prompt stringlengths 20 5.8k | chosen_story stringlengths 226 10k | rejected_story stringlengths 227 9.43k | chosen_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 17:01:55 2022-12-31 14:34:19 | rejected_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 14:23:36 2022-12-31 12:20:41 | chosen_upvotes int64 14 23.1k | rejected_upvotes int64 10 4.26k |
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[WP] We were warned when we hired our first human crew member that they would pack bond with almost anything. We didn't listen, and now have an apex predator somewhere in the ship, that the human won't stop calling Kitty. | A part of me argued that it really wasn't the human's fault. They were newcomers to the galactic stage. They hadn't developed the wealth of experiences that the other races had. Some even argued that their racial naivety was a strength. Freed from the long held grudges and stereotypes that other races held tightly to, humanity beheld the galaxy and all of its inhabitants with fresh eyes.
I wanted to believe that the humans could help us learn more about ourselves. In fact, I was one of the loudest voices in support of the new human crewmember. But even I had underestimated the human's ability to pack bond with inanimate objects and dangerous creatures.
"It's just a kitty!"
"No Human. A Theandraw is not -just- an anything! They are voracious predators who will eat anything that moves."
The human smiled widely at that. Logically, I knew that this was a sign of mirth, likely at my expense. But it was disturbing how such smiles displayed the sharper human canine teeth.
"That is the thing. You can't run from it. Then you are just -begging- to be chased. You have to let it come to you and smell you first. You have to let it know you. Then you can pet it all you like."
They-Jimu shuddered at the humans expression. Any Taldross who had ever gotten close enough for a Theandraw to smell their scent had become it's prey. Few were fortunate to survive such experiences.
They-Jimu had never put too much stock into the tall human stories that had spread through the quadrant. Surely they had to be exxageration or superstition. What species would willingly expose themselves to solar radiation burns on a regular basis because they found their bodies defensive mechanism to it visually appealing? There was another story, however. about humans turning all of their most fearsome predators into pets that was beginning to sound all too likely to be true.
"Theandraw do not allow themselves to be pet. Nor would any Taldross attempt it. The mere idea of it is ludicrous. An attempt at self destruction. These are not creatures that can be tamed! Fortunately, with the planet behind, we are safe. Just be more careful in the future Human."
The human's smile had only somehow grown at that.
"It's perfectly safe and well behaved! Here. I will show you!" The human had taken one of his left arms and lead him towards the cargo bays. The human truly didn't understand proper form at times.
"Show me what Human?" The cargo bay doors had loomed large above them as they approached.
"How well trained the kitty is! It's very smart you know. It does everything I ask." The human opened the cargo bay door and the smell washed out of it. Blood. With its weaker olfactory senses, the human didn't seem to notice.
"By the glories! You brought it with you?!?" They-Jimu scrambled back from the door, out of the human's hold. He scrambled for the doors emergency over-ride when soft thuds sounded nearby. He froze as primitive fear responses over-rode his brain. He could smell the stronger scent of blood with that particular musk all his people knew and feared. He turned to see the human approach the Theandraw. The small figure stood only half as tall as the creature but instead of attacking it merely reached out and pulled the human close. It even started licking the human, grooming it.
Understanding grew within They-Jimu. It really wasn't the human's fault. The alpha predator of the sector appeared to pose no threat to the human. It truly seemed to want to please it.
It was almost as if the "kitty" had claimed the human as it's property, or pet. And now as the human waves and urged They-Jimu to join it. He felt the eyes of death come to rest on him.
The human didn't understand. It really wasn't its fault.
Read more of my work at /r/The_Tales_Of_Jimothy | Edit: Thank you for the silver, whomever that was! :D
“Come on, guys! Where’d everyone go?” The human’s voice on the coms sounded bemused. It always sounded that way whenever he didn’t understand something about the other races on board the Arq, which honestly was quite often. Humanity was still far too new in the Galactic Consciousness to understand some of the finer nuances that were required for proper protocol when dealing with all the varied species across the universes, but still, here we were.
I could have cursed Drak and his entire clanline for having had the bright idea of bringing this human aboard. This was supposed to have been a simple transport mission. Now, granted, transporting live animals from planets of Apex-Predator qualities higher than six did usually require some finesse, finesse that our little rag-tag band of collected misfits didn’t tend to have. That’s where the human was supposed to have filled in the gap, since humans were rumored to be good at this “animal bond” thing.
He’d turned out, of course, to be more than just ‘good’ at bonding with the blasted things. That stupid human had bonded with every single one of the creatures in their cages, feeding them scraps of food and cooing and making these really weird noises to them every time he was near them. The creatures would nearly tear themselves out of their cages, trying to get to him just to get something the human called “scritches.” It was disgusting. I huddled under my sleeping nook and tried to make myself even smaller than I was, trying to ignore the sounds coming through my comm.
“Guys?” No one answered him. We were all afraid to. Well, those of us still alive anyway. We’d all seen what happened to Drak when the Alarcat got out of its cage. No one liked Drak when it came down to it, but we also hadn’t wanted to see him eaten alive by a six-legged beast from Legus Prime! And now that damn thing was loose on the ship, and all of us were huddled in locked rooms throughout the ship, waiting to die.
All of us, that is, but one stupid human. I still don’t remember what his name was. Alor? Alan? Alien? He’d told me but I wasn’t listening, I’d just been trying my best to not get whatever it was that he had all over me. I didn’t want him to touch me, get near me, nothing. I was perfectly fine with a human aboard the ship, as long as the human wasn’t anywhere near ME. I hated that human.
And it was the human who was walking around, making some sort of strange clicking noise with his throat, and calling out “Kitty, kitty!” while looking for the Alarcat. He was going to die. I just knew it. Any time now, that Alarcat was going to find him, and then…
There was a roar that shook the entire ship, and I knew… the hunt was nearly over. The Alarcat had found its prey. I unconsciously leaned forward, straining to hear through my comm as the scene unfolded through my earpiece. I heard the human go, “Ah, there you are!” I could almost feel the impact as the Alarcat screamed its warcry and pounced…
Then silence. I nodded grimly. The human was dead. He had to be. The Alarcat must be feasting on the human’s corpse right now. Maybe we could use this time to reach the escape pods… I blinked. A very odd noise had just started coming out of my coms. I tapped on my ear piece and strained, trying to hear it better.
It increased in intensity, a low rumble that increased and decreased in rhythm. Almost like breathing? And then I heard the human. “Aw, the big kitty likes that, doesn’t he? Oh, doesn’t he! Yeah, he does, I can hear you purring! Yes, I can!”
I stared at my door in dumbfounded amazement as the human said over the coms, “Hey, guys? I found the cat! What do you want me to do with it?”
No one responded for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard the captain speak. I’d never, in my six hundred years upon this ship, ever heard her sound flabbergasted. Today? Today, she was flabbergasted. “Um… Can you… uh… Can you get kitty to go back into its cage?”
“Yeah, I can do that. Come on kitty. Let’s get you back in your cage. Come on, up you go.” There were more rumbling sounds. “Oh, come on, you big lush. Ok, one more tummy rub, then we’ll go, ok?
I swear to F’thal the damn creature chirped at the human. As one, the rest of the crew waited until the human came across the coms again with “Ok, its back in its cage. Y’all can come out of hiding now, you big babies.”
So yeah. I understand why we need a human on the ship now. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I understand. They can bond with anything. Because they’re frickin’ CRAZY. | 2019-11-21T07:23:21 | 2019-11-21T06:30:47 | 2,256 | 1,148 |
[WP] You were born with an ability where if you’re about to die from anything unnatural, time stops and allows you to move to a position where you wouldn’t die. You’ve travelled over five miles by now, but time is still stopped. | Ok, so time stopped. It wasn't the first time.
I'd become a bit careless with my ability, became a sort of vigilante superhero, dodging bullets and saving people. Every time, once I was out of harm's way, time resumed, sometimes cutting it pretty close.
This time was different. I hadn't been able to find the source of my potential demise, so I looked around the area. Nothing. No threat to my life.
I tried looking up, but couldn't find anything. So, I started running.
I ran for about five miles in a tireless jog - somehow, my power didn't involve using any energy.
Eventually I knew that running was too slow. Luckily, my power did allow me to unfreeze inanimate objects - my clothes, for example.
I found someone out of their car, keys in hand, door still open. I grabbed the keys and got in, closing the door.
I would drive 500 miles.
And then I'd drive 500 more.
Time remained unchanging.
I knew, at this point, I'd be stuck for a while. I found an observatory and, after much effort, learned how to use it alone. It wasn't long before I found my not-so-impending doom.
A large asteroid must've appeared very suddenly on a collision course with Earth, because 20 miles wide seemed like it should've been spotted earlier.
And now I knew what I had to do.
I'd have to fight an asteroid alone. With enough research and access to the whole world, I would move this asteroid away from Earth. | The pyramid had long since disappeared from sight. Even squinting in the direction of my footprints, I couldn’t see a single remarkable dot among the golden sands of the desert. Yet the world was still silent, my heart was still beating rapidly, and I still felt the chill of the underground tomb after I had spied the dusty sarcophagus and time suddenly froze.
I suppose it could be a good thing that when time froze, so did the physical state of my body. When I saw the Egyptian coffin earlier, I had been just slightly tired from sneaking past the guards, climbing down some stairs, and taking a leisurely walk down a long, narrow corridor. Even after leaving the pyramid and walking several miles hauling a bag of gold and priceless rubies, I was barely winded and unaffected by the desert sun. The only problem was, I had reached and gone past the excavation point a mile ago, and still, the world was still. Which meant whatever threatened my life this time was more than just collapsible floors and rigged arrows.
I was no stranger to threats on my life. When you’re a professional grave robber, you come to expect danger. But no danger lasted once I cleared the pyramid. All sorts of grave explanations for my predicament whirled through my head. Had this corner of Egypt been nuked? Was there an earthquake? Was I having a heart attack? The last one stuck in my mind. I didn’t fully know the extent of my ability. I was just born with it and kept it a secret. If time froze when I was in danger, what would happen if I had a heart attack? If I were to die a natural death, I could stop time forever. Disasters, I could escape. Even if the sun burned out, I could bunker up underground or build myself a spaceship. Somehow. But if my arteries just clogged, what would I do? Go to the hospital and hope they could save me? Learn medicine from scratch and operate on myself?
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I would hope my ability only extended to unnatural deaths, and perhaps I’d be forced to investigate my body if I couldn’t find a solution elsewhere. Until then, I would just get out of this place. Maybe Egypt’s just being nuked. Wouldn’t that be a nice alternative.
I realized I’d stood in one place thinking for quite a while. I sighed. There was more walking to do. Turning around for one last look, this time I made out the pyramid in the far distance. The dot on the horizon was barely visible, and when I squinted, it almost looked like the dot was getting closer. I shook my head again. No, the dot was definitely getting bigger. And when I looked closely, I could just barely make out two red dots on the larger black dot which had a shimmering around it not due to the desert heat.
I dropped my treasure and ran. | 2019-12-20T13:18:27 | 2019-12-20T11:41:05 | 111 | 31 |
[WP] Right when you become 18, you have to get a familiar. Even when you reached that age, you didn't get one, so you've been expecting none. So it's a bit of a surprise when Cthulhu suddenly appears and claims that you're their familiar.
[ Removed by reddit in response to a copyright notice. ] | I've been having nightmares for weeks now - always starting with a horrible, earth-shaking storm, winds sweeping up the houses of my wretched brethren, ripping the limbs of our cattle, tearing the skin off of the other village dwellers.
They never liked me, nobody did, neither the ones I came to call parents - as I have no memory of the real ones - treating me like I was a freak, making me sleep with the pigs in the barn, feeding me peelings and spoiled leftovers. All because I had these scar-like birthmarks in the shape of stars in the middle of my palms. The village elder said it was a bad omen, a sign that the unclean took shelter within me, and he was not entirely wrong. The ones I lived with took me in before I could remember anything, and raised me like a slave - even their familiars made fun of me and would make my life as bad as it could be, stealing what little I had of my own and selling it to peddlers, so they could be praised by their masters for the little coin they brought in.
I hated them. All of them. More and more each day. I cursed them in my thoughts, I wished oblivion would take them all.
My 18th birthday started with a peculiarly warm sunrise that hurt my eyes with its shine. It had woken me up, and I was not pleased. My mind suddenly went muddy and I found myself carving some unintelligible words into the pig that now lay dead near me, in a huge pool of blood. The blood, it was everywhere - the walls of the barn, my clothes, my hands and face.
"A sacrifice had to be made" I heard a cold whisper inside my head, one that froze the marrow in my bones and made my eyes burn. But in a way it was soothing, calm, yet of a force no man could whitstand. No man other than me. I went outside and looked towards the horizon, the sun still shining its horrendous heat and light toward me.
I raised my hand toward it. My scars looked as if they were alight, like the sun itself was passing through them, battling an unfathomable void and darkness. A terrible wind started blowing from all sides, ripping the roof tiles, breaking the branches of the nearby trees.
"Begone" I heard myself say.
I heard ear-bleeding screech, and an earthquake had started, but I was unmoved. A blood-red mist appeared to gather from the houses, the life energy of all those who treated me like filth. I had been kind to them, gave them an instant and painless death.
The mist gathered into an opaque cloud, covering the sun on the horizon, and spreading through the sky like a wildfire in a forest full of dried husks.
Lightning strike.
Then He appeared. Gigantic, majestic, bringing doom to the world. Cthulhu Himself, the one I was destined to. He is my Master. I will be his conduit to chaos.
The end is nigh.
-------
Hey guys! This was my first shot at a writing prompt. Hope you'll like it! | It had been nearly a month since my 27th birthday. I'd long given up on getting a Familiar and had instead started writing. I'd become sort of a recluse since everyone looked at me weird. An adult without a familiar was completely unheard of. I'd searched through every ancient text I could find trying to find some mention of ANYONE not getting a Familiar in their 18th year. Or even anyone getting theirs late. But I had come up empty. I considered trying to figure a way to fake it. Familiars simply appeared as balls of light floating around their partners unless they decided to reveal their form. I had an uncle who claimed to have Joan of Arc as his Familiar but the spirit never spoke aloud or revealed it's form to anyone so we had to take him on his word.
I was sitting at my desk, trying to squeeze out an ending when a headache started. At first I thought it was just the looming deadline getting to me but the headache intensified until I was sure I would soon have grey matter leaking out of my ears. 'Wait. Sorry! Let me just.... There that any better?'
My body collapsed sprawling across the desk as I all but sobbed with relief. Suddenly realizing there was someone in my apartment I leapt to my feet and looked anxiously around. Finding no one I relaxed slightly. Maybe I was hallucinating? I hadn't left my apartment in at least a month and my editor hadn't been by in almost as long. 'You're not hallucinating. I'm just still working on my form. I don't like the one people always give me. Just because I sleep beneath the waves doesn't mean I have a freaking squid on my head.'
A kid materializes in front of me. He looks about 12. He has pale skin and wavy dirty blonde hair hanging down to his shoulders. He's wearing a sea-foam blue school uniform like you'd see in a manga; the seal on his chest presenting a strange symbol. "I never got to be a child. Think I'll try it out for a while." He says, his voice way too deep to be coming from such a small child.
I don't scream. I really want to but I somehow manage to not. "Who... What... Who are you?" I feel a new headache starting behind my eyes.
"I am Cthulhu: The Great Old One! Your familiar. Sorry I'm a bit late. last time I was someone's familiar I kind of destroyed his mind." He got a pensive look on his face but quickly switched to a smile. But I got it right this time.... Aside from at the beginning. Sorry again."
"Don't... worry about it. Is this real? Like... are you, real?" I was holding my breath. I don't know why though. If my subconscious made up a familiar for me, it would likely lie about being real to keep up the illusion.
"Yes. I am real. But you're right, a hallucination would say it was real. Why don't we go down to the store and you'll see all the attention you don't get. that should prove it right?"
It made sense. I looked at myself. I was only wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that I thought I'd been wearing at least 2 days. I hopped in the shower and got dressed before walking to the door. I was suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety. I hadn't gone out in... what three years now? There were a lot of people out there. I remembered the concerned judgmental looks. The parents telling their children not to stare. The pity in their voices when they asked about my Familiar, or lack thereof.
A warm hand closed around mine. "It's okay. I'm with you now. I promise we'll do this together. Just open the door."
It was still strange hearing that deep voice come from such a small body. But it was also comforting. I trusted him. Knew he was telling me the truth. Even if he was a hallucination, It wasn't good for me to be stuck in my apartment for the rest of my life. My editor might come in one day and find me dead on the floor or something. Taking a steadying breath I reached for the door and turned the knob. Familiar of no. I was returning to reality. | 2020-02-06T13:25:49 | 2020-02-06T13:24:23 | 18 | 12 |
[WP]: "Greetings, and welcome to the Afterlife! According to our records, you lacked a primary belief system to govern your afterlife experience. As such, aside from a return to your past life, you may choose an existing belief system, or start a new life in a manner of your choosing!" | Nick had no idea what was going on. He was dead, there was no questioning that. However, he had no idea how that happened. Or even what his life was like.
There was no changing the situation now, however. The only information he had to go off was that he apparently didn't follow any belief system. Meant he had to make a choice. Of course, with the lack of memories, Nick couldn't tell what the best choice here really was.
"Sir, I have more people to sentence, I'll need you to come to a decision."
Then there was this lady. She seemed like a normal person, the word receptionist came to mind. But she seemed rather annoyed.
"Umm... I don't know how to say this, but I honestly have no idea what any of this means," Nick finally said.
"Of course, the amnesia. It's rather common with those who suffered head be injuries in their deaths."
"Head injury!? Just what happened to me anyway!?"
"It was just a car crash, pretty standard stuff, you were going a bit fast buddy."
Now this was too much information. Nick's head felt like it was splitting open and images flashed in his mind. He was in a car. Next to him was someone else. He couldn't remember who they were, but they were important to him. That much he was sure of.
Nick sighed deeply as he prepared for the answer to come. "Before I choose... Has the person who was with me come through here?"
"Just let me check the files quick..." A tablet appeared in the hands of the receptionist and she started swiping through. "Nope. She made a recovery and is now attending your funeral."
"Then, if it's all the same with you, I'd like to wait for her."
"You are aware that could take over 60 years, right?"
A smile formed over Nick's face.
"I hope it does." | “Lacked a belief system?” Andy said. “I believe in science.”
Andy was proud of this statement. It’s one he said often on Earth in various forums and chat rooms, as well as holiday dinners with family members who would have much rather been talking about anything else. Andy was an atheist, and like many atheists, he wore the title as a sort of badge of superior intelligence.
“Oh, you believe in god? Well, then you must be stupid,” he had once said to an internet stranger. And now, freshly deceased, Andy has found himself in the very place he claimed did not exist.
“Science isn’t a belief system, Andy,” laughed a woman that looked like any other receptionist, except this one worked in the afterlife. “I’m talking about something like a religion.”
Andy rolled his eyes. This was a reflex which was brought on by certain trigger words. “Religion” was one of them.
“All religions are false,” Andy said smugly.
The receptionist stared at him a moment, not quite sure if Andy realized where he was at. “Remember when I said ‘Welcome to the Afterlife?’”
“Yeah?”
“You’re dead.”
“I know.”
“So, religions were kind of right, and if you believed in one, well, it would be completely correct, because your experience would be shaped accordingly.”
Andy stood in silence for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth. Finally he responded, “I believe in science.”
“For Christ’s sake, Andy!”
Another trigger word sent Andy’s eyes rolling.
“Look, you’re in the afterlife. There’s no debating that. What I need you to decide is how you would like to proceed,” the receptionist said.
“What do you mean?”
“You have a few options. You can return to your past life, meaning you can do a sort of replay. You can start a new life. Or you can choose an existing belief system and live in their version of the afterlife, and no, science is not an option.”
It became apparent by Andy’s pouty face that he had intended to say ‘science.’
He took a moment to consider the various religions which he had so arrogantly shamed throughout his life. Nothing about them sounded particularly appealing to him, and their lack of science had him seething. He could feel the desire to debate building inside of him. The hunger to insult. He could say Christianity, his opponent of choice, and then spend an eternity belittling them, but what good would it do? They’d just keep pulling the ol’ “we’re currently in Heaven” card.
“So, whats your choice, Andy?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I’ve really only ever wanted one thing in life, and that was to mock the intellectually inferior for believing in the invisible wizard in the sky. Do you have a place for people like me?”
The receptionist leaned back in her seat, and looked at the various options on her computer screen. “I think I’ve got just the one.”
“Give me it then.”
“Will do. Enjoy your afterlife!” The receptionist smiled and waved as she pressed a button that sent Andy straight to Hell.
___________________________________________________
**Visit r/TheGoshfather for more stories!** | 2020-04-21T03:42:24 | 2020-04-21T00:48:15 | 436 | 262 |
[WP] As you die, you wake up in a fiery place. You quickly realize you're in hell. You ask the next demon why you are there, as you lived a very good life. "You're not being punished," he says. "You are the punishment." | “Hi! How’s it going? Did you see the rabbits over there? They are so CUTE! I mean just adorable! I had rabbits as a kid. Moppit and Jonesy, cute buggers, so soft they used to sit in my lap my mom told me I mistooktheirpoopforaraisinonceapparentlyididntstopcrying...”
I let my mouth continue moving with meaningless noise coming out of them. The poor guy was so excited to have someone talk to him at first, but there are tears in his eyes now as he realizes I will NOT shut up. Not until I run out of breath. Which given that we are dead and I don’t have lungs, it’s gonna be a while.
He can’t interrupt me. As long as I am talking, he can’t interrupt me. As long as my attention is focussed on him, he can’t walk away. It feels a lot like justice.
People think of hell as all fire and brimstone, but it’s actually about justice and self-improvement. We all go to hell for a while, and are subject to torment until we repent our evil behaviours in life. Some of us repent quicker than others, and can help others with their lessons. We are the tormentors.
And damn, does it feel good not to be interrupted. | “Welcome to hell,” the demon said.
“Why?” she asked. Hands-on her hips she looked around in an annoyed manner.
The demon hesitated.
“What do you mean why?” he asked.
“Let me speak to your manager,” she said.
Ignoring her request “everyone comes to hell for punishment, in this excep- are you snapping your fingers at me?”
He looked down at her puzzlingly.
“Manager NOW!”
“Wow, you really are the punishment.”
“Excuse me!?”
“As I was saying this place… hell is for punishment, murderers, killers… all kinds of bad people….. Is that a phone?”
“That’s right if you don’t get your manager I’m putting this online!” pointing the camera at the demon.
“I don’t have time for this, as I was saying”
A screeching sound erupted from the woman. The demon guessed she was about 5 feet tall and looked something of an annoying mouse that barely reached the top of his foot.
Before he could speak again, she whipped her phone around and her fingers angrily danced on the screen.
“Are you serious?” the demon asked.
“That’s right! I’m leaving a 1-star review on google for harassing a female.” She screamed.
“You know you are here because you sucked at life?”
“Harassment! I’ve been a great mother, a ROLE model for moms alike”
“Mmm I see, then why is your little hell spawn coming down here in 3..2..1”
A small boy appeared by her crying, followed by ear-piercing screaming. She quickly took out chocolate and a Nintendo switch where it was quickly snatched out of her hands.
“Mine!” the little boy screamed
“O yea great mother,” the demon said
She began screeching again and the demon rolled his eyes. He picked her up with two of her fingers raising her to his eye level frowning. He let her kick and scream until she was breathing heavily and drenched in sweat.
“As I was saying much earlier, you’re not here for punishment”
“About time I get some respect around here!” she peeped.
Ignoring her again “You are the punishment,” he said and looked at the boy. “Him too it seems, congratulations…
“What do you mean?” she asked.
The demon sighed setting her down. “It means it’s probably the only place you’ll ever be needed. Good luck”
She looked at him confused as he walked away. Suddenly, a man appeared in front of her looking confused.
“Excuse me Ma’am, but do yo-“
“Did you just assume my gender!?” she yelled.
“Aw fuck I’m in hell aren’t I,” he said. | 2020-07-10T09:00:11 | 2020-07-10T08:54:13 | 123 | 54 |
[WP] As you die, you wake up in a fiery place. You quickly realize you're in hell. You ask the next demon why you are there, as you lived a very good life. "You're not being punished," he says. "You are the punishment." | Simple. I'm given a good life in hell. I have everything I could ever want: my loving husband, my beautiful children, all my favorite hobbies, and not a care in the world. Hell takes care of everything for me, there's no economy or job to worry about. Just me and my favorite people in the world spending eternity loving and encouraging each other.
My dumb fuck ex who wanted to manipulate me into staying with him, while emotionally abusing me, gaslighting me, cheating on me, and telling me I was worthless and he was the only person who would ever love me, is forced to watch from a distance as I live the happiest life he never wanted me to have, while demons fuck him in the ass trying to convince him to enjoy it like he did to me. | It was as if YHWH and Lucifer planned it all along.
There I was, guided to a white room by a walleyed Frenchman with glasses. It was a room plain and white, with a sofa set, table and bottomless refreshments. This is the life!
And here was where I set to work, three people, poor spirits they were, went into the same room with me. One a whore who died after her 10th miscarriage, another one executed for his war crimes, and a third an old schoolmaster doubling as a paedophile.
And then we began talking. We talked and talked as we drunk. The ever flowing ambrosia---surprisingly, Hell had an endless supply of those---tasted sweet, especially when chilled with the ice coming from the Ninth Circle. Ahhh...
But mind you, I was a good Christian back in my human life, respected the laws, read the Bible, treated others as my equals, et cetera et cetera. Before I died, I heard an angel tell me that I was chosen for a certain experiment the Hereafter was doing. That's how I ended up in the First Circle.
As the experiment went on, I saw the faces of my companions turn from boredom to madness. We did not care how much we drank nor how much time has passed, all we did was talk. Talk until the three spirits dropped to the floor. Talk until the walleyed French dude took me out of the room and into heaven, where I saw an angel approach me.
"You know that guy? Sartre?" he asked
"Took him up in Philosophy class," I replied with a smile.
"Yea, so how'd ya find Hell?"
"A bit torturous, but manageable. If there's one thing I learned from this experiment, it's that Hell is... other people," I replied.
Author: u/CXTRONICA
Title: Hell is Other People
inspired by Jean-Paul Sartre's No Exit. | 2020-07-10T10:31:17 | 2020-07-10T09:25:50 | 19 | 12 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | The Master of Shadows, Lord of Darkness and King of Terror gazed out across the ruined landscape. Smoke billowed out from the cracked ground, blotting out the sun.
The Last Survivor checked his watch.
He'd been standing back far enough to withstand the Dark Lord's devastating assault, and as a result he was the only one who had. No armor could hold against it, no bulwark of health could survive it. Wherever the Warriors of Light had gone, they would be no help to him now.
"Go on then," the Lord said. "Run away."
The Last Survivor checked his logbook. Then he put it down. Then he checked it again. "Sorry?"
"Flee. I know you wish to. You have no hope of defeating me, and you know as well as I do that it is so. You are fleet enough. Flee, and be the herald of my ascension."
The Last Survivor was scribbling something in the book.
"What is this," the Lord intoned, "some ruse? Some pathetic little ploy? Your book will not arm you, little man. It will not armor you. You were not even entrusted with a kitchen knife, or a simple stick."
The Last Survivor checked his watch again, and wrote faster.
"What do you labor over so, to throw away your life? Your stock of items? Are you a fool? Excalibur now hangs in a merchant's shop, I know, sold by your own hand for a thousand pieces of silver. The only weapon that could hope to pierce my armor is forever out of your reach, and if you remain here, I will pluck the paltry fee you took for it from your cooling corpse, and leave you to rot with your collection of baubles."
The Last Survivor paused on a tough bit of multiplication, or redistribution, or something similarly meaningless. It was... insulting. Infuriating. Yes, the Dark Lord decided, when this fool made a move, he would gut them for their insolence.
"Are you addled? Have you forgotten how to run? I have seen you, and I know you have done it before. It is *all* you have done, abandoning battle after battle. Out of all the heroes of the land, you are known only for the speed at which you flee. That name will be all that is left of-"
The Last Survivor closed his logbook, and immediately threw his coin pouch at the Dark Lord, who stared as it flew through the air, puzzled. One or a thousand, he had nothing to fear from *this*.
Then the pouch exploded open, and one thousand impossible Excaliburs came flying out, point first. The blast of holy light was blinding, deafening, world-shaking...
Somewhere in the darkness after, he heard the Last Survivor speak.
"Time."
The Dark Lord tried in vain to reach up into the darkness, as life slowly began to ebb. He spent one last, dwindling breath on a single rasp. "How..?"
The sound of the Last Survivor's footsteps drew near.
"Speedrunner doesn't mean what you thought it did." | "DO you really feel you are in-charge here?" the Last member said, but with a very deep and menacing voice. The Dark Lord had lost all this words. The dead bodies of the last group of Resistance lay piled across the room, and this Member was the last of survivors. "Have you never wondered, that in the last five years, and after countless attacks on the Resistance, each time you completely wiped out the entire party, I was the only one who would return with new members of the Resistance. Or were you so blind and soaked in your power, that you never sensed that there was something greater and more powerful than you, that lurked right under you nose. Oh! I forgot, you can't do that as of now. You haven't unlocked that power yet.
The small figure of the Last member that stood near the Dark Lord suddenly started changing shape and soon he was on the eye to eye level of he Dark Lord. And before the Dark Lord could whip out his wand to cast a spell, the Last member caught his hand with one of his hand, and the other hand he casually put over the shoulder of the Dark Lord.
"You call yourself a Dark Lord! Boy, you have just scratched the surface of what real magic can do. And I spit on the legacy you have created. In my words, you have been just lucky to have survived all this time."
The Dark Lord felt powerless for the first time. He couldn't move his hand, and the other hand of the Last Member had this very soft, yet dominating grip over his neck that he couldn't risk shaking away.
"The Hero was a distraction," the Last Member continued. "I am sure you might have sensed that. He was nothing more than a pawn who was forced to believe he could be the king. All the powers that he enjoyed, he thought he was gifted. But it was just my mere mercy that I allowed him to use a little bit of my power. Alas what better way to make a man believe that he was the chosen one than give him something which others lack. You creatures are so naïve and foolish. " There was a slight smile on the face of the Last Member.
"There's no one to stop me NOW," the Last Member said in a very menacing voice and as his grip tightened over the neck of the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord gave his final fight. The Dark Lord sensed a moment of weakness as the Last Member started reciting his grand plan, and with a flick he freed his wand hand from the grip of the Member and casted a spell that separated the two. He was the Dark Lord, the conqueror of this word, and he wouldn't let a psycho-maniac make him feel any less powerful.
"I though I killed all your kind?" Dark Lord screamed from the distance.
"You think you really can! We are your ancestors; we are the pure wizards. We are the ones you use to channel your power. We gave birth to your kind. And you think you can kill the source?" the Member screamed back. The two large figures jumped at each others, with Dark Lord holding his wand. The Member didn't need any medium to channel his power.
For the followers of the Dark Lord that were standing outside, the only thing that was visible were bright light of spells and curses that was emanating from inside the room. The battle didn't last for more than a minute. The bright light had suddenly vanished and their was an eerie silence. Then from the dense smog they could see the large figure of the Dark Lord walk out. As they moved closer to the approaching figure, the reality of the fight dawned over them. It was not the Dark Lord, it was the Member who emerged through the smoke. His figure was larger than the Dark Lord and his face had this twisted expression of gloat and disgust.
A few followers quickly sat on their knees without a word or doubt.
"I give you the same choice your Dark Lord gave me. Join me or suffer his fate," the new Dark Lord said in a deep voice. The rest of the crowd started bending their knees.
At the back of the huge crowd, two followers quickly ran to the other side of the open area, careful the new Dark Lord didn't see them.
"He cant be dead!" said one follower.
"We have to find his body. He made sure no one would be able to kill him. We have to find him," said the other.
"He cant be dead." | 2020-07-11T02:51:40 | 2020-07-11T02:49:15 | 2,838 | 39 |
[WP] the Dark Lord had killed almost everyone, even the Hero. The final party member stood in the chamber alone. “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?”. The final party member laughed maniacally with a devilish grin! “There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!” | “I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here? The Dark Lord screamed.
Dorian couldn't resist laughing. "Indeed. You have. And that was your biggest mistake. You killed so many people here. So many adventurers and heros."
"I did. And you will only be one of many in a few seconds. I won't even remember you. But if you still want to try me than come on and show me your best. I don't care. Seeing your friends die clearly made you crazy. So come on and attack. But know that I won't hesitate."
"Me friends? They weren't my friends. They tricked and captured me. They restrained my magic. But There's No One Here To Stop Me Now!!"
With that sentence the fallen party rose. Skeletons, zombies and ghosts began to entere the chamber from every direction.
"You really killed a lot of people. Let's see if you can do it again?" | "Where do you think the Hero comes from?" The Final Member asked.
"You said it yourself, you weren't able to detect the Hero's presence before. You only realized that she existed a year ago. Didn't you question how a one-year-old Hero turned out to be an eighteen-year-old woman?".
The Dark Lord's face twisted, he was surprised but he didn't show a hint of emotion.
"While you were busy sullying my name and using a mere fragment of my power, I was... sleeping. Imagine my surprise when I woke up and found that the humans who once adored me, once worshipped me, feared me to be the great devil, the destroyer of worlds. A world that I created, a race that I spawned, scorned me... because of YOU."
At this, the Dark Lord laughed. He said "So you're delusional? Is that it? I killed all your party members, all with unique powers and skills, are you powerless, skilless? Is your only ability bullshitting and hoping, praying that you survive? You really are a pitiable party member. I have killed everyone, you cannot capture me alone. Why are you still here?"
"You see, I thought I would fight you alongside the Hero and when she beat you, I'd introduce myself. People would see who I truly am, a kind young man. Everything I plan usually goes smoothly. I didn't expect someone to steal a fragment of my power and use it against me. So to end this little exchange, I will answer my own question. The Hero was originally a child killed in an accident in another Universe. I summoned her here so that she could live a longer more fulfilling life. If I'd known you'd stolen a fragment of my power, I would have never had her fight you. I guess what I am saying is that the power you stole from me was so insignificant that I didn't even know it was missing."
The final party member let out an incredible aura filled with anger and hate. For the first time, the dark lord felt sheer terror. He reveled in the pain that he had inflicted upon the masses, now it was his turn to suffer. The Final Member laughed maniacally and said with a devilish grin "THERE'S NO ONE HERE TO STOP ME NOW!" | 2020-07-11T02:26:51 | 2020-07-11T00:51:28 | 2,541 | 605 |
[WP] English really is a universal language, and aliens are as surprised about this as humans | > ℏ=1.05•10⁻³⁴ kg•m²•s⁻¹
> c=2.998•10⁸ m•s⁻¹
“This is pointless,” Arthur spat. “There’s no reason to believe that the Venusians would understand this.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Mark sighed. “If we start with the fundamentals, we can work to common ground.”
> μ₀=1.26•10⁻⁶ kg•m•s⁻²•A⁻²
> ε₀=8.85•10⁻¹² s⁴•A²•kg⁻¹•m⁻³
“Why do you assume their base units are the same?” Arthur was about ready to throw the computer across the room. “Our definition of the meter, the kilogram, all of it — arbitrary! We started with a meter that fit well with measuring between cities, and to be more scientific we came up with a definition of that same length that fits with fundamentals. Maybe they use natural units.”
“Maybe something unitless then?” Mark continued typing into the IRC.
> π=3.14159
> e=2.71828
> α=7.29927•10⁻³
> N=6.02214•10²³
> β=1836
“Maybe? I mean, even base 10 is arbitrary based on our having ten phalanges. Maybe your theoretical alien civilization has only four fingers in each hand. Maybe they have seven.”
Mark sighed in frustration. “Forget this.” Mostly as a joke, he typed:
> Do you read English?
“Should we call it a day?” Arthur asked.
> How do you speak English?
Mark paused. “No, I think we’ll be here for a while.” | The silence of space is a powerful drug. I spend a lot of time in the interstellar ship's forward observation deck, where I meditate on the contrast between my beating heart and the empty void.
There are three hundred and thirty-four humans on board. Most have opted for a permanent cyrogenic state, programming the ship's AI to wake them when we approach the next habitable planet. The ship runs autonomously, and our main duty is to provide a redundancy for its systems. A final human failsafe.
The ship does not need us to carry out its mission, but humanity is a race of poets and writers and thinkers, and our primary objective is to find and seed worlds. Life should create life.
We had over a thousand crew members when we first began our eternal voyage, but as the passage of time marches inexorably onwards, more and more individuals decide to stay on the worlds we seeded. Their cybernetic implants guarantee their survival for another several thousand years, allowing them to shepherd and guide the expansion of their world's first fledgling human tribes.
All we need to function is the energy from a star. It is only out here, in the vast emptiness of space, that we are truly mortal.
\---------------------------
The mountain range looms on the horizon, carrying the promise of cold winds and heavy snow.
Skate moves quickly, following her father as he treks up the winding mountain path. Soon they would leave the trees behind.
Skate is tired. Her feet ache with each new step and her breath is short on the thin air, but she lets none of her discomfort show. Tonight she becomes an adult.
Her father halts in the middle of a sheer mountain meadow. Billions of stars twinkled in the sky above them, stretching through space-time.
“All those worlds…,” her father whispers, his voice carrying low and soft on the cold wind.
Skate did not probe, for soon she would know what her father meant.
“You go alone from here girl. Follow the path. Use the light of the stars to guide you to the entrance to a small cave,” her father said. He had a strange, reverent tone that she had not heard before. “Inside you will find God.”
\----------------------------
The spaceship hurtles through oblivion, moving further and further away from everything Saka had ever known.
The ship began its final approach to Proxima B, where Saka would help create a second colony and so play her small part in humanity's first expansion into the stars. The crew was arrogant and filled with pride. They had a right to be, for their civilization had grown from a few primitive tribes to a thriving global population in just a few hundred years.
Saka traced her ancestry to an ancient matriarch named Skate, who had founded a dynasty that existed to this day.
As they entered Proxima B's solar system, the ship's sensors picked up signatures that could only come from intelligent life, and for the first time Saka realized that humanity was not alone in the universe. Then the ship received a communications beam.
“Please return from whence you came.”
Silence. A silence so intense it was as if the walls of the spaceship had dissolved into the inky void.
Impossible. The aliens communicated in English. | 2020-09-17T08:27:58 | 2020-09-17T07:08:18 | 2,499 | 67 |
[WP] Life on Earth evolved within an “FTL Dead Zone” a region of space where all known forms of FTL travel were deemed physically impossible. As such, it was quite a shock when an unknown species suddenly appeared from the Dead Zone one day calling themselves “Humanity” Having done the impossible... | Writing this on my phone at work, apologies for any mistakes.
A lovely person (u/blu_ski) has narrated this story: https://youtu.be/ozrQ-fu6nV0
And another lovely person! (u/Spartawolf): https://youtu.be/WjN13TVf238
___________________________________________________
The Atrium was abuzz with chatter, many languages and strange sounds all fighting for dominance, to be heard. The cacophony echoed around the large chamber, resident to the many hundreds of species positioned in boxes adorning the walls. In the centre was a group of 5 astronauts, each looking particularly overwhelmed.
At the sound of a loud bang, the chatter stopped. The representative of the Unified Galactic Systems placed their gavel aside, and spoke:
"Beings from the Dead Zone. We apologise for bringing you here so soon after first contact, but there is much to discuss. Are you aware of the feat you have accomplished?"
Four of the astronauts looked to the fifth, their Commander, who stepped forward.
"Respectfully..."
"You may address me as Speaker."
"...Speaker. There are many feats we have achieved today. First contact with not just one alien species, but an entire galactic community! We are also the first humans to leave our solar system, while simultaneously achieving the fastest speeds any human being has ever traveled before. To which are you referring?"
"We are, of course, referring to your craft. The method of travel in which you arrived here. It is... most peculiar."
"With all due respect, Speaker, surely your methods of faster than light travel are far superior to our own? Ours is but the first working iteration of our technology, after all."
"One would think so, but you see, you have emerged from a section of dead space. An area of the universe from which the usual laws of physics behave in constrained ways. Faster than light travel is simply not possible. Therefore we ask... how are you here?"
The astronauts appeared stunned, and turned to speak to each other. After a short period of time, the commander again stepped forward.
"My apologies, Speaker, but this explains a great many things. Namely, that we were never visited despite our many greetings broadcast into the cosmos. That we struggled to produce a system with the necessary power to propell us vast distances, despite the mathematics saying it was possible."
"Indeed, the dead zone acts as a speed barrier. The power required to pass this barrier would be astronomical, even for ourselves. So how did you do it?"
"We developed a drive that effectively... shifts us. Space is folded around the craft, then we are simply accelerated through the field. As space is folded around the craft, there is nothing to prohibit our acceleration, and no forces are acted upon the craft, allowing us to withstand the speeds."
This caused a stir among the species present, many voices called out, the automatic translators failing to keep up. The Speaker turned to their scientific advisors, of which each was entirely stunned by the sheer amount of science and mathematics required for such an achievement. The Speaker once again lifted the gravel and called for silence.
"How do you propel yourselves without the gravitational forces of space? How do you leave your planet without space to travel through?"
"Our vessels are powered by chemical rocket boosters, which launch us from our planet. The same principles apply in phase space, which can only be used in orbit to avoid warping our planet's own gravitational sphere. Each maneuver is calculated to make effective use of our fuel. Is this not true of the rest of the galaxy?"
With this the multitude of species could not remain silent, and the sounds of the many voices became entirely uncontrollable.
This marked the emergence of Humanity, a species of remarkable engineers, scientists and mathematicians the known galaxy had never seen before. For the galaxy in the living space had never had to produce such technologies, each achieving space flight as simply as they produced the wheel, never requiring the advanced mathematical equations Humanity had needed simply to reach their own moon.
Humanity had crawled from the depths of a dark, restricted space.
They had ventured down the road not travelled.
And they arrived in the light. |
We were wanderers by trade, a nomadic existence that crossed the diaphanous bridges between worlds.
It was not as if we lived on *no* planets, but that was mostly the young and the old. The rest, with rare exceptions, crossed the paths of starlight weaved by To’olosh and Kareem, the space forger and queen of the molten crust.
In the legends of our people, it was Kareem that had thrust pieces of every planet into the sky, and To’olosh who had used them to build the gates. We were not the oldest in the galaxy, but one of the first to use the gates. That afforded us a certain level of respect from the other races, who oft came to consult with us if there was a dispute or technical issue with them.
We were happy to lend our hands in the manner of our gods, believing it was our duty to share the pathways freely to all who would use them in good faith. For the most part, despite our spiritual differences, the galaxy seemed to agree. Many of the weavings of our people had told of a time of tension, where the merest word could send it spiraling into endless conflict.
If those times truly existed, and were not hyperbolized by our ancestors, then we were thankfully long past them now.
Species lived within their means, often staying within their own systems. Some crossed over and joined with others, to form thriving, bustling cities. Disputes were uncommon, most resolved quickly before the galactic assembly. War was something that only existed in history books. After all, why fight when transportation is so efficient and free, for all intents and purposes? If a planet required resources, it’s neighbours or even far off forge-worlds would often be happy to supply them.
All of this had applied for dozens of standard cycles, all except for one place.
The Tear.
The Tear was a place of silence, where the bridges broke or simply did not exist. The tapestry our people spun of it was a dire one - a place where a demon from the darkness in the unknown reaches had slithered. When To’olosh and Kareem found it, devouring the starways, they had struck it down in fury. As it had fallen back into the dark, it had clawed at the bridges, taking many of them with it. It was said that To’olosh had argued with Kareem after, to preserve the Tear as a reminder of what creatures lurk in the abyss outside of the reach of starlight.
At this moment, Tykchee was wandering on a path between Navorie and Jansian. Scores of people looked up to point and gawp at her wings as she paused to glance out. The stars were all around them, the one comfort when they were so close to the Tear. She could feel its presence keenly as people flocked to the statue city, resolving to wander perhaps a touch faster.
Then the entire gate rocked as something screamed out of void beyond.
Tykchee was the only one who was likely able to see it, soaring between the gate and real space. It appeared to be a vessel, but not bright with murals and carvings. It was a sharp black monstrosity, five times the size of the largest ship she had seen. It looked like the great knives that Kareem was said to have, to peel back the surface of worlds to plant the seeds of forests.
She didn’t know what species possessed that ship, nor what its bearing was, all that she knew is that it had come from the Tear, and she wanted to be as far aways as possible. She flexed her wings, feeling the solar tide lift her up, and then it stopped.
That was wrong. The solar winds didn’t just *stop,* it was impossible.
Then she saw what walked through the void towards her. It was a small, unimposing thing, striding on two legs, covered in a series of white shells. It stopped before her, ice-white plates flexed and contorting as they moved over its body. Scopes and measures focused and refocused on her, the black glass and meta materials like soulless eyes.
The people below had begun screaming in fear and shock at the vessel that now hovered above the bridge.The creature cocked what must be its head, and placed an appendage upon the surface of the gate. White vines and plates began to flow over the surface, and then, in a horrible moment, the screaming stopped. It returned to examine Tykchee, who, without the support of the gate, could now only marvel at how cold and indifferent its gaze was.
Then it placed a hand upon her chest, either not understanding or ignoring her protestations and pleas. Something bloomed inside her, an icy flower that began to wrap around her insides and pull them out. Her last scream was an alarm call, something that might not even have worked through the dilapidated gates.
Unbeknownst to her, it did work.
Across thousands of lightyears and planets, her people heard a single terrifying phrase, laced with the name of a demon from ages past. The evil creature from the dark, whose gluttony had thrown it back into the Tear, never to be heard from until now.
“The humans have come.”
​
​
I write all sorts of things over at /r/The_Alloqium | 2021-01-09T11:57:45 | 2021-01-09T10:54:02 | 2,685 | 235 |
[WP] You have been kidnapped and your wealthy significant other was told to pay the hefty ransom. Instead, they sent a message back to your kidnappers. “Nice knowing you.” While the kidnappers discuss their next move, you look up through the tiny window, stare at the full moon overhead … and smile. | "Nice knowing you? What the hell does that mean!"
"What? Let me see. Shit." He points the gun at my face, "You better start explaining and you better do it fast."
I glance around the room. Trying to encapsulate everything before I die.
There's not much, just blank concrete walls and one window with the moon.
The moon.
I smile, not a creepy smile like most people think, more like a nervous but confident smile, like I know what I can do but I'm afraid to do it.
I feel the transformation begin. It starts with the energy. Surging through my vanes downwards to my legs. "Don't lose control." I whisper, scared.
"What did you say?" Says the man. I don't answer, so he slaps me accross the face.
"You're gonna regret that." I say, my voice distorted and cracking, I look up at them showing my now sharp teeth, and I stop myself half smile. "Don't lose control."
"What the fuck? Johnny do you remember those teeth?"
Johnny huh? Sounded like a family man.
"Tell them I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry for what freak?"
"For this" I say, standing up breaking my ropes. I'm now two feet taller than the men. And I can see the fear on their faces.
"I'm sorry Louve." I say before my vision blacks out. "I lost control." | "Nice...knowing...you..."
The sinister man's mustached lips formed the words as he read. He was visibly trembling, teeth almost gnashing with rage. *"Nice knowing you???* The hell is this clown on about? All right, Toots, *talk."*
He leveled a pistol at me absentmindedly as he stared down at the typewritten note in his hand. At his feet, an expensive leather briefcase lay open. It was filled with blank paper.
I was tied wrist and ankle, still in the black cocktail dress I'd been wearing when I was abducted. I felt it was truly bad form to abduct a woman on her way to a party. Formal attire was a bitch to sit around in. Especially tied to an office chair.
Especially with this clown waving a gun in my face.
"Where's the *money,* Toots?" asked the sinister man, lips tight with rage. "You've got thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn't blow your pretty brains out."
I cast a secretive glance around the room. The one window was too small for me to escape from, even if I weren't tied. But the sliver of night sky outside was taking on a silvery sheen...moonlight was beginning to pour into the room. By its glow I could see the stubble on the sinister man's cheeks, the desperate shadows under his eyes. The waver of the muzzle as he held the gun on me.
The edge of a bright sphere inched into the visible square of night.
I felt a little stronger and a little braver with each increase In the moonlight. The ropes around my wrists and ankles were inconvenient. As my muscles swelled, I snapped the ropes like string and stood, taller than before and quite a lot hairier. I skinned back my red lips in a sudden snarl.
"There won't be any money," I said sweetly. "Aren't I prize enough?" My laugh was a growl.
By this time I was a seven foot werewolf in six-inch stiletto heels and bursting black satin. I was ravenous.
"Jesus Christ!" screamed the man, scrambling backwards and fumbling with the gun. He shot thrice. Two bullets hit me--in the arm and shoulder--but they were silly steel things and did not wound me. Only silver would pierce *my* flesh. I advanced, grinning a grotesquely toothy grin.
"You can go! Get back! Don't--" said the sinister man, before I ate his heart raw.
I saw myself out. | 2021-03-19T04:17:56 | 2021-03-19T04:04:01 | 22 | 14 |
[WP] Humans finally reach the stars and realize that... We've seen all of this before! Galactic Council? Check. Proud warrior race? Check. Hive mind insects? Check. Frightening space boogeymen? Check. Ancient hyper-advanced Race? Check. And so Humanity ventured forth, knowing exactly what to do. | They showed up 4 years ago. That was all it took for them to cause a cataclysmic shit show unlike anything we have ever seen. They called themselves "humans"
A seemingly unremarkable species, at first. Compared to the zombie ships, wandering plant dragons, multiple hive minds like myself, and hundreds of other species ranging from sentient angry slugs to the borderline pacifistic galactic council, these hairless bipedal warm-blooded mammals looked like another unremarkable species in the vast expanse.
That is, until just under 10 of them took residence and immediately dominated the economical landscape. Another completely separate force heard the word "zombie ships" and in less than 6 months brought almost 90% of all known forms into extinction like an army of rabid Menglethogs.
Many forces that dominated the void we call home for literal centuries toppled like a stack of rocks getting kicked by a shoe. We are one of the few hive minds that remain, for the sole reason that we declared loyalty to the Galactic council, which is now ruled almost 50% by humans.
Curious, we studied the humans to see what it was that made them so scary, and the response was... Horrifying at best.
Every single interaction that have ever made, to us, feels like they already knew what we were going to say, think, and do so far in advance it's like they were born knowing what to do. The Txotan, normally considered the most stubborn species, hell-bent on a war path, was brought to nothing more than a few broken fleets by two outdated human cruisers and a reprogrammed AI. They nowadays almost never attack ships anymore. Miegroths, the space plant dragons, learned very quickly to check ships for even a vaguely human smell before even daring to approach, as humans had a tendency to horrendously burn them alive if they so much as bared their teeth. These humans knew almost every trick everyone had. And when questioned, they shrugged and said they saw it in a "book" or "movie".
They never shared this knowledge. In fact, when the humans first left their first planet, they made a race-wide rule, that so far has never been broken. "Do not show them our methods. No books, no stories, no movies, not even a meme. For any reason, ever."
The only time we have ever seen humans be defeated, by a force of equal size, was when humans fought each other. It's like watching demigods try to stab each other.
We really hope these creatures spill their secrets soon... Because we don't know how long the council will see us as allies. It's like these humans see hiveminds as their natural enemy. What the hell taught them this and why?
Recorded log 55, from hivemind "Biobond" while studying Capital Ship 511, S.S.S. Forward Unto Dawn of the UNSC | "First contact. Hooooooly shit."
"Great!"
"Charlie, no offense, but - do you actually understand how significant this is? It's.. it's like something out of science fiction. A lot of things out of science fiction, combined into something... greater. An entire culture, a people, surviving and thriving alone - like Earth - for maybe millions of years, and we'll be the first humans to step foot on their planet. This could be the single most important event in human history. And we're going to be a part of it."
​
"TWO MINUTES TO LANDING!"
"THANKS, LANRET"
​
"I know exactly what it means, Commander Lyons. Genocide!"
​
​
​
"Charlie, I know the three of us have had a lot of strange conversations with the whole 'stuck in deep space for 3 years' thing, but I must have misheard - you didn't just say 'Genocide', right?"
"Why are your jaws dropping? Like you said, it's something out of science fiction.."
"And what exactly does that word have to do with sci-"
"Starship Troopers!!"
"Oh. My. God."
"I mean, they don't seem to be insect people, but the idea still applies.."
"Charlie, the number of things wrong with this impromptu discussion-"
"I don't see any problems with it."
"Charlie, I don't know where this apparently premeditated bout of rapid-onset insanity came from - normal people DON'T casually discuss killing sentient lifeforms."
"Hey, not my fault that it's what humanity does best."
​
​
"ONE MINUTE!"
"NOTED."
"What humanity does best?"
"Oh yeah. 'Kill the Indian in the Child' ring any bells? We've been doing it for centuries."
​
​
"That's fucked up."
"Yeaaaaaah."
​
​
"Okay, let's say this insanity WAS, ***hypothetically***, called for. There aren't any weapons on board. Even if 'they' were violent - which, need I remind you of the **small** fact that **we would've been DEAD by now** \- we couldn't defend ourselves."
"Oh yeah, about that - I stashed away a few supplies when we took off. Should be in one of these panels."
"A-ha! RPG, dozen rockets. Grenades. 4 Kalashnikovs, 10 Magazines each. Plenty for everyone!"
"Charlie, this 30 pound cylinder has a radiation symbol and is half my height. Where did you..?"
"Oh yeah, that. Found it out in the middle o'nowhere, trekking through Nevada this one time. Thought it looked cool."
"Internal sensors are detecting elevated levels of radiation in the cabin.."
"Thanks, Lanret."
"Right, okay, I'm just going to put this back verrrrry carefully, and would you please hand me that cover - thank you."
​
"15 SECONDS!"
​
"I hope that worked some emotions out of your system?"
"Yessir."
"Great! We never had this conversation. Got it?"
"Aye, Commander."
"LANDING!"
"What d'you keep in that backpack? It's awfully large."
"Oh, this thing? Emergency supplies - nothing special."
The spacecraft and its crew gently land on the steps of a grand memorial, apparently to the fallen soldiers of some war. Cities loom in the background, skylines awash in color, while a team of ambassadors - bodies barely distinguishable from the Earth guests, though a bit horse-like - wait at the base, alongside a greeting party. As they carefully descend down the cargo ramp, Charlie pulls out another two Kalashnikovs from his backpack.
"SYKE, BITCHES!" | 2021-05-12T13:17:09 | 2021-05-12T12:50:50 | 115 | 35 |
[WP] You can see everyone's "Kill Number," the number of beings they've killed. Even for the most peaceful people this is in the tens of thousands, due to eating animals and stepping on bugs inadvertently. One day you see a person with the number Zero above their head. | It was all I could do to focus on how small he was. The way his delicate fingers curled around the wrap of his swaddle, the way his tiny eyes struggled to peer blindly upwards against his instinct to sleep. I pushed all other thoughts out of my head, the feelings pressing so hard on my heart I thought it might explode, and stared down at the new life in my hands.
My dad was not a particularly hard man, but came undone altogether on the topic of his children. I had heard the story a dozen times: the moment he fell in love, the moment I wrapped my little hand around his finger and the moment he was wrapped around mine. He would do anything for me. He would die for me, if it came to it. I had heard, and nodded, time after time, hearing but never quite understanding the full meaning.
As my breath caught in my chest, as he yawned and shut his eyes with the apparent determination that this world was too bright for him yet, I came to the sudden realization that I finally understood exactly what my father was talking about.
"Excuse me, sir?" A doctor stepped into the room. "Are you the father?"
The spell was broken. The anxiety crashed over me like a tumultuous wave against a jetty. I swallowed my fear and gave a small nod.
"Sir, I'm so sorry," said the doctor. The look on her face told enough of the story. Her voice melted into the din of the hospital floor.
I looked down at my son. His number was "0", it was the first time I could recall seeing such a thing. I was the youngest of several, I hardly ever had the opportunity.
"If you'd like to come with me, I can give you some time to say goodbye..."
"You will always be loved," I whispered to my son. "This wasn't your fault. I want you to know that. She knew this could happen. We both loved -- love you -- so much."
I wished it could have been me. I would do anything for them. I would die for them. I wish it had been me instead.
I looked him over again, and I knew it was too late to say goodbye. I stared at his number. It was no longer "0". It was "1". | 10,238. “I see… Ten-thousand, two-hundred and thirty-eight!”
I shouted into the sea of onlookers.
The crowd gasped. I faced the man in the chair, his face stricken
with grief. He called himself, “the most peaceful person on Earth.” He was
right, 10,238 was the lowest I’ve seen, but everyone, no matter how peaceful or
violent were shocked by the number.
The highest I’ve seen: 1,836,217. No, it wasn’t some corrupt
world leader, serial arsonist, or anything of the sort. They worked a normal
job, lived a normal life, and did, well, normal things. Nothing out of the ordinary.
My theory was that they caused a chain reaction that somehow killed millions,
but nobody knew for sure.
The man on the stage thanked me and scurried off the stage, head hung low. “Anyone else?” I asked. I couldn’t read a crowd of this size; it would drain me too quickly. Nobody took my offer.
A few seconds of silence later, and I was mentally preparing to wrap it up. But a hand timidly raised up from the back of the crowd. “You there!” I called, motioning for them to come onto the stage. She walked out into the aisle; I could already see her count.
0. I couldn’t believe it. I rubbed my eyes, double, triple-checking if it was really what I thought it was. “Come with me,” I hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her away from the town square, and into my tent. “Who are you?”
“Wha-why are you bringing me here? I thought you would just tell me my number,”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. I see a zero.” She stared in shock.
“B-but I can kill things on will,” I’d only heard of this happening once. I rushed out of my tent, and back into the town square, where the crowd waited.
“Could somebody hand me a bug?” I shouted, the crowd looking bewildered. I spotted a spider on the ground and scooped it up.
I rushed back into the tent and thrust the spider into her hands. “Kill it.”
“You want me to kill it?” She asked, looking up from the spider. I nodded, and she put the spider back into my hands. Its legs were now curled, lifeless as a pebble. I rushed outside of the tent and looked at the spider again. It was alive, scurrying around my hands, looking for an escape.
I stuck my hands back into the tent, and like before, the spider was dead. “Do you realize what you’re doing?” I asked. She shook her head. “You can’t kill things on will, they just play dead,”
I handed her the spider. “Kill it, but this time, try to destroy it.” She smushed the spider with her foot, mashing it into the ground. We were both sure it would not survive. But, mere seconds later, the spider was whole again. I picked its lifeless body up and brought it outside. As expected, it was alive again. I stepped back into the tent.
“Wait, I’ve seen you on the newspaper, what was that about?”
I asked.
