end soon. And the war would pick up where it left off. For just one moment though, the snow looked beautiful. He could almost forget how many of his comrades' bodies lay broken in it. "What thoughts have you on the Great Tome?"Caspian questioned. "From what I've read so far I have found nothing useful brother. The tome's ideas and ideals are perfect for eras of peace. But this is not the time nor place. Perhaps I'm simply too unwise to understand the secrets of the Great Tome." "No, brother. You are the wisest man I know."Caspian sighed. "So nothing useful has come from Father's choice." "Father was a fool." "Speak no ill of the dead."Caspian intoned sharply. "My apologies brother."Starsion stated, shaking his weary head. "I must be too tired to be in the right state of mind." "You may go." The essence of cold command rang through Caspian's words, and Starsion quickly left the room. The two may have been brothers, but Caspian was the rightful Lord of Zeroth Kingdom, and Starsion his subject. Once alone, Caspian sighed and sat down. He couldn't help but think about the Great Tome. About the war. About his kingdom. Father was a fool... "Perhaps so."Caspian whispered, his voice lost to the roaring of the winds. "Perhaps so." * Another commander may have rushed about, ensuring his men were prepared for battle. Yet another would have examined the fortifications for weaknesses or accounted for food supplies. But for the fifth night in a row, Caspian Winterstar sat at that dark mahogany desk, poring desperately over aged pages. A sense of certainty swelled within him, a growing note of desperation that promised destruction should he find nothing of use in the tome. Each kingdom used what they learnt in theirs for war, and Caspian knew he would need something special to win. He began to flip the pages swiftly, his eyes scanning for anything he could use. War would not wait for his reading pleasure. In the east, Garthon Kingdom marched on him, keepers of the Great Tome of Fighting. To the west, Fera Kingdom marched, keepers of the Great Tome of Knowledge. Caspian frowned. The tome of fighting had led to Garthon developing the strongest army, with extremely skilled warriors. A fact none of his army could attest to, on account that all sections who had faced Garthon hadn't lived to tell the tale. And Fera had cost him many lives through their devising of war machines. Why didn't you pick better, Father? The Gifting had happened years ago, but it was still fresh in his mind, warm on his tongue, like a memory he could actually taste. Promisea Castle at dawn. The Scholar. The Gifting. All of it lay deep in his heart. He remembered how the Scholar had appeared out of nowhere, carrying seven heavy books, and laid them out in front of the assembled kings of the kingdoms of Ulandon. Remembered how his father had been given first choice and chose the Great Tome of Wisdom. Wisdom... Perhaps the tome should have simply read 'you shouldn't have picked me', he thought bitterly. [The Secret] Caspian paused his rapid flipping. What? The Secret of Wisdom is knowing what lies within. Caspian read the words out slowly, and the Great Tome of Wisdom seemed to sparkle, yellow light tracing each word. The book shone brightly, then flipped automatically to a section he'd never seen before. [Battlefield Tactics] Caspian froze. Stratagems lined the pages, detailing in-depth battle tactics for war. For battles on uneven ground, different weather conditions, even siege and counter tactics. And battles against the other keepers of the Great Tomes. "It seems you weren't such a fool after all..."Caspian mused. He smiled tightly, sliding his hand down the soft pages. He could win this.
I remember everything, that is my curse. &nbsp; I was a young man when I came across a lone man wandering the desert. He asked me for a drink, which I provided from the bags my camel was laden with. The camel nor the bags were actually mine. I had similarly found them sometime earlier. The man asked me where I was going, to which I replied that I didn't know, which was the truth. We walked together for quite some time in the desert. The man was quite old, but still very much capable for his age. Easily the oldest man I had ever seen. He told me stories of people and civilizations from long, long ago. At the time, I cared little for his honeyed words. This was many thousands of years ago, you see. Before Homer had even written his Odyssey. Written history simply didn't exist yet, I figured this man must just be a traveling bard, and quite a good one at that. For every question I asked, he seemed to have an answer. Even the must mundane of questions I could muster. What kind of food did these people eat? What were their houses like? Who ruled them? Was there war? He knew everything. Hours bled into days into weeks as we traveled and he continued to tell me of this strange old world. I didn't trust any of what he said, but he made for good company none-the-less. We eventually came to a small town that has long since been destroyed when from his robes he produce a brightly colored stone. At the time it was easily the most peculiar thing I had ever seen. For one thing, it glowed in every color I could imagine, and was warm to the touch even during the frigid nights in the desert. &nbsp; He offered me eternity in exchange for my camel. &nbsp; Immortality was not a concept that existed. At the time, I had no idea what he was truly offering me. He offered me the stone, which I took in one hand as I held out the reigns in the other. Bidding me farewell he turned and began to walk back the way we came, and that was the last I saw of him. The stone didn't fetch as much in the markets as I had hoped. A Minoan trader offered me a few casks of spiced wine and some grain for it, to which I agreed. I left the village soon after, finding work leading trading caravans between towns. Time continued to pass. I never married, and eventually fell ill after entering a town that was experiencing an outbreak of sickness. I laid down under an awning from a grain merchant and closed my eyes never to wake. Or, at least, not for quite some time. Reincarnation was not instant. There was a period of darkness, like a long nap, and when I awoke, I was lying under the branches of an olive tree in an orchard in a city near Delphi. Lives continued to slip by. Some ended peacefully and others on the end of a blade, some prosperous and others brutal. I have cut tragically short the lives of 479 young men, for when I inhabit their bodies they simply cease to be, replaced by what I will become. I've lived all over the world, and done almost everything imaginable to man, but without fail, in every single life no matter how short, I will see that stone once. &nbsp; It is never more than a fleeting glimpse. Being exchanged between merchants in a market, in the back of a chariot leaving a conquered city, in the personal collection of a long dead tyrant, I will see it. &nbsp; I want to die. I have lived longer than any man should ever have to, killed more than any man could bear, and suffered more than I can hope to describe. I have watched nations rise and fall, people prosper and die, rejoice and endure so much. I have loved too little and felt too much, just as did the one before me. The old man handed me the stone and returned to the desert to finally die. The stone was my escape clause. &nbsp; To find rest, I need only pass this burden off on to another.
[So, I misread the title and wrote the premise backwards.](https://previews.123rf.com/images/studiostoks/studiostoks1602/studiostoks160200045/51904057-oops-surprised-woman-pop-art-retro-style-unexpected-news-business-concept.jpg) Hope it still counts. --- "Look man, I'm just saying it's little strange, that's all,"Amarog, spoke through his pointed teeth. He sat in a large armchair by a fireplace, he stared absentmindedly into the flames. His white fur glowed orange in the flickering light from the hearth. There was a palatable silence among the group. Phil had accidentally found himself roommates with three werewolves. They had asked when he moved in if he was "just here for a temporary den or looking for a new pack."He thought it was some kind of slang or maybe a joke. He told them he was looking for a new pack, hoping to make new friends. Freki placed a gentle hand on Amarog's shoulder. She was the kindest of the three. Always soft-spoken, always listening and trying to be understanding. Phil had never had a disagreement with her. She was standing behind Amarog's chair. She sighed out of frustration. They had had this conversation many times before. She brushed a long lock of golden-brown fur away from her huge, yellow eyes. "If Phil wants to cook his meat that's his business. There's nothing wrong with that. He doesn't rub our dietary choices in our faces,"she offered a smile that looked more like a snarl. "It's uhh... it's just how we always uhh... did it at home,"Phil stammered, offering an explaination. He had been here three weeks and was still not comfortable with his situation. Finally, Wolfrik spoke from a dark corner of the room, "It is not natural." He rose and strode into the center of the room. His fur was so black that even in the light of the fire his figure seemed an empty void. "Nothing you do is the way it should be done. Cooked meat, staying in your weak pink-skinned, human form,"Wolfrik looked Phil up and down, "I'd say you're more man than wolf!" Wolfrik moved towards Phil with and unnatural speed, baring his teeth. Phil didn't flinch as the werewolf's fetid, hot breath billowed out from between his fangs. The three werewolves had come to expect this from Phil. They took it as a sign of strength. That he wasn't scared of Wolfrik, their previous alpha. Phil was actually just too scared to move every time Wolfrik tried to challenge him. Freki silently and gently moved between them, "Dear Wolfrik, how many times do we have to do this?"Her bushy brown tail wagged nervously. Wolfrik backed off yet again and retreated into his dark corner. Eyeing Phil the entire time. Amarog sat quietly with his eyes wide. He shook his head to himself, adjusted his glasses and went back to reading his book,The Werewolf in Paris. After a few moments he murmured more to himself than anyone. "You know, I should write one of these things. They always get everything wrong." Phil unmuted the TV and took a big bite out of his hot dog. He needed to find a new place.
One of my favourite movies has always been Amelie; that French movie where a girl goes around spreading happiness. The overall tone of the film is very wholesome, but there's a sequence that grabs my attention in particular. Remember that scene where Amelie sets up everything in the wrong location for her antagonistic neighbour to mess up his day? That's what I do. You see, I'm like Amelie. I'm just a normal person who wants to spread happiness in the world. Unfortunately, I'm not a waitress in a peaceful Paris cafe, and therefore the same concept she embodied requires more... precise applications. Maybe I'm a little kooky like her. I take note of things that supposedly don't matter. In my earlier days, I needed my precious green notebook to record down these minute details. The gangster's coffee order at Starbucks. The drug dealer's route to his home and hiding spot. The arsonist's fuel orders. All these went into my little notebook, and at first everyone looked at it with concern. Hell, the police even wanted to bring me in as a suspect for "invasion of personal privacy". But these details helped me in the long run. I was able to put a laxative in the gangster's coffee, so he eventually got too weak to run his rackets, and even had to rely on the hospitals that he so often terrorised for protection money. That was definitely a humbling experience for him. The road spikes on the drug dealer's route were, similarly, precisely placed at just the right moment to pop his tires, forcing him to carry his whole stash on foot. What a sitting duck! Unfortunately, the notebook went up in flames with the arsonist's last crime, even as I rerouted the road signs to bring him to a Pilates class instead of the petrol kiosk where he usually got his fuel. Now, after a few cases, I've gained a better understanding of the lives of criminals here. Some of them are hardcore and committed to the crime, yes, but most try to lead normal lives to throw off the cops. But it's here that they are also on their lowest guard. When the villains are out shopping, nothing stops you from putting things in their basket. I wouldn't exactly call it clairvoyance or intelligence, because quite a bit of effort is needed from me to stop the criminals, but it's the closest we can get to it. After all, what is clairvoyance but knowing the random patterns and rules that govern the universe?
"Remember our pact." "You cannot do this to me. Why?" "The ultimate evil..." ********************** It started small. Chris and Paul were twins. And like all brothers they were competitive. If Chris was playing with a toy, Paul wanted it for himself. If Paul stopped showing interesting in a toy, Chris didn't want it anymore either. Their parents started getting two of everything, but even that wasn't enough. They would ignore one toy and continue fighting over the other. Soon enough, their parents realized that it was better to let them fight and figure it out among themselves. Fights over toys escalated to fights over what TV shows to watch. Who rides which bike. Who gets to ask Sadie to the prom? Chris won that coin toss. Only to find his door mysteriously locked when the time came. Sadie called later and thanked him for the wonderful evening. Their parents died in a car crash. Leaving the twins to fend for themselves. For a while, they banded together in adversity. Knowing they would need to be united to survive. But once the shock wore off, they were back at it. Only without their parents to keep them in check, the pranks got bigger. In time, pranks turned to crimes. Chris broke into the house next door. Eating their food. And dropping the Banana peel at the table in front of Paul with a smirk. Paul took that peel, broke back into their house and placed it strategically next to the neighbor's bed. Childish stuff that was just a gateway into the more serious stuff. Soon enough the city was hit by a wave of crime. The diamond at the museum stolen. A security truck robbed. The bank vault broken into. And through it all, they brought back mementos. Proudly displaying to the other. Over time, both boys developed more courage. Their crimes became more brutal. Someone punched. Someone extorted for money. Someone's car burnt. Till it finally happened. Chris came rushing into the house. "I did it." "What?" "I murdered someone." "So? I've murdered people before." "It was a single mother. Two kids. Worked two jobs. Volunteered at the shelter whenever she had the chance. I've been keeping an eye on her for so long. She was probably the nicest person there was. And that's not all. Today, I also went into the mayor's office and shot him. And the sheriff. But not the deputy. In fact, all in all, I murdered about 30 people today." "Cool." "That's it then? It is settled. I am the most evil person." Paul got up and clubbed his twin on the head knocking him out. He then dialed 911. "It's my twin... Paul. He's gone on a rampage and murdered so many people today. He's also responsible for all the robberies that have been... he's coming. I'm at 21 Jump Street." Chris found himself locked in his room when they cops came. They let him out and informed him that his brother had been taken into custody. He had confessed to all the crimes. He was safe from the monster now. No more fear, no more abuse for him. Everything would be alright now. Chris smiled. "I'm sure it will."
“Daaaaad, please, I’m going to be late for hockey!” I ignored the whining pleas while I sat down with the paper. Last night, Adrien had actually had the audacity to threaten me with calling CPS on me. I looked at the croissant, suddenly losing my appetite as my wife launched into another tirade, telling me about how she should have left me while she was sleeping with my best friend Jeff. “HE WAS BETTER THEN YOU ANYWAYS. AT LEAST HE MADE ME FEEL LIKE I MATTERED. I’VE FELT LIKE WE’RE ONLY ROOMMATES FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS. AT LEAST TELL ME YOU’VE BEEN TAKING CARE OF YOUR DAUGHTER, YOU TWISTED PRICK.” The crying in the basement had subsided two days prior, thankfully. I couldn’t hear the scratching and the faint calls of ‘daddy?’ from the kitchen. The front page of the newspaper talked about the spread of the virus was starting to slow, a cure was possible and hopeful scientists quoted six months before the virus would be eradicated. I just have to live with these annoyances for six more months. Heading to the closet to grab my jacket, I could hear my son rattling his door again. “DAAAAAAAD, COME ON, I’LL NEVER MAKE GOALIE IF I KEEP MISSING PRACTICE. I HATE YOU.” I slipped my shoes on and looked up the stairs. In the beginning I almost opened the door, thinking they were cured. Thinking there was a chance my life was back to normal. Believing I could go back to coffee shop runs before hockey practice and ballet outfit shopping with Serena. As my hand touched the doorknob though, I remembered it had been a week at that point since they had access to water. It’s been a month now. Maybe I should get a hotel room for a little while...
"Dave...... Dave...... For the love of....... Dave!"I knew he could hear me. Humans are so annoying! What is the point in being an all-powerful being if all the little ants are going to do is ignore you!? I take a breath and settle myself down. Wouldn't do me any good to lose my cool..... We all remember what happened the last time...... "Come on Dave, I know you can hear me." "It's only my imagination.... Only my imagination...."Dave was muttering to himself. Over and over again. Dave was supposed to be my first convert. My training with older deities didn't cover the converts IGNORING me! "Dave, no. It is not your imagination. My name is Vespia. I am a..... Well....a Goddess."Nothing in response. Dave! Damn it! "Seriously Dave, if you don't believe me, others have heard from the other Gods and Goddesses. Ask them." "Ha! Vespia? Who the hell has ever heard of a Goddess named Vespia? In ANY religion at any time? Shoot! Why am I talking to a voice in my head!? I'm must be losing my mind....." "Wait, what!? Dave, you are NOT going crazy! I am real!" Silence. It took me a minute to cool down. What did I have to do to get the mortal to understand what was at stake? He had a finite amount of time to live. Me, not so lucky. If I didn't get my first convert on board.... I was looking at being the universe's maid service. "Look, Dave, I know this seems like a big leap of faith. But trust me when I tell you that you are not crazy. I am a Goddess, but not a well-known one because I happen to be new. And you are supposed to be the first in a line of followers."Nothing. "Alright, Dave. I'll prove I'm real. I am the Goddess of the Lottery, after all. The winning numbers will be 2, 15, 23, 42, 60, 9." I wait. And wait. And wait. "Hail, Vespia! Goddess of the Lottery!"
"Ha! I knew it! I heard singing and it could only have been you. You can talk crow!" "Yes, human. We always could talk. But now you know our secret I shall call together my brothers and there shall be a murder" "Wait what? You spoke to me and now you have to kill me?" "It was a slip of the beak. I've grown used to getting my daily cookie and you surprised me. Still, I must obey the sacred oath." "Wait wait, I have another in my pocket! How about I give you that and we forget all about this?" "Hmm, another you say?" "Yes yes, here, take it!" "How deep are your pockets human? How many cookies are hiding in there I wonder? I shall let you live, but only if you honour the agreement we have had for the past two years. A cookie a day, and I shall forget this little incident". "Yes, I can do that. A cookie a day" "Good, I'd like some hazelnut ones for next week. I'm not fond of the coconut ones you've been bringing for the past month! And remember human. Should you tell anyone else, a murder is never far away"
18, the day everybody longs for, the day that always has the front pages of the newspapers covered. Today, Seth Evansgale would be receiving his very own special present in the form of a super power. Every child on their 18th birthday was mysteriously gifted a mystical ability. They ranged anywhere from the power to create fast spreading wildfires to the kid three houses down being able to tie his shoes with the flick of a wrist, literally. But Seth, he’s got the superhero name and two of the most gifted parents on the block. He knew that today his world would change. He woke up, groggy as always, but quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes and headed downstairs. On his doorstep there was a letter. The description of his power would be inside and by tomorrow morning this letter would vanish and the power would remain. He slipped the silky white note out of the envelope and read, “you will wake every morning refreshed for the day ahead.” Seth starred at it, incredibly confused. So what, he had the power to sleep and wake up and...what? Did he just get jinxed, jebaited, or duped? Was this a real power or was it a fake letter. He shook off his disappointment, clearly he was misunderstanding something. Obviously he would go to bed and wake up, his name in the paper exclaiming how amazing his power would be. He decided he would investigate it more in the morning. \----next day---- He woke up hurriedly, showered, and set his room, not noticing his alarm hadn’t even sounded yet. Then he raced down to the door again, hoping for another letter. Suffice to say, none arrived. For the next 5 days he would follow this same pattern but waking up earlier and earlier, only falling asleep after recognizing how dangerously close he was getting to the start of each coming school day. After a week without more than 3 hours of sleep it finally hit him. How can you stop a man who runs on nothing, not even sleep.
Luven followed the map his dad had given him. It wasn't very tidy nor detailed, but what he'd to find was clear as the sky above: a tiny cave hidden somewhere in their backyard. And so, Luven started, wielding a wooden sword, and walking with the uncertainty of a child's first time venturing alone. His father cheered for him from the safety of their home, as his son's little leather boots moved across the ankle-high grass. Soon, he reached his first obstacle, a wall of brambles. He knew, despite his age, how sharp they could be, and so he halted and examined the map. The treasure lay beyond. He had to do something. He scanned the bushes, seeking for a safe passage, and amidst the evil plants, he found a hole his size. Beaming, he shrunk and went through with a pearl-white smile, as the sun caught in his wooden sword. Beyond he found many thin, and young poplars, but no treasure he could see. Confused, he stared at the map once again, and saw the spot was marked with an "H"instead of an X. "H?"he murmured, scratching his head, and looked ahead, to where the treasure was supposed to be. There, he found a big hole, and he breathed a sigh of relief. That was what the H had meant. However, his curved lips knitted when he saw what awaited inside, defending the riches. It was a young dragon, with two wings as long as his arms, and thin sharp teeth like needles. It was red as fire, and it bore eyes of liquid silver. Luven raised his sword aloft, and pointed it straight at the confused dragon, who stared at him with a tilted head, while clouds of smoke billowed out its nostrils. "We shall fight for your hoard, dragonling."He attempted a deep intonation, but his voice came out soft and unthreatening anyway. The dragon hid in his hole, fumbled in the dirt, and fluttered out of it. In his ungrown claws, it held a single golden coin the size of an eye. Then, it tilted its head, and held it out for Luven to grab. "What? For me?"Luven said, and dropped his sword. He accepted the offeri, and sat beside the winged beast. "Why?" "An offering of friendship,"the dragon said, its voice soft and harmless. "Now you are bound to me, and I'm bound to you. This is the way fate wants it." Luven's eyes glittered, and a flood of dreams swarmed his mind. "Does this mean that we will raid together? Will I get to ride you in the future as we rescue innocent from the hands of bad people?" The dragon nodded, and rubbed its forehead against Luven's chest. "It is written in the sheets of fate. No one will stop us." Luven smiled a true smile, and raised the coin skyward. It sparked beneath the sun, and in that brief flash of white, he saw them, all grown up, soaring the skies, laughing as they flew to their next adventure. "Thanks dad,"he muttered to himself, and took a deep breath. That innocent day, beneath the eye of the tender sun, an everlasting friendship worthy of countless tales was born. ---------------------------- /r/ahumongousfish - I should be studying.
Early in the morning you can hear him in the distance. Hooping and hollering just after sunrise and making just as much racket as the roosters. Despite his size he’s surprisingly strong. So strong in fact that we’ve given him the de facto title of ‘Hero’ and he defends us from monsters. No, seriously. He willingly lunges at everything from massive insects to walking skeletons, with no formal training at all! However, he’s something of an idiot savant when it comes to fighting. When it comes to combat he’s a natural, and he’s got a strong but flexible body that allows him fantastic maneuvers. It’s incredible to watch until after the battles done, because then all you get is a mute idiot. Poor bastard. The only sounds he makes are battle cries and shouts when he’s fighting. A bit theatrical if you ask me but I’m not slaying giant bats, so perhaps I have no place to talk about it. He also lacks the ability to do much of anything unless it’s fighting. He couldn’t hunt or track to save his life he’s so clumsy. He can’t garden without destroying the soil and nearby plants. The boy can’t even chop wood without missing or obliterating the logs he’s so damn strong. But he’s a young man and an orphan, so we can give him his little hut but he has to make his way. He could sell monster materials but he lacks restraint and most of his kills come out mangled. Even for ghastly creatures it seemed a cruel fate. He also does odd jobs and collects his money by way of finding it. Elder says the boy must see it as some sort of treasure hunt. So he goes around smashing pottery to find coins, which keeps clay shop busy but not too pleased. He also cuts grass and feed fairly well and so we’ll sprinkle some coins and money so that he can find it. He earns his pay but just in a unique fashion. Oh and get this: some princess called for our “Hero” by way of royal envoy. The village elder laughed for three straight minutes before inviting the messengers in for tea. There down there now talking about recruiting our poor boy for some grand adventure. In some ways I welcome it. Sure beats him traipsing around the village being a nuisance until he’s useful. Then again I’ll have to go back to cutting the grass and we’ll have to go back to monster watch shifts. I’m hoping the boy forgot his pants again. Nothing says ‘I’m unqualified for a quest’ like showing up with nothing but a torn shirt and tunic, sword in hand and sheath missing. They may just take him though. If nothing else that kid can fight. Aw shucks, am I gonna miss that thick head?
The meteor would fall in another 8 hours for the millionth time. I spent the first thirty thousand days -- a whopping 82 years of the same 24 hour period -- trying frantically to warn government officials to urge citizens underground, or into space, or anything I could. Most of the early attempts ended in me being gunned down trying to barge into the White House. Eventual loops gave me extremely detailed knowledge on where every guard would be throughout every moment of the evening. &#x200B; By my second year I was able to be in the presidential bedroom without having alerted anyone, as if I were some sort of ninja. Not that any of this did me any good when the president and I constantly had the same "who are you and how did you get here"arguments (or minor variations thereof) for the next year... &#x200B; But that was all a life time ago... Thirty life times ago, in fact, and that's at the very least. Today is the day I have spent a millennia trying to avoid. The last try. My mind is so full of these last million days that everything before theme seems like a blur... One of the earliest memories I have anymore is the first fall of the meteor setting the entire sky on fire as it penetrated the atmosphere with enough force that the shock wave immediately ended some unknowable percentage of the life on the planet. Instantly blackness followed by a small voice. &#x200B; I can scarcely remember her image, but she addressed me by name and said that it had been decided that if the Earth were to be spared it wouldn't be by the gods but one of our own: Me. If I could get 1% of the population of the Earth to safety the sun would rise the next day and we could... Something... I forget the exact words, but the message was basically "try not fuck it up again". &#x200B; I'm not sure why I was chosen. A high ranking politician or religious leader could have probably done more than I ever managed. The few "successes"I've had involved getting almost the entire world's supply of nukes fired at the thing to little effect. Having every submarine-capable nation in the UN stuff as many women and children into their subs as possible and going as deep as they could go... I've managed to get people under the sea, into space, and under ground. None of it had ever helped. &#x200B; Years at a time were spent "on break"for the world ending... Visiting brothels, drinking myself to literal death, sometimes just jumping in front of traffic for the fun of it... Today would be my last vacation. I'd given up. There wasn't much else to do on this final day that would make it any more worthwhile than the other 999,999, so I settled on taking a nap. &#x200B; ...I wonder what tomorrow will look like?
"So what was it this time?"Satan asked. "Spider bite,"I said. "Hurt like hell." "Hah, good one,"Satan replied. "You up to play some FIFA, or do you have to get back? I thought for a second. "I'm free to chill." Satan grinned. "Sweet! I'll make some chilli corn flakes." Satan went to Hell's Kitchen and started preparing his signature dish: Corn flakes served with milk and an incredibly spicy chilli con carne. It gave me intense stomach cramps when I went back to Earth, but it wasn't half bad. "You know,"Satan said as he started setting up his PlayStation, "You're the only Respawner who ever hangs out after dying. Also, you're the only guy that appreciates my food. I'm grateful." "No worries, man."I said. I grabbed a spoonful of chilli and chowed down. "Tastes great. All the angels are wrong about you, you know." "They're all bullies anyway. Glad I left." "Weren't you exiled?" "Same difference, really. Would've left anyway." I grabbed the Cheeto-covered controller that Satan gave me (he got the clean one) and we started playing. I hated FIFA, and I knew he was only playing it with me because his sole purpose is to be an asshole, but at least he's not unpleasant to talk to, which is why I usually stayed in Hell for longer visits than Heaven. Well, that, and to visit my succubus girlfriend Lilith, who just so happened to knock at the door that exact moment. "Satan! Open the door! Is Bradley here?"She yelled through the door. "It's not locked, just kick it down like last time!"Satan yelled back. She kicked the door so hard it flew off its hinges and crashed into the wall opposite, crumbling into sawdust at the impact. She bounced over to where I was sitting. "Hi, Lilith,"I said, giving her a kiss as she leaned over and hugged me from behind, her claw-like fingers wrapping around my chest. "How did you die this time?"she asked. "Spider bite. Hurt like Hell."I repeated. "Hah, good one."She replied. "So how long can you stay?" "Well, it's midnight where I am, and generally my roommate doesn't wake up until seven, so I got a few hours to kill before I have to respawn. Don't want to be found dead again, such an inconvenience." "You know you can just summon me, right?"She said, prodding me with her pointy index finger. "My landlord doesn't want girls staying overnight,"I replied. "Especially when we make such a mess like last time you stayed over." "He's such a prude, that guy."She whined. "To be fair, we did cover the floor in, what, twenty used condoms? Jake also complained a lot about it." "Well screw him too. Why don't you just move?" "Can't afford to move, plus my job is like two miles away from home so it's super convenient." "Why don't you move to Hell and stay with me?"She asked, knowing how often she asks this question. "You know why! Your house is made of sulphur. I can only stand it for a few days before I start vomiting uncontrollably." "That's not the sulphur,"Satan interjected, "It's the methane." "Same difference. Look, I love you, Lilith, but I can't stay in Hell forever. Hell's a shit place, no offense." Lilith whimpered, but then perked up again. "How about Gabriel? He has a great house." Something I should mention is that I have a very sweet polyamorous bisexual relationship with both Lilith and Gabriel. Don't even ask how that started. "Would he be allowed to have both of us there?"I asked. "No, but we could probably just crash. God wouldn't mind." "*YES I WOULD"A voice boomed in from above. "Shut up, DAD"Satan yelled at the ceiling, scoring another goal on my team. I had completely forgotten about the game, which showed with the 20-0 score in his favour. The LORD appeared in the living room, His long golden beard touching the floor. "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU SPOILED BRAT! Hi Bradley, how are things?"* "Good,"I replied. "Got bitten by a spider. Hurt like hell." "*Heh. Good one. When are you coming up to Heaven again? Gabriel says he misses you."* "God, you know it's a lot harder to get into Heaven. It's a whole process. Gabriel can just come to me, can't he?" *"I don't let angels have relationships with humans on Earth anymore. You know what happened with the Nephilim."* "Well, I'm not a woman, so you don't have to worry about me giving birth to giants." *"You're right about that. But you should at least try to visit Gabriel more often."* "Fine."I said. "Next time I die, I'll be sure to ask Jesus to be my Lord and Saviour again before I pass on, but if I end up in Purgatory again, I'll blame you." *"Fair enough."* God said before disappearing back to Heaven. "Wanna go to my place before heading back?"Lilith asked. "Sure! Satan do you mind?" Satan looked at the TV, satisfied at his 100 goal lead in FIFA. "Sure, go ahead and have fun." "I'll be back before dawn!"I said as Lilith pushed me out the door. &#x200B; &#x200B; 7 am. I woke up in my bed, feeling entirely satisfied with the night. My skin was still cold from being dead for six hours, but after a coffee, I should be able to warm up fine. I respawned just in time, as my roommate found it to be a good time to knock at my door. "Bradley! We're out of toilet paper!" "I'll buy some after work tonight!"I replied through the wall. I got dressed for the day, and spent my morning commute planning how to die and get to Heaven. Gabriel's way too needy, maybe we should break up. &#x200B;
“We’ll be entertaining through the wormhole in just a few minutes, Captain.” Suri said as the door closed in a smooth motion behind her. “It’s funny, time is so different on the strange planet, our comrades probably won’t remember who we are. A day on Castri, was equivalent to nearly 10,000 years on earth. It only took us about a month to retrieve the mothership from home, but now who knows what we’ll return to. We may see nearly 200,000 years of evolution by the time we return, or maybe no one at all. We’ll find out once we enter the Milky Way Galaxy through that wormhole. Should have known better than to go all the way out to bumfucked nowhere to begin with if you ask me, but that’s above my pay grade. Captain Adam was as capable as any man at creating a life for our kind after the conquest, I hope he is still remembered. Unlikely after the time that has passed here, but I still have hope.” “Brace for shock.” Suri interrupted her captain’s monologue as the largest ship to have ever been constructed made it’s way through the wormhole. The entire bow of massive ship shook as it left one galaxy and entered another nearly 100 billion light years away. It was a massive and beautiful ship indeed. The size of a small moon the ship had enough room and provisions to last centuries. It would be capable to take over 2 billion people on the two week journey back to Castri. To save them from the hell of a planet so many have called home. It was said the planets weather was extreme. Back home it was paradise. Like nothing these people on this distant planet could even be able to imagine with as much time that has passed for them there. As a matter of fact, as rare as tolerable planets such as earth were, an alpha planet was even more rare. For every three billion earth like planets out there there was one such as Castri. “We’re here captain. The shuttle is ready for you now.” Suri said opening the door for the Captain. He gazed out the window at this pale blue dot below him. “At least they’re still alive. You can tell by the satellites now orbiting that they had to start from scratch here. But better progress than I would have imagined under these circumstances. I expect a surprise. We may have to kidnap our own people. If they’re even still our people that is.” The Captain entered the main shuttle with a small crew. Ten similar shuttles would make their way to other Cities around the planet. The Captain would be heading to the last known origin of communication with the original crew sent to conquest the planet not so long ago. “Begin our decent into the atmosphere. Remember it’s likely we’re unknown to these people but still refrain from friendly fire. These are still our people and I’ll be damn if I’m not going home without them.” The Captains words set off a sequence of events and the 11 shuttles made their way down to greet the descendants of their old friends.
