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[WP] When you were a teenager, you performed a demon summoning ritual that didn't work. Years later, the paperwork got approved in the underworld, and your new guest won't leave until you make a deal. | James used to be really into being an emo satanist, being exactly as cringeworthy as it sounds. Never thinking it would work, he had tried summoning a demon in high school. After none appeared, it was then he started to question his life choices. Now, 30 and married with kids, he was a successful car salesman. James was pretty content with life, until the demon showed up.
Driving home, he planned to relax, his wife having taken the children to visit her parents, when suddenly the demon appeared out of nowhere in the passenger seat. "Sorry about the wait. People often think of Hell as fire and brimstone, but really it's just an extremely frustrating bureaucracy, us demons have to wait years now for paperwork to get through." The demon said. He had no charitestics of a demon, other then the sense he'd gladly screw you over. He merely looked like a high up business man. Fancy suit, glasses, with black hair, green eyes and a smile that reinforced the whole screw you over thing.
James had to pull over quickly. "THE HELL?!" He said, freaked out, wondering why a demon was in his car. Slowly, his mind turned to high school, the ritual. "Look, I don't want you anymore. The summoning was years ago! I changed a lot since then. Please just leave."
"Sorry, I can't leave until you make a deal." The demon said. "Don't worry, I'm just as frustrated, but rules are rules, and the last demon that broke the rules had to spend 1000 years on the phone constantly being put through to people he didn't understand and who kept mistaking what he said. It's as tortuous as it sounds."
"A... a deal? Shit!" James said, unable Because to think of something. "You're not gonna screw me over are you?" He said, worried.
"No no. Except for the whole you're doomed to hell thing." The demon said laughing. At the shocked look on James' face, the demon confessed. "Just joking, or as the human kids kids seem to say, lol jk. Gods actually in charge of Satan and just likes to fuck with people. Few people end up in hell, it's really for the worst of the worst."
"A deal." James said, thinking. "I want all my kids to have meaningful lives, none of that son becomes a drug dealer, daughter a stripper kind of life."
"Alright then, goodbye. Have fun with your life. Oh, and make sure your kids don't summon any demons. Don't want anyone to have to deal with the paperwork." The demon said, leaving. James wondered what now. Was this the last he'd see of the demon, or would he see him again?
Edit: Never going to be continued. Sorry jf you wanted it, but I don't think I'll be co ing back to this subreddit. | **KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**
Janice dropped the plate she was washing. It fell to the floor with a *clack*, sending water and soap bubbles all over the kitchen.
"Oh, sh---"
**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**
The force of each knock shook her tiny apartment, nearly enough to put her off balance. The young woman grabbed a chair as she mentally catalogued whom she owed money this time.
'*Grey, Rommel, Fox, Samantha, Brian...hmm, I owe Rommel about two hundred, but that isn't enough for him to attempt to break down my door, is it?'* she asked herself when she finally reached the door.
She started to open it.
"Brian, if this is about the money, I promise I'll pay you back next..."
In front of her was a...creature...thing...monster...staring down at her. It had eight limbs, four that it used for walking, and the other four attached to a massive torso covered in thick metal plates. Each held a wicked looking weapon so bizarre and alien in their appearance that, had Janice been paying attention, would have noted to be covered in glowing, demonic runes. It she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed that her surroundings have become unbearably hot, and that her clothes were starting to smoke from the heat.
And then there were its eyes. Dark green orbs, burning with anger and fire, seemingly staring into her very soul.
The creature opened its maw, filled with a thousand sharp fangs, and out came a deep rumbling sound.
**"Greeting, Janice of New Jersey, I am--"**
**"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"**
--
To be continued. | 2017-03-26T03:36:25 | 2017-03-26T01:38:47 | 23 | 13 |
[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". | Fire and Whispers
​
*‘Not again.’*
I dropped the basket of apples I had gathered and dashed back towards my tower. I furrowed my brow and reached out with my mind.
*‘Sidian, I’m coming*,’ I told my dragon.
*‘Hurry M’lady*. *These ones are strong*,’ Sidian thought back.
Normally the adventurers that came to face ‘The Great Beast’ were fledgling fools, gullible enough to believe my summer home was a ‘prison’ and that my pet was my ‘captor.’ Sidian rarely had trouble disarming and scaring them away, but this group was different.
I drew on my inner reserve of magic. “Haste,” I whispered. Wind whipped at my face, and my hair flailed like a cat-o-nine-tails as my speed tripled.