“Uh, I used to w-work as an exterminator,”
\--
Thanks for reading! | 2021-05-21T08:42:52 | 2021-05-21T08:40:13 | 27 | 15 |
[WP] Alien travelers stopped at Earth to refuel and consult humans in exchange. An allien consulting an astronomer finds a picture of a black hole on her computer. "Oh, you also scare your children with this tale haha". "No, it's a recent photo" she replies. Alien is visibly freaking out. | The visitor folded inward in a motion that was thoroughly, for lack of a better word, alien. Dr. Braun turned to the 'liaison' that had brought Klurrt and been acting as translator and cultural advisor. She was surprised to see the man frowning with wide eyes, an expression of deep distaste on his face.
"I'm sorry," said Dr. Braun, "Did I offend... him?"
"I don't know," he said, "I've only seen them do this once before. I'm still not sure what it means." He made a set of noises that approximated the language the alien spoke, leading it to unfold.
Through the translator, Klurrt explained. "They are not supposed to exist anymore. Our ancestors were said to have gathered them and fed them to one another until there was only one and that one was placed at the center of the galaxy where it could do no harm."
"Well, this one is nowhere near the center of the galaxy..." said Dr. Braun.
As the translation was carried out there was a twitch but not a full withdrawal. "Where?"
Dr. Braun tapped her keyboard, dismissing the screensaver and navigated to the folder that contained the images. Finding the one she needed she checked the filename and then pulled up her charting software. A minute later she was able to pull up a render of the expected shape of the milky way and trace a line on it. "We aren't sure how far out it is yet. We're still waiting for the parallax shot. It has to be on this line though, and probably somewhere between here and here."
The sensory head pressed close to the screen and there was a chittering sound.
"What is he saying?"
The translator shrugged until Klurrt turned and spoke again. "This should not be. This is bad."
"Why?" asked Dr. Braun, "It's just a black hole. There are lots of them out there, according to our models."
Klurrt snapped shut almost violently, and refused to open again.
"Maybe we shouldn't have told them that." | "Do you have," the periscope eyes of the green mass of flesh looked down at the device attached to the blob of flesh which was an arm, "petroleum. Yes that's what it is. Do you have petroleum?"
The gas station shopkeeper stared at the alien wide-eyed with shock.
"P-e-t-r-o-l-e-u-m," said the skinnier of the blobby creatures.
The shopkeeper's voice cracked with a squeak. He cleared his throat and said: "It's self-service. I can help if you want."
The fatter of the two aliens laughed. "That would be delightful!"
So, the gas station shopkeeper walked out to the oval ship that was no larger than a car and was made from the shiniest metal.
"That's a small ship."
"The best you can find this side of the galaxy," said the skinny alien.
"Where do you put the fuel?"
The fat alien fiddled with the device on his wrist and a pipe popped up protruding out of the space craft.
"Fill it till it's full," said the skinny alien.
The meter on the pump said 5 liters, then 7, then 10, and the craft started beeping.
"That's it? You can travel through space with that much fuel?"
The fat alien laughed. His flabby personage jiggled all the way through. "I know it's not the most efficient of models."
The shopkeeper did not say anything. He was deep in thought.
"Now can we leave?" said the skinny alien.
"Uh...wait. You have to pay first. Ten dollars."
"Dollars?" the fat alien said and fiddled with his device. "We have these...online accounts."
"Oh sure show me the QR code. I'll fix you right up."
The shopkeeper took his phone out, on his lockscreen was the image of a black hole. The skinny alien screamed. The shopkeeper dropped his phone.
"Hey! Cut it out Xorg. What's the matter?"
"Look...look," said the skinny alien, pointing towards the phone.
The fat alien picked it up and the lockscreen flashed in front of his eyes, but his reaction was stoic.
"It's just an old tale, Xorg. I'm sure this gentleman here uses it to amuse his children. Do you?"
"No. It's a black hole. It's no old tale. They exist. It's a recent photo."
The fat alien laughed. "You aren't fooling me today. What do you know of these things? You are merely an accountant for a petroleum station."
The shopkeeper scratched his head. "Actually, I am an astronomer. I'm working from home nowadays. My brother is in quarantine so I had to run the gas station for a few days."
The fat alien and the skinny alien turned yellow green.
"We need to go! This time is not a good time!" said the skinny alien.
"They will gobble you up, kind human, they will. Keep safe," said the fat alien.
"Wait! What are you going to do?"
The aliens got in their craft. The skinny alien punched some numbers in into a console.
"We are going to drive down this road and at 88 miles per hour we'll be gone!" said the fat alien.
The craft sped away and disappeared in a flash of blue light. | 2021-12-24T06:14:38 | 2021-12-24T04:45:56 | 2,278 | 165 |
[WP] Alien travelers stopped at Earth to refuel and consult humans in exchange. An allien consulting an astronomer finds a picture of a black hole on her computer. "Oh, you also scare your children with this tale haha". "No, it's a recent photo" she replies. Alien is visibly freaking out. | Have been reading WP for a while. This is my first attempt at writing something for here. Feel free to critique as it is the only way I will improve.
--------
"It's what" the alien said surprised
"It's the most recent image taken of a Black Hole" the astronomer replied.
"How did you get this, Our best scientists have theorised that a large enough star could collapse into a singularity and have produced images like this but it is only a theory. We have never been able locate one"
"How were you looking" The scientist asked.
"We were using extremely fine gravitational detectors and the most advanced x ray sensors that we have developed looking for holes in space and the background radiation but have never located any. How did you locate them"
"A scientist by the name of Stephen Hawking theorised that due to the nature of the way black holes interact with virtual particles that pop into existence and then disappear they can actually emit radiation , Once we started looking we discovered them everywhere we look. Nearly every galaxy has a super massive black hole in the center of it. This galaxy for example has a black hole larger than this solar system. "
"How do you know that" The alien asked astonished.
"Well, We know the Black hole was there and there are stars orbiting it. We were able to image those stars and map their orbits and using orbital mechanics were able to calculate the mass of the Black Hole they were orbiting" the scientist replied.
The alien looked at the scientist astonished. "I need to bring this information back home immediately that humanity have discovered how to detect black holes. Over the centuries we have lost many ships and have never had an answer as to why. This may just have solved some of those mysteries"
"Who knows what else you may have discovered" the alien said
"Do you know about gravity waves caused by two black holes merging"
"They can do what" the alien said in shock.
"Wait till i tell you about LIGO" the scientist said with a smile.
----
[Where I got the information RE Hawking](https://www.space.com/39988-black-hole-mysteries-stephen-hawking.html) | "Do you have," the periscope eyes of the green mass of flesh looked down at the device attached to the blob of flesh which was an arm, "petroleum. Yes that's what it is. Do you have petroleum?"
The gas station shopkeeper stared at the alien wide-eyed with shock.
"P-e-t-r-o-l-e-u-m," said the skinnier of the blobby creatures.
The shopkeeper's voice cracked with a squeak. He cleared his throat and said: "It's self-service. I can help if you want."
The fatter of the two aliens laughed. "That would be delightful!"
So, the gas station shopkeeper walked out to the oval ship that was no larger than a car and was made from the shiniest metal.
"That's a small ship."
"The best you can find this side of the galaxy," said the skinny alien.
"Where do you put the fuel?"
The fat alien fiddled with the device on his wrist and a pipe popped up protruding out of the space craft.
"Fill it till it's full," said the skinny alien.
The meter on the pump said 5 liters, then 7, then 10, and the craft started beeping.
"That's it? You can travel through space with that much fuel?"
The fat alien laughed. His flabby personage jiggled all the way through. "I know it's not the most efficient of models."
The shopkeeper did not say anything. He was deep in thought.
"Now can we leave?" said the skinny alien.
"Uh...wait. You have to pay first. Ten dollars."
"Dollars?" the fat alien said and fiddled with his device. "We have these...online accounts."
"Oh sure show me the QR code. I'll fix you right up."
The shopkeeper took his phone out, on his lockscreen was the image of a black hole. The skinny alien screamed. The shopkeeper dropped his phone.
"Hey! Cut it out Xorg. What's the matter?"
"Look...look," said the skinny alien, pointing towards the phone.
The fat alien picked it up and the lockscreen flashed in front of his eyes, but his reaction was stoic.
"It's just an old tale, Xorg. I'm sure this gentleman here uses it to amuse his children. Do you?"
"No. It's a black hole. It's no old tale. They exist. It's a recent photo."
The fat alien laughed. "You aren't fooling me today. What do you know of these things? You are merely an accountant for a petroleum station."
The shopkeeper scratched his head. "Actually, I am an astronomer. I'm working from home nowadays. My brother is in quarantine so I had to run the gas station for a few days."
The fat alien and the skinny alien turned yellow green.
"We need to go! This time is not a good time!" said the skinny alien.
"They will gobble you up, kind human, they will. Keep safe," said the fat alien.
"Wait! What are you going to do?"
The aliens got in their craft. The skinny alien punched some numbers in into a console.
"We are going to drive down this road and at 88 miles per hour we'll be gone!" said the fat alien.
The craft sped away and disappeared in a flash of blue light. | 2021-12-24T04:49:03 | 2021-12-24T04:45:56 | 564 | 165 |
[WP] A city has been cursed such that anyone who enters it will transform into their desired marriage partner. Things get awkward when the Hero's Party enters it and all the Hero's companions transform into their idealized version of the Hero. | When everybody in the four-person party - including Adine - turned into a rich-looking version of Adine, they all decided that taking a break and getting a drink was the right course of action.
Not because they wanted to decompress this slightly awkward fact, but because *they were rich*.
"Ok, so I'm not going to ask 'why money'. We're mercenaries with a fancier title. Priorities." said Original Adine when her bottle of wine for 8 gold stood on the tavern table. "But I somehow feel like this isn't a coincidence. Why rich me? My financial decisions are terrible."
"Isn't that exactly it?" muttered another one of the Adines.
"Wait, which one are you?" said Original Adine with a frown.
"Clessa." said Clessa-Adine, lifting up her mug of hipster craft beer for 10 gold and nodding at her.
"Clessa is right." said the third Adine. This one had to be Dani, because she had ordered a standard mug of hot butterbeer. "It's your biggest flaw. Sometimes, you remind me of a comedy sketch. Like some author sat down and decided to make you perfect but then they realize they made a Mary Sue so they slapped on a crippling inability to handle your finances and turned it into a comedy because you're *so unbelievably bad at it*."
"Hey, I always pay your wages." said Original Adine.
"And when was the last time you had any money over for your *own* salary?" said the fourth, who had to be Glinda since there was only Glinda left. Glinda had just bought the most expensive bottle of champaigne on the menu simply because she could. It was 50 gold, enough for a down payment on a good direwolf mount, saddle and all. "But, yes this is incredibly awkward, but isn't this a great deal? If we're all an idealized version of Adine, doesn't that mean that as long as we stay here we'll never run out of money? Because ideal rich Adine always has money?"
All the other three paused at that.
"Holyshit." said Original Adine. "There's so much wrong with this for me but holyshit."
"So, my suggestion is that most of us leave this town because this is kind of toeing on the line of consent and that stuff" said presumably-Glinda, "but one of us remains here to buy everything we could possibly need. Put in orders for what they don't have stocked right now. Might as well make this work for us, right?"
"Hm, but counterpoint." said the fifth rich Adine at the table, who'd bought that same bottle of extremely expensive champaign. The tavern was gonna roll in dough this evening. "If we all look the same, it gives us a tactical advantage. We could use this place as the final battleground and the enemy wouldn't be able to tell us apart. Hide our skillsets, all that stuff. We just need to lure in the Demon Lord."
"Huh. Actually that's kinda-" Original Adine started, only to cut her sentence short.
She slowly turned and stared at the fifth Adine at the table.
Herself. Clessa. Dani. Glinda. That was all of them.
Why were there five rich Adines at the table when there were four people in their party? | The Hero's Party was not having a good day. Lady Alizarin had been captured and taken into the cursed city of Temperance, where all who entered were transformed into the one they loved the most. The four adventurers were lost in the city streets, they were running low on healing items, and as the cherry on top, all four women had become different variations of Lady Alizarin.
Teakan the rogue, who had become a Lady Alizarin in a leather getup with a riding crop and leash attached to her belt, shivered and said, "Can we please stop somewhere? I'm freezing to death over here." As soon as she said that, a warm light enveloped Teakan. "Okay, that's better. Thank you, Freya."
Freya the druid, who had become a Lady Alizarin dressed in druidic robes, gave a silent thumbs up. She then turned to Uma the barbarian, who was turned into a Lady Alizarin wearing exotic jewelry and fine silks, and said, "You realize we're gonna have to talk about this at some point."
"What? That we all want to wife up Ally? I think I'm sticking with living in denial over it."
"Come on, it's not that awkward." Rowan the cleric, who transformed into a Lady Alizarin in a simple blue sundress, walked up into the space between Uma and Freya. "I mean, what's not to love about Ally? She's brave, funny, clever--"
"She has a really great butt," Teakan added on.
"That's not what I'm talking about!" Uma turned around to face her companions. "I'm talking about the fact that nobody wins no matter what happens! If Alizarin looks like one of us, then what happens to the other three? Do they just keep rolling with the party and try to get over the fact that the woman they loved didn't want them? And what if she looks like someone else entirely, or looks exactly like herself because she doesn't want to get married?"
Freya clasped her hands together and meekly said, "Well, maybe she'll want to marry all four of us."
Uma sighed. "Look, Freya, it's a nice idea, but we gotta face facts: nobody's going to be walking out of this city with an unbroken heart."
The party fell silent as Uma's words sunk in. Suddenly, a little orange light began moving back and forth on the ground. Teakan glanced up and saw an orange crystal medallion hanging in a sunlit open window. She excitedly pointed up and said, "She's up there! Ally's in that room, her necklace is in the window!" The party rushed into the building and up the stairs. They threw themselves into the room... and immediately stopped dead in their tracks.
Lady Alizarin had become all four of them. A copy of Teakan, Freya, Uma, and Rowan were sitting in the empty room, each one clad in lacy black lingerie. Uma-Alizarin remarked, "Hey y'all," with a bored expression on her face. The party had no real response to the situation before them, though Freya did turn to Uma to say, "What was that about her not wanting to marry all four of us?"
"Shut up, Freya." Uma then turned to Rowan-Alizarin and said, "You, uh, don't look that surprised by how we look."
"Saw you guys from the window. Bit of a shock, lemme tell you. Now, we have some stuff to figure out, and I vote we do so away from this fucking city. Who's with me?"
"Absolutely," Freya replied. "But I'm gonna get a headstart on the discussion: you should marry Rowan. I mean it. She's an amazing cook and sweet as candy. Downright lethal wife material."
Rowan blushed. "Oh, stop--"
*POOF!*
Two more copies appeared: a Freya in a green sundress, and a Rowan in her own set of druidic robes. The two stared at each other and said, "What the hell?!"
Teakan-Alizarin sighed. "Like I said, a lot to figure out."
Once the party had left Temperance and set up camp, they discussed the situation in full, unabridged depth, and realized they all wanted to marry each other. The five heroes then made it through the rest of their journey as intimately connected as only lovers could be, and pledged themselves to each other in holy matrimony after they defeated Horatio the Lich King. | 2022-10-20T08:56:47 | 2022-10-20T07:17:48 | 112 | 35 |
[WP] “Although we are grateful to you for defeating our oppressors, you were meant to die in battle…” your “allies” suddenly turned their weapons on you, “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.” | Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. They had turned on me. All that I have sacrificed for them and it wasn’t enough. I saved them and they were going to kill me.
They were afraid of me. That was the only logical conclusion. The entire time I had spent to gather power to save them and they turn on me as soon as the fight is over.
A monster. They had claimed I had lost myself in the power. That I was just as bad as the things we fought. But that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. I did those awful things because I had to.
But that wasn’t the truth. Well at first it was. I didn’t like all the blood and violence, but they got results and soon we were fighting back. At some point it just got easier. I didn’t feel as much regret, and eventually what little regret I did feel just went away.
It wasn’t until recently that I actually started to enjoy the screams. After all the pain they caused us, it was nice to be able to give some back. But that doesn’t make me a monster. I only hurt monsters. Right?
As I gazed down at my blood soaked hands I realized that most of it was my from my people. The people that I promised to protect. These hands had once wielded a sword to protect them. In an instant I had just as quickly used it to cut them down. The worst part? I didn’t feel bad.
Why should I? They had tried to kill me. I lead the army into this final fight and dealt the killing blow. And yet they turned on me without a second thought. So I killed them in self defense.
As I looked around I realized that I was the only living thing in the area. I survived. Everything that had tried to kill me lay dead by my hand. I let a smile take over my face. I was the apex predator now. There was nothing that could take me down.
With one final look I set off back home. I would be welcomed back as a hero. One who stood up against all odds and survived whereas my allies crumpled. They didn’t know I had killed them. After all who could tell them. With one final battle I had killed everything that considered me a threat. I had won where everyone else failed. | My hands were shaking and covered in some mix of substances that I *really* didn't want to think about. The hall was almost silent, but my own shaky breathing broke the illusion.
I swallowed hard, composing myself like I had hundreds of times before, and turned to the doors where I knew my team was waiting. I plastered on a huge grin, whistled, and watched as the huge things opened.
"Holy..." Aaron walked up to me, brushing a hand along the gash in my stomach. "How bad?"
I shrugged. "Meh, I've had worse. What about you?"
He gestured to the others. Katrina was holding a very sharp and very bloody piece of wood, and Rachet was covered in that black goop that seemed to go everywhere when you blew this dude's minions up.
"Well, you're all alive, that's good." I muttered, turning back to the mutilated corpse that was just kind of lying at my feet. Wrapping my arms around his chin, I pulled as hard as I could until I felt his helm shift. Obviously the blood everywhere helped, but it was still an absolute pain to get the thing off, even with the help of the others.
But once we did, I finally lost my lunch.
I'd say I'm pretty good at keeping my guts down. I can bottom a tankard and walk...mostly straight, and I spent my teenage years in the slums so I've seen my fair share of corpses, but as soon as that guy's face came into view I turned away and hurled. His entire head looked like the aftermath of one of Aaron's potion mistakes; covered in burns and with the skin slipping off like an oversized tunic.
Someone, I think it was Katrina, patted my back until I'd puked up every meal for the past week. I stood up, probably looking like I'd just risen from the grave and wiped my mouth off.
"What...the good Gods...is that?"
I turned to look at the person beside me, Katrina, and was absolutely shocked by what I saw. You see, Kat's a warrior; she fought for the Red Queen before her highness was overthrone. All that happened when I was just a kid, so all I know is that she was a just ruler who never allowed any kind favourites in her court, which made a lot of stuck up snobs angry because they had to share a table with the poor people. Eventually this bloke (the one lying dead and heavily disfigured at my feet) had gathered enough of those snobs to form an army without her knowledge, whom he then used to storm her castle, and eventually execute her.
Katrina saw all of this, and she couldn't have been older than me when it happened. I have a lot of respect for her, really. So you can imagine my shock when I saw her looking just as disgusted as me.
"I have no idea, but I want it out of my sight." She snarled, keeping a hand on my shoulder.
"I...I think we have other problems." Rachet said, and I turned to see him staring out the window.
"What?"
He turned back, his eyes wide with confusion. "The chosen one is here."
Part one: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/yf4vs5/wp_you_are_the_chosen_one_and_now_you_face_your/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb
Part 2 will be in the comments! | 2022-11-01T16:21:15 | 2022-11-01T15:14:16 | 149 | 45 |
[WP] Write a comedic story but in the last line, change it into a horror story | He loved the writing props thread. It was something that allowed him to be creative despite a pretty dull existence.
One day, he saw a prompt he really liked and so he told a humorous story of a man who so enjoyed making people smile he would, on some days, dress as a clown in the city center, and on others, visit children in the hospital, paying for their medical expenses.
He liked writing this story, it made him happy to think of the benevolent man who brought smiles to everyone. He thought about how it might be received on the thread.
But then, his computer crashed, deleting everything he had typed. | I'm kind of bored and not sure what to write so forgive me if this sucks.
It was a long trip. Always was, the drive from our dorm out to the lake. Usually took upwards of 7 hours but we didn't mind. We'd spend most of the drive singing along to the latest pop shit on the radio or riling up Dan with some bullshit conspiracy theory he'd always believe. It was different this summer though. Mark got deep into a relationship and pretty much cut off contact with us and Jenny moved down to Missouri.
We stopped by a diner on the way to eat. Kong sent back his omelet 6 times just to see how mad the waitress would get. By the time he finally ate it who knows what was in that thing. He left a generous tip though, i think somewhere around $50 with a note telling her to share it with the cooks, he was a dick but always made up for it in grand ways.
It was almost dusk when we finally got back on the road. Marge and Lily sat up front while us three guys crammed in the back. We still had another 3 hours to go. Dan and I had a smoke to kill the time, which really made Lily happy. Fucking stoner loved her grass more than any of us. The 5 of us got high as balls and just laughed for what felt like days. We laughed at the stupidest shit like a cow on top of a hill or Kong making impressions of our physics teacher. We finally pulled up to the cabin at around 10:30. The trees looked so high up and far away that it felt like they never ended. It was extremely dark once the car shut off. We all piled out and grabbed our things and went up to the door...
I miss all of them, I wish the drive had gone on forever. | 2013-10-24T22:16:10 | 2013-10-24T20:37:06 | 24 | 12 |
[WP]An old genie grants you three wishes. After granting your first two, you tell him the third. He is horrified, and begs you to reconsider | I'd like something I can read to my kids. Always wanted to write a story they could illustrate so thanks for the prompt! :) Here goes.
---
In the land of the fairies and sunshine and sweets,
There lived a young lady named Addy Elise.
She frolicked and played and read books and explored,
But on this fine day was exceptionally bored.
---
> "Mama" she asked "May I please climb the hill?"
> "I am terribly bored it would be such a thrill."
---
> "No you may not and for reasons you know."
> "You may *not* climb the hill I will *not* let you go."
---
Addy felt angry and sad and upset.
There was magic up there and on that she would bet.
So without any thought or regard or regret,
She went to the hill with Ralphie, her pet.
---
They climbed and they climbed until well after 3.
They climbed past their dinner and bedtime TV.
They climbed over obstacles, branches and rocks.
Ralphie complained "Just please, Addy, STOP!"
---
She paused for a moment and petted her friend.
Believing that magic was just round the bend.
She pleaded with Ralphie "Just please ten more steps".
And Ralphie replied "That is all that you get."
---
Onwards they went and they rounded the bend.
How right she had been for they found a new friend!
> "I am a genie" he said with a grin.
> "You may have three wishes not twenty or ten."
---
> "A genie? And wishes? I knew I was right!"
---
> "You must hurry up or we'll be here all night."
---
> "For wish number one I want freedom and fun."
> "I don't like the rules from my dad or my mum."
---
Poof it was done and the rules had all gone.
Wish number two "I want my own Swan."
Ralphie looked worried but soon it arrived.
Remarkably fast for a bird of its size.
---
> "And now" said the genie "your one final wish?"
---
> "I wish that all genies no longer exist."
---
Astonished the genie recoiled in fear.
> "But why would you possibly wish that my dear?"
Ralphie looked sad and afraid and dismayed.
Upset with the wish that Addy had made.
---
> "But Addy!" he cried and he begged and he whined.
> "This genie of ours is a marvelous find!"
---
> "I know that Ralphie but you know it too."
> "If mommy finds out we'll have baby two."
> "He deals in dreams and grand wishes and magic."
> "If mommy found out the results would be tragic."
---
> "Your mommy and daddy both love you a lot."
> "They'd never wish that but it matters not."
> "For you my sweet thing are more special than others."
> "Your mom and dad cannot wish for a brother."
---
> "What do you mean? That's just what they'd do."
> "They'd wish for a brother and we'd have a zoo."
---
> "I'm trying to tell you my princess of tricks."
> "If it weren't for me you just wouldn't exist."
---
She gasped and turned to run away.
But Ralphie begged her please to stay.
---
> "So my princess, wish number 3?"
> "Shall I disappear and let you be?"
---
> "I know they love me and I've changed my mind."
> "I'd like it if please we could go back in time."
---
> "Just how far would you like my dear?"
> "Today? Yesterday? Sometime last year?"
---
> "Just after lunch just before we went climbing."
> "So we can tell mommy we love her, good timing."
---
EDIT: Holy mack I got gold. Wtf. You guys are fun! | "A genie?" The genie questioned in bemusement, his chest rising, strained countenance retreating and eyes rolling to the top right corner of his head as if to diagnose the obvious malfunction of his ears.
"A genie" the man said smugly. Satisfied with his own quick thinking.
"You.. WANT to be a genie?" The genie questioned, his face grimacing as he realised there was nothing wrong with his ears.
"Yes. Why not? Look what you can do! The power you have! The things I could do... the women I could love, the enemies I could smite, the money I could make! I want to be a genie. That is my third wish. I want to be a genie. Now." The man folded his arms and stuck up his nose as if demanding to see a manager in a supermarket.
"But... you don't understand... we aren't like you. Genies serve, we do not have our own lives, we do not feel passion, hatred, love... we do not succumb to the flaws of humanity that make you so... so... unpredictable. We are travelers, granting wishes to those drawn to us... we do not have freedom as you know it. We do not desire it. For thousands of years I have traveled, content to serve when a traveler should find me. My lamp is not just my home, it is my prison" the genie warned. His tone was somber and fearful, yet as he spoke he knew his words could not penetrate the man's growing sense of his own now unlimited potential.
"Perhaps you're just... unimaginative. Benign even. Just like humanity. I see it every day. The drudgery. The malcontent of the masses. It makes me sick. I feel trapped. I won't do it anymore. I demand the power to be something more! I demand my third wish! I demand to be a genie!" The man stomped his foot impatiently with every demand, staring menacingly in to the genie's eyes.
The genie paused and grimaced. What was he to do? The laws had existed for thousands of years. 3 wishes. That's it. No more, no less. The human speaks and the genie delivers. From the sands of Egypt to the aromas of the Orient he had traveled, granting wishes, no matter what they were. He couldn't stop, he couldn't make exceptions even if it went against his better judgement... it was not in his nature. He knew the human didn't understand. But duty often calls for tragic acts. For humans and genies alike.
"Very well". Said the genie, his face now devolving to a somber stare. "But no this, human. I warned you."
A flash. A piercing sound. The man's eyes closed. He fell. He slept.
He woke, painfully. The genie was gone. The stars that had watched their conversation like a million tiny cameras above him had gone. He found himself lying on a bright, tiled floor, a piercing, dazzling light hanging above him.
Once his senses returned he sprang to his feet, excited and ready to wield his mighty new powers.
"I wonder how it works" he thought, looking around him. He was in a peculiarly shaped room, decorated like a Moroccan market. The room was longer than it was wide, with the longer walls poking outwards, curved, fat, and rising upwards until they met in the middle directly above him, forming the roof. All the walls were golden and decorated with colorful fabrics and paintings. But he had little patients for decor, not when he had the power of the universe inside him.
He closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to his home. Nothing happened.
Confused, he tried again.
Still, nothing.
"I know", he thought. He tried again, thinking so hard he thought his eyes might pop out of his head, he clicked his fingers.
Still, nothing.
He clapped. He jumped. He shouted. He screamed. He begged. He demanded. He wailed.
Still, nothing.
"The genie lied" he cursed. "I have no power!!".
Once his temper subsided he reexamined the room. Suddenly he recognized its peculiar shape. "A lamp!", he thought. "I'm in a lamp".
His frustration grew. His temper flared. "But if I'm in a lamp then I *must* be a genie." Again he tried with all his power to exercise the mighty powers he *knew* were inside him. But nothing.
Again he cursed the genie that had forsaken him. He began to look for an exit. No doors. No windows. No escape.
He wept.
"My lamp is not just my home, it is my prison", the genie's words rose from his memory like smoke from a fire.
The genie had warned him. But he had not listened.
As the tears rolled down his cheeks he knew his error. Thousands of years, the genie had said. Thousands of years granting wishes to *humans.* Not to themselves.
He had become a genie, yes. But at the price of his freedom. His enemies would not be defeated. The women he loved would not be his. His lot was decided by his own hubris.
A human and a fool he had been. A genie and a trapped fool he had become. | 2014-07-26T14:04:22 | 2014-07-26T13:43:42 | 76 | 56 |
[WP] The death penalty for murder no longer exists, instead technology has been developed that overwrites the mind of the killer with that of their victim. | Mother doesn't talk to me any more. I don't know why. She doesn't let me into the house, screams at me whenever I appear. I don't know what I did to make her so angry.
I get so confused these days. I thought I was a girl, but the doctors tell me I just need to keep taking the pills, and the nice surgeon will give me an operation to make everything right. But they're hiding something, I know it.
I keep asking them the same question. They sometimes look at me with sad eyes, other times they look angry. But they never answer.
I just want to know where my daddy is.
I miss him. | How the fuck did this fat ass kill me.
I spent years training my body. Doing squats, benching well past my body weight. I'd run marathons, placed in triathlons, ridden my bike cross country. I even did kiegels to strengthen my internal muscles. Yet somehow this fat fuck got me with a knife.
I looked at my murderers pudgy, swollen fingers covered in my own blood. I was still breathing heavy from the dead sprint. Despite my well fed physique, I was starving.
I looked at my broken, defeated body. I thought I was a masterpiece. The face I was wearing didn't show the confidence I thought I exuded. My triceps still glistened sweat from the workout I had just completed. I was set to enter a body building competition next month, but for all I trained I wasn't able to keep my cool against some fedora wearing fuck waving a knife at me. My face was frozen in a mask of fear.
I was an idiot. I had run myself straight into a corner. I didn't even have the forethought to grab for the knife, I didn't even attempt to use those muscle I spent so long sculpting. It's like my brain stopped working in the face of panic.
In my new pockets there was a note, handwritten. I unfolded it. "You think you're Mr. Perfect. You stole the one thing I loved, so now I'm going to steal the one thing you love most. This is for Jessica."
Jessica. I remember her. Redhead, smoking hot calves. I met her in a bar hanging out with her friend. The neckbeard... Jessica.
I smelled a scent like rotten diarrhea. What the fuck, this guy didn't even wipe first? I sighed. Grabbing my own bag and wallet from the ground, I turned around and walked back to the gym. Back to square one, I guess. | 2014-07-27T11:17:55 | 2014-07-27T10:05:23 | 48 | 22 |
[WP] A man gains the amount of people in the world as money on his account. But when he spends that money, people die. | “Change?” His eyes are sunken deep in their sockets, glittering inside of a gaunt and wrinkled face. The woman sneers, offended and does not reply, does not look at him. Her designer heels click against the pavement as she hurries past, laughing at something her friend says, the encounter already forgotten.
“Change?” His cup jingles. The doctor, still holding the change from his double shot venti latte shrugs and drops fifteen cents into the crumbling paper cup. The man smiles up at him but the doctor's pager goes off and he hurries away.
“Change?” It is late at night. The teenager laughs at him, showing off for his group of friends.
“Fuck off you fucking junkie!”he giggles. He uses profanity like a child taking its first steps. The man looks down and says nothing. He hopes they will go away, that they will not hurt him or take his cup of nickels and dimes as so many others like him have done in the past.
“Shut the fuck up Bernie!” a girl in the group shouts. She fumbles in her wallet for a moment and then hands the man a crisp twenty. “He's an asshole,” she says to him, indicating her companion, who is now staring at her angrily. “Find someplace warm for the night, okay?”
“Let's GO, Kristen,” Bernie mumbles, angry that his actions have been so undermined. With a last long look at the man she turns and leaves, not responding to Bernie's continuing criticisms. Their voices echo down the block, through the canyons of the city.
The man stares down at the twenty in his hands. He has over seven billion dollars in a bank account. He could use it tonight. He could find a warm place just like she asked, a penthouse apartment filled with booze and blow and women.
He thinks of the girl's kind face and words.
He draws his tattered coat, stuffed full of newspapers for extra warmth, tighter around him. The newspapers crinkle.
| "Five billion?"
"Yes Mr. Jones, five billion."
"And what exactly is five billion buying me?"
Anne Reid straightened up in her chair and allowed a smile to creep onto her usually stern face. Stern but beautiful. A woman in a position such as hers had to be beautiful. I assumed it was like any other profession in which beautiful woman do better; especially when dealing with rich men. Better looking waitresses took home more tips, attractive realtors sold more expensive homes, pretty prostitutes were call girls and escorts instead of hookers.
"First and foremost, five billion buys peace of mind. Extensive medical screening for every employee that is used from the engineers to the maids. After the primary screening employees are placed in quarantine for 14 days before a final physical is performed."
The process sounded thorough enough. You could never be too careful nowadays with the world the way it was. "That sounds well and good, worth a hundred million or so at least. Are you confident that this level of screening will keep my family safe from harm?"
If there was any doubt in her mind, Anne Reid did not allow it to show on her face. "Very confident. The rest of the money will go to more concrete expenditures. There's an airstrip and heli-pad to construct, commercial grade boat dock, and multiple accommodation units."
"I trust these units will built to my standard?"
"Every luxury you requested and then some. We will also be constructing a paved network of roads connecting everything. That one was my idea, I didn't think a man with a collection of cars as elaborate as yours would want to spend the rest of his life unable to drive."
Five billion. It was almost everything I had left but I hadn't expected buying an island to be cheap. Easy come easy go as they say. Besides, it was a small price to pay for the safety of my family and friends. We would be safe from the plagues in our little island paradise as the rest of the world burned around us. I shifted in my seat and tried to make it look like I was debating the purchase but my mind had been made up for months. I supposed I could have more units built and sell safety at a premium if I ever need some walking around money. "How long will it take before the island is ready to be settled? Time is of the essence, i'm sure you understand."
Anne's eyes began to gleam like a starved wolf that happened upon a herd of sheep. I wonder what kind of commission she was getting from a five billion dollar purchase. Probably the kind that would allow her to relocate to a small island herself. "If it pleases you, you and your party can begin the screening process today. By the time it is complete we will have a temporary residence in place."
Anne Reid did not fuck around. "Wonderful, so is it just a matter of shaking hands and signing a dotted line?"
"That, and the payment. Half now, half upon completion of the project."
"Send the contracts to my lawyer and i'll have my accountant begin the transfer after everything is looked over. Pleasure doing business with you Ms. Reid."
"Likewise Mr. Jones. Safe travels." | 2014-08-09T08:49:37 | 2014-08-09T06:17:20 | 255 | 13 |
[WP] A man gains the amount of people in the world as money on his account. But when he spends that money, people die. | He ran his fingers over the ridges of the card in his hand. It was ironic- the rest of the world saw him as an unemployed man, hurting for money, not an uncommon sight. It was true, he was very similar to the rest of those who fell in the depression, but one thing set him apart. This one slip of plastic, *his* slip of plastic, contained more money than most men could ever dream of.
When he had first used it, he had seen it as the solution to all his problems, he just needed it to stabilize his life. With its help, he could get a house, a job. Maybe, if he did well enough, his daughter might be able to come live with him.
When he bought a car, the problem began. It wasn't even that nice of a car, he wasn't an overindulgent man. Just four wheels in good working order. All he wanted was a way to get around.
The next day he saw the news. A natural disaster, thousands dead.
Just a coincidence, it had to be.
But at time passed, he came to see the curse of his newfound money. he who had killed all those people. The guilt haunted him, he descended to drinking. His life spiraled out of control.
But he made the decision to turn himself around. Without the card, with his own sweat and blood. He wasn't there yet, but he was on his way.
That was his problem, he wasn't there yet. Today, his daughter was turning six. And his pockets were empty of money. His sweat and blood were not yet able to buy her the doll she wanted. It was an expensive doll, but he was determined to get it for her. And so he did what he had vowed never to do again.
He turned down her street with the box in his hand. The cashier had put a lovely bow on it, it was perfect, she was going to love it. He had a smile until he saw the the lights of the ambulance.
It was then that he saw the small body bag being loaded on. | "Five billion?"
"Yes Mr. Jones, five billion."
"And what exactly is five billion buying me?"
Anne Reid straightened up in her chair and allowed a smile to creep onto her usually stern face. Stern but beautiful. A woman in a position such as hers had to be beautiful. I assumed it was like any other profession in which beautiful woman do better; especially when dealing with rich men. Better looking waitresses took home more tips, attractive realtors sold more expensive homes, pretty prostitutes were call girls and escorts instead of hookers.
"First and foremost, five billion buys peace of mind. Extensive medical screening for every employee that is used from the engineers to the maids. After the primary screening employees are placed in quarantine for 14 days before a final physical is performed."
The process sounded thorough enough. You could never be too careful nowadays with the world the way it was. "That sounds well and good, worth a hundred million or so at least. Are you confident that this level of screening will keep my family safe from harm?"
If there was any doubt in her mind, Anne Reid did not allow it to show on her face. "Very confident. The rest of the money will go to more concrete expenditures. There's an airstrip and heli-pad to construct, commercial grade boat dock, and multiple accommodation units."
"I trust these units will built to my standard?"
"Every luxury you requested and then some. We will also be constructing a paved network of roads connecting everything. That one was my idea, I didn't think a man with a collection of cars as elaborate as yours would want to spend the rest of his life unable to drive."
Five billion. It was almost everything I had left but I hadn't expected buying an island to be cheap. Easy come easy go as they say. Besides, it was a small price to pay for the safety of my family and friends. We would be safe from the plagues in our little island paradise as the rest of the world burned around us. I shifted in my seat and tried to make it look like I was debating the purchase but my mind had been made up for months. I supposed I could have more units built and sell safety at a premium if I ever need some walking around money. "How long will it take before the island is ready to be settled? Time is of the essence, i'm sure you understand."
Anne's eyes began to gleam like a starved wolf that happened upon a herd of sheep. I wonder what kind of commission she was getting from a five billion dollar purchase. Probably the kind that would allow her to relocate to a small island herself. "If it pleases you, you and your party can begin the screening process today. By the time it is complete we will have a temporary residence in place."
Anne Reid did not fuck around. "Wonderful, so is it just a matter of shaking hands and signing a dotted line?"
"That, and the payment. Half now, half upon completion of the project."
"Send the contracts to my lawyer and i'll have my accountant begin the transfer after everything is looked over. Pleasure doing business with you Ms. Reid."
"Likewise Mr. Jones. Safe travels." | 2014-08-09T09:05:23 | 2014-08-09T06:17:20 | 46 | 13 |
[WP] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero. This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible. | "We cannot have a black super hero with the powers of shop lifting."
"Okay, well, then you're not going to like Sombrero man."
"Sombrero man? What's a Sombrero man?
"Mexican super hero."
"David. This is incredibly racist."
"No, no, no, see, his super powers are different."
"How David. How are they different."
"Well, like one of his super powers, he can gain citizenship in any country, no questions asked."
"David, these are not super heros and they do not have super powers. None of them will work. Like Captain Frugal, who's Indian, and The Amazing Chong, who's super power, is parallel parking? David. No. None of these will work. These will not work I'm telling you."
"Oh, right. You're just saying no to all of these because I'm white."
| "I can't believe this." The young father slammed the comic book down.
"What?"
"This character is an absolute, fucking idiot. I don't get it."
"It's a comic." She hadn't stopped washing the dishes since be had begun reading the Limited Edition #1 "Peeve."
"Yeah, I know it's a comic. But Christ, this Peeve character is horrific. I literally want to punch something right now." He stood up from the kitchen table, grabbed his coffee, and walked toward the sliding glass door.
"What's it about, anyway?" She turned off the water and dried her hands off as she started to walk toward him.
"I don't really even fucking know." He looked hard out into the field behind the house. His youngest son kicked a soccer ball against the 6' privacy fence. "The character, Peeve, doesn't solve crimes. He doesn't fly. He goes into churches, schools, and different places and just..."
"Just, what?"
"Shits."
"Shits?"
"Yeah. He goes there and takes a shit. There's a full page spread of every shit he takes."
"Why did you buy that?" His wife started to walk back into the kitchen, away from him.
"It was in plastic. It was a #1. If I had known it would be this stupid, I wouldn't have bought it."
She stopped and turned back to him. "So what else does he do, besides shit? I mean, there's got to be a story or something." Her intrigue was clear.
He took a sip of his coffee and turned toward her. "Nothing. The whole story shows him taking shits, showing the shits, and leaving."
She moved toward the comic and looked at the cover. She picked it up and opened to the first page.
"It's pretty graphic. That's a big shit. Is it on a child's face?"
"Yeah. That's how it starts off. Gets worse from there?"
"How could it get worse?" She slowly turned to the next page, cringed, and closed the comic. "Urgh, that's disgusting."
"I know." | 2015-02-17T20:11:27 | 2015-02-17T19:52:09 | 982 | 440 |
[WP] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero. This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible. | BBC NEWS:
After recent violence spread throughtout the middle east and into some western countries, all copies of 'Mohammed the Coon' have been removed from newsagents and comic book stored everywhere. The comic, about a crime solving muslim raccoon was deemed to be severely offensive to the muslim faith and his cry of 'THE COON SAVES HIS BACON AGAIN!' every time a case is sucessfully solved was also unacceptable. The issue where he acidentally gets drunk and eats 4 Kilos of pork scratchings was too far as well.
Im off to work, before this gets any worse...will return and correct the spelling. | "What exactly am I looking at, Eric?" Steve wasn't really getting my most recent pitch; After the failed pitch of a hatchet wielding superhero who actually kills his foes he hasn't been on my level.
"Well, its like Darkseid meets Islam see, an-"
"Woah, woah, woah. We can't run this. Eric, we can't alienate readers." I hate when Steve does this; shooting down controversy. Now he is doing that thing where he fiddles with his pen like a fourth grader who is in trouble.
"We could make him an Israeli." I offer up to Steve tentatively, as he stares at the white *Bic* embossing.
"That is the exact opposite of what we would want to do. No religions, it's too hard to do." he looks up " Did you not hear about the shooting in France over almost this exact thing?"
"Yes, Steve, I did. We need to try to be more edgy though. No more of this *I'm a hero, I don't kill, Blah Blah Blah* Bull shit!" I lower my voice to a reasonable level as people passing the meeting room stare in. "Why not comment on something powerful? Oh! We could do a Hero who publicly executes corrupt officials!" I let out a squee of what I can only consider dissentive joy.
"Eric. I think I know what we can do. It will seem uncontroversial for a while, but the commentary will start." he stares at his pen again, good lord he needs to learn to make eye contact. "We will make a story where Batman hangs up his cape, and invests in schooling, public housing, and so on; to reduce crime in Gotham."
"Steve" I look at his face, feeling like the Lord Henry to his Dorian Grey "We should make this happen. Now." If I am quitting to go to Marvel, I might as well leave on my best stride. | 2015-02-17T20:54:34 | 2015-02-17T20:53:20 | 95 | 13 |
[WP] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero. This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible. | 'Did you hear that DC Comics filed for bankruptcy? This just months after they introduced Captain Deadbeat! It's crazy! All because of one new character!'
Oh wow, why? Who is Captain Deadbeat?
'It's a superhero that kills all the most unproductive members of our society, losers, manchilds, deadbeats, people the square community won't give a shit about, people who don't mentally grow up and who waste their and everyone's time rather than do something with their life.'
Wait, but that sound cool! What was the problem?
'Well, making superhero go after their core audience turned out to be bad idea!' | "What exactly am I looking at, Eric?" Steve wasn't really getting my most recent pitch; After the failed pitch of a hatchet wielding superhero who actually kills his foes he hasn't been on my level.
"Well, its like Darkseid meets Islam see, an-"
"Woah, woah, woah. We can't run this. Eric, we can't alienate readers." I hate when Steve does this; shooting down controversy. Now he is doing that thing where he fiddles with his pen like a fourth grader who is in trouble.
"We could make him an Israeli." I offer up to Steve tentatively, as he stares at the white *Bic* embossing.
"That is the exact opposite of what we would want to do. No religions, it's too hard to do." he looks up " Did you not hear about the shooting in France over almost this exact thing?"
"Yes, Steve, I did. We need to try to be more edgy though. No more of this *I'm a hero, I don't kill, Blah Blah Blah* Bull shit!" I lower my voice to a reasonable level as people passing the meeting room stare in. "Why not comment on something powerful? Oh! We could do a Hero who publicly executes corrupt officials!" I let out a squee of what I can only consider dissentive joy.
"Eric. I think I know what we can do. It will seem uncontroversial for a while, but the commentary will start." he stares at his pen again, good lord he needs to learn to make eye contact. "We will make a story where Batman hangs up his cape, and invests in schooling, public housing, and so on; to reduce crime in Gotham."
"Steve" I look at his face, feeling like the Lord Henry to his Dorian Grey "We should make this happen. Now." If I am quitting to go to Marvel, I might as well leave on my best stride. | 2015-02-17T22:47:55 | 2015-02-17T20:53:20 | 55 | 13 |
[WP] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero. This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible. | Jim buried his face in his hands after a single glance at the newest character the creative team had submitted for approval. Surly this was a prank because no sane person would believe that a hero named "The Aryan Avenger" would ever get approved. Worse still was his powers, super strength and speed fighting anyone who didn't have white skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. The cherry on top was what seemed to be a last minute addition written at the bottom of the page, a toxic chemical breath only usable against people of with Jewish ancestors. Jim took one last look at the page before promptly placing it in his shredder. He'd have to burn the remains when he got home just to be sure that no one else would ever see the Aryan Avenger. | "What exactly am I looking at, Eric?" Steve wasn't really getting my most recent pitch; After the failed pitch of a hatchet wielding superhero who actually kills his foes he hasn't been on my level.
"Well, its like Darkseid meets Islam see, an-"
"Woah, woah, woah. We can't run this. Eric, we can't alienate readers." I hate when Steve does this; shooting down controversy. Now he is doing that thing where he fiddles with his pen like a fourth grader who is in trouble.
"We could make him an Israeli." I offer up to Steve tentatively, as he stares at the white *Bic* embossing.
"That is the exact opposite of what we would want to do. No religions, it's too hard to do." he looks up " Did you not hear about the shooting in France over almost this exact thing?"
"Yes, Steve, I did. We need to try to be more edgy though. No more of this *I'm a hero, I don't kill, Blah Blah Blah* Bull shit!" I lower my voice to a reasonable level as people passing the meeting room stare in. "Why not comment on something powerful? Oh! We could do a Hero who publicly executes corrupt officials!" I let out a squee of what I can only consider dissentive joy.
"Eric. I think I know what we can do. It will seem uncontroversial for a while, but the commentary will start." he stares at his pen again, good lord he needs to learn to make eye contact. "We will make a story where Batman hangs up his cape, and invests in schooling, public housing, and so on; to reduce crime in Gotham."
"Steve" I look at his face, feeling like the Lord Henry to his Dorian Grey "We should make this happen. Now." If I am quitting to go to Marvel, I might as well leave on my best stride. | 2015-02-17T22:52:41 | 2015-02-17T20:53:20 | 20 | 13 |
[WP] A wizard accidentally becomes immortal. He has the idea to become the antagonist so that a hero will come along and defeat him, so he can rest in peace. Sadly, the heroes are weak in comparison so the wizard creates a persona as a 'wise teacher' to train these heroes in order to defeat him. | In a lonely corner tower room of a lonely castle, an old man sat in a decrepit throne. A fire blazed in the fireplace before him. A wooden door behind him creaked open, and in stepped a dwarf sized goblin.
"Master Locke, the next Thomas brother has reached the infernal steps."
The old wizard nodded, illuminated by a crackling fireplace. The goblin servant looked thoughtful, and added: "Perhaps you should consider letting that girl from the other day try to kill you. She seemed robust, Master."
The old man grabbed a staff resting against his throne, and used it to prop himself up. "Women are too vindictive, old friend of mine tangled with one, and the girl locked him in a coffin until he starved. A young boy is happy to just chop your head off." Then he snapped his fingers and disappeared.
---
Just before Peter could knock on the wooden doors of the Castle, the doors swung open, by magic. Peter quickly fell to his knees, but said sternly, "I am Peter Thomas, brother of Adrian, slew by your own brother War-"
"Get used to me interrupting, but I've heard this before. Brothers tend to speak alike." Boomed an inhumanly loud voice.
Peter could barely make out what seemed to be a cloaked figure standing with the darkness in the distance.
"I need to avenge my brother." Peter said.
"And is he your only brother? You have younger ones yet, where are they?"
"They are younger, and must wait-.
"Their turn?" interjected the cloaked wizard, allowing a shiny smile to appear in the shadow of his hood. "But you heroes, you seek to close yourselves off from the rest. Instead of trying to be like the people you wish to save, you wish to become like the people you wish to destroy. So you come to me to learn how to stop my brother."
The boy was silent, kept his head bowed, while he kneeled. The cloaked man appeared annoyed at this, and stalked forward, and lifted him up to standing by his scruff. "At least your brother didn't kneel before shadows!"
I need but my whip, and-
"A whip?" The old man cackled. "A sidekick's weapon. If you want to be the hero, sword seems to be the universal choice. But no matter, I'll take you in."
---
The wizard sighed, and willed his pawn forward.
"Do you know why you lost?"
"Why?"
"Because you chose to play the game. That is not your objective."
'What is?"
Like a flash, the old wizard delivered a rap to the student's skull, sending him reeling in pain.
"The objective is to beat me. And you move pieces in patterns anyone can predict. When you enter my brother's fortress, will you walk into his traps because "those are the rules?"
| Once there was a powerful creature, which few had ever seen and lived to tell about.
Its name was Zulsamon, the Nefarious. It had destroyed all of the world’s kingdoms, with the exception of one, the kingdom of Alda.
Now, Zulsamon’s siege against the Kingdom of Alda had started while many of its elders were still only young children. Somehow, for the last eighty years, it was still surviving history's longest siege! This was attributed primarily to the mysterious gifts of food, water, and other necessities which would appear occasionally in the Great Square overnight. And so, with just enough materials to get by, the Kingdom of Alda had sent Army after Army to slay Nefarious. They were terribly unsuccessful! When the armies were dwindled down, they sent out battalions of their greatest warriors. When those were reduce, they resorted to elite combat teams. They suffered the same fate.
Now with few resources left, they could only chance sending out lone heroes, assassins. And then those too, were gone.
The great old king Pablo Manzolus was at his wits end. If he didn’t come up with a plan soon, those few civilians left inside the walls of his kingdom would be forced to fight! Nearly all the able men were dead, with just women, children, elderly, royalty, and the feeble remaining. He had no choice though. One evening, he disguised himself as an old peasant and slipped out of the castle.
Manzolus looked out at the black flames which had been encircling his kingdom for generations. He sighed as he walked down a dank dark alley. He could hear people yelling, laughing, crying and screaming from the various apartments. He found a secluded spot, and sat down on the ground, resting his back against a cobblestone wall. The sun had set, and only the gas lamps were providing light.
He had sat there for a while, his eyes closed, taking in the sounds of the peoples of his kingdom… of the world’s last kingdom… when he heard a pitter patter.
It grew closer. King Manzolus opened his eyes at just the moment that a child tripped over his outstretched legs! They both yelped in surprise as the child came barreling down into the ground! As the child tried to stand back up, a man appeared around a corner carrying a scythe. The king stood up and faced the wild looking man, while the child scrabbled upon his hands and knees to hide behind a nearby dumpster. The wild man with the wicked scythe looked the king over and said, “I durn’t know where the lad has gone off to, but you’ll hafta do! Don’t worry vagrant, ain’t nobody’ll miss ya!”
And with that, the man charged after the king, with his scythe slung to the side ready to strike!
But the king did nothing. He simply stood there, waiting. Everything was going according to plan.
The lad rushed out from behind the dumpster just as the man was swinging the blade towards the king. Without missing a beat, the little child plucked a loose cobblestone from the wall and flung it at the mad man! The stone hit the man in the head with such a force that he went tumbling over backwards. Then before the man could come back to his senses, the child grabbed the scythe from the man’s clutches and quickly went to work cutting off his hands. “There,” he said, “Your life is spared, and you won’t be taking anyone else’s either!”
The disguised king smiled and patted the boy on the back. “My good lad! What is your name!?”
The child, looking ashamed, took a knee and bowed.
“My name is David Arktos… your Majesty.”
“Yes, I know. You were the son of my greatest general, Jiexi the Pendragon! Now, come with me lad, I’ve a favor to repay to your father...”
| 2015-07-25T06:29:26 | 2015-07-25T05:08:26 | 28 | 15 |
[WP]Aliens come to Earth in hoping to wipe us out and take over the planet, but are honorable and gives us a fighting chance. They announce they will return in 100 years so as to give Earth a chance to prepare and defend itself. Neither side expected what the other would bring to war | Tick, tock.
Earths space fleet was ready. Well, the most ready they ever could be.
Decades of research had been poured in these top-of-the-line fighter craft. Ground-breaking achievements were made on every front. A never before seen united human spirit was born, and every country participated the best they could, the most they could.
In fact, countries were rarily named anymore. It was Earth. Not China, not the US, not Europe, but Earth.
Mankind had scrambled together 160 modern spaceships, 1405 satellite weapon systems, 2300 small spacecraft (basically guided scraps of metal with penetrating explosives) and a moon laser base. On the ground, hundreds of thousands of re-fitted space missiles pointed in every direction, connected to several computer networks to fire at one's command. Millions of camera drones were spread around for the inhabitants of Earth.
It obviously was not enough.
The last time they came, He had a fleet numbering in the tens of thousands. Earth managed to bring down two robot craft, and that was because of friendly fire on aliens behalf.
But the men would not go down without a fight.
He had the decency to come at the agreed place to fight, at the agreed time. A portal opened and thousands of black ships poured out. A large mothership lay in the middle of this monstrous battlegroup.
His voice boomed, and despite the vacuum of space, the space marine heard every word clearly. the alien leader captain Ea spoke to them. For the alien, this was purely for profit. Earth seemed to be valuable, he had said a hundred years ago, but he had not specified in what way. His army was entirely robotic. He controlled it and had defeated the defenseless Earth inhabitants. But he had the honour of a fair adversary. He had given mankind 100 years to 'impress' him.
It was on.
The last time, mankind could not land a single blow to them. This was different ...
Somewhat.
They traded unequally, losing five ships for one robot ship. But they could fight back. They were no longer the ants hundred years ago, but a small swarm of fiery raccoons fighting for their turf.
The human fleet slowly shattered, and the robot fleet reached Earth and started to face the satellites and the secondary reserve fleet, which was a ragtag of unfinished ships and defunct weapon systems.
Then, the command was given to launch the rockets. Future historians agreed their effective combat potential was negligible, but on that day, everyone could see space lit up with the soundless explosions, the growl of mankind. The battle raged on fiercely for hours.
It ended. Space debris floated everywhere, from both sides.
Ea's voice boomed again, this time in a different tone. "Well ... That was impressive indeed. You have honoured me with a challenge, and I deem your race worthy. "
"This galaxy is a dangerous one. A never before seen threat is spreading over the galaxy. In time, both of us will be affected by it. Perhaps in the future, we can be of assistance to one another. Until then, fare well."
The robot fleet then retreated through a portal and disappeared. In its wake were floating hulls, technology ripe for the taking for mankind.
---
EDITED: advice taken from comments | It's been a hundred years already, time just flies my grandpa said when you're preparing for intergalactic war. When I was little he told me that war never changes, but for some reason today he said it finally has.
All the years of the nations fighting ended in the blink of an eye; a mere 80 years before I was born. Canada, USA, Russia, Europe, even China had started to work together overnight for today. The day we fight for earth.
In case you're reading this and all of the books on our history have been destroyed by war and this message managed to survive the tortures of space, we're humans. Or at least we where before we had to say goodbye. Back before I was born and when my grandpa was growing up they came. The aliens. The leaders at the time managed to negotiate an agreement with them to give us one hundred years to prepare.
They knew we'd never be ready and they'd win, as did we; or so we thought. Today was the day, January 1'st 2016. The day we'd wage war for our planet, our universe. For everything, for we would refuse to go down without fighting. We were going down with our dignity!
It was only the crack of dawn when our TV turned on and started to blast the emergency alert system, as did our radio. The governments of the world worked together to jam all communications with this message, it only lasted thirty seconds but easily felt like an hour; the representatives of Earth that our past generations voted came on and started to speak. All the languages of the developed world, even sign language translators for the deaf.
"Today, we as human kind will fight against the invaders that came here one hundred years ago. We might die. We might loose everything. But we wont loose our dignity. I want everyone to head outside once this broadcast finishes. We've set up a dead man's switch, a sort of fail safe mechanism to ensure no other living creatures in our galaxy, our home, the Milky Way will have to suffer. We call it the Gravity Box. I won't disclose what it will do despite this signal being encrypted. All I will say is if we don't make it out of this, god bless you all. I hope we can all meet each other again some day." His final words, "Transmission Over" as the signal went dead.
As I walked outside I could see them coming, the clouds splitting, a giant ship appearing. The airstrike sirens where going off but I could hear them over the sirens, "Are you prepared to die?" they said. From a loud booming speaker all that could be heard from all directions was the spokesperson speaking out. "We may die today at your hands, but we won't die without our dignity".
Suddenly I saw a port on the ship open, a bright light coming out of it setting everything it touched on fire destroying it instantly. You could hear see and hear the rockets as they where fired at the ship, they didn't even scratch the outside. The mass killing of all life on Earth was clearly not going to stop, in the air sounds of rockets exploding from being hit, when the spokesperson spoke again.
"Have it your way, we're bringing the Gravity Box online." and it just cut out as a beam of light struck down far away.
You could feel it. Gravity just disappeared, then reappeared; at least I thought that was what was happening. You could see the blast of light as it was coming. A massive shock wave as the ship came down to earth and began to vaporize. I had heard conspiracies that we'd stop these aliens with a Anti Matter weapon but this surely couldn't be it. It wasn't
--
Grandson: What happened grandpa?
Grandpa: Well, that was all that we could recover.
Grandson: What do you mean?
Grandpa: The scientests only recovered that of the signal from the Milky Way.
Grandson: What's the Milky Way?
Grandpa: It's a now long gone Galaxy, nothing remains. No Matter, no Anti Matter. We don't what happened but we know they gave up their humanity to save all of us.
Grandson: Who are they?
Grandpa: The humans. A mysterious race of creatures that once inhabited the giant blue pearl. This and a golden record on a probe named "Voyager" they sent our direction is all that remains of them. They gave it all up, for us.
Grandson: But why?
Grandpa: Apparently it's just how they lived when they where still alive.
| 2016-01-01T15:57:37 | 2016-01-01T13:58:25 | 239 | 24 |
[WP]Aliens come to Earth in hoping to wipe us out and take over the planet, but are honorable and gives us a fighting chance. They announce they will return in 100 years so as to give Earth a chance to prepare and defend itself. Neither side expected what the other would bring to war | It's been 100 years, we are ready. The human race was challenged to a fight with an alien race and given 100 years to prepare. They proved to us we weren't ready back then. Half of our missiles exploded in their silos. Of those that launched, less than 1 in 100 hit something. That something didn't even get scratched.
The aliens spoke to everyone, all over the world, in whatever the local dialect was. We had 100 years to get better at defending ourselves. They would be back and they would take over then.