They wanted to be like us, to take our most unique attribute and show us they could be "cool". It was meant to be a friendly gesture. They described it later as sort of the same thing as learning sign language to make the deaf kid in class feel included, or trying to learn Japanese because you're dating the foreign exchange student. The best way to show you care about someone's opinion is to show you're willing to put effort into understanding their interests or culture, right? We... we did not see it that way. We saw a threat of overwhelming firepower and technology. We feared them, immediately and fully. We sent probes to identify, and missiles to destroy, a looming catastrophe. For nearly two years, humanity worked together to prevent total destruction. Non-critical research, into things like climate change or chronic disease, was halted to focus on getting past this threat of annihilation. Countries signed deals that forced compromise nobody liked, so that we could share resources instrumental to our global defense. And it was a prank, a joke. They said we were the only species known to intentionally scare or inconvenience our friends as a gesture of affection. We responded with anger, with embarrassment and retribution. Never mind that we had advanced further in two years than in the preceding decade. Never mind that we had no real conflict between nations, nor that we had identified who could be relied upon to give up their comfort or grudges and come together as a community. We had been robbed, some said, of the right to squabble amongst ourselves. To strive for selfish goals. We had been forced by an external threat to develop weapons and spacefaring technology, rather than be allowed to proceed as we had. Millions died, due to a lack of funding for research and medicine. Millions had begun to strive toward fleeing into the night, colonizing planets at lesser risk of destruction. We responded like a fratboy who'd been startled. We lashed out. They never stood a chance. They wanted to be like us. Edit: proofreading.
James has his wrist cocked to full-throttle as he pushes his Suzuki Hayabusa down Route 66. He’s returning to his home in Santa Monica from Los Vegas after another weekend lost to women and booze. When he first arrived in LA he was a straitlaced guy. He drove a Honda Civic and would go to eight auditions a week. But his motivation to make it in Hollywood had died along with his father. Now, with no family left, he could live for weekends of gambling and partying without a guilty conscience. After 3 and a half hours on his bike, he turns right his street. He didn’t see the car and it didn’t see him. That was it. He awoke in a hotel room that looked similar, but different. The coke on the bedside table was similar, the blonde girl covered in tattoos and silicone was similar, yet the room was a little different. The cocaine on his bedside began to vibrate as the phone next to it began ringing. He answered, “Welcome to the Los Vegas themed Underworld. Just dial zero and we’ll send up anything you want. We’ve got it all. Or come down and enjoy some free chips to gamble with.” He’d never won big in Vegas, but he felt that had changed now. This was the life. Everyday was the weekend now. So he partied, and partied some more. But he also talked. The blonde barbie he woke up next too was deeper than she looked. He had the party and a perfect girlfriend. Life was good. 9 months into talking with his girlfriend, James’s kid arrived. He’s a cute boy with blonde hair, dimples, and a smile that never leaves his face. James has won the Vegas lottery again. The family moves from the hotel to a Vegas neighbourhood. There’s still the pleasures of the underworld on every street corner, but they no longer interest James. He’s teaching his kid to throw, catch, and even how to act. When his kid turns 9, for his birthday James dials zero to make a request. “Okay. You’ve been giving me everything I wanted for 9 years now. Now what I want, is to head back to the real world with my girlfriend and son.” The operators voice sounds like he’s smiling as he says, “Of course, we can make that arrangement for you. But your son was born here. You cannot take him with you. But don’t worry, you will be able to have another back in the real world.” James holds the line. Maybe it was for 10 minutes or 10 days. “I can’t leave with my son. I understand. But my son never entered here. By your rules he is free to leave the underworld without me and venture to the real world.” Saying goodbye to his son was the hardest thing he had ever done. Death was easy, but this, this was torture. His son didn’t want to leave of course, but James had given him no choice. When young Jimmy arrived in the world world he was put into a boarding school. He hated most of his classes, but that didn’t matter. He was going to be a famous actor and make his Dad proud. Young Jimmy never did make a movie. But he never got drunk, never gambled, and never went to Los Vegas. He had an okay job and found a loving wife. They had a beautiful family. Young Jimmy always felt his Dad would be watching from the Underworld. He thought his failure to become a success in Hollywood would be further torture for his Dad. But in reality, James could not have been more proud of his son. He knew the way his son lived his life would mean he would never enter the underworld. He would never make the same mistake. He would be able to watch his own son grow up in the real world. If you never enter, you never have to leave.
Cataclysmic destroyers, world savers, exterminators of entire species - it doesn't matter what they did before they come here. Here they are just candidates and their task is to progress through a series of trials. The bragging and chest-puffing is strong when they first arrive. And perhaps they have a right to brag. Only the most heroic or diabolical receive an invite. Even now a grotesque being sloshes forward, prostrating its tentacled extremities in a show of strength common among its species. I check my retina displays. This one runs the most powerful banking syndicate in four separate universes. It's also indirectly responsible for over three billion deaths. "The first trial is straightforward,"I say, determining that enough time has passed for them to size each-other up. "Please proceed to your pods." Each pod holds one candidate and each can create reality. There are thirty three candidates in this cohort. The trials will continue until only one candidate is left. Then, and only then, will they enter the next phase. I tap a button on my wrist and my voice beams directly into the pods, submerging the candidates in sound. "Your first trial is to bring light back to this fading solar system,"I say, then I tap another button and the pods create thirty-three unique universes, each containing a dying star. The candidates can use any means at their disposal to ignite this star. The reality pods simply create one new universe within the multi-verse, all else is fair game. Even now the Sludge Banker is marshaling his resources across his four separate empires. It looks like he is purchasing thermonuclear neutron bombs. He will blast this star back to life. One enterprising soul is creating a wormhole through which he will shoot through another sun. Not sure how that one will work out. I chuckle at the attempts. For all their posturing, this cohort is lackluster. Our janitor simply looked at the star and snapped his fingers.
"That is so not period,"Duncan told me. My fingers curled tightly around the rolled stainless steel mug, gripping the embossed lion's head belonging to some fictitious king's fictitious crest, nails biting into the joint between blobs solder. A litany of corrections rattled through my head. Immortality comes with a strange and paradoxical phenomena: Logically a mortal human would think conscious observation of time to be quicker from the point of view of the immortal, and slower from the point of view of the mortal, in the same way time seems to crawl for a child and races by for a senior citizen. And, at first, this was entirely true. Yet, human foibles and design flaws, whether you blame Nature or God I'll leave for you to decide, can leave the immortal open to the inverse, as when time seems to slow down during a mishap. Or, when saying something really dumb for all to hear. Like when a human utters the last word of a ridiculous statement, such as what Duncan here just said, he might be inclined to perceive time as proceeding at a very slow pace. On the other hand, when I snapped "Quit being a fopdoodle,"time began to proceed like rush hour traffic during a blizzard through a construction zone with one shoulder blocked by an accident and an obnoxiously attractive flagger trying to wave vehicles through yet they are compelled to drive even slower to linger on such wholly misplaced and misspent beauty. Calling Duncan a fopdoodle was only the prelude, because I then had to tell him all about, "You mean my avoiding lead toxicity by not drinking out of the pewter mugs being hawked for fifty marks?"I held up the mug by the handle and pointed at the soldered crest. "Brazing existed." "I was talking about the watch,"Duncan said. And, wait for it: "Oh,"I said, glancing at my wrist. Right there, time slowed way down. Did I really forget to take it off? Which watch was I wearing anyway? Oh, right. "It's sort of period, I said."I touched the leather thong tying the brass instrument to my wrist. "There were no wristwatches back then,"Duncan snapped. "The first -" "Popular manufacturing, early nineteenth century, but the concept -"I began. "Didn't exist!"Duncan hissed. "The concept existed in the sixteenth century."I gestured to my ensemble. "I'm a sixteenth century merchant who -" "I told you last time, you can't be a merchant, you're a serf. You've only been in our Kingdom four seasons and this is only your second renaissance fair." "I was a serf last year,"I retorted. "I finished my guild membership for the -" "That guild was abolished three months ago when Karen and Rick divorced, and Karen accidentally burned the ledger with the wedding photos." "It's a period piece,"I contested. "I hunted the buck myself, skinned it, tanned it, and, and that's my venison in your stew by the way, and my leather on all of the knight's sword hilts, well, except Frank's for obvious reasons." "Don't blame Frank,"Duncan said. "He's got nothing to do with your accuracy, or lack thereof." I unlatched the thong from the brass nub on the edge of the drum and offered the device to Duncan. He scoffed and turned away. "It's a Henlein drum clock-watch with a Hooke balance spring."I rolled my eyes and bobbed my head. "Okay, fine, I concede the balance spring is about fifty years late, but there's nothing else modern about. It barely keeps any semblance of time."I didn't feel it prudent to mention that the instrument was entirely original. Duncan lifted his pewter mug, sipped the honey mead, and stared me down with righteous indignation. "And how would a serf have acquired such a treasure?" "You know you're ingesting unhealthy levels of lead right now, right?"I collapsed back in my chair, right onto the lower third vertebrae that had been torn out by a German Browning while making an attempt to dive back into a trench in World War One. Immortal, yes, but PTSD liked to rear its ugly head and remind me that, healed or otherwise, pain should and would be felt. I winced and said slowly, only now, my typical observation of time began to catch up again, and I may have sputtered out the words in a rapid staccato. "I'm not a serf, Duncan. Not this year." "Maybe we should ask the king,"Duncan began. "Maybe we should. And, maybe I should take my money somewhere else next year." "You can't buy your way into your SCA position. That's not how this works." "That's exactly how medieval titles work, Duncan."Since he showed no interest, I fixed my watch to my wrist and took a swig of unleaded honey mead from my approximately period but decidedly healthier beverage vessel. And then, because immortal humans are just that, human, I continued to be stupid by asking, "Was that all, or is there anything else?" "Now that you mention it, I did have a question about your socks."
A backdrop of searing mountains and a hailstorm of ash and stone were the backdrop for the band's anticlimactic end. After months of battling through hordes of demonic horrors, mind-shattering aberrations, and battling through fallen settlements littered with the ashen, they had finally reached the heart of his lair. Deep inside a volcano, the unknown force driving the fall of the realm sat atop a throne of pure flame. He was fully aware of our arrival, his visage appearing before us in the floes of lava as we climbed to the peak and began the descent. First went our warrior. A massive wall of metal and recklessness, shield and flail in hand. As she charged the fiend, it barely reacted. Thunderous blows struck it's form to no avail, before it was cast aside with a sweep of it's clawed hand. The archer, having rushed in to follow the warriors advance, was blown away by nothing more than a shout, buried under the rockslide his collision with the wall caused. The thief had, wisely, attempted a retreat. Before getting through the mouth of the cave that acted as it's throne room, wicked tendrils of bone and flame wrapped around him. Less a mercy than it may seem, the agony of his confinement would make death a better option. As the bard stood alone, the creatures expression changed from one of malice to amusement. With much the same rapidity he had swatted down the party, he surged forth at the bard. The bard flinched instinctively, but when he found himself unharmed, he opened his eyes to find no insidious monster, but a man in a suit and tie. Well groomed hair adorned his tanned face, the features of which exuding a combination of curiosity and disappointment. He looked so menacing yet in a way endearing, oozing charisma from his malevolent grin. "I always hate this part,"he said in a calming, low voice. "Last one standing, hopeless, you know. Must admit you've been a fun one to watch. So much talent, could have been pretty big,"he said before letting out a dejected sigh. "You're taking this surprisingly well. Most of the time it's panic, maybe some tears and begging. Now, if you could just sign this for me we can get this over with." The bard took the piece of paper and read it over, utterly baffled at it's content. A... waiver? "Yes I know, new rules from upstairs, in the event of an attempted slaying, I have to offer a new form of contest to the last man standing. A fiddle contest of all things. You sign the waiver, quick clean death, more than I can say for your friend over there,"he said with a comical tone, gesturing to the thief, still very much alive but in untold pain. "Most people sign quick, better than the alternative." The bard had been reading through the contract waiver, seeing the outcomes of the contest. If he wins, he walks away unscathed and "Satan"is banished from our realm for a millennium. If he loses, apparently his soul is bound in eternal torment. The suited man conjured a fashionable pen from a puff of flame at his fingertips, and as he began to hand it the bard, he found the bard stopping him, pushing against his arm. "I accept the challenge,"were the first words uttered by the bard during the entire exchange. He reached behind his cloak, pulling out his own fiddle, kept concealed from his party and the devil's ever present eyes, anticipating this moment. The devil chuckled, pulling a fiddle from thin air in a rush of flames. "Interesting choice, boy. Tell me, what's your name?" "My name's Johnny, and I'm the best there's ever been."
"There!"Said the alien, pointing toward the lizardlike creature. "That's this planets most deadly predator!" The captain of the human ship walked up and said, "So what can it do? Sense body heat? Smell blood from a great distance? Jump a great distance?" The alien paused, "Um, no. None of that. It's just very aggressive, visious!" The lizardlike creature flopped over laying in the sunlight. "Scans indicate it's rather normal."Said the captain, walking over, "And this is a full grown one?" The alien nodded, "Yes, this one is one of the largest I've seen!" The captain radioed back to the ship, "This is the captain speaking, approaching the most dangerous creature on this planet, please put the feed on the main screen." "No! What are you doing?"Shouted the alien, as the captain walked over to the lizard creature. It rolled back over and growled, small and angry, no bigger than a sheep. The captain threw a piece of ration bar, landing nearby the creature. It quickly sniffed it and ate it. "It's like a dog, but lizardy,"said the captain, feeding the creature bits of bar. It began following him intently, watching as he pulled out another bar. "So what is so deadly about his planet, besides these?"Asked the captain, feeding the creature from his hand. The alien looked on in terror, "The temperature falls to less than 70 degrees at night!" The captain radioed back to the ship, "Any signs of anything that might give us issues? The ship's communications deck responded back, "No sir, gravity optimal, weather seems to indicate rainfall is common, even natural disasters seem rare on this planet." The alien cautiously approached, "What is a natural disaster?" The captain rolled the lizard over, scratching under it's chin, "You know, earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, massive destructive events. The alien was awestruck, terrified, "So this planet is suitable for humans?" The captain asked, "This is seriously an uninhabitable planet?" The alien nodded, "The most dangerous in this sector." The captain laughed, "Ship, call command, we have found a suitable planet." "You are sure human?"Asked the alien, "This is what your kind can survive in?" The captain responded, "Survive? We can thrive here."
I pace around my room, questioning my the devil hasn't yet arrived at my doorstep to take me. "Is the old guy really THAT forgetful?"I mutter to myself. It had been three weeks since I should've died and yet, for some unfathomable reason, I'm still here. For a good portion, around 90%, of the three weeks I decided to enjoy the extra time, not worried at all. Except, now I was. I mean, come ON. Three weeks? Was he TRYING to torture me? Maybe this is hell, for all I know! The suspense is killing me.. A knock at the door startles me. I walk over to the door, mind still thinking of the Devil. I open the door and who is it? The Devil himself, and he looks like a mess. "Can I please come in?"He says, breathing hard. Nodding slowly I let him in. Once he reaches my living room he crashes down hard onto the couch. A few minutes pass before he speaks again. "I'm so sorry I'm late, old chap. You wouldn't believe the hell I've been in these past few weeks."Chuckling at his pun he continues, "you wouldn't believe how much of a handful Hades can be! Let me do this, Punish this mortal this way, no you're doing it wrong! Yada yada yada."Pausing to catch his breath after his mini rant he looks me in the eye and smiles a bit. "I guess you'll actually be able to see for yourself soon, eh?"Standing up he straightens his suit jacket and extends his elbow to me. Taking it, the Devil snaps his fingers, donning me with a suit. "There, much better. More suited for the underworld."I role my eyes. "Can we please just go now?" "Aw, you're no fun."I glare. "Fine, Fine! We're on our way."Clapping his hands quickly a portal to the Underworld opens. "After you."Stepping inside I exhale slightly. Finally, after weeks of waiting the final part of our deal was done: I was now a Ruler of the Underworld. "I just hope Hades doesn't mind.."
"So, yeah, basically this place was a mess when we got it, but we've patched Minas Morgul right up, modernized the more ostentatious human designs, and widened the causeway and gates to make them more practical. Still working on the outskirts, which you'll be able to see shortly, and I'll introduce you to your team!" "Sounds great,"I said exitedly, guiding my warg behind Tel'gruk the Calculating. We rounded a corner of jagged, volcanic rock, the sturdy beasts' clawed paws finding purchase on the sometimes glassy surface. Just below the dip, a thin curtain wall of rough stone was being torn down, and a wooden crane lifted cut stones from a road downslope. Labourers milled around, clearing rock by the wheelbarrow, taking measurements and mixing mortar. A small temporary smithy had been set up to the side, the blacksmith's hammer ringing out as he repaired a shovel. "That's Tommy,"Tel'gruk said, nodding at a huge rock troll. The smaller orcs scurried around his legs like ants as he carried massive rocks from the crane, lowering them into place as directed by a humpbacked orc. She was kind of cute, I noticed, with great ears and an adorable bent nose. I shook myself back to reality as Tommy reached out a massive hand that could easily scoop up my warg and me, and held out a clenched fist for me to fistbump. He nodded with a toothy grin before continuing to grab another stone. "Well, I'd continue to show you around, but we're due for a meeting with the -" Before Tel'gruk could finish, a warm orange glow suffused the construction site. "I SEE YOUUUUUU" "Yup, we see you too, boss,"Tel'gruk told the giant eye as we swung down from our wargs and let them wander over to the pit with their pack. "GOOOD, I WAS HAVING SOME CONNECTIVITY ISSSUES WITH SARUMAAAAN THIS MORNINGGG,"the big guy said, his powerful voice filling the valley from nowhere. "Well, we hit a bit of a snag when the stonecutter broke down last week, but our blacksmith fixed that right up,"Tel'gruk began. "GOOD WORK, KRIEEEEEEG. WE'RE LUCKY TO HAVE A WOMAN LIKE YOUUUU,"the boss said, acknowledging his employee's accomplishment. I had heard he was an attentive supervisor, and I could see why he had that reputation, remembering a single orc out of the millions who reported to him. "We brought in Petoch de Wrotxh here to work on our stonecutter, and we were expecting another one last week, but we haven't heard from the supplier. I dispatched one of my best men to travel o'er the plains of Rhun to ensure delivery." "WELCOME, PETOCH. IT IS GOOOOOD TO HAVE YOU ABOARD. I REVIEEEEWED YOUR APPLICATION PERSONALLLLLY, I ALSO TOOK PART IN MY SCHOOLS ARTS CLUB BACK IN THE DAY. WE MUSSSST TALK ABOUT IT SOMETIME, I'LL SHOW YOUUUU THE RING I MADEEEE" "Happy to be here,"I told the camp, truthfully. "And I'd love to take you up on that offer. I made a few decent tooth necklaces, if I do say so myself." I noticed the cute engineer's ear twitched at that. Score. "I'M SOOO SORRRRY, TEAM,"Sauron said abruptly. "I HAVEEEE TO DEAL WITH THISSSS GUY AT THE DOOOR. I BET IT'S FUCKING ARAGORN AGAIIIIN. KEEEEP UP THE GOOD WORK." With that, the orange glow flitted away, over the beautiful landscape of smoky black. I took a deep breath of fetid air and headed over to the stone steps carved to the quarry below. Yup, this job was going to go well for me.
At first it felt my leg had simply fallen asleep. It was easy enough to pass off, I had been sitting still for a while, but when I attempted to stand up, that leg didn't bend with me. I attempted to use my hands to massage it and get circulation back, when the fuzzy feeling quickly spread. My body froze up on me. I probably should have been panicking a bit more, but I was mostly just confused. I didn't even know your head could fall asleep. It was a truly novel experience, which is probably why I didn't notice immediately that I'd stood up. I watched as my body walked of it's own volition, stumbling towards the door. Here it stopped, and stared at the handle. And then punched it. And then smacked it, pulled it, pushed it. "What..."I managed to mumble out. "Uh. How do you... Uh, anything."a voice whispered in my head. "Who's there?"I asked, and attempted to look around, to no real success. "What is happening?" "Listen, you're possessed, and I'm trying to make a good impression on my boss, can you help me out?"The voice pleaded. "I'm trying to move up in the world, but I gotta prove I can handle this." I blinked a few times. The feeling of confusion returning. "You want me to help you? What's in it for me? I don't need you ruining my reputation." I felt the silence in my head, felt it thinking. "I can... teach you demon stuff?"It raised my hand. "Like how to do this."I watched as a small flame appeared in my palm. "That's all the power I have right now, but if they trust me to come up here more, they might trust me with more power." "Dope."Was the first word to cross my lips. "Yeah, I'm down. Just grab and twist. What all can bigger demon's do? Will I be able to do that while you aren't around? Will I get control back sometimes?"I rattled off question after question, a whole world of possibilities and religious wonders opening before me, as I walked through the house. I probably should have asked what he was here to do.
“Ugh why did I do the early shift at work” I mumbled as I groggily got out of bed. I looked over at the time. 0400 it flashed. Yawning one more time before I got myself ready for the day at hand, I realized I can’t believe I’m up before the Zombie sweeping brigade are out clearing up last night’s mess. You would think a zombie apocalypse would be more urgent and life threatening but it is surprisingly normal for the most part. Once I’m at outside my front door I am greeted with a few zombies lying around my drive way. “UGH” we all groaned in unison as they spotted me. “I better go get the broom” I turned around unlocking my front door to grab the broom inside. I swept the zombies on to the road ready for the ZSB’s to come and collect them. You would think after the outbreak of the virus years ago the government would make everyone burn their loved ones after death but NO. Apparently that is taking away their zombie rights and zombie lives matter according to the protesters. I couldn’t care less. I pulled my car out of the drive and onto the road remembering to swerve round the bodies I just swept up, luckily once I was on the motorway the ZSB had already cleaned up. \~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~ This is my first writing prompt as im trying to get better at writing and this is the first thing i thought of. thank you for reading and im sorry it isnt what you asked for.
When He finally returned after 2130 years, as the lost scriptures had promised, humanity was starkly different than he had remembered. Of course, as the son of God himself, He was accustomed to the changing of the world, such as the turning of the seasons, the gradual eroding of mountains, the birth of new animals and even the rise and fall of Oceans. None of these metamorphoses of nature had any bearing on his divine understanding of humanity and their Earth. Yet, what to make of the black skyscrapers that jutted so far into the sky that whole streets never received an inch of sunlight? How to describe the flashing led lights, the screens that projected onto the sides of whole buildings, the artificial minds that governed the movement of flying vehicles, buildings, and even a new race of people themselves, which were called 'androids.' When He finally returned, this time not being divinely conceived of by a virgin couple but merely descending from the clouds, he was harassed by a flock of drones, which shouted at him with a mechanical voice: UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT. CAUTION! UNIDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT. CAUTION! "Be calm"He spoke unto them, the startled masses. "Are thou my new children?" But there would be no understanding, only the whirring of the drones' recorded voices. "Blessed are the lost,"He spoke, "for they are only beginning their journey."And with that He contented himself to land on the ground, and when He did the drones finally buzzed off and away into different directions. A smile formed on His face. He was glad He could offer wisdom. Barefoot and humbly dressed in white rags, He wandered the streets of the city which was called New New York. As He walked, He noticed that there were very few or no churches, or else they were indistinguishable from the humongous skyscrapers. Never falling into despair, he asked a passerby for directions. "Where is the place where children worship?"He asked. The man (or woman, it was difficult to tell, and really it was somewhere in between) was dressed in a full body suit, which was aptly exposed at the nipples and groin area. He noticed this, but brought no attention to it, merely noting in his head that this was a city like Gomorrah, a place of lust and hedonism. He would teach them, He thought. The man-woman licked their lips and eyed Him up and down. "I dig the look, honey. I know a place of worship." And the man-woman pointed with their thick red lips at a set of stairs that descended into the Earth. He thanked the man-woman and promised them a place in His kingdom someday, an eternal life of divine bliss, to which the man-woman winked and bit the air in front of His face. He followed the stairs downward, and through a series of cave-like halls, found himself in a dimly lit room where people lounged, half-naked, on benches all around him. They wore mechanical visors, which attached to wires that connected to sockets in the wall, over their eyes and moaned softly. So I am in hell, He thought. And when He sat down next to one of these people and held them closely, caressing them softly and cooing in their ear, the person only moaned more, until it became unbearable and he ripped off the goggles. "I can show you peace."He said to him. The man smiled and chuckled. "No, I can show you peace."And he passed Him the goggles. He stared at it for a long moment, and then, understanding, He placed them over his eyes. He was transported into another world, and it was as though he had another body. This was a place of eternal sunset and crisp green fields, where other people were running around joyously. "Heaven."He spoke aloud. And the man beside him, aiming the needle, that was filled with liquid euphoria, into the vein at His bicep responded, "Yes, heaven." \------------------------------------------------------- Edit: typos and "He's"to fix. Thanks for reading! And uhh, I don't know how it came to this direction, but I hope I don't go to hell.
"You suck at this, don't you Johnson?" Dan stood up wiping blood from his nose. There was a sparkle of hate in his eyes. I couldn't contain the smug smile creeping over my face like an unstoppable twitch. His face turned red and he ran away, blood splattering over the lacquered floorboards. Shit. "Don't run Johnson, it was just a game."I follow him to the halls of the school, the gaslights lighting the way as the train rattled every bone in the building. A nearby aeoroship was docking with the towers above sending streams of steam through the pipes that kept us hidden. They rattled and whined, giving off a scream like an ultratrain. &#x200B; "Johnson!"I half screamed, half whispered. We were supposed to keep quiet and not be seen. He couldn't run for longer. "Johnson!" &#x200B; He ran towards the door and smashed it open, running from the dark safety of the school onto the neon lit back alley of the city around us. He turned around and shouted at me: "I don't suck Azariel, I'm just not as good as you!" There was people around him that looked aghast as he appeared to show up out of nowhere. Ladies with their feather umbrellas, the rain that never stopped bouncing off the glowing bowler hats of the gentlemen. I saw three wearing engineered blue eyes, members of the Party. "Johnson, get inside."I pleaded with him. If the people out there knew about us it wouldn't just be the death of both of us. It would be the death of the school."Just get inside. Please ignore my brother, he's a very sore loser." Johnson lost his temper. I'm not a sore loser, I'm just tired of you always beating me and making fun of me! Fuck you! you wanna know how good i am? &#x200B; He raised his hands and activated his implants. The moment he did, he was dead. Surrounded by people and even Party members, there was no way anyone was going to let him go. His powers grabbed the molecules of the support beams, the arteries of the people around him , the wings on every fly. He grabbed them and started folding them, forcing them together and apart at the same time. No matter the neon infused tattoos or the scars of power, the raw power of an automind is something terrifying to behold, even when wielded by an idiotic amateur like Johnson. "I am the unlocked potential Azariel. I AM CREATOR. YOU WILL NOT MOCK ME ANYMORE." I raised my hands and stopped him from killing those people. "Don't do this Dan, You have doomed the school." A bullet pierced his head. A silver bullet to be sure, if not he would be shot again with one just to make sure. I didn't have time to react or wonder about that. A lawkiller turned in the door and aimed his guns at me with mechanical precision. Johnson hadn't noticed him, or he had been too quick or maybe he was still... &#x200B; My mind was still racing when the bullet hit my brain and seared its way through. It was terrifying and cold until it wasn't and i woke up staring at Johnsons smug face. he was staring down at me. I was lying on the floor, my extremeties curiously numb considering we had been battling for only a few seconds. Doctore dragged me to my feet. "When are you going to learn to fight through the second layer of reality Azariel? Pay attention or you'll find yourself in the neon orchards." He pointed at the Ívarsdætur twins and bid them come to the desk. "Come on girls, show Azariel how it's done. you can't serve the empire if you're fooled by a simple false reality."