I sprinted out of the orchard and raced through the gardens in my back yard, leaping over hedges and dashing right through the fountain, b-lining towards the back of my tower.
Sidian’s mind reached out and touched mine. *‘I have been bested. I'm sorry M'lady. It has been an honor*.’ I didn’t take the time to respond.
Going around the tower would take too long. I drew on my magic again, and as I raced towards the back door, I extended my arms, throwing an explosive bolt of magical energy at the barrier. The wooden door erupted into pieces, and I closed my eyes briefly as I dashed through the cloud of splinters, and then raced through the main hall, sending the same spell towards the front door.
I exploded out the entrance to see my black dragon companion standing weakly, his head held low, wings torn. I couldn’t see the adventurers, but knew they were in front of him. I drew the two daggers I kept crossed at the small of my back as I raced towards Sidian, and upon coming up behind him, I leaned backwards and dropped to slide beneath him. As I came out from beneath his massive torso, I saw a great-sword wielding warrior poised to slice my dragon’s head off. As I sprang up in front of Sidian, I saw the warrior's face contort with confusion, but he was already bringing the sword down. I raised my daggers and crossed them, catching his blade between mine. My knees almost buckled from the impact, and had the warrior been striking at full force I might have fallen.
As it was, I managed to stop the blade an inch from my forehead. I sighed with relief, and felt the same from Sidian. His mind brushed mine. *‘Thank you*.’
After the relief came rage. The warrior before me was still bewildered, and stood dumbly. I pushed his blade away, raised my leg and kicked him in the stomach, sending him reeling backwards. Beyond the warrior, a bowman and a magic caster stood at the ready, confused and apprehensive. “What is the meaning of this!?” I demanded, seething.
But I knew it wasn’t their fault. Everyone that came to face my dragon was sent by the same being, a hooded man who spoke in whispers. I didn’t know why he wanted my dragon dead, nor did I know why he lied about me being captured.
Most of the hapless try-hards that came to ‘save’ me were useless, too trusting of their patron to have noticed anything suspicious, but these three seemed capable.
Perhaps they would have some answers.
​
r/TheCornerStories for more stories!
EDIT: Wooot! Thanks for the gold! | Thank heavens Shadow had impenetrable skin.
Why are knights so pesky? Is it that it intimidates them that a woman has a keep, filled with only women and children not of age, and no man?
Is it a fear of dragons? My poor Shadow wouldn't hurt a fly, except for the occasional sheep willingly given to her, or another pesky Knight who tried to stab her in her sleep. Emphasis on tried.
Or is it that the bards still talk of the time where these Dundee-headed knights would slay dragons, and the Princess would forever be grateful, and they would get a keep and a wench to screw? Did the idea that I had tamed the dragon not penetrate their thick helms?
I've tried everything. I tried sending messengers to every kingdom and castle and keep. I tried placing large planks with the message "dragon is tame, go in peace".
Perhaps they are tempted by a woman rules a keep? Could they not entertain the thought that like them, I too, prefer the curves of women.......
So let them try and burn, I decided. Shadow couldn't be harmed, and she wouldn't attack unless ordered by me or provoked. But that only doubled the number of knights. More and more knights tried to conquer Shadow, and in essence, me.
But that all changed yesterday.
Llysfaen, one of the most famed seamstresses and tanners of the land, visited my court. It is no secret that I, the Queen of Llanfairfechan, was promiscuous amongst women, and, well, she had often found herself beside me in.... Irrelevant.
Yesterday, she presented an idea. Shadow was beloved to everyone in the keep, and she found a way to discourage knights from trying to kill her.
When I saw it, I couldn't believe it.
This would strike fear into the hearts of all those foolish knights.
Rumors spread throughout the land. Finally, those knights stopped.
Then they sent an army with a Duke.
But we were prepared.
Out came shadow, clad in iron and chain mail, spewing fire and demolishing the army. And atop her, rode I.
I, Lilith, Queen of Llanfairfechan. Clad in full armor. My beloved pet Shadow, turned into my mount.
A force of Fire and Metal.
And then, that look of fear in every soldier, in every knight, told me that long after me, bards would still sing tales of my glory and my fury. | 2019-01-09T06:48:27 | 2019-01-09T06:35:55 | 1,257 | 37 |
[WP] When your best friend told told you that they're a werewolf and invited you over the next full moon you expected many things. You expected a dangerous, even a violent, night and that you may not survive that night, but you couldn't possibly have expected what actually happened. | "Hey, Steve?"