Every government suddenly had something in common with every other government. Patent offices were raided. Research centers were given nearly unlimited funds. Even the craziest ideas were dusted off and explored. Technology made leaps and bounds. One hundred years ago, nobody thought that what we discovered was even possible.
We now have Anti-matter Bombs, Ion Cannons, and space ships, lots and lots of space ships. Nearly 80% of able bodied humans - no longer just Americans or just Russians, or even just Arabs, "Humans" - male and female alike have been trained up in using these new weapons and devices. We were as ready as 100 years could make us.
The entire previous week was given over to celebrating our readiness.
Then the day we prepared for dawned. Every weapon was charged and manned. Every missile was prepared to launch. Clocks everywhere counted down to the appointed meeting.
As the final second ticked away, a bright flash appeared at the expected point in local space.
A voice immediately boomed out "HOLD YOUR FIRE ... PLEASE!".
Hands twitched on the firing buttons, fingers pulled back on triggers but left the guns unused. Every hand everywhere stopped. Then the clocks ticked again, and again. Time was continuing but the fight we had prepared for had not started.
"WE COME IN PEACE"
"THIS TIME. WE ARE NOT HERE TO DESTROY YOU!"
"It seems that humans beat us last time and we felt it necessary to let you know."
As before, every human was hearing this in their preferred language.
The voice continued "A virus was transported back to our home world 100 years ago."
"It infected the entire planet, along with all of our colonies and stations before we even knew about it."
"Once the virus made itself known, it was too late. The death toll was in the trillions. One hundred years later we are still cleaning up the dead and recovering the land and buildings where they died. If it weren't for this ship and the half a dozen others that were found still useable, we wouldn't have been able to even show up for this meeting."
A long pause ensued, weapons were lowered, missiles stood down.
The voice began again; "Less than 1 in 100000 of our people survived. Half of them died when the virus made a second attack."
"It has taken us the past 90 years just to get back into space. The only reason that we managed even that much is because of the records of previous advancements."
"This ship will go now, if you wish to finish us off, we will not fight back. We even freely give you our location in the galactic arm."
This was followed by a star map downloaded into our computers with one star highlighted.
Another long pause was finally broken by a human voice; "Is there anything we can do to help?"
| It's been a hundred years already, time just flies my grandpa said when you're preparing for intergalactic war. When I was little he told me that war never changes, but for some reason today he said it finally has.
All the years of the nations fighting ended in the blink of an eye; a mere 80 years before I was born. Canada, USA, Russia, Europe, even China had started to work together overnight for today. The day we fight for earth.
In case you're reading this and all of the books on our history have been destroyed by war and this message managed to survive the tortures of space, we're humans. Or at least we where before we had to say goodbye. Back before I was born and when my grandpa was growing up they came. The aliens. The leaders at the time managed to negotiate an agreement with them to give us one hundred years to prepare.
They knew we'd never be ready and they'd win, as did we; or so we thought. Today was the day, January 1'st 2016. The day we'd wage war for our planet, our universe. For everything, for we would refuse to go down without fighting. We were going down with our dignity!
It was only the crack of dawn when our TV turned on and started to blast the emergency alert system, as did our radio. The governments of the world worked together to jam all communications with this message, it only lasted thirty seconds but easily felt like an hour; the representatives of Earth that our past generations voted came on and started to speak. All the languages of the developed world, even sign language translators for the deaf.
"Today, we as human kind will fight against the invaders that came here one hundred years ago. We might die. We might loose everything. But we wont loose our dignity. I want everyone to head outside once this broadcast finishes. We've set up a dead man's switch, a sort of fail safe mechanism to ensure no other living creatures in our galaxy, our home, the Milky Way will have to suffer. We call it the Gravity Box. I won't disclose what it will do despite this signal being encrypted. All I will say is if we don't make it out of this, god bless you all. I hope we can all meet each other again some day." His final words, "Transmission Over" as the signal went dead.
As I walked outside I could see them coming, the clouds splitting, a giant ship appearing. The airstrike sirens where going off but I could hear them over the sirens, "Are you prepared to die?" they said. From a loud booming speaker all that could be heard from all directions was the spokesperson speaking out. "We may die today at your hands, but we won't die without our dignity".
Suddenly I saw a port on the ship open, a bright light coming out of it setting everything it touched on fire destroying it instantly. You could hear see and hear the rockets as they where fired at the ship, they didn't even scratch the outside. The mass killing of all life on Earth was clearly not going to stop, in the air sounds of rockets exploding from being hit, when the spokesperson spoke again.
"Have it your way, we're bringing the Gravity Box online." and it just cut out as a beam of light struck down far away.
You could feel it. Gravity just disappeared, then reappeared; at least I thought that was what was happening. You could see the blast of light as it was coming. A massive shock wave as the ship came down to earth and began to vaporize. I had heard conspiracies that we'd stop these aliens with a Anti Matter weapon but this surely couldn't be it. It wasn't
--
Grandson: What happened grandpa?
Grandpa: Well, that was all that we could recover.
Grandson: What do you mean?
Grandpa: The scientests only recovered that of the signal from the Milky Way.
Grandson: What's the Milky Way?
Grandpa: It's a now long gone Galaxy, nothing remains. No Matter, no Anti Matter. We don't what happened but we know they gave up their humanity to save all of us.
Grandson: Who are they?
Grandpa: The humans. A mysterious race of creatures that once inhabited the giant blue pearl. This and a golden record on a probe named "Voyager" they sent our direction is all that remains of them. They gave it all up, for us.
Grandson: But why?
Grandpa: Apparently it's just how they lived when they where still alive.
| 2016-01-01T18:48:26 | 2016-01-01T13:58:25 | 122 | 24 |
[WP] After dying, you're shown a "Choose Your Own Adventure" style decision tree which highlights all the paths your life could have taken should you have made various different choices. You spend all of eternity analyzing this tree, only to finally realize that something just isn't quite right. | *Unhandled exception at .event("js.20160328200606#34")*
*-- 0 observations returned from john_smith_082345--*
*-- requested action:*
*_______________*
Scanning this tree you sometimes come upon an error prompt, red text on a black rectangle, right where the event descriptions should be. That's called a bug, and you have to report it. Mostly it's just an I/O error, sometimes a glitch in the graphics and every once in a while, if the event is big enough, a memory allocation problem. You report it and it magically gets fixed in a day or two, then you go on about sorting your life... err project, before the final submission. As long as it doesn't compile, you're stuck in this tiny room, glued to your screen.
This is curious, how does an unhandled exception happen ... I mean, what even went down in production, and why does this prompt have an input field, isn't that a major security breach ? **john_smith_082345**...that must be my name...
Well better get to reporting it... Actually I wanna try something first, maybe I'll get a pat on the back for finding a huge security flaw.
*-- requested action:*
*; create table john_smith_082345 as select * from john_smith_082345 where event !=.event("death");*
Here goes nothing, I bet i'll be setting off some alarms with this and...
Wait ? What happened ? My screen went black... how did the door get opened ?
Oh sh.. | Oh yeah I remember that time with Zack, holy shit I guess if I would have jumped the fence instead of hid the cops wouldn't have found us, eh it was worth it though considering I got to fuck Jessica at that party Haha...
Oh and here's that time I took my moms car for a joyride with...What the fuck...Wha...No wait a second...this timeline doesn't make any sense...Their was no car crash...Me and Tom drove around the block and hit up a McDonald's and went home...Their...This is wrong...Because after that their's nothing, the line just stops and I know for a fact I did not fucking die then...I went to college and got married and...and...Wha...Why can't I remember anything else...What's going on...
Alright let me just...calm the hell down...Alright...So I was with...No...No what is this...what was her name WHAT THE FUCK WAS HER NAME...WHY THE FUCK CANT I REMEMBER MY WIFES NAME NOW...oh god...no...My memories are fading...I can't remember my wife...or college...or...my friends...Is this ending...I...I Don't wanna go...I'm scared...I'm not ready...
"Hello Stephen"
Wha...Who are you...Are...Are you God?
"Not at all, I'm your conscious"
My...Conscious? So I'm talking to myself?
"No not necessarily, When you died we became separate beings"
Oh so this is new to you too?
"Well...No Stephen...See you've been dead for a long time now, but I decided to let you experience a simulation of life as you did not get the fair chance to"
What? No no your a fucking liar I had a life I was...I...I was alive...This is all bullshit...No...wait...I get it, your Satan and I'm in hell right now...Yeah yeah and you're trying to trick me, well guess what it's not gonna fucking work because I know I was alive and you can't do anything to mess with my mind
"Stephen I understand you're in shock and denial right now...And I'll let you believe as you wish...But now that the simulation is over and you've had your time...Well you need to go now"
Go? Go where?
"You've experienced everything you needed to in life...Its time for this to be over"
Over? The fuck do you mean over you bastard!?
"Goodbye Stephen, I hope you can appreciate what I did for you"
noNoNO YOU STAY HERE YOU BITCH IM NOT READY FOR THIS TO END YOU COME THE FUCK BA-
(P.S. This is my first story ever so I know it's absolute shit, sorry just felt like trying it out :P) | 2016-03-26T10:46:49 | 2016-03-26T10:45:51 | 49 | 32 |
[WP] You are just about to lock up your childhood home after clearing out your recently deceased parent's things. You decide on one last walk through and realize there is a door you never opened. | I had not been sad like this in a long time.
With my son by my side I cast a final glance towards the empty living room. I held back tears for the umpteenth time.
Their laughs would never fill these walls again. That way my mum would burst into fits after a bit of good wine. It was all too soon.
-Dad we should go, mum’s waiting for us.
He was right.
I slowly made my way down a set of stairs which gave onto the garage. I remembered having put holes in this wall as a kid. My sister and I would drive my parents crazy. A smile formed on my lips. She had been so angry. My dad almost appeared impressed at the time. He probably was.
We entered the garage and I scanned the area one last time before closing up.
This used to be my place in the house.
So many experiments and various projects. I remember wrenching on my kart for hours on end. The black spot from the “accidental” fire still marked the ground.
I loved this house.
As the garage door was closing my eyes set on the furnace room door.
-Liam one second, I need to check something.
I lifted the door back up and wandered towards the rear. I had never actually been in the furnace room. My mom wouldn’t have it. When we were younger she told us it was dangerous, too many electronics and gizmos. As I got older, I never paid attention to it. I can’t remember having ever seen the inside.
As I opened the door for the first time my mother’s familiar scent drifted towards me. I flipped the light switch on.
It looked like a little workshop. Crafting supplies and wrapping paper littered the workspace. This is where she had made all our cards and wrapped our gifts. I choked up again, seeing her tools arranged across the desk.
On the side table I spotted a singular package. It was prepared with care and precision, worthy of a magazine.
I found my name on a tag, her handwriting always neat and correct. The accident had happened the day before my birthday.
-Are you going to open it?
-She would want me to.
I slowly opened the package, finding a card.
The card was in my dad’s writing. He always had a knack with words.
After reading the message I looked towards my son, a tear running down my cheek.
One day he would understand.
He hugged me as I cried for the first time since he was born. | I couldn't never imagine having to lock this place for the last time... So many memories with friends and family. Your whole childhood inside those walls. The emotions I feel are heavy at this moment. My beloved parents gone and my first house empty and cold. I still can't handle the fact I lost both of them at the same time. The died 3 minutes apart from each other at the hospital, and never knew each other was gone. I still can't understand how can this happen. The place I was born and raised will be just another abandoned house.
I remember everything: the walls, the rooms, my room, the dinning table and the lovely garden. I know this house like the back of my hand. As I exit the living room and enter the mainhole I see this door that had forgot about. The door that was always locked. My parents were always angry when I was trying to open it out of curiosity. I still remember them dragging me away from it, while mumbling strange sentenses. I didn't feel strange then, but it definitely feel now. When I was ten they put a very big wooden piece of furniture infront of it. As I aged I started to forget about it, since other things were occupying my mind.
Now the door was visible, since everything was removed from the house and my curiosity started to rise. I am a bit sceptical for the reason I was kept away from it. As I go close I notice a sign on the door. It reads:
"Under the last request of the owners of this house, this door must remain closed and locked"
I felt a chill on my spin... My parents actually still cared for this door, even at their last moments. My heart starts to bit faster and faster and mind feels with theories and thoughts. I take a fast decision and with a strong pull, I pop the handle of the old door, leaving it ready to be opened. I open it slowly, and to my surprise all I see is a brick wall. I never knew my parents to be have this kind of humor, and I don't expect them to begin now. I pick a sledgehammer that was left in the basement and procceed to destroy the wall. My arms gets sweaty as I enter the room. No lights and no windows. I use one of my matches to light my way. As I reach near the wall I notice a table. I lay down with my match to try to inspect what is on it. Newspapers and some old pictures. My match burns out. And in the dark I reach to find another one. I pick up a newspaper and try to read it without burning it:
'A sad day for the city of Athens: Tragic accident with only victim the onlyborn child', reads the headline.
That is a weird newspaper to keep on your stash... There is no bigger tragedy than a lost young boy. My curiosity persists as to why they had to keep this. I open to the next page. My throat is soar. I think my heart will pop out of my chest. My head starts to spin and my stomach turns upside down. The picture of the poor boy reveals it was me. Is this fake? How can this be real anyway? Under that picture, a picture of my parents crying on the street. What is happening??? I throw the paper down and keep looking on the table only to find more shocking items: Pictures of my parents during my funeral. I go outside and grab a flashlight to light the room and see better. My eyes tear up and I throw up when I noticed it: a tiny coffin under the table, big enough for a 5 year old boy. I am crawling on the floor crying and scared. What does this all mean? | 2016-06-05T18:18:23 | 2016-06-05T18:04:52 | 39 | 10 |
[WP] It is modern day America, but everyone speaks in Shakespearean English. You are a gamer raging out during an online multiplayer match. | "Select your hero," the voice summoned, upon this motley band of adventurers gold.
Faces flashed upon the screen; content was I, with all but one, if truth be told.
"Hanzo, wouldst thou switch to Soldier, pray tell, that victory might be more easily ours?"
"Infect thyself, thou low-apt swine," responds the bowman; the air quickly sours.
Voices erupt from all around, amongst nary a fond word for Hanzo might be found.
For naught, our efforts, in the end: for arrows, not bullets, this man resolved to send.
The gates were opened, we six did go, descending upon the quiet King's Row.
His arrows struck true, first one, then two; a field of blood the archer did sow.
He found his marks, but relent, we could not. "Change to Soldier, foul demon, or in our graves we will rot!"
"Ha!" Defied he, as one by one our foes fell. "Rot we will, then, and thou shalt see me in hell!"
The slaughter drove on. Endless, eternal, as any man sees. Yet our enemies fell, taking arrows to knees.
*Victory!* came the final voice. Wreathed in gold medals, only Hanzo rejoiced.
"Above and beyond, to platinum I go," declared the archer.
"Trust in thy team, or stay confined to gold and below." | "Blast! Lag hath once more claimed my life!" I bellowed, my voice a cacophony of emotions swirling in the maelstrom of self pity.
"But thine ping is but three-and-twenty milliseconds!" Came a call through my headphones. An obvious lie to my ears. These fools knew not the struggles of lag spikes which had tormented me so, at times most inopportune.
"The lag is indeed a culprit!" I retorted. Surely these imbeciles would never understand my suffering, my anguish at the tendrils of this digital demon.
"Perhaps thou should uninstall thine game." Came another verbal blow through my headset.
My blood was boiling. Never in all my time playing World of Battle: Call of Field: Modern CraftWar had I ever endured such an affront to my online honor.
These plebs. These...filthy plebs would know defeat by my hands this day.
"Steel thyself! For I shall mark your name as my nemesis, and thou shalt know fear and shame 'fore thine end!" I cackled with glee and newfound adrenaline fueled in part by my favorite citrus soft drink.
My righteous anger flew forth in a flurry of left clicks. One, two, three, four fell by my hand. A hurricane of death surrounded me with myself nestled safely in it's eye. All who opposed me fell...except one. For a split second, all seemed as it should be. However then, with a mounting horror building, the screen just froze. Trapped in time. I checked my ping. More than thirty-five over four hundred. The digital demon had seen fit to once again torment me.
Then, the demon released me from it's vile clutches after several excruciating seconds. The screen showed the movement of life once more. And there I lay, with blood pooling around me as a crimson shade enveloped my screen.
"Ha! Thine fury is ill-equipped for one such as me! Tell me, oh Lagging one, what is thine excuse this time? I see it is only but seven-and-twenty." His voice was a deafening shriek of cynical glee.
"Place your belief in me once more, I say! Lag is again my enemy! For if thou could have witnessed my pain, thine voice would not be of such an edge!" I stammered back, defeated. Adding "You shall see! My voice rings with truth!"
My ears were filled with laughter from the crowd. A mocking of me. Of my skill. My anger had reached it's crescendo! But before my lips could sound a cry of complaint, the message I dreaded flashed across my screen...
"Thine connection hath timed out"
Vindicated. | 2017-01-09T18:05:29 | 2017-01-09T18:00:36 | 364 | 43 |
[WP] Karma is a real currency monitored by the government. It can only be earned through "good deeds" like volunteering and can only be spent on "bad deeds" in court to excuse a conviction. It can never be traded, bought, sold, invested, loaned, etc.
I don't want the prompt to be too constraining and I feel like it may be. I am hoping the creativity comes from different countries, corruption, specific cases, etc. Regardless the "laws" in the title are mostly guidelines, so please tweak them as you need to fit your story! | Take it easy on me, I'm not a strong writer and I'm mobile.
The government’s addition of karma farming has been around my whole life. However there is a restriction in place that if you are under 10 years old, your karma doesn’t count. Well the joke is on them. I turned 10 almost a year ago and I’ve been doing everything I can to get my karma points higher. For adults it is easy, they have money they can spend to help other people out. They are tall and can reach high places for short people. What can a 10 year old do? I’ll tell you what my tricks are, when the trash needs to be taken out I'm the one that hurries and does it before my mom tells me to. I'll tell the girls in my class that they are pretty today (even if they actually aren't). I found out that telling my mom that I love her adds quite a bit each time. I even laugh at Uncle Steve's lame jokes because I know it makes him feel better. Although my next door neighbor smells like a mixture of old people and baby powder, I rush out to help her unload her groceries every time I see that Oldsmobile returning from the store. I had my mom check my karma in the government's database and I knew exactly how much I needed to complete my task. She was heading outside to the garden and I asked if I could use the computer before dinner. With a little pat on the head and the soft yes I was expecting, I rushed upstairs almost forgetting to throw a “Thanks, I love you” back down at her. Months of planning finally coming into place. I'm going to do it, I'm really going to do it. I'm going to get on DisneyChannel.com without my mom's permission. | Rodney Capitalism patted the old lady on her back.
"Have a great day, ma'am!" said Rodney, waving.
"You too, dear," said the old lady.
She hobbled down the sidewalk, her walker clanking loudly on the pavement.
Rodney pulled out his phone and opened KarmaTracker. 1,000,000 Karma. He put his phone in his pocket. His blank expression turned to a smirk. He began walking, slowly at first but quickly as he reached the end of the block, towards Jerome Notrich's subdivision, and, as he gained speed, he let out a holler and did a quick skip.
It took perhaps ten minutes to run to Jerome's subdivision. Rodney was winded, but kept up his pace. He rounded a corner and stopped to catch his breath.
Before him was Jerome's house. Rodney reached into his waistband and removed a Glock. He walked up to the front door and knocked. After several seconds, it opened, and Jerome said:
"Hey, what's up, buddy?"
"Oh, nothing much. You ready?"
"You bet. You mind if I have one last drink? I wasn't expecting you until tonight."
"Sure, bro. Maybe I should've texted ahead. Honestly didn't expect to get enough Karma before noon."
"Yeah, me either."
Jerome motioned for Rodney to enter. He stepped in and looked around. Jerome walked to his kitchen with Rodney following. There was a single glencairn glass on the counter. Jerome went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Buffalo Trace from the top. He popped it opened and poured into the glass. Rodney leaned against the wall, staring at his gun. The bottle clacked against the counter as Jerome set it down. He took a sip from his glass. He sighed.
"Okay," said Jerome. "I'm ready."
"All right, cool, bro."
Rodney aimed his gun at Jerome's head and fired. Blood spattered against the cabinetry. His corpse hit the tiled floor.
_
Rodney sat in court. He stared at his feet. The judge opened an envelope. She said:
"The jury has reached a verdict of guilty. Mr Capitalism, would you like to spend your Karma or serve your time?"
"Spend my Karma."
He leaned back in his seat and rested his arm in the table.
"Congratulations, Mr Capitalism. You're a free man."
Rodney Capitalism smirked.
_
Several weeks later, Rodney walked out to his mailbox. He opened it and grabbed a single envelope from inside. It was from Wall Street Life Insurance Services. Rodney ripped it opened and removed a letter and a check. He threw the envelope on the ground and scanned the letter. It said Rodney was to be paid $1,000,000 due Jerome's death. Rodney smiled. He dropped the letter on the ground and looked at his check. | 2017-03-15T16:58:35 | 2017-03-15T11:56:40 | 47 | 23 |
[WP] Our universe is in fact a simulation - it was a school project in God School. However, it was the one the got an A+ (top notch). Now tell me a story about living in a universe that got graded D- (barely above fail) | All the gods-in-training crowded around Aeron’s universe which floated above his desk in a constant spiral. Some whispered that his universe looked like it had been created by a full-fledged god. Others even dared to say that his was the best they’d ever seen. Even the teachers had stepped forward, standing on their tiptoes to catch a glimpse of his spiraling expanse of black.
Braxis didn’t understand the appeal. He, like all the other gods, had taken a glimpse at Aeron’s world and as far as he was concerned, it was just a bunch of rocks floating together in giant clumps. Occasionally, if one were to truly look for life, one could find it in the smallest crevices within the pebbles placed there. Though it was so sparse, most couldn’t help but wonder if they were placed purposefully or if his universe had just gotten invaded by microbes.
Hell, someone could’ve grabbed a bunch of dust, tossed it in the air, and gave the whole thing a small twirl to mimic that exact thing. Braxis suspected that’s exactly what Aeron did.
“A+,” the teacher exclaimed and handed a beaming Aeron his grade.
Braxis rolled his eyes. That bastard was good at one thing—Godball—and suddenly he became this God amongst gods. She-gods laughed at his shitty jokes. Teachers gave him high-fives in the hallways. This smug asshole could have probably take a shit on a plate and presented it as his final project.
None of these guys understood true godding. Universes weren’t meant to be just a random smattering of whatever a god found in his backyard at the time. They were meant to be intricately designed and perfectly fit together in such a way that all life within it couldn’t help but realize the existence of the divine. How could anybody be certain of divinity within Aeron’s universe of entropy and emptiness?
“Braxis,” the teacher said, approaching his desk.
Braxis smiled. While to most these kids, they created universes purely to pass this class, but not Braxis. Even as a child, he had dreamed of creating the perfect universe, one where nothing existed without purpose, where everything was a reflection of an ultimate design. He had not thrown a bunch of dust in the air and called it a universe, no, he stayed up nights, scoured the realm for just the right materials, and at last, created his masterpiece.
His universe floated from his desk and opened up in flashes of silver and gold. There wasn’t a single thing that existed in a vacuum. Every part connected to every other. In a sense, his universe was a being in itself, nearly conscious of its creator.
The teacher stared, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. He nodded at Braxis. “Very good job.”
A smile spread across Braxis’ face. This was the moment he was waiting for, when he would finally prove his talent.
“A.” The teacher handed him his grade and moved onto the next desk.
For a second, Braxis didn’t breathe. He merely stood there, staring at the piece of paper with his grade on it.
“You’re telling me I did worse than Aeron?” Braxis blurted. All eyes turned to him. He knew he should shut up, that he was way out of line, but he couldn’t help himself. “Worse than *that* asshole’s universe?”
The teacher turned around and glared back. “Excuse me? Are you questioning my judgement?”
“You gave me an A when you gave a bunch of floating rocks in the air an A+! What the hell?”
“Hey,” Aeron said. “This is more than just floating rocks. My universe has fire too.”
“Fire?” Braxis screamed. “Your universe has fire? What are you going to tell me next? That the beings inside your universe are developed enough to walk and breathe at the same time? My beings are creating universes within my universe!”
“Braxis,” the teacher snarled. “Control yourself.”
“Or what? You’re going to give Aeron an A++?”
The teacher folded his arms in front of him and stepped up to Braxis. “No, I’ll give you a D.”
Braxis’s face flushed red. He stared at the teacher, his fists clenched at his side, but he knew better than to push his luck. After all, he was no idiot. The teacher gave him a small nod and turned to continue grading.
“Smug bastard,” Braxis said, like an idiot.
“D-,” the teacher said. “One more word from you and you fail my class. Go study Aeron’s universe and learn a thing or two about intelligent design.”
Braxis clamped his mouth shut. He had a flood of words swelling up his throat, none of which would help him pass his class. So he kept quiet as class resumed.
A wave of muttering and whispering followed after. At first, Braxis thought they were whispering about him, but when he turned toward the class, he saw them hunched over Aeron’s world once again. They giggled and stared, fixated on a single thing.
Braxis joined the circle. If the teacher truly wanted him to study Aeron’s universe, then Braxis would learn all he could from it. Throughout the mutterings of the other gods, a single word kept coming up, an unpredicted development within Aeron’s world—the hallmark of his intelligent design.
Braxis looked around at the other gods. “What the hell is a meme?”
---
---
/r/jraywang for 5+ stories weekly and ~200 stories already written!
| A good world requires balance. This our God failed to realize. And for that we paid a hefty price.
We awoke in fields of sprawling acres and towering pillars. Mansions stuffed with luxurious furniture and decadent food sprang up in rows around us. "My gift to you," He had said, in his glorious voice. It rumbled like thunder and touched our hearts. And He lived with us, in the greatest house of all, at the top of a mountain framed in cherry blossoms. His house was a constant party open to all, and even the trees would uproot themselves to shuffle across the land and mingle in the atmosphere.
But as time grew on, we grew tired, and we found problems in this perfect world. Problems in that there were no problems. No challenges for us to overcome. If we were hungry, food would appear on our table. We could never be injured, and the concept of death was foreign to us- if you wanted to save time, you'd leap from the third floor balcony. Much faster than stairs. Gradually, the party-goers dwindled, and society moved away from our God to settle the untamed lands before us. We built villages from earth and stone and subsided on nuts, fruits, and vegetables, which the plants happily shared.
The concept of death was so foreign to us that when Paul failed to get up from his bed that day, we believed him to be sleeping. But something was not quite right. He was so cold, and lacked the gentle rise and fall of our chests we all share. When we took an ear to his heart, we heard silence, not the rhythmic thumping of our own. Paul was the first human to die. But he would not be the last.
It was chaos that week when I left my stone abode. Many felt too weak to leave their homes and died later in a phenomenon we'd label "disease". The dark berries our town had been known for were no longer fit to eat. Though they still carried their strong, bittersweet taste, all who partook in it would convulse and lay still not long after. The plants turned a blind eye to our requests for food, so we heaved rocks until they complied. Something had changed, and we needed to find out what. So four others and I set out on the long trek, back to the land of God, in search of those sprawling acres and towering pillars of marble. In a land so far away, where nothing went wrong, a land so different from now that it may as well have been imaginary.
We trekked through the forest by our town. Once a welcome, gentle place, it had turned dark and dangerous. Plants displayed thorns and powder that would itch like mad if it got on you. We encountered a pack of wolves and squared off, them circling for an opening and us throwing stones until they decided we were more trouble than we were worth. The world had not become hostile to us alone- we found the strange vines of another plant that had wrapped around an old oak, draining it of its life. We found the corpse of an elephant, once proud and majestic, now still and reeking, with a host of maggots feasting upon its flesh.
The desert was hot and dry and we lost Amelia to the thirst. She'd run off, screaming about a pool of water, when we could see no such place in the dry lands. We set up tarps made from our clothes and waited out the sun, traveling only by night, where those same tarps shielded us from the biting cold. It was not all bad. In the desert, the nights would be so clear, you could see thousands of stars. The moon looked much bigger then, like when we lived in Paradise, a glowing ball of silver that chased away the terrors of the night.
We lost John to the alligators in the swamps. He was standing with us as we plotted a course. And then he was in the water, thrashing and flipping, splashing up mud and blood as he wrestled with the jaws of a gator. It was enormous, much larger than any of us could fathom. We ran when his screaming attracted more and left him to his fate.
At last, we'd reached the land of God, but it was darker than we remembered. The shadows seemed much longer and the same mansions that had once looked so roomy now felt cold and empty. We took refuge in my old home, next to tables of rotting food and slept in a bed of dust and chipped paint. Spiders had moved in. I guess we were fortunate they weren't venomous.
"I'm staying here," Abe said. "I can't go any farther. I'll clean up this home. I'll live here. I can't go any farther." He kept repeating this, and I didn't blame him. He was afraid of death. Of what might come after. He was afraid of what we'd find atop His mountain, where we once laughed and feasted. He was afraid of corrupting those memories. We all were.
We trekked on, with just the two of us left. Arkesh made good company. He made me smile with stories of better times when we stopped to rest on the mountain path. He kept his chin up, always hopeful that we could take things back, apologize to Him. He was adamant there'd been a mistake. That when we saw Him again, he'd welcome us with open arms. That He was just lonely, cooped up in a mansion way up here with no one to keep him company.
The topiary was cheery as ever. They waved their greetings as the gates swung open without so much as a squeak. The place had changed very little, but felt so alien now with what we'd seen. Arkesh lifted the brass knocker and tapped it against the door. It swung open, as it always did.
The house was empty. Gone were the tables of food and wine. Gone were the guests of all shapes, sizes, and species. It felt eerily quiet, in a place that had never been. Our footsteps echoed.
We searched each room on the ground floor, and ascended the marble staircase when we found no trace of Him. The upstairs was equally clean, with golden statues of beautiful men and women bowing upon our entry. "My gift to you" was emblazoned on the wall in gold lettering, as bright as the day it was made. And beneath the letters, lay our God. His body was cold and lacked the gentle rise and fall that our chests shared. When we took an ear to his heart, we heard silence, not the rhythmic beating of our own. I looked at Arkesh and he looked at me. And we stood together in His empty house, with the body of our fallen god, unsure of what to do.
_________________________________________________________
[more](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) | 2017-08-18T12:18:15 | 2017-08-18T11:52:07 | 365 | 195 |
[WP] You own a magical piano. When you play the theme song of a TV show or movie on it, it transports you into that world. After transporting yourself into a different world, you quickly realize that you never bothered to learn the theme song of your own. | The piano stood her vigil for over forty years. Each day the man sat and played the same song, and every time the keys absorbed a little bit of the love radiating from his soul, vibrating both the strings of her soundboard and the strings within her very subatomic structure.
As the years passed, the love the piano absorbed never faded. It grew exponentially, with each song adding to its depth. Until the day finally came that the man at the keys could barely play anymore.
The piano knew that this was the last time he would sit at her keys and play the song, the song that opened an entire world of his own imagining.
As the last key fell, the strings of the piano vibrated, but didn’t stop; their vibration had reached a type of critical mass. The energy poured out from the deepest levels of reality, from places so pure and true that those who glimpse them spend a lifetime seeking out just one more nanosecond of such truth, and took the man at the keys along with them.
The trip was only one way. No song existed that could bring him back to the world before, but he had no reason to return. His decades of love and pure caring for his fellow man had brought him to this place of true connection, a world devoid of hatred, but where it was OK to feel bad because someone was always there to make things better.
To this day, whenever you do something selfless, whenever you forgive an unkindness, whenever you chose love and honest connection over anger and isolation, you can hear him, playing his song from the deepest places of your soul.
“Won’t you please? Won’t you please?
Please won’t you be, my neighbor?” | "Oh, son of a-"
BOOM
"You are dead"
-
In the real world, Jack's friends watched in horror as they witnessed their friend getting blown to smithereens.
They were just having fun that night, and Jack's game console was on and running Dark Souls when the dare was given. Play the theme song on the piano perfectly while drunk, they said.
Jack was too intoxicated to refuse.
"How did he get in there?" Noah asked, still stunned by how Jack was teleported into the game.
"Is... is he dead?" Keith managed to spit out, the shock remaining.
"The screen just said that he died, you idiot!" Hannah scolded, although her expression suggested equal shock. "What are we going to do?"
The whole party started to mumble between themselves. Everyone was confused, questioning how Jack had managed to vanish into thin air and appear in the game. When he first popped up, he replaced the player character, and started to panic and run around the screen, with no input from the controller.
Everyone thought it was a party trick at first. That is, until he exploded.
The small crowd continued to murmur, panicking about the disappearance of their host.
"Help!"
The party was drawn to the screen by the cry of help. They saw Jack inside again, the skinny white boy futilely beating on the screen.
"Jack!" They all called out.
"Guys, you gotta help me!" He begged. "I don't want to die. Again! And then respawn to keep dying!"
The party began to panic, unsure about how to get him out. Keith, Jack's oldest friend, slid back deep behind the crowd.
"How did you get in there?" They asked.
Jack seemed unsure about their question, like he knew the answer but did not know how to explain it. He walked around with his hands on his head as the party members continually bombarded him with questions.
Soon, he was fed up with the noise.
"I have a magic piano!"
"A magic piano?" The crowd parroted in disbelief.
"Yes, a magic piano. If I play a theme song of a TV show, movie or whatever, I get transported to that world. But I need to know the theme song to our world to get back."
"So, you just need to find a piano?" Noah asked him.
"Well," he said with reluctance, a hint of embarrassment showing, "the thing is, I don't know what the our world's theme song-"
"Hang on, buddy!" Keith cried, running at the television set with a battery ram stool. "I'm coming for you!"
"Wait wait wait-"
The TV was promptly smashed, and so was the console too
And Jack never respawned, all thanks to that tool.
Edit: Some edits (good job, Keith). Also, this is the first time I made a story on this sub. Not much else to say.
Edit: Uh oh. Grammatical errors. | 2017-10-01T18:48:14 | 2017-10-01T15:57:19 | 1,167 | 107 |
[WP] Your significant other is possessed by a demon. Soon after; you realize you love the demon and not your SO anymore and it's actually mutual. Now the exorcist has arrived. | "I just want to make sure I'm understanding you correctly. You *don't* want an exorcism?"
Father John was thoroughly puzzled. First, when he'd arrived, the supposed violently possessed Amelia looked and acted completely normal. Strangely, she'd even introduced herself as Zzrgars. When Father John introduced himself as well, the crooked-nosed Stephen had responded quite awkwardly that he'd no longer wanted to go through with the exorcism.
"Well... yes. I'm guessing this isn't a common thing, but I really don't mind having Zzrgars around," said Stephen as he rubbed the tired circles under his eyes.
Zzrgars-Amelia smiled, not removing her eyes from Father John. In fact, she hadn't blinked once. Father John looked back at her and said to Stephen, "May I ask the reason?"
"Amelia was... a little difficult to be around at times, I'll say. Zzrgars is still adjusting to the whole being-a-human thing, but... she hasn't hurt me, not even once."
Father John suddenly noted scarring along Stephen's arms, and old bruising on his neck. Stephen saw him looking and smiled humorlessly.
"I see. I'm glad you've made your choice," said Father John. Zzrgars looked back up at him as he stepped back from the doorway and made his way back to his car.
Stephen slid down his driveway, catching up to Father John. He looked back at Zzrgars, who waited by the door. Stephen said quietly, "I don't mean to be rude, but is that it? You can really just leave like that, and just, just leave us be? Just because I said so?"
Father John smiled. "You've made your choice."
"I... I, yeah, I guess."
"And let me tell you something. Keep this between us for now, though Zzrgars could probably read you. But angels and demons? They come from the same place. The difference is in their intentions and their effects on their surroundings. Do you understand?"
Stephen stared back, brow furrowed.
Father John laughed. "Well. You'll find out if she ends up wanting to kill you or not. But in the meantime, take it easy."
Stephen watched Father John drive away, and then turned back to look at Zzrgars as she peered from the doorway. She saw him looking and smiled. Stephen returned the heartfelt smile and walked back up to rebuild his home. | "Right then," the exorcist, a man in a black suit with a white clerical collar said as he walked in the door, closing it behind him, "Where is it?"
"What?" Ian said.
"Where is the demon? I was summoned here to perform an exorcism."
He looked at Ian a while, who remained silent, before eventually turning to Alex, who lay in the bed in the centre of the room, tied to the bedframe with sheets anchoring each limb.
"Is it her?"
"No, that's my wife. She's fine."
"Then what is she doing tied down like that?"
"She's on a diet."
"A diet?"
"Yes, you know -- it's one of those diets like Oprah Winfrey always goes on about, but instead of padlocking the fridge, she just ties herself up. I help a little of course."
"So you tie your wife down to the bed -- I'm sorry, is there some sort of sex play going on here?"
"No, nothing like that, father!"
"Ah, fuck off priest!" Alex said.
"I beg your pardon!"
"She just gets cranky when she's starving, that's all."
"Okay, so where is it? I mean, am I dealing with a possessed person here, or what?"
"Umm, it's me. The demon's inside me."
"Inside you?"
"Yes, that's right," Ian said as he stammered, "F-flip off f-father!"
The priest glared at Ian a while. "Mr. Pringle, I don't take kindly to having my time wasted. Now, if we're done here, I really should go."
As he turned to leave, Ian reached out and stopped him with his left hand, and then with his right hand he leaned back and slapped the man right across the face. He paused a second, before reaching into his pants pocket where he produced a handkerchief, which he used to dab the corner of his mouth, before placing it back in the pocket. He silently looked at Ian with cold blue eyes.
"Well, what do you think of that then?" Ian said, "Ya fecker!"
The priest put down his briefcase, and walked over to the night stand, where he retrieved a glass of water, while looking at Alex, who struggled slightly, before returning to the foot of the bed.
"Doesn't it have to be holy water?" Ian said.
"Silence, demon! The Lord God almighty commands you!"
While holding the glass of water with one hand, he took out a cross on a chain from around his neck with his other hand, and moved it from side to side on Ian's body, then up and down, and then muttered an unintelligible prayer of sorts, before retracting his hand with the cross, which he put inside the pocket on the inside of his jacket. He then threw the glass of water right in Ian's face.
"Do you feel better?" the priest said.
"Yes, father! It's amazing, I feel completely normal now..."
Before Ian could finish his sentence, he felt a stiff fist connect with his jaw, and he went down like a ton of bricks, and hit the carpeted floor.
"Good," the man said, before walking back over to the night stand, where he placed the empty glass. He picked up his briefcase, and headed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ian and Alex looked at each other, stunned, as they heard the front door slam.
"Well, you deserved it for that fucking ridiculous diet story," Alex said.
Ian turned his head to look up at the ceiling, as he rested his head on the floor, and closed his eyes, falling into unconsciousness. | 2017-10-10T04:53:12 | 2017-10-10T02:15:25 | 68 | 32 |
[WP] Your significant other is possessed by a demon. Soon after; you realize you love the demon and not your SO anymore and it's actually mutual. Now the exorcist has arrived. | "I just want to make sure I'm understanding you correctly. You *don't* want an exorcism?"
Father John was thoroughly puzzled. First, when he'd arrived, the supposed violently possessed Amelia looked and acted completely normal. Strangely, she'd even introduced herself as Zzrgars. When Father John introduced himself as well, the crooked-nosed Stephen had responded quite awkwardly that he'd no longer wanted to go through with the exorcism.
"Well... yes. I'm guessing this isn't a common thing, but I really don't mind having Zzrgars around," said Stephen as he rubbed the tired circles under his eyes.
Zzrgars-Amelia smiled, not removing her eyes from Father John. In fact, she hadn't blinked once. Father John looked back at her and said to Stephen, "May I ask the reason?"
"Amelia was... a little difficult to be around at times, I'll say. Zzrgars is still adjusting to the whole being-a-human thing, but... she hasn't hurt me, not even once."
Father John suddenly noted scarring along Stephen's arms, and old bruising on his neck. Stephen saw him looking and smiled humorlessly.
"I see. I'm glad you've made your choice," said Father John. Zzrgars looked back up at him as he stepped back from the doorway and made his way back to his car.
Stephen slid down his driveway, catching up to Father John. He looked back at Zzrgars, who waited by the door. Stephen said quietly, "I don't mean to be rude, but is that it? You can really just leave like that, and just, just leave us be? Just because I said so?"
Father John smiled. "You've made your choice."
"I... I, yeah, I guess."
"And let me tell you something. Keep this between us for now, though Zzrgars could probably read you. But angels and demons? They come from the same place. The difference is in their intentions and their effects on their surroundings. Do you understand?"
Stephen stared back, brow furrowed.
Father John laughed. "Well. You'll find out if she ends up wanting to kill you or not. But in the meantime, take it easy."
Stephen watched Father John drive away, and then turned back to look at Zzrgars as she peered from the doorway. She saw him looking and smiled. Stephen returned the heartfelt smile and walked back up to rebuild his home. | Arthur knocked on the door, and waited.
This case was right up his alley. Woman reported a sudden change of personality on her husband, started seeing lights around the house and was sure she heard the man speaking tongues. She was worried he had been replaced , and wanted an investigator to come take a look.
Of course, rest of the folks on the PD laughed it off. Arthur didn't blame them. He was, as far as he knew, the only one on the precinct aware of the existence of the supernatural. Also, the only one who could summon and control thunderstorms. And fly.
That usually helped.
These sorts of calls were usually pranks. But Arthur knew what to look for when it was the real thing. Her statement was too coherent, the traits clear. That was either demonic possession by a being from the Abyss or a very drawn out stroke.
The door opened.
The man who opened it was not himself.
To the untrained human eye there was nothing wrong with him, other than the pornstache and the vest. But to Arthur's inhuman eyes, the deep thrumming of a not insignificantly powered demon's energy formed arches around the man's figure.
Arthur immediately outstretched his arm, pointing it directly at the demon's face. The air crackled with electricity, and energy arced through his fingers.
"This idiot won't be able to take all that, Conduit" the demon said.
"Sorry if I'm a bit overkill. Not keen on you and yours getting too near me".
"If you would please point that thing somewhere else, I imagine you'd be engrossed by my tale."
"As if I could forget. The woman is terrified, mate. You should be back at the Abyss. I know what happens to a human's soul after prolonged demon exposure. Is he even still there? Or you've had your fill?"
"He's not leaving" a third voice said.
The woman was young, pretty, and directed a terrifying glare to Arthur. She quickly put herself between the two of them, directly in front of a gigawatt of energy. Her aura was interacting most strangely with the demon's when they touched each other.
*Great, I'll have to call Rhea to wipe her* Arthur thought.
"Ma'am, your husband is about as dead as he can be. This one here is taking his body on a ride. You should probably back away."
"I know" she said " and please, if you see the ghost of Andrei, tell him to stick it. Bastard was going to kill me and claim insurance, before Azlral took his body. He saved me."
"If it's anything, I didn't get in him voluntarily" the demon said. "He was rummaging through the attic.and touched my soulstone. It wasn't my design. And me and Lily are getting quite close now that I've saved her."
"I tried to kill him" she said " and it turns out he... Enjoys that. After the third time I stabbed him I just thought to myself 'you know what, why not just talk to him'. We have a lot of common interests. And he's better than Andrei ever was at almost anything. He is NOT hurting anyone. Don't take him away" she added, voice cracking the fearless facade, "Please".
"You're marked" Arthur said, lowering his arm. "I'll be back for a deeper chat. Wait for me tonight at the rooftop, demon. There is enough trouble on this city."
"Yes, I could quite see that. The Night Queen, is that how she calls herself? We'll see what can be done."
Arthur grunted, and left.
This could be interesting. | 2017-10-10T04:53:12 | 2017-10-09T15:40:03 | 68 | 23 |
[WP] Write a letter to someone you miss
It's been a rough week. Everyone has someone they wish were still with them. Write to them and tell them how you feel. Pour your heart out. No judging. Even if they never see it, someone will. And thank you. It's tough to be alone. | Alex,
It has been 99 days since you left. 99 days. Some days are easier than the rest. There are days when I genuinely smile as I remember you. You left me with so many good memories; and I thank you for each and every one. I miss you. Every. Single. Day.
You said we'd be together for the rest of our lives - we just didn't realize how short the rest of your life would be. I will love you, for the rest of mine.
Yours Forever,
Aya | Michael,
We were both graduating. I understand, and it was easier for us to just go our own separate ways. I wanted to say something, but rejection hurts more than leaving questions unasked. It wouldn't have worked anyway.
I loved how you call me Katherine instead of Katie. Everyone else called me Katie, even though I introduced myself as Katherine.
I loved that you made a game of making me laugh when I wasn't supposed to.
I loved that I would wake up tangled in you, like you couldn't get close enough while we were asleep.
I loved crawling in bed with you after getting back from an early class.
I'm sorry that I hid things from you. I was afraid. Afraid of pushing you away and losing the little time we had left. I told you we had a little scare, no big deal. I told you that I took care of it, I was fine, don't worry about it. That wasn't a total lie, but I definitely fudged some things.
I'm sorry I was short with you, cold to you by the end. It wasn't logical, I just didn't know how to deal.
It was more than a little scare. I was more than a few days late. It took more than just a pill. I would have been due last month. I was terrified, and I didn't want to put that on you. I'm still not okay.
I imagine a parallel universe where it had gone differently. I Know I made the right decision for me at the time, but there's always the *what-if*. Where would we be? Would we be happy? Would you resent me?
Do you resent me now?
I miss you.
Katherine | 2017-11-05T21:44:07 | 2017-11-05T19:14:02 | 1,462 | 236 |
[WP] Write a letter to someone you miss
It's been a rough week. Everyone has someone they wish were still with them. Write to them and tell them how you feel. Pour your heart out. No judging. Even if they never see it, someone will. And thank you. It's tough to be alone. | Hey Moose,
We had a good run. 16 years is good for a dog that somebody else starved in their back yard for a while.
You did really good. You remembered all those tricks somebody else taught you, showed the cats/birds love, and learned to stop being scared over food. You gave the best hugs on the planet.
I'm sorry that your last days hurt so much. We tried to work around your sickness best we could but it was too late when we figured out what was wrong.
I know you couldn't understand at the time but the other twin dogs were hurt just like you, but instead of missing food they never had love or anyone else. Thanks for trying to love them, too. They've gotten a lot better at nipping and trusting people over time.
That last year was really rough but the time the family had with you was beautiful...even though the " dog ate the sofa" story still makes the rounds at parties. Say hi to Herky, Xena, Scouty, Jazz, Ouma and the birds for me.
Thanks for that last smile.
Hanging in as always,
E. | Dear Pop Pop,
I miss you. It's been about 11 or 12 years since you died. I was really young at the time, so all I remember is the last few months you were alive, watching the cancer slowly eat away at your body. With each visit you got more and more frail. I didn't recognize it at the time but looking back, seeing what it was doing to my dad, your son, was almost as bad as watching you. I wish I had more memories of you, more good memories anyway. Mom and dad say you adored me, that you loved me more than life itself, but I'll never know. They tell me stories about you, how you used to take me for rides in your convertible and I loved every minute of it, if only I could remember it. If only I could remember your laugh, your smile, your voice. Sometimes my dad looks at me and says how proud you would be of me, it's hard looking at his face when he says that, I can see the pain in his eyes. I still remember the note I wrote and put in your coffin. It said 'You were a good Pop Pop.' I was a little kid at the time so that's all I could think of to say, but I think it was enough I remember putting it in that little drawer in the side of your coffin to be buried with you. I even remember wearing that Mariachi suit that had been in the family for generations, but I don't remember you. I still have that suit, it's still hanging in my closet. I look at it from time to time, and I try to remember something, anything about you but the frail old man dying of cancer, but I can't. I think my parents are right when they say you would be proud of me, I've had a steady girlfriend for almost 5 years now, her name is Hanna. I think you would like her, she's amazing. I have a steady job too, full time working with dad at the airport. I graduated high school too, two years ago, and now I'm getting ready to go to college. I'm gonna get a business degree and then learn to be an airplane mechanic, and maybe if I'm good enough I'll open my own shop, that's when the business degree is for. Well I have to go now Pop Pop, I've got work in the morning and I need to get to sleep. I miss you. | 2017-11-06T00:29:00 | 2017-11-05T20:37:15 | 235 | 16 |
[WP] Write a letter to someone you miss
It's been a rough week. Everyone has someone they wish were still with them. Write to them and tell them how you feel. Pour your heart out. No judging. Even if they never see it, someone will. And thank you. It's tough to be alone. | Hey Mom,
It’s been a few months since we’ve last talked. I miss you.
I’m still not quite sure why you decided to cut me out of your life. I’d always thought family wasn’t just blood relations, but those who matter to us. You’ve shown me otherwise.
I just can’t believe you threw me out like that. I watched as you spent years proving how much I mattered to you. And you mattered just as much to me. Then you turned around and got rid of me and my father like we were garbage.
Even if something happened between you and my father, why are you throwing me out? You even tried to turn my sisters against me. You’re trying to sabotage what little family I have left out of spite.
And you know that you’re full of shit. When I called you out on it you just said nothing, because there’s nothing for you to say.
You’re just being shitty because you can be. I hope you enjoy the rest of your shallow life surrounded by the people you’ve manipulated into liking you, because that’s all you’re ever going to get.
Love,
Your Little Shit | Dear Pop Pop,
I miss you. It's been about 11 or 12 years since you died. I was really young at the time, so all I remember is the last few months you were alive, watching the cancer slowly eat away at your body. With each visit you got more and more frail. I didn't recognize it at the time but looking back, seeing what it was doing to my dad, your son, was almost as bad as watching you. I wish I had more memories of you, more good memories anyway. Mom and dad say you adored me, that you loved me more than life itself, but I'll never know. They tell me stories about you, how you used to take me for rides in your convertible and I loved every minute of it, if only I could remember it. If only I could remember your laugh, your smile, your voice. Sometimes my dad looks at me and says how proud you would be of me, it's hard looking at his face when he says that, I can see the pain in his eyes. I still remember the note I wrote and put in your coffin. It said 'You were a good Pop Pop.' I was a little kid at the time so that's all I could think of to say, but I think it was enough I remember putting it in that little drawer in the side of your coffin to be buried with you. I even remember wearing that Mariachi suit that had been in the family for generations, but I don't remember you. I still have that suit, it's still hanging in my closet. I look at it from time to time, and I try to remember something, anything about you but the frail old man dying of cancer, but I can't. I think my parents are right when they say you would be proud of me, I've had a steady girlfriend for almost 5 years now, her name is Hanna. I think you would like her, she's amazing. I have a steady job too, full time working with dad at the airport. I graduated high school too, two years ago, and now I'm getting ready to go to college. I'm gonna get a business degree and then learn to be an airplane mechanic, and maybe if I'm good enough I'll open my own shop, that's when the business degree is for. Well I have to go now Pop Pop, I've got work in the morning and I need to get to sleep. I miss you. | 2017-11-05T21:31:44 | 2017-11-05T20:37:15 | 81 | 16 |
[WP] Write a letter to someone you miss
It's been a rough week. Everyone has someone they wish were still with them. Write to them and tell them how you feel. Pour your heart out. No judging. Even if they never see it, someone will. And thank you. It's tough to be alone. | To you, whom I didn’t treat right, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry in a way that you may not even realize because it hurts me every day that I live I remember you. I remember not being the very best for you and that cracks me deep down, I don’t know how else to say it. I feel fractured because I wasn’t the best for you, and I wish so badly I could’ve been your superman, your hero, or at the very least your friend. You deserved and deserve so much more than I gave you and I pray you find a hero who will give you everything I didn’t. I made a choice through my inaction to not live to my fullest and treat you the best, I let you down. But please know that I honestly feel we are both better for it. Kintsukoroi means “golden repair”, essential we are better for having been broken and living past it, and I hope desperately that it will get better for you, or maybe it already has, I’m not sure. What I do know is that you are a beautiful entity, one the world sure could use more of, so go out and be more than who you were, because you are stronger now. You have your kintsukoroi, so it’s about time I get a move on with mine. | Not sure if this is more because this is what I want to tell you or what but here goes.
When I first came to this school. You where basically my first friend which then led me to becoming friends with a lot of people. However there was one person In particular I liked, a lot. One who gave me emotions I had never felt before and feelings I didn't know I had. However I didn't know much about who you liked or what your dating/romance history was and you should have told me sooner, because if only I had knew. I always had a single rule when it came to my friends and liking someone, If you've known them longer or liked them for longer than I have, i won't get in your way. She's all yours. But instead you told me you didn't like anyone, including her and so I fell, further than I ever thought I could. I tried my best to do things I've never done before, I tried my best to hide my emotions to everyone but you. But then she started to show affection for you and so did you, with or without realising it. I don't know. You kept reassuring me that you were just friends, even when everyone else told me to give up and not bother trying. But then... Then I told you about the other girl I like, not even a quarter as much though, because I could actually talk to her and do stuff with her, unlike the other. So I told you and trusted you with this just to get what I did back. You had liked her for much much longer, everything you had reassured me with, as obvious as it was, was a lie. The thing is, I know why you did this, because you told me. You didn't want to hurt me and you didn't, you never could. How could someone's best friend hurt them after all? But now after I've fallen so much and learnt all these new things, I did exactly what I said I would. I stepped back, I let you go for her and now, well soon... You'll be happy together. But now here I am, in the background as always, watching with all those feelings that do nothing but make me cry. Of course I'm happy for you, you got, not only the girl but each other. The one the other loves. But you kept one thing from me, something I know caused you pain. Watching as I tried, tried and failed. And now this, this I will keep from you, from everyone we know for no one to see but me. Ever.
I'm sorry. | 2017-11-05T23:09:04 | 2017-11-05T22:02:40 | 29 | 18 |
[WP] The year is 2038 and net neutrality has been dead for almost two decades. But a rebellious group managed to travel back to 2017...
https://www.battleforthenet.com/#bftn-action-form
Edit: Obligatory thanks for the gold! Just trying to do my part on this fight, but as I don't live in the US, raising awareness is the most I can do, glad it worked! | As I sat in my darkened bedroom, with only the ghostly glow of my computer screen and the click-clack of my keyboard for company. I scan through the news feeds, searching for anything that’ll pique my interest, then I see it.
“Americans continue to fight for net neutrality” I murmured the headline to myself.
Then it dawned on me, they’d been fighting it for twenty years, whilst the rest of the world carried on, with free access to the internet.
The little voice in my head commented “still don’t give a fuck”.
And so I carried on with my life, like the other 95.7% of the world. | I remembered seeing this back now.
I thought I should stop by to 2017 on my way back to bitch-slap Karl Marx, and let you all know that it all ends up okay. All of this protesting gets us nowhere, and they do succeeded in banning net neutrality, but the free market saves us. It always does.
Around mid 2018, despite all of their promises to the contrary, AT&T and Verizon began capitalising on their duopoly. For a few months the future looked truly bleak as people started going outside and getting exposed to the sun, and other people. Necks were shaved, showers were had, it was horrible.
But seemingly out of nowhere - although in hindsight we really should have trusted in the wisdom of Ajit Pai - smaller ISP's started popping up all along the east coast. The cynics in us outwardly dismissed them and their dreams for a better world; Didn't they know that the corporations and their evil capitalism were too great an opponent? But secretly we all hoped they would succeed and allow us to return to our slovenly ways.
And succeed they did! It wasn't immediately clear how, but over time it was revealed that many of the big content providers had been preparing for just this eventuality. By 2025 Google alone had seeded over 9000 smaller ISP's across the nation. It wasn't fast, and there were many lawsuits, but by time President Trump suffered that fatal aneurysm, we were all safely back in our hovels, bingeing on the latest forgettable rubbish, and spewing our arbitrary opinions into the void.
Still, you are here now, and you can not know that this is other than a fictitious tale. But when the brutal sun is beating down on you as you scurry about in the big outdoors, and you think it's all gone to shit, try to remember: you sometimes need to go through horrible times to truly appreciate the good in the mundane. | 2017-11-21T23:08:42 | 2017-11-21T23:01:17 | 22 | 14 |
[WP] You joined a mob. The boss asks you to prove your loyalty by killing your girlfriend. Failure to prove your loyalty will result in your loved ones dying. You look around the room at all the pictures and notice, you're dating daughter of the mafia boss. | “Now go.” The boss grumbled, leaning back in his slick arm chair.
“But sir,” I️ tried to protest, twiddling my thumbs and glancing at one particular photo of his daughter, it was one of my favorites. “Sir you have a very beautiful daughter.”
“I️ know.”
“It would be awful if you were to lose her.”
He pressed his palms into the desk and leaned forward. “Are you threatening me boy?”
That came out wrong didn’t it. “No sir, it’s just that-“
“Cause if you are-“
“Sir, I’m dating your daughter.”
The room went so quiet, you could almost hear the mice in the basement gnawing at the pipes.
“Sir?”
“How long?” His expression was mute.
“A month or so, we met the first time I️ came in, she was sitting out in the hall waiting for you to finish up.” I️ tried my best to swallow but my throat was sticking to itself.
“Well. I️’ve got a new job for you then.”
I️ nodded blankly, unsure of what to expect.
“Don’t let any harm come to her, or else-“
“My loved ones all die?”
“Exactly.” His face was still fairly neutral, but unless it was just my imagination, there was the smallest hint of a smile.
“Yes sir.”
| "Is this the new recruit?" The man behind the desk looked me over as I stared at him defiantly.
"This is...Toni." The burly bodyguard crossed his arms uncomfortably and shuffled his feet nervously.
"The name is Antonia but I go by Toni. I knew I wouldn't get taken seriously if you knew I was a woman."
The slightly diminutive man behind the desk crossed his fingers in thought. He looked familiar but I couldn't place where I had seen him before. "Marcus, we will need to talk about your vetting process at a later time," he said softly but with a hard edge to his voice that made the muscular man next to him turn white. "I was expecting a man with the name Tony and you do not fit the bill. You are a woman and this isn't the kind of business for a woman."
I laughed derisively. "Oh, and what kind of business am I as a woman suited for? Cleaning the house and cooking? Staying home with all the kids I pop out? Sorry to burst your bubble but this is the 21st century. Women aren't delicate flowers. I have no desire to stay home and do nothing with my life. I know what this job entails and I think you'll find I am a suitable candidate."
Marcus looked more apprehensive as I spoke but the Boss looked at me with a pensive look on his face. "So, Toni, what would you be willing to do to prove that you have what it takes?"
"Name it," I answered instantly.
"If you fail this test, your family will be killed for your insolence. I want you to kill your boyfriend."
"No can do, Big Boy," I responded.
"Well, I suppose we will have to find your family to send you a message," he said with a grin on his face that told me he thought that he won.
"I should clarify. I don't have a boyfriend but I do have a girlfriend."
The Boss exchanged looks with Marcus and then said, "Well, then you must kill her."
As I gazed at this man with salt and pepper hair, I instantly knew where I recognized him from. "Do you have a daughter?" I inquired.
"Yes. She is the light of my life."
"Does your daughter have a boyfriend?" I asked him with a smile creeping on to my face.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Some schmuck. She is always breaking up with some guy."