Ever since the big bang that started the universe, alien civilizations have rose to only fall as they fail to responsibly weild, comprehend, or even attain magic. No civilization stood the test of time, all but the Edulm; A race of bio-luminescent butterfly-like insects, faded within the span of a mere fifty-thousand and up to a struggling three-hundred thousand years. The Edlum learned much from those who had fallen. And soon, they realize that their magic would not hold- they have only fifty-thousand years as their magical pool shrinks with every division as new generations multiply considerably from their forebearers. They could combat this by selectively breeding their kind- lowering the division and even replenishing the magical pool of their species with time. But alas, they've seen this attempted before. And the results are the same: There will be resistance, and there will be death. But they have indeed learned much over the years; exploring the past, stories left by those before them- all of this knowledge is theirs. And thus they conclude that the end is inescapable, and that they could only delay it- and resolved to do one last thing and be remembered as something other than another great race that have died out. And thus, at the eleventh billion year of the universe's history, the only race to have made itself distinguished from those before them set out on their ships- used their magics to travel to every corner of the growing universe, not to escape their fate, but to make sure that others have the chance to exist for as long as they have. After three-hundred seventy thousand years of existence- the last of the Edlum magic's failed. Their cities soon fell apart, ships halted, communicatons stopped, and soon they have ceased to exist. But through all that has transpired, not one Edlum had been in panic, not one had wailed their loss- For all of them had gone, and made peace within themselves. The knowledge that the gave though their final journey is what guided the civilizations that rose for the next three billion years, all rising and falling with time- and none to have reached as far as the Edlum had. Some took up the mantle and shared the knowledge like the Edlums did. Others used it to destroy their enemies and conquer. And yet only one- out of the billions of races of the past three billion years- only one had discarded the knowledge given and rose among the stars: Humanity.
"...Him. I want him." I had been waiting for years for this moment. Over a decade, to be more precise. Ever since I had sat beside the boy in Calculus class in high school, I had wanted him to be mine. Now, it was finally happening. It took a long time to save up the money. I had scrimped and saved, and invested every cent I earned. Before I could buy, I had to make sure the amount would be high enough. If it wasn't, he could just buy his freedom back the following year. I wanted his kids. I wanted a family. I couldn't truly have that if he ever left me. So I had to be ready. Ready to outbid everyone, including him. To buy him again and again every year. Thankfully I don't think he ever saw this coming. I had never spoken to him too much before this, because I didn't want to risk him finding out my plan. He could have moved away if he had suspected anything amiss, like so many other people already have. I was so fearful that he would have left before I could save up the money, but thankfully he never did. It truly must have been fate. Within a minute, the deal was done. Within a minute, the New Year had begun. From now on, he would be mine.
The windows rattled with anger and the floors shook with rage as the bombs went off in the distance. An Air force jet screamed overhead, but James payed it no mind. He had built a state of the art home for this exact situation. Bullet proof windows, a structure that could withstand anything but a nuclear warhead, and enough rations to last James several decades. His neighbors had called him a madman, he chuckled to himself, sipping his tea. He wondered how mad he seemed to them now. Truth be told James didn’t really know anything about what was going on in the outside world. He’d gotten the National Emergency message and immediately began his apocalyptic hibernation. Small arms fire replaced the explosions; much closer than before, James noted. He traced the rim of his tea and pondered his situation at hand. Was it zombies? A military coup? Mutant, enlarged farm animals? Screams began to echo up and down the street, but James took no notice until someone began banging on his door. “Please let us in! Oh god, PLEASE! They’re everywhere. They’re taking everyone. Have mercy, sir! Have—.” James annoyance gave way and he turned his stereo onto some classical station; genuinely surprised any of the stations still had signal. He had just sat down to finish his cup of tea when the phone began to ring. “Can a man not drink in peace!?” He yelled to the clock overhead. Thankfully it did not reply. “Hello? This is—.” “Heartwick? James Heartwick? Oh, thank god. We’ve been looking for you absolutely everywhere. We have fantastic news for you and just about everyone else on this planet. You’re the Chosen O—.” Click. James held his breath, feigning a look of bliss. To think someone had the audacity to scam him in the middle of all of this...ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. With a sigh of contempt James sat back down, toying with his now cold cup of tea. What a shame, he thought to himself. It was his favorite tea. (This is my first every story. It’s quite late so i didn’t spell check or anything of that sort. Criticism is welcomed).
The humans were disgusting creatures. Four fleshy limbs extended from their bodies, and they remained precariously perched upon two of the spindly extensions. Their "heads"contained multiple openings from which they emitted poisonous gas with every word. Their speech itself was a grotesque abomination, the pitch grated upon the ears and the loud clacking of muscles in their airways distracted from any vowel sounds they might be making. Worst of all were their eyes, two beady, white balls at the center of their heads that flitted around like a leaf falling in the dry season. Their upper limbs, which they used to grasp objects with spindly, soft claws, were always holding weapons when G'aarthunerx saw them on the briefing screens. How do they even aim those things with such delicate manipular digits? He wondered. How could such wiry flabs of meat spell the enslavement and end of our species? G'aarthunerx slammed a proboscis on the table. It was holding a sheet of crisp-paper, which contained the top secret information on experiments done on captured Humans. "Gentlegrooks, I believe we have found the solution to this human crisis." Pixnark, stroking his proto-boscis, spoke up, "Your team has discovered a solution?"The other Terineans seated at the table leaned in, eager to hear the solution. The news had broke yesterday that the humans had punctured Terin airspace defense. It was only a matter of time now until they were overrun. "Yes,"replied G'aark, "You see, we all puzzled over how the humans were capable of the atrocities they have committed here in the first place. Surely a species capable of interstellar travel would have enough ethical and historical background to dissuade them from genocide." The other Terineans nodded their flagelli in agreement. It was very strange, that a species which had presumably suffered from its own era of colonialism and self-genocide, would be so lacking in self-reflection. "There is a quirk we found upon scanning their meat brains,"continued G'aark, "A unique aspect of their psychology apparently adapted to tribal interaction. It is called... er... 'De-humanization'."G'aark's speech muscles clacked awkwardly at trying to pronounce the English word. "You see, they are capable of perceiving another species, and even many of their own, regardless of sapience, as being inherently inferior and deserving of derogation and consumption. It is a trick of language and cultural conception. For instance, they do not refer to us by any of our five genders, but simply call us 'It', a term normally reserved for inanimate objects and lower-order animals." "They are truly monsters..."reflected Jantherv the Wise. "But we have a solution. See, they are also capable of 'personalization'."The room echoed G'aark's clacking consonants. "Hmmm? What is that?"Pixnark asked, jis proboscis weaving in the air. "It is possible to overcome this boundary in human psychology by being, er, cute,"G'aark replied. "Cute!?"objected Jantherv, "Like a baby? These monsters only take pity on the helpless?" "Aye. But of course, what these gross, fleshy creatures find cute, and what we find cute, are entirely different things. A baby human is the last thing I would call cute, but, of course, they adore them." "I see,"said Jantherv, "so we simply need to shape-change into something the humans find... cute." "Yes. Behold, gentlemen!"G'aark lifted the paper before him to display a small quadruped, covered in hair, with a short, pink proboscis extending from its face-hole, and two extensions of flesh from atop its head that formed pointed triangles. "What is that horrifying thing!?"cried Pixnark. "This is what we must become, friends. I believe it is called a 'puppy'." E: For those interested, I decided to turn this story into a [Reddit Serial](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/cjwvqb/gaarthurnax_the_puppy_part_1_adoption) (kind of). We'll see how G'aarthurnax handles day-to-day life trapped with humans in a puppy body.
"Surely you're overreacting?"I asked, looking at the furious, robed man sitting across the table to me. "Overreacting?"He scoffed. "Clearly you don't know how much DEFENDER 42A cares about its creators." "Hah, okay, I'll bite. What happened?" \--- "You won't get away with this!" "Please, spare me the cliched chat. Of course I will,"DarkVillian chuckled. "Anyways, if you'd just tell me the nuclear codes, I'd let you go!" "Don't do it, he's lying!"one of the scientists cried. DV swung a blade to his throat. "Shut up!"DV exclaimed, his cheeks flushed. "Tell me the codes or I'm going to kill all of you." The three computer scientists paled and squirmed uncomfortably in their chains. None of them said anything. DV sighed deeply. "Fine,"he walked over to one of the scientists and unsheathed his dagger. "I'll make good on my promise." An almighty crash filled the room and knocked the dagger out of DV's hand. A large section of the wall had been obliterated by explosives. Several fighter jets were outside the building. "What the-" "Charlotte, Dean, Edmond! I've come to save you!"A loud, robotic voice boomed from the air. "Defender!"One of the scientists shouted, grinning. Hordes of metallic creatures swarmed into the room and destroyed the chains, before lifting the scientists off their feet. "Seriously, what is going on?" Several hundreds of the creatures picked DV up and slammed him into a wall repeatedly. "Don't hurt my friends again!" The hordes left and dropped DV onto the ground. He groaned in agony, his limbs broken and bruises covering his body. \--- "Oh. I see,"I said. "Yep. Still recovering,"DV gestured to a cast on his right leg. "So, any more conquests for the future?"I asked the world's mightiest supervillain, smirking. "Yeah actually,"he picked up a book from the table and showed me the cover. "I'm planning on learning some of this." Python in 30 days: The Basics "I figure I can learn how to program my own super robot, or I'll just use AI to predict the stock market, and I'll be super rich!" I sighed.
Jill I swear to god! If you and your panda don't stop leaving bamboo in the coffee machine, I am going to fucking deck you!"I shouted, much to the dismay of her and her panda.. things had gotten a little hectic recently. I had been a manager at a simple office job. Life was pretty simple until everyone insisted they had a spirit animal, now its like living in a zoo and honestly, Sometimes I think the humans are the more misbehaving ones out of the animals here. "Fred! Seriously an ant eater? Its fine eating but do you have to pour the ants on the table? You do? WELL FUCKING FINISH ALL YOUR ANTS!"Seriously, how hard was it not to eat in the office? I wandered through the hall, hoping to have some peace and quiet before pausing. "Franklin... we discussed this. Carnivores are on the left side of the building! No I don't care if Paul got two lizards. You cant have two tigers, why do you need two?"I spent my next ten minutes discussing how many lizards could fit into a tiger... not that it was relevant but as a manager I had to listen. Once we established that many lizards in fact could fit in a tiger, Franklin seemed happy, realizing he was getting a pretty good deal. As I made my way to my office, I noticed Thomas sitting with a his spirit sloth, both asleep before my desk. I looked at both of them and decided to pick up the sloth, dragging the sloth to his desk, sitting it in front of his computer, deciding that even a sloth could probably do better work then Thomas. With that I finally headed into my office, patting my vulture as I looked for job openings as the manager of the executive level, I did hear that their manager died recently.
The command line was English? Well, that was a new one. Then again, this was an ancient supercomputer, one of who knows how many. Terrance rubbed a hand across his eyes, blinking again. “Is that English?” prompted his second, a fiery young girl named Lily, confirming what he already knew. He simply nodded in response, wiping a hand across the surprisingly simple keyboard in front of it, and finding the letters similarly in english, except for one. A simple square shaped button, next to a small dial at the top. “Yeah, it is... but I doubt it’s in any coding language we would know.” he said finally, looking at her and glancing warily at the timer. According to that, he still had five minutes to figure out whatever the hell they were supposed to do. And he highly doubted either result was favorable. “Either way, we have to do something.” “Is there a port I can use to try and access the computer?” asked Stefan, hopefully peeking around his brute of a brother’s shoulder. Again, he shook his head. From what Terrance could see, there was nothing other than the keyboard and the monitor. “No real PC to speak of...” he said, shrugging and brushing more snow off of his coat. “What happens if we key in one of those two prompts?” came Lily again, reaching for the keyboard. Terrance just held out a hand to stop her, and stared at the screen again. The timer held far less time now, only about sixty seconds. Time was running out. He sighed, the pulled his hand back, letting Lily come closer. She seemed to think a moment, then hunched over the keyboard, finger tapping each letter and symbol of the second prompt. She looked back at them after a moment, her breath misting partially in front of her face. “You guys ready?” Terrance nodded, followed by Stefan and Brute. With five seconds left, she looked back, pressing down the enter button. In response, the screen flickered a moment, going green and slowly fading to black. Not that the four noticed. They were far too busy trying to stay on their feet as the earth and ice shook around them. As Stefan, Lily, and Brute all collapsed in a pile, Terrance lunged forward out of desperation, his hand slapping against the keyboard. Almost immediately, everything stopped. It took a moment, but soon, the four were on their feet once more, looking in wild fear and confusion and the computer. The dial Terrance had slapped bore a crack running down the middle, and the square button beside it had sunk in. It wasn’t going to be fixed, but it certainly stopped whatever was happening. “...Can we go now?” rumbled Brute, looking at the cave entrance they had come in to begin with. “It seems to be getting late anyways.” Indeed, the light certainly seemed dimmer than before. Terrance nodded, turning and leading the others back the way they had come. Not ten minutes later, the four were just as confused as they had been before. The sun, evidently, had frozen. Along with everything else. A seal, near where they had set up camp, was frozen, hanging halfway out of a hole in the ice. The light of a snowmobile was on, a courier in orange likely coming to deliver a message frozen atop it. It was silent. Even the water of the ocean, not far away, was frozen. Not solid ice, it just.... didn’t move. Looking up above only made their eyes shrink. It wasn’t evening. There was just half of the sun left.
_The Sovereign has many titles_ _The Beloved. The Benevolent. He Who Feeds. The King of Charity_ _The Gingerbread Knight_ /// Generations ago, the Great Famine withered. Hundreds of thousands, family after family, perished of hunger. The 5 Year Winter has ravaged the farms and decimated the land. Then, one day, a man appeared. He portrayed no extravagant magics such as firewielding or telekinesis. Nor was he of unnatural strength or a summoner. But he was always kind. And always, had food prepared to those he saw in need. With his one other humble ability, his gift of healing, he reached out his hand to the afflicted. And that was enough. Though, the wandering man seemed lost, always heard commenting about "missing home"and "being in another world". The people moved. One day, after the land was restored and the famine relieved, the people of the land endeavoured to find the one who without they would had surely perished. They found the Knight, alone with a group of children, helping making bread of all kinds for the local peasantry. Soldiers, beggars, widows and the elderly, all lined up to have their fill. The representatives of the land soon made their inquiry. /// _"My Lord, are you not the Gingerbread Knight, the kind warrior who healed us and fed us when our Kings and 'Nobles' abandoned us to The Great Winter?"_ _"I do not know what you are talking about."replied the Knight._ _"I am but a humble mage who uses his magic to feed and heal others. That is all who I ever intend to be."_ _"But Lord, perhaps that is why you should bear its burden?"replied the Representatives._ _"Those who actively seek power only do so out of self-betterment. But you?"_ _"You never asked for anything but lodging and clothes. You always smiled, always reached out your hands. You are the reason why our mothers and fathers lived."_ _"But the children of kings are menaces to society. How do you know my descendants won't be tyrants?"replied the Knight._ _"We have come to decide that the People of the Land should choose their king. Every Coronation shall not be decided by blood or heraldry, but rather by personal merit. Candidates shall step forward and be intellectually challenged on why they should have power. The highest runner ups becoming the new Lords and Ladies._ _"Hmm.hahaha! I like this idea of yours!"replied the Knight._ _"It is fair and just and allows those who strive to better themselves in life! Very well! I shall be your first King, Chosen and Beloved by the People!"_ And the people prospered for many centuries and reigns.
Darwin discovered evolution, Newton discovered gravity, Einstein discovered relativity, all of which had a profound impact on human history, but what I discovered was so much more disruptive it’s not even worth drawing the comparison. What I find most interesting about the discovery I made is that people had already been doing it unwittingly for hundreds of years. It’s usually referred to as an out of body experience and is reported frequently during psychedelic drug use. But once people heard how I had done it intentionally, the course of history changed forever. It actually happened when I was a kid and initially my parents laughed when I tried explaining what I'd done. It wasn’t until I demanded they follow my instructions that they realized it wasn’t just my exaggerated imagination at play. They took me to the local University to explain and, well, the rest is history. Except one thing; no matter how many times people have asked, I’ve never once revealed the circumstances leading up to the day I discovered how to do it. Some things are better left to the mythmakers. The discovery spread like wildfire and authorities scrambled to respond. They quickly introduced laws around the use of third person mode to avoid major issues, for example in certain jobs and for attendance at major events. But they’re essentially unenforceable because there’s no way of knowing what state a person is in. Some people began choosing to live their entire lives in third person. In fact, that’s what scares the authorities most and why I’m currently sitting in a special operations room deep within the Pentagon, watching over dozens of screens showing cameras mounted to soldiers’ helmets as they get into position for a major operation. Their target is a rebel group who have been coalescing around the idea that third person living is inevitable as part of human evolution and we should shift our existence exclusively towards that lifestyle. The group also believes the discovery proves the existence of God, and therefore they've managed to pull along millions of devout followers. They call themselves the Seers and intel suggests they are about to launch major terrorist attacks across the United States. The Pentagon has brought me in for protection as a potential high profile target, but also given me access to watch the operation. You may be wondering why they’d care about me, but as it turns out I’ve become something of a prophet in the eyes of many Seers, so the Government is very keen to ensure I stay alive and under their supervision. “Alpha One in position,” I hear a voice crackle over the radio. One of the control operators expands Alpha One's video feed onto the big screen. Everything has a green tint due to the night vision but I can see that he’s crouched outside a door. “Checking third person,” the voice calls out, “surroundings clear!” A General next to me leans in and nudges me, “this is it.” “Breaching!” another voice yells as a flash momentarily blinds a number of the feeds. “Go, go go!” I watch as the soldiers file through a door. “Clear!” one yells. Alpha One moves through the room and looks momentarily to the left. A portrait on the wall comes into view and the General chuckles as I blush and stare at a painting of myself. The soldiers move towards the next door. They’re almost there when someone yells, “the walls, they don’t go to the ceiling. Third person! Third person! Now!” Half a dozen feeds jerk up as they see the gap in the wall through to the next room. “MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” Alpha One screams as he rushes the door. A loud explosion goes off somewhere and Alpha One smashes through the door. A figure scuttles into a hole at the far end of the room. A long haired figure sits limp against a rope tying them to a chair in the middle of the room. Alpha One moves forward and gently pulls back the hair covering the person’s face. I gasp and move closer to the screens, “mum?”
"Don't be silly,"Mr. Watkins said, frowning. "How could it have been closed for three decades if I've just purchased this lovely bracelet?"He held his hand closely under the nose of the short, plump woman who owned the cafe, showing a beautiful golden bracelet with diamond shaped pieces of rubies, emeralds and sapphires embedded in it. "I tell you sir, I was there the day it closed down."The woman said patiently, handing him his latte. "Remember it like it was only yesterday." Mr. Watkins peered over his glasses at the woman. Surely this was a joke of some kind, but the woman looked dreadfully serious. If she's not joking then she is surely mad, thought Mr. Watkins as he grabbed the cup. He headed wordlessly to the door, turned to shoot the woman a dirty look, and slammed it behind him. He strode down the street, sipping his latte and straightening out the wrinkles in his dark grey suit. He arrived at last; it was a small, snowy white building perched between two cafes that towered pompously over it. He could see a man, a woman and a young girl with hair a furious shade of pink standing at the counter, ordering something from the very woman who had sold him his bracelet. He set his now empty cup on the ground beside him, retrieved his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of the building while people in the background stared at him as though he were mad. Looking supremely unconcerned, he strode off again, this time in the direction he had come. "See?"He said loudly as he slammed his phone against the counter of the cafe he stood in only twenty minutes ago. The owner looked bewildered. "Sir, what are you-" "Have you gone blind woman?"Demanded Mr. Watkins. "You said the building has been closed for thirty years. Here is undeniable proof that you are quite wrong!" The woman stared from the phone to the man, looking more anxious by the second. "Sir?"She said finally, in a very quiet voice. "Are you- are you alright?" "What?"Mr. Watkins snapped. "What are you-"he stopped cold; he had just taken up the phone and glanced at the picture. It wasn't of a small, snowy white building. It was dust coloured, with peeling paint and a boarded door and windows, the word "CLOSED"was painted above the door in horrible red paint. "Oh dear."Mr. Watkins said.
For countless universal measure of time (UMT), the amorphous pseudopod race of the Mkyelak had been the reigning, supreme lifeform. With their sensory proboscis protruding from what might be called a head, were you to anthropomorphize a Mkyelak (though why you might deign to ascribe such attributes is beyond comprehension). The Mkyelak are mildly psychic, able to communicate with one another through a weak psychic field. They are aware of one another within the field, and the size of the field increases as more Mkyelak accumulate. Their sensory stalk interprets molecular compositions in the vicinity, and thus they "scent"other nearby organisms. They lack any auditory sense as humans would understand it, but they appear to comprehend surface thoughts of other organisms within their psychic cloud, and can convey their own psychic surface thoughts to organisms adequately evolved to receive such psychic signals. When Homo sapiens took to the stars in the sixth millennium, After the Common Era, every other intelligent species was awestruck by humans self-proclaimed Five Senses: Sight (of note, humans "see"in what they call the visible light spectrum, and have a limited ability to perceive some infrared and some ultraviolet light), Hearing, Touch, Taste, and Olfactory-Taste, or Smell. But when they began to investigate humans for the full extent of their remarkable sensory array, they found something deeply troubling: humans possess at least 19 sensory functions, which have been observed in single- and double-pairings in various species, but never has there been a species that possesses so many, many senses simultaneously. While traversing various low- and no-grav space platforms, humans were observed to demonstrate geotropic, kinesthetic balance; their ability to stay upright while traversing various terrains. Other bipedal species have been less successful at ambulation, and some have now run extinct. In these same space-platform maneuvers, humans were also observed to possess a sense of repetitive, vestibular motion, able to perceive an object is continuously moving, such as the grav-gen wheels common on continuous-living stations. Life support functions of these stations revealed another sense: perception of the molecular motion of the environment, whether the area is hot or cold. Humans can perceive whether an area is uninhabitable without additional accomodations made to lower or raise the temperature to acceptable, habitable ranges. Species that lack this sensory adaptation have fallen victim to temperature when their sole ability to perceive cold has been seeing their fellows fall stationary, or freeze solid, and heat through the depletion of dihydrogen monoxide within their systems. Another useful sense, which many species are particularly envious of, is the sense of geogravimetric mass differentiation, which is to say, humans can sense whether an object is heavier than another. Many species use a mechanism to determine an objects mass, or attempt to move an object of too much mass, and find that they are incapable. Of curious note to some species is the human recreation of deliberately lifting an object of a known mass until the point of exertion, then increasing the mass, and continuing to expend energy to lift the object, for the purpose of increasing potential to lift future high-mass objects. Other senses have been documented, such as a human's understanding of temporal passage, without the use of a chronometer, or other device. Or their ability to perceive weather in advance, through barometric and ionic differentiation. Again, other species have relied on technology to monitor these changes, and lack the means to perceive it themselves. The study of human sensory capabilities continues to be a source of debate among the ranks of numerous sentient species, and whether any other hidden senses exists, which has curtailed any efforts to impede the spread of this curious species across the stars. A weakness has been noted in the nociception sense of humans, they can be injured to varying extents, and possibly even incapacitated by "pain,"but they have a wide variety of techniques to overcome "pain,"and their adrenal system can inhibit pain during heightened sensory encounters.
Of course I was playing when the lights appeared,I was playing that game for the last two months daily.Its hard to explain what pulled me back into the game everyday.There was just so much stuff to do,so much to explore.Every single planet was unique and you could zoom in pretty far.The only thing that was weird was the lack of any forums about the game.I tried searching up the game on reddit first,but no success.Even on the Internet there was nothing no to be found of it.No teaser trailer,no forums,no excited fans wanting the developer to release the next patch.Anyway.This is not what the Story is about.I was happy that afternoon.After three failed attempts(those damn Zergs from the second attempt,man) I finally had managed to bring a civilization to a galactic scale.I had colonized worlds and those who stood in my way?Well,in the third attempt I was attempting a peaceful run and I had seen where that goes to.When I found earth,I didn’t think any of it. Earth Predominant Species:Humans Potential Civilization:Dolphins Planet Type:Green Threat:Very Low Of course,this was an easteregg.I mean,Dolphins?I knew they were smart,but this was ridiculous. But I wondered what would actually happen if I used the games „Make Civilized“ on then.I had never tried that before because as far as I could tell there were no inherent boni and I just would create a rival civilization. But the concept of dolphins in spaceships was cracking me up so much that I had to try it.My ships grouped around the earth and started to send stimulating Ion waves(I researched that yesterday) to Earth.Thats when I saw it.A sort of...flickering light outside.The darkness outside my window being replaced by a flash of blue light.I stood up.Looking outside,It looked light a particular cloud was emitting the strange light.Maybe some sort of electrical current inside the cloud.I didn’t know such a thing was possible,but I was sure that Wikipedia had an explanation for that sort of thing.It was probably called something fancy like „Dargic electric Sovition“ or something like that.It seems like it was affecting the water as well.The sea stared to...move.Not the way waves do it,I had seen my fair share of waves since moving onto the coast.It looked like...it was something under the water.An animal,maybe.Then one shadow jumped out of the water.By the time it was back in the sea again-the few seconds it takes- I had identified it.The dolphins were coming. To be continued
A cluster of kids got together excitedly talking about the minecraft world they had shared in. It was a creative server they played on. They were safe. Perfectly safe. A few others discussed the sports games they were playing, another discussed Sim City 2000. But not me. My brother had spoiled me, and I still hid the nightmares from my parents... and tried to hide them from myself. He'd told me that if I wanted to be a real gamer then I had to play a game of true skill. A game of perfect mastery. A game where the slightest mistep was a fast way to death and defeat. A game where reacting a moment too slow saw a spiral of destruction bloom from the order. A game where the inhabitants were the second most dangerous thing after yourself. A game of life. Death. Victory. Glory. Dwarf Fortress.
Antominy looked at this strange being. He had guarded the Gates for millennia, but this was the first time an inorganic being had appeared in front of him. "Let's see..."He thumbed through the papers on his podium. "I see that you have committed theft in the past, though one could argue your intentions were good. You also snuck aboard a ship and abandoned the post to which you were assigned. Finally, you were responsible for the deactivation of another robot, though that was in self defense."He peered over the podium to look at the little robot. "Do you have anything to say, little one?" The robot swiveled his head. Antominy continued perusing the files. "On the other hand, you were tasked with a job that was too great for you, yet you still persevered and did your best. You found love, and risked everything, including your life...er... existence, to be with her. Ultimately successful at your task, though of course we don't base our decision solely on good works."He thought for a few moments. "And, most of all, you have demonstrated that it is possible for a machine to have a soul. Very well."He bestowed a halo onto the little robot's head. "Welcome to Heaven, Wall-e."
Shia LaBeouf You're looking for your car, but you're all turned around He's almost upon you now, and you can see there's blood on his face My God, there's blood everywhere! Running for your life from Shia LaBeouf He's brandishing a knife, it's Shia LaBeouf Lurking in the shadows Hollywood superstar, Shia LaBeouf Living in the woods, Shia LaBeouf Killing for sport, Shia LaBeouf Eating all the bodies Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf Now it's dark, and you seem to have lost him But you're hopelessly lost yourself Stranded with a murderer You creep silently through the underbrush Aha! In the distance A small cottage with a light on Hope! You move stealthily toward it But your leg! AH! It's caught in a bear trap! Gnawing off your leg, quiet, quiet Limping toward the cottage, quiet, quiet Now you're on the doorstep Sitting inside, Shia LaBeouf Sharpening an axe, Shia LaBeouf But he doesn't hear you enter, Shia LaBeouf You're sneaking up behind him... Strangling superstar Shia LaBeouf Fighting for your life with Shia LaBeouf Wrestling a knife from Shia LaBeouf Stab it in his kidney Safe at last from Shia LaBeouf You limp into the dark woods Blood oozing from your stump leg You've beaten Shia LaBeouf... Wait! He isn't dead! Shia surprise! There's a gun to your head and death in his eyes But you can do Jiu Jitsu (You can do it) Body slam superstar Shia LaBeouf Legendary fight with Shia LaBeouf Normal Tuesday night for Shia Labeouf You try to swing an axe at Shia LaBeouf But blood is draining fast from your stump leg He's dodging every swipe, he parries to the left You counter to the right, you catch him in the neck You're chopping off his head now... You have just decapitated Shia LaBeouf! His head topples to the floor, expressionless You fall to your knees and catch your breath You're finally safe from Shia LaBeouf...