"Yeah, Henry?"
"You and your, uh, pack are werewolves, right?"
"Yup."
"So that means you guys are, like, supernatural hunters of the night."
"Oh yeah. Super deadly when we get serious."
"And these meetings of yours happen every full moon?"
"Like clockwork. They're great to just wolf out and cut loose, you know?"
"Yes, I can see that. I swear the place looks like a furry convention."
"Hey!"
"Oh, don't pretend it doesn't. The only difference is that everyone's a wolf and the suits are obviously real instead of costumes. But that's not the point."
"Then what is?"
"Is this how your meetings usually go?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well then, why don't you explain to me why a pack of vicious, savage murder monsters are getting together to eat burgers and play board games."
"What, you don't like barbecue and games?"
"Oh no, I like both of those things. Especially since you're playing actual games instead of that Milton Bradley junk."
"We tried Monopoly last year. It didn't go well."
"I bet. Anyway, just why? Why do things like this instead of doing werewolf stuff?"
"Werewolf stuff, really?"
"You know what I mean. Like, hunting things and stuff."
"Why would we do that when we can get a month's worth of meat at the supermarket?"
"I don't know. It's just kind of a let down, is all. I mean, this is all stuff you can do any time. Why bother doing it now?"
"Honestly? The food."
"Huh?"
"When you're a human, you gotta watch what you eat, and you can only eat so much. But in wolf form? You can eat all the burgers and ribs you want without gaining a pound. Plus, with the enhanced senses, it all tastes so much better. And we figured that if we were going to get together and pig out, we might as well do something fun while we're at it, so we play games."
"All the food you want, huh?"
"Oh yeah. I can put away ten, fifteen pounds of the best BBQ ever, easy. And since we're carnivores in this form, it's actually good for us. We might as well be eating salads all night."
"Okay, one more question."
"What's up?"
"What do I need to do to become a werewolf?" | Chase told me he was ferocious, the absolute peak of canine evolution. All of the good bits, but none of the drawbacks.
As the moon emerged from behind the cloud, Chase warned me to stay back.
He pleaded with me to kill him at the first sign I became unsafe.
He looked into my eyes and I knew that my friend was gone, it was the start of the beast, it was the start of the change.
I ran out of the room and slammed the door, probably a little too hard- it swung weakly open. I heard him thud to the floor, and I moved towards the stairs.
I was running for my life, but I couldn’t hear him behind me. Perhaps werewolves are stealthy like cats.
I tripped over something and fell the last few steps. I half turned as I crashed into the hallway floor, seeing a shape lunge for me.
I screamed “Chase no” hoping that some semblance of my former friend remained.
The impact didn’t hurt as much as I thought.
He was a were-chihuahua | 2022-09-30T11:21:29 | 2022-09-30T10:32:08 | 176 | 57 |
[WP] You are an average Joe who is challenged by a random super hero every week. Your record is 337-0. | "and done" I mumbled and hit the enter key sending a Craigslist advertising that I was looking for new friends.
Sure most of the guys answering my request would be total jerks or loosers, but that really didn't bother me to much. In the end they would not be my friends for long.
It all started a few years ago, my son was 1 and the wife threw a temper tantrum that I had forgotten to get diapers that day.
So I got in the car once I finished work and drove up to my local Walmart to get some and hopefully not spend the night on the couch.
Anyways the parking lot was full and I was desperate, so instead of waiting for a lot to clear, I just parked my car in front of another one. What could go wrong? Am I right? I'd be in and out before the poor fellow I'd parked in would even know, right?
Oh boy...
The dude I blocked was no one else but Rage-Man, strongest hero in the world and, you might have guessed, not a man know for his patience.
He got out before me and when he saw what I did, he threw my car 6 yards further and left a message that he would kill me.
Overreacting much, you say?
See the thing is we got quite a few superheroes, but because of the same reason we have zero supervillains and even petty crime is on an all-time low as everyone has to face a bored hero looking for a way to make it in the news.
Anyhow, I shit my pants of course and hid in the house for 3 full days, but nothing happened.
Than I got a call from one of my friends, Rage-Man did just visit him, he did rip my friends heart out and made him tell me that he was after me.
Well it turned out, a simple Google search, revealed Rage-Man's weakspot, ordinary coal, I brought a peace along and once I displayed it to him, he lost his power and I beat him to death with a crowbar from my car.
Of course all wannabe heroes out there declared me their new supervillain. And so the cycle began.