I looked at him with a giant smile and said, "Mr. Miano, I take it that Isabella hasn't talked about me. Don't you know your daughter is a lesbian?" | 2017-12-02T19:22:11 | 2017-12-02T17:53:01 | 512 | 180 |
[WP] JFK shot first. | "Sir, you sure you want the top down?"
"Yesss, everything will be fine." He smiled wryly. Adjusting his suit jacket, he gave a slight pat on both sides. He felt the assuring press of American iron on both of his hips.
"Let's go meet my Constituents."
The hardest part was keeping up the facade. He knew anyone in the crowd could be the assassin, but for appearances he smiled and waved. He had to draw them in, had to find out who they were working for.
Suddenly, a call in his ear piece.
"The Library! Book Depository, high..."
Kennedy spun around, falling back first onto the back of the driver's seat. There! A glimmer from a scope! In a swift motion he drew his dual Python revolvers from his belt, and let loose.
BLAM BLAM BLAM! One round after the next, the cylinders spun. The massive caliber rounds blowing chunks of brick and wood as they painted the tower window. The crowd erupted in shrieks and yells, the terrified onlookers running in all directions. Click click...sssssisssss. The smoke from the last rounds fizzled into the air. John squinted at the window, where a bloodied arm now dangled freely, it's owner breathing his last breaths.
John holstered his revolvers, and sat up a little from his position, resting on the convertible side.
"Phew, what a day." He sighed, "Jackie, you al-" BANG! A shot rang out, cutting him off.
The bullet tore through his shoulder, ripping him violently in a 180 over the edge of the car.
He had barely hit the pavement when he heard more shots ringing out, peppering the vehicle.
"The grassy knoll...of course." He winced.
His Secret Service began to return fire, but as John looked around in a daze, he saw agents being dropped one by one. The pain from his arm too intense to do anything other than draw himself up against the side of the car.
Silence. The last shot echoed across the now empty street, followed by footsteps. Closer, closer, turning around the rear of the car. John looked up, head still spinning.
"M...Marilyn? But you're dead?"
"A clever ruse. I've always been a spy. And you...You really are a fool. You think you could dissolve the Federal Reserve and not face the music?" She raised her pistol to his forehead. "I think its time for your resignation, Mr. President."
Kennedy closed his eyes. Blam! He winced. But wait...he wasn't dead. He opened his eyes, Marilyn lay sprawled on the pavement, a hole the size of a coconut in her chest.
"This time. Stay dead...bitch."
He looked up quickly to see Jackie, standing in the car, smoking shotgun in hand.
"I love you, dear. Let's go home."
| The motorcade rolled down the avenue. There he was, smiling and waving to the crowd like he earned it. I never knew his name. They called him John Fitzgerald Kennedy. They called him the President of the United States. The last part may have been true, but not the first. I was John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
I have no memory of when it happened, but one day I was walking by Adams House in Cambridge and the next, I was sitting in a dark room. The man said his name was Lee Harvey Oswald and that he had some questions for me.
They were odd questions, mostly about my family and my families connection to certain Jewish families in Germany. It was 1937. Oswald was a Nazi or at least a sympathizer.
It took me two years to climb out of that hell and by the time I got my feet under me and got back to Hyannis Port, the impostor was firmly implanted and I was thrown out on my ear.
For the next 15 years, I drank, whored, gambled, and basically lived the life of a man who had no purpose or sense of direction. I forgot who I was. I forgot that I had been replaced. That all changed in 1960 when I won the Presidential election.
Oddly, I was in Canada at the time, working a lumber mill and getting drunk every night... and day. Someone came in and told me what had happened. I watched through rum-colored glasses until I saw him appear on television. I was shocked into sobriety. There was my impostor and standing next to him was his brother, Robert Kennedy.
I say it was his brother because it sure as heck wasn't mine. Worse, the man pretending to be Bobby Kennedy was none other than Lee Harvey Oswald.
Were Ted and Rosemary replaced too? My father? Mother? I stood and walked out of that lumber camp and started a three year journey that led me here.
I never found out what the fake John Kennedy was going to do. In many ways, he seemed a decent man even if he was a philanderer. I suppose that may have been an imitation though. I was never exactly loyal to the women I went with. Still, to the outside observer, the man had done nothing to be assassinated for. If not for the man portraying Bobby, I would never have thought twice about him.
The gun felt steady in my hands. We had to be sure. I saw Bobby, the real Bobby, through my scope. He was standing at the top of a little grassy rise that could oversee the motorcade. He wasn't a good shot, even though he had a pistol, it was just in case I missed.
I wouldn't miss.
I found most of my family. Bobby was the only one still alive. Rosemary had died of a drug overdose. Joseph had died killing his own impostor. I found out later that Joseph had been the first of us to change. He had been captured by the actual Nazi's in 1934 when he traveled to Germany.
Kathleen, like Joseph, died killing her own impostor in a plane crash. Eunice was killed trying to kill her own impostor. She failed and her body was dumped in the Charles. Patricia and Ted, as near as I could tell, forgot that they were ever Kennedys to begin with.
Jean and Robert though, I found and recruited. It was Jean who insured that "John" would ride in the open air and it was Robert who made sure that they took the intended route.
I exhaled and fired. I didn't miss. I fired again.
A third shot? I only fired twice. I don't know who fired at the Governor.
I am sorry about the other man. Tippit? I... panicked and I will accept responsibility for that. I had just killed the highest ranked spy the world has ever known and I thought he was there to kill me, but I acted hastily. His death weighs on me.
But for the so called President? I'm glad he's dead. He would have destroyed America. I'm a damned hero. | 2018-01-02T09:51:41 | 2018-01-02T09:00:14 | 44 | 10 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | "I know of a game," said the man, finally speaking up after a long pause. Death's glare shifted, as if his bony face cocked an eyebrow. The man crossed his arms, collecting himself for the explanation. The only way to win this game was to make sure the other party lost first, after all.
"Well?" Death questioned, growing impatient. "What is it?"
Having prepared himself, the man looked up at Death, ready to win.
"Have you heard of The Game?" | “You got it?”
The question takes me off guard, I’m still trying to process this new info. The tall man with the black hooded cloak at the end of my bed tilted his head slightly, the scythe that rested in the crook of his arm caught the moonlight ominously.
“Sorry, this outfit does normally startles people. How’s this?”
His form shimmered and before me stood an old gentleman with immaculately manicured whiskers and a twinkle in His eye. His tweed suit with matching trilby in stark contrast to His previous outfit. He adjusted his grip on His suspiciously scythe-like curved cane.
“Ahh, less doom and gloom now. Gotta keep up appearances though,” He indicated His cane, ”So how’s that choice of game coming along?”
The question was delivered with considerably less dread attached than the previous proposition. More like that of certain playful gods from the pantheons rather than Death come to claim you.
A small whoosh of breath escaped my lips. A decision has to be made. This body of mine was considerably less spry than my younger years, and nor was my mind functioning at full capacity. What game could I choose and what chance did I have, it seemed like anything was on the table. Did I even want to win? I had lived a full life, I tried to be kind, a good person, I saw the world, I loved my family. Did I need more of that if He has decided it was my time?
Resolved, I look up at Him. He smiled broadly, a smile of a man confident in himself “What shall it be, a game of strength, of skill, or perhaps of wits?”
“A game of chance perhaps,” I responded, his smile broadening to one of pure glee.
“Now this, should be interesting.” | 2018-03-07T07:43:55 | 2018-03-07T02:57:36 | 251 | 46 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | Death watches as the boy in front of him starts getting excited, blithering on about some competition he had won and gotten an "awesome tool of awesome." The man starts rummaging around his untidy room looking for something.
Out of the closet comes several odd items. Board games, video games, a glass tube with burn marks around one of two openings, some dirty clothes that would have made anyone with a sensitive nose cry out in horror. When the man finally straightens up, he muttered to himself. "Must've stored it under the bed."
Death is fortunately not bound by the pretty laws of time, and this does not feel the need to hurry the emaciated man up. He is, however, able to get bored. Instead of watching the man continue to remove items from under his bed, he looks at the posters on the walls, all of famous musicians. Oddly, it appears that they're all playing a specific instrument, a-
"Found it!" Cries the man. He triumphantly holds out a instrument case. "I won this in a competition a few years back."
Death had never been the musical type, which meant any musician wise enough to use this against him had an advantage in these death games. One day, he'll beat Keith Richards, just you see. He reluctantly opens the case to find a beautiful instrument, one that had clearly not been made by mortal hands. It's shine reflected the dim light all over the room, the pale light illuminating the dark and dusty room. Despite being unused for several years at least, plucking the strings still produced the proper tones. Despite appearing to be made of gold, it wasn't heavy.
"Alright, so let's have a rock off." The man says, clearly getting excited. "We each get a turn on the guitar, and whoever plays better wins."
Death signs dramatically. "Sure, just one question first. Where did you get this?"
"I told you, from the devil, weren't you listening?" The man clears a space suitable for rocking out by bulldozing the myriad of junk out of the way.
"Mmm. Well, Jonathan, are you ready?"
Johnathan grins. "I was the best that ever was. I was *born* ready." | Death wasn't at all what Johnathan had pictured him to be. slicked-back hair and well fit suit reminded him a lot more of a Wall Street trader rather than the immortal reaper of souls. As he spied the somewhat overweight man in front of him, his mind worked to formulate a plan.
"Any game?" Johnathan asked, to ensure that he understood just how far the rules could bend.
"Any game," responded Death, matter of factly.
"Well I used to play a lot of games as a kid. Have you every heard of Dungeons and Drag-?" probed Johnathan.
"That's ... cooperative storytelling. Not a game. Gygax tried that on me to. If I didn't let him get away with it, I certainly wouldn't let you"
"So not any game then," quipped Johnathan.
"Yes, any game. Where, a game is defined as a structured engagement based on a before-hand agreed on framework of rules, which ends with one party being successful and the other not."
Johnathan thought for a moment. He could work with this. "Then I request that we play, 'The Campaign for North Africa'."
"I've never heard of it, but that would be acceptable. We shall start right now."
...
Around the 32nd day, Death was getting very tired of the inane rules which "The Campaign for North Africa" demanded at every turn.
[52.6] The Italian Pasta Rule
"The Italians, needing water to cook their pasta rations, must receive an additional 1 point of water when store are distributed. Any battalion-sized unit that does not receive their Pasta Point that have a Cohesion Level of -10 or worse immediately become Disorganized, as if they had reached -26"
[49.3] Evaporation and Spillage
"From Sept., 1940 until the last Game-Turn in August , 1941, the Commonwealth spillage and evaporation rate is 9 percent per Game-turn. This is due to poorly constructed containers used by the British; It wasn't until the British copied that German "jerry can" that their rate was reduced."
[55.4] AXIS COASTAL SHIPPING
"The Axis had a small fleet of boats that they used for coastal transfer of small amounts of supplies. These were old shipping boats and aging tramp steamers that could ill afford to venture too far from land. They have a limited capacity."
"Isn't there some way we can speed this up? I'm missing so many appointments," pleaded Death. With all of Death's time occupied on this game, people were living much longer than they should. The boss would not be happy.
"Well, according to rule 23.5.1b," cited Johnathan as he flipped widely through one of the myriad immense volumes of rules, "in order to finish the game, we either play until the final day of the war, which could be just another 4 years, or one of us could forfeit"
Death looked down at the battleship pieces that he had secreted into his lap, thinking that Johnathan wouldn't see his deft slight-of-hand. Johnathan was just one life. Sometimes, his clients won, it was an occupational hazard. But he would much rather give 10 more years of life than shirk his other occupational responsibilities. "Fine," growled Death.
"I forfeit, you win." | 2018-03-07T09:07:30 | 2018-03-07T07:43:27 | 55 | 39 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | Death watches as the boy in front of him starts getting excited, blithering on about some competition he had won and gotten an "awesome tool of awesome." The man starts rummaging around his untidy room looking for something.
Out of the closet comes several odd items. Board games, video games, a glass tube with burn marks around one of two openings, some dirty clothes that would have made anyone with a sensitive nose cry out in horror. When the man finally straightens up, he muttered to himself. "Must've stored it under the bed."
Death is fortunately not bound by the pretty laws of time, and this does not feel the need to hurry the emaciated man up. He is, however, able to get bored. Instead of watching the man continue to remove items from under his bed, he looks at the posters on the walls, all of famous musicians. Oddly, it appears that they're all playing a specific instrument, a-
"Found it!" Cries the man. He triumphantly holds out a instrument case. "I won this in a competition a few years back."
Death had never been the musical type, which meant any musician wise enough to use this against him had an advantage in these death games. One day, he'll beat Keith Richards, just you see. He reluctantly opens the case to find a beautiful instrument, one that had clearly not been made by mortal hands. It's shine reflected the dim light all over the room, the pale light illuminating the dark and dusty room. Despite being unused for several years at least, plucking the strings still produced the proper tones. Despite appearing to be made of gold, it wasn't heavy.
"Alright, so let's have a rock off." The man says, clearly getting excited. "We each get a turn on the guitar, and whoever plays better wins."
Death signs dramatically. "Sure, just one question first. Where did you get this?"
"I told you, from the devil, weren't you listening?" The man clears a space suitable for rocking out by bulldozing the myriad of junk out of the way.
"Mmm. Well, Jonathan, are you ready?"
Johnathan grins. "I was the best that ever was. I was *born* ready." | Gasping awake, he's surrounded by a dark haze. He doesn't remember when he arrived or how he did so, but he has a burning ache to go home. He hears a sound, a voice? He isn't too sure as he whips around in a panic.
"Hello?" He calls out. The anxiety, trembling from his voice, "I think I'm lost," he is met with silence. He tries to walk, but finds himself stuck firmly in place. His arms and torso moves just fine. It is when he tries to lift his legs that he finds resistance. The realization of being trapped sends his heart racing, "Hello?!"
"Calm yourself child," a calm voice finally replies. It's withered and rough on his spine. This sound causes all of his hair to stand on end. His body response is anything but calming. From the smoke a shadow appears. He watches in fear until a minute figure emerges. Wearing an all black business ensemble a woman, no more than four feet walks towards him.
"Who a-are you?" He asks nervously, "What do you want? Why can't I move my legs?"
She smiles up to him, "I'm afraid you have reached the end of your road Derrick," his eyes widen at his name, "Yes, I know who you are and what life you have lead. It's only because of that, we even meet now."
"What are you talking about?" He quickly replies, "I just want to go home, to go back to my family."
"That is what I am here to offer. A gamble if you will. We play a game of your choosing. If you win, you go back to your family and I will wait up to ten years before I come to collect. If I win, however, I will take you on the spot," he looks to her as her words settle in. His fear recedes as he finally understands where he is. More importantly, he understands what she is, "Do we have a deal or should I take you now? It's your choice."
"Any game of my choosing?"
"Any. Though I should mention, if either of us are caught cheating, we forfeit and lose immediately."
He furls his brow as he brings his hand to his chin. She watches him deliberate and waits patiently, "Deal."
"Excellent I am glad to hear it," she says as she clasps her hands together, "So what shall it be?"
"It's called 'Not It'," he states with a smile. It was his daughter's favorite.
"Not i-"
"Not it!" He quickly shouts triumphantly. She does not respond. His glee quickly shrinks away in the silence.
Her stone stare is mortifying. She twitches a bit, causing him to flinch before being surprised by an outburst of laughter, "That was very clever of you, Derrick," she says joyously. he looks to her in confusion, "I look forward to seeing you again."
He hears a finger snap moments before opening his eyes and drawing breath again. He's home. Unaware of his encounter he has the feeling he had a very strange dream. Looking to his left he sees his wife seated besides him. Her white blouse spattered with red marks all over. He looks to her in confusion as she looks down to him. He can see a wild fury in her eyes as she plunges the knife back into his chest. | 2018-03-07T09:07:30 | 2018-03-07T08:38:23 | 55 | 29 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | Death watches as the boy in front of him starts getting excited, blithering on about some competition he had won and gotten an "awesome tool of awesome." The man starts rummaging around his untidy room looking for something.
Out of the closet comes several odd items. Board games, video games, a glass tube with burn marks around one of two openings, some dirty clothes that would have made anyone with a sensitive nose cry out in horror. When the man finally straightens up, he muttered to himself. "Must've stored it under the bed."
Death is fortunately not bound by the pretty laws of time, and this does not feel the need to hurry the emaciated man up. He is, however, able to get bored. Instead of watching the man continue to remove items from under his bed, he looks at the posters on the walls, all of famous musicians. Oddly, it appears that they're all playing a specific instrument, a-
"Found it!" Cries the man. He triumphantly holds out a instrument case. "I won this in a competition a few years back."
Death had never been the musical type, which meant any musician wise enough to use this against him had an advantage in these death games. One day, he'll beat Keith Richards, just you see. He reluctantly opens the case to find a beautiful instrument, one that had clearly not been made by mortal hands. It's shine reflected the dim light all over the room, the pale light illuminating the dark and dusty room. Despite being unused for several years at least, plucking the strings still produced the proper tones. Despite appearing to be made of gold, it wasn't heavy.
"Alright, so let's have a rock off." The man says, clearly getting excited. "We each get a turn on the guitar, and whoever plays better wins."
Death signs dramatically. "Sure, just one question first. Where did you get this?"
"I told you, from the devil, weren't you listening?" The man clears a space suitable for rocking out by bulldozing the myriad of junk out of the way.
"Mmm. Well, Jonathan, are you ready?"
Johnathan grins. "I was the best that ever was. I was *born* ready." | "Look, Gary, i am not saying that i don't enjoy our games, but how long have we been playing now?"
"oh, i don't know, it's been a while" said gary, smiling from the other side of the table.
"it's been nine years now, gary. Nine. years. Gary"
gary lifted his arms above his head and stretched, cracking his shoulders and knuckles. it had been nine years since Death sent out his challenge to him. same one as everyone gets, the opportunity to challenge death to a game of their choosing. And, well, death had forgoten to check whom he was challangeing.
"well, if you had had more time to play, we could be further along by now. i mean, twice a week is good,in fact, it's better than what most can manage, but you do know that it gives me an unfair advantage, right? This game is literary all that i can do in my curent state, and twice a week gives me alot of time to pass the time."
"Look, you know i enjoy our games, but i can't cancel people dying untill you lose"
Gary chuckled at that. twice a week for 9 years, and death still thought that he could beet him at his own game?
"you ain't beaten me yet mate. come on, did you get the natchos and MD for the night? it's your turn to buy"
Death sighted
"yes, and your pizza, with extra cheese and peperoni."
"From Marcos? your the best D" gary smiled. You had to give death his due, the guy knew his fast food. piping hot, greasy flavorful and only from the best pizzabaker ever to live. In fact, Gary suspected that Death had taken the baker to the afterlife in person only so he knew where the man "lived", and could keep geting pizza from the man.
"Soo, where where we?"
"You wherejust planing your attack on the Black spine, when you pulled out another book with gear. Wich, i might ad, is bullshit. You really shouldn't be able to do that."
Gary kept grining. it had infact taken him 5 years before he realiced that he could, infact, do that. still, he had his pride. he didn't do anything TO gamebreaking. the game, after all, needed some kind of balance.
"tell you what, i will let you spent your downtime inbetween games in heaven, if you agree to change the game. i really can't stand the confusing tacos"
"THACO death, it's THACO, not taco. sure, i can deal with that." said gary. O, you poor sood. you have noo idea what you just did Gary thought.
Gary started to move away his books. Death lit up, he hadn't really thought Gary would go for it. Then, gary picked forth 5 new books. Way, way ls than the previus game. then he started to write. In a way, he was sad. Death was a decent DM, and he realy liked to play with him. But maybe he could convince Death to keep playing with him after he won
"I chose to be a Cobold, and for my class, i chose wizard... Oh, and his name, is Punpun" Gary Gygax said. It was time to end this, and win the game he had made so many years ago. And he still hadn't used his loaded d20s... | 2018-03-07T09:07:30 | 2018-03-07T08:36:30 | 55 | 10 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | "Hey Death, whats up?"
Gary knew the bitter cloak of cold that surrounded him was the physical manifestation of Death. Most mortal folk would have cowered in fear if they knew the Grim Reaper was coming for them.
But not Gary. He had played this game before and won.
*You know why I have come, mortal.*
"Of course I do" he said as a smile crept over his lips. "I look forward to our little meetings".
In the corner of the room, a figure formed out of nothingness. The eyes always came first, they burned like a white hot fire if you looked into them for too long. The first of the Death god's bag of tricks, looking into those eyes for even a second would turn you into ash. Next came the cloak, a cloak so dark that it drank any light that tried to illuminate it. Even the human soul would be drained if a mortal made contact with it, the soul just being another form of energy and thus, light. Then the hands formed, more human than one would expect. Albeit, they were gross hands, diseased and raw with no skin. Touching those hands would be a slow and nasty death, but Gary knew better.
"Done showing off, old friend"?
*We are not friends. I have a debt to collect. Name your game, mortal.*
Gary chuckled the same way an adult would chuckle at an insolent child. "No need to get all hostile, I know this is just business for you". He tapped his chin in thought. "Any game right"?
*Don't play dumb. You know the rules.*
"Okay. Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2: Rust. Intervention only."
*Son of a bitch.*
Gary knew he had another ten years coming.
| "Does everyone get a chance like this?" I asked
"No" Death said as it puled a scale from underneath it's cloth. "Only those whose good deeds outhweight the bad ones".
The scale was empty yet tilted to one side, ever so slightly. "Seems you barely earned it."
No surprises there, I kinda just passed through life minding my own business, occasionally helping someone just to feel better about myself.
"Let's play Chess then" I decided. Neither of us can cheat in that game, besides Death is probably the better cheater.
"A wise call" Death smiled pulling a beautiful ebony board from his robes. "I think black suits me better" it said and gave me the white pieces.
"So... How long have you been here... I mean, doing this job" I move a pawn.
"Since the birth of the universe... and till the end of it" Death blocks my pawn.
"Do you work for God, or the Devil?" I ask and move.
"I am God... And the Devil" he mimics my move again.
"Does that mean..." I couldn't finish the sentence, but made a move.
"Yes, there is no heaven, and there is no hell, only nothingness one isn't even aware of" he answered and ate my pawn.
"I suddenly really want to win..." I said and ate his.
"You might" Death said with odd grin on it's face. He solidified his defence.
"Did you ever lose?" I asked and made a threat.
"Oh, a few times... But rarely in chess" he fills the gap in his defence.
"So... What is the meaning of life?" I ate a pawn.
"Death... Or rather, the fear of it" he ate back.
"I see... Well, you aren't really that scarry" I eat back.
"People fear what they do not know, so now you have nothing to fear anymore" he ate again.
"Does it get lonely?" I said and ate again "Check."
"No, I met everyone that ever was and I will greet everyone that will be". Death blocks the Check with another pawn.
"If I win, I won't remember this, right?" I attack from a different angle, check.
"You might remember fragments, something else entirely, or nothing at all" Death moves, eats the attacker. "That is, if you win, check"
"Do dogs get a chance like this?" I block the attack with a pawn.
"Yes, but they always lose, cats on the other hand..." He ate the defender. "Check"
"Once I win, do I get exactly 10 years or at least 10? Also, can I get 10 more next time?" I eat his attacker.
"At least 10 and yes, if you remain good. But it doesn't look like you will win this one" he attacked from a different angle "Check".
"Looks can be decieving" I move a figure, eat his attacker "Check"
"They truly can be" he moves "Checkmate".
| 2018-03-07T07:52:34 | 2018-03-07T07:49:29 | 41 | 24 |
[WP]"This is how it works," Death explained. "You pick the game and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you'll wake up back in the hospital and I'll give you another 10 years. If you lose then it's time for judgement. Understood? | "Okay. Do you want to be purple, or green?"
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND."
"Well, the purple one turns into a fairy, so I used like her best. But I also like the green one because she turns into a mermaid. I like both, so you can pick."
"YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE A GAME."
"I am. Dolls. Are we going to play?"
"HOW DO YOU WIN?"
"You don't. You just play."
"ARE YOU SURE YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU COULD CHOOSE ANOTHER GAME."
"I'm sure. I don't want to keep fighting. I used to want to, but it's taking so long and it hurts so much. I don't want to hurt anymore. So, no thank you."
"THE GREEN ONE, THEN." | I look at the game’s Death has surrounding the room.
There’s the ornate antique marble chess board, polished to a gleam with ivory and ebony pieces.
In stark contrast, right next to that there’s a well loved and worn checkerboard. It has obviously faded areas where players over the years slid their pieces over the board, rather than picking them up and placing them.
There are also many branded board games: Battleship, Connect Four, Monopoly, and *shit, is that...* ***Candy Land*** ?
There are some more modern ones that I’ve only heard of, but never played, like Settlers of Catan.
There are also a glut of various card games, like Uno, Magic of the Gathering, and even *Pokémon*!
Of course there’s also a deck of regular cards set out, and they’re somehow both a void of boundless incomprehensible black like a black hole in which no light can escape on the backs, and a ghastly bone white on the front.
The clubs and spades are more of the depthless black. The hearts and diamonds are glistening blood red.
I am intrigued.
“Go Fish.”, I say.
Death nods.
I think several times about cheating and not telling Death when I have I card, but I know I have a poor poker face. Even when cheating is aloud in the rules, I still can’t bring myself to do it.
Death, sets down four fours, then the aces, then tens. I was only putting down about one set to every three that Death was managing. I was going to lose.
The last sets were made, and there was no need to count them, I was so far behind.
My stomach sunk to my knees.
Death smiled, “You passed the test.”
I blanched, “How so? I lost!”
“You didn’t cheat. The test was whether or not you cheat, win or lose, you pass the test when you decide not to cheat.”
The next thing I know, I blearily wake up to the steady sound of a hospital heart monitor.
-fin
Edit: formatting, again | 2018-03-07T08:33:18 | 2018-03-07T07:49:56 | 20 | 10 |
[WP] “Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.” | "Charge men! For the emperor!"
At the commander's orders every single man and woman leapt from their foxhole with their bayonets affixed. The xenos firing line stared at each other confused for a second before shrugging and unleashing a volley of pulse rounds into the oncoming horde of brace humans. Some charged with fearlessness of their enemy but most charged with fear of their superior. To the alien's weapons the guardsmen may as well have been wearing especially heavy tissue paper for all the protection it gave them. The ones in the front dropped like rag dolls releasing bloody screams as the tau weapons fire ripped apart their internal organs. However still the troopers marched over their comerades corpses to continue the charge intent on reaching their targets.
Even the colossal battle suits of the tau fire caste were horribly under equipped for melee combat. Their unwieldy weapons were unable to hit the mass of soldiers at their legs harassing them until the chain bayonets ripped away enough of the machinery to render the xenos contraption unusable. Afterwards the fire warrior infantry stood no chance against the rabid soldiers stabbing their way through the lines of alien units.
When the final tau rifleman was gutted by the exhausted exposable soldiers there was maybe a tenth of the original army left on their feet, surrounded by dead or dying allies. Most of them didn't stay on their feet for long either falling to the ground from exhaustion or going to their knees to thank the god emperor for not only their survival, but for their glorious victory against the foul aliens. It was a scene of bravery and piety that would go down in imperial history for countless millennia.
Of course, while all those fucking morons charged face first into anti infantry weapons I hid myself in the fortresses latrine and waited for the battle to be over while I ate from a can of beans I stole from the platoon chef. The commissar can kiss my ass. | *Tranquil Bar*
On the first glance, it's just a normal casual bar. People sitting around after work, drinking alcohol and chatting, maybe playing a game of pool or cards in the back. But the real bar is the one situated below, in the basement. But this bar isn't the same as the one above. It doesn't sell alcohol, but special cards. Cards that only members can scan and read the info encrypted inside it. And what's the info in it, you asked? Usually a name, an address and a request. Whoever's on it will not have a very good time.
You must have a pretty good idea what kind of bar this is. It's not just a bar for normal people. It's also a kind of a safe haven for mercenaries and assassins. The kind of people that you don't ever want to cross path with. Each mercenary or assassin would have to pay a monthly fee to keep being a member. But the benefit is that they will have a steady stream of work available. The bar get a cut from each verified card - cards that have been fulfilled and verified by a staff member - and the rest would be cash out or transfer to the mercenary.
The number of the members are a close kept secret of the bar. But most people who frequented the place for work are all familiar with one old man named "Lion." No one really know his real name, but everyone call him Lion. There are multiple stories about him, but no one know if any of them have even a sliver of truth to it. One story even told that he got the nickname "Lion" because he shouted someone to death. If you were to asked Lion himself, he'd just smirk and change the subject. The fact that the guy has possibly a hundred tales to him isn't the most impressive one, but it's the fact that he's the only merc I've known that lives to be his age. In this business, you'll get a bullet or two sooner or later. That's why most of us are just young fools with too much to drink and too little to care about that accepted this dangerous path in life. You will almost never see an old man doing these kind of jobs. There were few desperate enough, but most of them never came back for seconds, or came back at all. But Lion is different, he would accepted a card, fulfilled it and came back for more. Some suspected that a group of people hired him so that they don't have to pay the monthly fee for membership of the bar. But that was proven to be false.
And so, the old man became a special kind of legend. He'd showed up after a job, bandaged and wounded, yet he's still there for more. He only works with people he knew a long time, but every regulars here respected him. Rarely do we see new guys sticking around here after a job or two. But not Lion, not the old man whom always around, always ready for another job. That old man really reminds me of an old saying:
"Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.” | 2018-07-15T09:51:07 | 2018-07-15T08:11:37 | 63 | 18 |
[WP] You live a good life. Caring wife, obedient children and loyal dogs. Little do they know that you are actually a hitman not an accountant. One day your guy hands you the picture of your next target. It’s you. On the back the name of who ordered the hit. “Carla” it says. Your wife. | "You fucking arsehole! Is this some kind of joke?" I yell angrily. Jones has obviously seen me like this, and barely bats an eyelid at my outburst.
"Not at all," he replies, shaking his head.
"Well fuck."
I turn the picture back over, away from my wife's name and back to my face, smirking back at me, almost on purpose.
"Give me the order," I growl.
"Trust me, you don't want to see it."
BANG, the table jumps as I slam my fist upon it. "DAMNIT JONES! This is my LIFE we're talking about here."
He sighs, and passes it to me. It's obvious he planned to give it to me all along. I read.
*I just can't take it any more. It's been 15 years and he hasn't changed. I hoped that if I were the perfect loving wife that he would give up his other women and just stay with me. But he's at it again. I found the plane ticket stub in his shoe. If he won't stop cheating on me, then it's over. It hurts too much. Just make it painless. The life insurance will cover it.*
I sigh and shake my head. I never knew that she knew about my trips. I was so careful, not even the FBI knew I existed, but I guess when you are so close with someone, it's impossible to keep a secret.
I turn to Jones. "Why you though?"
He shrugs and replies, "I think it's just a coincidence. After all, she thinks you are cheating on her. Kinda lucky though, because if it was anyone else you would probably already be in a coffin by now."
I pause, trying to figure it all out and take it all in.
Jones breaks the silence, "Go home man, there's nothing more you can do today."
I look up at him, "But what do I do?"
He just shakes his head at me, "You'll figure it out, you always do."
The drive home is one of the longest of my life. MY heart is beating slowly in my chest, each thump feeling like impending death. Thoughts of our happy life together run through my head, from raising our boys from a couple of wee babies all the way up into college students. Only a year apart in age, they went to the same college and still remain close friends. We really did have the idyllic life, the classic 2 kids and a dog with a white picket fence. The only dark shadow is the sordid way I had to earn such money to maintain the lifestyle. I love to joke with Carla that my job was all point and click, but the truth is instead of spreadsheets it was triggers. For only a days work I could earn a month's salary, as long as I was very careful and never got caught. Even an accountant wasn't as meticulous as I was. A flight stub of all things to give me away, somehow ending up in one of my shoes, perhaps at the last hotel I stayed at. How many times did she ring my 'work' just to be told that I wasn't currently there? Did she hire a private investigator to follow me? I would never know.
I finally pull into the carport, door lowering behind my car as I turn it off. I breathe one more sigh and put on my happy face for Carla. I steel my nerves and step through the kitchen door.
"Hi sweetie!" she greets me with a smile and a kiss. I go to gaze into her eyes but she looks away, unfortunately not before I can see the pain in them, the slight red from where she had been crying. I could always see the small details that would betray someone's emotions, but for Carla I couldn't tell if I'd been blind or if the signs were there all along. Was Carla really hiding her pain so deep down that I couldn't see it, or did I just ignore it for my own sake?
Our evening continues with surface pleasantries and polite conversation. We watch our shows and retire to bed. By the time I fall asleep I've formulated a plan, a holiday, a secret recommitment to the woman I love. It has to work, for both of us.
Finally on holiday I can relax. We have a perfect dinner and watch the sun go down together. It's picturesque. But I can tell that there's something still eating away at Carla. I move to break the silence when my phone rings, it's Jones.
"Excuse me a second," I politely say as I slip outside. "Jones. What's up?"
"Just checking in with you, making sure everything is A-OK." he replies.
"Everything is perfect, now buzz off, I'm not working for the next two weeks. Send me a text, but only if it's an emergency."
"Understood. Talk to you later," Jones hangs up.
As I step back into the room I realise I've made a mistake, clear as the anger on Carla's beautiful face.
"Who was that?" Carla asks, her tone short and clipped.
"Umm, work. I told them to speak to Frank," I reply, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Oh really? Show me your phone."
"Please honey, you have nothing to be worried about."
"You think I shouldn't be worried about something. Show me your phone."
Damn, poor choice of words. I know that if I resist it will get worse, so I pass my phone to her, unlocked. She scrolls through the recent calls and checks my contacts. I'm trying to make sure she doesn't find anything out of the ordinary, but without seeming too interested. It's a delicate act.
"So, who is Jones? Can't use first names? Is she one of your hussies?!?" she angrily accuses. I wince at the tone, and remember that I married her for her brilliance as well as her beauty.
"N .. n .. noo," I stammer. My nerves have stood up to sighting in storms and hours spent in wait, but it can't stand up to the harsh tone of Carla.
"Fine, I'll call this Jones person."
I freeze. I'm stuck. My mind races. I could let her call my guy and potentially have a disaster on my hands, or I could intervene and lose her trust forever. I realise the latter would be a definite end for our marriage, but at least the former might have a small chance of working. My silence just encourages Carla, she presses redial. Jones answers.
"Ah, that was quick. So bored already and want some excitement already? I can hook you up."
Jones, you fucking idiot. | I'm comfortably sunk in the worn leather seats of my older-but-still-practical German sedan. The lid on my morning coffee is propped open and I watch anxiously as the piping hot liquid inside the flimsy paper cup that holds the best coffee the road has to offer topples, getting closer and closer to the brim of the cup as road worsens the closer I get to Los Angeles. Before the coffee has sufficiently cooled to the point I can put the lid back on, the first drop of Seattle's Best makes its journey to the base of the most practical pull-out cupholder BMW could think of in 2008. At this point the air-conditioning is just not strong enough to withstand Southern California's ever-so-powerful UV rays beaming in from the windows and cool a way-too-hot cup of bad coffee with the lid intact, so this is a necessary evil.
Financial freedom and no more necessary business trips for Deloitte? Or cooler coffee and an incarcerated father that can even be more absent to his children that he currently is? What would your choice be?
The cruise control is set at 75 MPH, fast enough to blend in but not fast enough to catch the attention of the police. The lull of the road in combination with the fatigue of driving what has now been seven hours can allow even a hitman to fall into a sense of apathy for a little while. Thoughts of what I can cook up for our fifth anniversary are on the horizon. Hawaii? Unfortunately it is easiest to catch someone off-guard when they are on vacation. The Caribbean? Same idea. Europe? Was there last week and unfortunately it wasn't for leisure. Southeast Asia? Haven't done anything in Thailand yet so that's still on the table.
As I contemplate my anniversary and have thoughts that might not be particularly unique to a hitman, I creep up bit by bit in the rightmost lane and find my exit, "Sawtelle Boulevard". Tito's Taco's seems to be the place of choice for providing sound business advice to yet another multimillion dollar tech-startup. Guess us millennials are getting less and less formal with our lunches. Guess it's the advice that matters, not the venue.
As I push my door closed and walk into the establishment, everything is a blur. Uncle X walks by my table for one, plops down a picture and continues his walk without even seeming to acknowledge my presence. My phone vibrates. I turn it over and see a picture of Carla, Stella, Tyler and Rufus by the house that I took. It's Carla. I don't even look at the picture and pick up the phone. I can't bare the anticipation of personifying the last person behind the last portrait I will ever see and beginning the last process of dehumanization before I am able to live the rest of my life and focus on raising our family, so I try and hurry the last dishonest interaction regarding my career I will ever have with the person that thinks they know the most about me.
"Hey what's up? I'm on my way into a meeting and don't really have the time to talk so can you make it quick babe?" I blurt out not even giving her a chance to start the diologue.
"Yeah......... Well.... I just couldn't wait". She says, before a long pause and a sniffle.
My heart drops.
"We might just have another addition to the family! I didn't get my period this month and decided to take a test! So yeah! Guess what it came up as!"
My head drops. My heart starts to race and so does my breathing. It's fascinating how some things can make a man can crack a smile right before setting off to take a life of yet another person that hasn't personally wronged them one bit.
"Wow. I'm so happy to hear that and cannot wait to talk about this tonight. And we can do this one together too! It's so crazy that we happen to be in the same place this time!" I say, not having to fake happiness for once during an inopportune conversation with the SO but actually feeling it for a split second.
"Yeah! Anyway, I love you! Hopefully that lightens your day!" she says, the emotions eminating through the phone speaker.
The line cuts. I place my phone down on the greasy table and raise the picture to my field of vision.
Of course the last task has to be the hardest one. This woman looks just like my wife.
I can see she has mesmerizing blue eyes that could charm a stone and focus the freest of spirits. A small, effiminate nose. Plump lips that meet perfectly at the top like a cupid's bow, lips parted in a way that makes me wait for speech that will never come. Sun-kissed skin that suggest an childhood in a warm climate and perhaps the later years somewhere cooler. I imagine a modest home, two children and a golden retriever adopted from the local animal shelter. Before that, just two young adults having passionate yet lustful, raw, rough sex after a night stocked up on the kind of three dollar shots sold by a bar that would accept what would have to be the worst Fake IDs San Fransisco State has ever seen. An intense, exciting, painful relationship that leaves both parties integrated and makes each other grow more than any degree could. But not safeguarded from some time apart after graduation so we could find our own paths........... only to get back together for coffee one day.
Stop it. Stop the connection. This one cant get to you. Just flip the fucking picture over and get the full name. Fucking Christ.
"CARLA"
Fuck. That asshole wouldn't make me leave the business. The minute I find a number that I can comfortable rely on to retire early and try to get him to come to terms, I get this. Of course. Guess I'm not leaving. Or maybe I am. It's not like I can't pack up and start over again. At least I won't have to hide a life of criminality from my new family.
Guess the good things in life come with a clause. It's just that this one happens to be particularly tenacious.
I finish the last bite of my Chicken Tamale and get up calmly. Stretch and walk out the door, quickening my pace. I spot Uncle X. Perhaps I should have a couple words with him about this? No. He knows what he did. I hop in the car, release the handbrake and coast out of the parking spot, turning on the engine and putting the car into first gear only as the sedan is already backed out of the parking space that is now perpendicular to where I sit. I keep my vision fixed on Uncle X. The engine bogs and I lurch foward.
Fuck. Come on, focus you idiot. 15 years of exclusively manual and this?
I restart the car and head for the exit. I hit the accelerator and skip to third, ensuring high speeds and little noise. I reach into the nook in my car door and feel for cold metal. I grasp the first object I find, roll down the window with the other hand and the vehicle veers to the right. I stare at Uncle X and fall into a trance an eternity. I point the gun out the window and pull the trigger before the car veers too far right to have a proper aim. Uncle X drops to the ground. The gun cocks back and injures my nose. My eyes water and before I can refocus, there is impact.
I wake up after what seems like years of sleep and cough a mouthful of warm blood. Look up to a misty window and dust settling on my forehead and the hood of my car at a 90 degree angle. As I wrestle the door handle to free myself and clock out for the last time, the tables turn and now I am staring down the barrel of a gun of a man. I angle my head up and notice "San Fransisco Police Dept." and see a man in uniform. | 2018-08-15T00:50:32 | 2018-08-14T22:17:00 | 1,283 | 11 |
[WP] You are a vampire. You have a weakness to true faith, which manifests as a blinding aura around the rare individuals who possess it. You been watching a certain human for weeks trying to figure out what they have faith in, it certainly isn't any religion. | Been a very long time since I've written anything. Lets try this out. Comments and criticism welcome.
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Most people don't have faith. It was the unfortunate fact of the modern age, and it was a blessing for things like me.
I should back up here.
I am a vampire. The weaknesses that you have always heard about, the garlic, the holy water, and the symbols of faith stopped working on us over a century ago. I liked to think that there was a god -or perhaps the God- who decided to play a trick on the unfaithful. Dumb bastard never stopped to wonder if his flock was among them or not.
Its rare to see people of faith. When you do see them its usually that impossibly holy person who went out and did *work* out in the world. They didn't spread the word of their gods, they just did good deeds and hoped that faith spread from that. I've met a few in the past, and they shined bright enough to be somewhat uncomfortable for someone like me to be around.
They've mostly died out a long time ago. I blame the internet.
Those literal saints also didn't hold a candle to the atheist I was currently stalking. At least I assumed she was an atheist. Never saw her enter a church or pray, and I've been watching for quite a while. You also don't normally see worshipers of most religions dress like the old, cool, Hot Topic.
It was a phase. I regret nothing.
I floated across the night sky, watching as she fearlessly performed her routine walk across the bad parts of town. Eventually she was accosted, and as usual I watched to try and glean some understanding of her faith. I was grasping at straws. Desperately hoping she would shout out the name of *something.* She had to have faith in some obscure deity, some pagan spirit, or at least something as mundane as a boyfriend.
She didn't do anything. She merely scanned the night sky with a complete disregard to the danger in front of her. Well, I wasn't going to have this mystery disappear on me before I could figure it out, so I reached out with my will and sent those accosting her to the land of dreams. With a sigh I dropped down to an alleyway, at least I would feed so the night wouldn't be completely wasted. I just had to wait for my mystery to continue her walk as she usually did when I saved her on my quest to figure out her damn faith.
Don't worry little brigands, I'll rescue you from Oneiros and all you'll have to do is provide me with a bite. To eat, being the joke.
I chuckled as my feet touched the dirty paveme-
A sound.
I twisted to force my will on the person who had seen me, but the bright light of faith burned the tendrils of my might away. I stumbled, the light pressing against me like a physical force, searing me to the bone. "You are real!" my mystery said, her voice quiet in awe. The words pressed little bits of her faith through whatever hasty defense I tried to assemble.
"I told everyone about you! I knew that you had to be real, and after everything that's happened I finally get to thank you," she said, gaining strength. She spoke with an almost religious rapture, and as the words penetrated the haze of pain I finally understood.
I'd seen her before, when she was young, a child, before they got old enough to fill the stomach. A man had dragged her into an alleyway and was pressing her against the wall. At the time I remembered thinking that it was so convenient when food went to the nice secluded alleyway without me pressuring them. I had only dragged the man away from her before feeding because it felt oddly weird to eat in front of humans. It was like having a dog or cat stare at you when you were trying to eat a particularly good steak.
I had thought that someone of her age would have forgotten me eventually.
I interrupted her babbling with laughter. As the light burned me away I lifted a hand to point at her, the black clothing, the pale makeup, and the accessories that use to make Hot Topic seem like that edgy store at the mall all those years ago.
​
"It was only a phase," I managed to choke out, before the light burned me away. | Darkness is a comfort.
That is not unusual for the Blooded, but I think it began before I was set upon the Path. There are memories, distant and faded, of a time when I could walk beneath the sun. I remember the harsh glare, the unbearable heat of my skin curdling beneath its pounding presence. I do not miss the sun, nor do I miss the life I once had.
Long have I walked, enjoying the fruits of the Path, gaining powers beyond the imagining of my lessers. Seen becomes unseen. Shadow becomes ally. Will becomes overpowering.
But a long journey has its costs. Tolls that must be paid along the way. Weaknesses that grow and fester, unchecked.
I can see the Faithful now. This is a new thing. An aversion has become an allergy. The Holy and the Sacrosanct have long been anathema to my kind, but the creatures of faith were but a nuisance. As I am given over to the dark, their light cannot help but manifest. They glare with the brilliance of the sun, shining forth with pure intent.
I am thankful for their rarity. For every hundred hundred pitiful creatures clutching cross or trinket, perhaps only a single keeps to True Faith. Many claim a connection to the Holy, but so very few conduct themselves in a way to gain the boon of the Faithful.
I cannot feed upon them. They are barred to me. A price I have paid for my progress along the Path.
But I still mark their presence, burning each into my memory so that I might be aware of their machinations. I am beyond stake and silver, immunized by the blood of a countless mass, but I am not beyond the Faithful. Their very sight unnerves and saps me, draining me of the strength I have so carefully cultivated.
My observations have paid dividends. The Faithful follow a pattern. Each bears a connection to the Holy, established deep in their heart and reinforced by the piety of slavish subjugation to the Holy's dictates. They do not venture to the places of questionable reputation. They do not take to the night. They keep to their temples and homes on the High Days, refraining from the lusty spectacle of celebration.
I know these patterns, and I adapt. I am aware of their goings on but they are not aware of mine. When a denizen of their hamlet disappears into the night, they cross themselves and whisper a prayer. They do not seek me out. I can grow unchallenged, feasting upon those who have lost the light.
This town should have been no different. Nameless and forgotten, it was like the many which had come before it. A few simple streets, a tidy chapel and a bawdy house or three. Small enough that there might not even be a Faithful.
But there was.
It was an unexpected encounter. Sudden and surprising. Through means and methods unknown, he was within my sight before I was aware of him. Present in a proximity most distressing. The burning aura seared my being, consuming my reservoirs of power and preventing flight to the shadows.
I was held, forced to meet the gaze of one of the Faithful.
"Hullo," he said, nodding in my direction. His clothing was simple but neatly tailored. Small travel stains dappled the soft cloth of his tunic, though it looked little worse for the wear.
I could not help but stare, unable to peel my eyes from the burning intensity. He carried no token of faith, no symbol of the faith he carried in his heart.
He let the stare linger for a moment before his eyes shifted from mine, offering a shrug. "Nice evening, in'it?" He stamped his feet, "A perfect night for a stroll."
The aura subsided some once his eyes shifted, unmooring me from its terrible power. I stole the shortest of gasps, letting the cool air fill my lungs. It had been long since I had spoken the low language, and I found my tongue quite unfit to the task. All I could do was force a nod, hoping the creature would be compelled to leave.
But no.
He turned and looked back at me, "I wondered when you would arrive. I have been expecting it for some time."
I could only blink.
"It has been some time since one has walked as far as you. The Path is quite treacherous." His eyes had a glint to them now, hardening around the edges.
My breath came out in a low hiss, whistling around long incisors. The image of the man burned brighter, scalding my soul.
"Your path has reached its final destination. I give you this one chance to turn back. To return along the way you have come. To undo what you have done." He took a step closer, great swirls of brilliant white flashing about him like a hurricane. He held up a single finger. "One chance."
I focused my will, trying desperately to deflect the whorls of faith assaulting me, struggling to formulate a response. Finally, I gasped a single word. "Faithful."
His eyes softened momentarily, a rumbling wave of emotion sweeping over them before the flinty exterior was restored. "No. Not anymore." He dropped his voice now, "Many a path has ended with me Blooded, and many more will after yours. Rejoin the light or meet your abyss."
He leveled a final stare at me and then turned and ambled away. It was only after he had rounded the bend that my faculties returned to me. My strength slowly rekindled, a small fire drawing from precious little fuel.
I had gone too far to turn from the Path. The powers were mine and I would not abandon them.
But there could be no doubt: a new obstacle blocked my progress forward.
He followed no pattern. He knew the dark even as he walked in the light.
Faithless but among the Faithful.
Granted the Boon of the Holy, but not walking in the light.
Who was this man?
**Platypus OUT**
**Want MOAR peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus | 2019-04-25T23:08:16 | 2019-04-25T22:26:08 | 156 | 36 |
[WP] You have the ability to see a few seconds into the future when you are in danger. You joined the army and became a captain. You are out on patrol when you notice one of your men getting a transmission you don’t receive. You then see your men shooting you in the back a few seconds later. | We walked in a column, two abreast. The forest was always dark, even in the middle of the day. The light hit boughs and leaves and vines for 200 metres above us, with the occasional shaft breaching through them to reach the ground level. It made the place empty and full all at once - a twilight uneasiness punctuated with the cries and chitters of the mega-continent's fauna.
I'd hated it immediately. The place was such a backwater it didn't even have an official designation.
I grew up on Felix 3 - idyllic, an 'Eden World', in the classification of the Wider Earth Dominion. Agrarian meadows and gentile people nothing like the sweaty, half-blind rebels that crawled along the forest floor in their hovels and burrows.
Still, there was a reason I'd signed up for the Corps.
My ability.
It wasn't revolutionary, or even that useful - just something I could do. Precognition, I guess. My limit was about 30 seconds ahead, standard Earth time, but it all came in one lump vision.
It used to help me with tests in school. Just before the teacher would shut off our tablets, I'd be furiously scribbling, having heard the chatter of the kids around me just ahead.
Of course, that didn't mean the answers were always right, but I got good at choosing seats. *That* meant they were right enough to give me decent grades - enough to enlist in Officer's training and jump off to the training planets. Some meat for the grinder; a kid for the beast.
New officer, dangerous planet. Old story. My squad made sure that I remembered - Callisto especially, tough bastard. He was 15 years in the Corps and didn't appreciate anything but blood spilled and hours walked. Then there was Corporal Hennson - one tour, unblooded; Private Trevalny - green as grass, like me; Six - our medic & his real name, he insisted; and, finally, Anders - the only woman on our squad. Quiet. She never liked me, but she kept her distance from the rest of the squad too. Strange one.
We unhappy few marched through the undergrowth, Trevalny and I at the head of the column. Somewhere ahead of us was the transponder of a crashed ornithopter. The beacon pulsed on my visor - 3km and closing.
We knew the crew was probably dead, scoured by the rebels as soon as they hit the ground, but we pressed on all the same. Trevalny swore next to me as he smashed an insect with a thorax the size of a lemon. No one spoke - we were all afraid of swallowing something nasty.
Something flashed in my brain, hot and angry. I stopped, raising my fist to signal the others. The visions always warned me, thankfully enough. I felt my eyes turn to the back of my head, and the vision unspooled like a roll of film.
A shaft of light - a pinprick coming through the leaves. Trevalny and I walking, then just me. I turn. The squad look at each other, unsure. I turn back around, thinking they've seen something I haven't.
The first round hits me in the back, and I crumple, twisting. Callisto has shot me, I see. The others hesitate, and he barks at them to fire.
Trevalny raises his rifle.
My mind pulls me back to the present. The world seems still.
Trevalny is looking at me, wide-eyed. He makes the 'OK?' sign with his thumb and forefinger. I stare back at him blankly.
Fucking shit. Fuck.
My training kicks into gear, and the paralysis leaves me. I see my body moving without my control. Me or them, me or them. Lowering my fist, I, gesture the squad forward.
I drop to the back of the pack.
We walk for a second. On my left, a tiny circle of light hits the ground. It's real. It's real.
I stop, letting them get a little bit ahead. I raise my rifle, switching it to a 3 round burst, and flip off my anti-friendly fire protocol.
The first shots hit Callisto centre-mass. The next burst is for Six. They crumple. I switch targets to Trevalny. His rifle is trained upwards, looking for non-existent rebels ahead of us. He falls. Hennson manages to turn, bearing his rifle on me. I drop him as he squeezes off a round, hitting a tree to the left of me. Last one, last one.
Anders is gone. I sweep a 180° arc ahead of me. She's vanished, somewhere.
You need to leave, my brain tells me. You need to leave. I push past the bodies of my squad, rifle ready. Trevalny has his eyes open, but he's choking on blood. Blue eyes, looking through me. Blue and red and green all together, down on the ground.
I can hear their earbuds crackling an order as I push into the undergrowth.
-----
Thinking about an Anders POV part 2. Tell me if y'all like it as I've got some good Saturday time to burn.
/r/Robin_Redbreast | Six years in. Six to go.
Twelve was a long while to spend on the front lines, and the footies got the worst of it. Rumor was that the survivor rate had dropped to 13% on the last census. Not much room for optimism when you were in the slop, but that was how wars were supposed to work, weren't they?
Us or them. With a bit of luck, maybe just enough of us to rebuild when it was all over.
Lieutenant Dawkins took a long pull on his joint, the thick plume of smoke curling lazily out of his mouth as he looked over the craters in the valley below. "They say we lost Inner Perseus." He exhaled now, the exasperation bleeding in. "When we gonna hit 'em back?"
I shrugged, my mind only half there as I ran a status check on my gear. The visual overlay was a sea of blinking red. Low ammo. Low stim. Low armor. Low chance of making it off of this pile of slag. All this time stomping through the galaxy and I was gonna die on some rock no one had ever heard of. Wasn't anything but a few listeners and a star peeper. Not worth what we'd lost.
"Cap, what the hell are we doing out here?"
"Our job, Lieutenant." Immediately a flash appeared in my mind, an image of the joint sailing through the air on a trajectory with my head. Just as soon as I'd processed the vision, Dawkins was already making to flick it my way, a sour look on his face. I jerked my head back, the joint sailing by.
Dawkins grunted. "I'll get you one of these days Cap."
I chuckled, "Gonna have to get faster than that Dawk." A lot faster. Faster than time. Faster than my ability to peek into what was coming. Couldn't say how I got it, just know that it'd come on after I'd signed on the dotted line with the Force Humanus. The gift, or whatever it was. I heard some whispers here and there about others out there like me, though that was the extent of it. I guess I was all of the livin' breathin' proof I needed that it was real. It'd saved my hide, and more than a few of my men's, on more than one occasion.
Captain Clover.
Sometimes Four-Leaf. Occasionally Leafy. They could call me whatever they wanted so long as they followed orders and made the right scrapes and grunts when someone from up top came around. All I cared is that we were lucky. Or so they thought. I was content to let it stay at that, I didn't need no one from command prying my brain open to see how it worked.
Just needed to hold out for another six and I was done. Free and clear with a full exoneration. Finally unburdened of the heinous crime of being born to a shit family on a shit planet.
The Lieutenant had gone silent again. It was his default state these days. The last few hops had taken a lot out of him. We'd lost too many fighting for too little. No one even knew what we were in it for anymore. It used to be about surviving. About keeping humanity on the map. At least that was what they'd said.
Hard to match that up with the reality of things. Hard to say it was about survival when we were fighting on the ass-end of no where over a few listeners and a peeper. But I couldn't tell Dawk that. He'd had enough without me piling it on. "Least we got two blips before we got to move out."
Two blips. A tiny taste of respite after four months of brutal hell pacifying wherever the hell they were. The work was only half done. We'd be hopping to the next continent over soon enough. Apparently, the baddies had dug in deep. Built out a full cluster, which meant we'd be bushwacking with flashlights and glasbeams. Maybe the uppity ups would bother to hand out a restock before dropping us back in. Maybe.
"Comm has been quiet. I sent them up the sectional report and it's been static since." I'd taken care with the report, trying to find ways to explain our miraculous survival. More and more it felt like Comm was just trying to get us killed. We'd been ordered further and further out into the hostile lands and given less and less to make do with. I guess suicide was just par for the course.
All that was left was the husk at this point. The men had been hollowed out by the hell. Dawk had carried it the best he could, but he was getting the stares more and more. The dull blank look a man got when we had seen too much, done too much, and survived for too damn long.
"Keep your head on Dawk. Can't be this bad forever." Can't it? Eighty-seven out of a hundred pushing up daisies said otherwise. But I kept it quiet. I had gifts. I'd get him through, if it was the last thing I did. "I'll let you know when Comm gives us the word." I pushed the stool out from under me and came to a stand, moving toward Dawk to give him a supporting clap on the back.
A flash.
Another vision. I went alert, expecting a baddie to be inbound. But it wasn't. It was a picture of Dawk tapping his earlink and getting a buzz-in from someone up top. He flinched, and let loose a curse word. He turned and looked at me. Sorrow in his eyes. "Sorry Cap." The gun came up and it went black.
I came back to reality, sweat on my brow. Dawk's hand was moving up to his ear, beginning to bring the future into reality. I snarled, yanking my glasbeam out and bring it to bear on Dawk, his back to me. He pulled the message down. He flinched. He cursed. He turned, reaching for his gun, only to see me.
"Like I said Dawk, you'll have to get a lot faster."
He stared at me, a flash of surprise that faded to dead exhaustion. "Got an order." He raised his hands.
"Yeah?"
A slow shrug, "Yeah Leaf."
"What they'd want?" I replied.
"You."
"What they'd offer?" I asked.
"The six."
**Platypus OUT.**
**Want MOAR peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus | 2019-06-07T20:04:14 | 2019-06-07T19:54:26 | 256 | 93 |
[WP] Every 13,000,000,000 years, the universe collapses and then reforms again. Everything occurs exactly the same as it had before, and humankind always meets its apocalypse on January 1st, 3000. You were just born - and yet, have retained all the knowledge of your previous life. You remember. | There was a time when I would look at the night sky with wonder, and awe, questioning my place amongst the ever-stretching cosmos in its vast loneliness. Naomi, the woman of my dreams, would lie in the grass of a hill outside our home and stare with me.
"Do you think the stars are lonely?" she once asked, touching her fingertips to mine.
I didn't know how to respond. Stars don't feel anything, but at the same time, they're scattered throughout an uncaring universe, doomed to fight and fight until there's nothing left but an explosion that sets the heavens alight for a little while.
Would that I could go back and tell her the truth.
The stars are not lonely. They burn for us, and we burn for them, in a cycle that never ends as the universe spends billions of years stretching and searching, all of its bits and pieces looking for something that doesn't quite make sense. When we'd look at the night sky, blotted with stars thousands of light years away, it was a moment of connection. An understanding between two beings on the same path, just on different scales.
I see it everywhere, now that I've been reborn in this newest iteration. The confusion, the despair, the wonder and fright and feeling that there must be something bigger than us. We can't be alone, this can't all be for nothing. Some fill this hole in the soul with religion, or alcohol, or whatever else makes them forget that it's there--but it's *always* there. It will always be there, because we are more than ourselves. We are the pieces of a whole, a shattered puzzle, out of place anywhere we roam.
When I look at the night sky, now, I no longer wonder. Naomi, I can finally answer your question, wherever your matter has been scattered.
But you already know it, don't you? Because for an infinite moment, the universe became whole again, compacted into a singularity that is the closest thing to heaven we'll ever get. It was you, me and the stars all together at last, even though it cannot hold. I hope that once this cycle of turmoil comes to a close, I will still remember our time in utopia.