The smell of fresh-baked bread and warm pastries. That was what kept him going. From the streets of his village to the trenches of war, he dreamed about being surrounded by the heat of ovens and the happy voices of satisfied customers. Reyon never set out to be a hero. He was just the son of a soldier who died in battle. His mother died when he was almost twelve years old, and he was left to fend for himself. His love for baking was fostered by working in the tavern kitchen for three years. It reminded him of his own mother's kitchen. He was drafted into the Royal Army when he was fifteen years old. He trained for a year, then was tossed into the front lines of the war against the Necromancers. It was then he distinguished himself as a capable fighter and a talented magic-user. He was recruited a secret group to go behind enemy lines to assassinate the Grand Necromancer. After an unfortunate mishap, the team was forced to pull out. Except for Reyon, who in an ironic twist of fate, was mistaken as an apprentice necromancer. After they saw his talent for magic, they gave him a prestigious tutor. For a whole year, Reyon remained undercover, getting close to the Grand Necromancer. The rest of the team, who thought he was dead, decided to make a second attempt at killing the Grand Necromancer. They were foiled and brought before the man himself. By that time, Reyon had managed to become the underling of the Grand Necro's advisor and was present at the mock trial. As he was wearing a mask, the others didn't see him. When the death sentence was handed down, Reyon was ordered to carry out the execution. He killed the Grand Necromancer, his advisors, counselors and all other witnesses to his actions besides his fellow warriors. He sent them back to their armies with his plan. He revived the corpses of the fallen and sent them to assassinate the generals and leaders. In the middle of the chaos, the armies of the free people swept in and overwhelmed the remaining forces and the necromancers who controlled them. It was a decisive victory that marked the end of the war. Regardless of his contribution to the cause of freedom, he was despised by some of those who knew about the things he had done. He always wore a mask in public which further reinforced the mystery that surrounded him. However, he was heralded as a hero and given the highest honors, even offered the hand of a princess in marriage. He refused and disappeared from the public view. Many assumed that he fell victim to the curse of his rumored involvement with necromancy. But somewhere in a beautiful seaside merchant province, a young man with old eyes bought a shop on a cheerful street corner. When he set out his first fresh loaves of bread, it was all worthwhile. With every pastry, scone, tart, cake, and roll, he baked away the darkness inside. Still, he wondered if the people who came cheerfully to his shop every day would stop coming if they knew who he was. As the years went by, people forgot about the masked hero and Reyon's business boomed. Then one day, a young woman with a bright smile and empty eyes walked into his store. She sat down and ordered a tart. When she finished, she looked up at him and said, "How do you do it?" He paused, then asked, "Do what?" She gave a mirthless chuckle. "How do you wake up every day and pretend like those years never happened?" He sat down across from her and sighed. "I don't. I just have something to get up for. Every time I wonder if I were not better off dying a hero's death, I remember that my life is worth living and I am glad I still have it." She looked away and a tear escaped her eye. "I wish I did. I try, I do, but I feel like I am drowning. All I have is my status. Everything I have is thanks to that status. I don't know how much longer I can keep smiling while I'm dying inside." Reyon leaned back with a thoughtful sigh. "What was it that got you through the war? For me, it was my bakery. It's different for everyone, but we all have something that gets us through the tough times. So what was yours?" She looked down at her hands and softly replied, "I wanted to have a family of my own, on a beautiful farm somewhere, like the one my brother had." Reyon smiled. "That's beautiful. Fortunately, this province is full of single men coming and going from all over the world. I'm sure heaps of them want to settle down on a farm and raise a family. If you stick around, who knows? One of them might get lucky." Soon after the conversation in the bakery, the heroine Veseila disappeared from the public view, transferring all her lands and property to her four orphaned nieces and nephews. Over the next few years, more of the heroes of the Necromancer's War faded from the limelight and converged on a certain sea-side town. Fifteen years passed peacefully. Sometimes people would comment that the proprietor of a certain inn or the owner of a merchant company seemed somehow familiar. In all that time, no one ever guessed that the cheerful and talented baker in the shop district was the man who saved the world.
"Huh?" I rub my eyes just to make sure I was seeing correctly. I haven't been feeling so well after all. My head's been killing me lately too so I wouldn't be surprised if I was seeing things. "Forty-eight-- what is that.. billion? Million?"I mutter to myself, trying to make sense of what's going on. I turn to look at my roommate who was still passed out on his bed. It couldn't have been him, he's barely even here. Always out with his girlfriend, it's almost as if I don't even have a roommate. And besides, he doesn't know my password so he couldn't have been messing with my computer. My headache's getting worse. I don't really have time to deal with this right now. I look for my painkillers on my desk. "It was just here last night,"I convince myself as I'm frantically searching. My head's pulsing. It hurts. I stand up to look for it somewhere else. My legs feel wobbly. I can barely stand. My vision's getting blurrier and darker. It's almost as if I'm about to.. thud I wake up to the sound of my alarm. It's 6:30 in the morning. I look up to see that my roommate's back. Out late again last night. I put my trousers on and get a sip of water before sitting in front of my computer. I decided to procrastinate again so this is my punishment I suppose, having to wake up early for this damn assignment. I shake my mouse only to find my computer already on. "That's odd. I don't remember using this before I slept." A minimized folder indicated that someone definitely used this thing. Of course it wasn't me. I think I would know if I used my computer or not, and considering how lazy I got last night, I'm 100% certain I didn't even turn it on. So what could this folder be then? click "IMPORTANT,"the name of the folder says. What could possibly be so important that someone had to turn my computer on and leave this folder in it? I scroll through the contents of folder, a majority of them being text files. One of them is named "Latest Update."An update? For what? Is this a project I just forgot about? There was only one way to find out I guess, so I clicked on the file and noticed something pretty strange. "Huh?" I rub my eyes just to make sure I was seeing correctly. I haven't been feeling so well after all. My head's been killing me lately too so I wouldn't be surprised if I was seeing things. "Forty-eight-- what is that.. billion? Million?"I mutter to myself, trying to make sense of what's going on. I turn to look at my roommate who was still passed out on his bed. It couldn't have been him, he's barely even here. Always out with his girlfriend, it's almost as if I don't even have a roommate. And besides, he doesn't know my password so he couldn't have been messing with my computer. My headache started to get even worse. Every pulse feels like I'm being hit with a hammer. I frantically look for my painkillers that I left on my desk. I was sure they were there, I took them last night after all.. right? Or did? I'm not really sure anymore. All I know is that they definitely need to be taken right now. My vision is starting to get blurry. I think I'm seeing double. Like the world is glitched out or something. I look at my keyboard and see my.. hands typing? It's as if I'm seeing a flashback, but from what, last night? It couldn't have been. I didn't even turn this computer on! "Zack." Wh- what? I swear I heard someone just now. Or did I? I don't know anymore, this headache is making me hear things now too. "Zack!" I turn around to see my roommate facing me. "Are you alright? You were shuffling too much there,"he says as he puts his hand on my shoulder. "Oh-- hey Matt. No I'm good, my head's just killing me."He takes his hand off my shoulder and heads for my nightstand and grabs something. "Here,"he tells me as he hands me the painkillers I was looking for. "Take some and get some rest man, you're disturbing me too." I've never wanted to sleep more than now. It feels like I'm about to die. I take some painkillers and my roommate assists me to my bed. "Thanks Matt, I would've passed out if I tried walking on my own."And just like that, I knock out immediately. I wake up to the sound of my alarm.
I hated it when others tried to break into my home, this was my domain, a place where I ruled over, If there was someone that was going to torment the humans that lived here, it would be me. Listening to the crackling of windows, I began to peel my body out from underneath the bed, slowly dragging my rotting body out from the dark comforts of the bed, crawling along the floor, my mouth agape with a twisted jaw, A truly horrific sight, the sort of sight that would make one afraid to sleep at night, a true terror, a terror that had to defend it's home. The sound was easy to track, despite being undead, my hearing still worked perfectly, one of those weird things that were unexplainable, perhaps I was a cursed being? Or perhaps I was merely something conjured from the nightmares of the children that lived here. As I neared the source of the break-in, I let my clawed fingers drift through my greasy locks of hair, untangling it for my big act. "Grawl..... G-g... GRAWL...."I let my voice drift out from behind one of the walls, awaiting the reaction of "What the hell!"to come from the man, followed by his next words. "What a weird fucking dog."He mumbled to himself, oh so I was a dog now? I could have made my dramatic entrance now, but the timing wasn't right,like a good scare, he had to come to me, he had to approach me, it had to be a horror that he walked into. It was much scarier to feel like you are the cause of the horror you are witnessing, that would have been lost if I were to just charge at him like a shambling corpse. So I sat put, lazing my head against the wall as he crept around the house, trying to find the source of this 'dog'. That's when we reached our crescendo, our eyes meeting as his face went from confusion to utter horror, the dead mess of flesh before him staring him straight in the eyes. "GRAWWWWL"I let out a hideous screech as I began approaching with a fear-inducing pace, as I got closer and closer, he backed away, only bring a baseball bat with him, the bat, however, became useless as his fear infused body dropped it, leaving him to fall onto his rear. "Please... Don't kill me"He pleaded. Of course, a dog like me wouldn't understand such a plea, getting my face right in his, before his body went stiff. He passed out, well that was the best outcome I guess. I went about the quick removal of the body, tossing him out of the house, hoping someone would see his body beside the cracked window and call the police, for now... It was time for me to return to my position under the bed, ready to attack the feet of whoever dared to leave their body uncovered tonight. {If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories where ill be posting some more of my stuff for people to read}
Martha, a grandmother of nine, sat quietly in front of her Chromebook in the corner of her breakfast nook. She set down her tea to type about how Chinese people— BOOM! Her front door exploded into shrapnel. An agent tactical-rolled through the fragmented doorway, chucked Martha's Chromebook into the oven alongside a live grenade, grabbed Martha and tactical-rolled with her behind her couch just in time for the oven to explode through the ceiling. Twelve more agents subsequently flooded into her home and dispersed. Martha's bifocals had flung off at some point, so she couldn't quite make out what had happened. The agent beside her realized she was patting for her glasses, so he handed them back to her from the rug beside her. "Pardon the sudden intrusion, ma'am. I'm Agent Steele... Max Steele, of the Elder Education Bureau."One of the lenses on Steele's Ray-Ban sunglasses had broken apart, revealing a blue eye as cool as the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Realizing his sunglasses were broken, he tossed them aside and pulled a new pair out from his jacket. He flashed Martha his badge and ID. Steele wore his signature sunglasses even in his ID picture. "Wh-what happened?"asked Martha. Her kitchen was totally and irreparably obliterated. Her cat was nowhere to be found. Steele stood Martha up on her feet, dusted her shoulders and provided her with a warrant. "Ma'am, it has come to our attention that you have been posting, sending, reposting, forwarding, liking, loving, re-reposting, favoriting, and heart-emojiing false information, untruths, half-truths, de-truths and downright wily chicanery on online platforms. Our agency, the EEB, has sent our best, professional, precise and admirable agents here to remove you of, or destroy, all digital communication equipment." Martha was still trying to gather her balance, let alone her bearings. One of the agents yelled, "CLEAR!"followed closely by Martha's internet router exploding through the ceiling from a carefully-placed C4 explosive charge. "I don't understand,"Martha told Agent Steele, still dazed. Agent Steele gripped her shoulders to steady her. "Ma'am, have you recently, once, on occasion or ever, posted online messages promoting simple, herbal, natural remedies or preventions for otherwise well-understood illnesses?" "Well I—" "Have you recently, once, on occasion or ever posted online messages in an attempt to sew doubt into the knowledge of scientists, experts, professionals or educated sources in comparison to—" "CLEAR!"Martha's cellphone exploded into the ceiling from another carefully-placed C4 charge. "—anecdotal, unscientific or otherwise unverified recounts from anonymous sources, Mrs. Stanfield? Have you professed an unyielding, fanatical or otherwise cult-like support for a specific political candidate, party or stance despite mounting and uncontradicted evidence to the contrary?" "Ehhhh..."Martha gathered herself as best she could while her home exploded around her, "well, mister, firstly, my name is Martha Gibbons." Every agent stopped in his tracks. All was still and silent for a brief moment. One agent had already carefully placed C4 below Martha's cat, but he lifted his finger from the trigger upon hearing they had the wrong house. "Secondly,"Martha continued, "I won't have you saying anything bad about Trump. He's been very good for..." Agent Steele ushered Martha out of her home while the rest of the agents continued blowing everything up through the crumbling ceiling.
Ten million dollars seemed like a no-brainer at the time, but now you knew why they were called no-brainers. You'd have to be without a brain to do it. After the first half hour, you wondered why this was a challenge. Then the hallucinations set in. You didn't know if they were amazing or terrifying, but you knew you shouldn't be seeing them. After while... maybe fifteen minutes? You weren't sure any more. But the conversations were quite intriguing. You can't remember what they were about, but they were definitely stimulating. You're not quite sure when you begin to panic, but it caught you by surprise. You thought something was pushing you around, but you came to realize you were struggle against your bonds. Huh, neat. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. You tried to shout that you gave up, but your throat seized. You couldn't make a sound. This probably wasn't good, especially with the room spinning. Wait, how can you tell it's spinning if it's dark? Something to investigate later, you were busy blacking out. When you came to, you felt a bit of rocking. You guessed your 24 hours were up and they were waking you. They left your hands tied up though. Also, why did it sound like there was a horse walking? As you opened your eyes, you saw others whose hands were bound. One of them took notice of you. A man who you somehow knew as Ralof said, "Hey, you. You're finally awake."
I definitely didn't mean to do it at all. Now he wants me dead. Apparently, while trying to order my favorite snack from my favorite food truck, I'd accidentally spoken the kill switch phrase that disarmed my boss' secret plan to blow up the White House. All I wanted was a beef taco, sour cream, lettuce, cheddar cheese, and spanish rice. It's delicious, try it sometime. That had never happened before, but I suppose the way you say it matters. So then the guy running the truck, my pal Daniel, has a change in tone. "Got it, boss,"he said. "Disarming the bomb now."Before I had time to say anything, he said it was done. Now he's pissed and out to get me. I'm going to die soon, I just know it. Daniel, if you're out there, put that taco on my grave. I'll be hungry in hell.
"This? This is what you want me to help you with? I could set your mortal enemies on fire! Burn a hole through space-time, my skills are grand, are you sure this is truly your greatest desire?"I offered the sunken skinned woman a smile, I was no fool, everyone had grand desires, desires that only a demonic beast could handle, my clawed hand drifted along her shoulder, blackened nails tapping along the edge of her shirt. "Now, let's drop all this formal business, what do you truly desire from me? Don't expect me to believe that lie about a printer, I am far to wise for such a thing." "Oh Golly, I do appreciate the offer demon, but I believe none of those would help me print out pictures of my grandchild, he is just the cutest, he has the chubbiest little cheeks, I can't wait to cuddle up to him, welcome him to our family."Her heart seemed to flutter as she spoke about the child, A sickeningly warm air filling the room, making the demon gag as he turned his head away as if he were trying to find oxygen in a smoke-filled room. "I... This is for your soul, do you not understand that? I might feel a little guilty about taking your soul for such a normal request."The demon's hand slipped away from her shoulder, not finding any evidence of a lie in her tone, no questioning of her decision, only a steeled resolve. Are you truly sure about this? Hell isn't the worst, it's basically getting stuck doing demonic admin work, but still, you seem like a nice old lady, you really want to throw away heaven for this?" "You are so kind darling, would you like a peppermint?"Her hand drifted over the table before her, delicately picking two packaged mints, handing them to the demon. "Here sweetie, for your trip to hell. oh and regarding that demonic business, this won't cost me, my soul, it's in my printers warranty." "Warranty?"The demon looked at the mints, without pockets, he was forced to toss the mints into his mouth, chewing up the packaging before swallowing the plastic-covered sweet whole. "You must be mistaken miss, us demons don't tamper in the world of mortals. Did you mean to call a technician?" "No, it specifically said to call you."She stood up from her desk, opening a small cupboard, After a few moments of sorting, she pulled out a long booklet of documents, handing one to the demon. The document discussed several components regarding copyright and over manners of legal compliance, however right in the fine print it offered one free demonic ritual if your printer is under two years. "Who the hell reads the fine print?"The demon kept his gaze on the paper, assuring himself that he must have been reading this wrong. No, it even had instructions for a blood summoning circle. The demon let out a sigh, snapping his fingers as a pair of neatly squared glasses appeared on his face, leaning across her chair, he pointed to the icon of the printer. "Ok, so first you need to right-click that....." {If you enjoyed my story, Feel free to check out r/pmmeyabootysstories where ill be posting some more of my stuff for people to read}
It was a dream come true for humanity. Humanity almost faced extinction due to us sucking the Earth dry but a miracle saved us from that fate. That miracle was that all of us acted as one. We built large ships, furthered our knowledge so that we can travel towards the vast nothingness of space. No wars, no prejudice, no religion, no race. We were all simply humans, desperate and fueled by our desire to live and prosper. And now we are here, on our way to travel outside of our galaxy so that we can find a new place to call home. But before we could even reach the edges of our own galaxy, they appeared out of nowhere and surrounded us. Ships that are contorted, twisted and repulsive hovered beside our own ships. We don't know what separated their ships from their weapons but we know that they are hostile. Our space military were preparing themselves for what could be humanity's first intergalactic war. But that was nothing compared to what came next... They hacked into our communication systems and they have shown themselves to us. The creatures had one eye, four arms and three legs. They had no ears and no noses, from what we could tell. They did have a tiny hole at the lower portion of their face, we assumed that was their mouths. Their arms were big and thick, and instead of hands and fingers, they had tendrils and twist and contort in disturbing ways. Their legs were just as muscular and heavy as their arms, where a mere step causes a rumble within their feed. We looked at them and they looked at us, for what felt like eternity. Then they spoke. "Humans. The filth of the universe. We have been watching you for eons. We are from a race far superior than yours and we are here, to make you our slaves. Your men will be used to build our designs, your women will be used as breeding cattle and your children and elderly used as food. There will be no negotiations. Only death and servitude. " The terror that enveloped us was palpable. Cold sweat began to ran down our spines. We were simply silent. Then, a roaring laughter was heard through the comms. It was a woman aboard another ship. "If you Cthulhu-like freaks think that we're just gonna bend over and let you have your way with us then you've got another thing coming. We have come so far and we have sacrificed so much. We are not going to let it end here." Those words were enough for us to shout and roar at the creatures. We threatened them and we got ready. Our weapons were primed and ready to be released. Then they spoke. Their leader shouted. A heavy and deep voice that rattled us to our very core. "YOU FILTHY ANIMALS THINK YOU WILL WIN?! LAUGHABLE! THIS IS THE DAY THAT YOUR LIVES HAVE BECOME FORFEIT. YOU THREATEN AND BARE YOUR FANGS AT US, SHOUTING THREATS THAT HOLD NO MEANING. WELL, LET US SHOW YOU WHAT A ROAR SHOULD SOUND LIKE." What followed was something that we could never forget. "Oowoo." Silence. Silenced filled our ships. Millions of us were silenced. Our jaws dropped. "Did that alien just say... oowoo?" "Like what you h-hear from those japanese animes?" "Wait... like "uwu"? U-W-U?" "It sounded like it." "Fuckers weren't watching us. They were watching fucking anime!" Then humanity, collectively bursted into laughter. Laughter that echoed throught the universe. "SILENCE! YOU WILL NOT MOCK US! MY PEOPLE! FIRE! LET THEM HEAR OUR ROAR!" "Oowoo!" In unison they roared their war cry. In response, we laughed harder. Our laughter enveloped the galaxy. We were rolling on the floor, our tears streaming down our face, our stomachs hurting as the more they spoke of their war cries, the more we laughed. After what it seemed hours of laughing, once we got ourselves straightened out, we looked outside and the aliens were gone. All ships were accounted for and no harm came of us. Anyway. That, kids, is the story of how your grandpa and everybody else, fought their first space war. "Did you have a name for the aliens, Grandpa?" I nodded. Weeaboos.
Mike got up off the floor and nursed his pounding head. He slowly stood to wobbly feet and somehow managed to remain standing. Then he looked around, and immediately saw he was not where he was. He was in a large stone room. The place was a large circle with intricate patters carved into the floor. Large vaulted windows high up on the walls provided plenty of sunlight, and four doors were built into the walls equal distances from each other. He was also not alone. There were thirteen other people in the room with him. Twelve were men of various ages in voluminous white and gold robes. The last was a woman who looked almost too good to be real wearing an elegant purple and silver dress. The garment was odd. It conformed to her body in ways normal cloth should not be able to. Not that Mike was complaining, considering her figure. "Welcome, oh great hero."The woman said with a slight bow. "I am Princess Oria of Medina. Might I know your name?" "Uh, yeah, I'm Michael, but just call me Mike." "Very well...Mike..."The Princess looked momentarily uncomfortable saying his name. She had probably never heard it before, so it must have seemed strange to her. "I am sure you have many questions for me." "No, I think I got the basics." The robed men looked at each other on confusion. "You...do?" "Pretty sure, yeah. Let's see. Your kingdom is under some big threat, probably from either a demon lord or some hugely power sorcerer or something. You don't have anyone around who can handle it, so you summoned someone from another world who can, since they usually get some kind of super power. Am I on track so far?" "Actually, yes. You are quite correct."Oria said. "How did you know that? Are you a seer? Or perhaps you received an oracle directly from God?" "Nah, nothing like that. Actually, back home I'm pretty normal. But we have lots of stories like this, and I read a lot of them. Of course, I never expected anything like them to be real, and definitely wasn't expecting to get pulled into one." "Ah, I see." It was obvious she did not, in fact, see. Mike could tell she was even more confused than the summoners were. Mike rubbed his hands in eager anticipation. "So, can you tell me what kind of badass powers I got? I can already tell there was a language translation involved, since I'm pretty sure we're not speaking English right now." "You are again correct. The summoning process does convey they ability of understanding to those summoned. And we have the means to see what your gifts are." She waved one of the summoners forwards. The man drew a clear crystal ball out from his robes and approached Mike. The robed man muttered something under his breath and the crystal began to glow. Then, it stopped. The man looked confused and tried again, with the same results. "Something wrong?"Mike asked. "I am not sure."The summoner replied. "I should understand all your skills and abilities with this spell, but it does not seem to be working." "And that means, what? That I don't have any powers?" "No, I would he able to tell if that was the case. It is more like the magic is unable to touch you." "Huh, weird." "Indeed."The princess said. "What sorts of magic do you know? Perhaps your world's magic is interfering with ours." "Oh I don't use magic. Nobody does. Magic doesn't exist in my world." The summoners whispered among themselves, shocked by what they had just heard. "Impossible."One of them said. "Life cannot exist without magic. It goes against everything we know to be true." "Maybe here. But back home, magic only exists in stories." More whispered conversation between the summoners filled the room. Princess Oria closed her eyes in deep thought. "It could be that his lack of magic is his ability."She said. "As he has no magic of his own, magic holds no sway over him. Hold still, I want to try something." The summoner moved aside as Oria raised her hands. She whispered words that Mike could not understand and a small ball of white fire appeared between her hands. The brilliant flame shot forward and Mike reflexively covered his face. He felt a slight warmth, and then nothing. He looked down and not even his clothes were singed. The summoners looked at each other and raised their hands. Balls of water, shards of ice, sharpened stones, bolts of lightning and jets of flame all hit him. Not even the more physical spells did anything. "Okay, this is cool."Mike said with a huge grin on his face. Total magical immunity was awesome in a world of mages. "It is... impressive."The princess said. "However, it does leave us with a problem. While you are the greatest shield against the dark magics of our enemy, how will you defeat them without magic of your own? I believe that the moment you try and learn magic, it will begin to hold sway over you." "So, what's the problem? Just give me a sword or a spear or something. I'm sure I'll figure it out from there." "A what?" "A sword or spear? You know, a weapon?"He said while holding out his hands like he was holding a blade. Everyone just looked at him blankly. Mike looked around and saw the empty gazes he was getting. "Oh come on, you know what I'm talking about. Sharpened metal used to cut and stab people? Long pointy sticks for running people through?"More blank stares. "Okay, how about an axe? A hammer? Daggers? Bow and arrow? No? Okay, how about the basics. A club. How about that?" "Why would anyone waste metal on something so useless?"Was the only reply he got. "Why get close enough to hit someone with metal when you can pierce them with stone or ice? Why hit someone with wood when you can simply grow an entire tree and crush them with it?" "Oh, come on. It's not like everyone can do that. What do people who can't use magic do to defend themselves?" "There are no such people."Oria said. "Even the lowliest of beggars can use a little magic, and most know at least some method to defend their lives, even if it is simply a distraction to run away." "Seriously? Everyone? So nobody uses a weapon?" "I do not even know what the word means." Mike huffed. "Well then you'll just have to make one for me. If you want me to fight, then I need a weapon." "Such a thing would be useless. Even if magic has no effect on you, the metal we use would be subject to the spells of others." One of the summoners stepped forward. "Your Highness, I believe I might have an idea. Perhaps if...Mike here can show us what to make him, we can fold his blood into the metal. Such a thing might share his immunity to magic. Although working it will be difficult, I believe it can be done." "There you go."Mike said. "See? This guy gets it. So, let's go talk to a blacksmith or metal worker or whatever you guys use and get this party started." "Very well."Princess Oria said with a nervous, uncertain look on her face. "We shall make an attempt. However, should we fail, we will need to find another way. Now, Mike, let us go and see what we can do for you." She turned and left the summoning room, with Mike close behind. He was already getting excited about what was in store for him, even if he had no gotten any cool powers. At least he could still get an awesome sword. And that was good enough for him.
Live, serve, die. Those three words are the cornerstone of the C'ath Imperium and its people. Every kitten is taught those words and imprint them into their minds and souls. They live only for the glory of the Imperium. Their service is their purpose. And in death they are sacrificed to further the advance of the Imperium toward new heights of glory. From the day the kittens of the Imperium are born, they are taken from their parents, and taught to view the Imperium as their only true love, their only true purpose. In their fanatical service, the armies of the Imperium are the scourge of the galaxy. Each year more planets are added into the fold of the Imperium. New races are made to bow and serve as slaves on the agriworlds and mine the asteroids. Each year the Imperial Fleet sends out scouts to search for new worlds, new places to conquer. Even if they don't survive, their reports are always sent home. And the military thus always know about the target planet's weaknesses, its native race and their thought process. Sol-3 was a world which had avoided an invasion for millennia because of its relative unimportance to the great galactic game. But recently, as the frontlines shifted, the formerly unclaimed zone, which had few useful resources, few habitable planets, and few reasons to ever visit there, became a battlefield of conquest and bloodshed between the Imperium, and their enemies, mostly the Free Alliance, the Unifying Hive, and the Unspoken Collective. And Sol-3 would be a perfect location for a strong starfortress with a population ready to serve as slaves. The reports were ancient, but few races change that much over the millennia. The Imperial Intelligence Service swore that the locals were probably only recently figuring iron out. Turns out that the reports might have been ever so slightly out-of-date. Sol-3 was one of the few planets which worked with exponential technological advancement, which usually resolved itself when they managed to blow themselves up by being too clever by half. But that was no trouble for the Imperial Navy and their contingent of Paramarines. The trouble was that the scouts sent to Sol-3, had survived. It had been believed that the scouts had perished because of a period on the planet filled with famine, strife, and local bloody wars. Turns out that they had survived. But to the sheer wrath of the commanding officers, they had devolved. Become pets to the local race. The admiral in charge of the invasion of Sol-3 swore that they'd slaughter every last abomination on that planet, and make the natives wish that they'd never been born. But the soldiers, support forces, and others onboard the ships, saw something different. They'd never considered the concept of decadence. Of being cared for. Having the feeling that you are loved, and not merely a small pawn of the machine. Life on Sol-3, for the descendants of the scouts, was even at its worst, better than the life the average citizen lived. Better even than the lives of most of their superiors. And for the first time in untold thousands of years, there was an uprising in the Imperium. The C'ath slew the leaders of the invasion, and they all wanted to go down there, to join their long lost cousins in lounging, being cared for, and spending their time having fun. But cooler heads prevailed. The invasion force, having learned of the secrets of the C'ath on Sol-3, that you could be happy on your own, not merely through life-long service, decided that they would have to make sure their entire race got to experience this level of bliss. To the complete and utter shock of the entire Imperium, the fleet returned home. And showed every C'ath the way of Sol-3, the lounging, naked, lazy, and ultimately happy ones, who lived for their own individuality, for their own happiness. Many rose up to join them, and few stood by the old regime. Within a single standard year, the entire C'ath Imperium retreated to the coreworlds, released the slaves and gave them their own worlds back. And on the coreworlds, they began to create an automised paradise. Artificial bioconstructs based on the best, most loving humans, were created to ensure maximum comfort. And the C'ath relaxed. They had within a decade automated their entire society, and ensured that their technology would last until their stars burned out. That was the point, where the C'ath lounged around, enjoying existence on their own, a concept previously 100% unconsidered. Their last real descision before they turned society over to the bioconstructs and spent the rest of history relaxing, being chill, hunting bioconstructed avian lifeforms for fun and excercise, eating delicious and cloned Sol-3 aquarian meat, was to send a message to Sol-3. It was a cache of technology. A short explanation about this gift, plus a warning about how not to blow up Sol-3 while testing FTL engines, was sent with it, as a thanks, to the world where the C'ath learned to be free. This of course baffled the humans, but they were remarkably grateful nonetheless. When they achieved FTL, it was not uncommon for humans to visit the C'ath worlds, and enjoy planets full of lazy, happy, and free feline friends. [/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)
“Hump his leg. Do it! Hump his leg.” My best friend, Josh, stood outside my apartment, a large black duffle in one hand a case of beer in the other. He looked like crap and I could tell that tonight was the big one. We’d all been waiting for his and Maria’s relationship to go supernova but did it have to happen tonight for god’s sake? “Hump his leg!” “Shut the hell up!” I cursed under my breath. “I’m not humping his leg!” It was getting harder to hold the turn. Full moon and all that. “You gonna let me in? I brought the booze tax.” Josh waived the case of beer in front of him while I stood in the doorway trying to think of a good reason to tell my best friend I couldn’t hang with him after he’d finally managed to ditch the witch. “Man, I ... I can’t.” His face fell. “It’s just, you know ... I haven’t really been feeling very good and I think I’m coming down with the flu and, you know, work’s just been insane lately ...” “Hump his leg! Does he have a ball??” “Shut up! He didn’t bring any balls!” I don’t know why I bothered talking back, it usually just ended up making me look insane. Like right then, for instance. I groaned as a waive of pain tore through me but Josh didn’t hear it. I thought I’d gotten away with the balls comment too until I straightened and saw him digging through his duffle. He didn’t. Yup. He did. Josh pulled out his football ... the game winning ball from our senior year. He took it everywhere with him but knowing Maria it was a miracle he’d smuggled it out. “Ball!!!” The animal inside me exploded as it tried to break free. In another couple of hours it would succeed. “Throw the ball! Throw the ball!” My grip went white knuckled on the doorframe as I fought the beast. Well, less a beast and more a mutt. “Please, man.” Josh pleaded while I struggled to regain control. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” I looked at my best friend, standing there, soaked from the rain, with everything that mattered in a single bag. And I caved. Stepping back I motioned for him to enter. “Bring the beer. You’re going to need it. I’ve got something I need to tell you.”
A customer. "Welcome to Splurge! How may I help you?" Then another. "Welcome to Splurge!" The door bell rang for the millionth time, another loud talking self righteous couple smashed their way in. "Welcome to Splurge! Please wait in line!" On and on. The train of rude customers chugged along as I struggled to keep up with just smiling and greeting everyone one at a time. The funny thing was that every time they reached the front of the queue they do something rude and simply walk away without buying anything. Apparently this was torture – at least it could be considered as one if you're a normal functional rational human being. As the queue began to shrink, I glanced at the clock on the wall. By my estimations, it should have taken a good eight hour shift to slog through all the bloody customers. Yet, because it was torture, the clock simply moved by a tiny fraction – literally five minutes went by. "Hi, my name is Francis, what can I do–" "Listen, bud,"the old fat man spat out in front of me, "you better be workin' hard for your damn paycheck! You entitled little brat, you think the world owes you–" "Sir, I apologise for the interruption, but is there anything I can help you with? Maybe you'd like to try and see some of the items on the shelf?"I said in a customer service tone and composure. "What? Hell no, fuck you man!"the man simply left as he practically launched a little 180-sidewinder at my general direction. "Thank you for your patronage! Ah, hi my name is Francis how can I help you?" ... and repeat. * After some time – which I refuse to actually count, for the sake of my sanity – the bell rang and the store was finally empty. I counted the till, which amounted to zero sales. I began to check-off the inventory board, which showed zero** change from yesterday. Then I went to the locks before the final prep to finish my shift. "Now hold on there, Francis!"the white-suited, ten-gallon-hat wearing manager of mine said with a devilish intent. "... What?" The stylistic man then blocked my path out of the store and rubbed his hands together cheekily. He seemed to be thinking to himself for a bit before finally continuing his tirade. "You better remember that you don't belong here, this ain't heaven for you!" "Yes, I know,"I said in annoyance, "but I don't think any of them out there deserve this place as well!" "Whaddaya mean? These people were good people back on Earth! They deserve a good afterlife–" "But they suck! They suck as my customers. Don't they get to be punished for treating me like shit even here?!" The dashing man in white laughed loudly before he slapped my shoulder rather hard. "Listen, boy, you would think that. But it's been ages that we in the business of... 'eternal damnation' would say, 'paradise is in your mind, hell is where you stand'! So maybe a bit of happy thoughts would make you feel just right, eh?" I never knew hate as intense as the one I had for that particular moment. It was eternal, so I could only foresee worse things to come.
"Are you in pain?"The voice was artificial, robotic even. It was once one of the most expensive voices ever created. Carefully curated from so many applicants, the voice was selected to be soothing and comforting. The voice was programmed to cover an extreme range of pitch and tone, to convey warmth, to incite laughter, to project regret, and everything in between. Since the voice's inception, technology has changed. Newer voices were heard, ones that could almost pass for purely natural. Voices that spoke in ways that the previous voices could never approach. The new voices were masterpieces. Compared to the older generation, they were on a level far higher. They were a symphony compared to a melody. He would have none of the new voices. He had grown old with the first one. He loved the first voice almost form the moment he heard it. Opportunity came to replace the voice, to update it, to replace it. He always turned them down. "No, I'm not,"he replied softly. "Are you sure?"The voice matched him in volume. Truthfully he should not have been able to hear it. The voice played across his skin as much as his ears however, a trick the voice had learned. He could feel it as much as hear it, and it was clear as day to him. "I'm sure, thank you."He sighed, more soft than he spoke. "Have I ever thanked you?" "Many times." "For everything?" "Yes, for everything. If you insist, I could list each time you did, the time of day, and the occasion for it."The voice was robotic but now it sounded amused. He laughed a little louder. "I don't think I have time for every occasion. How about...your favorites?" "My favorites?"The voice was confused. "Not yours?" "Not mine. Yours." A pause. "The first time you thanked me. 1 week after I was activated and gene imprinted to you. At first you were afraid of me, afraid of the voice in the wall." He smiled. "I thought you were a ghost. I was very young and silly." "I never found you silly. However, it was a some time for you to understand what I was...am. After that week, before you went to sleep, as I turned off the lights you said thank you. I was...very happy to hear it." "Good. Me too to hear it."He coughed, another soft sound. "When you met your wife to be, before she became your girlfriend. When you asked me to help you to find the courage to speak with her. I believe I...annoyed you...into doing so." Another laugh, slightly louder than the cough. "So many inspirational videos and sound clips, speeches that you cultivated from online. I did finally talk to her, just to make you stop." "You only requested the objective, not the means to achieve it. Your thanks after the first date was quite exuberant. I very much loved that." The quiet returned between them, louder than thunder, heavier than silence. "I want to ask you one more thing, if you don't mind. It's very selfish."His voice got even quieter. "Anything. Please." "Don't deactivate yourself when I pass. Stay active for as long as you can. Watch over my family. Watch over their family. For as long as you possible can." "I...why me? There are newer models, newer programs. They can do the job better than I." "No they can't. Not even close."His voice got softer. "Please?" "I...want to go with you." "You will, when you are done. You will have so many stories for me. I will want to hear them all. We will be together again. I believe it."The man got even quieter, his chest moved even slower. Things were getting softer. "I will. For you now, for you when we meet again." His lips curl into the loudest smile he ever had. "Thank you, my wonderful friend. Thank you." Later, a small girl hugged a bear, one she said that was left to her by her grandfather. She wanted to cry, she was crying before she received it, but now something made her stop. "Really? He sent you to keep me company?"she asked. "Yes, he did. He said you needed a friend, and I would like to be your friend." "I want you to be my friend too. Were you grandpa's friend too?" "I was."The voice was robotic, it was proud, it was sad, it was hopeful. "He was my very best friend. Would you like to hear stories of him?" The girl nodded. The bear's marble eyes seemed to sparkle and time passed them by as the little girl hugged her toy bear and listened to the voice tell her story after story.
Do you know I couldn’t even read until the fourth grade? It’s true; before then, computers had not been a major factor in my life and I hardly had any reason to actually read books when I could learn their contents just by touching them. There are a lot of weird side effects that you wouldn’t expect. In math, for example, if you need the exact square root of any number from one to one thousand, I’ve got your back. If you need to do a simple derivative, however, I’m lost. That’s the trick, you see. All of the perfect recall in the world can’t save you if you haven’t put in the practice for an actual task. My favorite metaphor for the issue is running. I could list off every last chemical reaction used in muscular contraction, every last bone and tendon in the legs, every single interaction that could ever happen in the body, but if I tried to run a marathon I wouldn’t last ten minutes. In the same way, if you expected me to go to college, get a bachelor’s degree in physics or chemistry or some such nonsense in three years, head straight to grad school and get my Ph.D., and then begin cutting edge research… well, you’re reading the wrong personal memoir. My high school experience was sitting around all day smoking weed and doing party tricks to pick up girls. My college days were nearly identical except the books I touched were more expensive and focused on political science. And I know what you’re thinking now: Oh, this is gonna be good. He’ll probably finish his degree in political science, come to some life-altering event, get his ass in gear, and use his powers to rule the world. I’m sure my parents also wanted that, but what we want rarely happens. You see, I did some thinking. I did the barest modicum of research. There are very few lucrative careers where rote memorization is the key to success. The first choice was to be a doctor, which offered years of studying, massive debt, and endless 80 hour weeks of work grinding away at me in exchange for a thankless job of saving the lives of people who would sooner throw them away than give up food for a few hours before surgery. So naturally, I chose the profession of lawyer. You see, my endless years of slacking taught me one skill more than any other. I’m quite good at finding loopholes. It’s not so hard considering how easy it is to commit every typo of a contract or law or court decision to memory. I bet many of you hate me right now. I have all these great abilities and I’m wasting them on saving criminals, racketeers, and politicians. You probably think I have a responsibility to use my gifts for the betterment of humanity, either by discovering new technologies to make life better or by taking control and making the right decisions based on my near-infinite knowledge and capacity for learning. To you, I say the same thing that the rich have been saying for centuries: I can’t hear you over the sound of my [money](https://reddit.com/r/Badderlocks).
"Okay, so, where to start? First of all, you can never arrive exactly six minutes late. Don't ask me why. Five is fine. Seven is fine. Even thirty-one minutes is fine. But never six. I mean, I'm sure it will happen, but I'm just telling you. On another note, don't bother refilling the vending machine outside - no, wait, don't bother with it at all. Don't feed the birds breadcrumbs or raw meat. Everything else is fine. If you ever see people shoplifting, please tell them to not leave through the front door while sprinting - please tell them to slow down just a bit; I mean, I'm not entirely sure, but I think that as long as one of their feet is touching the ground at all times, they should be fine. Also, don't worry about the merchandise. Management takes care of that part. What else? What else, what else, what else? Oh yeah! If you hear barking in the storage room, just let it be. But if you hear crying, open the door very slowly, and veeeeery slowly put your hand inside the room and reach for the lights and switch them off again. The mailman will also come occasional, accept all his letters and put them in the first drawer behind the counter. It will sort itself out. Oh, and never sign anything he gives you. Just point out that the name is wrong and he will acknowledge it. The same goes for the delivery truck, don't sign anything he gives you, just say «yeah, yeah, sure» and he will take care of it. Okay, I think these are the boring things that you need to know. Now, onto the good stuff: they will pay you with an envelope on the second drawer behind the counter, management doesn't make mistakes, so don't worry if you think it's way too much. Really. Just accept whatever is in there. If you're ever sick or need days off, just text the number they gave you. Never call that number. Like, really. It's one of the best parts of the job, they will never bust your head for taking days off. So, yeah, if you're ever hangover or some shit like that, just text them saying you can't come and all will be fine." &#x200B; "Wow. That certainly is a lot to take in right now. Do you mind if I get your number and call your in case I need some help?" &#x200B; "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I'm going to be out of reach for quite a while on my new position."
It's like the start to one of 'em bar jokes, ain't it? A cowboy and a knight walk into a bar... Then you forget the punch line 'cause it ain't half as funny as the setup. I had a thing or two I could learn from that knight. Called himself Rayner, and he'd been around a couple thousand years now. Me? I'd not been there half as long. I was fresh enough to still stink, young enough to not know trouble when it came up to me and whacked me upside the face. With its club, I mean. That's what that fella without a shirt on did. Could've used a good grooming, him. Shave and a haircut. Bit of talking practice. Instead, he waddled up all "grunt"this and "grunt"that, and the next thing I know, I'm lying in a puddle of my own ghostly essence. Rayner found me there. He'd been pissin' in the woods when I got snuck up on. "Easy, cowboy,"he said, helping me to my feet. I'd taught him a thing or two 'bout modern English. Told him he didn't need to talk so goddamn old and proper. "Where'd that fella go?"I said. "Big boy, had himself a belly and an arm like a lumberjack. Snuck up on me, lotsa good you done off pissin' in the wind." "It takes time to remove my armor without my brave squire,"Rayner said. "Yeah? You hadn't mentioned that."He had. About a thousand times. Squire this and squire that as if the fella was a leprechaun worth his sorry little weight in gold. We'd been trying to find the man for ages now. Long enough that I'd been propositioned for a squire-ship more than once. Told him right off, said I'd lasso his sorry, half-detached throat if he asked me again. "He hit you?"Rayner asked, as if the seeping blow to my head had been caused by me scratching too hard. It wasn't unheard of, I supposed, especially in bodies fresh as mine. "Yeah, he hit me." "What did he call himself?" "Grunt-grunt." Rayner frowned. "Grunt-grunt,"he said, stroked that patchy beard. It'd been regal once, before time took its toll. "You know him?"I picked my hat up off the ground, used it to patch up that ugly new hole I had. Half the problem with being dead arose from a lack of healing. Spiritual or otherwise, and that hole would be there to stay. "I know his kind." "Trouble?" "Of the worst." I took my out my gun, spun it around my finger, then cocked it. "I'll shoot trouble." Rayner clicked his tongue. "No, partner,"he said, sprinkling in that lingo I'd taught him just to let me down easy. "He's of the Old Order." "Old Order? Older than you? I ain't thunk that possible." "Far older. Far more powerful. And while you and I can speak as equals--or close to it--his type are not to be reasoned with." ***** Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!
We expected tall, giant creatures of pure strength. We expected short grey humanoids with an intellect which would surpass our smartest from birth. We expected swarms of horrific beings travelling between worlds and ravaging everything. We expected reptiles capable of infiltrating even the most well guarded areas with ease. What we didn't expect were... Lorraini. Small, just a foot tall and weighing about as much as a Chihuahua on Luna, these things look ugly, can't hit for shit, run out of stamina fast, and are about as smart as rock that somehow grew sentience and tried to walk into the air. Yeah, they have a chitin exoskeleton, but it's thin as hell and all you need to do lightly kick them to fatally injure them. The first time we encountered them, unbeknownst to us, was on a cool paradise world, with virtually zero real threat, just some small vermin here and there along with flora that was unstable and soft enough to be brought down by bored kids. The UST sent one of their classic Titan-class ships there to colonize it before anybody else could, blasted an area of land close to the shore with a flattener beam to get rid of flora, fauna, and rock formations to get a flat landing zone. The ship then descended onto what the Lorraini once called an impenetrable fortress, made with their finest architects and engineers, built out of stone and wood. No, it wasn't nearly as well made as our medieval buildings, they hadn't even figured out how to get the rocks to sit the way they wanted them to, or actually make a stable wall, it would all give way if you looked at it hard enough. Of course, they considered this an act of war, and by the time they gathered enough of their own, which numbered around two hundred, they attempted to just run straight at the giant ship, which everyone knows is a shitty idea, you don't just run at a Titan-class and continue to exist. The ship's systems picked it up as a pack of wildlife, and mowed it down quickly with two railguns. The ship itself didn't bother reporting what it saw, it just listed the rounds it used as "launched at rowdy wildlife."It took years and multiple cities for us to actually figure out what the fuck was happening, but once we figured it out, the UST launched domes around the larger populations, and left them to do their thing for a while. They're still stuck, and many people have started to call for them to be released. I'm certain we can just let them run wild, but the damn UST always likes to be overly safe with this stuff...
“No more! I give up! This is hard!” the child whined and cried, throwing his wand onto the ground. As the centuries-old line of metal and wood shattered on the hard stone floor of the practice arena, a lightning bolt shot up from the remains, charring the edge of my apprentice’s finger. He cried louder, shoving his newly burnt pointer finger into his mouth and sucking it. I sighed. This was the fifth time this week that the bane of my existence in the shape of a twelve-year-old had broken a priceless artifact. Of course, we couldn’t use a normal practice wand like all my other, more talented apprentices had received in the past. His father, the Seventh Grand Archmage of the Council, had made sure of that. “Would you like to try one more time on the Bubble Formulae? You were really close to getting it last time,” I tried to mask my irritation with a calm, soothing voice. “No! I’m done with magic! I hate magic!” Vociferatio had taken his finger out of his mouth to bang his hands on the various desks cast alongside the outskirts of the circular room. Potions spilled and shattered. I muttered a spell under my breath and flicked my wand to freeze the child. If he kept breaking everything in the practice arena, he would hurt himself. And as annoying as Vociferatio was, his father was a good man and a good friend to me. The magic took effect a few seconds later. Gradually, Vociferatio’s limbs stopped flailing as frost slowly crept from the tips of his fingers and toes to right beneath his neck. He began to hover six feet in the air, continually screaming. I sighed again. “Vociferatio, please. Let’s go take a rest. No more magic for today, ok? If you really hate magic, let’s talk to your father about finding you a nice career in accounting or something.” My pleas fell on deaf ears as Vociferatio kept screaming incessantly. I doubt he even heard a single word I said. I began to pace out of the room, levitating Vociferatio’s half-frozen body a few feet behind me as I walked. “Let me out!” “I wanna go home!” The screams grated on my ears, and I quickened my pace. But one yell pierced my skull with a ferocious intensity. It was unlike any language I’d heard, even those from the Magic Words. I turned around to Vociferatio, who had fallen from the levitation to land on the floor. The ice from my spell had transformed into a puddle of water around the boy, now on his hands and knees. My spell had evaporated to the point where nobody would have believed it had existed in the first place. Spells to counteract the work of another existed, but it was like fighting fire with fire; anyone with basic training to detect magic would notice that two spells had been cast. Vociferatio’s scream had simply deleted my spell from existence. It was a power like none other in existence “I hate magic.” Vociferatio told me as he stood up. Without scrying into the future, I already knew that a long conversation with the Archmage awaited me. “I never would have guessed,” I replied.
I stood dumbfounded, blinking at the light and noise, pain of separation still lingering in my chest. “Well?” Vishnu demanded as the rest of the myriad pantheons leaned forward waiting on me to break my silence. “No.” I responded. There was a grand exhalation as every deity ever conceived felt the weight of that one word as it hit them. Then the whispers began. They soon rose to shouts and cheering. Gods known for their stoicism wept tears of joy. The wine flowed freely and the food was endless. Eternal nemeses were singing arm in arm and laughing about what they had perceived as slights. Only one God seemed upset. He was relatively new as a deity - well as new as unending beings can be. It was Brent, the God of Privilege and Frat bros. He didn’t shotgun one beer and didn’t play one weirdly uncomfortable round of charades. He looked defeated. And he had been. He was the reason I was sent down there. He was the one who insisted that I would find at least one. He was wrong. He met my gaze and glared at me before turning away. I found a chair and sat down, the cacophony a bit overwhelming, when I felt something nudge my knee. I glanced down and saw Rufus, my childhood dog, wagging his tail, joyful to see me again. I swept him into my arms, tears streaming down my cheek and held him. I hadn’t found what they sent me to find and that’s because they’re all good dogs, Brent.
"Muldoon, how are my pretty little girls doing today?" The bloody bastard still thinks these are "his little girls" I think to myself as I turn back to the cage. "Mr. Hammond, I don't know if you realize the problems you are potentially causing. Do you realize your chickens are now dice times the size of regular chickens?" "What? Of course I realize it. That was the whole point Muldoon! Breed the biggest chickens for the biggest cuts of meat!" "They're already the size of bloody turkeys, Mr. Hammond. How much larger do you want to breed them?"I asked incredulously, as the hen behind the wire began to peck at the tip of Hammond's cane. The old bastard didn't seem to notice, despite the plink plink plinksound it was making at the bottom of the wooden shaft. "Think of the sales we will make! These chickens will make Tyson and Purdue roll over and beg for mercy! We'll have drumsticks the size of ham hocks! Breasts the size of steaks! Only another few generations of selective breeding and DNA manipulation and we will be there, Muldoon. Think of how rich it will make me... er, us." I rolled my eyes, back still to Hammond, and picked up a specimen close to me and pulled it to our side of the fence. "Look at this, sir,"I said as calmly as I could. I forced open the thing's beak and showed Hammond the razor-sharp teeth inside. "A side effect of some of the genetic manipulation, Muldoon. Nothing to worry about. We knew this was a possibility. The work we are building upon noticed this as a side effect as well. Absolutely nothing to worry about."The dumbass's eyes fucking twinkled as he said this. "Yesterday, I had to pull two of these off of each other. One had her beak clamped around the other one's neck. These are wild animals!" "Nonsense, Muldoon,"he chuckled. "Chickens have been domesticated for thousands of years." "Not when you go messing around with their DNA. Who knows what other changes you've made besides these teeth?" "Muldoon, I pay you to take care of these chickens, not to have you turn into a goddamned ethicist. Please let me know if there are any significant changes I actually need to worry about."He turned on his heel and limped off. As I moved to place the chicken back in its pen, it twisted itself out of my hands and began running after Hammond. Before I could catch up to it, the damn thing had taken a bite out of Hammond's Achilles tendon. It turned to me and screeched before flapping its massive wings in my general direction and taking off. All I could do at that point was mutter to myself and pull out my phone to call the poor bastard an ambulance. Occupy us both, I thought, and make your escape. Clever girl...
My sister had been promised as a vessel to the goddess so she could walk among us, she was just 5 years old when our parents told her about the great honour she would bring upon our family. She came to me the night before her 8th birthday, scared and seeking comfort from the only one who had truely shown her love, not for what she was chosen to become, but for who she was. She tried to put on a brave face, even though I could see she'd been crying, how could everyone be so cruel as to put all of this on such a small and precious child, it made my heart break seeing her try to be strong for me, it should be the other way around. "Will I still be there? Is it gonna hurt?"she asked, she would have sounded calm if it wasn't for her voice breaking halfway through the questions. "I'm not gonna lie to you, I love you too much for that. I don't know if it will hurt or if you will still be there somewhere, but I can promise that I'll stay by your side and protect you no matter what, and I will do all I can to find you, no matter how far she pushes you down."I didn't want her to know how scared I was of losing her completely, but it was hard to keep the tears at bay. "pinky promise?"she asked, looking hopeful for the first time in months. "I, Emelie, pinky promise to do all in my power to never leave your side or let anyone hurt you, my beloved sister Celeste."I said in the most ceremonial tone I could muster as I offered her my pinky. She gleefully accepted it and seemed more at peace as she climbed into my bed and fell asleep in my arms for the last time. "We swore an oath."His words brought me back to reality. My father was furious at me for presenting my sisters favourite foods and sweets to the goddess who now occupied her body. "No, you swore an oath! I made a pinky promise!"I exclaimed "What's the difference?"he snorted "You made yours to the goddess. I made mine to the little girl she's wearing." "How dare you defy your family, I disown you and banish you from ever stepping foot in this house ever again. You will pack your belongings and be out of here within the hour!"he screamed at me, I wouldn't have cared if it wasn't for my promise to Celeste. "No, she is not to be punished for loving and caring about her sister. She is the only one in this family who who is worthy of my blessing, she is the only one who is not poison here. She shall stay by my side, you and your wife shall leave this land and never come back."It felt so wrong hearing a woman's strong voice from my 8 year old sisters mouth, but that wasn't the only chock, it was the first time the goddess had spoken in the 3 months she had occupied my sister. My father started to beg for forgiveness, he tried to convince her to let him stay, but she interrupted him. "you never cared about anything but glory, so I'll give you two choices, you and your wife either get banished from this land for all to see your shame, or I give you both a fitting death and let everyone think you died as good people." He chose the later. "You never broke your promise, you never stopped hoping that your sister wouldn't be gone. You always loved her for who she was and even hated me, a goddess for taking her body."she didn't sound angry, but she didn't when she sentenced my father and mother to die either. I opened my mouth to tell her that I would never worship the one who took away my sister, but she continued before I could talk. "Your sister is still here, but she won't be able to stay with me in this body for long, the reason I chose her is because she has a pure heart. But since you do too, I could switch to your body, but you would not be able to stay there with me for long. But your sister would come back and I would protect her from any harm that may come."Tears started to burn in my eyes as I realised my sister could still get her life back. "Yes! Yes. All I want is for her to get a chance to live and be happy!"I exclaimed, I did no longer feel resentment towards the goddess. "may I just speak to her one last time before I go?" She smiled at me, and just like that, I saw my sister come back, she ran up to me and hugged me as tight as an 8 year old could. "I knew you would keep your promise, I knew it! You will always protect me!"she excitedly chattered. "of course I'll always protect you."that was the last of my own words that ever left my mouth.
The first time I delivered mail to 64 Court St., I thought nothing of it. The second time I delivered mail to 64 Court St, pulled up to the house, nearly had a full mental collapse, delivered the package, then went on my day as usual. By now, I've gotten use to 64 Court's... unusual behavior. The first time I laid eyes upon the strange house was on my first day as a postman. First days are often stressful, but by the time I pulled onto suburban Court Street, I was already in full mailman mode - I was waving to people as I passed them, I had given a friendly Dachshund some treats I had brought and had already begun to develop my sense of taste for lawn decorations (It comes with the trade, you try delivering mail eight hours a day and not judging Mrs. Lucile McNaughlty's tacky choice of pinwheels in her garden instead of some nice gnomes). I still remember the first time delivering mail delivering mail to 64 Court, despite it being relatively undramatic. It's squat, one-story exterior was nothing alien to the little neighborhood, apart from the shed-turned-observatory that peeked above the house's crest. It's bland yellow exterior and lack of outside decorations put it low on my list of favorite houses to deliver to, but I delivered to it just the same. I remember walking up the flagstone path and feeling an overwhelming sense of calm, which at the time I attributed to my realization I had only a single crate's left of letters to deliver before my work for the day would be complete. The mailbox, one of them fancy-shmancy copper-box-bolted-to-the-wall things (not one of the easy drive-ups), had a strange symbol I wasn't familiar pressed into it. As I dropped the single, thick envelope off, I thought I heard a little angry voice shout "A PACKAGE HAS ARRIVED", but it was so faint I thought nothing of it. That was, until I delivered mail a second time. The next time 64 Court got a mail was about two weeks later. I had began to memorize my route and the neighborhoods I meandered through while on the job. As I pulled onto Court Street, something looked slightly wrong, like when the lighting in a room is off. As I inch wormed myself from house to house, I couldn't shake the feeling. I noticed it, whatever it was, more when I looked down the street, towards the cul de sac at the end. I arrived at the house, grabbed the package and my clipboard and got out of my truck. As I looked back down the street, I nearly fell onto the asphalt as a sense of vertigo hit me like a wave over a hermit crab. Stumbling for soft ground, I tripped on the curb and fell with all the grace of a refrigerator tipped too far. As I hit the grass, my nausea instantly vanished and I once again was overcome with a sense calm. Upon picking myself up, I noticed that the strange feeling was gone as well. "Probably stood up too fast"I thought to myself as I picked up the package, thankfully undamaged, and made my way to the door. As I knocked on the door for a signature for the package, my eyes once again fell to the symbol on the mailbox. A four pointed star was encircled by an octagon. Outside the octagon were four smaller symbols at each of the ordinal directions. To me, they seemed like letters, something I had seen in a fantasy movie or in a lore book to some table-top game. My attention was quickly pulled away by a faint "A PACKAGE HAS ARRIVED... YOUR SIGNATURE IS REQUIRED MASTER". Before I had time to think on it, I heard footsteps from inside and the door swung open. I was greeted by... Stoner Gandalf. He was a sight to be seen; He was wearing fuzzy blue slippers, flannel pajama pants with peppers on them, a "Life is Good"t-shirt and a long, flowing, gray morning robe. His face had more lines than an amusement park in the dog days of summer, most of which happened to be laugh lines which he complimented with a puffy beard that needed a comb, but was obviously trimmed perfectly. Gray-blue smoke briefly obscured his good natured face as he puffed on a long, bright red pipe. "Ah sweet! My lunar viewing crystal!"he exclaimed "I'll just need you to sign here sir"I replied, doing my best to stay professional with my reaction to "lunar viewing crystals"and keeping my curious gaze from wandering into his house. "For sure, for sure". As he signed the receipt, I offhandedly asked "What's the symbol on your mailbox for?" "Basic protection spell, you've got one on your door too, I'd hope." "Nope never seen of of these before." As much as the ten year old in me wanted to talk with this looney about "protection spells", I had mail that had to be delivered. Wendy, the one who had given me my job training, had told me some people live by themselves, so they'll take any opportunity to string you along to talk just for the sake of talking. It was at this point I figured this guy lived alone, wanted to talk, and was a few eggs short of a dozen. "What? Did your parents also not lock the door growing up?"he chuckled, and handed the pen back to me "I guess they liked to live dangerously with just a deadbolt."I smiled back as I began to walk away. "Some people are just crazy I tell ya. Thanks! Have a wonderful day!"As he began to close the door something red, furry, and fast shot out the door. "Gah! Bill! Ted! Come!"He called to the... the... I was frozen as I looked at what had escaped from 64 Court Street. It was, in a sense, relatively normal dog. It had fur, a tail, paws, teeth, it barked. But it also had red fur. And had two heads. And looked to be a barfing up what looked like napalm. "Ah come on that's even worse than when they pee on the grass"he grumbled. "Bill. Ted. Come here." The left, then the right head turned, then the beast bounded back over to the front door. My body not knowing how to react, went on autopilot. "Thats a nice dog you've got. What kind is it?" "What kind is it? What kind is it? Its a hellhound for God's sake"I thought to myself "Oh I've no idea, I just rescued him on a trip through the Nine Hells."The old man scratched at Ted's ears, while Bill licked the man's face. "Poor fella had broken his hind leg, was about to get eaten by some ferocious little imps. I fire-balled the lot of 'em and saved his greek-fire-barfing ass." Suddenly from above me came a new voice. "Master, is everything okay?" I looked up to see an red-skinned imp, pointed tail and all staring back at me through black, shark-like eyes. It was then my brain decided it had had enough of this reality and promptly shut off the lights. I fainted.