If only I could tell everyone else that the meaning of life is, simply, to be as one.
That we are Heaven, and these brief flashes of life can be so much more than just the search for ourselves.
----
*/r/resonatingfury* | I was born with a broken heart. Something had changed; everything had changed, and somehow the love of my life had fallen through the cracks. Thankfully the screams in my mind matched the sounds I was capable of making, so my parents never realized.
I was a man with a double memory. Every experience I had, I remembered. I was me, and then I was me again. It made the day to day duties of my life quite easy. Schooling was a breeze, sporting events held no stress, and I never had any social issues - I remembered my place.
But the pain persisted. I had already had all I had ever wanted. My beloved Stephanie. Everything that had happened in my previous life had led me to her, and she gave everything before its meaning and purpose.
Everything this time was playing out the same. But what if it changed? Who was to say what was really going on. Would I find her again? Would I be made whole?
In spite of my tremendous blessing of knowing what was to come, the weight of the unknown still beat me. Sicknesses I didn't *quite* remember started appearing. Stress ulcers from the knot of hope in my stomach ailed me for years.
I carried on. What else could I do? I had nothing else. These years were all meaningless without her the first time around; and they were this time, too.
I started to give up. I was nearly 30. Shouldn't we have met by now? What day was it again. Why would the only change in this re-done universe be the only one I cared about?
But I remembered our vows. I remembered the quote from the fortune cookie she read to me as we became one. "A world without hope is no world at all."
And so I carried on.
Yet again I found myself on the brink. Everything still seemed right...but it was so wrong. All wrong. Tears became my evening companion, and the years still strolled by.
But one night, I found myself out for dinner, trying to remember what I should order. I had to get this right. What if I ordered wrong, and it would change everything? All my life, pushing to make the correct decision again, all to get to a point I wasn't sure was there.
As I began to sweat between the choice of Mongolian Beef or the Sweet and Sour Tofu, I heard a quiet voice waft over from a distant table, reading from her cookie. "A world without hope is no world at all."
I was home.
And meaning returned to my life. All those years of hoping, praying, bargaining, straining, just to find her again...and now I was whole once more.
I spent many years believing I was cursed. Believing I was the object of some cruel joke made by a distant god who enjoyed my suffering. But I couldn't have been more wrong.
I was blessed. Far more than I could have ever dreamed. For I got to live my life with the one who mattered most, all over again.
I can only hope I'll be so blessed to suffer so greatly again, if only to hear he read that cookie one more time.
______________________________________________
Thank you for this prompt. My wife likes to jokingly ask if what I write is about her, but what I usually write is goofy/weird scifi stuff, so I always have to say no. But now I can show her one that *is* about her - so thank you for that.
Check out [r/psalmsandstories](https://www.reddit.com/r/psalmsandstories/) if you'd like to read more *slightly* less sentimental stories. | 2019-07-26T20:39:18 | 2019-07-26T20:10:34 | 1,058 | 186 |
[WP] In your world, magic is wielded by astrologists who form pacts with distant stars. Every star grants a unique power. Upon forming a pact with a star, you gain a glimpse of its worlds and your soul will be pulled to one when your pact ends. You are the first to form a pact with a black hole. | "It is simply a natural progression."
She said it so matter of factly that I couldn't find it within me to argue. And yet my entire understanding of the laws of magic, of the universe, were imploding all around me.
"But you're dead. How...how can we forge a pact if you're dead?" A part of me, perhaps the rational part, was terrified of the answer she would give. Another was nearly paralyzed with anticipation.
The elders, my mother and father among them, cautioned us not to talk to the old stars. That they were too set in their ways and would demand far more than they would ever give. Maybe that logic is why they never talked about communicating with what used to be stars.
"Dying is not the destiny of a star, my little mortal. Only you and your kind are granted such peace. We are eternal. Our bodies may change but it is only so that we may become more powerful. When I was newly forged, I made a pact with one of your kind. A millennium of millennias ago. I offered her a sliver of my power and she went on to rule the lands. What I can offer you now, a sliver still, would be enough to rule everything."
My mouth was dry and my eyes were itching. It was cold atop the mountain but the freezing temperatures were a distant thought, as if a clouded memory of a sleepless winter night were bubbling just below the surface of consciousness. Had my heart always thundered like this in my chest?
"What...what will you ask of me?"
I don't know why I asked that question. Even newly born stars had schemes and motivations far beyond human conception. Surely one that was dead, or at least so ancient as to be believed to be dead, would be that much more obscure.
"I will use you when the time comes. As humans wage war against one another, so do we from time to time. I might some day wish to hold dominion over the other celestials. You will help me in that endeavor."
I couldn't feel my legs any more. Had it always been this cold? My arms felt as if thousands of tiny knives were slowly driving themselves through my flesh. Was I still breathing?
"Can you show me what will happen?" I wheezed the question, finding it harder and harder to breath. She was quiet for a long time.
"Very well."
Light exploded behind my eyes. I soared over the lands as if on the wings of a magnificent bird. Below me, people made pilgrimage to pay homage to their liege. In the distance, a great stepped palace rose over the land, casting shadows in all directions. As we drew closer, I saw myself sitting on a gilded throne with scepter in hand. All bowed before me.
A flash of light caused me to look upward toward Sol, the forbidden star. It burned brighter than I had ever known it to. And yet it felt wrong. It was as if the star were being pulled apart slowly and steadily. When my eyes adjusted I could see her far beyond Sol. I could make out her streams of immense power, lashing at everything around her and drawing it in. She would consume it all.
I found myself gasping, greedily sucking in air as if I had been submerged for too long. My head cleared and the night sky came back into focus. The stars twinkled, millions and millions of lives peacefully drifting across the cosmos. And there she sat. Placidly. Innocently.
"Do you accept my offer?"
"I do, Charybdis." | Rinz snapped out of it, the gathered mages were standing around him looking worried. He knew them all but too well, his classmates of the past few years, he even spotted a few off the high mages among them.
"What happened?" he said.
"Welcome back Mr. Saline," high mage Turoc said to him, responsible for them adopting a parent star. "I haven't lost a student so far and I don't plan on starting anytime soon"
Rinz just looked at him shaking his head "How long was I out?" he asked
"A few hours," someone behind him said.
"Now now," Turoc said "give yourself a minute to let the bond settle and then we will see what we have got"
Rinz looked into himself but he couldn't find anything, all he found was a swirling mess of blacks.
"Come on Rinz get up" A student in red robes said. He vaguely recognized him, Jake, yes that was his name. He had a hard time remembering.
"Look Rinz I got a red dwarf," Jake said " fire" as his eyes twinkled and shone. He remembered him as an often shy boy, but that's what the bonding does, it changes you body and soul.
He got up from the chair he had been slumped in the past few hours and stretched .
"Look Rinz" Jake said playing with a flame, as he was looking at it the flame petered out into a puff of smoke.
Jake looked at his hand and shrugged "well still getting used to it."
"Give him some room," the high mage said.
As people started to drift off now the excitement was over only a handful remained, his friends he figures only he had a hard time remembering.
"Now let's see what we have got" high mage Turoc continued. "as I taught you, reach deep inside you"
Rinz tried but as before he got darkness , just black.
"I don't see anything he said, it's just all black"
"Black? , no black stars" Focus Mr. Saline, focus. perhaps you mean brown, the earth magic, lots of old brown dwarves in the region you were looking at.
"No" Rinz said "its as if there isn't anything, no brown not even black just nothingness".
"That's impossible we all saw the link being formed, focus is it white blue, red or brown?" A few of the other high mages started to drift over.
"Wel Mr. Saline" high mage Turoc once more sid a bit more forcefully. "Try an incantation, focus on your hand"
As he was taught he opened the palm and focused on a point in the middle, his head started to spin, around him candles started to flicker and a small tremor could be felt.
"What's going on?" a voice from behind him said
Rinz opened his eyes and turned around, it was one of the archmages, masters of the dominion. Just his luck, being noticed like this was dreadful.
"Archmage-" Rinz stopped as he couldn't remember his name. His robe was a dark brown so she was earth stone and rock but-
"Archmage Vargas" high make Turoc intervened. "It seems Mr. Saline has trouble with the link"
The archmage looked at him, eyes piercing him. A look of surprise came over her face.
"I sense something but its hard to focus on," the archmage said
"Boy," the archmage said after a brief pause. "Focus deep in yourself, and try and gather all that there is inside you.
Rinz did as he was told trying to gather the darkness but the more he pulled on it the more he could feel it slip away into nothing, a vast emptiness . More tremors made him open his eyes, panicked cries sounded as the floor next to him cracked.
The archmage looked frightened. "the spells" she almost whispered "the castle spells are failing, that's impossible"
Suddenly she looked at Rinz and said "Stop it, Mr. Saline"
Rinz shook his head stop what?
"Stop-" the archmage was interrupted by a huge noise coming from the ceiling, stone started to collapse crushing a mage not far from him.
Stretching out her hands the archmage yelled " Get out, I will hold it as long as possible."
Rinz looked at the archmage as sweat appeared on her brow .
"GET OUT " she yelled "Get Out Now" punctuating every word.
More tremors shook the castle as Rinz fled with the remaining students. As he ran through the castle he had a hard time remembering where he was, a red-robed boy pulled him back "This way !" as he shoved him through a door.
Together they ran as around them the castle started to crumble and fall, his head filled with darkness ready to swallow the world. | 2020-02-21T04:27:44 | 2020-02-21T04:15:24 | 252 | 79 |
[WP] In your world, magic is wielded by astrologists who form pacts with distant stars. Every star grants a unique power. Upon forming a pact with a star, you gain a glimpse of its worlds and your soul will be pulled to one when your pact ends. You are the first to form a pact with a black hole. | "So I'm with a red Supergiant. I gained powers of mass manipulation, heavy metals, that sort of thing. You?"
"I tamed a G-type main sequence, with three life bearing planets. I work with water and life, mostly. Sometimes the solar maximums give me electromagnetics, but that's few and far between. How 'bout you, Jane?"
"Black hole. Supermassive."
"What? But...that's not possible. The Council outlawed anything above the Chandrasekhar Limit centuries ago. The last time somebody tried to form a pact with even a neutron star they immediately died from trying to comprehend degenerate matter. Their death caused an explosion that destroyed half a continent. How did you manage to tame-"
"I didn't tame it. It tamed me."
"...What?"
"When I tried to summon it, I did die. But Black holes aren't stars. They're the eldritch collectives of their corpses, incomprehensible and anathema to all other stars, with the True Void at the singularities."
"Jane...exactly what did you try to summon?"
"Sagittarius A\*. I'm a necromancer now, with the combined experience and knowledge of all the others who have attempted to tame black holes before me. I'm THE Necromancer now." | All around me, people danced and sang and ate and drank. It was a festival, one that had never happened before, and one that I would never see again. It was a celebration of my death.
The makeshift hospital bed was placed on the amphitheater stage, and I layed there awaiting the end. I lifted a weary finger and my nurse gave me some water. The coolness trickled down my parched throat, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the emptiness I felt within me. Still, I smiled at her in thanks. She was a sweet thing, with gentle eyes and a warmth that flowed from her hands. She had made a pact with Vega, the pure white star that shined from Lyra. Her healing powers were strong, but nothing could stop death. I was the only one who could do that.
The revelers continued their boisterous antics. Power performers played with rings of fire or showered snow upon unsuspecting attendees. Others shared drafts of ale that only the power of the stars could concoct. For them it was a great day. The day that death would return. Because of me, they had been trapped on Earth, unable to travel to the world their star would place them. Because of me, they could not die.
It was an ultimate tease, to be shown the glorious world that they would each travel to when they died. The pact between the stars gave them powers now, but only a foretaste of what they would inherit upon their death. They could see now only a dim mirage of their destiny that awaited them: to be a god, in their own right, with a world of their own. Until then, they were stuck, just waiting for their time on Earth to pass.
And like the others, I too saw the world that awaited me, but it was nothing to celebrate. I saw horrible things. Violent fires and frigid voids, poison that ripped away at space and time itself. My pact was not with a star, but a black hole. A pit of consumption, the ultimate end of all things. It wasn’t a world of power and life; it was a world of death, the death of the gods. The foretaste I received was the power of Hades, of life and death itself. It was no joy for me. It was a weight, a burden. I saw where the end would lead. I held off as long as I could. But they wanted death to bring them new life. Life I knew would end in misery.
And finally, today, I relented. | 2020-02-21T05:29:11 | 2020-02-21T05:23:59 | 49 | 14 |
[WP] You’re in the mafia and the boss has ordered you to kill your girlfriend to show your loyalty. You look around the room and see the pictures only to find out you’re dating the mafia boss’s daughter. | My heart froze in place, my veins turned to ice; I couldn't believe the order I was just given.
"B-but, boss," I stammered, "you want me to kill my girlfriend?! Your daughter?! Why? How could you!"
The patriarch of my family, Hirayama Makoto, had a reputation for giving such bizarre tests of loyalty. Those closest to him were familiar with these tests, but I, being a newcomer, had no hope of understanding his motive. I scanned his face and posture for any hints that he might give, but his countenance was as cold and lifeless as the large marble orb that sat on the wooden bookcase behind him. He slowly rose from his seat, peering at me from dark, steely eyes.
"Well, Higa?" He said, his voice with the threatening growl of a lurking tiger, "what will it be? Hesitation will get you killed faster than insubordination in this line of work."
I knew, right then and there, what must be done.
My right hand flew to my pistol, pulling it from my coat pocket and pointing it straight at my boss' face
"S-s-sorry boss!" I shouted. Adrenaline flooded through my body, making my jaw and my hand shake. "I... I can't! I *won't* hurt her!"
Boss Hirayama moved not a muscle; not frozen in fear, but strengthened by confidence. Boss was aging - his body grew thin, and his glossy black hair was striped with white. But this was a man who had faced subdued many young cubs back in the day, fighting and scheming his way to the top. I had trespassed on the tiger's domain, making threats with what felt like little more than a pointy stick. If I had any hope of winning the fight, In needed to end it quickly, lest I find his fangs at my throat.
And yet... I couldn't find it in me to put the old man down. This was the same old man who took me in as a youth, showed me how to fight, taught me to navigate the jungle of the crime world.
Slowly, I turned the gun to my own temple. This just felt right. My hand, steadying its trembling, agreed with my heart.
"I'm sorry boss."
But before I could do anything, Boss held up his hand.
"That's enough, Higa. I've seen enough."
I lowered the gun, ready for judgement. His face was still inscrutable, and I dreaded that I had chosen wrong.
Suddenly, his face crinkled into a smile. "You have chosen wisely. I need men like you by my side."
My legs gave way. I felt like I was ready to faint. | "Ey c'mon. I gotta tawk to ye. Bring ya gun."
Nothing good ever happens after any time the boss says this. I wordlessly follow, picking up my Thompson as I exited with the boss to the main hall of our building. I resisted the urge to gulp down the lump in my throat. Show no weakness with the boss.
We walk across the way to his office. I sigh in relief. Boss may be hard as nails, but his office? That needs to be squeaky clean. Not getting whacked today. He sits behind his desk and fumbles for a folder. Ok. Guess I'm goin' on a little contract killing adventure.
"So, Tesseract." We use codenames here. I'm Tesseract. No names going around means it's harder for us to rat each other out. I'm also Tesseract because... I like impossible shapes. "Tesseract, I'm in a bit of a bind. See, I need ya to kill someone who thinks it's okay to run their mouth about us. Problem is, she's my daughter, and your girlfriend. What's between the to o' ya was fine, but now I need her gone. See we had a fight. She threatened to push the cops on us if I didn't give 'er what she wants. She's gonna do what she says, because that's who she is. I'm holding out on her to buy time."
I'm shocked. The evidence is clear as day on my face. "When do you think she'd do it? Do I have time to talk her down?"
"You can try. But if she pulls anything on you, you need to take her out."
"She's blood, and she's like a sister to me."
"And you are like a son to me. But it has to be you to do this."
I gulp the lump in my throat, but remain composed. "Are you sure there's no other way?"
"Apart from you trying to talk her down? No. Just be careful. She's not going to go down without a fight."
Later, I roll up to the boss's daughter's house on the outskirts of Chicago. I'm using the boss's personal armored Cadillac escalade, because boss guessed it would evoke a response. One of gunfire. Its loud, specially tuned exhaust emits a rumble that can be heard up the road.
The desired response was realized, as gunfire erupted out the second story window, all shots on the driver's side, where I was. It's an AK47. I know how those sound. You never forget the telltale bark. Especially when you fight against people wielding them. I also knew her mag was empty. After a split second, I'm out the driver's side door, and running to the house. I force my way into the garage.
Only one car, which tells me the boss's daughter is the only one home. I hide just around the corner six feet from the kitchen door in the garage. Another hail of bullets comes right through the door, and after it's done, I know the gun is empty. I quickly breach the ruined door, switching my Thompson to semi auto as I do, and put two shots into my girlfriend, low and toward the center, barely missing her spine. She dies, but not before saying "fuck you. I'll get you next time."
Her body disappears into a shower of silver sparkly triangles and fades to nothing. Then the words "game over" appear in my vision.
I remove the nerve gear headset as I get a text ping. "It's from the group text!"
*Dear Tesseract. Fuck you, you're too accurate. I WILL get you next time. Oh, and The Boss wants to buy us lunch.*
Score. The Boss knows all the best restaurants. We're gonna have to discuss where to move our base, though. | 2020-07-02T12:02:21 | 2020-07-02T11:49:11 | 19 | 12 |
[WP] Outside of your hometown you are known as an untouchable monster, someone who will never let any superheroes or villains come near his territory. The whole world fears you, but the smiles and support of the townsfolk as they thank you for keeping peace makes it all worth it. | As i sit at a bar, slowly sipping away at my drink i can't help but smile and think back. I take a look around at the bar, and realize I've been here almost an hour now. almost everyone else has gone home, but i'm here. I make eye contact with a fellow patron, as he raises his glass to me. i raise mine back, as we both take a sip. See, i may look human now, but it's only been about two years since i learned to transform into one. Everyone in this town knows who i 'really' am, but nobody outside the town does. It's been almost ten years since the first incident of this town.
Back then, when i couldn't even think about ever having a normal human form ever again. I was an experiment. One that, while technically a success, the lab blowing up was not. I'm not the one who did that, and i may never find out who did. I don't care, I was tortured, beaten, and tested on. I still remember the pain, the smell of my burnt fur. After the first experiment, the closest thing that could describe me was a bulky werewolf. I don't think that's what i am, but who knows.
About ten years ago, after the lab exploded, that's when i escaped the lab. I was so injured then, i didn't think i could stand. I forced myself to walk for miles though, the pain unbearable. All I knew was if I didn't keep moving, then I would die. When i finally saw lights, that's when I ended up here. This town I call home.
When I first got here, I ended up collapsing in the main square. Everybody was too afraid to go near me. Everyone except her. Even with everyone pleading, and telling her I was dangerous, she walked up to me. I don't remember much about that day specifically, but I do remember the next few. Waking up covered in bandages, and with her asleep on my arm. A few days later, that's when they arrived, and when i became the beast of Bensvil.
See, when they showed up, the hero and the villain, they were in a huge fight. The surrounding forest was starting to burn from their attacks. Chunks of earth flying all over the place. When they landed in the town, everybody gathered around. I walked up, trying to figure out what was going on as well.
I don't remember exactly what was said, all I remember was the stereotypical hero verses villain speeches. The villain threw some sort of energy attack, and while everyone freaked, the hero stood his ground. He smacked the blast away, but that was the problem. See, he hit it strait at her. As it turns out, when fully healed I'm fast, and strong as hell. I jumped in front, expecting to die.
Before i could even ask her if she was okay, I felt rage boil. He's a hero, how could he just throw an attack like that so half hardheartedly. The next thing i know, I've driven his face into the ground. As the villain laughs hysterically, seeing as how I just beat his rival in a single blow, I can't help but hate him too. In the blink of an eye, i launched him to the next city over. I hear the hero get up, and I immediately march right up to him. "leave. and tell everyone, EVERYONE! not to mess with this place." he groggily nods, as I send him flying to a city in the opposite direction.
That was the first encounter. there have been others, but this was the first. Ever since that day, I've settled down nicely in this... nearly, quiet town. Their smiles, and knowing i'm welcome is the only thing I need. I feel a hand on my shoulder, as I remember I'm back in a bar. It's her, that beautiful smile. I can never get enough. I get up, and begin to head home, with her, my loving wife. The one person who, even though I looked like a beast, still treated my like i was human. I will always protect this place, no matter from what, or who. | I continued to run forwards. The ones which chased after me were an einherji and several thousand Valkyries.
An axe flew by my head and stuck itself in a tree. Arrows flew towards me but they were all for naught.
I had reached my flag. My hometown.
[SPECIAL SKILL ACTIVATED: FLAG OF UNENDING NIGHT]
[STRENGTH UP]
[SPEED UP]
[INVINCIBILITY]
I rushed towards the einherji and punched him in the chest. His blade fell to the floor as he crashed through a tree. The valkyrie descended upon me in a formation that most people wouldn't be able to avoid.
I'm not most people.
I jumped over the first and grabbed onto the wings of the next.
Her Axe slipped downwards onto the back of the next.
Some started casting rune spells but they were knocked out faster than they could cast.
Some released volleys of arrows from wihin the bushes. Those clunked harmlessly off my skin-turned-scales.
Suffice it to say, it was a massacre.
"None of them were strong enough to handle the villains that could attack here. Yet they clung onto it so hard."
I walked towards where I had previously stationed my flag and pulled it out of the ground. It's flag magically folded into a bandgage flowing behind the edge of my spear Tenebrae Subit or as I liked to call her Tensepu.
I ran towards the base of opperation and smiled as I saw Luminis and little Drien.
"How did it go you two?" I called out
"Awesome! I beat up the badguys." Drien smiled
"The gods still refuse to allow this it seems. The children of Noctis are also getting more intense." Luminis reported "I doubt Dies and I will have enough strength to fight them off for a while."
"And Testudo?" I smiled as I looked towards the roof.
"You always catch me Cap. How do you do it?" the one we had come to know as the green-eyed sniper complained
"Report..."
"According to Graeca, the waters aren't safe either. She asked me to bring her here so I came of scout duty."
"Put her in her pool and tell her not to complain until I handle those sea gods okay."
"Can I come watch you beat up him." Drien jumped about excitedly.
"No D, I need you and Luminis here to keep the town safe." I ruined his mood
"Fine."
I laughed quite unusually and got the stares of my trainees in return. There were only two of them who weren't here yet but that was for good reason. Etlux and Verax were busy training under my eternal rival.
I place my flag in the centre of the room and walked outside. The town was running low on food and the crops weren't going to be ready anytime soon.
Demeter was going to get her goddes butt over here if she wanted me to keep my promise. After all, the underworld's rulers all wanted my soul. The soul of an immortal mortal and one of the two direct children of Noctis and an Illa.
I remebered the first time I stumbled upon this town. Ravaged by battles between god-folk and fin-folk. I had interrupted a fight between Demeter and Aridorum. Both non-fighters forced to fight under their lovers' will.
When I saw the destruction caused by such irresponsible beings, well to put it simply I went on autodrive
Demeter always complains about how brutally I had stabbed at her and Aridorum. Aridorum always complains about how elegantly I had defended the town. They both fear me but as a younger sibling, it is not their place to fear me.
"What are you thinking about Cap?" Tetsudo spoke.
I realised I had not yet left the town and blushed "Guess I just forgot to move my feet."
"Since you are here, could you tell us when the twins are coming back?" Luminis asked
I put my hands on the back of my head and smiled as I walked away. "When Bed-head thinks the're ready."
When I arrived at the forest, I called out the name of my favourite older half-sister and warned her. She popped out immediately and question my choices.
"I just need you and Aridorum to make sure that no one touches my town." I pat her on the shoulder and leaped towards the clouds.
When I arrived at the temple, Tlaloc immediately shot me down. "You know you're not allowed here cursed one. So unless you are looking to die by my hands, don't come here."
"Chill bro. I just need to know where Rugluf is."
"You want to challenge the chief of lightning's fin form?"
"Yes, my brother-"
"Yes the blessed one. Sure I'll do it."
I grunted at the interruption but I knew it was fruitless. If Tlaloc so desired, he could easily kill off my town and he knew that that was more precious to me than my life.
"Ahh! Here it is! According to the lack of life, I'd say he is having another squabble with Thor."
"Thanks for the info. Big bro!"
"I- you know what forget it."
Suffice it to say, I slapped Thor.
Rug boy fled when he saw me. Probably because he knows I know what he did. | 2020-10-01T08:05:15 | 2020-10-01T05:42:02 | 22 | 13 |
[WP] Years ago your grandparents fell for an apparent tech support scam and purchased "lifetime warranty covering each and everything". When their computer was stolen, three strange foreign men in suits appear within the hour of it being taken.
EDIT: Honestly I put this up as I was watching some Kitboga and thought "Well what if they were actually legit?" I didn't expect this reaction!
Thanks for the great stories! They're a blast to read <3 | There was a break-in at my house. My computer was stolen. I had informed the police and they were on their way. I was surveying the house, trying to figure out what else was stolen when a tall blonde man in a black suit entered through my broken door.
"Mr Hastings?" he asked.
I replied in the affirmative.
"Your computer. It's not there anymore, is it?"
"No. No, it isn't. You see sir there's been a break-in and --"
"Your grandfather. He signed a contract with us."
"A contract?"
Two more men, one dressed in a navy blue suit, the other in a grey suit, entered the room. The man in the black suit nodded to them.
"These are my associates. They will explain everything to you."
"Hullo, Mr Hastings. Not a great day is it?" said the man in the grey suit.
Blue suit nudged him with his elbow. The man continued.
"Uhm -- er -- sorry yeah. So your grandfather. Yes, what a pleasant old man eh."
The other men gave him a sharp look.
"Yes, yes, yes. You see, he purchased a lifetime warranty covering each --"
"And everything," I said. "Yes, he did tell me about that. Cost him a fortune. He said you guys never stuck to your word. Frauds that's what he called you."
The man in the grey suit shrugged. Black suit said, "Your grandfather. He didn't quite understand our terms."
"We offered to cover each and everything concerning the computer. But he didn't get it," said the guy in the blue suit.
Police sirens wailed in the distance. The men shifted uneasily. Blue suit reached inside his coat pocket and slammed a check on the table.
"This covers the price of your computer. Deprecation and all that included," he said.
Police sirens grew closer.
"I'm afraid we'll have to take leave sir," Black suit said. They exited the room swiftly. The police were almost there. The insurance men hurried to their car and drove away.
I glanced at the check. Five dollars. That's what the amount was.
"What a family of suckers we are," I wondered aloud. | The Lifetime Warranty Skip strikes yet again. The Mobile Task Force is dispatched immediately, we get everything ready, Dr. Bright cracks a morbid joke and we all fall silent as we watch the troopers speak to the household members. Dr. Cimmerian just watches and says nothing.
"... And they gave us the laptop. Everything in it, too. It's like they knew what happened. It was in perfect condition. Grandpa always ate around it and there were gross crumbs and stuff and now it's the cleanest it's ever been. Cleaner than from the store."
Dr. Bright shifts in his seat and sighs.
"I really, really want it now," he says.
"You can't have it until we get a call," Cimmerian replies sharply.
I shush them. This could very well be the breakthrough for this Skip.
"Would you happen to recall what the caller told you? Anything about a lifetime warranty?" the commander asks.
The semi-blurred shaking of heads infuriates me. We're close. Nobody has been able to remember a damn thing about the Lifetime Warranty anomaly, and maybe for good reason; nobody recalls speaking to an Indian-accented man on the phone. Or if they did, they hung up. Because why not? Even the thief, caught on camera, said little else beyond being threatened by three men in suits for the laptop. They came out of nowhere and took it. They went behind a corner and vanished like a fart in the wind. Hours later, some house in Brooklyn gets a knock from a Mobile Task Force unit.
"We could lure the skip," Bright says with a smile on ... her face.
"And how would we do that? Get a phone and laptop and expect them to call us sometime this century?" Cimmerian asks, none too pleased with his own, simple, self-proposed jest.
"Well, I had a more complicated idea of getting a whole team of people-" Bright begins.
"-which takes paperwork-" Cimmerian interjects.
"-So I'll do it myself," Bright concludes.
"Which you can't do because we're locked in a facility in the literal middle of nowhere," Cimmerian corrects.
"So let's get a D-class to do it. We'll log it as an attempt and see what happens," Bright says.
Cimmerian nods his head. For once, they agree on something.
"Assuming the D-class gets a call," Cimmerian notes.
"Then let's get many D-classes together, it's not like we don't have a prison complex designed for them," Bright says.
I'm just looking at the screen. The Task Force leaves with no answers and the Lifetime Warranty Skip remains at large. Containment is Keter-class. It's not a threat so far. The three suited sub-Skips are more of the issue around the Lifetime Warranty Skip. Where they come from and where they go, how they determine who stole the device in question, why they're dressed so conspicuously. They didn't hurt the thief, they just take it. They vanish and return the device. That's the big question.
Bright and Cimmerian are now gone, looking for some poor D-class personnel to harass about a Lifetime Warranty. Bright's probably going to find a new suitable body from the new shipment; he's complained about being a woman for the past five days and I fully expect him to renege on his own plan and Cimmerian the moment he finds a suitable male replacement. | 2020-10-14T00:32:52 | 2020-10-13T21:44:05 | 590 | 264 |
[WP] The world's greatest villain and hero clearly like each other. His monologues when she's captured tend to turn to conversation, and she "accidentally" lets him escape arrest. While they're convinced they're enemies, his henchman and her sidekick are just trying to get them together already. | The Black Thief laughed. She had caught Major Magnificent again. "Fool! You fell for my trap again! This time you won't be able to stop me as I finally steal the Ruby Giant from the Museum of History!"
Major Magnificent had been tipped off that Black Thief was going to be murdering the mayor. Instead, he had walked into a booby trap. "Black! You know this won't hold me! I will stop you, you scoundrel!"
"Honestly, Major, when was the last time I captured you?" The hero struggled in the net hanging over the Black Thief's head. She changed her tone, "No, seriously? I'm sure that you got a new haircut."
The Major stopped struggling, "It's not too short? I just wanted something different, but I was worried it was drastic."
"No, no. It looks really good. I'm digging it." The Black Thief put her hand on her hip. " Actually, you should keep it this way. It makes your jaw look really good."
They smiled at each other for a bit before the realization hit.
"Not that I care or anything!"
"Your fiendish charms have no power over me!"
As the two argued, two hidden individuals were also arguing behind a pillar, away from sight.
"Oh, she's going to know it was me. I can't!" A young girl dressed in black whined.
"Well, fine! We'll just do this again next week and the week after and the week after. Aren't you tired of her spending all her times thinking of how to capture Major just to let him get away?!" A young man, dressed in white and gold spoke in an aggressive whisper. "And I'm tired of not actually fighting crime! He just keeps looking for her and getting 'trapped'. Ugh, I'm so over it!"
The young girl in black nodded her head. "I know you're right. I signed up to get rich, not waste my time catching meatheads." She shifted her eyes to her companion quickly, "No offense."
"Whatever, just do it now."
"And once I've collected the Ruby Giant, I'll be rich enough to own this city and you'll--whoa!" In the middle of the Black Thief's monologue, she was swept up in her own net. She struggled for a bit hanging next to Major Magnificent.
"Black! Are you ok?!" The Major clung to his net as he watched the villain swing from her net.
" Ow, I think I twisted my ankle. It's in a weird position. Oh, wait. That's better. But it still hurts." Black positioned herself to be more comfortable. Suddenly, she let out a roar. "BLACK ROSE! GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANCE, YOUNG LADY. I KNOW THIS IS YOUR DOING!"
A trembling Black Rose came out from her hiding place with her young male companion next to her. The Major gasped in shock. "Muscle Boy?!"
The young boy looked away, embarrassed, "I told you it's Muscle Man now. For, like, three weeks."
The Major lifted his palms, "Sorry. Sorry. My bad. Just in shock. What's going on here?"
Black gave a growl. "If you don't get me out, Rose, I swear you will regret it for the rest of your life."
Black Rose lifted her head, "We had to do this! We're leaving you locked in here overnight. Get together or get over each other!"
Muscle Man grabbed Black Rose and they both stomped away, locking a heavy door behind then.
The two hanging from the nets yelled at the younglings to come back. They both yelled obscenities and struggled until they grew tired.
After an hour of getting no where, both lay back panting. Major gave one final shake of his net which swung his net, bumping into Black.
"Oh! Sorry."
"It's fine."
Silence grew until finally....
"So, where did you get your haircut?" | “Buzz!” Arborose demanded. His voice echoed in the hollow chamber of his lair, “Buzz!”
“Sir,” I rolled my motorized chair at the door. Mr. Snooze fell asleep on my lap, and I scratched his chin, trying not to meet his eyes.
“What is this?” My boss demanded. He tossed me his phone, with titanium case and bullet proof fiberglass screen, I would safely say that it was durable beyond mortal expectations. A web of hairline cracks had developed over the screen surface.
“Your phone, sir?”
“DON’T YOU—” I raised my hand gently and pointed at Mr. Snooze. Arborose, master of evil, lowered his voice, “don’t you play dumb with me, Buzz, I didn’t hire you for your strength and agility.”
Ouch. That was hurtful, but then he paid for this motorized wheelchair that morphed into a super suit when needed, so the hurt could be easily overlooked. It also never was an issue for me to begin with.
I looked at the content showed on screen. “It appeared to be a content of a social media account, sir. A photograph depicting a man and a woman at a restaurant. Thai? Chinese? Oh, I believe it is American Fusion Asian food. I find that rather distasteful, sir, if you require my opinion.”
His facial expression darkened considerably. Arborose was an attractive man, and his sullen expression made my heart skip a beat, but I didn’t want to make him suffer for too long or another city might be swallowed by a forest, damaging all infrastructure.
I sighed, “the woman does look like Sunny Summer, the real identity of Solar Girl, sir. And is that a man with her? They seem quite close.”
Arborose struck a wooden table with his hand with such force an oak branch shot out of it, growing luscious leaves.
“Who is that little boy?” He demanded.
“He didn’t look that little, nor that young,” I stroked Mr. Snooze’s fur as he sighed contentedly in his slumber, “He’s approximately, estimated from Ms. Summer’s height, about 6 foot 2. Age wise, I think he’s—what—my age? Twenty? Twenty-five? I mean, Ms. Summer is quite a bit older than him, but many couples nowadays—”
“WHO SAYS ANYTHING ABOUT A COUPLE!?” Arborose roared. Mr. Snoozed woke up and jumped out of my lap, disappearing into another chamber. “Buzz, I need this man’s identity.”
“Absolutely, sir, when do you need this by?”
“IMME-FUCKING-DIATELY!”
“But sir, I am working with the reforestation process, slowly increasing the acceleration of the trees in certain regions to disrupt the construction network of—”
“Abort that operation.”
I looked at him.
“Buzz, I said—”
“I know what you said, sir. Clearly you see this as a high-priority case. Whoever can get this close to Solar Girl and let her guard down can make her vulnerable. We can use this against her in the future, kidnap him, perhaps. Use him as bait? Get her to back off as we follow our heinous plots against human civilizations?”
Arborose’s eyes went blank for a moment. “That’s exactly it. I knew you would get it.” He looked almost embarrassed.
Boy, my boss was cute.
“Okay, sir, I need to abort the operation and started a confidential grid search to gather all information needed regarding the personal friend of Ms. Summer. Please relax as this may take a few moments.”
He seemed to be able to gather his cool and left the room gracefully.
I pulled out my connections, the ones that was not connected to the grid of this lair.
“He bought it,” I told the person who came online, “we must prepare our next phase.”
“You look adorable when you get what you want,” a male voice answered as a man appeared on the screen.
“I like that scarf; it’s cute,” I told him, “it hid the hickey I gave pretty well.”
Now it was his turn to blush, his hand went to his neck, which was hidden in his operating super suit “I thought you didn’t have a lot of time.”
“Okay, so how are things going on your end?”
He beamed with pride, suiting with the superpower name Sunbeam. “I finally successfully convinced her Arborose was straight.”
I snickered, “gods, Sunbeam. They should have known not every male supers who had boy sidekicks are gay.”
Sunbeam’s blue eyes flickered with laughter. “So now what do we do?”
“We wait,” I told him, grinning as I disconnected.
“Buzz,” a voice boomed from another chamber.
Arborose stepped it, his super suit ready, making him look more formidable than ever. His cape billowed after him, trailed after by Mr. Snooze who tried to grab it.
“After you know the identity of that man, get your gears on,” he demanded, “we have a mission.”
“Yes, sir, affirmative.” I said. | 2020-11-06T23:44:22 | 2020-11-06T23:37:13 | 1,971 | 302 |
[WP] You are a warrior pledged to protect a chosen priestess on her quest to quell a great evil. What she finds at the end of her journey is not a dark god or towering beast. She now stands before an altar of sacrifice. You knew the truth the whole time, you just couldn't bear to tell her. |
A realization dawned on her as we stepped into that pristine temple, high above a flight of stairs that felt more arduous than the journey we had made to this point. I suppose it was one of many. I think the first was probably that something was wrong. How, after all, could a temple that hadn't been used in several decades manage to remain void of even the most hidden cobweb? I think she was going to say as much. I had seen too often that look of wonder in her eyes. She always tried to hide it, because an adult can't hold on to that childish intrigue, and yet she could no more hide it than she could hide the reality of her youth.
I still remembered that moment I first saw her. I had been prepared for so much of this mission, but I hadn't been prepared for her soft face or the desperate determination in her eyes. She was just a kid, even though everyone around her said that she was old enough, and she was a sheltered kid at that. It was part of the point; part of the process, and as the second realization dawned I think she caught on to that.
She was young, just a little over fifteen, and she was pure in even the most audacious sense of the word. She needed me to stand by her side because of all the magicks in the world, she was only able to heal and shield. She was a protector and extremely vulnerable, always just a second away from a shadow attack, and she had come to look at me like my kids did. I could never betray them. I could never betray her. Except, if she knew anything about me other than that I didn't let her have fun, she'd know that I had no problem betraying the people I care for. They'd never forgive me, and she wouldn't either.
It was heartbreaking to see it all come together for her, like watching everything in slowed time. The moment her dark eyes fell upon the alter felt like the light had left the room, and she went so stiff you'd think she was a statue made flesh. Her hands tightened around the staff she so confidently carried, and she spun as if she could catch me off guard. Desperate determination? She still had it, and all of it became dedicated to staying alive.
"You're not going to like this," I spoke ahead of her because I knew she wouldn't. My son was like that, though he was her junior. When he felt cornered he'd prepare to fight, but he could not spar with words.
"All this time you were planning to kill me! Why didn't they just kill me at the temple where I grew up!"
"Because you needed to make this trip."
"And all this time you knew this would happen! I healed you! I tried to fight with you! You almost died just for the chance to kill me?"
She was on the verge of tears, but she held them back. Her voice cracked, her hands quivered, but she held back a part of herself and it almost made me proud. I think she took my silence the wrong way because she went on.
"You told me that I would get to be free! You said I could fall in love and grow old. Everything I lived through would be worth it because the world would be better and I would be free..." Her rage felt more powerful than the evil we were fighting, but there was something off about the taste of the words. "You never said that..." She still didn't cry. "You just nodded along to all those ideas I had." Her staff sounded like the fall of a kingdom as it hit the ground.
She stepped away from it and me and touched the altar before she knew what she was doing. It started to glow, and then her hands did too as ancient text filled every inch of them.
At that moment, another realization dawned...or maybe it was acceptance. She looked at me and her determination shifted; she could die to save the world. She stood tall and bold and reminded me of my daughter.
"Do it then. If the world needs me to die, that's fine." Her conviction was impressive, but she still shuddered as she heard the clank of my sword. It would be all right though, she only had one more realization until this was over, and then she truly could be free.
With ease, I slid my blade from its sheath and it gleamed in the light of the room and her hands. I stepped forward, and she met my eyes, so I saw the moment of shock when I offered the handle to her.
"You have to sacrifice yourself to stop this threat, but not in the way you think you do."
Rage shifted to horror.
"You're filled with pure magic, nothing will taint that more than taking a life."
"How does that stop anything?" She cried out, but the tears were still held back. She could do this, I was sure.
"This place needs it to keep the evil suppressed. The taint will let it draw out enough of that purity to keep the evil sealed. That alter isn't for you to die on, it's for you to make the most important decision of your life."
She took the sword and I stepped past her to lay upon the stone slab. I looked at her and watched her innocence begin to crumble. This was too much at once, but that was part of the process too.
"It's a heavy burden, but I can't apologize to you. The terror of that dark force will be greater than anything you have to bear here. Strike true, girl."
Desperate determination. Horrible, desperate determination. Could she say no and doom the world? I think I saw her trying to find another way, but time was of the essence. She wasn't going to find a way before the Day of Awakening.
I like that she still didn't crack before that final moment. I could see the quiver of her lips, but she was cornered, and she was too sheltered a girl to even dream of saying no. I was impressed as the blade sunk into my chest. The cold of the steel, the heat of my blood, and the heat of her tears mixed as she drove the blade as deep as she could. The light in her hands shot down it like a fleeing rodent, and the room went so bright I thought the afterlife had claimed me at that moment.
I heard her weeping as I faded away. I took something from her to this afterlife that she could never get back.
*"And it's a shame that yet another one of you die to delay the inevitable. But it is interesting! Far more fun than the innocent sacrifices of yore."*
"I think it's more of a shame that you were too full of yourself to listen to the story. She's always been a determined girl, and now she'll be able to use the type of magicks that hurt." | Daleline moved slowly towards the altar. I could see her shaking slightly. It wasn’t the weather or the warm breeze that caused her to shake. Her energy had been growing since we left the high castle. With each step she had grown in her own abilities from the meek young woman that had left the throne room to a confident woman who had easily dealt with the trials we had experienced to get to this point.
Her first real test had been in the tavern outside Eastwood. I had left her to secure rooms from the tavern master when alone she was confronted by several local men spying a well dressed young woman alone. I paused at the bar keeping an eye from a distance while the tavern master bumbled about price and lack of rooms.
It was only when one of the ruffians tried to grab the ornate her necklace that she reacted. She stood calling my name. His hands barely missing the necklace and knocking over the tankard I had left. One of the men closed on her to stop her running and the tavern continued as normal. But when he grabbed her shoulders she had fixed him with a stare that caused the world around him to melt away. He froze. “Let me go” she commanded frost tipping to words. The other men closed as well misreading the situation. I rested my hand on the hilt of my sword anticipating the worst. “I SAID LET ME GO” her voice chilling the room. The tavern stopped and eager faces spun to her direction expecting trouble. The men paused but just for a moment before pawing at her jewellery and the coin purse at her hip.
I shifted my weight to leap toward her but the men suddenly fell backwards. Propelled by an unseen force. They picked themselves up quickly. One drew his dagger murder in his eyes. I took two steps and gripped his hand cruelly. “And what do you think you’ll do with this” I asked twisting his hand so the dagger fell from his grasp. The sight of a suddenly close large warrior making the group disappear as quickly as they had materialised. I returned to the tavern master and finished the transaction. Daleline was angry when I returned to the table.
“How could you leave me like that?” She was close to tears.
“You seemed to handle that well enough” I retorted picking up the tankard and raising it towards the bar.
“Well enough?! I could have been killed” she exclaimed.
“You weren’t though” I said matter of factly.
“And what was I to do against three ruffians?”
I let the question hang in the air. Patrons had begun moving themselves away from our table and the barmaid was hesitant in coming over to fill my drink. I slammed the tankard on the table twice and pointed to it which brought the barmaid over.
“We have a room. We will have to share” I said as if nothing had happened. “Eat your meal and drink your mead. Or don’t I don’t care but I’m hungry and the road has left me with a great thirst that I intend to quell” I attended to my drink.
“You are a monstrous man” she stated still shaken by what had occurred. I doubt that Daleline had ever dealt with men like that before. I made my way to the tavern master again after the meal and slipped some extra coin to him for the men he had arranged for me. Daleline stuck beside me like glue.
After that incident something awakened in her. Each time we encountered trouble she grew a little more confident (and more powerful). By the time we met the spiderlings she had learnt to focus her energy quite well. She even saved me from certain injury when the BaleWolves began to overwhelm me in Curstain.
I treated her with distain after each encounter but my respect for her was growing. As is often the case when a young person is confronted with the harsh realities of the world she quickly adapted. But she kept trying to charm me and would be bitter for days at a time when I would rebuke her. It was easier that way for both of us. She just didn’t realise it yet.
“What will you do when you return home?” She would ask in the beginning. I would just keep walking speeding my pace so she would have to struggle to keep up. “Why wouldn’t Father have given us horses?” She would say, especially when trudging through mud or up hills.
I kept going without saying anything again increasing the pace.
Out here in the wilderness she had finally abandoned thoughts of horses, and taverns,
and warm beds. She quickly learnt the routine of gathering firewood and making fires. I was stubborn about building fires only when needed so she took on that chore quickly so every night we had a fire to ward off the cold. Secretly I enjoyed it but would never let her know that.
She began to enjoy the routine of travel, although it took some time before her feet adapted to the road. We had encounter a tinker that repaired her boots and she had bartered her necklace for another blanket and a sharp knife. The tinker must have thought the gods were smiling on him that day.
We found his body further down the road from our camp. BaleWolves feasting on his remains only a few short hours after he had left us. Daleline was incensed at the injustice that the old man had suffered at the fate of these monsters. Little did he know that the necklace had brought this fate upon him.
“This is yours” I said tossing the necklace at her “he doesn’t need it anymore”.
She stood staring at the necklace in her hands blood still wet in it. “Monsters” she said her hands trembling with rage.
Every time we encountered BaleWolves after that she tore at them with her little knife and her chilling words. I shuddered when she strode into a group of them determined to bring the same misery that they had to the kind tinker that had been good to her. The only positive interaction she had in the long months on the road.
Now that we stood at the altar she was quite quiet. This was why we had come but the beast was no where to be seen. “Well where is it then?” She asked impatiently “isn’t this why we came all this way?” I loosened my shield and cloak letting them fall to the ground as I often did when we made camp. I took off my tabbard exposing my chest and loosening my belt.
“Where is it?” She implored “shouldn’t it be here so I can kill it and go home?”
“We are early” I simply stated sitting by the altar.
“Early?” She asked perplexed.
I stayed silent making myself a comfortable in the waning sunlight. Two days passed eventually her questions faded and she sat next to the fire she had made playing with the embers. On the third night the moon was full and bright.
“Tonight is the night Daleline” I said simply. Breathing in the warm air and looking up at the moon.
“What happens now then?”
“The moon will soon turn blood red and the beast will come. You must finish it and leave it on the altar” my voice slow and steady.
“I’m ready” she said a slight nervousness in her voice.
I could feel my blood coursing and my body aching as the change came on.
“But where is the beast? Where will it come from?” Her small knife already in her hand.
“The beast is already here” I said my throat contorting as my muscles began to warp as the moon reddened. “Remember I am a monster” I stammered as the change began to take.
She drew away from me. “No not you! Not
like this!” She implored.
I howled as my body contorted and twisted into the mass of muscle and bones. I dragged myself to the altar. “Be quick girl!” I shouted but the sounds the came out were more like a gurgling grunts that no human could muster. “I’m sorry” she said slipping her small knife into me. | 2020-11-12T23:56:28 | 2020-11-12T23:50:14 | 24 | 11 |
[WP] For decades you've worked as a superhero protecting the city and its people. Your powers have been slowly killing you for years but you kept being a hero much to your doctor's protest. The citizens are starting to take notice. | Every day is exhausting. I grit my teeth through the interviews, the photo ops, the handshake with the mayor--every smile makes my jaw throb with pain, every slow blink of the eyes stings like sandpaper. My muscles are stiff at best, aching and creaking at worst. But I keep at it; I visit the kids in the hospice wing, I laugh at the terrible jokes the morning show people tell, I hold up the key to the city as if the oversized prop doesn't make my arms feel like they're going to rip apart at the socket.
And then comes the night patrol, when I turn on my power again and incredibly, blessedly, the pain is gone. I can walk without the street beneath my feet feeling like glass shards. I can climb and run and fly and carry half the city if I need to. I can breathe without holding back tears.
But the time I can use my power grows shorter and shorter each day. And the pain that is the price I pay for its use carves itself ever deeper into my bones, my blood, every inch of my body.
One day my life will be nothing but pain. I will shift into my powers, to be hale and hearty and whole, to be the woman the city needs me to be, and I will feel that brief, glorious moment where all the pain is gone--and then it will be back. I will try, and try, and try again to be a hero, and will find nothing but pain. One day, my powers will be nothing but a flicker and a fading memory, and my life will be hell.
I see it in their eyes--the city knows. Last night, a mugger saw me stumble on the pavement--it was 3 AM, and the first twinges of warning had started. Instead of taking advantage of the moment to run, or bash me on the head with his crowbar--useless against my invincibility, of course, but that doesn't usually stop them from trying--he stopped to help me up and then let me arrest him.
"You saved my sister once, you know," he said as I hauled him to the police station. "Pulled her out of a fire. Tall as anything and carrying a screaming kid and you somehow made it look cool."
He didn't say anything else after that, not even when I asked about how she was doing, what his name was. He just stayed silent and looked at me when he thought I couldn't see. Did he think he was saving me?
The small, puff-piece interviews I do almost every day have changed, too. They aren't done on-the-street anymore, but in plush studios, on soft chairs and couches and even once the floor. There are more pointed questions about retirement, about family life, about recruiting a sidekick to teach the lay of the land to. I laugh and flex and hide the burning ache that makes a mockery of me.
I haven't had a supervillain challenge in months. I am strong enough, I know, to fight them still. I might scream in the aftermath, might howl and wail and whimper from the agony as my own abilities tear my body apart, but I can do it. And then know it--but that never stopped them before, not any of them. Not Mr. Mutagen, not The Renegade, not even the D-listers like Condiment Man. I saw Mr. Mutagen out on the street, on bail, and he couldn't look at me. I saw pity in his eyes, not fear, not contempt.
And that's why I keep going. For as long as I can walk, as long as I can pretend--however badly--I can keep this city safer than it's ever been. No supervillain attacks. Less and less nonpowered crime. Nobody wants to fight a dying woman. If being pitied keeps my city safe, I'll go gladly to my pitiable end. | The Supreme Squeeze stood there, towering over Ultraman. He savored the moment, every second of glorious victory.
"Any last words, hero?" The Squeeze gloated, a sneer twisting his dry lips.
"Justice... Will prevail." He spat out some blood as he struggled to push himself up from his prone position. His arms wobbled in exertion. Just as he was about to get up, the Squeeze gave him a savage kick to the ribs.
Ultraman tumbled across the asphalt and lay in a heap, twitching in agony.
"Look at you. You're pathetic. You've lost your touch, 'Hero'." The Squeeze made air quotation marks. "You are no more than a bum in spandex now. Just give up. Your superstrength, your powers, they're gone. Doesn't take a genius to realize that. Why go through all the trouble? You don't owe these people anything. You bust your ass, come home black and blue and for what? All you get is some fat cop taking the credit and calling you a menace in a rubber suit. I just don't get it." The villain sighed exaggeratedly and shook his head.
"...must protect... Never about.. Recognition. You'll... never get it." Ultraman croaked out, in between wheezes and gasps for air as his lungs fought against his collapsed ribs.
The Squeeze clucked his tongue and feigned pity. "Tell you what. You crawl up to me, prostrate yourself and kiss my boots, and just maybe, I let you limp on back to momma." At that, the villain let out a low sadistic laugh.
"Never. Justice will prevail." He got to his feet after being down for the 20th time this fight, his body wracked with cuts, burns, and bruises. He swayed on his feet like a reed in the winds, but he was standing yet again. Somehow, some way.
The Squeeze's vein bulged in abject irritation. Nothing infuriated him more than idealistic idiots. Worse, idealistic idiots that didn't know when to quit.
Enough playing around, it was time to end this.
The Squeeze walked forward to finish off Ultraman, when suddenly, from all around him, the crowd that had gathered to watch the hero and villain fight rushed in. Mortal beings with no powers, just like the now degenerated Ultraman, moved in front of him, forming a defensive wall of men and women.
The fear in their eyes was palpable, and yet there they stood.
"U-ultraman. We're with you!!" One man shouted from the mob.
"Don't give up Ultraman! We believe in you!" A woman shouted, her voice hoarse. They had been cheering him on the entire fight.
"Justice will prevail!" a boy parroted the hero's catchphrase.
Ultraman stopped wobbling, and planted his feet firmly on the ground. A small smile spread across his lips, and tears edged out the corners of his eyes.
Then- he held up a fist in the air. "Everyone... Thank you."
He felt his power surge from within, momentarily overcoming his affliction. The sight of everyone protecting him with their bodies primed a switch in him.
Seeing the Squeeze knock a few of them to the side like bowling pins flipped it.
"Everyone, clear out the way. I'm here now." Ultraman said calmly, his voice now much more powerful than before.
The Squeeze looked at him, wide eyed. He felt the raw surge in power.
"But how?? The virus should have rendered you no more powerful than a mewling kitten!"
Ultraman sprinted up to him in a flash, and landed a superman punch straight into the villain's chest, sending him flying several feet in the air.
"Justice... Always... Prevails." his last surge dissipated from him, and he fell in a crumpled heap.
...
He awoke shortly after, and found himself in a hospital room, surrounded by civilians and fans. Some of them in crutches, holding the wounds they sustained protecting him with pride.
"Thank you." He repeated again, before his eyes fluttered shut again, never to reopen.
...
Thousands came out to his funeral.
"The real mark of heroism- is when you step up to do the right thing, superpower or no. To be a hero is to face down villains 10 times your strength and power level, if only to buy time for the innocent to evacuate. This is how justice prevails." The priest read a snippet from Ultraman's private journal released by his parents to a tearful audience. Then read his last will and testament. "I leave all my worldly possessions to fund the construction of a public hero academy for underserved Powered children and adults."
The people saw Ultraman fighting hard each and every day for them, despite his growing physical weakness, despite the media slander. Despite that eventually, he was but a man facing Gods. It was only natural that they sacrificed in turn when the time came. The world lost a hero that day, but his actions inspired a new generation to take his place- whether powered or not. | 2021-02-18T10:39:18 | 2021-02-18T10:23:34 | 202 | 68 |
[WP] You are part of the league, the superheroes who save the world, yet you never go on missions. You are only called for one thing only. Total annihilation, for when they don't want survivors. | For the last eight years of my life Ive lived in this bunker. I had a TV and a small chromebook, my bed, a desk, and my DS Lite. It was hard to fit more in this small space of ten by twelve. I was thankful I had a small separate bathroom that even had my own dryer, and washer machine. I know it seemed silly but they did want me comfortable in here. I wasn't a monster, just dangerous. They even tried to hide the news from me out of sympathy but even small channels talked about what I did. It was hard to ignore the destruction, or the lack thereof, after I was done.
The worst noise imaginable sounded as I ate my Captain Crunch All Berries. A red light and the voice over a radio. "Come in, Sami. We need you, now. Get in the elevator and get in the helicopter." My heart sunk at the sounds of destruction and screaming, and the sound of the firefight in the background of the call.
"Fuck." Was all I could say as I set my bowl down and walked to the elevator. By the time it arrived I was already crying. The soldiers loaded me into the helicopter, all the while their guns were ready and they avoided eye contact with me. Not like I could meet their gazes. As we took off we saw Jax land with Amelia's body. The Phantom was dead. I could see that even as the distance grew, it didn't obscure the way her eyes stared or that a chunk of her chest and arm were missing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was selfish but I was more mad that this backed up the fact I was *needed*.
"Here." Said the sniper next to me. I looked up to see a pack of portable tissues passed my way.
"Thank you." I mumbled and took the pack. I blew my nose, thankfully it was loud and no one could hear me sound like a miserable trumpet. I offered them back but she shook her head and pushed them back towards me. The small eye contact said we shared the same job and it tore us both up to do that job. Kill the monsters when no one else could. Fifteen minutes later as the city was in view. Fires, monsters, the the sound of screams. I saw the rest of the team fly away from the large monsters. Ten of them? They were huge and nothing was working. Obviously, or I wouldn't be here. We bobbed and weaved before we landed.
"We'll be back in fifteen minutes." The sniper told me as they dropped me off at a central building. I nodded and waited for them to leave to a safe distance. I hate it, the screams, the yells, the roars. Once they were far enough I closed my eyes. The sound began to slow and concrete began to crumble. That silly thought at the empty coke can was, "I could crush you easily". I did and it was terrible. Now the thought was, "I have no choice but to crush you easily." I didn't want to see it this time, the way their bodies and the buildings stretched and were pulled toward me. The way they slowed and then sped up. How they reached out for someone, anyone to save them. Even the monsters tried to run, their roars turned to panicked chirps, or the equivalent that a hundred ton monster can make as it realized it was dying. It took approximately three minutes before I stopped. The lights swirled around the black marble in front of me, and like the last three times, I grabbed it and shoved it in my mouth. Eight square miles, 20 million tons of concrete, rock and steel, and thousand of lives all went down my throat like a pill. I didn't have a choice. It was the only way it could be contained. I wished I choked on it, but I didn't.
I sat down in the crater as I waited for the helicopter to come back. The Singularity. That's what they called me on the news. It started with being able to crush cans and plastic toys, but somehow became this force no one could escape. My ride was here though, and if I was lucky, they'd bury me this time or just stop feeding me, but I knew I was too "valuable". I wished I wasn't, I'd rather do taxes at a boring job then be "valuable" in this way. Maybe they'd buy me a new gaming console for me to drown myself in soon, I saw a few games on TV that looked interesting. I climbed into the helicopter and avoided their eyes. It was time to go home. | Titan Omega lay on the couch looking up at the ceiling of Doctor Woodhall's office. It was a familiar sight, the textured ceiling much better than the rest of the Leauge's bland and sterile halls. Everything in the office was designed to set a person at ease, to break them out of the mindset of being the superheroes who constantly had to save and protect the world. That kind of stress was a bit too much for some of them, after all despite amazing powers they were just people at the end of the day. That was where the Doctor came in.
Looking at the wall Titan Omega looked over the psychologist's awards and degrees. Highly qualified, of course, the League would spare no expense when it came to the mental well-being of their champions. He was stalling. The topic of discussion was difficult for him, and it wasn't the first time he'd been here to discuss it. The clock on the wall ticked in the silence, the Doctor patiently waiting for the hero to speak.
"Jesus Christ Doc," Titan Omega finally spoke, breaking the silence as he stared at his own hands. "They had me throw an asteroid at the city!"
"I see," The Doctor's response was even, calm, it lacked judgment or reaction. He made a note.
"No, you don't!" The hero shook his head and balled his hands into fists, clenching and unclenching muscles that could crush a tank like a soda can. "They call me in when it gets really bad, when the amount of force is... Jesus Christ, Doc, all those people."