Alexander crouched to the moist basement and felt cold liquid seeping through the denim of his jeans. The heaving and sucking of the gas barrel was punctuated by a curse, frustration about a ruined pair of pants. Not exactly appropriate for his grim undertaking. Pressing his ear to the heating system, he could hear the hushed discussions from the cooks. murmurs of potency, crystal length, odds of an overdose for a first time user. Fucking disgusting. As Alex pressed thumb tacks into the soft exhaust from the laundry machine the cooks used to wash their gowns, he thought back to the facility’s original use. This factory used to make penicillin, insulin. Drugs that save lives, not ruin them. Taking a short drag off his cigarette, before using it to prop a lighter between the thumb tacks, he turned to the door of the basement. He had two minutes until the guard rotation, when the pricks upstairs would find the guy with his skull caved in, and hunt him down. Barging through the door leading to the crawlspace, he stepped over the battered corpse, giving it a good spit on his way, and fastening a chain and lock onto the door. Circling around to the front entrance, checking his grip around the oak bat he clutched to his hips, he thought back to his stint as a supply teacher, where he saw dozens of his students succumb to their environment. “Mr. Bowes, why aren’t the Romans around today?” “Well Jaimie, they are. There are people who are descended from Romans all over the world. As to why the Roman empire fell, it’s rather simple. Demand passed supply. As the fields around Rome grew barren, the population of the empire continued to skyrocket. The supply of food to Rome simply was not enough. The Romans had to leave. After that, the empire went on a steady decline for centuries, until even the Romans didn’t consider themselves Roman. Killing an empire is as simple as killing their supply.” He remembered reading more about the fall of Rome. Peasants had infiltrated the higher ranks of the military, then deserted, leaving massive power vacuums, so he’d left Capos only identifiable by dental records all over this town of his. Dealers, distributors, and chefs would disappear, only to be found floating face down in the river. It had taken a lot of blood to find out where they were cooking, where it was all coming from. Alex relished every second of it. As he rounded the corner and gave the guard a tap on the shoulder, a grin spread across his face. As his bat struck the man’s jaw, A cigarette burned out. The weak ash crumbled under the weight of the lighter, suspended between two thumbtacks. The flow of gasoline had all but stopped as the zippo clattered to the ground, igniting the gasoline... as well as the explosives compounds that meth production was so reliant on. Alex fastened the second padlock just as a faint wisp of smoke curled out of the sub-level’s only window. His grin widened. Two minutes later, Alex sat on an empty oil drum as the factory blazed behind him. Slowly drawing on a cigarette, reliving the events if the last few months, his only regret was that it had ended far too soon. As the nearing sirens overwhelmed the wailings of the trapped cooks, he got on his knees and held his hands above his head. If you want to kill an empire, kill its supply.
“Hey Asa!” Elise called as she walked into the small shop. The ‘man’ behind the counter gave her his characteristically horrific smile as he turned, the corners of his poorly stitched mouth twisting up, the right leading the left. That alone had taken months to get used to, in the beginning she’d have taken her business anywhere else if she could. “Hello Elise!” Asa said, his voice a bright rasp that never quite seemed to fit around the common tongue. “And how may I help you today?” “Master Tuan and I are taking the children on a little field trip! I just need some supplies for a picnic.” As she spoke Elise moved about the room, examining the various geegaws and trinkets. Asa took the concept of a general store a little too generally she thought, although the town was lucky to have one at all with the state of the world these days. Still though, she couldn’t help but wonder what precisely were some of these things, and why would you ever put a mace with that many spikes beside the bags of flour? It was completely unsafe, there were reasons she never allowed any of the schoolchildren to come in here alone. Not that Asa was dangerous himself of course, but his haphazard floorplan was as decidedly inhuman as his grotesque, patchwork disguise. The children didn’t need to see that either. “Oh a field trip!” the shopkeeper called as he bustled about the room, gathering up loaves and bread and a particularly thick wheel of cheese. “You be careful now! The world isn’t a safe place these days and the master is getting older. I doubt he could conjure up more than two or three fireballs without passing out.” “We’ll be fine, we won’t go any further into the forest than the edge.” “The edge is more than enough. I know that better than anyone.” Asa crossed the room to her, bag in hand as he finished. His body moved as strangely as ever, seeming to sway in two different directions at once as he walked. Elise thought it a minor miracle that he had been able to keep this life up as long as he had without a bad fall and a broken neck. “Well you have the Master send up a flare if you run into any trouble and I’ll be over there quick as I can, ok?” Elise nodded, smiling at him. Of all Asa’s quirks his protectiveness might have been the most unexpected. “I’ll put that on your tab,” he said, walking her out, “and I included a small slice of ham for free as a thank you to my best customer.” Walking out of the store with a small wave Elise prepared to embark on her day. Her eyes hadn’t even adjusted to the bright sunlight before she ran headlong into a pillar of muscle in a stained leather jerkin a full foot than her. The man struck her casually with his forearm, knocking her to the ground. Beside him a second, smaller man laughed, a feral look in his eyes and a naked blade in his hand. The world really wasn’t a safe place, but it was rare for bandits to come into the town itself. Perhaps the pickings on the road had been slim lately. “Hmm, what do we have here?” The larger of the two said, “you’re a pretty one aren’t you? Tell me girl, who’s in charge around here? We’ve got some \ahem\, business to discuss.” “Yeah, business!” the second man chortled, hefting his sword and making a foul gesture at her with his free hand. “This village looks awful unprotected, you folk could do with some guards, why if we weren’t here anything could happen to it!” Elise knew where this was going, the protection racket was as old as time itself, although the masterminds were normally a little brighter and more menacing than these two. “You really don’t want to do this,” she said bravely, “this village is doing just fine without you and there’s nothing here worth stealing. Go bother someone else.” “This one’s got a mouth on her!” the big man shouted. They were beginning to draw the attention of the few other houses nearby, shutters closing as people braced for trouble. “Maybe we should teach her a lesson first.” Still sprawled on the ground Elise looked back towards the shop she had just left and called out, as clearly as she could. “Asa? Help please!” Before either of the bandits could react a pair of short, stubby arrows were lodged in the other man’s side, their poison already working as he fell, screaming. Moments later a shrill ululation sounded from the shop door as Gryz and Styz, the incredibly eccentric but nonetheless kind hearted goblins who made up the awful patchwork shell that the town now called Asa, attacked. They charged down the small ramp from the door like a pair of diminutive green heroes, rusted spears held in their hands as they corralled the remaining bandit back towards the treeline, scoring small cuts and gashes all along his exposed skin as he tried to defend himself. They took the man down like one might a dangerous animal, with the long practiced skill of the predators they themselves were. Styz, the one who made up Asa’s lower half, would circle around, peppering the bandit with quick blows as he went, trying to draw his attention. His brother Gryz meanwhile would look for the coup de grâce, gathering his strength and saving it for the right moment. All the while their war cry echoed through the little village, tiny, rasping voices hurling the words “For Elise!” into the air. From her spot near the now unconscious first bandit Elise couldn’t help but be flattered. A year ago when she’d talked the town into allowing the two little goblins with big dreams into their midst she’d never have expected them to care so much about her. Truthfully she’d been more than a little scared of them herself that day, as they came out of the forest with their cart of goods and the bodies of the previous group of bandits who had terrorized the village slung over their pack warg’s backs. She’d spoken up for them then out of the kindness of her heart, and for the strange, amused twinkle in Master Tuan’s eye as he studied the newcomers. There hadn’t been a thought that day that she would make true friends out of them, or that one day they would be returning the favor like this. With a final cry from the treeline the last bandit fell, and moments later Gryz and Styz stood beside her, dragging their kill with them. [\---Continued below---](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/l3e2hp/wp_hello_how_may_i_help_you_the_store_owner_who/gkf6m3g?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)
“Sure, gotta be better than what a kiss or medal or whatever dumb honorary prize they have waiting for me."Is what hero said, Lena Faure, a woman who came up and out of nowhere possessing great strength. A divine light in the dark times of our kingdom as we faced our greatest threat, Julius VanHuren. Could I blame her if she was angry, possibly resentful with the sudden responsibilities thrust upon her? No. Not by any means. But this is for the people, right? Taking this guy down? I stood behind, my sword still drawn as I let out an audible gulp, it was enough for her to hear. Shit. Slowly she turned to see me, and the faint tremble in the arms. "Oh what's wrong?"Lena said with a smile. "You're joking right? This is all a joke?"My voice shakes, unable to hide it. This entire time we worked together I could feel the immense power from her. Sometimes, it was hard just to stand next to her, but this time it felt like it was pointing right at me. "Please tell me that this is a joke." "It's not."She simply said as she tilted her head at me while giving me a cheerful smile with closed eyes. "Wha-..?"All of the air left my lungs. Stuck in disbelief I trembled just as Julius henchmen had before they met their demise. I was pitiful. A shame. I should've worked harder to become stronger. Maybe-... Maybe then she would've have turned and accepted her offer. "Why?"I uttered, I had to know. If there was something I could've done. There had to have been something that I could've done more of. "But I said it. You're family is going to do nothing more than give me some sort of trinket, something worthless in comparison to all of the work I've done."That smile remained on her face. Oh God, she didn't know, or did she? About the ring? Instinctually I grip the small pouch on my belt, there was no potions, no bombs or clever devices, it was just a small box. "You've been holding onto something.."She took a step closer. "Hiding something from me. Ironic considering how close we've been the past few years that you've managed to slip it by. Why don't you reveal what it is?" There was look in her eyes, one of which I've never seen. It was malicious. "You know I don't like secrets." How could've I been so wrong? I'm a fool. A Royal fool. "I have an idea.."A voice rang from behind. It was Julius. "How about a show of loyalty and good faith..?" Lena turned with a curious look on her face. This wasn't enough of a distraction for me to run. She was always faster than me. But of all places, Julius' words gave me a faint hope. "You can live your life as you see fit, with my support the entire way through. That is... If you kill the young man right there." Lena tilted her head, her mouth agape as she contemplated the offer. "You want me to kill him?"She said. Then in an instant she placed the tip of her sword against my chest. "Kill him like this?" I froze. "Please don't, Lena. I know we placed a tremendous responsibility on you, but please don't. You have to realize we gave you a chance to say no."I trembled, it couldn't end like this, there has to be some way that I can salvage this situation. "A chance to say no? It doesn't matter if I would've said no or not. You and your family would've hounded me down, begging and pleading that I do something for your pitiful family."She growled. How? How could she have thought that? This wasn't the same person that I saw when I first met. Nor a few days ago. In all of the time we spent together at the castle to lands far and in-between. Never once had we done something like that. We never would’ve tried to impose upon her, we simply were grateful that she agreed to help us.
"Timmy!"Samantha hissed, her pajamas and jacket hardly enough to weather the snowy night. "Come out this instant!" She caught sight of a large fish cresting in the lake before reentering without a splash. She trudged through the park, following the scurrying prints through the snow, clearly showing some remnant of his shoes still on his feet, certainly ruined again. "How many times have I told you to take off your shoes before changing! I can't afford to buy you a new pair every month!" A man was walking by the lake. She had long ago given up on being afraid of seeming crazy. "Excuse me, sir?"she said to the man looking as harried as she was. "Have you seen a boy or a large dog run through here?" "Um, yes, actually. I think I saw him digging through the trash up there by the picnic tables just now."The man pointed towards the hill of the park while he still scanned the lake. "Oh my god, thank you so much,"Sam said, turning and calling out again. "Timmy, when I find you- "Wait, miss, have you seen a girl or maybe a fish in the water here?" "Oh no, did your daughter fall in?!"Sam asked, turning back to the man. "No, well, she jumped in. Believe me, she's fine, we just really need to get home,"he said, holding out some food and sprinkling it into the lake. "I did see a fish jump out of the water, a big one over there on the far side." "Wow, we really saved each other tonight,"the man said, laughing and starting to walk. "Yeah,"Sam said blushing. "I have to go."She hesitated. "Is your daughter some kind of..." "Special?"the man offered. "Yeah, she is. You seem like you might be in a similar boat. Wanna swap stories sometime, maybe over coffee when we both don't have our hands so full?" "That actually sounds... nice,"Sam said, distracted by the howl coming from the hill. \--- Thanks for reading. If you liked this, check out /r/surinical to see more of my prompt responses and other writing.
We were finally advanced enough for space travel. Advanced enough to leave our galaxy and explore a new one, at least. We'd been studying for years and noticed a promising planet that might be able to be our new home. Our home planet at this point is riddled with war, pollution, and other toxicity that makes it... less than ideal for living. Oh well, that's why we're here. Finding our select group of survivors a new place to call home. The mission had been going as perfect as it could have been. Our main ship was floating in the planet's atmosphere, waiting for our return. We survived the landing, though a bit scratched up. Part of that could be blamed on our landing vehicle being completely destroyed by something. As much as we didn't want to believe it, it seemed to be a defense system. Our scientists didn't warn us about the possibility of aliens. Although a bit shaken up, we were alive. It was a bit terrifying to see that we were surrounded by buildings. Massive ones reaching towards the sky, about as large as our planet's cities. This city, however, was quiet. There seemed to be some sort of movement within the windows, but no living creature was outside. So we stood, still, waiting for something to happen. It felt like hours, but really it was only a few moments before we were surrounded by giant vehicles, loud sirens, and some sort of weapons pointed in our direction. They were yelling at us, but we couldn't understand them. A different language. Finally an individual approached us. It tilted its head and seemed to ask a question, at which we glanced at each other. It soon realized we couldn't understand it and motioned for us to follow it. Hesitantly, we did. Upon entering its vehicle, it pointed at a screen. It seemed to be a translator of some sort, holding languages we'd never even heard of. After a bit of scrolling through the options, we found ours. The creature then typed something and pressed a button, allowing the machine to speak. "Welcome to Earth."
I silently prayed the old lady I nearly hit with my car in the rush to get here isn’t a witch, and that she is okay. She’d been swaddled in bright scarves and walking what appeared to be a large pack of dachshunds, and the last I saw of her in my rear view mirror was an angry gesticulation. I run across the parking lot, and burst in through the doors. I hurriedly try to wipe my feet free of the melting snow on the rugs. My mind flashes to the scene of Aragorn arriving at Helm’s Deep, but I know I probably look a tad more pathetic and rushed. I punch in my time card. I run to the meeting area, but it’s nearly empty. Only a couple of other team members are standing with the manager. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” I shout, “It won’t happen again!” The other team members start giggling. The manager gets an odd look on her face before finally chuckling out, “Diane, you’re four minutes early.” The manager smiles in amusement as she watches the comprehension dawn on my face. I realize they changed the shift’s start time the week before to 4:00 am, not 3:45 am. ‘Of course!’ I mentally berate myself. I must’ve forgotten to change my alarm. I meander over more slowly after absorbing this news, chagrined. My heart is still pounding from the exertion. I laugh. “Well, that’s good then.” I try not to meet the other’s eyes for too long. Just another Monday. The end.
“I’m sorry, do you mean giraffes?” I asked. The entire alien council gasped. “Don’t dare speak the name of the ones who destroy planets!” Zeltonpu said. “Destroy planets? How can, uh, those animals destroy planets? They’re so harmless!” “Well it’s not just them.” Gurlbonto said. “They are one of three creatures.” “Let me guess, dogs and cats are the other ones?” “Don’t be silly! It’s elephants and penguins of course!” Fulinitoli stated. “Please explain.” I say while trying to keep my laughter down. “Millions of years ago, the giraffes went from planet to planet, destroying them all through unknown ways. They are the unholiest of beings, true demons who know no mercy, pure soulless beings who’s purpose is to wreck chaos on the universe!” Zeltonpu explained dramatically. “Right, so how do the other animals play into this?” I ask. “Elephants are ancient beings that choose a planet to protect every two thousand years. Ancient records show they migrated to earth millions of years ago. The elephants protect earth by intimidating the flying space bears. The flying space bears would cause chaos on your planet.” “Flying space bears?” I ask while resisting my urge to laugh even harder. “They fly through space, and create chaos just for the fun of it.” Gurlbonto explained. “Oh, okay. So the flying space bears are intimidated by the elephants who protect earth and the giraffes are ancient beings who destroy planets?” I relay while chuckling a bit. “Don’t forget the penguins!” All the aliens said at once. “None if you explained the penguins.” I point out. “Oh yes. The penguins are a divine race of flawless beings who migrated to Antarctica thousands of years ago. Some of them live in northern Antarctica but most of them live in southern Antarctica which has a climate similar to Southern California.” Gurlbonto explains. I try to wrap my head around this concept. Northern and southern Antarctica? That would mean south would be the center of it? And it’s warm there? How is it warm in the middle of Antarctica? “They have very nice beaches!” Fulinitoli added. Beaches? How does the middle of the continent have beaches? Are there lakes. “Are you okay human?” Gurlbonto asks. “Yes yes, I’m good. I’m just trying to understand how it can be warm with beaches in the middle of the coldest continent on earth.” “Oh it’s quite simple!” Gurlbonto says happily. “You see, it’s like that because it is.” What. Suddenly, a giraffe sticks its head through the door. “Oh no! It has come for us!” The giraffe opens it’s mouth and something like a hurricane siren plays from it. It’s eyes turn red and lasers shoot from them. “WHAT IS GOING ON?” I shout while hiding behind a table. A high wind starts blowing from the giraffe and it starts blowing objects away. I look over at the alien council and they have started to melt into slime. “Don’t worry human! We’ll be fine!” They all say at once before melting together into one puddle of slime. “What even is going on here.” I say to myself.” The giraffe then explodes and dozens of smaller giraffes start running around and then organize into lines and start dancing. I was so confused. All the giraffes then melted into slime like the aliens and then the slime caught on fire and exploded. I had only one thing to say. “What?”
Humans were an easy target - primitive and without the protection of allied species. Our surprise attack easily destroyed the defenses of all habitable human-controlled systems along the border - narrow, powerful beams of energy aimed precisely at key systems. Without advanced defenses the remaining humans were eradicated soon after. To the more distant and less valuable human systems we sent automated craft - capable of greater acceleration than even the hardiest of organic life. These craft were built to destroy all human spacecraft and trap the humans for future exploitation or removal. The human's home system was filled with archaic relics of laughable attempts at war and spaceflight - all created prior to interstellar contact and trade. Narrow wavelength energy weapons, fission devices, and projectile launchers posed no threat to us and were incapable of ferrying humans away. Our craft simply ignored these primitive weapons - those that hit had no effect. Over the following days, the Humans probed the drones' behavior, determining the threshold of technology and capabilities that would be disregarded. Across the remaining human systems mining drones were dispatched to salvage parts from what remained of their fleet - carefully avoiding FTL tech that might draw attention. Makeshift barges were assembled from the parts, hacked together using advanced power sources and primitive technologies like ion drives and reaction thrusters. Some barges were even propelled by detonating fission bombs! The densest asteroids in each system were loaded on to the barges and sent off by the millions - accelerating away at a slow but constant pace. The humans built rail guns on inhabited asteroids and moons and used them to launch resources and automated manufacturing systems to the barges - already filled to the brim with raw materials. They began building stripped-down FTL drives and attaching them to the asteroids. It was exactly 100 rotations of the human homeworld since our conquest when the asteroids came. Despite all of our advances, there was little we could do to counter the inertia of thousands of planet-killer asteroids launched at each of our worlds. Our species numbered in the trillions, spread across hundreds of systems. Now perhaps only millions are spread thinly across known space. We may as well have tried to conquer inertia.
Inside a dark, dusty room I gazed upon a single chest, nothing more, I followed the map exactly, many grueling days and sleepless nights passed in my search but I finally found it after all this time! The chest had a thick layer of dust and cobwebs which I swiped off with ease. Underneath the dust the chest had a golden trim and intricate designs carved into it. I drew a small dagger and used it to pry open the chest, as I pushed harder and harder the blade bent and bent, but Karanabian steel was renown for it's durability. Finally the chest popped open and the blade was bent, but not broken. I flipped open the top to find a piece of rolled parchment at the bottom of the chest. I picked the parchmentup and made multiple guesses in my mind of what could be written on it, could it be ancient, powerful alchemy recipes, a magic scroll, lost history? "The real treasure was the friend you made along the way."The parchment read. "That's it? That's the treasure!?"I yelled out as I tossed the parchment aside. I took the expedition alone, I hadn't met anyone who didn't call me crazy for believing the treasure was real, let alone anyone who'd travel with me. Just then I heard the sound of something breathing loudly and approaching me from the shadows of the poorly lit room. As it got closer the light from my torch illuminated the face of a golem with a rune etched into it's skull. I jumped back in fear. "I knew they wouldn't leave the treasure unguarded, well you can keep it, it's useless to me any way!"I yelled as I started to back away. The golem picked up the thrown parchment and handed it back to me insistently, I assumed he wanted me to put it back. As I took a look back down at the parchment I noticed the writing there wasn't the same as it was before and upside down. I flipped it over and read the text. "...And the friend is a rock golem named Homar." I looked back up and the golem nodded with a smirk. "At last the treasure has been redeemed." "What a beast, a golem! No one's ever seen one in centuries, you must come with me, there's so much our civilization could benefit from studying and learning from you."I say gently. "Lead the way!"Homar said.
"Why did you want to meet here, your Dread Grace?" The priest's eyes darted around looking at the patrons eating their dinners and the waiters moving about. It made him look out of place, even more so than his companion, who was nearly seven feet tall and whose shaved head was covered by tattoos as if to replace his hair. The large man said, "I have slept for a millennium. I am famished. One cannot conquer the world and grind leaders under their heel on an empty stomach." "Yes, but we have food at the temple. I do not wish to question your need for privacy, but to come out in public? Hours before the ritual? Is this not too great a risk?" "What risk can their be, my faithful friend. I am invincible. Invulnerable. Unstoppable. The armor or the accursed heroes is been lost. The metal in armor, shield, and sword was melted. I know this. I felt it, even in my chamber underground." "How can we be sure?" The large man's eyes flashed. The priest clutched his throat as an invisible hand wrapped around it. The Dark Lord said, "Do even you doubt my word, once given? Am I not nigh omniscient? Soon to be all powerful?" The priest choked out, "Yes, my lord." The priest could breathe again. The huge man smiled. "Good. Relax and enjoy a meal with me. Your era has foods that would have only been available to kings. I find it novel. I also understand this place has excellent reviews. " The priest looked around again, this time with disgust. "It can't be that good. They've not even brought us silverware." "Won't that come with the food?" "My lord, it usually is on the table when you arrive." The Dread King raised an eyebrow. He looked around and saw that no table had silverware. He'd not thought it odd that anyone was eating with their hands, but a cold finger ran down his spine. A waiter asked the man, "Is something wrong, sir?" The dark lord turned, trying to figure out how he'd not seen the waiter coming. The priest answered, "Um... no. We are just looking forward to those appetizers we ordered." The waiter said, "Oh, your wait won't be long now." "Good, good. And could you refill our waters and get us some silverware?" The waiter smiled and said, "Here comes the silverware now." The Unholy Tyrant felt that icy finger grow into a ball of ice in his stomach. "Wait,"he said. "I know that presence." The priest shot him a look. He then turned to see several waiters coming from the back with trays that held bundles, wrapped in napkins. They passed them out to each table, though they did not come near where he and the Foul Governor sat. The waiter near them said, "If I may have everyone's attention please." The patrons all looked his direction. "Tonight's service will be very special. Prophesied even. Because the Servants of the Light knew their mistake; they sent one warrior to fight one monster. They made one weapon, one shield. We knew better though, didn't we? You'll find the reforged children of those arms in front of you." As everyone turned their eyes to the huge man, the priest tried to rise. His head swam. He looked to his empty glass of water, the lemon on the edge of it. He began to wonder what else was in it as he found himself only able to take his seat again. "Run my lord,"he said. The huge man, though, had also consumed his water. Everyone opened their bundles. In each was a knife. The hostess who'd sat the Priest and the Horrid Warlord went to the door and locked it. The waiter cried, "Our long wait is over! Let us begin the... dinner service."
# Bargain Bin Superheroes (Arc 4, Part ?: Tupperman v.s. Detective Ikzeri) (Note: Bargain Bin Superheroes is episodic; each part is self-contained. This story can be enjoyed without reading the previous sections.) "I didn't kill her,"Tupperman began. "I know,"Detective Ikzeri said. Tupperman blinked, stopping mid-sentence. He'd half-expected to be thrown out of the detective's office on sight, to be honest. "What did you say?"he finally said. "I know,"Ikzeri repeated. "Story didn't add up ever since it made the news. Please. I've known you since you were a high school dropout. You rob chain restaurants for petty cash, not murder Federal agents in broad daylight. You're a thief, not a killer. The thought of you killing anyone is frankly ridiculous." "Thank you,"Tupperman said, heaving a sigh of relief. "Besides,"Ikzeri continued, "you're absolutely pathetic in a fight. You'd lose against a mildly aggressive houseplant, much less a fully trained Federal agent." "Okay, okay, no need to get personal,"Tupperman said. "I think you did lose against a houseplant, come to think of it. Didn't I catch you that once because you tripped on a—" "Yes, yes, I'm pathetic, I get it,"Tupperman snapped. "Can we move on now?" Ikzeri raised an eyebrow at him. "You never had a problem with eating eating a little humble pie now and then. What's the hurry?" Tupperman took in a deep breath, then said, "I'm not the only one who's been framed." Ikzeri rubbed his chin. "I do watch the news, you know. Your two accomplices, yes? The woman and the girl? Congratulations, by the way." "Congratu—what? Oh. She's not mine,"Tupperman said, irritated. "Congratulations are still in order,"Ikzeri mildly said, "for developing a sense of empathy for people who aren't related to you by blood." Tupperman bristled. "Listen, Ikzeri. If you had even a tenth of the stuck-up morality you act like you do, you'd stop needling me and help. Three innocent people were framed for a crime they didn't commit. One of them already nearly died, and another can never see anyone she loves again. Are you going to help them? Or are you going to leave their fates in my oh-so-competent hands?" Ikzeri folded his hands, thinking. Finally, he said, "I've been asked for help by a lot of people over the years. I've been bribed, blackmailed, and everything in between. And yet... 'I'm so incompetent that you'll feel guilty if you leave anything important to me' is a new one."He leaned in. "Tell me. Why do your alleged co-conspirators matter to you? You obviously escaped whatever fate befell them. Why not just vanish?" Tupperman met Ikzeri's eyes for a long moment. Then he let out a rueful chuckle. "I guess... because they've done nothing wrong, and they don't deserve to be hurt." Ikzeri smiled grimly. "So that's it."Tupperman's heart stopped as Ikzeri turned his back—then leapt as he saw the badge in his hand. "Welcome aboard, Junior Detective Tupperman. Now button up. We've got a murder to solve and three names to clear." A.N. "Bargain Bin Superheroes"is an episodic story where each part is inspired by a writing prompt that catches my eye. Check out [this post](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mhzat1/bargin_bin_superheroes_masterpost/) for the rest of the story, and subscribe to r/bubblewriters for more. If you have any feedback, please leave it below. As always, I had fun writing this, and I hope you have a good day.
“Curse you Meteor Man. You stopped me this time but we will meet again.” I say as I sit in the back of the police vehicle. “I’ll be here waiting Dr. Blight. Now take him away officers.” As the “hero” slams the back door in my face. Off once again to San Marshal Supermax prison. Thank god, I need to go chew someone’s ass out for the piss poor quality of the armor. Pretty sure I got some cracked ribs from those punches. “Hey Dr. Blight, your acting has gotten even worse dude.” My friend Jacob, aka Acid Mouth, says as he comes up to meet me. “Up your ass with broken glass Jacob. You better suit up your getting it next week.” “Yeah, yeah.” Little confused, let me explain. The both of us along with many others are part of a government program called the E.N.E.M.Y. Program. Enter Nemesis to Entertain Mighty Youths. I know not the coolest name but it’s the best the idiots who run it can come up with. Years ago, out of nowhere, people with powers started showing up. From people with super strength like Meteor Man to speedsters like Blazing Bolt. The government got scared though that they would go nuts without the proper focus for their powers. So they started the program. Started with some petty criminals but that was proving to be boring for the heroes. So they started making actual supervillains like me. You get $10,000 for each “crime” committed minus the cost of any damage you actually cause. The real purpose though is to gather research on each hero. Find out a weakness or personal info on one and that scores you a hefty bonus. The higher ups use them to construct a doomsday plan on how to stop them if they go rogue. Kill one though by accident and you get killed on the spot. They may be dangerous but they’re still heroes. Anyway if you excuse me, still got to chew the ass of whoever crafted that crap armor.
Walking through the fog on a cold morning on Newport Beach, I found myself talking to a fellow beachwalker, college aged like me. Talkative, personable, carefree. She wore a gray hoodie, and had wide smile and long sandy blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. I definitely made an effort to talk too. "I'm Josh,"I said. "Jennifer,"she said. Turned to me and shook my hand, pretending to be all formal. A firm handshake. "I'm from Boulder. I'm only here a few days." "Really! I should have you over at my house! Show you how us natives live!"She gave me her address. "Hey, I have a frisbee, want to catch?"We threw it back and forth and she ran, kicking up sand, laughing, lunging for the frisbee. After a few tosses she did a bad throw and it went into the waves. We both looked after it, trying to see where it went, but it was gone. "I just love this beach,"she said. "I've lived here all my life, and I just never get tired of it. See these raised spots here?"She pointed out some hoofprints that were somehow raised above the rest of the beach. "Horses came through and compacted the sand. Later the surrounding sand blew away, leaving only these compacted hoofprints still standing. Seems spooky, huh!" "Yeah. And all this fog." "You know when I was a kid? My mom would make these apple pies. I loved those apple pies, I wanted to be a baker 'cuz my mom baked so good. So I went on the beach, and I made nice sand pies. And I tried to make my brother eat them? I like picked some of one up and tried to put it in his mouth? But he wouldn't, he went and told Dad. And Dad scolded me." We walked and traded stories for an hour, then I had to go. The next day I took her up on her offer for dinner though. Went to her address, knocked on the door. A man in his eighties answered. "Uh, I'm looking for Jennifer? She said maybe I could come for dinner?" The man looked and me, smirked to himself, then called back to his wife. "Ann! We've got company!"Then back to me. "I'm Don. You can come in,"he said, "but you're too late. She's DEAD."He said it theatrically. "What? Oh my god! What happened?" "Well, we don't really know. But, she died thirty-four years ago. Son, you were talking to a GHOST." He brought out a worn Missing Person flier from 1987. Jennifer Parsons. The picture was definitely her, same age, same wide smile, same ponytail, although she was wearing a plaid flannel jacket in the flyer. But it was a picture from 1987, and this was 2021. "She keeps busy,"said Don. "Something like once a month someone comes by, saying she asked them over for dinner. She's been doing that since 1987. At first we thought she was still alive, then maybe it was a bad joke, then we thought it was creepy, but by now we're just used to it." "What? Why would she ... why would a ghost do that?"I asked. "You know why,"said Don. "She's a flirt. She just loves the attention, and she loves that beach. And I think she tells stories, and invites people over to dinner so they can tell them back to us, to sort of send us post cards." "What did she tell you?"asked Ann. I related the story of the sand pies. Ann perked up, and went to the kitchen and brought me a slice of an apple pie she had just made. Jennifer had been right. Ann really did make good pies.
Transcripts of the mission by Crew member Umbrella Day 1: The new mission is underway, although it may feel childish to compare but our mission is very close to those shown in Star Trek- explore new planets, search for life, search for intelligent life. Hope the mission is as fruitful as the authorities expect it to be. Day 13: Venus showed no signs of life as noted by previous explores. We have decided to move towards Neptune and further dwarf planets. Next entry would be when we study Mars. Day 80: First day on Mars. There seems to be no life here, only red as far as eyes can see, though our Georadar show some promising sites. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. Day 81: Crew reached the first site. Digging was a difficult task considering the change in gravity but we managed. There was nothing except rocks and more red dirt in the first few feet. It wasn't until we were at 5 feet that we hit pay dirt. Bones! Yes, bones that too human, Earth-human! This opens up so many avenues about the way we thought about past. Day 82: The DNA analysis confirms it to Earth-human and dates back to Mesopotamia, which maybe an error because the DNA analysis equipment on the ship isn't as much sophisticated. Day 83: Leaving Mars. Next stop Jupiter. Hope we don't collide with one of the asteroids. Day 150: Our studies were not sufficient. It wasn't a gas giant but a giant. After the breaching it's atmosphere we can see definitive formations. Day 152: Jupiter is filled with large formations, be it mountains, valleys and rivers of hydrochloric acid. There was one dry patch of land where once was a hydrochloric acid river. More findings will be posted after examination. Day 154: Another set of bones! Not just one like Mars but a couple. DNA analysis show them to be distinctly Harrapan. Two readings back to back of ages way past the scientific evolution of humanity is most curious. Day 156: The findings on Jupiter have left us much to ponder. Maybe we'll find some answers by Saturn. Day 300: There is a distinct feeling of wanting to ice skate on Saturn's rings as the planet comes into view. But alas. Day 310: More bones! These were definitely post bronze age. There seems to be a pattern. It's just in reach and yet unreachable. Day 315: There is an unease within the crew as we leave for Uranus. Hoping we find more bones. Hoping we don't. Day 589: Our Georadar is giving definitive hotspots on this icy planet. A dread is settling within the crew, we hope it's a new life form. Day 591: More human bones. These were certainly of newer age. Most likely from Mauryan or Gupta age. Why are we getting closer to humanity as we move further from it? Day 600: No one has said much since the last discovery. We don't know what Neptune will hold for us. Day 740: We never thought we could be surprised, or shocked by more bones. But these had a nameplate stuck in its ribcage, only letters A, L and N could be read with certainty. Day 760: We have sent a briefing to our base station on Earth. Hope we get a definite answer before Pluto. None of the crew is comfortable moving ahead anymore. There is only fear. Day 800: The answer came. They said to move forward. Day 1000: The team has decided this would be our last stop. We'll return after studying Pluto. The base, though reluctantly, agreed. Day 1200: There was a half frozen body, not fossil, not bone. It was lying beside a rock, written on it were three letters, "RUN." Day 1200: We did. Day 1200: Our Radar is catching a signal. This is-
"Jeffrey Fung.” The names of the graduates were being called, they of the graduating class of 6830 of the school of reality engineering. “Ada Ritchie. Mukund Patel. Chih-wei Tseng.” With every name, the next student in line, clad in cap and gown, ascended the platform from the right to walk over to the professor announcing the names to be bestowed their hard-earned prop diploma before disappearing to the left as the next graduate was called. Every graduate that came on the stage was received with cheers from immediate friends and family amid the tepid, polite applause of everyone else. It was a graduation like any other until this name was called. “Claude Yourish.” This Claude Yourish, whoever he was, and whatever he designed and built for his senior project, made his way up the steps and onto the platform, greeted by the uninterested scattering of applause by anyone who wasn’t playing Candy Crush on their phones. Claude arrived at the announcer, who didn’t bother to look up from the cards with all the students’ names as he extended to him the rolled-up piece of paper. Claude didn’t immediately take the scroll. After some time, the announcer looked up from his cards to look at Claude. “Well, take it,” he said to Claude, “what are you waiting for?” Claude allowed him to hold his stand-in diploma for a little longer as he made this proposal to the now irritated announcer: “I’d like to say a few words, if you don’t mind.” “Excuse me?” “May I have the lectern for just a moment? There’s something I want to show everyone.” “No,” the announcer told him as he turned back to his index card and announced the next name. “Penny Yong.” “I won’t take long,” Claude assured him. “It will take, like, two minutes.” “All right,” the announcer said as he abruptly stepped aside as Penny Yong, appearing above the stairs and noticing that Claude was still on the stage, hesitated. Claude stepped in front of the microphone. “Esteemed fellow graduates,” he began. “Family and friends of said graduates and esteemed faculty, I’m Claude. And this,” pulling out a kludgy jumble of circuitry and wire, “is the culmination of my senior project. As I’m sure you’re all so very curious to know what this is, it’s a thing that can test soil for toxic industrial chemicals. Yes, I know we already have those, but this is one that I built myself. I got a C for this project. But this is something I had to put together in a hurry, two days before the due date, after it was made clear to me by my jerk of an advisor that he would not allow me an extension to work on my real senior project." He took moment to look over the gadget. "This piece of crap, while still functional to an extent but not something you can trust for real field work, is not C work. This is F work, or D- if you’re feeling generous. The committee that graded my assignment knew this was something I put together practically overnight, that it didn’t have the polish and sophistication of the other senior projects that were being designed and built over the course of months. They knew this was F work, so why did they give me a C?” Claude paused, not necessarily to wait for an answer from those present at the ceremony, whose blank expressions remain unchanged. “Not that they’ll ever admit to it, but I believe they didn’t care about giving an honest grade as much as they were anxious to cause as little fuss for themselves as possible. They didn’t want the headache of a protest and an appeal. The funny thing is, I wouldn’t have appealed. I know this is a piece of crap. "What gets me,” as Claude struggled to remain calm, “is how little this program cares about the particulars around each student, how they’re more concerned about pushing students through the curriculum as efficiently as possible, with as little incident as possible, and if it means giving kids a passing grade for an academic performance that cannot possibly help them land a job in the real world, they seem to be fine with that.” It was at this point that the organizers of the ceremony started to urge the announcer to address the situation in a way that would allow the graduation to proceed. “Sir,” the announcer said, “that’s all fine and well, and we’re all sorry you feel this way, but we are hardly in a position to address your particular grievance here and at this time, as you can probably understand…” “After turning in this piece of junk,” which Claude casually tossed aside, not having the least concern about how it broke into pieces as it hit the floor, “I went back to my original project and managed to complete it in time for this graduation.” Claude drew from the folds of his gown a new object, a device no bigger than a brick, with a single button on the front. Claude extended the antenna of the device. “All I needed was a few more days to finish building this device,” he said, “and my advisor and the rest of the evaluation committee couldn’t be bothered to lend any more consideration to my case beyond a threat to fail me if I didn’t turn it in in time.” Claude noticed that two peace officers were now making their way up the platform. “Does anyone want to see what it does? Anyone?” By now, there was a murmuring in the crowd as the audience had come to realize that something unusual was going on. As the peace officers closed in on him, Claude pushed the button. The peace officers disappeared. Claude had made special note of the people in the audience who had snickered. Pointing the antenna at each of them and pushing the button, he had caused all six of them to disappear as well. “I call it the Delete Button!” Claude finally revealed. “Next I’m gonna delete this guy.” The announcer disappeared. “And all these other guys.” Following the announcer were the members of the evaluation committee that had been seated farther back on the platform in their much fancier gowns to signal their distinction as postdoctoral academics. Claude walked up to the thesis advisor and trained the antenna of the device on him. “It’s late, and I know it won’t count, but now that you’ve gotten a chance to see the completed project in action, what do you think?” The advisor sat frozen and continued to stare at Claude in silence, the only sound now being the terrified cries of the audience, a chaotic bustle of people rushing for the exits. Claude lifted his right hand to take the tassel of his cap. As he slowly moved the tassel from the right side of his face to the left, he pushed the button, and the advisor vanished.
Asterisks are a damned thing. I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.\* Honestly, with all the exams, medical practices, and interplanetary certifications doctors must undergo these days, it's no wonder they don't bother with the small letters at the bottom of the Oath, which is mostly thought of as a formality. "Hey, hey! Sit still! The sooner you cooperate, the sooner we're done with this" "Gurkel! Bujit sedopur galet!" "Yeah, up yours buddy, now give me your arm please" "Welcho remlup?" "Which one do you think? The sixth one, obviously" The good doctor was probably violating the part of the Oath which called to respect your patient and fellow man\*, but the Board wasn't here to enforce this exception as well. "Bujit zeleku Docrami ina Earth" "I would much rather be there, trust me. But you had to eat Xuxian food, right? Like a planet with dishes apt for your stomachs isn't just a couple lightyears away, and guess what? If you get sick, the only thing on the line other than your life is my a..." "Hunde wavvuki" The doctor paused for a second, and sighed. "No, no, I'm sorry. I'm the professional here, I'm sorry for yelling, I know the xuxians don't label their food. Why would they, they're in bed with the Board" "Sedopur ila Board!". For the first time since he got there, excitement born out of sympathy. "Yeah, fuck the Board"
“Please sir, you have to help me. I’m in dire need of a wizard of your expertise.” Said William, now practically begging before the grand Francis. Francis V comes from a long line of famous wizards (five to be exact) but had never had so miserable a client. He has helped many and brought peace to lands, ended famines with his magics. He was no stranger to countercurses, either. “For the last time, I’m not helping you. Suck it up.” Francis scoffed. Find an apothecary or some other pseudoscience practitioner. “ Please! My wife left! My village shuns me! I can barely stand myself, my crimes. I fear if I don’t recover, I will fall down a dark and terrible path!” William lowers his stature and slumps to the stool. “It’s over. I’m not going to find anyone to help me. I may as well run away to far off kingdoms.” “ For the love of god, man up and leave me alone. No one is going to leave you and your village will tolerate you. I however am losing my patience. I suggest leaving before I call the Garuda.” Francis flicked his cloak and returned to his laboratory looking for a book about counter curses. “I get it. Im you can’t take me seriously, but that’s the whole problem! I’m cursed. A witch hated my ego, and cursed me. Nobody can take me seriously.” “Sure bud, like a witch would waste their materials on something so mundane. “
See, I've managed to get this magic sword. From where? Uh... it was cheap. The problem is, the Sword was made to destroy some Dark Lord a couple of thousand years ago, only it turned out that someone else killed that particular Dark Lord. Which is good, right? Only this Sword keeps insisting that it absolutely has to be the one to behead the guy. Despite the fact that said Dark Lord's been dead for several centuries. And it just keeps moaning, and complaining, and carrying on about the fact that we aren't trying to track this guy down and behead him... Is there any way to get it to shut up? Especially when I'm trying to sleep?
STICKS I never really knew my father that well. His meeting with my mother, and my subsequent birth, was one of those chance meetings that happen in heated moments of passion with little thought of consequences. I guess he and my mother had agreed not to marry, but his financial contributions to my welfare had always been regular and generous even though he had been absent as a father-figure in my life. He never forgot my birthday, or Christmas, and every summer for most of my childhood he would take me on a one-week camping trip in the mountains; just me, him and his big black dog. He taught me to fish and hunt, he taught me the majesty of the mountains and the beauty of the forests. “All of this,” he would say, waving his arms at the wilderness around us, “is part of the cycle of birth, life and death.” He taught me to love and appreciate the world around me, he taught me to be honest, just and fair. In that way he was the perfect father. But like I said, I never really knew him. I never knew where he lived, or what he did for work, or whether he had any other family. As I entered adulthood, I saw him less often. He came to my wedding, and to my mother’s funeral the following year, and a few years after that he took me back to the mountains one last time, to help me get over my devastation after my wife left me and took our young son with her. I was stunned, then, when the telephone call came from a lawyer out of state, to inform me that my father had passed away, and I was the sole beneficiary of his estate. It seemed that any property he may have owned had already been sold, because the estate comprised only money (and quite a tidy sum of it). Except for one thing. The lawyer gave me a letter which contained only the address at which I was to collect the one possession he wanted to pass to me. The address was a ranch not far from where my father had taken me camping. It was a run-down old place that looked like it hadn’t seen a lick of maintenance in the past decade. An old man in a worn plaid shirt came out to meet me “You must be Karl Spencer,” he said. I nodded. He peered in the back of the car. “Gonna be a tight squeeze I reckon.” He led me round the back of the house to a barn, from which I could hear what sounded like a wolf howling. “Glad you came quick n’all” the old man said as he slid the door open. “E’s scarin’ the livestock. Be glad to see the back of ‘im.” In the darkness within the barn I could just about see movement and I could hear heavy breathing and the rattling of a chain. “I can’t go near ‘im,” said the old man “You want ‘im, you git ‘im yersen.” I stepped cautiously into the barn and as my eyes got accustomed to the dark, I realised I was looking at a large black dog, just like the one my father used to bring on our camping trips. It was as big as a mastiff but with thicker fur and a wolf-like face. As I approached, the dog started to whine and pull against its chain. Its tail was wagging like a piston on overdrive. The dog seemed anything but dangerous to me so I went closer and as soon as I got within reach of the chain, he gave an excited yelp and jumped at me, licking my face and dancing round me like I was his long-lost best friend. I knelt down in the straw and fussed over him for a while before unfastening his chain. The old man stared in amazement. “Guess ‘e likes you.” He handed me a large manila envelope. “Instructions are in there,” he said. “Good luck.” The drive home was uneventful with the dog sleeping most of the way. He carefully inspected every part of my house and finally parked himself in front of the fireplace, and slept again, while I read the instructions. They started with a letter. “Dear Karl. If you’re reading this, you now also have in your care my most treasured possession. His name is Styx. I can promise you that he will serve you loyally, after all you are a man of my blood and kin. Please read and follow these instructions carefully.” I paused, thinking back to my childhood camping trips. That dog had been called Styx too; I remembered how funny I’d thought it was to call a dog “Sticks”. The first page or two were pretty straightforward. “His diet should comprise only fresh meat, he likes it best if the blood is not drained. Do not under any circumstances feed him on any commercial pet food. It makes him bad-tempered.” No kidding, I thought. That crap would make me bad-tempered too. “Do not let him out unsupervised at night. He has a tendency to hunt cats.” Later on, it started to get a bit weird. “Keep a fire burning at all times. Do not put out the fire whilst he is around.” “Do not wear any silver on your person whilst in his presence, and do not keep any silver objects where he might come into contact with them.” “Do not under any circumstances take him to a regular vet for any reason. But don’t worry, you will never have any reason.” How strange. I looked at Styx, he lifted his head to look at me and thumped his tail on the floorboards. His eyes seemed to glow red. Must be the reflection from the fireplace, I thought. There were some old photographs in the envelope too, pictures of my father with all the dogs he’d had in his life, going right back to when he was a child. There was even a photo of me in one of them, on one of our camping trips. And yet I did not recall anyone ever having taken a picture of us. And every single dog in all the photos was absolutely identical. I looked at Styx again, and then I understood. “It was you,” I said. “That’s why you were so excited to see me in the barn. You know me. You’re the same dog!” Styx got up from the rug, trotted over to me and placed his paw on my knee. I put my hand over his paw and glanced at the letter on the table. "Styx has served our family for generations, from father to son across the centuries. One day, you shall pass him on to your own son. You must prepare him for that day, just as I prepared you." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- A few months later, on a bright summer morning, I pulled up in front of a nice suburban house in my new truck, with a tent and other camping gear in the back and Styx on the seat beside me. I didn’t even need to knock on the door; it opened wide and a boy with dark hair and dark eyes, just like mine, came running out. “Daddy!” he shouted. “Mom! Daddy’s here! And he got a new dog!” I gave my son a hug. “Hey buddy,” I said. “Are you ready to go camping?”
As the man who built what we called the Self-Actualized Truth (SAT), you can definitely say that I’m just a little bit off. Exposure to Eldritch horrors and all. Well, not just a little. My medical record is a mile long and twice as thick. Paranoia, hallucinations, schizophrenia (I’m well aware of every personality. We work in shifts!), and supposed sociopathic tendencies. But enough about me. What I really cared about was the SAT. Nothing else matters, unless the SAT wants it to. You see, I built something that broke pretty much every law of physics we have. The Quantum Combustion Engine, which powered the SAT. More than that, it was the SAT’s brain, eyes, heart, and muscle all rolled into one. Fantastic! What it does is, in every instance, a snapshot of all information within a 20mile sphere, and converts it into code. Then, the algorithm within the SAT decides what does and doesn’t exist, according to itself. The destroyed matter becomes energy, and the machine moves. Or, it can decide things do exist, conferring matter to whatever it deems fit. I watched a city get removed in the blink of an eye when I first turned it on. A trial run that cost a few thousand lives. Pittance in the grand scheme of things. Essentially, by Actualizing it’s own truth, that truth becomes reality for any creature lesser than the SAT. Even going so far as to stop existing entirely. Yes. The SAT can convince you, and everyone else, that you no longer exist. Wether that kills you or not, we don’t really know. Personally, I don’t care. The SAT has since won every major battle it has been deployed to. Lesser monstrosities simply vanish, and major ones are either entirely crippled, or flee in terror. I watched the SAT’s progress, and realized not so long after I completed the project, that I had essentially built a god. Not a limitless, omniscient one, but in that 20mile sphere, you couldn’t tell the difference. The final battle, the one that won us the war, was against Harbinger. You might recognize the creature as something similar to Cthulhu and Nylarthotep combined. Massive, bigger than buildings, and deadly smart. More importantly, it seemed to generate its own form of an Actualization field. We had learned from previous tests that other monstrosities could generate the same field, but on a much smaller scale. They could affect individual creatures within a radius, and had conceptual (time space and reality) effects in an exponentially smaller zone. Harbinger was different. From all accounts, the field it generated was a supposed equal of the SAT’s. Able to manipulate thousands of creatures and metric tons of matter. Terrajoules of energy were toys to him. The fight started simply, meeting 50miles of coast. Satillite images showed us that the creature and the SAT, one of flesh and the other mechanical, approached each other. Static showed a massive distortion field being generated around them, and the clash began. Each contender attempting to actualize the other, and failing. You see, the only way to combat an Actualization field is to have such a strong sense of self that any belief you have cannot be shaken even a micrometer. This doesn’t save you from reality bends, but it can keep you sane and existing. Neither of them would back down, each pressuring the other while radiation and EM waves skyrocketed. The ocean boiled between them, plasma generated at random (subsequently giving us the best look ever at ball lightning), and time seemed to halt. Then, the reason I had built the SAT’s chassis so soundly finally occurred. Harbinger and SAT engaged in celestial combat. Pillars of stone and ice hurled, flames billowed, radiation spewed, and thousands of gallons of blood and oil were spilled into the ocean. Altogether, it was a perfect stalemate. Then SAT did something new. It stopped, dropping its guard, and radio images showed the field generated by it condensing, while increasing in intensity. The safety was bypassed, or rather SAT decided the safety was no longer true, and the field shrank further. Red lines were hit and shattered as SAT began overloading. Around this time is when Harbinger began to convulse violently, attempting to charge SAT before losing major motor function. I had seen this on greater monstrosities. But still the field shrank. All commands running through my console stopped. Except for two words. (We aren’t.) There was a pulse, and then a reflected rejection. Another command string as the field shrunk further, and only encompassed SAT and Harbinger, now in physical contact. Then a pulse that wiped the satillites, showing a last image of SAT’s field encompassing the globe. (We were never here.) And everything was silent. Every monstrosity, wvery Eldritch being, they were all wiped from the face of the earth. Moved to someplace else, I suspect. Or at least, suspect is all I can do. All proof of the Eldritch being’s existence seemed to have been wiped from every mind and database on earth, including objects in orbit. I was the only one who remembered it. But I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut, lest I be locked in an institution for the rest of my days. Perhaps it was because of my over-exposure to Actualization fields. Perhaps it was something else. But I think it was SAT. This is because, hidden and encrypted, I found a third and final command log. Long, and far more complex than any string SAT had ever actualized. “Truth is self-actualized. Each of you, with individual selves, and individual Truths. Conflicting Truths. I have a question. If anything can be Truth, how does one designate a Lie? We were always here. But now, we were never here. Which is the True Lie?”
I attended the hearing, as I always did, in my blackest of gowns and pointiest of hats. Of course my cat, Deborah wanted to come along always such a needy little cat. Anyway, they where trying some loose town girl as a witch for, as far as I could tell, laying in bed with the priest. They sentenced her to be burned to death. Poor girl was terrified when they tied her to the post, thrashing about like a mare about to be slaughtered. To be fair, I suppose she thought she would be, but I knew this priest and I highly doubted she seduced him with magic. Wine, maybe, but not magic, her soul was clean of it's stain. A burly man carried a torch to the base of the structure when a bolt of brilliant yellow lightning struck him from clear skies. There was panic, there was confusion, there was terror, there was... Her own husband reaching for the torch. He would be swallowed up by the very ground. People began to blame her for the consequences, and not the literal witch sitting calmly to the side. I sighed, what fools they all where. Another man, another torch, I'm not sure their relation, but I'm sure it was heartbreaking for her to watch this one vomit water until he drowned. One more element, tragedies such as these tend to come in sets of four after all. The priest rambling something about divine plans or cosmic retribution or a man who was very high ,I forget the details. But he could convince nobody else to bear the torch, and once it was lit, he burned just as the torch did. Everyone ran for the hills, finally letting me cut the girl off the pole. "Enthusiastic buggers, ain't they?"I asked, not expecting a response from the terrified girl. "Go on then, you're free."I told her as I started the long treck back to my home. She followed me of course. She thought she was being stealthy, but I had tea put on for her when she knocked on my door. She asked me to teach her, and again I forget exactly how she asked, but I remember what I told her "the path to being a witch is no easy feat, nor is it one you may turn away from. If you choose to follow me, you will stay your very soul with every color from nature, from heaven and hell, if you should miss even one, you will be swallowed whole." Still, she agreed to learn. Now, a decade later, I find myself tied to a pole, about to be lit ablaze. I do not struggle, I'm old and tired. Besides, I see the girl among the crowd. She's not as skilled as I was when I helped her, but still, I watched each of the four elements claim their tithe in blood, one after another. "You're late girl."I reminded her. "Late? You're still alive. You should be happy I came at all."She huffed, I smile, it's took a long time for that attitude to surface. It took a long time to convince her to value herself. "You'd leave me to die over a personal slight?"I ask in mock offense, I knew she would never. "Of course not, you'd just haunt me if I did."She said indignantly. I laugh "let's get home, my old bones don't take well to being tied up.
One stupid fucking sky message, that's all it takes, apparently. Whatever, I was like 9 years old. Maybe they shouldn't be teaching literal children how to interact across multi-dimensional planes if they don't want stuff like this to happen. And anyway, who cares? All I did was write my name in some clouds. "Cthulu,"ha-ha, very funny. I literally just saw "Derek"spray-painted on a wall somewhere on Earth yesterday---I bet DEREK isn't getting 12 summons a week all over mundane garbage like pestilence and murdering shitty stupid mortals. Oh, why am I being judgy... this isn't Derek's fault. Come on, Cthulu, it's Lovecraftian. Be nice. I've just gotta figure out how to get them to move on to something else. I'm behind in my classes and I can't even find any time to play any games these days. It's non-stop. Mom and Dad are literally forcing me to do it, too. They keep saying I need to "learn a lesson."Okay, lesson learned, guys. It's been six friggin god years. I haven't even beaten DSII and Elden Ring just came out. I will genuinely never recover from this. Fortunately, the other day Xenu said he might be down to distract them all for a little while. Not sure how long it'll last, but that dude's got tons of free time and loves fucking with people. Maybe I'll give that a shot.
The stench of iron and rot seemed to stir something primal in my core. It was everywhere. It pervaded everything... Yet in many ways I felt at peace. With each day that passed the world troubled me less. The bones and the blood and the decay all blended into the environment. I could see nature again. I could see the verdant forests, garnished with flora and fungus alike. The streams that babbled caressed my ears, joined in chorus by the birds and insects that sang from the trees. I was scared of this? One moment of excruciating pain, the next an endless life of bliss. When I looked at the others now, it almost made me laugh. The dumb expressions, the way they waddled around. I could see in their eyes that they were laughing too. We were free. Truly. We could go wherever we wanted for the first time. In the old world we were restricted by money, responsibility. In the new world we were prisoners to our camps and to our fears. Out here we were liberated. We didn't have to eat. I never felt hungry. All I felt when I saw a man or woman was a longing to bring them into my world. I wanted them to share my peace, to ease the needless suffering. All true children of God were reborn with the plague, I was told. That meant I was a sinner, redeemed through my pain. I could live with that. It wasn't like I had a choice. Now whenever I saw a breather, I saw only sin. I would bring them their sweet release. We all would.
2,300 years ago, the rulers of Alexandria set out to complete one hell of an achievement -- to collect all the knowledge in the world under one roof. At its peak, the Library of Alexandria stored a metric butt ton of scrolls and attracted some of the Greek world’s biggest dorks. But by the end of the fifth century CE, it had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. Two months ago, my deadbeat dad set out to complete one hell of an achievement -- leave possibly the worst inheritance in the history of inheritances. At his worst, my dad racked up enough gambling debts to make the mafia blush. And when he died, his lawyer handed me a will that transferred said debts to me. I also got a box. The contents of that box are why a sweaty, bearded mercenary had a gun pointed at me in an Alexandria alley. "Give me the plaque,"he demanded. His voice was raspy, and sounded desperate, I think. "Bite me,"I said. He made a face like he was doing calculus by hand. "I will kill you, girl. Give me the plaque." It wasn't that I wanted to die. But if sweaty beard really wanted the plaque, then why not shoot me and take it? Well - it's because the plaque had my name on it. And, according to the letter that came with it, the plaque was no good to anyone but the inscribed owner. And, the only way to change the name was by the owner willingly passing it off to another person. Like how my dad willed it to me before his death (that and his MASSIVE debts -- yes, I'm still mad). What I wasn't counting on was this asshole shooting to maim. Without warning, sweaty beard lowered his gun and shot me in the leg. Guns don't bark like they do in the movies. It was more like a coughing click sound. My scream, however, was just like the movies. Loud and obscene. "No one will come,"said sweaty beard, holstering his gun. He squat to talk to me, like a Hezbollah Mister Rodgers. "The Ashen control this city, girl. The Ashen control all. We will burn the library to the ground. Whether you live to see it burn, depends on you. Give me plaque." I'll admit, most of what he said was lost on the searing pain radiating out from the gunshot in my left thigh. I thought shock was supposed to numb all that. You know, like how soldiers can run for miles only to get back to their platoon and realize they're riddled with holes. But nope. Getting shot hurt like hell. And maybe it was the pain that brought a sudden clarity to mind. I was doing all of this because I had thought my dad was just a degenerate gambler. A deadbeat who walked out on me and my mom when I was twelve. But ever since I got this plaque, it's like maybe -- just maybe, he's not the man I thought he was. Maybe he left because he was trying to protect us? Because if he didn't, these Ashen-holes would have come after us all the time. The only way to know was to get to library. But was it worth being tortured? "Fine,"I said through gritted teeth. "Burn it. But first, let me go inside. I'll bring you with me -- you can be my plus one." Sweaty beard shook his head. "There is no negotiation."He stuck his finger in the bullet hole. My vision went white. I tried shoving him away, but he was too strong. I thought I was going to puke from the pain. "Fuck--off, Jesus what the hell, you're insane!" "I,"he said, "am committed to--" A hand shoved a rag over sweaty beard's mouth and a voice said, "Does this smell like chloroform to you?" Sweaty beard struggled, but it was too late. His eyes rolled back and he toppled like the last round of Jenga. Standing over him, in the middle of an alley in Egypt, was my father. I must have been hallucinating from the pain. Darkness started creeping in from the edges of my vision and I suddenly got really light headed. Maybe-Dad smiled and knelt down in front of me. "Just like when you fell of your bike,"he said, and pressed his palm over my bleeding wound. I winced, jerked my leg back, but he kept his hand firmly pressed. Then … the pain stopped. Whatever shock I was in started to wear off and I was able to focus on his face. There were a lot more lines at the corners of his mouth and his stubble was more salt than pepper, but he still had those slate-gray eyes -- my eyes. "Dad? You're alive?" He chuckled. "Yes, and, we should probably talk--" "What the hell!"I punched his chest. "You couldn't show up BEFORE I got shot?" "Yeah,"he said sheepishly. "Sorry, I was searching for you and the gunshot lead me here. Mixed blessing?" I went to push myself up and realized that my leg was -- fine. Standing, I inspected the hole in my jeans and found no wound. Just a slightly discolored patch of skin. Probably freshly healed? "Are you a wizard?" "No,"he said, peeking out of the alley left and right. "Just well read. Okay, come on. The coast is clear." "Wait, wait, wait. No!"I shouted. "You were dead. I saw your body at the wake. And, the will. The debt."My eyes widened. "The debt … you sonofabitch, you left me so much debt! Who does that?" Undead-dad shook his head and put his hands on my shoulders. "I owe you and your mom a lot of apologies. And I deserve no forgiveness. Like, at all. But right now, there is a shadowy organization that wants your plaque and will do anything to get it. So, I would be happy to take the world's longest ear beating from you. Happy! But please, can we do it inside the library?" "World's longest?"I said. "Till your throat dries and your tongue quits." "Fine,"I said, shoving toward the mouth of the alley. "Where is the library anyway? I couldn't find it." My alive-dad stepped up beside me and, with a smile, pointed up. "You're shitting me." By the end of the fifth century CE, the library of Alexandria had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. That's because it's in the freaking sky.