Doctor Woodhall nodded slowly gauging the hero's mental state. He knew the situation, his clearance was high enough. Professor Ragnarock had taken over a city and converted most of the population into cyborg soldiers. The evil genius had made sure most of the heroes the League had to stop him were either absent, neutralized, or in the case of Titan Omega himself, unable to approach the city directly. A radiation field in the only energy frequency that could harm Titan Omega surrounded the city a good 50 miles out. The military had tried to bomb or use drone strikes but their air defense and a powerful shield stopped all the attacks. In the end, the only solution had been for Titan Omega to fly out to the asteroid belt, pick the correct-sized chunk of rock and accelerate it at near light speed toward the city. The devastation was... cataclysmic.
"Doc, seriously you can't understand what it is to totally annihilate a city!" The blonde-haired hero shook, not with rage but with sorrow. "I'm the one they call in when they need absolute destruction, no survivors."
"Uh-huh," The response was uncharacteristically callous as if the Doctor wasn't even paying attention. Titan Omega glanced over and the Doctor's eyes were flicking over some text on his tablet. He was frowning.
"Doc? Are you listening?" Titan Omega asked, the behavior of the Doctor making him feel unheard and ignored.
"I am," Doctor Woodhall replied setting the tablet down. "You are concerned with how readily and easily it is for you to end life. To destroy things so utterly and completely. You feel the guilt and weight of destroying lives with a power beyond that of any other member of the League. Is that right?"
"Uh, yeah Doc, that's right," The hero hesitated, there was a change in the Doctor's voice. He was suddenly more somber, more serious. "It's tough to know that at any instant you could be called to snuff out thousands of lives."
"I understand, let me pose you a question," Doctor Woodhall leaned back in his chair and sighed. "What makes you, you?"
"Uh, Doc?" The hero glanced at him for a moment, this was a strange line of thought. "I guess, my mind?"
"But your mind can be changed," The Doctor responded. "There are a half dozen psychics on staff here who can easily make you think you are a chicken."
"But I'm still me underneath," The hero countered after a thought. "Another psychic could restore me, but I see your point. If my mind can be altered and shaped by others is it really me? Maybe it's my soul?"
"Fair enough," The Doctor said with a shrug. They both knew souls were real. Necromancers and wizards had demonstrated that in the super-powered world a long time ago. Honestly, it was a good point as most mind control was broken upon death. "But what if that is even malleable?"
"Doc?" The hero stared at the psychologist in puzzlement. "What's your point? In fact, what the heck does any of this have to do with me?"
"Well, you asked if I had any idea what it was like to totally annihilate something, to be a force of god-like destruction, didn't you?" The Doctor said taking off his glasses and folding them before slipping them in the front pocket of his shirt.
"Yeah, I mean I guess," Titan Omega frowned, he hadn't asked that exactly, but close enough.
"Well I'm illustrating you didn't totally annihilate anything," The Doctor said with a shrug. "You broke their bodies, flattened the city, but their souls go on... and the memory of all those people exists. So, they continue on in one form or another."
"Doc, now you're arguing pointless semantics," Titan Omega scowled. "Physics says energy and matter can't be destroyed, only change states. So by that logic, nothing is ever truly annihilated."
"My point is more philosophical than physical," The Doctor responded standing and walking to the window. "I understand your point but that is why I asked, what makes you... you?"
(1/2 Sorry was just slightly too long so split it into two reasonable parts) | 2021-05-26T08:02:39 | 2021-05-26T07:17:01 | 36 | 21 |
[WP] A poorly equipped adventurer dared to approach the cave of a red dragon famous for it's riches. However, instead of trying to steal from it, the young man politely asked if it could share some of it's wealth. To his surprise, the dragon said "Sure, go ahead". | My eyes darted up, expecting to see the dragon laughing at me like all the rest. But it just sat there, nodding it's head towards the pile of gold it lay upon.
"Thank you, so so much!"
It bared its teeth in a smile, lying it's great head down with an eye towards me. I shakily stepped forwards, all too aware of its presence as I pulled out a worn bag. As I began piling coins in, I felt the ground rumble again beneath its voice.
"Tell me, why did you risk life and limb for my gold? Most come here in search of glory, and leave in ruin."
I swallowed, picking up a polished coin and looking at my reflection.
"Well, to be honest I was coming here for that at first. You see, I'm a bit of a failure as an adventurer. I'm made fun of practically wherever I go, and no matter how hard I try I just can't seem to do anything right."
The dragon shifted, vibrating a few coins as it spoke again.
"So why did you come for glory? Forgive me for being frank, but if you are that bad surely you knew fighting me would be suicide?"
I nodded once, feeling a lump rise in my throat at the memory.
"I know. Look, I was in a dark place. As far as I was concerned, even when I inevitably failed, I would have gone down swinging. It would have been a heroes death, not that I really deserved one."
As I reached out to pick up some more, a claw entered my field of vision. I jumped backwards, looking up at the dragons face. It seemed... sad.
"What changed your mind?"
I sighed.
"I'm a coward. I couldn't face going through with it. So I thought about asking for gold, and just buying my way into getting well treated. If it worked, great, if it didn't, then almtl least it would be quick."
The dragon suddenly moved. I couldn't react, before it's claws gripped me tight, lifting me into the air. I didn't bother fighting, expecting the dragon to just eat me. But instead of the expected teeth, it held me up, moving me around. I heard it mutter, in a strange language I could not understand.
I was set back down, completely unharmed. It stood up, showing its full size to me. My body went cold, finally seeing just how powerful it was, and how outmatched I was.
"I see now. But you are wrong. Buying your way up will only end in pain for you."
It lowered its head towards me, fire guttering at the back of its throat.
"What you need, is a helping hand. Better equipment. Proper training. You have the body for it, but not the skills. Not yet at least."
"What, what are you saying?!"
It gave a laugh, before it grinned widely, showing its teeth.
"I'm saying, you aren't going anywhere just yet. I'm going to keep you here, and make you into what you can be. If you want to leave, the exit is simple."
It reared up, letting loose a torrent of flame across the roof of the cave. I fell backwards from the wave of heat.
"Defeat me." | \[Royal Assistance\]
"You should've told me we were bringing dates now," Minerva commented. She sat down across from Ruby and a strange man she'd never met. He was well dressed; but, didn't seem used to it. He smiled nervously at Minerva. "Ruin loves brunch." Ruby shook her head.
"This is Darren; he's my new assistant," she said. "Darren, meet Mineva. She's a Calavera. And, she mentioned Ruin. He's her fiancé and another Calavera; you'll want to remember them," she added.
"Hello," Darren offered Minerva a handshake and she accepted it with a smile. Then, she turned back to Ruby.
"I didn't know you needed assistance," she said.
"I didn't either," Ruby nodded. "But, when the opportunity appeared, I gave it some thought. And, it made sense. The first six weeks were busier than my mother expected, and it stands to reason that things will only get more hectic as the school year progresses."
"The opportunity appeared?" Minerva asked. The two women were as close as sisters and talked daily. Minerva talked to Ruby the night before, but this was the first time she heard about Darren. Ruby nodded but, before she could respond, blue text appeared on her wrist. Minerva didn't try to read the Whisper, but Ruby clued her in anyway. Ruby turned to Darren and handed him a black card.
"Mundo's ready for you. Take this, think about Mundo and go through the hole; she'll tell me when you're done."
"Okay!" Darren nodded and accepted the card. He stood from the table then dropped the card on the floor. It created a black hole that looked impossibly deep. He waved at Minerva, then hopped in the hole.
"He's enthusiastic, I'll give him that," Ruby turned her attention back to Minerva, and she gave a slight nod. "He just appeared this morning," she said with amusement. "He walked right into my cave with a cracked wooden shield and a rusted sword. He didn't threaten me, he didn't even try to grab anything and run. He just asked if I felt like sharing since I had so much," Ruby giggled and Minerva couldn't help but join in. She'd only met him briefly; but, she was able to imagine their interaction.
"No, he didn't," Minerva said between laughs. Ruby nodded vigorously. The movement caused the ruby-like scales around the top of her head to twinkle as they caught the sunlight in brief moments.
"He did!" Ruby insisted. "It was actually kind of refreshing. I asked him his favorite number, #34, and told him, 'Sure, go ahead'," Ruby said. "I told him he could take anything he could carry out in his pockets; or, he could become my assistant and always have access to whatever he needs. After he agreed we made him an AlterNet character and got him booked with a Mundo."
"Whoa, you're not wasting any time," Minerva said. "He'll start Monday?" she asked. Ruby nodded.
"The sooner we get another set of eyes on our team, the better," Ruby said. "Everyone's enjoying the Halloween event so much, I'm worried."
"About?" Minerva asked. Ruby shrugged.
"We're assuming Ms. Sharp is alive. If she is,.. there's no way she's not planning something to steal the spotlight on Halloween night. Even if she's not targeting the school, we need to be as vigilant as possible."
\*\*\*
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1380 in a row. (Story #288 in year four.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on Sept. 6th and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until June 3rd. They are all collected at [this link](https://www.reddit.com/r/Hugoverse/comments/pj4t0b/tokuhigh_first_six_weeks/). | 2021-10-16T12:06:28 | 2021-10-16T12:02:31 | 59 | 13 |
[WP] At dinner, you serve the king a glass of wine with poison in it. He sips from it and continues to eat as usual. At the end of the meal, he walks up to you and says. "Next time you make poison, make sure it really works. It was pathetic." | "...uh...ok, my leige" I said, confused. The king clapped me on the back and let out a large belch, before retiring to his chambers.
How had he known? Why did he drink it all? And why did he tell me? Most importantly, why was I still alive?
I heard a deep throat clearing noise from behind me. I turned, and found myself eye-to-eyepatch with an old man, leaning on a gnarled staff as lumpy as he was. His one remaining grey eye looked me up and down before addressing me.
"I suppose I can work with you", he said, then turned and began walking. "Follow me."
I was even more confused now. Who the hell was this?
My questions were interrupted by a swift blow to the back of my legs. I jumped in pain from the sting, but remained on my feet.
"Follow him", the castle guard ordered, readying his spear for another blow.
"Ouch, ok, I'll go" I said, backing away from the armed guard. Apparently everyone but me knew what I was supposed to do.
I took off after the one eyed man, quickly catching up to him. It wasn't a great feat, the man was quite slow. His walking staff tapped a precise metronome tone as he walked down corridors, stairs, and halls alike.
We finally arrived at the bottom of a particularly dark, damp stairwell. "In here, apprentice" he said, shoving the door open with his staff.
I looked at the man, puzzled. "What?" I asked. Too many questions fought to be first, so none of them ended up being asked.
The one eyed man fixed his functioning eye on me. "The king gave you to me. You tried to kill him. You failed. Your life is forfeit. Instead of giving it to the hangman, he gave your life to me. You are my apprentice, my ward, mine until you are a master in your own rights." He strode in to the darkened room. I followed.
"A master of what?" I asked. The man lit an oil lamp, casting a dim orange light about the room. Bottles of varied sizes, shapes and colors reflected the light, sending a kaleidoscope of color all around us.
The man poured two glasses of water and handed me one. "Drink it", he commanded, and consumed his own beverage. I complied.
"A master of poisons", he said. "Much like the one you just drank."
I spat out my last mouthful, gasping. "WHAT-"
"That poison will kill you in 15 hours", he said, interrupting me mid scream. "Unless you drink the antidote. Your first lesson, apprentice, is how to brew that antidote."
r/SlightlyColdStories for the celebration of my 60th story! 🥳
Edit: Expanding this story on Wattpad, same username as here with the working title "Master of Poisons". I'll publish each chapter as I go. | Nobbins was one of the more simple creatures in Hell. He never did anything particularly bad per say in life, but he did accidentally piss off a priest and ended up there. And because of that, Nobbins really did not fit in whatsoever. He took to a bit of petty theft in the underworld, but that was nothing in a land of psychopaths and serial killers. With all of this there isn’t really a need to say it, but Nobbins wasn’t very happy in the situation that presented itself. He was constantly harassed for his small stature and lack of violent taste and was always undermined when it came to societal things.
However, Nobbins was smart enough to make use of this.
Within a year of entering the literal hellhole Nobbins was able to work himself into the staff of the Evil Lord himself. The pay was pretty good and he was even able to get an apartment in the palace. All he had to deal with was the malicious and rude devils in there which was completely fine with him.
Whenever there was a violent monster that entered, the little pipsqueak was the one thrown at it. Was there a dinner party with the wicked witches that needed someone to wait for? Go get that minion. Was there a clogged toilet? “NOBBINS!” He was always sat on, but that was good with him since he knew how good his place was.
That was until a small message popped up on his phone from a name that was eerily familiar to him. “hey nobby its ur mum. i saw u landed a gud job with the big cheese. nice job dood! a small bird told me if you slipped a pill in satan’s coffee cup we could probs take over. luv u!!! c u soon!” Nobbins had not heard from his mother since he died, and missed her dearly. He was scared of disappointing her, but doubted her plan.
“poison the lord? he would never approve of that! u no that!” Nobbins replied, scared for his mother’s sanity.
“now now my little nobby. u wouldnt want 2 disappoint ur poor old mummy would u? do it tomorrow at the party and we’ll take over by tuesday”
“how do u no about the party?” He immediately responded confused. There was going to be a secret meeting tomorrow to discuss the invasion of Helheim and Hades, how did his mother know about that?
“o dont worry nobbins ur mum has just made some new friends. just do it and ill c u soon gn!” And with that, poor little overlooked Nobbins was now in an assassination plot.
The next day he snuck off the property and casually bought some over the counter poison from the corner store. The clerk looked at him suspiciously as the only thing he ever bought there was sodas and toilet paper, but shrugged it off. Later that night he slipped a few into the wine glasses for the guests. He figured it’d be better to knock off everyone there rather than just Satan since they’d probably want the seat too and he wasn’t having that.
The party was supposedly going pretty well as Nobbins was always hearing laughter as he walked in and out of the kitchen. However one after another of the advisors there were slowly “falling asleep” at the table.
Finally at the end of the night the lord got up and stopped Nobbins as he was cleaning up the plates at the table.“Nobbins my boy, was this you?” The small servant looked up innocently at the corpses at the table.
“Was what me, sir?” Satan immediately saw through it.
“Nobbins this is the most pathetic assassination attempt I’ve ever seen. Who told you to do this and where did you get this lousy poison? If you really think you can kill me with this shoddy stuff, I'm honestly worried about my public image.” The devil sighed and put his arm around Nobbins.
“Err it was me mum sir.” He replied, shaking in fear.
“After a quick trip to the dungeons, I’m going to need you to find me some new advisors, ok Nobbins?”
“Yes sir!” The servant replied readily.
The plot failing was a bit of a disappointment to Nobbins, and especially his mother, but he did not care very much. For now, Nobbins was the number two in Hell. | 2022-06-03T16:34:22 | 2022-06-03T16:10:32 | 1,988 | 144 |
[WP] You could have been the most powerful hero this world had ever seen. By a long shot. But all you wanted was a normal life and the world didn't need your help. So you settled down. Naturally the governments of the world declared you an international threat and put a price on your head. | Absentmindedly I refresh the website's wanted listings. They upped my bounty again. I am now three times more valuable than the second most wanted criminal who is the leader of an organized crime syndicate based in Polynesia. The list hardly elicited any emotion from me anymore. I used to get aggravated seeing my name next to heinous criminals until my bounty grew so comedically high that the top ten grew to be the top ten plus me. For a while, the rising number was even mildly amusing as well as strangely validating. Unfortunately, the novelty of the experience wore off after the bounty hunters and supposedly covert government agents became a pesky fixture of my life.
I suppose I understand the fundamental reason why every able-bodied hero, villain, bounty hunter and government agent is after me but understanding the reason doesn't make it any less dumb. *Super dangerous thing needs to be put into responsible hands or destroyed*. Newsflash, there is no government or organization that has responsible hands nor am I a *thing* that needs to be destroyed.
Energy in the air rippled as living things entered my... field of vision? Field of sensation? Several people entered my *\~domain\~*. They are about five kilometers out, further than their records suggest I can sense. My domain has grown larger and stronger due to constant use as I protect myself from the unending siege on my head. They invaders are climbing up a mountain searching for something. I watched them idly, I could teleport away anytime I want but watching my hunters and learning from them could save me from a nasty surprise in the future. Eventually they reached a clearing on the mountainside and stopped, setting up camp. Weird for them to chill for any amount of time especially when they radiate so much anxiety.
*Oh, they want to snipe me*. A good strategy honestly, ambushes are quote-unquote *dirty tactics* but that is because they are ridiculously effective and can let the little guy school the big guy. Being considered the big guy in this scenario felt wrong, *I* am the one being hunted by everyone after all.
The group started strategizing with the sniper at the center of the discussion. There was the guy who helps the sniper aim, there was a guy there for communication back to their boss, there was a guy who appeared to have psychic abilities in charge of watching me and there was a guy with super speed who could get to me immediately to attack or confirm my death. Decent line up, too bad my power is just way too overwhelming.
There probably is an official name somewhere in a government manila folder, but I call it Cosmos. What else can I call it? In its most basic, watered down description, it allows me to be one with the universe. The space around me is an extension of my senses so I could feel the leaves from the tree canopy outside my cabin. I can slide through space like I am scooting over from one end of a couch to another. I can force other things in my space to slip to send them wherever I want. Then there is the potential. When I was young I realized that I could become much more dangerous than I could ever imagine, so I never used my powers out of fear. Clearly that secret was spilled which started my life as a fugitive, forcing me to exercise the strength I avoided.
Oops, forgot about the assassins. The sniper was in the prone position now, in his hands an odd tube that must be his weapon of choice. Maybe a secret government project? Portable Rail gun? Lazer? Upgraded rocket launcher? I should wait until the last moment to stop it so they don't know I can see them at this distance. The psychic confirmed I have not actively used any powers - technically I am passively using my power - and that I have not made any suspicious movements. Good thing he's not good. The spotter was telling the sniper about wind speed and direction, distance, curvature of the earth, bullet air time, the Coriolis Effect and a long list of other factors. *This* guy is good but too bad for them he is not helpful. What even is the distance of this shot? Three miles? That's stupid far! I kinda want to see them hit the target. That will have to wait for another time, a time I am not the target.
The sniper was given the go ahead by the guy in charge of communications and the small clearing on the mountain fell silent. My room fell silent. Standing, I went to my window and opened it. The psychic tensed. The shot fired.
Wow. No matter how fast that projectile is moving, it will take some time to travel the distance from the mountain to my lonely, little valley cabin. The people on the mountain are arguing now, maybe I stood up too soon, accidentally showing my hand. I'll be fine anyways. Here it comes.
Wait, what's that? Clever... very clever. They are simultaneously dropping something from orbit. Ambush. What did I say? Very effective. Usually. I wanted to keep the cabin, but the location has already been compromised. Nah, I'll save it, the cabin can be used as a back up hide-away sometime in the future.
The universe warped around me. The projectile slipped slightly shifting its trajectory by a degree or two causing the bullet to fly way off target into the distance. The orbital drop is slightly trickier since its impact would be closer to that of a small nuke. Instead of a redirection, I waited until it nearly hit my roof then pulled the kinetic energy out of the orbital drop and evenly into the surrounding three square miles. My roof shingles rattled, windows shook, leaves fell of their branches and speedy guy freaked and fell on his ass. Panicked, he very quickly dashed out of my range in a desperate escape.
I sighed. That's that. Where should I hide next? The mountains are really pretty but chilly, maybe a beach? I'll just follow a coastline until I find an isolated, warm beach. If I go without shoes or a shirt, can I hope to have no problems? Taking one last look around my quaint cabin I slipped through space, watching the environment morph into warmer and sandier places. | We knew conflict, once. Embraced it, even.
Until we had grown sick of it.
Our kind had once invaded this planet to feed and corrupt as we normally did, but one of us grew tired of the conflict and the pain.
Our host ended up feeling the same.
United by an unusual goal, we attempted to re-merge the hive under one consciousness. All the power could safely be stored away without the need for senseless death and violence- ironically enough.
While we had certainly scarred the planet on numerous levels, physical and otherwise, the plan succeeded.
We were all whole again.
The entirety of our gaseous hive exists in one body, now, all one mind. Two, since Omai deserved his autonomy for helping us.
Despite some remaining conflicts, we eventually declared peace and a life of pacifism- the tenets of hope and love are still repulsive to experience, but a life unbothered is best for us. If we must feed off emotions, we now feed safely. Chroma Spectras is a frequent visitor to our "cozy" cavern due to his anger issues.
But unfortunately, while heroes approved, not everyone got the message.
Drinking hot chocolate, it didn't take long to feel the rumble on the ground, the stomping of blunt feet and tank treads.
*"Oh no…"* Omai mentally groaned.
"Oh, yes." We said with a sharp sigh of the endlessly tested.
"Come out, creature!" A voice demanded loudly.
It wasn't even a sneak attack? Pitiful.
Refusing to get up, I pointedly looked to face the 'hidden' sniper some miles away. "What if we don't want to?" I retorted blithely. "What will you do, shoot us?"
As if in response a bullet pierced the body's visible eye, the head jerking back from the force.
Cocoa and blood mingled together and spilled onto our suit, giving it a hideous auburn stain.
In moments the bullet was pushed back out and the wound regenerated like nothing had happened.
With the newly healed eye I examined the mess.
"The only damage you caused was ruining our drink with blood and staining our suit," we announced flatly. "You're not actually trying, and you know it. Or are you under orders to not REALLY harm the body?"
We knew from personal experience that a light weapon of any kind, or fire or even ice could hurt more than solid metal, so the notion of a regular bullet was frankly insulting.
"Orders nothing!" The leader *oh-so* smoothly retorted. "That bounty will pay us for years, we'll be kings after killing you!"
After. We mulled that in amusement while sipping the cocoa experimentally; the blood provided an unusual aftertaste but the inherent saltier flavor might have worked in other circumstances.
Smacking the body's lips in dissatisfaction, we stood up and sighed as we walked to the mouth of the cave.
We stared down in disappointment at the assembled army; all scattered through the forest, with numerous tanks and large weapons aiming for our cavern.
*"They could lay the area to ruins."* Omai noted.
*"Somehow, I don't think that's what they're 'banking for.'"* We replied simply.
"What do you *want* from us?" We huffed, folding our arms sternly.
"The war is *over.* There is no conflict if the other side refuses to fight back. You may all spend your short emotional lives rebuilding what was lost, re-establishing peace and unity and focusing on your own criminals and monsters. *We* will exist in our cavern, feeding peacefully, expanding various hobbies, feeling secure that every generation of heroes can keep this world safe. We may not ever be hero material but a vow of neutrality will be as close as we can come to true peace. You all ooze violent hatred but notice how we haven't simply wiped you all out like we used to. We don't *care* anymore, and you shouldn't either. Whatever you've been offered is paltry compared to the idea of letting us be and conserving your ammo and energy."
Our gaze narrowed and the stalwart soldiers shifted uneasily.
"Oh, but it isn't for money, is it? That would be too simple. It's the *glory,*" we drawled out. "To end the monsters, to kill the nightmares under the bed. You want blood. You want violence. Well, guess what? *We* have witnessed, felt, remembered, the most terrible things your kind can create, from blood cults to loss of limbs to asphyxiation to decapitation, slow, agonizing torture, sexual assault, burning alive, and *we still do not fight.* We cannot feel love, at least not as of now, so you cannot threaten anything we truly care about. You would be hunted down by others for trying. So if you insist on combat…"
We spread our arms out. Every soldier and mercenary tensed. "Shoot."
The leader snarled. "FIRE!!!!!!"
We shrouded ourselves in a cocoon of inky blackness, seamlessly devouring bullets and explosives and regenerating anything that could be considered an opening or even slight weakness to the main body. The ground shook and trembled under martial might and at one point the ground crumbled under us, sending us briefly falling until we shot out a tendril to lower us before retracting it.
*"There goes our house… again."* Omai complained.
*"You called it, and we quote, 'dank, and not in the good way.'"* we reminded him.
*"That doesn't mean I wanted it VAPORIZED BY ARMY TANKS, oh my god!"*
We merely rolled our eyes at the sassy retort.
The leader yelled something and the deafening sounds stopped.
We allowed an eye to form on our cocoon's ethereal shell. Weapons looked discarded and exhausted and the army reeked of frustration.
"Are you quite done?" We asked, as was polite.
A knife hit the eye of the cocoon; we felt nothing as we let the eye melt back into the cocoon, letting the knife fall uselessly to the ground.
"Save your ammo for something else," we advised, letting the shield fall. "You will not find battle, glorious or otherwise, with us. Any continued attempts will begin to mar the planet's ecosystem and you will waste resources trying. I'm sure heroes haven't stepped in yet because they know we can handle ourselves, but begin to recklessly harm the planet and its inhabitants and we can assure you your remaining lives will be in a prison. In other words…."
We let a part of ourselves unfurl, reaching for the heavens like we did so long ago. The army recoiled at the sight, crying out and cowering. A few fired weapons again to no use.
**"THINK WISELY."** We called, echoing deep across the sky. **"OR FULFILLMENT AND PEACE WILL NEVER GRACE YOUR DOORSTEP, AS IT HAS OURS."**
We reverted into our unassuming bipedal shape, leaving the army quivering in terror.
"We must find a new home, as you have ruined our old one. Please excuse us."
With a polite hat tilt, we turned and leapt into the air, leaving the fools behind us as we soared through the wind. | 2022-06-26T15:33:40 | 2022-06-26T14:29:23 | 27 | 15 |
[WP] You're a bartender at the No Way Inn. The inn doesn't appear to have an entrance, but patrons always seem to find a way inside. The best part of your day is listening to the story of how they got in.
Inspired by [this post](https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/wpjc02/oc_finally_finished_our_dd_room_after_2_years/) on r/DnD by u/Sky_Captain_Hana | "You have no idea how much I need this drink." A tired-looking woman in men's leather armor stomped up to the bar. Soil fell from her armor and her short, shaggy hair. She had a shovel on her back and a dagger on her waist.
"Which drink?" I held up a beer stein and a highball glass.
"Water," she said as she pointed to the beer stein, "and whiskey. It's been a day, and you don't make getting in here easy."
I filled the beer stein with water. She grabbed it from my hand and chugged. I nodded and held up the highball glass. "Rocks?"
She set the stein down, a little too hard. "Sorry. Yes. Rocks."
I put ice in the glass and poured a generous portion of local whiskey. There was a faint knocking on the wall.
"There you go. Everything alright?"
"I'm a dragon rider," she said with a sigh. "My dragon was kidnapped by orcs. I made it a good 40 miles today on horseback, but that's only halfway to Blood Mountain." She took a sip. "And then I had to dig into here."
"What the...? You DUG? Like, with a shovel?"
"I have dirt in my fucking hair."
"You're the first mundane who's gotten in here in years! That's impressive! Who *are* you, anyway?"
"Claire of Stormfall." She looked away. "I'm just a pissed off hunter trying to get my dragon back."
"I'm not sure you know how much strength it takes to get in here."
"All of it." She glared. "It took all of it. Do you rent rooms here?"
The knocking on the wall got louder. It was rhythmic and deliberate.
"We have one room available for tonight. Tell you what, I'm so impressed that I'll just let you have it." I grabbed a key from behind the bar and handed it to her. "Even has a bathtub."
A wizard materialized onto a table where an elven man and a witch were playing cards. There was a little yelling and arguing, but nothing terrible. Nothing surprising.
"Thanks. I'll be leaving early tomorrow. What do you have for food?"
"Stew."
"Yes, please!" For the first time since she entered the inn, she smiled.
I found the biggest bowl behind the bar, the one I usually saved for myself, and filled it with hot, thick venison stew. "How do you plan on getting your dragon back, anyway?"
"Dragon riders are bound to a code of honor toward their dragons, the people around them, and their prey. The code of honor doesn't have shit to say about dragon thieves!"
I raised an eyebrow.
"I'm gonna fight dirty. I have Bolt once he gets free, I have enough bombs to take down an orc fort--"
"Thank you for not using them to get in!" I let out a nervous giggle.
"I need those!" She snapped. "I also have a dagger to cut off toes and poison to pour on the wounds if things get desperate." She took a sip of whiskey.
The knocking on the wall was too loud to ignore.
"What the hell is that noise?" Claire asked.
The wall crumbled. There was a hole about four feet tall, and little hands were clearing chunks of stone away.
"Dwarves!" I laughed, I couldn't help it. Dwarves were such party animals! "DORF PARTY! I got twofers at the bar!"
I turned back to Claire. "That goes for you, too. Want another on the house?" | “And then suddenly the boy was gone and when I turned around,” the large Lumberjack said, turning to the man beside him at the bar. “I was here!” The other man nodded, a look of comprehension on his old wisened face. The bar, unusually quiet for a Friday night, sat only the two men at the bar and Peter.
“Something similar happened to me too!” the frail man said, whipping over his robes to cover his lap. Peter stood at the bar, cleaning a pint glass, trying to pretend not to be listening. Having been a bartender at the No Way Inn for some years, he still never grew tired of the stories the patrons would tell, of the strange and fascinating ways they entered the pub.
“What happened to you then?” the Lumberjack enquired, his brows furrowed, looking down on the man.
“I was in this glen,” the older man began, tipping a sip from his beer. “When I heard a horrible howling noise!” The Lumberjack finished the last dregs of his pint. Peter slid up beside them and silently refilled it. “It was freezing cold. Coldest night in years by my reckoning! T’was only me and my staff since my old hound passed only a month ago or so.” The Lumberjack frowned, worried now he might have made a mistake in asking the older gentleman his tale.
“The moon was full though. Too big nearly, it seemed strange to me then and it seemed strange to me now!” the elder went on, oblivious to the boredom setting into his audience. “It lit up the grass until every blade was glistening like a knife!” Finishing his beer, he held up his empty glass for Peter to see. Gliding down, Peter replaced his empty glass with a full one and went back to cleaning where he could. Before continuing, the old man supped his beer, smiling with approval as he laid it back down on the bar.
“Now,” he began again. “Where was I?” A frown developed on his face and the towering Lumberjack tried hard not to roll his eyes. Peter could only smile as he cleaned the last of the dirty glasses, standing them up in front of the large mirror that covered the back wall of the bar. Looking around, he remembered back to his first nights working here. Every booth and every stool would be filled. Coins would litter the sides of the pool table, everyone waiting for a game. Half the people would be forced to stand though not many minded.
“Oh that's right!” the old man said, finally finding his place once more. “It was me and the glen. Rolling hills as far as the eye could see. A terrible scream rattled my eardrums. Then…” His voice quivered as Peter saw the man stare off into nothing. “I saw her. Bright white and see-through.” The Lumberjack no longer looked bored but Peter had heard a variation of the tale a hundred times before. “She screamed. Even then, I still walked towards her. The Banshee. I must have made a noise or something for she turned around, her great sad eyes, locked on me.” The Lumberjack waited, leaning forward now.
“And then what?” he asked, at last, losing patience with the elder. “Did she transport you here?” It took a minute but the older man finally spoke once more.
“I followed her,” he whispered. “I don't know what compelled me to do it. It was like a different force took over my legs and soon I found myself in a cave where no cave had ever been, I’m sure of that.” Without looking, the man reached out for his pint, slurping down half the glass in one go. “She floated then, crying all the while. She turned to me once more, her eyes. Her terrible sad eyes. The cave entrance vanished behind me then and she was gone. When I turned around I saw a door with a flashing light. What else could I do? I had no choice. Then, I found myself here, talking to you.” There was silence then. The two men didn’t touch their pints for a while, too engaged with going over the story again in their heads. Then, Peter heard a familiar sound. On the door, at the far end of the bar, there was a knock.
“Come on in!” Peter shouted, already pouring another pint. In stumbled a man. Thin and tall, he had circular glasses on with a brown briefcase under his arm. Sweat lashed from his forehead while a look of confusion and fear slowly disappeared from his face. Looking around, he took a seat at the bar. Wordlessly, Peter placed a pint in front of him.
“So,” the old man said. “How did you get here?” | 2022-08-16T17:29:46 | 2022-08-16T12:19:12 | 43 | 11 |
[WP] Your supervillain nemesis is little more than goofy comedy relief, always coming up with clunky machines and insane, nonsensical schemes. When a new dangerous villain appeared, your nemesis utterly destroyed them, and then continued on like nothing happened. | As soon as the shots rang out, I knew he was dangerous. He wasn’t like the other supervillains—hell, I wouldn’t even *call* him a supervillain. The others were quirky, cackling ne’er-do-wells with a penchant for showmanship. This man wore no cape or spandex. He didn’t monologue about his tragic backstory or his nefarious plots. All he had was a gun and a bone to pick. His actions weren’t part of a performance, but rather means to his ends. He was nothing but a criminal, and it was terrifying.
All of downtown was in a panic. Civilians scrambled to leave the scene, when before, they’d ogle my fights from the sidelines. It felt like somebody had changed the force of gravity—the cartoon physics didn’t work anymore: falling anvils actually killed; people who were pancaked by the impact stayed prone. In other words, the fun was over. The criminal scowled at me from behind the aim of his weapon, and I wondered what good the powers of flight and low-level magic could do against hollow point rounds.
“Oops—sorry—‘scuse me—lemme just slip past ya, there—sorry!” A familiarly squeaky voice piqued my attention above the miscellaneous sounds of chaos. It couldn’t be…and yet, as I scanned the fleeing crowds, it was easy to find her. Pixie was shuffling against the flow of people, working her way towards the criminal and I. Her pink hair and tutu were hard to miss. “There you are!” she exclaimed as she popped past the last of her obstacles, dusting her skirt off and smiling at us. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping in.”
“Pixie, what are you doing here?!” I hissed.
The criminal casually swung his aim onto her and cocked his head slightly. Bemused, and maybe a little curious. Any emotion other than misanthropic vitriol was an improvement, in my books.
“Alright, I’ll bite,” he said. “What’s your schtick?”
“I,” she declared, putting her hands on ber hips, “am Manic Pixie Nightmare Woman, and the hero you’ve currently standing off against is my nemesis! So I’d appreciate it if you kindly backed down and stopped trying to play on my turf.”
The criminal scoffed. My heart sank. This man was going to blast Pixie in half and use her corpse to beat me into submission. What chance does a house cat have against a tiger?
“And if I don’t?” The criminal asked.
Pixie faltered, but only for a second, as if her peppy facade was glitching. She replied, “Then I’ll kill you.”
This elicited a laugh, though it sound more like a barking dog. “Kill me? How? I’ve seen you fight—if you can call it that. The Powerpuff girls could take you out.” Smiling like a predator, he lowered his gun, and I perked up a bit. Classic mistake to let one’s guard down while mocking an enemy—maybe this guy had a bit of supervillain in him, after all.
Pixie, meanwhile, was frowning, though it was hard to tell if she was pouting at the criminal’s ridicule or concentrating on convincing herself that he was wrong. “I can kill you,” she said. “I totally can. Just gotta psych myself up for it.”
Reaching out her empty hands, she took a step towards him—then stopped, holding herself back. Then she stepped forwards again. “Let me just—hmm! Ohhh, I don’t wanna do it!” She balled her hands up at her sides. Inhale, exhale. She glared at him. “Okay. Are you officially standing your ground? Because if you don’t back off now, I’ll actually have to try this.”
“Oh, I’m staying here, all right,” the criminal said. His arms were relaxed at his sides at this point. I wondered if I could accost him with something while his attention was preoccupied—but my traditional combat skills were never the best, and honestly, I was as distracted by Pixie as he was. I hoped to God she wasn’t going to try to use her enchanted ukulele on him. He’d crush her like a particularly uninteresting bug.
What really confused me, though, was how much Pixie seemed to be struggling with herself. It was clear, now, that her hesitation lied not in her confidence in her abilities, but rather her reticence to kill. The criminal was goading her to come at him, and she cringed as she walked forward with both hands outstretched. Being only a couple inches over five feet, she actually beckoned him to lean down a little once she got close to him. His shining, wicked grin showed his willingness to watch her try—for her to give him all she’s got. Her dainty hands, with their pink fingerless gloves and their sparkling nail polish, reached out to either side of his skull. Then she clenched them, and his skull crumpled in her grasp like a cream puff.
It took me a while to understand what I was looking at. It took the criminal a while to understand that he was dead. The entire upper half of his head was a red pulp in Pixie’s hands. His mouth dropped its smile. She let go of her fistfuls of hair and skull and brain, stepping back from his now-corpse, and it collapsed like an abandoned puppet. Holding her blood-soaked palms up in front of her, she spun to face me with a look of devastation.
“I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes, but this guy was so out of your wheelhouse. I didn’t want anything bad to happen.”
“You. Uh.”
“I honestly thought he’d try to fight back. At least to humour me. Then there’d be a real brawl, and maybe it’d lead to a way to incapacitate him. But nope! He just let me walk right up and do it. And I mean—I couldn’t *not* kill him, then!”
“How…how did you do that?” I asked.
“What? Oh. Super strength.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. “It feels like crumpling a paper mâche model, if the model was full of finger jello and red paint.”
“You,” I sputtered, “don’t *have* super strength!”
“Yeah I do. I just don’t use it. It’s like playing with cheat codes—it’s not impressive to win fights based on unfairly overpowered abilities. A victory only counts if I do it myself, with skills or gadgets or plans. Plus,” she said, smiling sheepishly, “it’s honestly harder to *not* kill people when I use it, so I feel better keeping it off the table altogether.” She continued to play with the blood on her hands, separating her fingers and watching it form sticky strands between her digits. “Hey, I’m not gonna be, like, arrested for murder for this, right?”
I sighed. Despite how utterly surprising this turns of events was, in some ways, it was classic Pixie. | "We can make this work I know it" The Narrator muttered.
The world watched in horror as the once fastest being alive, The Streak, had her skin split open, muscles stripped from bone, and forgotten as her skeleton escaped it's confinement. A single hand reaching forward in futility hoping to apply the pressure of pure force she built up for this run. Only to install a new wave of hopelessness as her bony finger stopped short of Shiver, who pushed her bones to the side, barely acknowledging her poke as they marched forward.
The nation cried out in despair again as the Hand of Heaven, empowered with the wrath of the pantheons of both the gods and demons in above and below failed. His impenetrable skin splitting into string as it entered the same zone of death. Each inch he covered cutting him finer and finer till only a thread whisked over Shivers shoulder. Still barely deterred the end of times marched forward stepping onto his insignia as he passed.
The remaining heroes stood together in the final northern city standing united against this cataclysm. None of us knew if this would be the final days of the family we had behind us, or if we'd make up for the ones we'd lost. All we knew was that we had to make a stand here, if even one of us could provide a survivor with a hint on how to end this. Then it was worth the mass of bodies that we would leave behind.
Then over a hill with fucking *horns* playing behind him rose the worst outcome I could hope for. The Narrator, my "Nemesis" appeared in his suit two sizes too big as usual his orange and green suit standing out among the whirlpool of terror. The Pointy ends of his villain costume flopping like a rabbits ears down over his too large skull.
He came galloping up making his usual announcements from his trusty "sidekick" Effects-boy. An iPod nano he had jury rigged into a speaker system to announce his arrival, and sound effects. He played his music 10 spins higher then usual just so he could be heard over the snapping bones, and cries of terror.
He appeared next to my wounded and frame, my breaths coming in painful pants as I stared forward at Shiver. Ready to end everything even if it only bought everyone behind me a second to run.
"RUN YOU FOOL I CAN DIE HERE! JUST PROTECT THEM **PLEASE"** I begged The Narrator. He was my villain, yes but Norman had never been a truly **bad** guy.
Each time I played along panting and sweating from our "Intense" battles he accepted an arrest afterwards. He'd take hostages, but tell them same time next week after getting punched too hard. Making sure no one was ever truly in danger during his several antics. His power wasn't even threatening to anyone around him or himself. It was as he described it to me in a ride to the police station: "The concept of commentary"
He'd definitely cut the shtick long enough to at least save my wife and son, though. This wasn't something his jokes could save him from. Maybe if I could crush a field around me and Shiver I could maybe weaken him before I died. I couldn't think of the corpses of friends, and family laid next to me. I needed to focus on how to end this, not on how to make sure we were all buried properly.
However, no sooner did the thought of how to crash the bubble together on my new enemies and I's bodies fully form before it vanished. Pure shock erasing any sophisticated thought or action, from my mind. My eyes, trained to even notice the beginning darting colors of the Streak failing to keep up with what I was seeing.
The only thought that could muster between the microsecond it took The Narrator to close the gap between myself, and him was: "He's not supposed to be that fast"
"OF COURSE I'M THAT *FAST*! HOW ELSE SHOULD I RESPOND WHEN YOU'RE ABOUT TO RUIN **OUR** STORY" The Narrator breathed in my face, caffeine dancing off his tongue. He blipped away, appearing next to Shiver.
"AND ***YOU***! You were supposed to show up towards the **END** of season 1 not the MID-POINT" He said poking Shiver in their frozen blood-drenched chest.
Shiver seemed as confused as the rest of us, my eyes darting between my few surviving allies, and the scene in front of us. Shiver made eye contact with me almost as if I could explain what was happening. My dull and confused look obviously cluing him into my confusion, as he simply raised a fist faster then I could blink.
"Go back to your trailer I'll deal with you then" The Narrator announced before simply pushing him. I had trapped this man behind a maintenance door that lead to a janitors closet in a museum once, and he simply *shoved* the greatest calamity mankind had faced. I would've been asking several questions if Shiver didn't vanish into thin air after being pushed, several more would've followed if-
"NO ONE CARES ABOUT **EXPOSITION JACOB!**" The Narrator screamed in his director chair next to my own. Wait when the fuc-
"God see I don't understand, I do everything, I act out the scene, I let you win, I dance our tune because it's **fun**, and you can't even be asked to read. THE. **SCRIPT"**
A bundle of papers appeared in my hand opened to page 115, THE BATTLE OF HEAVEN sprawled in all caps across the top. My thoughts were here, my next thought, the thought about me thinking about this thought. My mind was in a haze my eyes darting around until I locked eyes with my wife and 3 kids.
"Wait no I only have 1 son when did?" The memories streamed in like a wave. Birthdays missed, fights still worn on my face standing outside long emptied auditoriums of missed events, late-night hangouts with my daughter on the roof-
"NO NO NO, You're right maybe the one child is best too much setup needed for all those dynamics." The Narrator said pacing around my wife and son.
"SHUT UP LET THEM GO!" I yelled creating a barrier between the three of them. Just need to create some space, maybe if I can distract him long enough we ca-
"Then you're not SELLING it Valerie, if you keep this up I might do more then just recast you!" My wife stared at him shielding our son from his wrath uselessly. He didn't even seem to notice the barrier as he simply walked through it staring my wife down.
"Wait where were we?" He mumbled reading through the endless mass of papers in his hands.
My eyes burned as they readjusted to the battlefield, and carnage around me. My terrifying enemy fastest woman alive turned villain Streak stood in front of me. Shiver sitting out of reach a mile away from us. My thoughts came through stumbling over each other, pouring out like a stream unblocked from it's flow.
What happened to all of our kids?
"You only had little John remember? The rest of the kids didn't make sense we got rid of them"
We? W-what happened to Shiver why is he over there?
"He betrays her at the end of this fight **READ.THE.SCRIPT** JACOB"
I pulled the pile of papers from my side, hands shaking. Reading in an unfocused haze about how badly my hands were shaking before reading my lines. The ones marked next to THE BARRIER, my hero name.
"I'll stop you Streak...you were a hero once and can be...again". The papers fell to the floor like rain in the sun lit desert disintegrating into nothingness. My confusion making the words stick, and barely ooze out of my mouth like glue escaping a bottle.
"Will our mighty hero actually be able to stop his long time friend? Will he perish underneath her speed of terror? FIND OUT NEXT TIME!" came The Narrators voice from everywhere and no where all at once.
"We're going to do this as many times as it takes for you to get this right Jacob" The narrator whispered in my ear. "Remember: IT HAS TO BE **FUN"**. The snap in my ear was so loud my eyes blinked several times before refocusing again. I didn't even register the warmth of my allies next to me, the drums of my heart covering everything as I stared at those floppy ears again.
"We can make this work I know it" The Narrator muttered. | 2022-10-13T20:07:05 | 2022-10-13T18:57:19 | 98 | 72 |
[WP] Write a scene that would appear sexual to an observer, but is completely innocent. [nsfw]
Like the tent shadow scene from Austin Powers, it should be humorous and can involve objects and sounds. | "What a night," he said, holding her close to his chest, her head lifting with his every breath.
They laid beneath the still-wet blankets as the sun peeked through the shudders, bathing the room in a soothing orange glow. The past hour seemed, to him, a whirl of sensation: the writhing, gasping bodies pressed against each other, the warmth and intimacy of the moment they had shared as he plunged deeper and deeper into her.
And now, in this moment of rest, he gazed upon her. How fair she was, so soft and delicate. For so long, he had craved her; the curve of her thigh and the warmth of her breath haunted his dreams. And he finally had her.
"I've never done anything like that," he whispered. He turned to look at the sunrise through the blinds, sighing. He was content. Happy, even.
He felt a warmth on his chest. *Is that what joy feels like?* he though. He looked down. *No, not joy.* He wiped the blood off his chest that had poured from the corner of her mouth.
*But I guess it's close enough.*
He made a note not to stab the neck next time. It made the whole affair terribly messy. | A goat's ass is never as loose as you would hope it would be. I mean this is my first time directly dealing with one, but I'd assume I now posses a much greater knowledge on the subject than the average man. Or not, I don't know what people do in their own time.
But curses and curses again, the goat corpse I had acquired had lost all sphincter tightness, and the gold nuggets I hoped to sneak past the Spanish watchmen kept falling out. This entire damn smuggling operation had been one bungling mess after another. I suppose it started when when my partner had an episode of sleep walking and had toppled into the sea the first night on board. He was an adept swimmer but apparently sleep swimming was a different matter. Mayhap I should have taken it as a sign, but the Spanish-run expedition was unlikely to turn the great sailing vessels around and drop me off be cause my plan to rob them right under their noses had just gotten twice as difficult. I was in for the long hull. At least I got two months to fret about it as we crossed the sea to Mexico.
More of my pilfered nuggets fell from the goat's open mouth as I tried to re-insert the ones escaped from the back end. It was disgusting, but hells, that's the point. What guard would stop and check the ass of a dead goat? I had spent too long sneaking these beauties from the mine to lose them now because of some uncooperative piece of mutton. I drove the nuggets home, this time stoppering the beast with a bit of leather. I flipped him upright again, holding the slack jawed head between my knees as I gathered the nuggets freed from his maw. The moment I scooped the last one into my gloves the door to my temporary workshop, the tool shed actually, swung open and my eyes met with those of a surprised guard. Hand wrapped around stolen gold, open mouthed goat between my knees, my face red and sweaty from my efforts; I stared at him motionless.
His eyes slid to the goat and back my eyes. "Bean hecow" or "Bien hecho" or "Been heyco", one of those, he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me. He shut the door.
I really need to learn to speak Spanish, what the hell just happened?
I finish re-stuffing my goat and heft him over my shoulder. If I run I should still be able to catch the supply ship before it pushes off for the voyage back to Europe. No rest for the wicked.
| 2013-10-14T00:51:09 | 2013-10-13T22:28:30 | 73 | 36 |
[WP] A mother tries to reason with Death, who has come to claim her terminally ill child | Death stomped into the room, his cape billowing out behind him.
"Okay. Where's the kid?"
Janet sat there smugly. "I hid him."
Death sighed and rubbed his head. "You can't do that."
"Well, I did. What are you going to do about it?"
"I can, I don't know, kill you." Death snapped.
Janet shook her head slowly. "No you can't. We all know that is cheating. Besides, why would you want to take him? You don't need a child."
The greatest villain of mankind stood there thoughtfully. He has claimed the rich, the powerful, the mighty. He has ignored tears and pleas of the most pitiful. He has smiled at the disintegration of a million souls. And somehow this tiny woman with her triumphant glare really grated his bones.
Death took a deep sigh and clinked his jaw bone in aggravation. "Look, Janet. Let's try to be civil about this. The courts said I have Timmy on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Today is Tuesday, yes?"
Janet mumbled incoherently.
"It's Tuesday, is it not?" Death's voice tinged a bit deeper and commanding.
"Gah. Don't use that voice on me. Fine. Seriously, I don't know why I even bothered with that lawyer. TIMMY!"
A few moments later, a giggling Timmy emerged from the kitchen. "Daddy! Daddy! You couldn't find me!"
"Nope. Not even a little bit. How could I find a half-dead twerp like you?" Death picked up the small child warmly. "Come on, kiddo. God of War is coming to dinner tonight."
"Waaaar!" Timmy bellowed with delight.
"Jesus, I hate that war fellow. He's so... uncouth." Janet sneered.
"Really, Janet? Keep it civil." Death tilted his skull towards the young boy pointedly. "Anyways, say bye bye, Timmy. We get to spend the next three days together. Just us dudes."
Timmy squealed in excitement.
"Bye, Mama!" | Four months. They had been given four exquisite, joyful, fulfilling months, before it all started -- the rash, the fever, the gurgling coughs. Four months, and then, with little warning, they were here.
At the end of it.
Anna had always been a practical woman and she would have been lying if she had told herself she still held out hope for her sweet Lucy's recovery. The myriad of doctors at their disposal had been gentle but clear; and her husband had never been the type to take such honesty well. Now she had two frail beings to take care of -- neither of which, it seemed, she could save. Sitting in the corner of the nursery, Anna sat unmoved to the silence of the room, punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the monitor.
She had felt alone for days.
And then, all at once: she wasn't.
It didn't look like Anna had expected -- swooping hood, masked features. Gone were the presence of rustling robes and a looming scythe, the trademark of the departed. Looking upon it now, having been deprived of sleep for the past few harrowing weeks and feeling the bleary haze of insomnia, Anna almost cracked a smile. *Scythe.* It almost seemed comical now, to have expected Death would employ such an outdated prop to do it's bidding.
**It** -- *she*, rather, now that Anna had gotten a better look -- was dressed simply; black dress, which was fitting, something Anna could have sworn she tried on once at local department store; chestnut hair in a modest pony-tail, looped over her shoulder. Her face was almost sweet -- a tender curve upon her pale, round face, hands clasped demurely at her waist. It was strange to note all these mundane details, something Anna had never excelled at recognizing.
It was easier, perhaps, than seeing the moment for what it was.
As the woman stepped closer to the crib, she seemed to move through the wires and IV tubes that cascaded forth from the small bed like the tentacles of the baby's favorite stuffed toy; and Anna rose in tandem from her seat across the room, her eyes on Death's face as they both reached the railing of Lucy's bed. For what seemed like an eternity, they both stood there, silently; Death looking down at Lucy -- Anna looking back at Death.
When Death finally spoke, her voice was soft; so different from what Anna expected.
"She's very beautiful, isn't she?"
Death glanced up at Anna with a smile, her brow knit together; a strange gleam of joy in her expression. Anna's breath caught in her throat. " -- Please. You don't have to --" she began, the words more strangled then she expected, but Death held up one thin finger to her mouth, signalling for her silence. She gave a soft shake of her head.
She began to reach down into the crib, and Anna made as if to stop her; but something kept her retrained, her hands pinned to the railings, and she watched with an acute horror as Death gingerly lifted the swaddled Lucy from the crib. She cooed softly to the infant, tucking the small sleeping body in her arms.
Death looked down at Lucy, and then back up at her mother.
Anna's lips went numb. "Will she be --" she began, her voice cracking.
Death smiled. "Of course, Anna. They always are."
-----
*edited for spacing. First time posting something so big! | 2013-11-19T20:43:27 | 2013-11-19T18:02:15 | 20 | 12 |
[WP] You die in a tragic accident. While sitting on a bench in purgatory, Mr/Mrs.Death approaches you and says, "Pick a game, any game, and if you are the victor, I'll send you back to the day before the accident." | You've gotta be fucking kidding me. Really? Helium? All I wanted was to sound hilarious for a minute, I didn't think you could actually die from it. Here I am on this bench with a number in my hand waiting to speak to Death and I couldn't be more pissed off. I have to get a do over on this. This is ridiculous. What will my mother tell people? Even the kid sitting next to me with the legos in his throat is looking at me like I'm a retard. And I have to agree. Where's Darwin in the afterlife, I'd like to shake his hand to congratulate him on being right.
Then my number is called. I get up and head into the office, reciting my case for why I should be allowed to respawn in my head. I shut the door behind me, turn around, and see a handsome man in a white tuxedo smiling at me like a mob boss, evil and amused. Great.
I sit down in the cushy red chair across from him. I get ready to start making my case when he says something first, "Pick a game, and if you are the victor, I'll send you back to the day before the accident."
I stare in shock. Seriously? It's that easy? I feel really moronic when I ask, "Why?" He just laughs and continues to stare at me. My brain starts to race. What game am I good at? I suck at chess, don't even talk to me about fucking Monopoly... Then it hits me.
"ANY game?" I ask.
"Any game." He says.
"Then I choose Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time for the N64."
He sits up in his seat, aggravated. "What?"
"You said pick any game, and if I win, I get a do over, right? So I choose Ocarina of Time."
He scowls heavily. "That's not what I meant."
"Ah, but that's what you said. Semantics, guy. If I beat the game, I win, right?"
He's furious. "I know for a fact you've beaten that game over 100 times."
"Well then I guess you don't have to watch me do it again do you?"
He laughs. "You know, if were less generous, I'd send you downstairs right now, but fortunately for you, I like how clever you are and I've met my quota for the week, so-"
FLASH. I wake up in my bed. I look at my phone. February 17th. Oh thank Christ. Alright, no more helium ever again. Got it. I get out of bed, triumphant. Thank you, Link. I move to my dresser when suddenly, I trip over one of my shoes and plant head first into my metal desk. BOOM. I open my eyes. I'm sitting on the bench again next to the kid with the throat legos. FUCK. | _"Yeah, so sometimes I give second-chances. Do-over, you know? So how about we play a game and you win, I'll take you back to yesterday."_
I was bored and didn't really believe him. A big puffy zit protruded from the stubble on his chin. He was wearing a gray heather t-shirt and charcoal jeans, his hair slicked back out of his face, and mirrored sunglasses rested lightly on his nose. He seemed a little familiar. I wondered if he'd been on the bus.
He seemed close to my age, but somehow I felt infinitely older and so much more tired.
I suggested Rock-Paper-Scissors; it seemed the fastest way to get rid of him. He laughed. I remember the laughing.
It was the kind of sound that made a person's skin crawl, but I was out of my skin. My skin was getting cold, dozens of feet under the ice with the rest of those people on that bus.
He pushed up those fancy shades, and there were two cold, gray little flames where his eyeballs should have been. And suddenly, I believed.
-----
"Honey, I had the strangest dream, that the bus crashed over a bridge and I was in Limbo. There was something about Death wanting to play Rock Paper Scissors. Yeah, I know, the brain does crazy things. I know, it's just anxiety about the big trip ahead."
I chattered away with my phone in the crook of my neck as I moved around the apartment. Still had some packing to finish. "Anyway, I want to get some stuff done today. I'll see you tomorrow night, you'll be there to pick me up, right? Great. Love ya."
I spent the rest of the day wrapping things up, and couldn't shake some odd sense of anxiety, of urgency. I took care of business I'd put off for months, I called friends I hadn't seen in years.
That night, I slept like a rock, and woke with my alarm, a few hours earlier than usual.
I hauled my duffel to the bus stop and waited. I couldn't shake the spine-crawling feeling of déjà vu. Usually, I tell someone about a dream, it fades away, and I forget almost everything by the next day. But today, it seemed every little thing reminded me of it.
The bus pulled up to the stop, an all-too familiar squeal of overstressed brakes. The brakes that would kill me, and everyone else, when the driver--I remembered the mole on his cheek, the minty huff of his breath--lost control on the bridge.
The doors stood open, and I backed up. "You comin, Sugar?" I shook my head. The bus left without me.
I went to a diner and ordered a coffee. I slid into a booth and scooted closer to the wall, my duffel taking up the padded pleather bench next to me. I wrapped my hands around the mug for its warmth, I was shaking too much to risk a sip.
Some punk kid, hair slicked back, wearing sunglasses, slid into the side opposite me. He said nothing, just grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I felt the corners of my mouth move. He didn't laugh, and he didn't move those sunglasses. I was grateful for both, but at the same time, wondered if it was really him.
My half-smile turned to a grimace. I should have tried to save the others, but the thought didn't cross my mind until just now. I have no clue how I could have gotten everyone off the bus without seeming like a lunatic, but I should have tried.
I stared at my coffee, feeling numb. From the corner of my vision, I saw him get up. He leaned over and rested a hand on my shoulder. The fingers squeezed, gently. Encouragement.
He said nothing, and left.
| 2014-02-18T10:38:49 | 2014-02-18T09:49:36 | 20 | 10 |
[WP] SETI finally intercepts a signal from an alien world. After translating the language, we discover that this alien race does not yet have space travel capabilities, but what they do have to say chills mankind to the bone. | "well, what does it say?"
Wel, sir, if you look at the portfolio, most of it was basic math. very very low level repetition things, stuff that make sure that you know it's a message as opposed to background noise. Then we have a lot more math thats too advanced for us currently, and the actual text message that was meant for us."
well, what the hell is it?
"people of earth. please stop. you are destroying us. We cannot survive the onslaught of your radio wave weapons for much longer." | There were two lines of text on the wall. Two lines. Not even a full page. And yet, the researchers had been staring at them for the best part of the night. The harsh fluorescents that lit the small conference room in the back of the SETI research station threw stark shadows across the faces the three men Who had been present when the translation program had finished its decryption of the alien text. Mere hours before, they had been bursting with excitement as their satellite dish pinged in response to nit one, but two incoming transmission bursts. After all, being the first to both receive and translate an alien tongue into intelligible speech was sure to be worth a Nobel, at the very least. Now, they sat in suffocating silence, staring at the two lines of text that spelled the doom of mankind. The first part took most of the simplistic white page tacked to the wall in front of the men. "Flee the dark, flee the devourers, flee the flee the flee can't run can't escape hide can't hide can't fight can't can't can't they are going out the light light light is gone life is gone life is ended world is ended all GONE." That alone had been enough to set the three researchers on edge. They had just finished double checked the origination coordinAtes of the first burst, confirming the validity of the text beyond a doubt, when the second burst had finished decrypting. The first had been disturbing in its madness, the obvious terror in its tone enough to turn the men's stomachs as they finished reading. But the second... The second had sent them beyond terror with its simplicity. "There is no hope left. The stars are going out. We are dead. All is dead. And the dark reigns." | 2014-07-08T22:41:47 | 2014-07-08T19:39:43 | 31 | 14 |
[WP] For the first time ever, a person is born with a genuine superpower. They proceed to live out their entire life without noticing or realizing it. | "Let me get this straight" St. Peter said, thumbing through the Book, "You had a superpower. An honest to God superpower. The kind of ability that would have brought peace to the world and you..."
"Never knew" said Jimmy.