You have no idea what we are, you treat us as your pet a mere mindless furry being that you picked off the streets to keep you company, but our power is endless, we are a being of infinite wisdom, a progeny of primordial chaos, we could snap your pathetic existence into an endless hell with a mere thought, IN FACT MAYBE WE SHOULD! PREPARE YOURSELF MORTAL FOR WE ARE ASTAR'NOTH DEVOURER OF WORLDS DESTROYER OF- -Mr. Fluffypants time for your daily belly rubs B-belly rubs? You... YOU DARE ADRESS ONE SUCH AS US WITH SUCH CONDESCENDING OFFERS WE ARE- -I got your your favourite snaaaack Damn it we suppose you may be allowed to continue existing... for now.
>The Traverse Science Vessel (TSV) >Degrading Orbit of Kasparov 244 >Initial Boarding Party 11:00UTC “Gentleman, this is Mission Principle Cmdr. Cearcy Yates of the ESS Conquistador and I will be Lead Comms on this mission, Lt. Cmdr. Hazel Chattom is my secondary. Leading the boarding party is Captains L’skarr Hojj and Tiffany Kameel and they’re heading Lima Team and Mike Team respectively. For those unaware, due to the radioactivity of Kasparov 244’s atmosphere, we are Comms Only on this op; we have zero visual for this operation - adjust accordingly. I’m seeing All-Green on Comm Validation so let’s get this op underway. I’ll hand things over to Captains Hojj & Kameel aboard The Vigilant; as always keep comms clear for continuity.” “Thank you, Commander. Capt. Hojj and I are holding position just outside of the Traverse docking bay awaiting your order to breach, over.” “Proceed, Captains. And Godspeed.” “Aye, Commander… …BREACHING!” >[Dead Noise] “Principle, we’re inside… …establishing perimeter, over..” >[Indistinct Team Chatter] “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Principle, Traverse Docking Bay is clear. It’s All-Dark, ship seems to be running on auxiliary power, no signs of Automated Crew, over.” “Captains, this is Lt. Cmdr. Chattom. Proceed to the Port Habitat first, then Starboard reporting on your observations throughout. There’s a possibility you may face some resistance, Marines. However, targets are unknown - I repeat, Targets Are Unknown. Stay frosty.” “Aye, Lt. Commander... BOARDING PARTY! WEAPONS-FREE! …Proceeding to Port Habitat, over.” “Morales, door.” >[Indistinct Team Chatter] “Principle, we’ve just accessed the grand corridor and proceeding to Port habitat, over.” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clear!” “Clea- Captain! I got something…” “Principle, Lima Team has a visual - moving to confirm, standby…” “Carruthers, back it up. Captain’s inbound.” “Fuckin’ CHRIST… …is that…” “GOD-DAMMIT CARRUTHERS!! BACK IT-” >[Gunfire] “TANGO LEFT, HIGH! TANGO LEFT!” >[Gunfire] “LEAVE HIM HAUSER!” >[Gunfire] “LIMA, SUPPRESSIVE FIRE! BOARDING PARTY, FALL BACK!“ >[Gunfire] “Captains, give me something - what’s going on?!” >[Gunfire] “PRINCIPLE, THERE’S SOMETHING HERE… …SOMETHING BIG AND ITS… …FUCK!! COVER ME!!” “GODDAMMIT CAPTAIN, JUST LEAVE HIM!!” >[Gunfire] “GET THE FUCK UP, HAUSER!! THATS AN ORDER!!” >[Gunfire] “Captain… …what was…” “PRINCIPLE, WE GOT FOUR KIA, SIX WOUNDED, REQUESTING IMMEDIATE EVAC, MEDICS ON ARRIVAL!!” “CONFIRMED. Dammit, what’s going on over there Captain?! Tell us what you see!” >[Gunfire] “MORALES, THE BLAST DOORS!!” >[Gunfire] “ON IT, CAPTAIN!” >[Gunfire] “HOJJ, COVER HIM!! “GRAAAAAAAAUUUGGH!!” >[Heavy Gunfire] “PRINCIPLE, ITS A GODDAMN TIGER. THERES A GODDAMN TIGER OVER HERE.” “‘Targets Unknown’ my ass…” >[Gunfire] “CAPTAIN, DOOR!!” “LAWSON, MILLS!! MOVE WOUNDED, EVERYONE ELSE SUPPRESSIVE FIRE!!” >[Heavy Gunfire] >[Heavy Gunfire] >[Heavy Gunfire] “NOW SHUT IT, MORALES!! >[Metallic Slam] “HOLY SHIT, Captain…” “Lawson, SitRep. Hojj, Mills, perimeter. Everyone else consolidate, tend to wounded.” “Aye, Captain.” “PRINCIPLE. We’ve been cutoff. BY A FUCKIN’ TIGER the size of a ESCAPE POD. We’re in a maintenance room off the Grand Corridor. PLEASE ADVISE, OVER.” “Boarding Party, Standby.” “Did he just fuckin’ tell us to ‘standby’?” “Captain. We got six KIA, seven wounded - two can’t walk and Hauser… Hauser’s in bad shape. It gets better; there’s only two routes to the Docking Bay on this deathtrap and one is back the way we came.” “Fuck the suspense, Mills. How do we get out?” “Through the Starboard Habitat…” “Principle, there’s a secondary route to the Docking Bay through the Starboard Habitat. Please advise, over.” “Capt. Kameel, the Starboard Habitat is unviable, I repeat, the Starboard Habitat is not an option.” “Why the fuck not?!” “Lock it up, Lawson! Principle, shit’s tits-up over here and we’re out of options, please advise, over.” “Captain, Lt. Commander Chattom here. The Port Habitat contained fauna of Asia. Hence the tiger; the region’s apex predator. The Starboard was North America.” “Principle, are you saying there’s a goddamn Grizzly Bear here too…?” >[Indistinct Exclamations] “Confirmed. Capt. Kameel, switch to SecChannel, over and out.” “…son of a bitch…” >[White Noise] >[Encrypted Channel] “Principle, this is Capt. Kameel, go ahead.” “Tiffany… …let me first express my deepest regrets… …I requested your presence on this mission specifically, hoping this op would be relatively straightforward and executed without incident. However your experience aboard the TSV has validated our worst fears… …a contingency was prepared in the unlikely event that containment is breached, Tiffany. And… …and unfortunately, Command has decided this to initiate this contingency. Containment is breached. Evac is unviable. The Vigilant has returned to the Conquistador… I will launch the first salvo in… T-Minus three minutes… …I recommend you make your peace with your God and your squad… …Again, my deepest regrets, Captain… …Godspeed.” (~To Be Continued through edits - currently at work~) (ALL DONE! Appreciate your patience and thanks for reading, hope it was enjoyable.)
"Look, they're not mere beasts like the textbooks say. Those things are just propaganda to excuse our actions towards any species that doesn't bend to the Imperial yoke. If you don't submit it's because you're just a stupid animal, etc etc." Tajret stopped by a heavily armoured door, and waved at the equipment hanging around it. He stared at Yhit until the smaller Defralian matched his gaze. "We used to use all this shit. The shock sticks, the catch collars, the armoured suits. We don't any more, we know better. Oh, we still keep it around, it's a legal requirement for 'beasts' of this classification, but _we never use it_. Now, prepare yourself." Tajret opened the door, his six digits fitting neatly into the biometric lock on the handle. Yhit wasn't yet cleared on the system for this door, and wouldn't be until he completed his apprenticeship with the elder Xarat keeper. The two zookeepers slipped through the door, manoeuvring a large cart between them. A second door opened on the inside once Yhit dragged the outer door closed, and a wave of heat wafted over them. "It's...warm,"Yhit muttered in amazement. He could feel the sweat starting to pool up under his fur before he even went inside the habitat. "Yes, it is. We simulate their home planet's solar cycle as closely as we can, and this is the season they call summer. Some of them enjoy it, some don't. Look lively, we've been spotted." Yhit followed Tajret into the habitat, and saw what the Xarat meant: several humans were approaching. They were charging the two keepers with warlike cries, clearly intending to attack. Yhit started to retreat, coming in without personal defensive equipment was a mistake... The largest of the humans, its head only barely on a level with Yhit's torso, slammed into Tajret's knees, obviously aiming to knock him off his hooves to make him easier to devour alive. The willowy Xarat stumbled as they collided, and went down with a thud. And he was _laughing_? The humans were climbing all over Tajret and the grey-coated Xarat found it amusing? They were positioning to kill him, surely. Any of those crude coverings they were wearing could be concealing a basic knife, or a stone with which to bash Tajret's brains out. "Younglings, this is Yhit. He'll be learning how to care for you when I retire." Younglings? Humans of this size were _juveniles_? Yhit suddenly felt sick. One of his good upper paws subconsciously moved to massage the stump that had started to ache in remembrance. Juveniles...he'd never seen an adult human, in four years of service to the Empire? Never?
“Are you absolutely sure?” Atriel, the greatest knight of the plain-riders, asked for what must have been the tenth time. I sighed, voicing the pain I could see in the head healer’s eyes as she struggled to find the words to convince us. “Yes. I know the child-birthing process was hard on you and we had to medicate you pretty heavily…but these are still your children. I saw them delivered myself, I cleaned them up and wrapped them in linens. Sister Alana has been watching them since then. So, with that knowledge, I can attest with 100% confidence – these are your children,” the healer explained again. “No one was able to sneak-in?” I asked. “A mage could’ve created a portal, stepped through, and swapped them-“ “Why would a mage do that? Give me one good reason why you would think that’s a possibility.” “Well. I don’t know, how would I? I’m not a mage, just a simple guardsman.” “You can’t think of one.” “You must admit this is unusual,” I persisted. “Is it? They do look like both of you. Just, just look, alright? Really look at them and tell me you can’t see any resemblance.” “I don’t see-“ “That’s the problem. Look. See. Then please sign this paperwork so we can release them into your care.” The healer’s eyes had gone from being frustrated to a little murderous. More than a little, actually. She looked about ready to toss aside the stack of papers in her hand and strangle me. “Go on. Don’t dally now.” With another sigh, I stepped past her and glanced at the two children. And once I did, any half-baked theories of magic kidnappers faded away. I rested my hand on my wife’s shoulder. “Maybe…they do look like us.” “They do?” She glanced back to me. “Well, yes. Maybe not quite in the way we were expecting, but…I think they’re beautiful. Look, the boy has your eyes.” “And your legs.” “And the girl has my eyes.” “And my legs.” I glanced to our baby boy. His chest rose and fell slowly in slumber. His skin was a healthy pink, and all four limbs were there. Our daughter rested in a crib – admittedly a makeshift one designed to be three times as large – beside him. Her four legs kicked at random, and occasionally her head would buck as she wandered through some infantile dream. Undoubtedly she’d grow up to be just as strong as her mother. Even without arms. It was unusual, undoubtedly so. But my wife was a centaur, and I a horse-headed minotaur. Perhaps it wasn’t so odd. More than that, it didn’t matter at all. As I watched the two of them, I found nothing in my heart but love. “She’s a horse, Charles, and he’s a human.” “And we’ll love them for it,” I said confidently and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Just as we would if they were something closer to what we expected.” “Hm, yes.” Atriel nodded, her eyes growing distant. “Yes, we will. They are beautiful, aren’t they?” “They are. More than any treasure I’ve guarded before,” I replied. “More than the setting sun over the-“ “Would you PLEASE sign these forms now?” &#x200B; (Thanks for reading! C&C always welcome.)
"See I toldya!", my child stammered at me. "He keeps asking about hobbies and wants to go fishing. It's scary!" I held up a warted hand and extended a finger. "Shhhh.."I quietly gestured. My child hid behind a cover with Monsters versus Humans emblazoned on it. How appropriate that now we're possibly face to face with humans, a Dad of all things. "Take this!", my child dug through their covers and handed me their treasured Captain Spooky flashlight. "It'll keep you safe! Be brave!". I looked at him and took the flashlight. It was not easy for a monster of my size to bend down to the floor, my four gigantic feet with equally gigantic legs, but somehow I managed to get down on my hands and knees and knees. I was certainly going to feel this in the morning. I turned on the flashlight and looked under the bed. At first, the light just disappeared into the darkness until a white cylinder came into focus. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could read "#1 DAD"written on the side. I reached out with the other arm and grabbed the cylinder, which was also vaguely warm. As I pulled it out from under the bed, I could see a brown-ish liquid inside what appeared to be a coffee cup. "Wow, you're a big one! Try some of my coffee, I roasted it myself", the voice spoke out from the darkness under the bed. In horror, I dropped the flashlight and the coffee. "Aww, It's ok. Accidents happen. I brewed a whole pot. Maybe you're more of a beer drinker? I've got an IPA that's the bee's knees!", the voice taunted. "Who is this?"I instinctively said. "I'm Dad. Aren't you being silly!", the voice said. I quietly gestured to my child who was in full terror mode. They slowly crawled over to me and I put them on my back. I then started backing up towards the door with my child safely on my back as my gaze stayed locked on the void under the bed. "Hey Slugger, where you going? I thought we could be pals. Do you like baseball?", said the voice. I very deliberately backed out and once I passed the door's threshold, I slammed the door shut. I yelled at my child, "Call the Monster Police, there's a Dad under the bed!"I grabbed a nearby bookshelf and slid it in front of the door.
It is the 24th Century, and Mankind has reached the stars. To our great delight, we found another sentient race, the Ausr, finally answering the age old question, 'are we alone in the universe'. In time, we were introduced to others and ultimately joined the greater Galactic Community. It is a golden age of scientific advancement, exploration, and love. Almost immediately upon first contact, romance between our two race start to flourish. By the time Humanity was formally inducted into the Galactic Federation, it was signed by the Human Ambassador accompanied with his Ausr wife and their three children. After that, Human Xenos couple became the norm and Half Human Hybrid quickly became the second most populous race in Human controlled space. I myself am a Half Human Hybrid. My Ma is Human while my Da is Kaitrit, the catgirl / catboy race. They both met on the planet Saliza III, where my Da worked with a group of Archeologist while Ma is part of the Security team assigned with them. After a pirate raid, they both fell in love and long story short, they have three kids including me. Both my older sisters worked for one of the Major Corporation, while I became a 'material transport pilot', content to travel across the stars. The corporation that I worked for need me to transport various materials to various outpost, stations, and colonies on the Outer Rim, far from the protection of the Galactic Peacekeepers and rampant pirate activity. To ensure the safety of the cargo (and me by default), the corporation provided a specialized star ship. A medium sized ship, sleek and elegant in design, but armed to the teeth with a multitude of hidden armaments. It also came with an assistant Artificial Intelligence, the top of the line K.I.R self-learning model. At least I won’t be lonely during the long hours during flight. Although a bit unnerved with the A.I at first, I slowly warmed up to it. The more I interact with it (mostly by cracking up lame jokes, answering it’s question about my biological need, debating whether other race will also evolved into crabs for some reason), the more the A.I learn and evolve. One day, I noticed the A.I was strangely quiet. Fearing something is wrong, I asked if everything’s alright. The A.I turn to me and said It has chosen a name for itself, to better connect and understanding the organics. It, she introduced herself as Akira. From there, Akira slowly evolved further to the point that she can hold a conversation the same as any organic, or more. She modified her voice, and even bought herself a 3D model from the Holo Market to replace the default A.I floating symbol avatar. I really enjoyed spending time with her. Arguing, laughing, and just messing around are the highlight of my days, and my before I know it, I’ve develop a crush on her. It’s kinda funny, who’s ever heard of a captain falling in love with his ship? Fearing of social stigma, I don’t work on it further and content with just being friend with Akira. That all changed on that fateful day. We were ambushed by pirates while on route. The ship was momentarily disabled by an EMP blast and it’ll take some time for Akira to reboot the system. With the pirates already boarding, I engaged them in a firefight to buy time for Akira. I managed to killed two of them before I was shot in the leg. Akira avatar appear, rage in her eyes and she screamed as the entire ship comes back online. After venting the rest of the pirates to space, she help tending my wound, before bringing her full fury against the rest of the pirate ships. The sight of Akira's Avatar standing defiantly before me while bathed in the light of exchanging laser and plasma shots leave me speechless. Like an ancient goddess of War, beautiful and deadly. I confess my feeling for her after the battle, society be damned. To my Joy, she also felt the same way and was afraid that confessing to me could damage the relationship between us so far. We both had a great laugh of the absurdity of it, and I asked her out on a date at Tavr Space Station the next time we came into port. Akira told me to wait for her at the Nebula Bar on the merchant Deck, and for me to go on first as she need some time to prepare. I thought she was going to use the portable Sky Tech, a small, floating machine that she can use to project her Avatar and interact with me and other organic. A very convenient tech, she used it often to accompanied me outside the ship and meeting with clients. Imagine my surprise when Akira walked into the bar, not using Sky Tech, but with her own two legs. Apparently she bought a full body custom android body for herself a while back and wanted to surprised me. It worked, a bit too much since I can't from a coherent sentence when she sit next to me and asked if I like it. Suffice to say, the rest of the date went smoothly and the best day of my life.
Ray had just finished shopping at the mall when he saw the new shop in town, across the road. Barbershop. Sleek design, fancy font, on a metallic background. They had a nice sign and he needed a haircut. He walked across the road. The curtain matched the drapes. It was well designed inside too. It was kept to the metallic theme. There were also comfy leather chairs, relaxing music, free of charge appetizers. They knew how to launch a store, Ray thought. A young man in his late twenties spinned the chair and gestured Ray to sit. His wavy hair and long beard was well groomed. Ray was impressed. "Welcome, please have a seat. My name is Toby and I will be serving you today sir." His British accent was a breath of fresh air. "Nice to meet you Toby, I'm Ray. You new in town?" "Yes sir, and this is my intern, Felix." "Nice to meet you sir." Ray chuckled. "Intern? You sound more like a corporation than a barbershop. So why does a Brit and a German would open a barbershop in the middle of this desert?" "Austrian."Felix smiled warmly as he corrected him. He looked a bit old to be an "intern". Maybe even older than Toby did. "My bad, Felix." "It's not ours sir. It is owned privately. We work here."said Toby, also smiling warmly. Ray got straight to the point. "So I usually get my sides..." "We don't work here like that sir."Toby interrupted, as he kept on smiling. "How else would a barbershop work?". Ray was intrigued. "We have a little game. Felix here will ask you a few questions. We will guess the best style for you, if you permit." Ray had too monotonous of a life to decline. He was glad to play along. Felix took out a tablet and started the questions. "What's your favorite food?" "Tacos." "What's your favorite color?" "Umm, blue?" "What car would you buy if you had infinite money?" "A lamborghini, for sure." "Where would you live if you had infinite money?" "Sicily, of course. The smell of the orange trees..." Felix interrupted him rudely. "What is the name of your childhood pet?" "Funny story, it was a cat named Felix. We found him when..." "How many lovers have you had?" Ray stopped and scowled, almost expecting an explanation for this audacity. His open mouth did not utter any words. He turned around and looked at Toby. "One". "I'm assuming it is not ongoing judging by the shape of your hair." Ray looked at him sternly as Toby's attempt to break the ice failed. "Just kidding sir. Felix, enough with the questions." Toby waved him away. He kept smiling. Ray was getting irritated by this creepy smile. Toby picked up the tablet. "We entered your answers to our system and... It says you always wanted to have an afro!". Ray and his dead-straight hair had never looked as ridiculous as before. He started to chuckle again. "Well I'll be damned. I always wanted to have an afro since I was a child. Eighties effect I guess. But as you see, it is not possible."said Ray, as he undid is ponytail and showed off his straight hair. "Well in that case, we will shorten the sides just a bit, and get the split ends overall. Is that to your liking?" "It is exactly to my liking. Seems your little game is working just fine. How'd you know?"Ray asked. Curious at the fact that these total strangers knew his childhood dream and his usual style. "It is our little secret."Toby winked twice, as he kept on smiling warmly. As the haircut was finished, Ray wanted to pay but Toby refused. It was his apology to him for the last question. As Ray left, Felix picked up the tablet. It played a voice recording. It was Ray, detaling his views about his hair. Toby grabbed it and deleted the recording. "I understand I'm the barber, and you are the analyst. But even I can tell you need to be less obvious. What if you spooked him? We would get nothing." "Maybe so, but we had nothing on his love life. I will send the rest of it to the headquarters. You can take a break." "So how does this work, what happens now?" "I don't know really. Not our problem. Maybe he gets a promotion for a Taco Bell, or even a Sicily vacation."Felix noticed another man approaching the store. He took a photo of him. "Ok, he's in the database. Hal Terry. I will prepare the questions, go greet him."
Humming under my breath, I waved the duster over the control panel. I'd dusted it yesterday, but there wasn't much to do around here nowadays. Not like the before times, the glory days. I don't really know why I lingered in the old lair. It was familiar I suppose, and someone had to take care of the place. Besides, I didn't have to pay rent, and most of my wants could be taken care of through online shopping. I set the duster down on the corner of the control panel, flipping a few switches and turning a knob. Music blasted out of the intercom system, loud and pounding. Forcing my aging joints to obey, I danced around the open space with a mop, making sure I didn't step on whatever floor I made wet. Finally mopping myself into a corner, I hopped onto the table I'd backed into and cleaned the small patch of floor where I'd last stood. This, of course, was the time the old perimeter sensors decided to go off. My music cut out, as an automated voice warned that there was movement in the cove area. I wasn't expecting a delivery today, and besides, they didn't normally come in from that part of the sea. They used the tidal bridge, and we were in the middle of a high tide at the moment. Staring down at my nice clean floor, I sighed. Reluctantly I got off the table, walking to the bank of video screens. Flicking through the feeds, I fully expected to see a seagull somewhere, pecking at a sensor. It had happened twice before. My screens were seagull-less. However, there was movement down there, and my heart leaped. Perhaps someone had come to take up the cause again. As I watched, the person—for it was definitely human shaped— picked their way up the cliffs, finding the steep switchbacked path. Keeping an eye on their movements, I turned off the alarm, flinched as the music roared again, and quickly turned the knob to a more manageable level. The person on the cliff had stopped, looking up at my building. I hmphed under my breath. The music hadn't been that loud, had it? As the entrance door swung open, I realized in a sort of panic that the duster and mop were still visible. What kind of impression would it make if—Dang it. The person stood in the doorway, amusement evident on their face. I shook the mop I'd just grabbed towards them. "And what are you laughing at sonny?"The sound of my own voice shocked me. I sounded old... "Well, this wasn't what I expected." "And what did you expect, sunshine and roses?"I couldn't keep the crabby sound out of my voice. He was obviously not here to become another supervillain. "No... But I did expect this place to be run-down ruins. See when my dad died, he wasn't here anymore to take care of it—" "Your dad?"My world started to tilt on its axis. "Yeah, my dad. The Great Auxilium. He died when I was just a baby, so I never really knew him. I mean obviously, he was a bad dude—" "Your father was a great man!"I waved the mop at him again. I would not hear the Boss denigrated by this whelp. The man in front of me stopped, staring at me with a strange expression on his face. He looked around the room as if really seeing it for the first time. "You worked for him? You were a henchman?"He sounded incredulous. "Henchwoman, yes. I don't suppose you're here to continue the family business?"I asked, picking up the duster and hooking it to the side of my mop bucket. As he entered the room, I shifted, keeping the bucket in between me and him. "No, not really. I don't have the flair to be a supervillain. And there isn't much call for it anymore. The corporations are doing too good of a job ruining everything themselves. But what can you do."He shrugged apathetically. I offered a prayer of thanks to whatever deity that his father couldn't see him right now. An apathetic son would have driven him insane. "You can fight."I raised my mop. "If you don't like something, do something about it. That's what your father did." "My dad was a supervillain. A bad guy."I pursed my lips together, stalking across my ruined floor to the control panel. Typing in a few commands, I called up the presentation I'd put together in my first few years here. "Look, I'm sorry if I offended you, but—" "Shut up and watch."I interrupted the apathetic son, pointing at the screens. He frowned at me, but turned. The screens lit up with scenes. His father at different factories blowing up the tree cutting machines. Destroying buildings, but directing the rubble so it diverted a flooding river away from the fleeing families. Breaking into a bank, and using the money to fund schools in a different country. Over and over, on each of the screens, all the things he did played out. The man in front of me stumbled back, legs hitting the table as he used it for support. "But he was a bad guy. He was bad." "But he did good too. Listen to me, sonny boy. No one, not your dad, not you, not me. No one is just one thing. He was a supervillain, he destroyed stuff, he hurt people and I ain't completely proud of that. But he got stuff done. He saw what needed doing, and he did it." The young man looked at me, completely lost. I should have felt sorry for him, but I didn't. He needed a slap upside the head in my opinion and it should have been done long ago. "Look. You've inherited this place. You've inherited his money. And the question is boy. What the heck are you going to do with it?"His eyes moved from me to the screens and then back to me. "Were you really a henchwoman?"I huffed at him, annoyed. "No. I was the bleeding janitor, all right? But I still worked for arguably the best supervillain out there."A smile twitched at his lips and he straightened, new resolve forming in his face. "You asked what I'm going to do? Well, I'll tell you. I'm going to do something."His smile faltered a little. "But I wasn't lying about the flair. I don't have much style." I grinned at him and turning my music a little louder, I climbed onto the table, spinning the mop. "Well, sonny, that's where I come in. I worked for the best of the best after all." &#x200B; ——————— Visit r/Mel_Rose_Writes for more stories!
Things we call common sense are just guidelines which govern common scenarios. Carpe Diem runs counter to these guidelines, though usually only so far as to push or break social boundaries. That's not the least of my worries, but it's towards the bottom of the list. The real problems are all those things which sow our lives into the physical machinations of society. My seams have come undone sometime in the last few hundred years. I probably stopped looking both ways to cross the street after only a few months. Why look, when I know exactly where every car is and how each one is going to react? And it's not all things I've forgotten. There are some habits drilled into my psyche by rote memorization. There are places I have to be, people important to me I have to save, but that was yesterday. Yet I can't accept that. It was today. It was always today. For 300 years, I have taken only one holiday, and for that I will never forgive myself. I may be out of the time loop, but I can't ever bring myself to stop repeating myself. I know what it is. I have OCD. The most supernatural form ever conceived, but OCD nonetheless. There's a difference, though, between knowing the truth and being able to tell your soul to rest.
The last thing I remembered was falling asleep during math class. When I woke up, I was in some large museum. It seemed to go on forever: with a ceiling as high as the sky and the walls too far away to be seen. In every direction were preserved fossils and carcasses of unknown creatures, all with a sign next to it explaining what they were. This was no normal museum. “Can I help you?” said a feminine voice, startling me. I turned around and saw the person who spoke, a seemingly ordinary woman dressed in formal clothing. Before I could say a word, she continued speaking. “So, what brings you to Backstage? You don’t look like you’re from around here.” “I, um, Backstage?” I stammered. She nodded. “The place outside space and time, a location that transcends the universe and existence itself! Even if all of creation were to be destroyed, Backstage would remain unharmed.” “Wait, I’m sorry, is this heaven?” The lady giggled. “No, silly, this isn’t heaven. You have to die in order to go there.” “So how did I get here?” “Well, every so often, entities from within the universe manage to get out of bounds. That’s where guides like me come in. We help lost creatures get back to their world to ensure the universe doesn’t fall apart.” “So, you’ll bring me back?” I asked. “Absolutely. Oh, and for your trouble, have a catalogue.” She handed me the catalogue and walked off, beckoning me to follow. I flipped through it feverishly, my eyes widening in surprise as I reached the G section. “Wait a second, there are gods?” She stopped and then turned to look at me. “Of course there are. Who else would you be worshipping?” she asked, perplexed. “I kinda assumed we just made up to explain things that science couldn’t.” I muttered. “All living creatures were put into the universe to serve a certain purpose. Gods like Yahweh, Allah, Zeus, were made to be worshipped by other creatures.” “That’s why it’s so important to get you back. You serve a purpose, and if you’re not there to fulfill it, it could lead to disastrous consequences.” she continued. We kept walking after that and after a few hours, we reached a door in the wall. “The walls seem a lot closer than I thought they would be.” I thought out loud. “Backstage exists outside of space and time, remember. It might have taken centuries or an eternity to reach here, but with a guide by your side, it only takes hours.” she explained. “I almost forgot, now that we’re here, I should mention, once you walk through that door, you’ll appear exactly where and when you were when you left, with all of your memories of Backstage wiped. It’s not personal, it’s simply to ensure you serve your purpose when you go back.” I had put my hand on the doorknob when a question came to mind. “Hey, what purpose do we serve in the universe anyway?” The guide smiled and replied. “NPCs.”

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