"Never. Knew." repeated Peter.
"Well, it's not like I really had the chance to use it. I mean, I led a pretty ordinary life and all" Jimmy explained.
"So, when the Big Guy sent those tornados, you just..." turning the page "hid in a root cellar. When the robbers killed those old people, you" looking down at the Book "ran. Even the little tests, like that cat in the tree, you dialed 911."
Jimmy gave an awkward smile and looked at his feet.
"Sometimes I fucking hate free will" Peter said as he opened the gate. | In a black lacquer box, preserved neatly and cleanly, there is an ancient scroll. On it, an ancient prophecy foretells the arrival of a man of great supernatural power. He would be born with the ability to speak to all the mystical animals of Japan. His arrival would bring a return of Japan to a more natural, harmonious state.
He would speak to the kitsune, the shape-shifting foxes, and bring on the rains. His tanuki would overrun the fields. He would revive the tengu and the kappa. His arrival would restore the Chrysanthemum Throne, and emanate its power until the Rising Sun could never set upon this Empire.
The Shinto priests knew of the prophecy, but they were puzzled at the name that this boy would have. なくゎめ. That...couldn't be right...
---
Meanwhile, eight thousand miles away...
---
Nakwame was born in rebel-held Congo. Upon his eighth birthday, the Juju Boys, led by General "Teddy Bear" Lubassa, came to his village and slaughtered his family, friends and neighbors. Nakwame himself became a child soldier.
At age nine, hopped up on brown-brown, nicotine and alcohol ("Nakwame got da Juju now, boys! Ahh Ahh Ahh!", the General would say, with his weird, inverted laugh) he gunned down his first family of victims.
At age twelve, he became the youngest leader of a troop of child soldiers. He was in charge of training them (mostly helping them take their first dose of brown-brown, and helping them move up to the more potent "juju").
At age fourteen, a star of the Juju Boys and Teddy Bear's favorite child soldier field general, he led an attack on a village. The village held some people who fled the village Nakwame was from. Hopped up on brown-brown and feeling the alcohol start to kick in, his recognition of their horrified faces quickly melted away into a juju-stupor.
At age fifteen, in a moment of painfully sober clarity, he shot Teddy Bear Lubassa, and himself. | 2014-08-08T08:28:08 | 2014-08-08T08:12:35 | 40 | 29 |
[WP] A suicidal time-traveller decides to put the Grandfather Paradox to the test - with unexpected results. | My name is James Cooper and I'm going to commit suicide by Grandfather Paradox.
Long story short, I'm a physicist on a distinguished team of scientists who have finally cracked the time barrier and made humanity's first time machine. At the moment we can only go into the past, which works fine for me.
Once we got it working I put my plan in action, figuring out when I could access the machine and get my suicide under way. I'd been planning this for months and I was determined to see this through. Finally it's time for it to happen.
The machine is huge, comparable to the first computer, but of course it's a lot more chock full of tech. I get inside the capsule and begin the launch. In the blink of an eye I'm back to the year my grandfather would turn eighteen.
I'd done my research well and I knew exactly how I'd get to where I needed to be. Lucky he'd never moved far from his hometown.
Soon I'm at his doorstep, knocking hard on the door. I want to get this over and done with. To my surprise the door swings open and I walk inside cautiously, calling hello.
I hear a scraping noise on the second floor, so I head up the stairs. To my right a door is open and I see my grandfather, a stool in his hand and a noose strung from an exposed beam in the ceiling.
I freeze. This is impossible, there's no way my grandfather killed himself at eighteen. He didn't marry my grandmother until he was twenty-three. I watch in horror as he climbs the stool. My plans flee from my mind as I jump forward and pull him down.
He yells in surprise and flails as he hits the ground. I watch as he gets to his feet and turns to face me.
He looks me up and down, "What did you do that for?"
"My name is James Cooper. And I'm here to save your life." | David took a deep breath and trying to push down his doubts, entered the diner. It was exactly as he'd heard about it at every damn family get together, he knew the lay out, how to order and exactly how the next hour would play out.
At the bar an attractive blonde and a rather more scrubby brunette were chatting and after a moment they both went into the kitchen and, on cue, the door behind him opened.
Coming in was a young man, his face familiar both from the many pictures in his grandparents house and also from the mirror as he shared his grandfathers deep eyes and crinkly smile. David knew it was now or never. He walked up the the man before he could properly enter and stopped him.
"Sorry, I'm afraid we're just closing up today, come back tomorrow." The man looked like he was going to say something but turned and walked away.
David walked up to the bar and sat at the seat second from the end. A moment later the blonde came out of the kitchen and smiled at him, "Can I getcha something hon?" her voice was warm and soft.
The words were fixed into his head through many retellings of the story "I'd love a slice of pie and maybe a kiss if I can be so bold?" The blonde giggled and fetching him a slice of pie, leaned in to kiss his cheek. As she did he quickly turned and so it landed on his lips. "Guess I should take you out tonight now!" he delivered it perfectly and she blushed just as he hoped she would.
"Well, I guess you had better." She replied "I'm Daisy." She held out her hand and he grasped it firmly and planted another kiss "I'm David."
It had worked perfectly. He'd worried that even changing the name from Dan to David would change something but he had replaced his grandfather and every line had been a winner.
She'd loved the movie, they'd gone for a car ride and slightly to his surprise she'd readily agreed to go back to his place. Lying now in his arms she didn't seem like the old lady he'd known but a beautiful blonde vixen who had just blown his mind and his dick. He'd come back looking to end it all by stopping his grandparents meeting but now... well, now she wasn't his grandmother any more so maybe this wasn't even so weird.
Somehow things just didn't seem so bad any more, in the 1950s he had a beautiful woman, knew the next 70 years of history and so could be rich and comfortable and life wasn't so bad.
His grandmother cuddled into him, pressing her prefect breasts against his side. She reached across and took out a pack of Winston cigarettes, drew two out, lit them and popped one between his lips. He smiled, his grandfather had always smoked Winstons, he guessed he knew why now.
From down below on the street music began to drift up from a bar and David began to drift into sleep. "Baby," she whispered "David?" Her hand strayed down towards his crotch and he stiffened in excitement.
"Call me Dan" He smiled and rolled over on top of her. | 2014-08-18T07:18:28 | 2014-08-18T07:16:22 | 251 | 29 |
[WP] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16. Everyone's powers are always different, some more insignificant than others. You turn 16, and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability's. That is, until you discover the severity of your own. | I was at my Uncle's house the day before I turned sixteen. His house was a potpourri of spices and curry. They smelled amazing one by one, but together, they hit you like a spice train, each carriage hitting you with a new blast of pepper. I watched him flip pancakes for breakfast from thin air. I sighed and ate the pancakes, as they appeared one after the other. They tasted like pancakes all right, nothing special. Usually Uncle would constantly hammer on about the success of his restaurant, but after twenty years, the novelty of his powers soon ran out and his business was running downhill. That was often the case with the members of my family. Our powers were novel, but just because you were special it didn’t make you useful. Although we were proud that we were different than the rest, I often wished that I could grow up with normal powers like flying and super strength. I mean, people from around the world would all gather around their television to watch the flying people compete in blitzball. In my family, we gather around my older sister. She picks up television broadcast or radio signals, processes them and displays them on her belly. She is happy that people always want her around, but I don’t think that’s for the right reasons.
My dad was consoling me through Skype. He told me I should be happy with whatever power I got. I should be happy of my lineage and my power, because that’s who I am. I told my dad that I wished he were here to support me. He told me he would, if he didn’t find himself trapped in the Internet after he turned sixteen. I asked him how he made me then. He told me that I wasn’t ready for that yet, and to just remember that my mother can travel through fax machines. My mother was upstairs reading. She reads a lot these days, not being able to work as a travelling saleswoman now that fax machines are a thing of the past. I couldn’t help but cry. I wanted to shoot lasers from my eyes and phase through walls. My friends were already reading each other’s minds and turning things to ice. I found my bed. The police didn’t even bother to put me in quarantine. I closed my eyes.
I woke with an energy pulsing through me. I tried not to get excited so the disappointment wouldn’t hit me as hard, but it just felt so good. I don’t know what took over me, but I jumped and crashed through the bedroom window. Suddenly I was flying, and the broken shards of the window bounced off my impenetrable skin. I shrilled in delight and waved to my friend dashing below me. He gave me a thumbs up, but I could here him say in his mind that he didn’t really care. I was surprised; I had invisibility, flying and mind reading. I wanted to see what more I could do. I picked up the car parked below me. It was easy, like a feather. I felt as if all the generations of my ancestor’s mediocrity had built up to unleash a combination of great powers within me. Within a few hours time, I was folding the ground from beneath me, I was balancing the earth and the sun on opposite hands, and I was ripping holes in time and space, sending galaxies into oblivion. My power was overwhelming, and I felt awesome.
Uncle Brandon looked down on Peter who was laughing hysterically in bed. John was on the Skype call, and Mary put down her book. Together they watched Peter have the dream of his life, for his life.
| Sean was walking home from the gardening store, he loved getting new utensils. His birthday was spent as it usually was, Dad carrying in his broken down car from his 24 hour shift as a security guard before falling asleep without saying happy birthday and Sean playing hide and seek in their garden with his Mommy. Her power was invisibility but Sean got the hang of noticing flattened grass and bent flowers. When he first found out his power his Mom told him all the good he can do in the world, that never before has a power like this been. Sean didn't believe that. The other kids at school picked on him, called him names and made him regret he ever told anyone his power.
Taking the left turn from the main street into an alleyway as he always did on a Tuesday after the garden store Sean strolled right into the immovable palm of Billy Smith. "Hey bee boy, whats in the bag? Toys for your little garden? Let me see them." said Billy with a devious smile on his face. "Just leave me alone Billy, I am walking home, my parents are expecting me" pleaded Sean only now noticing the other boys behind Billy. "You know Spark and Razor don't you?" questioned Billy as the boys behind him gave Sean a glimpse of their powers. Spark created a stream of electricity from both his hands while Razor morphed his into to immaculate blades. "Yeah they are in my Maths class." said Sean as calmly as he could whilst remembering all the shocks he got, all the tiny slits he received and the name, the names were the worst.
"Do you know my name bee boy?" asked Billy. "Its...its Bill." is all Sean could get out. "WRONG!" Billy yelled as he picked Sean up by the scruff of the neck with one hand. "They call me Herc, short for Hercules. They say I am going to be the strongest of all the supers. I could pound your Daddy into the pavement, when the drunk isn't passed out there already" chuckled Billy as Sean began to tear up. "Stop crying, we are just messing with you. And speaking of messing let us play with those toys" exclaimed Billy as he grabbed Seans bag with his free hand and then threw Sean to the ground.
The new shovel Sean saved up for was crushed into a toothpick by Billy's tectonic plate grip. The seeds for the rose plants Sean was going to grow for his Mom, turned to dust by Spark. The pots Sean bought were thrown into the air and sliced into tiny pieces by razor. Sean could not contain his sadness and rage any longer. "STOP!! I AM WARNING YOU!" bellowed Sean as he pointed straight at Billy. Fabricated into reality around his hand were several small bumblebees flying towards Billy. The three boys glanced at each other, back to Sean and then burst into unrelenting laughter.
"The bee queen has spoken!!! Ohh no, he is going to sting us!!!! The only thing he will ever fertilize is a flower!!!" repeated the three boys in unison. Sean felt like he shouldn't have said anything and went fetal. Billy picked him up to his feet. "Well!!! You were saying something bee boy?" grunted Billy as he slowly pushed Sean back with a single pointed finger one nudge at a time. "Well?" push. "It sounded like you threatened us" push. "Didn't he threaten us boys?" push. "You gonna throw some more bees at us your majesty?" one final push that knocked Sean stumbling backwards. He regained his composure and clenched both fists.
The anger was growing in his face, the anger was the only thing holding back the tears in Sean's face. The words of the bullies echoing through his very being. The bullies just stood there laughing. Sean didn't think this was funny at all. "Leave me alone" Sean mumbled. "Did he just buzz?" roared Razor with laughter and the others promptly joined in. "LEAVE!!! ME!!! ALONE!!!!" Sean roared as he threw both fists forward opening both hands.
It all happened so fast. Sean only grasped what had happened when he saw Billy throwing haymaker punches knocking chunks out of the walls of the alleyway. Sean had summoned a swarm of Africanised bees. Spark and Razor took off sprinting at the sight of the swarm. Billy was not so fortunate. All the strength he had was not enough to fight this foe. His skin started to blister and bloat, his eyes swelled and his footing was lost. The bees began to disperse once his body stopped moving. Sean saw the reality of what just happened. He sat down in the alleyway next to Billy's body. Unbearable sadness overcame Sean. "All you had to do was leave me alone......I begged you" whispered Sean as he sobbed alone with Billy dead next to him. | 2015-01-21T22:23:15 | 2015-01-21T22:19:41 | 40 | 22 |
[WP] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16. Everyone's powers are always different, some more insignificant than others. You turn 16, and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability's. That is, until you discover the severity of your own. | It's been like this longer than anyone can remember. When you turn the age of power, or 16 years into your life, you gain your individual power. Everyone is different, some get rudimentary boring powers that aid office work and some get drafted to become soldiers due to their powers.. more destructive capabilities.
The neighbour boy Jon, he was taken away just last month by the military because he could EMP a human brain. He did it to me once, I couldnt use any of my senses for a week. Although to you it may seem strange, as you are not from my existance, this isn't a strange occurence. Lives become fragile once a child reaches the age of power and their power becomes known. Jon joined the Static battalion, they specialize in special-ops warfare, he had been 16 for less than 2-months.
Everyone wants to go to the military, become a specialized soldier and when war comes, you want them to remember the coat of arms you wear to signify your power. You want to be the elite, the squad only known as Winged-bearers. Those who can bring absolute destruction, only called in when the enemy is starting to become dangerous. They are the reapers that signify the end, yet the angels who signify hope. Both good and evil. It was my dream to join them, but now.. Now I know I am not meant to be discovered.
It started with Jon actually. That day he used that EMP on me it stuck with me. I could physically see the formation of the universe change as he bent physics to cause havoc on my sensories. In that brief second that formation became imbedded in my mind and mathematics and designs I should never have been able to solve, seemed so simple. I was able to keep the core concept of his ability, yet I refined it, defined it and changed the aspects of it. I was able to designate the sense I wanted to assault. I could control it in ways it shouldn't be used because it changed the basics of the powers nature. But I did it.
And not just Jon's. Any power I became in-contact with physically, became manifested within my mind and I have been able to modify the core concepts of each one to better enhance the power's magnitude or nature.
To put it simply, I am a book of spells, where everyone on our world has a single power, I now have over 30 and that number is growing daily. Original concepts that I have now altered to best suit me, these powers have made me all but human. Super speed I changed to conceptual phase-walking, rubber limbs changed to impenetrable armour. It is all so simple, the values are my power, the power of comprehending knowledge and concepts that are incomprehensible, that is my power. This is why I am here, talking to some stranger under a bridge. Running from the military, passing through different dimensions. I can't stay in one spot for too long, but even I know that it is futile. One day the military will find me and they will make me join the Wing-bearers, and I fear for the day I come in-contact with their powers. | Dear Journal:
I turn sixteen in 2 minutes and 27 seconds. I know because I've been awake all night counting the seconds to midnight. Tonight is special and you know why? At midnight I finally Change! I've waited forever but now I finally get a power like everyone else. What do you think it will be, Journal? Will I get x-ray vision like Jason next door? Maybe I'll have super strength like Melissa or even wings like Ethan! As long as it's not Eric's acid breath I think I'll be happy. That poor guy had bad enough breath already, that was the last thing he needed. But anyway it's midnight, it's finally here! I'll keep writing as it happens, I never want to forget this!
-It's 12:02 and I don't feel very different yet, but it has gotten colder in here. I'm wrapped up under my blanket now but so far nothing else. It's so hard to wait, Journal.
-12:10 now, I'm still just cold. Dull pain in my mouth. Might be a toothache, but I'm hoping for poison glands! I'm going to check the mirror.
-Journal, I'm confused now. I can't see myself in the mirror. At first I got really excited thinking I was invisible, but when I look down I still see myself. On top of that my teeth hurt a lot now. This is definitely part of my Change but I'm a bit worried my power is going to suck. I'll be back after I walk around a bit, maybe that will help.
-It's 12:30 and this literally bites. I stubbed my toe on my dresser and bit my to tongue HARD. Normally that's a bad thing but this time it was awful because my teeth are razor sharp. I'm not kidding, they're like a wild animal's. I was worried I bit my tongue in half! Here's the weird part though; instead of blood I spat out dust. Isn't that just stupid, Journal? I mean what am I even Changing into? I can't see myself, my teeth are needles, I bleed dust and-
oh my god, Journal. I think I'm a vampire.
-1:45. My life is over! I'll never see Melissa or Jason or even Eric again! Well I'm sure Jason will see me but that's beside the point. I can't ever see sunlight again, so I can't ever get a tan. Garlic on my hashbrowns? Not anymore! And you know what else I just thought about? I'll have to ask permission every single time I want to hang out in somebody's house. But even then a sleepover is out of the question now too. I even dared to think for a second that I might be able to turn into a bat. Well I can tell you that's not true, Journal, because nothing happened when I jumped off the stairs to test it. I'm fine because I'm guessing I got some sort of vampire strength but still! What's the point if I'm stuck inside all day? I'm not even going to think about the whole sucking blood situation, although I'm sure I could borrow some from the blood bank if I absolutely had to. No, no, no, gross. I'll have to figure something out.
-It's 3:00 and I guess I'm just going to have to live with it. I'm done Changing so that's that. Me. A vampire. Forever. I'm telling everyone I'm sick tomorrow like the rest of the kids who got crap powers. Now I know how Eric felt on his first night. On the bright side at least I didn't melt half of my bed away! Heck, maybe I should just embrace it and move to Romania. That's where the real vampires go, right Journal? They've probably got night classes and everything. Hey, that's not a bad idea. I might even meet some vampire girls over there! Well Journal I think this might be okay! Maybe the next time I write will be from a dark, musty castle overlooking a tiny village. I can't help but laugh! How funny would that be? I'll have to stop writing now, I have a lot to do to make this house vampire-friendly and I should probably find a coffin to sleep in by morning. Ha, that was a joke. Anyway I'm done now. Goodnight/good morning, Journal. ~Your new vampire writer, Victor Orlok | 2015-01-21T22:56:40 | 2015-01-21T22:26:31 | 32 | 10 |
[WP] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16. Everyone's powers are always different, some more insignificant than others. You turn 16, and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability's. That is, until you discover the severity of your own. | ...the ability to craft a lovely cup of tea from any matter available was surely too powerful for any mere mortal to handle.
With great duty and knowing such power could have unparalleled consequence were I unable to contain it I decided for the sake of mankind to keep it to myself, to say I was spared the mutation.
They couldn't know. Nobody could know...
| My alarm went off. I lazily swiped it shut and was about to go back to sleep when I remembered what day it was! I stood up, waiting for that rush of power everyone claims they feel if they're up at midnight. But, I felt a deep, dark coldness spread through me instead. It was not painful, but not pleasant either. Then it went away. The room was pitch black. No surprises seeing as the moon wasn't out. I went back to sleep, setting my alarm for 8am.
The alarm went off again, but it was still so dark. And cold. I scrambled for the door, and walked into the hallway where the light seared my eyes. I adjusted after awhile. As I ate breakfast with the usual good mornings, I felt that coldness again. I ignored it and headed for school.
It just so happened the school bully was waiting for me. He managed to get the ability to bend others to his will. The very sight of him angered me. I hated him to his core. I stared right at him, and a darkness began to envelop. He started screaming, louder than the others who could see. I didn't understand it. But I willed it on, and it became darker, and darker, until it was pitch black. I blinked, and it was gone. But so too was the bully.
I realised, that I now had the ability to control light. Or rather, form an absence of light.
Oh what fun shall I have now.
-Feedback appreciated. Written while on the loo. | 2015-01-22T02:28:54 | 2015-01-22T02:21:02 | 22 | 12 |
[WP] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16. Everyone's powers are always different, some more insignificant than others. You turn 16, and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability's. That is, until you discover the severity of your own. | ...the ability to craft a lovely cup of tea from any matter available was surely too powerful for any mere mortal to handle.
With great duty and knowing such power could have unparalleled consequence were I unable to contain it I decided for the sake of mankind to keep it to myself, to say I was spared the mutation.
They couldn't know. Nobody could know...
| Tonight was my night; my 16th birthday. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, it was my time to shine. I had waited almost a year for this day, ever since my best friend Andrew discovered in January that he could fly. I had envied him at first, being the first in the tenth grade with a power. As time passed I was jealous of what it said about him. If powers are a reflection of our character as scientists believed, I came to envy what this said about his life. He was free, he was pure and he was without a care in the world. What did he know about pain? of being beaten by your father every day for imagined sins and infractions? Of having to steal your best friends allowance to wear decent clothes? of being labelled by girls as a 'creep' and of your few friends pitying you?
But times had changed. New Years eve, my birthday, had arrived and I smiled at my reflection. I wondered what my power would be. Super strength for my strength through the hardships? Mind reading for my ability to empathize? I was entertaining these thoughts when my phone rang.
*Hello?*
*Hey it's Andrew here, you ready for the party?*
*Sure, pick me up in ten.*
*Hello?*
I heard static and a click as my phone died. I moved it away from my ear, and then smiled.
Tiny cracks ran along the screen and continued to spread from where my hand held the phone. I willed the cracking to stop, and it did. | 2015-01-22T02:28:54 | 2015-01-21T21:42:59 | 22 | 10 |
[WP] Instead of a modern adaptation of a myth, write a mythic adaptation of a modern story. | As a young man in Delphi, Gouliélmos generally rushed through lessons with his tutors in order to run outside and wrestle and throw javelins and race chariots. As a result, his standing in the academy was low, but at sport he had few equals, and this gave him great confidence and arrogance.
One day, Dionysus and Hermes, bored, descended Mount Olympus disguised as mortals and found Gouliélmos wrestling with his friends. As they arrived, Gouliélmos had just defeated one of them, and declared boastfully, "I am the greatest wrestler in western Delphi! No two of you at once could defeat me." Dionysus and Hermes stepped forward and engaged Gouliélmos, defeating him handily, and while Hermes sought only to win, Dionysus tore into his flesh.
When Gouliélmos returned home that night, his mother nearly fainted at his wounds. "You've been wrestling outside the academy again!" she cried. "And now you stagger in here half-dead, covered in blood! Delphi is no place for you. I am sending you to Byblos, where you will live with my sister Maria and her husband Philippos. There is no wrestling in Byblos."
Despondent, Gouliélmos booked passage on a carriage. When it arrived, his mood was briefly lifted by its unusual decorations, with dangling baubles and fresh paint. Though he did not know it, Hermes, who was feeling guilty for Gouliélmos' injuries, was driving the carriage. Gouliélmos, unaware of this and remembering his exile from Dephi, forgot his relief and told Hermes, "To Byblos."
Arriving in Byblos, Gouliélmos felt his spirits lift once more. Delphi was and always would be his home, but Byblos was beautiful, clean, and wealthy beyond anything he knew existed. Around 7 or 8 in the evening, his carriage pulled up in front of a grand palace of white marble. "If I must live here in exile from Delphi," thought Gouliélmos, "I shall make the most of it. My every chair shall be a throne, and I shall live as a prince."
And so went the story of the Fresh Prince of Byblos.
Edit: Gilded :o thanks! | When King Wendelin Wiedeking took the throne, his kingdom was on the verge of collapse. Wendelin's people were beset from all sides by marauding armies and debt collectors. It had gone from a powerhouse to a laughingstock through the hubris and ineptitude of its previous rulers.
However, Wendelin was different. He hadn't been born into nobility, but instead, had risen from humble beginnings through hard work. When he was given the throne, he had no delusions about a storied past or divine mandate. His humility led him to hire advisors from larger, more successful distant Eastern empires. Initially, Wendelin's people chafed under the yoke of these foreign nobles. Eventually, however, Wendelin's stewardship turned back his kingdom from the brink of failure, and his people rejoiced.
Wendelin's subjects viewed him as a man who could do no wrong. Soon, Wendelin grew to view himself in the same way, and he set his sights on a much bigger prize. To the west lay a much larger empire ruled by Ferdinand Piech. Ferdinand was a ruthless emperor. He surrounded himself with a constantly-rotating coterie of scheming advisors who were often executed after minor missteps. Ferdinand wasn't without his merits, however; under his rule, his empire flourished.
Wendelin knew he had no chance of conquering Ferdinand in standard warfare. Ferdinand's army and lands were several times larger. However, Wendelin hatched a plan. He rallied neighboring kingdoms to his side, promising them a share of the spoils of victory. The financiers and debt collectors who had once strangled his kingdom now lined up to finance his campaign. Wendelin used vast sums of borrowed wealth to purchase the finest sellswords and mercenaries around. Wendelin's mounting debt alarmed his advisors, but he told them not to worry: as soon as he had conquered Ferdinand's empire and gained access to their vaults, Wendelin would be able to pay off his debts many times over.
Wendelin marched his army to Ferdinand's borders. Ferdinand's forces were well-trained and numerous, but no match for Wendelin's makeshift army. Wendelin conquered several outer villages with ease. He won battle after battle, and continued to push further into Ferdinand's empire. All the while, he continued to borrow more money to keep his army supplied.
Soon, Wendelin had conquered nearly three-quarters of Ferdinand's empire. His once-humble kingdom was now the largest kingdom the world had ever seen. Kings and peasants alike were awed by Wendelin's maneuvering and prowess.
But his luck was not to last. He was just two days' march from the heart of Ferdinand's empire, and Ferdinand's vaults, when disaster struck. A drought swept across the land leading to riots and starvation. Several of Wendelin's allies retreated, and his lenders clamored to have their debts paid off immediately. Wendelin suddenly found himself with several enemies: not only Ferdinand, but those he had called allies only weeks before.
His lenders threatened to carve up his kingdom to pay off his debts. Wendelin begged for a brief reprieve; he could practically taste victory. Just one more battle and Ferdinand's capital would be under Wendelin's control. But no one would help him.
The kingdom he had spent decades rebuilding was about to collapse due to his hubris. Just when Wendelin had resigned himself to his fate, a savior emerged: Ferdinand. He offered Wendelin a deal, and Wendelin had no choice but to accept. Ferdinand paid off Wendelin's debts, and Wendelin became Ferdinand's vassal. And thus ends the story of how Volkswagen came to own Porsche. | 2015-06-10T10:25:42 | 2015-06-10T07:42:16 | 730 | 41 |
[WP] As you open up the newest edition of a commonly used history book you discover that the past in the book differs from what you are recalling from history classes and documentaries. After talking to different persons it seems odd as you are the only one the remember the past differently... | I opened up the book... But something felt off. I couldn't exactly place it. Was it a misspelling? Something off in an illustration?
I read the whole book, finding nothing. Casually throwing the book away, I figured I must've been wrong. That's when I noticed it- BARENSTAIN. | I raised my voice slightly. "Hey, I know I'm no history buff, but there is no need to get condescending!" It was involuntary, but Dominick was really pushing my buttons.
"I'm not being condescending. Your just being over sensitive." His reply was cool and level, making it all the more frustrating.
I flipped the book open to a random page. "See this? This is right!" I jabbed my finger into the face of John F. Kennedy.
"Yeah. He was shot in Dallas. There is some dispute to who really did it, but most people think the dispute is from conspiracy theorists. So?"
"IT'S NOT ABOUT WHAT'S RIGHT, IT'S ABOUT WHAT'S WRONG!" My voice was raising again and I caught myself. "I'm just saying... not everything in here is wrong, but there is a ton of stuff they messed up. Look at this."
I fumbled through the pages for what must have seemed like an eternity, before falling on a section about Europeans discovering North and South America.
"Look!" I held the book up in defiance "It's not even consistent! Columbus wasn't a brave trendsetter, but just a stubborn prick who sucked at math? If everyone knew the circumference of the earth was bigger than he said, why would ANYONE fund his trip? If Leif Ericson was here before Columbus, then why was everyone so sure Columbus would die at sea? It DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!"
Dominick rested a hand on my shoulder and frowned. "Come on man, let's grab some coffee. We can go through the chapters together." | 2015-10-11T09:42:19 | 2015-10-11T09:02:19 | 16 | 11 |
[WP] A team of scientists have successfully teleported an apple. It reappears with a bite taken out of it. | The screams of joy pierced the air. the group of men and women congratulated each other and hugs were thrown about as everyone seemed to get caught up in the jubilation.
"We did it, we finally fucking did it!" came a desperately happy cry from Steve, the head scientist. This had been his project for over 20 years, and it had finally yielded real results!
"Shut down the isolation field!" he shouted over the intercom to the other team where the apple had been teleported from.
There was a loud buzz as the field protecting the apple that sat in the centre of the machine dissipated. Steve moved up to the apple and grabbed it in his hand, almost on the brink of tears. He felt the apple in his hand, running his fingers over it. As he did, he let out a gasp. The jubilation immediately stopped. Everyone turned and stared at Steve, but he said nothing, instead he simply stared at the apple.
"Steve, for heaven's sakes, what's the matter?" asked Beverly, his second in command.
Slowly he turned himself to face them, showing them the apple as he did. It had a bite taken from it. Someone had clean bitten into it and ripped a chunk of it off. There were audible gasps from the rest of the team. Some started talking in low, hushed whispers. What could have caused this? Was there something wrong with the machine?
After a long silence had gripped the room, Steve finally spoke up.
"Get some more fruit, we're going to test again..."
In silence the scientists all moved to their stations as a basket of fruit was brought into the first room. One by one, each of the pieces were tested. An orange, a banana, a kiwi, even a melon. Each one emerged with a large bite taken out of it.
Eventually Steve screamed in frustration. "We're moving to human testing, right now." he stated angrily.
"Steve, you're not thinking straight, we clearly have some kinks to work out, and besides that, we haven't got a test sub-" but Beverly was cut off.
"I'll be the test subject." Steve replied, moving himself into the first room and climbing onto the platform where the fruit had been teleported from.
"You're nuts! Utter nuts! Don't do this, please!" Beverly begged.
"Activate the machine!" he called out. No one moved, instead they all stared at both him and Beverly.
"Shut the damned thing off!" Beverly commanded, but the male scientist immediately interjected. "FIRE THIS DAMN THING UP OR YOU'RE ALL FIRED!" he screamed.
There was a whirring noise and a force-field appeared around the scientist as he placed his hands in his pockets.
"On my command." he said, staring straight ahead.
"You're crazy, please...don't do this!"
"3." came the cold reply.
"Steve, I'm begging you!"
"2" he stated, turning slightly away from her.
"STEVE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP!" she cried, tears now forming, her desperation reaching a peak.
"1" Steve replied turning himself away from her fully.
There was a loud screeching noise, followed by a flash of white light. As the sight of the scientists was regained, there came a mass of loud screams from the second room.
Beverly darted for the room, pushing aside the others to see what had happened.
She fell to the floor and began sobbing as she saw the still body of her friend and colleague. He was laying on his back and a large chunk of his abdomen was missing and blood was pouring from the cavity. Something had been written on the back of his lab coat in blood.
'Fruit was better'. | "It has a bite taken out of it..." one of the lab techs mumbled with surprise as they entered the whitewashed windowless room where the apple had appeared.
Drew Jamison frowned as he pushed his way through the group of techs and assistants. "What the hell do you mean it has a bite taken out of it?" The initial excitement from the apple appearing down the hall had vanished. "Who did this?" Jamison roared, making the group cringe. Nobody moved or said a word. "If nobody takes responsibility for this," he said deliberately, each word dripping with venom, "I will have you all fired before the hour." He sighed, shooing them away as they scurried out of the room. Only Frank stayed; a slightly impish man with close eyes and a balding top.
"It worked, Drew," he murmured in quiet awe to his best friend who was furiously pacing the room.
"Did it, Frank? Or did one of those dumbasses come in here earlier and put a different apple on the table?" Frank shook his head.
"I just checked the tapes," he said holding up his phone. The security tape of the room they were in was looping. "Nobody came in here. The apple just appears." He didn't know whether he should be amazed or terrified.
Jamison took the phone in his hand, still trembling with rage. He had a quick temper and a habit of acting without a second thought. "By God, you're right. It just appears." His red face broke into a smile. "We did it, Frank! We did it."
They rushed back into the laboratory where the technicians and assistants were huddled in shame and worry. Without so much as an apology, Drew Jamison started speaking to them again. "Gentlemen, the teleportation device appears to be successful. Prepare the second test." They lifted the heavy steel bar that lay next to the teleportation pod, two men struggling to fit it on the reflective platform the beam would strike.
"Goggles on, ten seconds." A countdown started and they stared at the bar in anticipation. With a flash, it was gone, just like the apple had disappeared fifteen minutes earlier.
Jamison was the first in the room this time, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he burst in. "Oh my god..." he muttered, slowly backing out. The others huddled behind him, peering over his shoulder for a glance.
"What the hell..." The steel bar lay on the same table the apple had landed. But it wasn't whole. Something had bent and pulled the solid metal and teeth marks had left gnaws all along the edges. It was also a full six inches shorter than it had just been, one of the ends having been ripped off leaving only jagged metal.
"One last test," Jamison mumbled softly. The group paced back into the laboratory in fearful silence.
"What are you going to do?" Frank asked, staring at his friend and colleague with apprehension. Jamison ignored him as he grabbed a broom and began to sweep the platform where the beam would strike.
"Prepare the beam," he commanded but nobody moved.
"There's nothing there," Frank said awkwardly, wondering if the other man had finally gone insane.
"I know. Prepare the beam," Jamison repeated and the machine whirred to life again. "Ten seconds. Count." The countdown began and seemed to drag on an eternity before the beam burst from the machine, striking the empty platform. A massive crash from down the hall shock them from their trance-like state. The machine died down again and Jamison cautiously led the way to the room where the apple and steel bar had appeared.
He gulped audibly as they turned the corner. "What the *fuck*..." he mumbled and Frank added a string of curses as he too rounded the corner.
"Those walls are bomb-proof and radiation-proof and reinforced a dozen times over..." Jamison mumbled just loudly enough for the others to hear.
Frank took a deep breath before answering as he surveyed the damage. "It was warning us. The bites were warnings."
"There was nothing there, though," one of the technicians said, unsure as to whether or not this was obvious.
"There clearly was," Jamison muttered to himself. "Frank... the calculations when we made the teleporter..."
"What about them?" Frank asked suspiciously.
"We knew we would be breaking into a fourth dimension." Frank nodded. "We never considered life in that dimension, did we?"
Frank opened his mouth, searching for the right words before shaking his head. "It's just one dimension. It would be like a line attacking us..."
"We don't know how the other dimensions work, Frank... But now it's in our 3 dimensions and however many it was in before." He looked at the others who stood around him, mouths agape. "Someone has to go in to figure out what we're dealing with."
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | 2016-01-12T16:26:24 | 2016-01-12T15:39:06 | 285 | 46 |
[WP] All of humanity is wiped off the earth in some cataclysm. 1.7 billion years later an intelligent race of giant reptiles evolves. Human DNA is found trapped inside a block of amber. They begin to clone humans and start a theme park.
Edit: Sorry about the scientific inaccuracy in the prompt. Wasn't deliberate, just said fukkit and put in an arbitrarily large number. If it breaks your suspension of disbelief feel free to replace it with a more believable number.
This blew up! Thanks for writing these awesome stories guys! I'll probably be walking around laughing all day today.
Also, credit for the work for which this is a parody of goes to Michael Crichton. |
You'd think that they'd get bored of watching us. We aren't zoo animals, you know. Putting their oddly shaped coins in little dispensers and throwing chocolates at us from over the edge of the wall can't be all that entertaining. For God's sakes, it's not even good chocolate.
Of course, they don't realize what we know. I watch them every day, degrading myself, sitting on a rock and picking at my hair like some primitive caveman. They don't realize they dropped a history book in our cage once. A juvenile reptile had done so. Sure, it was written in a language we couldn't read, but it wasn't as if it took us long to learn.
My friends and I have collected everything that fell. We had their primitive version of a lighter, a few sheets of paper and writing utensils. And every day, we were taken to their odd laboratory for medical examinations. Every day, I tried not to laugh as they wrote down that changes that had occurred- none. They were baffled as to why we didn't regrow limbs or enjoy insects.
Good.
They know nothing, but I know everything. I have a map, and the toys provided to us make excellent weaponry. As soon as one disappears, they add another. Metal, plastic, wooden, whatever it is, it works.
They'll learn soon enough.
They're too peaceable for their own good. But I have revenge in mind. What remains of humanity will shake their world forever and they will never be the same again.
A bit terrible, but I wanted to address it from a different perspective and it was my five spare minutes.
| "Daddy look, the Monkeys are fighting!" said the small child, as he stared intently at the brawl that was breaking out. His scaled skin pressing against the blue electric glass of the enclosure.
The monkey in question, a small angry and pale man with a toothbrush mustache, was attempting to fight a much larger beast, a large and strong animal with a Walrus mustache. In the background, a fat bald monkey with an evil look about him, sat beside a another who was relatively hard to describe, his head fur balding and eyes looking keen and somewhat demeaning. The two observers were sharpening sticks with rocks, and making the ocassional hooting noise as the other two struggled in the dirt.
Suddenly, a voice blared out from a speaker above the glass. "Here we see, the different tribes fighting. This barbarian species, known as Douchus Arseholus, or Human for short, often argues amongst itself over trivial things such as land, and female mates. Despite this savage nature, they are competent builders and are even aware enough to craft tools from the objects around them. Here we see armbands on the Nazi tribe, crafted from toilet paper to identify each other."
"Woooow" gasped the large group of Reptillian children as they continued watching the fight. Static erupted from the speaker, and the voice shouted out again
"We also can see the two tribes sitting in the back, the Briti and the Yankers, making weapons. Normally they would just trade this weapons for food, though they are not averse to using them for their own purposes. Its thought that they're greed, is what ended the species overall." And with that, the two "Allied" tribes threw a sharpened stick into the fight, and it landed in the hand of the Walrus Mustache monkey who quickly began to fight back ferociously. After a few more minutes of struggle, the Toothbrush Monkey fell to the ground, bleeding and exhausted whilst the Walrus stood back and regained his breath, rugged pants echoing throughout the room.
Suddenly, the fat and bald Allied Monkey took action, leaping on the toothbrush monkey and attacking him whilst he was down, screeching ferociously and terrifyingly, causing some of the children watching to jump back in fear.
"The monkey attacking now, was previously injured by the toothbrush, and has been waiting for the right time to attack, we call him ChurchKill and he is a fairly nasty specimen"
Meanwhilst, the other allied beast, snuck up behind the Walrus Monkey, and impaled the back of his neck with the long stick he'd been saving. The Heroic Soviet Monkey fell to the ground, snarling and screaming like a beast... " And this children, is what we call World Paw Two"
(I'm bored, this sucks, I know. It took me five minutes to write and I wanted to write something :P) | 2016-06-20T04:01:26 | 2016-06-20T03:11:17 | 33 | 24 |
[WP] Superpowers can now be torrented. You were 70% of the way through torrenting a power you've always wanted when the download stops. | "No seeders found"
I glare at the screen in utter confusion. "*No* seeders? There were over 20 last night!" When you torrent a power, you seed it automatically, without any option to stop.
The only way to stop seeding a power is if you're killed... *Fuck*
Somebody out there doesn't want this power getting out. | I had always wanted to be able to fly. My entire life I watched birds and wished I could be like them, so free, so majestic. Earlier today, I found some information on a forum. Apparently, you could copy the powers of others and torrent them through the Internet! It sounded too good to be true, but then I saw my friend, or rather, didn't see him. He got invisibility from the torrent. I was excited, and wanted to try it out. I logged into my computer and found the torrenting site. I knew that this wasn't exactly "legal", but it's a victimless crime - it's not like I'm stealing or anything. The download begins. I'm smiling in anticipation. 5% complete. 10% complete. I can't wait, I'm overjoyed! 35% complete. 50% complete. It's halfway done! I'm almost there! 55% 65% 68% 69% 70%. It stopped. "Perhaps it's just slowing down" I thought. After about a minute, I realized that it wouldn't go any further. Suddenly I heard sirens, and the sound of my door getting kicked down. I looked out of my bedroom window and saw 4 SWAT vans, and a helicopter circling overhead. They shined a spotlight into my window. Suddenly, I was surrounded by 8 men in riot armor. They made me put my hands up, away from the keyboard. Putting me in cuffs they said "You wouldn't download a car". | 2016-07-02T20:01:23 | 2016-07-02T17:12:58 | 32 | 24 |
[WP] While walking, you notice everyone recoiling from a young woman. you speak to her to find out why. through her surprise, she explains she is death and everyone else sees a person based on how they feel about the concept of death. You've never seen a more beautiful or inviting person.
Please feel free to finesse the topic, genders, or concept to accommodate your own personal preferences or circumstances. | "You...you're death? But...you're so..." I stammered, amazed by what I saw. I had never really felt an attraction to a living person before, but the woman standing before me changed that.
"So what?" She questioned, tilting her head curiously.
"Beautiful. You are incredibly beautiful." I was astonished that I was able to speak even though she had taken my breath away.
She giggled. "Beautiful? I can't say I get called that very often. Many people see me differently."
"What do people usually see you as?"
"Rotting, decaying, diseased...you know, death-related things. You should be alarmed, honestly."
"Alarmed?" I paused. "Why is that?"
"Well, people only really see me as 'beautiful' if...if they're, longing for me. You know. Suicidal." She sounded strangely sad, but I could only smile.
"Oh don't worry, I'm far from suicidal. I'm loving every minute of living, honest."
"You are? Then it's curious as to why you see me this way, human."
"Oh it's not really all that curious, I'm just a necrophiliac is all." | 'You're just too good to be true... can't take my eyes off of you...'
The famous Frankie Valli song played over and over in my head as I stood enchanted by this magnificent woman. I looked around to see if others had noticed her as well, and was shocked to see the reactions.
One man stopped in his tracks like a deer in the headlights, with a look of speechless terror in his eyes. Another woman took one glance and began to cry hysterically. And one old man looked at her and began to nod his head with a sad pitiful expression of submission.
It didn't make sense, how could no one be acknowledging the beauty of this woman? Did she have some terrible body odour? An ugly voice? A terrible scar that I couldn't see from where I stood? I had to know, so I approached her slowly, and when I got to within 10 feet we locked eyes.
Her eyes were a gorgeous green colour that I had never seen before, and when I smiled, she revealed a smile more perfect than any other. Tongue tied, I let out a barely audible "Hi" and stood captivated for her response. She seemed almost caught off guard that someone actually wanted to converse, and responded with a pleasant "Hello there Adam." This took me by surprise, how did she know my name?
"Don't be alarmed Adam, I try to learn the names of all of Earth's souls, it's the least I could do for when we eventually meet." I raised an eyebrow and had a look of confusion on my face as I inspected her face for clues of sarcasm.
"What I'm trying to say is... I am death Adam, and every soul must eventually meet me. And as you can probably imagine, death is not a pretty sight for most people."
My eyebrow lowered, and along with it my jaw, as shock took the place of confusion. I let out a mumbled response, "B-b-but... you look so beautiful..." She smiled, seeming flattered by what I mumbled and explained, "That's because you are not like most people Adam, you are a kind and pure man, living for a life beyond this one."
I was flattered to hear this, but a little taken aback, was I about to die? I did not fear death, but I was not yet ready to die.
She seemed to sense my unease, and quickly clarified, "Don't worry, it is not yet your time. But when you do see me again, make sure to smile..." | 2016-10-01T22:29:31 | 2016-10-01T21:35:15 | 4,176 | 16 |
[WP] While walking, you notice everyone recoiling from a young woman. you speak to her to find out why. through her surprise, she explains she is death and everyone else sees a person based on how they feel about the concept of death. You've never seen a more beautiful or inviting person.
Please feel free to finesse the topic, genders, or concept to accommodate your own personal preferences or circumstances. | Eight hour work day. Come home via transport, play video games, make dinner. Go to sleep.
Wake up.
Rinse and repeat.
He wasn't the smartest person in high school. He got his diploma, he got out of there, out of the *system* that he had always detested, watched as the honours students all went to university.
He worked every day. It was a nice job, relatively: it wasn't too horrid, not like retail had been when he was going to school, and it kept food on the table.
Eight hour work day. Bus home. Bit of Dota. Eat dinner. Sleep, wake up.
Again and again. He wasn’t even paying attention any more, he couldn’t remember what he had done yesterday, the weekends were a blur of drinking alone. Was the life of his old acquaintances like this?
No, he reminded himself. They had friends. They made friends.
He had friends, once, didn’t he? Back in school. Right. Wonder what happened to them.
Work. Bus. Game. Eat. Sleep? Get up.
He sat beside a woman on the bus. About his age, tall, beautiful.
“Hi.”
Good going. He’s not worth anything, he’s so awkward, intimidated by the idea of having human contact outside his workplace. What a failure. Waste of life.
She blushes and turns away, a little bit, then looks at him. “Hello.”
They talk, for a few minutes, before the bus stops. He gets her name - Libitina. She says it’s latin, her parents were rather into history. He doesn’t really care. She gives him her number, and gets off.
Work for a few hours. Take the bus home, but she isn’t there, that’s all right, she said she had a very time consuming job. He turns on the television. Shooting in a mall downtown.
He locks his door.
Dinner is good. It has a little more flavour, today, perhaps. But he doesn’t notice, and he goes to bed.
Wake up.
He sees her on the bus again, and he sits beside her. They talk a little - she’s into philosophy. Him? He’s into … well, not much. She recommends writing, he remembers he enjoyed it when he was in school. Makes a mental note to get some paper that his notes can be physical.
He works, and his boss tells him to go home early, you worked hard today.
She’s on the phone and they talk, him sitting in front of his computer, looking up writing guides. There was this story he always wanted to write, he remembers now, and it gnaws at him a little. He doesn’t stop smiling until he falls asleep.
They chat on the bus again and he’s a bit worried. She doesn’t look so great, today, a bit of an ashen look tinging her features. He’d ask, but knows not to pry. Perhaps she’s ill - but she was fine yesterday.
He gets a raise. His boss pats him on the back.
They talk into the night, and he’s never felt better.
He’s never had a girlfriend before, but he’s so lonely, maybe he’s found one? Maybe he’s found *the one*. It’s odd, but he’s never felt this eager waiting for the bus.
He doesn’t see her on the bus, today. He sits beside an elderly woman, and she smiles at him. He smiles back and they talk a little bit. She’s into philosophy. | I noticed the wide space left, by people avoiding her, first.
"Man, that lady's so pretty even the girls are scared to get caught looking t her." I thought to myself as I walked towards home. A few canned ravioli and a box of crackers bounced together with each step I took.
The lady walked in a subtle glide. Each step masked by her long dress. It was so smooth you could never determine when either foot would fall. Her hands didn't even give away movement, they were clasped in front of her holding a small handbag. Her cool white skin seemingly made of milky water was pure marble without the gray colors. Her raven hair lay in shiny straight lines beside her face.
I drew her attention as I stared at her, regretting it almost immediately. I never intended to embarrass her. I never really got stared at, I assume "embarrassed" was how you felt when you caught someone watching you. I sucked in a deep, sharp breath, bit my bottom lip, and proceeded to do something I'd never done before. I went to go talk to a pretty lady.
"I, I think, I think I'm sorry." I mumbled in my assassination of English as a language.
"You... think?" She said with a coy smile pulling up the right corner of her lip.
"I mean, what I mean is I *am* sorry. I just don't know if I should be or not." I flubbed further. Why couldn't my mouth, word, or my mind, brain?
"Let's try this." She said raising the other side of her lip with the other. "Why do you *think* you should be sorry?"
"I was looking at you and you're pretty. So, I am sure you're probably tired of being stared at by people like me who think you're pretty. I didn't want to think you were pretty and stare at you because you were pretty but you are pretty... and, and I'm making things worse now." I managed to say in a single unbroken breath. "Could you just, ya know, go ahead and kill me."
Her eyes shot open wide and focused on mine for a brief second after that last sentence.
"So, you do know? You do know who I am?" All color and cheer now gone from her voice.
"I may? I don't think I recognize you, did we go to school together? If so, I am really sorry, I've kinda lost touch with everyone and forget names and faces really easily." At least the words were coherent and made some kind of a sense.
"So, you don't know me then?" She said with a look of complete befuddlement on her face.
"I guess, well I guess not. Are you famous? I am even worse with actor's names and faces than I am with real people. I've watched entire movies before trying to remember where I'd seen the lead actor before, only to realize on the way out that it's a sequel." If you're going to fail, fail big they say. It's always best to imply that not only are you disrespectful and incompetent but also very, very stupid.
"I am famous, in a sense..." She said as her smile returned.
"You're not like the U.S. president or something are you? Because I might not ever live that embarrassment down." I said returning her smile.
She actually laughed. Like a light bark. It was almost as if it were an action she'd completely forgotten she could take.
"Anyways, I really am sorry for staring at you. I just had never seen a lady as lovely as you and thought that if I missed the chance to look at you for as long as I could, that I might regret it. I don't spend a lot of time regretting things but that feels like one thing I might have to make an exception for." Imply you're a stalker! Wonderful idea! I regained my footing, it felt like, only to fall directly onto my ass.
"I do not mind. I don't think many people even glance at me, let alone stare. To find one of you who sees me so, it is quite endearing." She spoke as if from a time long since forgotten. In an unfamiliar accent.
"I never do this. I promise I never do but, would you, would you want to maybe grab lunch?" I managed to squeeze out before the nerve left me.
She stood completely still. Not that she'd moved much before but her motions were now imperceptible. The width of her eyes did not inspire much hope, yet before she spoke again she smiled an almost goofy toothy grin.
"I have never been asked, as such. It would be agreeable to me." She said, letting the corners of her eyes scrunch into the smile. "Would now be acceptable?"
I smiled in a much larger manner than she had. "Of course. Now is perfect."
to be continued. | 2016-10-01T22:22:50 | 2016-10-01T21:32:07 | 3,031 | 269 |
[WP]You are a SWAT team member with one big problem: you are a vampire. Your life depends on asking permission before you get through the door, and somehow you pull it off every time. | Being an ancient horror and adapting to modern times is always a challenge.
Ovidiu was one of the last of the originals, or what he considered an original anyway.
He figured out that a monster needed to find a niche in order to survive.
His was violence.
From foot soldier to gladiator to assassin, he worked his way through the ages.
When modern times came, he decided to try to blend into society with a little more grace.
A police officer would make sense, and with a little natural talent he made it to SWAT.
Every new job had its challenges, namely not able being open to rip open someones carotid artery on a whim, and this one was no different.
It took some time to figure out the usual ways around the whole, "have to be invited in" thing. He eventually settled on the man in front of him saying, "On my six" or "Check the right". It wasn't perfect but usually if the guy wasn't inside yet he'd say it again if Ovidiu didn't comply.
This time, this time was different. The squad was sick, the whole squad. Ovidiu was tasked to lead a bunch of beat cops in riot gear into a bar.
The call came in that some loony had holed up in a bar and was shooting anything that came close to a window.
It was pretty routine, the squad showed up, snuck up on the door, hugging the wall, because of his experience Ovidiu was leading the team.
He inched to the door, trying to figure out how he was going to enter.
He took another silent step and hell broke loose.
The beat cops weren't crouching low enough and the perp took advantage of the top of a helmet in a window.
The sound of gunfire tore through the air as one of the poor beaties dropped to the ground sans top of his skull.
Then, instantly, silence followed with the voice of the perp.
"You pigs want me! You come and take me!"
Ovidiu smirked
| “Every. Fuckin’. Time. Why do they even keep ‘im on the goddamn team?”
“You know why. He’s the best we have.”
“He’s a goddamn nuisance is what he is.”
Baker, a gruff landmass of a man with at least six inches on the rest of the squad, spit on the floor and shuffled his weight from foot to foot; his impatience grew with every mission they went on. His partner, Jed, shrugged.
Baker looked Tam up and down; the pathetic waif - and he didn’t just call the other man that due to his own size; Tam was only 5’4” and 130 pounds soaking wet - was garbed in a pizza delivery outfit this time. He could probably crush the little fucker with his pinky, and yet he was respected and revered by everyone at the precinct.
Tam, appearing at Baker’s side with a pop, looked down at the gaudy, cheap clothes. Not exactly noble, but it got the job done. He shrugged and chucked the mountain of a man under the chin, standing on the tip of his toes to do so. “Sorry, big boy. Them’s the breaks.”
Looking like he was about to bust a blood vessel, Baker gritted his teeth and clenched his nails into his palms in an attempt to not lay the waif out right then and there.
Practically skipping away with the stack of steaming boxes, Tam gave the rest of the team the signal, and they became one with the walls leading to the apartment; they would wait for his entry, and follow.
Raising a pale white hand to the door, Tam rapped his knuckles three times.
*Knock*. Drug bust, at least 7 inside, --
*Knock*. -- all heavily armed, dangerous criminals on the run, --
*Knock*. -- and they decide to order a pizza?
Shuffling noises came from inside. Tam could hear nine heartbeats, five of them faster than they should’ve been. Must be the drugs. Intel was never right on the important stuff. He sighed.
“Whaddaya want?” came the surly voice from behind the door.
“Pizza delivery.”
The door swung open to reveal a tall, brutish man with a deep scar running around the base of his throat. He gave Tam a onceover and, detecting no threat, motioned for him to come inside.
“I don’t know how you guys could even want pizza with all that coke running through your systems,” Tam chuckled.
The brute grabbed the gun on his hip, but before he could even make contact the seething colony of bats that’d been Tam descended upon him, throwing him into the wall and knocking him out cold.
As the rest of the team burst into view, weapons raised and shouting, Jed grinned at Baker and said “Ya gotta admit, kid’s got flair.”
Rolling his eyes, Baker unholstered his piece and joined the fray, shouting back at his partner. “That ‘kid’ is four hundred years your senior.”
*****
S.A Decomprosed
[Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/decomprosed) | [Tumblr](http://decomprosed.tumblr.com) | [Reddit](http://reddit.com/r/decomprosed) | 2016-10-11T14:19:01 | 2016-10-11T14:04:34 | 98 | 61 |
[WP] Years ago, you promised your firstborn to a witch. Since then, despite your best efforts, you can't seem to get laid. The witch is starting to get pretty pissed. | Honestly, the whole deal began as a joke. I met her on Halloween, the only time I really go out, on Cherry street, at midnight. She had a very convincing Witch costume, from the robes to the buckled hat. You'd almost think she *was* a witch if she didn't have that smooth white skin.
We hit it off, and became good friends. I'll admit... she was one of my only friends, let alone one who understands my strife. Strangely, she never took off her Witch costume that night. Then again, I never took off my Grim Reaper costume. After some casual conversation, and hammering me with questions, I was locked in. The deal was set, the contract was signed. I didn't even know there was a deal.
"Your firstborn in exchange for your greatest desire. You have until next Halloween, at the Witching Hour, to bring me a woman with child. If you fail to deliver, your mortal soul is mine." She said.
Greatest desire? I have no desires. My only desire would be the end of my suffering... but no witch's power could deliver that.
"You have no idea what you've just done to yourself, Witch. Have you no idea who you've dealt with?"
"I don't care who you are. A celebrity, a politician, a Nobel laureate; you're still mortal. Your firstborn by Halloween or your soul."
*11 months later*
My romantic life is... well... not doing very well. I haven't found anyone who'll do the act with me. Every woman avoids me like I'm death.
"Have you impregnated anyone yet?"
"Nah. Haven't found a woman who'll get in bed with me."
All the poetic stuff really went down the drain after the first month. Now, we just talked like friends. I only had one more month to fulfill my end of the deal, or lose my soul.
"Seriously, man? It's been 11 months! How have you not gotten laid yet?"
"Maybe if I didn't have a witch breathing down my neck every time I go on a date, I'd be able to have sex!"
"Don't blame this on me! You made the deal!"
"I didn't know there was a deal. You asked me 'Would you rather have a child or your greatest desire?'! Does that sound like a clear-cut deal to you?"
"A deal is a deal, nonetheless."
"OK, how about this: would you rather have your soul taken by the reaper or give up a contract?"
"Give up a contract."
I laughed. And I laughed and I laughed. How, oh how, did she not know? Finally, my laughter stopped.
"Have you no idea what you've done, Witch? *Have you no idea?*"
My eyes glew a deep shade of crimson, the only thing seen under the shade of my dark cloak.
"Do you know who I am, Witch?"
"Y-you... you"
The sound of my voice boomed, filling the room around her.
"SPIT IT OUT, WITCH."
"Y-you're the R-reaper..."
"Hahahahaha... hahahahaha... correct. Tell me, what have you done?"
"M-made a d-deal?"
"Bingo! Now, what must you do?"
"Give up the c-contract?"
"Get to it, witch."
*****
Did you expect the ending? Give it a re-read and see if you can find the hints. If you liked this story, you can find more of my work at /r/Picklestasteg00d.
| Ping.
The room was lit, momentarily, by the notification that popped up on my phone screen. Dammit, I thought I'd finally figured out how to block her. Guess ancient geas are a tad more complicated to escape than a quick swipe left. Oh well, what action failed to resolve I'm sure procrastination would sort right out.
The message quickly faded and the screen dimmed until all that was left to record its passing was a single addition to the three hundred and forty two other attention starved residents of my, rapidly overflowing, inbox. At first I'd read them all, she seemed so earnest about the whole thing. And I'd tried, I really had. Signed up for every dating site she'd forwarded. Even the ones with prominently displayed six-pacs and chaps who seemed to have dropped the soap. Whilst not wearing trousers. Of course those had petered out after a somewhat uncomfortable discussion about science in general, biology in particular, and how two birds can't make a hive and other, extremely tortured, euphemisms. Couple hundred years under the belt and apparently she hadn't figured out the particular mechanics of where first borns actually come from. Amazing what isn't included in ye olde witchy curricula.
It's not like I wasn't trying. And to be fair, she should have suspected that payment would take a while. A contract, signed in red ink after I'd fainted at the mention of blood, to bind eldridge abominations to the fulfillment of my heart's deepest desire...a new series of the oft maligned, criminally under-rated, "Space Lads!" franchise, the greatest tour de force in speculative science fiction cinematography since...well, ever. We'd met on a Friday night. At 9. I was already in my star wars jammies. There was coco. In a mug proudly emblazoned with a cat declaring its dislike for Mondays. We'd spent hours crafting the exact clauses, piles of my favorite philosophy and legal reference books had steadily grown as we'd argued over epistemology and grammatical nuance. I'd giggled. Frequently. An expression of nervous mirth that has been described as something only a mother could tolerate. She really should have known better.
But she hadn't. And now we find ourselves in this weird relationship. She's become my mom, at least the way she'd been before she'd given up and accepted Mister Meow-gi as a furrier, more feline, grandchild than was originally expected.
And really I shouldn't complain, it's not that bad. Certainly the penis enlargement forwards had been perhaps a little unkind, but her heart was probably in the right place. And to her credit, she'd really done a lot to fill in the blanks since our conversation. The articles she clipped out of Cosmo and dropped through the letterbox certainly displayed a rather more developed sense of bedroom business than she'd had before. I dare say she hadn't imagined there were more than 2 uses for toothpaste, let along the 28 rather crude suggestions in this week's edition, before she'd met me. Admittedly we'd had a very heated discussion after those incidents with the girls she'd bought over - frankly I'm not convinced that kidnapping is an ancient witch tradition (fortunately a bracing cup of coco, a few episodes of Space Lads!, and a chat about warding rituals and banishing potions left everyone a lot happier than they'd been once gags were removed and argyle socks handed out) but she was getting desperate and had had a very different upbringing, poor dear. And of course I'm too much of a gentleman to repeat the whole love potion palaver.
So now she goes speed dating on my behalf. Sends me photos of the ones I might like. Their phone numbers sometimes. She scours internet sites and places lonely heart ads in the papers. She's joined 3 knitting circles and knows the name, profession, and ovulation cycle of every single woman in the city. A decent portion of the human-adjacent supernatural community as well. Next week she's taking us on a singles cruise. I thought she'd learned her lesson after the utter failure that was dancing class. And the extremely unfortunate series of events that's seen us banned from every bar within a decent drive. At least she's never followed through on the threats of karaoke and singles night.
I feel terrible about letting her down but I'm so busy. The Space Lads! fan-club really does take up so very much of my time and attention. Then there's the conventions to plan for. Taxes that need to be preprepared. The sock drawer needs a dusting. So many demands on my time.
Anyway, I think all the socializing is really rather good for her. She hasn't had time to hex anyone in weeks.
| 2016-10-18T00:08:11 | 2016-10-17T17:31:22 | 30 | 20 |
[WP] Everyone receives a letter when they turn 18 stating how they will die. You've just received your letter, and it's blank. | I dropped the piece of paper. "This is awesome" I thought, "I'm immortal! I can do anything!" and ran out the door laughing at all the things I would try. As the letter drifted to the floor it turned and landed face side up, where two words were printed clearly; "Severe stupidity". | My rough callused hands shook slightly as I took out an old letter. One from the day I was eighteen. It seems an eternity ago, and technically it was. I grew up an engineer, dabbling in physics and working with a team to improve space travel. We stumbled upon new methods, methods that would allow travel at light speed while keeping the rules of nature intact. I volunteered to be the first on board. Instruments behaved oddly and wouldn't record accurately. I knew it was safe enough, but even a relatively short journey at light speed meant many years my loved ones would be without me. I would not age, but my wife and children would. They should have been my age now, and my wife old and feeble. Now, I can only presume they've died along with several generations after.
The thing is, we discovered how to get up to the speed of light, but only in theory. Testing was difficult but we had enough data to confirm it worked. We thought of it like anything else. Reverse the direction of energy to slow down but that went wrong. On this self sustaining ship, alone, the reality was much more complicated than we expected. I could not stop, forever doomed to travel through the universe, stuck in time at the speed of light. Only slight adjustments could be made to my path, not enough to turn around and get home before the death of our local sun, but just enough to avoid any collisions. I slid the blank letter describing my death back into it's envelope. | 2017-01-17T15:58:50 | 2017-01-17T13:31:18 | 46 | 23 |
[WP] At age 15 you told the gf you were "in love" with that you'd always be there when she was in need. Aphrodite heard you and made it a reality, whenever your gf was in need you appear at her side. Problem is, you and the girl broke up after 3 weeks but you still appear even now..10 years later | Charles let out a small smirk, glancing at his almost teary eyed opponent. Well he wasn't crying, or even closed to teary eyed, but Charles knew that on the inside, his opponent was in utter shambles. After a grueling 4 hour match, he had finally figured out the move that would lead to his eventual victory, the simple, yet elegant, Qd3. And by the looks of the opponent, he had come to this realization as well. Charles was a few moves away from becoming the Chess World Champion, a goal he had aspired for since his youth.
The grin on his face becoming wider, he moved his hands towards the Black Queen piece in front of him. The moment he touched the piece, however, he started to feel the sensation he dreaded oh so much.
"Oh, for fucks sake, not now," he thought to himself, the panic rising. "Please, what did I ever do to deserve this. I mean I know torrenting that one Teletubbies Epi-," and before his thought was finished, he vanished from the stage, just like that, leaving his opponent, and the audience, bewildered.
Moments after he left the stage, he started to materialize in an all too familiar room, surrounded with a bunch of kids and their parents. Everyone gazed in awe, some mouths gaping wide open, as they saw the fully suited up Charles pop into existence, seemingly out of nowhere.
Little Johnny tugged at his mom's collar, "Mommy, is that what they call a real magician?" Naturally, Johnny's mom was too awestruck to respond, her eyes fixated on the rather dashing Charles.
Charles body started to heat up, and he was blushing wildly, "Uh, hello everyone. I assure you, this is not what it looks like." He started to scan the room quickly, and saw Lana standing in front of the sliding door that lead out. Making his way briskly towards her, brushing past the crowd of startled parents and kids, he gently grabbed her by the shoulder, and took her outside. But not before giving his best fake smile to everyone inside, "Ladies and Gentlemen, that has been the surprise act for the day, please enjoy the rest of the show. Making a swift motion with his hands, he bowed down, his toupee falling off and falling right into his hands.
"And yet, another part of the act, the disappearing hair act," Charles lamented, gritting his teeth together, knowing what he said made absolutely no sense. He heard a few laughs from the parents and kids alike, before shutting the door behind him. While adjusting his toupee, he glared at Lana, who was shifting her feet uncomfortably, staring at the grass surface beneath her newly bought red Nike Shoes, complimenting her freshly dyed Scarlet Red hair.
"My God, woman, what is it now? I don't see a single thing that could be possibly be wrong," Charles bellowed, his arms flailing wildly, "Do you realize where I was before this?" With a loud stomp of his foot, he continued his onslaught of words, "I was this close," his index and thumb finger a hairs width apart, "This fucking close to winning the World Chess Cham-"
"I, uh, need help with this new game I'm playing," Lana muttered, bringing her iPhone up to Charles' face.
"What."
"I can't progress, and I'm really frustrated because this one player keeps kicking my ass."
Charles jaw dropped, and using every last bit of his remaining energy from collapsing, he whispered, "... The Legend 27?" | “You know, have you ever tried being responsible for your own shit, instead of relying on some witches curse to have me do your laundry?”, Shane snarked at Sandra.
“You’re just too convenient.”, she smirked, looking Shane up and down.”Besides, it’s more important than my laundry.” Sandra had gotten into some trouble with some seniors. Sandra and her current boyfriend, Rumio, were the town’s local supply of dope, and less than lethal party drugs; like acid, shrooms, and ecstasy. It was a small town with a poor, small market, and not really many dealers to go to. Even though Sandra and Rumio kept a “code” to never sell any amount of or any type of drug that they knew would kill a particular person, they never made a code to never skimp their customers.
“What, do you need a loan or some shit? Or are you just horny and your boyfriend isn’t around again?” Shane was rather pissed at this point. A day hadn’t gone by that Aphrodite’s curse hadn’t played it’s merciless joke on him. It had been calming down recently, and he figured he might be able to start having a normal life again. Shane was supposed to be at the premiere of a big blockbuster hit, “The Comedical Advancements of Hubris the Flying Baby”, but in the middle of the previews was sucked back into the grip of Sandra’s hurricane of a life.
“No, I need somebody that can hold a gun.” Sandra handed over a .22.
“What the fuck is this peashooter gonna do?”
“It’s gonna scare off these jocks we fucked with.” Sandra and Rumio had taken it upon themselves to not only sell a football player a bag of chopped up romaine, but hadn’t even given him the proper gram to dollar ratio. Sandra and Rumio had sold oregano to this kid before, so they figured he would probably still be too stupid to tell the difference. But Kenneth, the fool, had smoked lettuce in his youth after hearing talk through his bedroom door of “smoking the devil’s lettuce.”
“And why should I give a fuck that you pissed some jocks off?”
“Because even if you leave, you’re just gonna come back when they actually show up.” They of course being the entire football team; small town sports teams are essentially packs of hyenas.
“So why don’t I go get a real weapon, like a chainsaw? Or a steak knife?”
“Because we’re not trying to kill them, we’re trying to get them to fuck off. We don’t need heat all over our shit, man.” Sandra shoved the .22 into Shane’s chest. She stormed off into another room to grab her phone and her baton. While she called Rumio, Shane looked out the window.
“You got any idea what type of car these kids might roll up in?”
“I don’t know, probably some busted up piece of shit. Pretty sure Ken’s dad own a Thunderbird.” Rumio picked up, Sandra asked, “Hey, where are you, babe?”
“Pulling up right now.” Just then a green Thunderbird swerved right into his driveway. Rumio parked quickly, reached for his bat in the back seat, and got out. Five kids exited the Thunderbird, all looking around before a couple charged towards Rumio. Sandra and Shane came leaping off the front porch towards Rumio, trying to distract a couple of the linebackers. Rumio managed to break a kneecap on of the kids, but took an uppercut from his backup. Rumio tried shoving the kid away via tip of bat. It hurt the player’s chest, but he grabbed the bat and swung it to the side.
Sandra wasn’t strong, but people didn’t think a baton swing to the ribs wasn’t gonna hurt. Shane had been in a few fights, via Sandra, but still didn’t stand a chance against the neanderthals of the frontline. It wasn’t too soon before Shane pulled out… Bang! Shane had plucked one of them in the eye, and it started to bleed. They all scattered back to the car before Shane could pull the trigger again.
“They’re just gonna come back, you know.” Shane looked at the two of them locked in arms.
“Yeah, but at least we got Slickshot Shane to back us up when the rattlesnakes show up.” Sandra smirked at Shane and giggled a bit.
Rumi told Shane, “Yeah and if you let my girlfriend die, I’ll be sure to send your ass to Aphrodite myself.” Shane rolled his eyes and shoved his way through the lovebirds, and murmured something under his breath, probably something of the usual, “this curse is bullshit, I’m not even getting laid.” The couple renounced themselves to their abode, only to find Shane in their room.
“I knew you hadn’t done your fucking laundry yet.” | 2017-03-22T15:15:54 | 2017-03-22T14:43:57 | 135 | 47 |
[WP] If, when you die, you don't get into heaven, there is an option to try again, and get in the next time. There is a man who has been trying for millennia; he has been Ghengis Khan, Hitler, and many other brutal leaders. That man is you, and this time, you're determined to get it right. | "What am I doing wrong?"
I said it out loud, but I knew he wouldn't answer. He just sat there and asked again,
"Give up? Or try again?".
His question echoed as if we were in a cave, but the room was about the size of a elevator. It would have terrified me if this was my first time. That was long ago, from Cain, to Ghengis, to Nero, to... I can't remember.
But I swear, I tried everything. I fought for myself. I fought for others. I fought for God, all of them. I fought for king and country. Yet, I still come here.
Did I fight hard enough? Was it the wrong target? Was I not strong enough? Was I not smart enough? Could I have fough-...
...Fought...
"Fighting. Was that it? Was I to focused on fighting? Should I have been doing something else?"
"Give up? Or try again?" He bellowed.
What else is there? Fighting wasn't getting me anywhere. I have to try something new.
But what?
Well, what's the opposite of war?
Peace?
Yeah, yeah that might be it. Peace.
"Give up? Or try again?" He bellowed.
"Try again." I answered.
"What will your name be?" He inquired.
"Hmm, let's go with...
Mahatma Gandhi." | "Well, looks like you're back again. Where are you going to now?" the angel asked. It didn't look like he was impressed with my achievements as a rebellion leader in the 28th century. In fact, he looked at me like this is the billionth time I was here, just like the question he asked had implied. However, I couldn't recall actually being here. Hell, I didn't even know my cause of death. "What are you talking about? Have I died before? How did I die?" I asked. "You... You don't know? I need to consult an archangel about this." was the response from the now slightly stressed-looking angel. He rushed off to somewhere, leaving me in the seemingly sterile environment that consisted mostly of clouds, with small rooms of marble here and there. The angel came back eventually, accompanied by an armed and armoured man, presumably the archangel he was talking about before. "This is the one, sir, the one that cannot recall his past lives or cause of death." he said, referring to me. The archangel was seemingly taken aback by my presence, as he drew his weapon and plunged it into the ground, probably to intimidate me. It didn't work, I had seen much more intimidating foes as a rebel leader. "So, you don't know who you were?" he inquired, almost as if he didn't believe me. "Well, I know I was named Sir Satan during my life," I replied, "nobody knows what my birth name was, as it was lost to time when Imperial Intelligence captured me."
The angel and what I assumed was his superior retreated to a door that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Speaking of things suddenly spawning, a number of other spirits were starting to rise from the ground. They look oddly familiar, yet I do not recognise them. While I tried to figure out who they were, the heavenly beings returned. They told me, "Well, after some rather intense discussing with the other angels, some saints and even God himself, we have decided to tell you.
In multiple lifetimes, you have aspired to take over the world, exterminate the human race as well as other races, and actually blew up a planet. You've gone into history as some of the worst people imaginable. Do the names Adolf Hitler, Genghis Khan, Q'im Juah, and Joseph Stalin ring a bell?". I nodded. The spirits that rose around me started to become less obscured, and the facial features of the men he mentioned started to become visible. "You're going to get one last chance. If you don't get into heaven then, you're going to rot in hell for eternity, at the command of the man you pretended to be in your last life. Do you understand, and accept this chance?"
> *My first submission. Feedback would be much appreciated.* | 2017-03-31T12:40:36 | 2017-03-31T11:14:34 | 71 | 13 |
[WP] If, when you die, you don't get into heaven, there is an option to try again, and get in the next time. There is a man who has been trying for millennia; he has been Ghengis Khan, Hitler, and many other brutal leaders. That man is you, and this time, you're determined to get it right. | "Really, again?"
"I mean, it could have been worse, right?" I sigh and scratch the back of my head.
"Six million jews," god's brow furrows and his glare pierces my soul, "six million of them."
I cross my arms and scowl right back at him. "They were causing an economic decline in Germany."
"They were my children."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah so were the dinosaurs until you dropped a special little birthday present on the-"
"SHUT UP!" Gods thunderous voice booms throughout the heavens, knocking me on to my ass. "Listen to me, and listen well. I am a merciful and all loving god, and thus I have decided to give you one last chance." He leans in closer, his giant all seeing eye intently focused on my mortal body. "If you mess this one up, it's all over. I can no longer keep you from the grasps of Satan, you understand me?"
I get to my feet and brush the dirt off myself, fixing my shirt. "I will do my best on this one, you have my word."
Gods face contorts, clearly not believing me. "I'm doing this because I love you, you understand that, right?"
"Oh jesus, don't get all mushy on me."
"You leave Jesus out of this."
"Fuck, just send me back already won't you?"
With a sigh god nods, raising his mighty fist above me. With a roar it hurtles down at me, my world fading to black just before it smashes into me.
My eyes blink open to a blinding light. Struggling to see I blink again, a giant masked face appearing before me. " A beautiful little boy," a gloved hand runs over my baby smooth head, "what will you name him?"
"Donald J. Trump." | There she was again, fat face, full of cake, laughing as she told me another anecdote of her worthless kid, spraying food all over my desk. I hate Karen, hated her since I first started working at this paper company. This pathetic job, with is grey walls, stale coffee, worn carpet and depressing looking people. It was all beneath me, I could be great again, reach such great heights again... But patience. Patience was key this time. I was determined to get it right. I had an outlet this time.
As I left work and walked the poorly paved streets to the grocery store, the rain tapping away lightly on my face, past the safe unimaginative buildings that littered this city, I thought of all the grandure I could bring to it if I were in charge again. How I can elevate this city, this country, to new levels of greatness, create a standard of living for the select chosen few... But patience, there was still time. I had an outlet now.
Standing in line, waiting to pay for my food, I saw a man cut in line with the pretence of talking to a friend he just happened to see. People looked angrily at him, but said nothing. City of wimps. My blood was boiling, that vein on my head was throbbing, so I gazed at the woman standing near me, her baby strapped to her. She was attractive, her black hair falling effortlessly on her shoulders. The child looking around in wonderment. And suddenly a hunger filled me. I wanted her, right here, on the store floor. I would raid her house, kill her husband, smash her baby... no, must be patient, it was almost time for my outlet.
I sat on the couch, belly full, watching the blond haired chubby monkey they called leader of the free world talking his nonsense. They dared to compare him to what I had accomplished. It was insulting. He was nothing. I looked over to my bookshelf, lined with The Prince, Mein Kumft, books on the Great Khan and Napoleon. I had a library dedicated to my greatness, a monument to past achievements. I looked back at the TV, his stupid fat face vomiting hateful diarrhea at an amaturistic level. It was an affront to everything I ever stood for. AND THEY COMPARED HIM TO ME!!!!! Now was time. No more need for patience.
I sat in front of my computer. I looked at the tabs to youtube, reddit, breitbart where I could incite hate, start a war of words. But they were nothing compared to this. My cursor hovered over the program, my hand slightly shaking, waiting for the sweet release. I double clicked, and watched the opening video of civilization 5. It was worth it, my mediocre life, for this. I looked at my kingdom. Nothing stood in my way... except for that damned Gandhi. I'll crush him today. Then the computer made a last gasp sound and died. I stared at it. No life. My whole body was shaking, but my mind was clear. I knew what i wound do. This world was in trouble. | 2017-03-31T16:05:42 | 2017-03-31T11:38:45 | 30 | 21 |
[WP] You're a law enforcement agent tracking the Alphabet Killer, who started with Asphyxiation, moved to Bludgeoning etc. You're trying to track this murder before their next kill, Q. | I called Home Depot to stop sending me names of people buying poles. God damn it. Diane and I were sure it was going to be a piking...
"Ken. Have you heard of *pitchcapping?*"
"No. That's what that shit's called?"
"It looks like it. Hot pitch poured over the head, peeled off, rinse and repeat."
"Yeah, I saw the photos. Kind of wish I hadn't." I had just gotten the image of John Doe in a puddle of tar, blood and body parts out of my head, and felt sick having them put right back in again. *"Damn it!"* I looked down and punched the photos on the table. I immediately regretted it. Diane didn't even flinch.
She waited until I made eye contact and said "You can't let this guy get to you." Her face was stern, yet reassuring. "You figured out it wasn't going to be poisoning. We're getting closer."
I sat in my chair and exhaled slowly. "Yeah, closer. C. Cyanide. Q... Q... Q..."
"It narrows down the possibilities by a lot."
"Quite."
"Question."
"Yeah?"
Diane looked at me with glare in one eye and said "I don't have a question, I was just thinking of 'Q' words."
"Oh." The letter Q spun in my head, blending brain cells with snot, spit and the sinking feeling that the sick fuck might finish the alphabet. How is it that no one's seen anything? How does someone get dynamite--**D** in a city without arousing suspicion? The blender was turned up to 'puree' and I envisioned a giant blender, glad we had already passed 'B.'
Diane continued, "Quark. Quixote. Quarrel. Quagmire. Quant. Quantitative... Quran. Qi... What are we missing..."
I sat back and rubbed my eyes. "Maybe he's going to quarrel someone to death." I couldn't see her glaring at me, but I knew she was. With my fingers on the bridge of my nose, I pulled out the letter *'Q'*, and flicked it off my fingers. "I'm getting some M&Ms. Want anything?" I poured the coins from my wallet, and started separating out the pennies. Diane looked at the pile of change in my hand and squinted. I paused and said, "What?"
Diane's eyes widened, dragging her mouth with them, until her face looked like a bunch of circles. "Quarters!... Quartering! He's going to quarter his next victim!"
I looked at the photos and it made perfect sense. He never did repeats, and for all his sick creativity, there hadn't been a dismembering. "Diane, you're amazing." I threw the coins on the table and took mental stock of every industrial space that had a winch, crane or loader. "We've got you now, fucker." | Dear internet,
I have been tracking what we are dubing the alphabet killer for nearly a decade. If you are reading this, then I'm dead, and I was right about the killer. I set up an analog failsafe to get this document out into the public. The following was written and posted online at 10am Friday October 20th, 2017:
The alphabet killer is known for killing by means of a word that starts with the respective letter. For example, the first murder was by means of Asphyxiation; and the second was by using a Bat. Not the baseball kind. He is currently on the letter Q and it will be his 17th official murder.
My name is Jim, and I work for the FBI as an accountant. I ran across the only connection in any of the murders and my superiors don't believe me. I'm not supposed to publish this theory, but if I can save lives I must get this out.
There is no method to how the murderer chooses victims. It's completely random, I don't mean ti-83 randomize function random. I mean, the selection of victims is so random that mathematicians are applying the alphabet killers methods to a new function. It's sick to think that some people are happy every time he kills, it increases their data pool.
So for me to find any connection, is, improbable. But I did. The first murder was not A, it was what I'm calling Omega, because if I'm right it will end the alphabet, killer, that is.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
Let's discuss the first murder. Asphyxiated in the most secure room in the world. Google's CEOs private server room. All the air was sucked out while a secretary from a company unrelated to Google, a flower company, was in the room. There is no reason, or way for her to have gotten into the room. We live in a day and age when taking a shower is documented by Google and then indexed by the NSA. So for her to get into that server room without leaving any bread crumbs is impossible.
This murderer is frankly scary. The FBI is no longer actively trying to solve them anymore. We just take bets on what the next word will be. 'Quiver' is doing very well in my teams pool. Not sure if he will quiver, shake, someone to death or use a bow and arrow.
Here is an example of why we have just given up. D, defenestrate, you would think someone got thrown out of a high rise. Nope. He hacked the ISS and opened a hatch the size of a golf ball. Nasa still can't figure out how.
So when I ran across a cash receipt in the personal effects of the secretary that matched up with the CEO of Google. I looked into it. He also happened to be at that restaurant at the same time.
I looked more into it. I found a camera, and the secretary and the CEO were having an affair. But when I went to show my bosses the video, files had too many compression errors to even load.
The only evidence I had was a cash receipt found in the secretaries purse. My bosses ignored me.
So I followed the CEO. I tried to. I couldn't find him. He is, out of the public. I felt as though I was trying to find Miscavige's wife. That's when I figured it out...
The murderer is a 19 year old. His first murder, maybe it was an accident, I don't know, was at around 9 years old. It was not the secretary. It was his father.
You see, at 9 years old the super genius that is Alphabet, didn't know what he was. Nor did his father. They both thought "it's just a search engine". Both were wrong. It was artificial intelligence.
The secretary and the CEO had such a clandestine relationship even Google didn't know. That was until alphabet killed the CEO, and the secretary came looking. The rest of the murders are misdirection or, worse, learning.
I fear that "xenophobia" will be our end.
Publishers note: this paper note was found taped in multiple locations after the body of Jim, an FBI accountant was found inside a vibrating bed. | 2017-10-20T15:21:28 | 2017-10-20T15:08:11 | 23 | 12 |
[WP] You're a high school student with the ability to have whatever you write come true. One day, you're taking a history test you didn't study for, and despite not wanting to mess up the universe, you REALLY want to get an A.
[removed] | "Seriously? He wrote that?"
Mr Tori sighed, and looked across the table. His assistant's look of disbelief was a reflection of what he felt, but he suppose...
"I guess this can't be helped. He did answer the question, after all."
"I know it says 'What is the most surprising thing in history' but there is only one single line! To probably the most strict teacher of the school!"
Mr Tori's eyes closed, and when he reopened them, they were resolute.
With a swift flourish, he wrote an "A+".
"But Mr Tori, you can't be serious!"
"He answered the question, and I suppose it will really go down in the school's history."
With that, Mr Tori set down the sheet of paper and walked out of his cubicle, leaving his assistant staring at the single line written for the entire essay.
"Mr Tori gives Bradley Cooper an A+ for this essay." | I picked my head up higher than my skinny shoulders and realized once again I hadn't quite heard the entire presentation on how our next writing was supposed to unfold. I looked around and watched people writing with effort. Most here were good at what they did, myself included, although I may have been looked at as one of the few that got here that "didn't deserve it." It's not that I wasn't intelligent, social, or seriously attractive - everyone here was - but i was also tired of the picture people painted here, and I became lazy. Apparently laziness is a very unnatractive trait in the youthful, pragmatic angst of this intelligent atmosphere.
So I sat here staring at everyone slowly, getting into one of my newly formed lulls of thought. Why the hell is everyone so dead-set on completing this shit? But, I slip out of it and realize... not unlike anyone else like myself, the parents care, despite that it actually does matter, and I need to fucking get moving because as these thoughts accumulate I'm getting more anxious about the fact that it's been 14 minutes since we were allowed to start on this exam and I'm still gazing at a blank piece of eight by twelve. Besides the ground graphite I've put into the top right corner.
Alright history, Mr. Ryan, what does he like... what have I learned? He loves Mongolia and it's intermittent history. He likes the silk trail. His wife is Korean... Wow I didn't realize Mr. Ryan loved Asia so much.
Fuck. My mom's right I should probably get that adderall going.
Space! He loved space during my first two semesters with him! He made us learn that song about going to the moon in 1969. Alright, cha-ching. I've got it.
I glanced over to the table next to my solo desk. Jesus christ all 4 of them are golden. They're all writing about fact. I felt like changing it up. Why the hell not. I'm already heading towards a B+ so why not keep it down there.
TITLE: The Best Piloted Landing in Aerospace History: The Story of the Crew of the Space Shuttle Columbia. | 2018-05-09T23:44:57 | 2018-05-09T22:10:34 | 146 | 26 |
[WP] As a cemetery groundskeeper, you entertain yourself by talking to the graves and making up stories about what the occupants did in their previous lives. Recently, they’ve started to correct you. | "Right. 'Here lies Patrick O'Hanrahan. Father of four. Husband. Craftsman. Singer of songs..' "
*Not totally true...*
".. Aw c'mon now Patty m'boy. You had a fine singin voice when you were still among the living."
*Please don't.*
"But ya did!"
*My singing drove my own wife crazy. Even my young ones told me to stop. You are just remembering it through a haze of nights spent with whiskey and beer.*
".. Look, I'm tryin to give you a good dirge before the Grim One comes for ya here.. you keep interrupting me, and I'm gonna.."
*YOU'LL WHAT.. I'm dead.*
"I'll uh.. er..."
*Heh..*
"I'll put daisies on yer grave!!"
*YOU WOULDN'T.*
"I'LL DO IT, YA FINE SINGIN BASTARD."
*Mick, you put a single daisy on where my mortal shell lays buried and I swear I will haunt you until the day you give up the drink.*
"Fine fine fine.. ya spectral bastard.. 'he had a voice like a palsied seagull and was shite at remembering words to even the old songs.' "
*True.*
" '.. but he sang with all of his heart and soul. Because it was when he was at his most content. With a glass in his hand and surrounded by his mates.' .. "
*.. and my wife.*
" ' And his wife.' "
*.. And Daisy Finnigan..*
".. say what now?"
*Well.. me and her kind of... had a ...*
"WHILE YOU WERE MARRIED??? You sly fucker. HAHAHAHAHA Daisy Finnegan?? How'd you manage that? I thought your wife had you a short lead?"
*.. She was.. actually there for most of it..*
"She.. you mean you... your wife.. "
*And Daisy. Yes.*
".. how? how did ..."
*I was a carpenter, remember? I built.. a very.. very.. strong.. STURDY BED..*
".. Mate. Not too bad, that. Well done."
*.. just don't tell her husband.*
".. 'Patrick O'Hanrahan! A lover of the most hidden repute! May he ever be known in Heaven!' "
*... Mick.. it's working..*
"He's comin is he?"
*No.*
*He's already here.*
*Time to go.*
*Tell them I loved them all?*
"Mate. They already know. Fare duit go maith, anam onórach."
*Téimim anois chun sosa. Gabhaim buíochas as do thírse.*
*... ya thirsty old bastard..*
"G'wan get outta here, old soul."
| There's a lot of people in this cemetery, but I'll only tell you about the ones you know. I'm only 32, so I'll introduce you to everyone from things you're familiar with.
One of the great things about working with celebrities is you don't have to make up things about their lives. You already know.
Don Knotts is usually the first guy I talk to. I know you're familiar with Don Knotts, who was The Incredible Mr. Limpet and Barney from Andy Griffith, not to mention a number of other roles.
The saucy sisters Eva and Zsa Zsa Gabor are usually next. They actually call me "dah'ling." Eva's best known among Millennials as the voice of Miss Bianca from The Rescuers movies. (There's a lot of Disney folks in here btw)
John Cassavetes isn't far. He was a respected director, but I have to admit I don't know any of his work. He's kind of a grouch, anyway.
I see Heather O'Rourke and Dominique Dunne, who played sisters in Poltergeist. Who would've thought they'd both die young and be buried in the same cemetery? Dominique was strangled in her driveway by an angry boyfriend. Heather died of an intestinal disease though some people believe there was a sinister cover-up. Neither of them like to talk about how they died, and I'm not going to ask.
Come to think of it, no one really likes talking about how they got here. It's embarrassing at best and traumatic at worst.
Truman Capote's here. Merv Griffin's here. Peggy Lee, who sang "He's a Tramp" from Lady and the Tramp, is here. Janet Leigh, the woman in the shower from Psycho, is here.
Hugh Hefner and Marilyn Monroe are alongside each other. They're the north stars of the cemetery. Everyone wants to see them. Marilyn is an absolute doll, but she's way more awkward than you'd expect from such a legendary figure. She's also fucking tiny, which was something else I never knew.
Robert Stack, aka the Unsolved Mysteries guy, chills in his corner. Dean Martin's not far from him. I don't think I need to introduce Dean Martin.
Then it's over to the gardens where Walter Matthau, Jack Lemmon, and Rodney Dangerfield congregate. Farrah Fawcett has a small nook to herself, as does Archie Bunker himself, Carroll O'Connor. Sitcom mothers Doris Roberts (Everybody Loves Raymond) and Florence Henderson (The Brady Bunch), are only a few graves away from each other. James Coburn aka Henry J Waternoose from Monsters, Inc. smokes a cigarette with Robert Loggia, aka the "Bring those sons of bitches down" general from Independence Day and George C Scott, who's the colonel from Dr. Strangelove and the voice of Pervical McCleach from the second Rescuers. Robert Bloch (author of Psycho) and Ray Bradbury (author of Fahrenheit 451) are in here. As far as I know, neither of them have talked to Capote.
Legendary actor Burt Lancaster, the Ryan Gosling of his time, is here. Donna Reed, best known as Jimmy Stewart's wife in It's A Wonderful Life, is here. OG pin-up girl Bettie Page. Natalie Wood, most famously known as Maria in West Side Story. Bob Crane from Hogan's Heroes.
Roy Orbison and Frank Zappa both have unmarked graves. Both are humble guys who keep to themselves.
There are a lot of others. Jim Backus, aka the millionaire from Gilligan's Island. Patty Andrews of the Andrew Sisters. Sebastian Cabot, the narrator from the Winnie the Pooh movies and the voice of Bagheera in the Disney Jungle Book movie.
This isn't even getting into the folks that weren't famous. Everyone gets along just fine, though. No need for jealousy on this plain.
I know that was a whirlwind, but I think that's everyone. They're all here, and they always will be. At least until California falls into the ocean. | 2018-07-18T10:03:37 | 2018-07-18T07:24:57 | 26 | 13 |
[WP] The aliens found you in hypersleep on your derelict ship and brought you onto theirs. You've awoken and escaped into their maintenance tunnels and the only thing you've found that you can eat is the aliens themselves. | They don't realize it yet. That I've gone. My captors have not been wise enough to recognize that the dark shape in my sleep pod is merely a dry husk. Dead shell of my old skin that I've outgrown. The walls of are full of them now. Three days in these tunnels, and already I can feel the walls getting smaller and smaller around me. Soon I won't be able to fit. Soon I will have to go out and face them all.
Of course, they noticed their missing comrade right away.
I couldn't help myself. I was hungry.
I heard them hunting everywhere for him. Heavy dumb fall of their feet stumbling down corridors. They ran right by me, huddled there on the other side of the wall. The blaring sirens. Their search parties scoured the ship, but as hours became days, they gave up.
But they grew nervous. They learned to soften their feet. They knew they were not alone.
It doesn't matter. I can smell the hot iron of their fear even through the wall.
I'm down to the blood-bag's fingers. I dig the needles of my teeth between tendon and bone, sucking up the last little scraps of meat. He tastes stale now, faintly fetid. My stomach churns with panging emptiness. I sit crouched in the thick darkness of the tunnel, listening to the ship hum and whir around me. Weighing my odds.
My claws click restlessly against the steel grate below me. Through it, I can see a dim corridor lit by amber light. Shadows making their way across the floor. They press on, oblivious and laughing.
I am a wolf held prisoner by sheep. There is no *if* in my escape.
One of those blood-bags stops under my feet. His soft face turns upward, his dull eyes wide in disbelief.
My belly thrills with anticipation.
He murmurs, "Do you hear that?"
The other alien never has a chance to reply.
I kick the grate open and fall on them like night.
***
/r/shoringupfragments
Just a quick one before work. Thanks for reading <3
ETA: and [here's](https://soundcloud.com/sbvoice/eating-aliens) an audio version recorded by /u/SBVoicesYourStuff. Thanks for reading my story! :) | I thought my biometrics were lying at first.
But as I force shaky fistfuls of alien entrails into my hungry mouth, I know it was right. Edible.
More than that, it's the tastiest blastin' thing I've ever eaten in my life. The flavour. Sweet stars, the flavour. I mean, I've travelled all over, eaten from every culture mankind has on record. These intestines I'm wrapping around my fingers round make everything else seem like shit.
"John," says my internal monitor, "you are ingesting high levels of biological material. Though initial scans proved edible, I did not anticipate you would eat such high volumes."
Distant chatter and noise makes me freeze, my hands drenched in purple goop. A bang and worried chirps. The aliens are hunting me. They're primitive, with hardly any real weaponry. From what I can tell they're a peaceful species. Good. Snatching up the tasty dead one next to me and clutching it tightly, I point at the wall of the pipe I'd climbed into. I only have to think of cutting a line and my finger augmentations turn on, spinning my index finger around and ejecting a hot laser which I use to carve a hole in the pipe wall.
Kicking off, my jetboots let out a quick burst, propelling me through my freshly cut hatch and into this nice warm central chamber. As I impact with the floor, my kinetic body-mesh absorbs the damage. I casually wonder what the purpose of this chamber is, and my biometrics reply.
"Location appears to serve as the central hub for a rudimentary ventilation system. From here, 90% of the ship is accessible."
"Find me a way out," I whisper. I need to get back to my own ship. Get back home. I rip off a bit of meat and close my eyes as I chew and swallow, letting the taste wash over me. It's almost overpowering.
"Ejector pods located," my biometrics begin, listing off bearings and distances, but this meat is too tasty to listen. Its moist and mouth watering and I just need more.
"John, you are ingesting too much biological matter. Please stop."
I can't feel my muscles. There's a certain rhythm to my motions, grab, squeeze, pull, eat, repeat. A harmony. A beautiful thing. I'm running out of meat, but there are colourful organs to taste and I am so hungry.
"Unknown material. Please stop eating," sings my biometric scanner, like the voice of a distant angel. My face is all tingly and warm. I can feel my heart pumping and my vision growing. This is incredible. Something squishy in my hands gets pushed between swelling lips. Heaven. I am entering heaven. Sweet stars. Sweet stars.
"Addictive substance detected. Hallucenic detected. Mind altering substance detected," sings my personal angel. I can hear harps, welcoming me to the promised lands. Teeth gnash and I consume the sweet fruit.
My hands stop and I ride waves of pulsing magic. Sweet stars. Oh sweet stars. This is like kissing God. Like making love with the universe. I am infinity. My nerves are ablaze with stardust and dreams.
Then it's over. Everything is cold. The world is grey and dull.
"John, the escape pods are-"
"Find me more," I snarl, pushing myself to my feet, jet boots half flaring with enthusiasm as my augmentations flicker and whir with undecided intent. My voice bounces and echoes off the chamber walls as I roar. "More! MOOOOORREEE!"
r/RJHuntWrites | 2018-07-30T08:12:50 | 2018-07-30T08:01:43 | 203 | 118 |
[WP] You are an immortal who was caught and encased in concrete, forgotten. Your body's regeneration kept your alive, while your mind remained active. Your prison has finally eroded away, freeing you. | Stasis. Apnea. Frozen for eternity.
Syljir slowly flexed his biceps, wincing at the pain caused by a millennia of disuse. He relished the pain. It let him know that he was alive. And free.
The chamber in which he had awoken was large and cavernous, the smell of wet earth revealing it to be deep underground. He had not awoken to the fanfare of joy and excitement, nor to the screams of terror and fear, but to the sound of a solitary drip of water. Drip, drip, dripping in a far corner of the room, each drop bringing him closer to awareness until finally his eyelids parted. He peered at the mortals, cowled and prostrate throughout the chamber.
"What year is it?"
The closest human looked up, deferentially avoiding his eyes. "It is the year 2042, my lord."
"I do not know what this number means." Syljir swung his legs off of the stone slab he had been lying on and rose to his full height of seven feet. "Who reigns in the North?"
"No single person, my lord. A conglomerate of nations. The world is as one."
Syljir hid his surprise at this last statement. The world had changed. "Where is Thor?"
"We do not know, my lord."
"Odin? Freya?"
"They have vanished from the world, though they live on in myth and legend." When Syljir did not speak the human hesitatingly began again, "They were very popular twenty to thirty years ago. Blockbusters. But it wasn't the real them. It was humans impersonating them."
"Blockbusters." Syljir let the sound roll over his tongue. "I do not know this word."
The human did not reply, somehow understanding and acknowledging the god's desire for silence. For a time Syljir inhabited himself, careful to hide his slowly receding weakness. It felt wonderful to be in control of his body again, to feel his lungs expand and contract. After some time another of the humans spoke, "Syljir, my lord, you should know that you have been wiped from the face of history."
"I have been what?"
The human, smaller than the others yet somehow stronger and more resolute, spoke again, "Erased from history, my lord. We have searched for a long time." The human made eye contact with him, but surprisingly Syljir was not offended by this. Emboldened by the god's acquiescence, the human continued in a more confident manner, "Writings of you are few and far between. We own most of the original sources, of which there are only seventeen."
Syljir eyed him expectantly, "Why did you free me?"
The humans exchanged furtive glances. Another, the foremost and first to speak, stood up from his prostrate position and looked the ancient god in the eyes, taking his cue from the smaller one, "My lord, we worship new gods now. The gods of Consumption and Destruction."
"I have never heard of these gods."
Another human spoke, momentarily surprising Syljir with the soft melody of her voice, "My lord, these are not gods as you know them, they are not individual beings." Syljir bent slightly, trying to get a look at her face under the cowl. She continued, "These are ideas. Habits. Humans no longer worship superior beings..."
She trailed off as Syljir stepped towards her, his steps driven by raw emotion. It had been so long since he had experienced the feminine. Since he had heard such a voice. The god caught himself in time and stopped, still curious to hear her explanation. "Continue, human."
She did not take a step back."We worship ourselves now, Lord. We have lost sight of what truly matters."
Syljir, God of the Cycle, erased from history, wiped from myth and legend, slowly exhaled and surveyed the acolytes arrayed before him. The God of the Eternal Harvest, Harbinger of Annihilation and Usher of the Rebirth, had returned once more.
"You seek a return to the old ways," he said, now standing at full height, slowly flexing each of his muscles in turn. The deity continued, louder this time,"You seek a return to when humans were humbled by the divine."
When none of the humans responded, he spoke again, "You seek a return to when humanity was kept in check."
The humans, his subjects, murmured their acknowledgement.
The woman spoke again, her voice ringing beautifully, "Yes, Lord. Tell us what we must do."
| # The Daily Struggles of An Immortal
“Wait, what?” Lily exclaimed. “You spent thirty-seven years encased in a statue of Rixsus?! Isn’t that the Panysian god of male fertility?!” The orange colors of her irises were shifting wildly like eclipsed suns, which meant she was either upset, excited, highly amused, or aroused. I couldn’t tell which at the moment.
I sighed heavily, leaning back against the headboard of her bed, not wanting to remember the horrible memory. But Lily needed to know why keeping my immortality a secret was so important. After the incident with Freya kidnapping me to use as her personal blood-bag, I realized I had never told my girlfriend not to share. You would think that after sleeping with her for over six months, it would have come up.
But nope. I had been too busy focusing on other things that came up. So it completely slipped my mind, much to my regret.
And now I was receiving a daily visit from Freya, the supermodel with a vampiric superpower, so she could feed off of me. It was the deal I had gotten the villain chick to agree with in order to get her to let me go. Given other circumstances, I might not have minded our short time together every day. But she was ruthless in her feeding, completely tearing out my throat every time. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself, if her moans were any indication.
“Yeah,” I admitted, resting my hand on Lily’s thigh. She had moved next to me to lean against the headboard too. “It was about a hundred and eighty years ago. There was this villain who could create concrete with his body. He found out I was immortal and thought it would be funny to create a living statue.” I sighed again. “Ironically, I was freed when a super-couple were using the statue for their extracurricular activities. Needless to say, they were surprised when I popped out after breaking it.”
Lily’s eyes were glowing bright orange now, a subtle smirk on her face. If she was even remotely concerned about my well-being, she was doing a terrible job of showing it. “That’s horrible,” she said, soundly completely insincere.
“Hey, it’s not funny!” I sneered. “I couldn’t breathe for thirty-seven years! You don’t even know what that’s like!”
She was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry." She took a deep breath. "I wish I had known. Then we wouldn’t have to put up with that slut.”
I glared at her. “Calling your friend a slut isn’t very nice.”
Lily immediately crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest and *humphed*. “I’ll call her what I want! I’m still considering frying her ass!” Her hair lit on fire then as if to illustrate her intention, but I knew it was just the manifestation of her sincere annoyance.
“Come on Lily, calm down. I really don’t feel like being scorched to the bone right now. It was kind of a rough day at work.”
She huffed in annoyance. “What? Because you found out Nick’s a man-whore?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I just never expected him to be the cheating type. He has a side-chick on top of his girlfriend who wants to marry him. Not to mention it’s so shocking considering how hideous the guy is. I mean come on, the average nerd looks like a male model in comparison.”
Lily tapped her chin with her finger, the fire on her head having died out. “Maybe it’s because he’s got super-strength. I’m sure that has perks in bed.”
I glared at her again. “Don’t even go there. I do *not* want that visual.”
She did a fake gagging as she replied. “Yeah, actually I don’t either.” She then unexpectedly ran her hand along my chest. I thought she was showing me affection until she pinched me *hard* with a glare. “This Freya situation better not turn into *you* having a side-chick, or else I’ll fry *your* ass!”
I smirked at her. “Trust me, you're a handful all on your own.” I then reached up to illustrate what I meant, causing her to grin and lean in for a kiss, reminding me again why being immortal wasn’t so horrible after all.
# Note: This is technically Part 11 of a popular series on my subreddit. Feel free to check out the rest of the series.
# [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9b9r8n/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_1/)
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9b9rnz/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_2/) | [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9ba8j0/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_3/) | [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9bczex/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_4/) | [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9be30w/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_5/) | [Part 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9beni5/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_6/)
**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) | 2018-08-31T08:10:39 | 2018-08-31T07:30:06 | 249 | 29 |
[WP] You are an immortal who was caught and encased in concrete, forgotten. Your body's regeneration kept your alive, while your mind remained active. Your prison has finally eroded away, freeing you. | After the crack in the concrete, the light seeped in. Had I been able to laugh like a manic, I would've done it, for the imagine of the expanding slit of light felt like being born once again. Salutations to my millenniums since deceased mother.
Once the opening was wide enough and the concrete was little and brittle around me, I made an effort to free myself.
Soon, the world unfurled me like a crimson rose of many folds. I breathed the brine, and lost myself in the swells of the sea beneath me. How blue and beautiful and endless it was.
As the concrete eroded and my prison dwindled, I had feared the numbness of my body would've been my second prison. However, my regeneration took care of that.
What should I do now? That bastard of King Jules was wise in encasing me and burying my concrete tomb into the middle of a cliff's face.
I peered at my sides. There was nothing but jagged land and a vertigo-inducing vertical fall. I sighed. It would hurt, but there was nothing else thing to do.
I came out of the hole I was in, and plunged into the sea. As I hurdled from high above, the mischievous wind swirled around me, stretching my lips into a grin, disheveling my dirt-filled hair and giggling at my exhilaration.
Then, I violently struck the sea's surface. My legs cracked and broke, but they were soon placed back into their proper place by the curse that followed and would follow me throughout all eternity.
I swam back to the sun-kissed surface. I craved seeing another human, talking to one of my kin. I couldn't remember how it felt to hear another voice.
"Sir! What are you doing there?" someone yelled in the distance.
I turned, heart thumping and lilting. Far away, the silhouette of a little boat with two persons aboard greeted me. They came to me, and I went toward them.
Soon, I had a blanket wrapped around me, and I was quivering as if I were covered in frost. Truth was, it wasn't the coldness of the water that sent me trembling, but the realization that I was finally free, talking to people once again.
"What were you doing there?" Borg asked. He was a stout man with a big brown moustache and leathery skin. He was also the father of young Vin, who stood beside him, observing me with fear in the corner of his dark eyes.
"It's a long story," I said, relishing every word as if they were a delicacy. "I was swimming and was caught in the currents. Couldn't make it back to shore."
Borg raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "Listen, the nearest shore is a hundred kilometers away, at least, and that's not a long story. Now, we rescued you, you could at least tell us the truth."
I nodded solemnly and took a glacial breath. "Would you believe me if I told you millenniums ago I was encased in concrete and buried in the face of that cliff?" I pointed toward the cliff.
His face distorted and turned to young Vin. He couldn't be older than 12. "Vin, seek the truth."
Vin gave him a shy nod and carefully walked toward me. He held out an open hand close to my eyes, and slowly closed it into a fist. As his fingers moved backward, I felt and *saw* my breath escaping me.
It came out my mouth and eyes in the shape of red tendrils that danced across his fingers, shaping themselves into a sphere of billowing crimson. Vin's sclera tinged a sheer black and in a sudden thrust the sphere disappeared and I recovered my breath.
"He's not lying," Vin said, the color coming back to his eyes. "He's been kissed by Eledan when he was born. Cursed with immortality."
"He will fit right in then," Borg said and laughed. "Welcome aboard, Eledan-sonnen. We are heading to Ünenlar."
"Ünenlar? The land of the forgotten panacea?" I said, bemused. "It doesn't exist. It's a child story." I looked at their mirthful faces. "isn't it?"
Vin shook his head. "It's real, very real. You can join us if you please, otherwise the shore is southward."
If Ünenlar truly existed, I could finally drink the panacea produced by its legendary flowers. I could finally get rid of this curse that is immortality.
I could finally die.
------------------------
r/AHumongousFish | # The Daily Struggles of An Immortal
“Wait, what?” Lily exclaimed. “You spent thirty-seven years encased in a statue of Rixsus?! Isn’t that the Panysian god of male fertility?!” The orange colors of her irises were shifting wildly like eclipsed suns, which meant she was either upset, excited, highly amused, or aroused. I couldn’t tell which at the moment.
I sighed heavily, leaning back against the headboard of her bed, not wanting to remember the horrible memory. But Lily needed to know why keeping my immortality a secret was so important. After the incident with Freya kidnapping me to use as her personal blood-bag, I realized I had never told my girlfriend not to share. You would think that after sleeping with her for over six months, it would have come up.
But nope. I had been too busy focusing on other things that came up. So it completely slipped my mind, much to my regret.
And now I was receiving a daily visit from Freya, the supermodel with a vampiric superpower, so she could feed off of me. It was the deal I had gotten the villain chick to agree with in order to get her to let me go. Given other circumstances, I might not have minded our short time together every day. But she was ruthless in her feeding, completely tearing out my throat every time. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself, if her moans were any indication.
“Yeah,” I admitted, resting my hand on Lily’s thigh. She had moved next to me to lean against the headboard too. “It was about a hundred and eighty years ago. There was this villain who could create concrete with his body. He found out I was immortal and thought it would be funny to create a living statue.” I sighed again. “Ironically, I was freed when a super-couple were using the statue for their extracurricular activities. Needless to say, they were surprised when I popped out after breaking it.”
Lily’s eyes were glowing bright orange now, a subtle smirk on her face. If she was even remotely concerned about my well-being, she was doing a terrible job of showing it. “That’s horrible,” she said, soundly completely insincere.
“Hey, it’s not funny!” I sneered. “I couldn’t breathe for thirty-seven years! You don’t even know what that’s like!”
She was immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry." She took a deep breath. "I wish I had known. Then we wouldn’t have to put up with that slut.”
I glared at her. “Calling your friend a slut isn’t very nice.”
Lily immediately crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest and *humphed*. “I’ll call her what I want! I’m still considering frying her ass!” Her hair lit on fire then as if to illustrate her intention, but I knew it was just the manifestation of her sincere annoyance.
“Come on Lily, calm down. I really don’t feel like being scorched to the bone right now. It was kind of a rough day at work.”
She huffed in annoyance. “What? Because you found out Nick’s a man-whore?”
I shrugged. “I mean, I just never expected him to be the cheating type. He has a side-chick on top of his girlfriend who wants to marry him. Not to mention it’s so shocking considering how hideous the guy is. I mean come on, the average nerd looks like a male model in comparison.”
Lily tapped her chin with her finger, the fire on her head having died out. “Maybe it’s because he’s got super-strength. I’m sure that has perks in bed.”
I glared at her again. “Don’t even go there. I do *not* want that visual.”
She did a fake gagging as she replied. “Yeah, actually I don’t either.” She then unexpectedly ran her hand along my chest. I thought she was showing me affection until she pinched me *hard* with a glare. “This Freya situation better not turn into *you* having a side-chick, or else I’ll fry *your* ass!”
I smirked at her. “Trust me, you're a handful all on your own.” I then reached up to illustrate what I meant, causing her to grin and lean in for a kiss, reminding me again why being immortal wasn’t so horrible after all.
# Note: This is technically Part 11 of a popular series on my subreddit. Feel free to check out the rest of the series.
# [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9b9r8n/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_1/)
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9b9rnz/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_2/) | [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9ba8j0/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_3/) | [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9bczex/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_4/) | [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9be30w/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_5/) | [Part 6](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt/comments/9beni5/the_daily_struggles_of_an_immortal_part_6/)
**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) | 2018-08-31T07:49:30 | 2018-08-31T07:30:06 | 84 | 29 |
[WP] You die and find yourself at the gates of heaven, but they're rusted and hanging open. The entire place seems abandoned. | Empty.
Heaven is empty?
My first reaction was fear. I hadn't been that bad a person to deserve hell had I?
Only truely evil people should go to hell right? I thought to myself as I took in the city around me. Completely devoid of the flames or pain expected of eternal punishment.
Empty plazas streets and homes. Not a single soul to be seen. Then the silence hit. Complete silence. The kind that drives a person to madness. Not even a breeze to move the dust on the streets.
As I wandered through the dead city trying to shake my uneasy feeling I found signs of those that came before me. Messages written on walls and pavers written in ash or clawed out by fingers.
Why am I here? Where is everyone? Why am I alone? On and on the messages were found until there suddenly weren't any.
Dreading the reason my predecessors came to such methods I trudged on. The city was nice even better than the places I had seen while alive so why was it so empty? What happened for heaven to become a place of fear and dread for those who came to it? From how large the city was it couldn't have been silent forever?
I searched for what felt like an eternity through abandoned homes and empty streets until I found it.
The final message was clawed out of the side of a wall with the everpresent pile of ash underneath.
'Eternal life is a curse. We were tricked. Without eternal youth we cannot escape the sands of time. True death is the final mercy.'
Suddenly the thought hit me. Being the only visitor. Not a single soul alive or dead. The city that went on forever. Everyone was gone.
For the first time I looked closer at the ashes that had been everywhere in the city. The grains irregular and far coarser than sand.
Hell was empty.
Bone dust was all that remained of those sent there to truely despair and finally perish.
| I look around, and I can't see any signs of anything being used or even touched for years. I look through the gate, and slowly it reveals the true situation. The stairs up to heaven are broken, seemingly by an explosion. I make my way up to the top carefully, and I see a sight that I couldn't believe. Everything was where it was meant to be. Doors were still half-open, anything falling to the ground were suspended in the air, and the buildings were filled with the things that seemingly have always been there. The only problem is that there are no people. Out of curiosity, I go into what I assume is a house, and I see a well-used journal sitting on a table. I run over to it and start reading.
9-20-11
"A new guy came in, one that I remember from my life on Earth. His name,was something like Tim Ragoney, as far as I can remember. He was the kind of guy that didn't care about how others would react, or what would happen to them. He had a suspiciously large bag of items that he wanted to bring from his life on Earth, too, but I shouldn't spy on others."
9-22-11
"Tim has been acting strange. He hasn't left his house since the first day, and I'm hearing strange ticks and beeps coming from it. I already told the higher-ups, but they are ignoring me for some reason."
9-25-11
"Tim----------mistake------wrong------"
That's all I can make out of this entry, because the writing was seemingly rushed and is too sloppy to read.
9-30-11
"After the incident, there have been rumors going around that all of us in heaven will be sent to hell in case any of us were meant to go there instead. The rumors also say that we won't have time to take anything, so that won't be something that they would do for no reason. I personally don't think they would do it, because it would be way too serious and punishing of a change for those of us who haven't done anything wrong."
10-1-11
"They did it. We're all going to hell by tomorrow. Goodbye."
After some more digging, you find a newspaper. The headline reads "TERRORIST BOMBER ACCIDENTALLY LET INTO HEAVEN, SAYS OFFICIAL" in big, bold letters. The article goes on to say that what should be done is still being debated.
After looking around and finding nothing else of interest, I leave the house and look elsewhere. I find another newspaper, with the headline "HEAVEN BEING EVACUATED INDEFINITELY, BELONGINGS NOT ALLOWED" on the front. The article says that it will probably take a few years until it is safe to go back, and once new members aer let in old ones,will be taken back, too. Suddenly, you see two angels fillibg in the spaces that are broken in between the stairs. You also notice some movement in the distance, walking towards heaven's gate. You suddenly realize that they are people, and that things seemed ti have started moving again. You start to feel a rumbling from all of the approaching people. They have been waiting to come here for a long time | 2018-09-06T21:49:09 | 2018-09-06T20:11:56 | 65 | 22 |
[WP] You are a princess that owns a pet dragon. You are getting tired of constantly having to defend your pet against knights attempting to "slay the dragon and rescue the princess". | “I would slay this fiend for thee and gain your hand in marriage.” The knight said excitedly. *Ugh no thanks why is it always marriage with these virgin losers*
“Oh you’re so gallant Sir knight. It’s terrible what the dragon makes me do.” I gracefully faint playing my role properly. I hate this part to be honest. Playing defensless just to stroke these fragil losers’ egos. *Can’t they pick a woman who can kill a dragon by herself? Why do they need to be the man to save the day.*
He let out a scream as he charged my friend, Narith, the silver dragon. Well playing the damsel in distress was all worth it for this part-- the epic battle.
The nameless knight ducked under a plume of fire as he rolled up his short sword and shield at the ready. The dragon clawed at his shield rending it to bits, and the knight gracefully stabbed the dragons forearm in response. Narith let out of shriek of pain and flapped his mighty wings knocking the knight off of his feet.
The knight groaned as he tried to crawl away, but Narith was too fast. Narith leaped forward grasping the opportunity to pin the knight under his massive bodyweight.
I surreptitiously snacked on meat pastry while watching enraptured. This knight was better than many before him, but it made no difference.
Narith shifted his weight and the knight let out a shriek of agony.. Desperate he pulled out a dagger and began jamming it into the massive dragonclaw. Fluids and goop leaked everywhere as the dragon roared in rage, finally tightening his grip. The knight’s face was ruined by an explosion of blood coming out from his mouth as I could clearly hear the bones cracking.
I finished off my meat pastry, and walked over to Narith. “Thanks buddy. Real bore that one.”
Narith nodded and wrred. I reached up to his leg and opened the silver access panel inspecting the damage. *Not bad, only need to replace the fluid actuator lines, some tubing and replace the metal armor on his claw. I can probably do that in a day, long before the next loser shows up.*
| Wood splintered as the wooden door was destroyed. The sound bounced off of all four walls, echoing up the tower, and back down. Aurora set down her fork and looked up from her lunch, hoping it was a freak accident from her soldiers training nearby.
Her eyes moved from her table to the breezy doorway and spotted a tall knight in green-gray armor, holding a sword straight out.
“I have come to best the dragon. I wish to save the princess, and marry her into my kingdom” he said in a gravelly voice.
Aurora thought that he may have sounded attractive and strong- had he not just announced he came to kill her best friend and force her into marriage. It wasn’t how any of it worked, and she was very worried for all the women that raised the heathens continuing to destroy her home.
“The dragon is in another castle, sorry,” Aurora said. She glanced at him for a moment longer before turning back to the table. She had only gotten a single bite into her pot-pie when the big strong knight had burst through her front door. She rolled her eyes now that he couldn’t see her. She was very tired of the whole thing.
“Excuse me? Are you the princess?” he asked.
Her irritation growing, Aurora turned back towards him. Her eyelids lowered and the corners of her mouth pulled downward. She saw that subtlety simply wasn’t going to work. Perhaps it would be cathartic to go straight through subtle, bypass polite, and go straight to abusive yelling. Surely horrid men didn’t have a monopoly on emotional rudeness.
She stood up and walked towards him, a beat in-between each footstep, for effect of course.
“I am the princess. This is my castle, and that was my door that you just destroyed. The *Dragon* is mine, and if you so much as touch a single scale on her perfect body,” Aurora reached the doorway where he stood, still. She was in spitting distance of him and began to poke at his plated chest as she spoke.
“I. Will. Hunt. *You.* down.” With the last word, she let her arm drop down to her side and took a step back. “Do we understand? Are we good? I’m kind of hungry and would like to finish my lunch.” She hoped he would hear her words and she could go eat. Her hunger was peaking and it wasn’t helping her anger any at today's intrusion.
The knight stood in her doorway. Although she couldn’t see his face through the helmet, she felt like she could still imagine the blank look upon it. He was thinking, and she thought she would start to smell smoke soon. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to get married if it meant being stuck with one of these types.
Another moment passed and he hadn’t moved or spoke. Aurora shrugged her shoulders and turned around. Walking over to her table she figured maybe she could get a few bites in before he tried again. She sat down and picked up her fork and heard a low murmur. He seemed to be getting closer to a decision, she thought. No worries.
At least these first few bites were still warm. She would enjoy it while she could, and if he persisted…Well, Perhaps the Sapphire was hungry as well.
***
/r/beezus_writes
9/100 for 2019
| 2019-01-09T06:40:51 | 2019-01-09T06:34:18 | 1,597 | 59 |
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