This was also the moment I realized that there is a protocol every hero has to follow. They have to get my henchmen first and since I don't have any henchmen they just go after my friends.
At the same time every hero has to have a a weakness and being the vain cocks they are, you can learn all about them by a short visit on Wikipedia.
So all I had to do was sacrifice my friends and colleagues and as soon as they announced to me who they were Google their weaknesses and bring a gun with me.
You won't believe it, but that really worked 337 times so far, the only problem is that I run out of potential friends. I'm already a member of every club in town and regular in every bar. So instead I went online, so yeah, need a friend? 😂😉" | The first time it happened I was working in the neighbor's garden. Mrs. Lewis, the pretty one. The one who always called me and my friends "sweetie" or "honey" and paid us too much when we did odd jobs for her.
I was about fifteen years old at the time, just trying to make a buck. I was watering her flowers I heard a scream and a crash from the house. I opened the door and froze. There was Mrs. Lewis on the floor. A thick liquid stained the snow-white dark red. A strange, mudlike being loomed in the living room, his misshapen head grazing ceiling. He spoke with a voice so deep and gravelly he could hardly be understood.
"There you are. I have been looking for you."
I would have remained paralyzed with fear, except that I suddenly realized my feet were soaking wet. In my haste, I had dragged the garden hose with me. Without waiting to hear what else it had to say, I pointed the hose at the creature and sprayed.
The mud dissolved into a watery mess, and that was my first victory. It's been over six years now, and every Saturday without fail a strange, powerful being has attacked me, and somehow I always have exactly what I need to defeat it. Whether it was time I was attacked in the hospital while recovering from a car crash or when my eighteenth birthday fell on a Saturday and I was at Mrs. Lewis' house, a strange mixture of luck and good timing have kept me alive. Today being a Saturday, I don't know what to expect other than the unexpected. Wish me luck. | 2016-11-19T15:46:20 | 2016-11-19T15:07:16 | 72 | 26 |
[WP] Turns out, when a species reaches the stars, their ships resemble the characteristics of that species’ origins. Most other species have ultra fast, hard hitting spaceships, and a few are slow behemoths. But everyone is scared of the relentless, unstoppable humans. | The first contact was warm and full of smiles from whatever mouth or hole outsiders possessed. Shortly after they could talk with us.
"Welcome to the World, children."
"How does it feel to know how small you are?"
"Cannot wait to visit your small kingdom."
Those were the things we heard. At first, we felt a bit disturbed, but we quickly shrugged it off as mistranslation. Oh if we knew how long were these "friends" spying on us. They knew full well how we consider ourselves civilized, wise and reserved.
First came diplomatic missions. Outsiders arrived in ships big or small. Fast or slow. Fragile or sturdy. But always reminiscent of its creators. We started to see patterns. However for some reason on every meeting, every summit and every mission, those shallow vomits of the galaxy, some people still call "aliens", had a simple yet insulting question!
"Why do you have ship so big, when you sooo small?!"
"Why does your ship fly so slow when your kind run fast?!"
"Why do you have so many feeble guns when one can do it all!?"
It was idiotic question after question. But we still kept our status of reserved and "wise" species. Oh, how naive was my kind a hundred years ago.
After diplomacy came the trade. They offered us "luxury" products of their worlds. Mere trinkets for children we now know. They were generous yet persistent in establishing connections with our worlds. On the opposite of the table we accepted with open hands, not knowing we invited wolf to our citadel.
When they bought our merchants, they tried to buy our governors. However Outsiders met with iron will of our people. They did not yield to threats or bargains. They held every planet with adamantine grip. They knew this would be our undoing.Our friends from the Outside were however not pleased. When met with denial, they took with their inferior fleets our unprepared vessels. They burned, they killed and they ransacked! World after world fell. Yet we stood.
Fifty solar years later they reached our home system. Our sanctury. Our last citadel. Demands were clear from all sides of the Outside world. Surrender or perish. Little did they knew that we prepared for all those years.
When the first outsider's ship approached Luna's stations, it was greeted with a salvo they had seen before. Outsiders new our ships of the old well. They sent one of their more heavily armoured blasphemous ships to "scout" our sacred Luna. Those foolish abominations took it like served on a golden plate.
I can still remember how my father told me the story. He saw how our shells dug deep, but not deep enough to penetrate that proud hull of theirs. They thought they knew our ammo. And then my father has seen the most beautiful thing in his life.
From Luna's surface could be seen cyan flash as burrowed shells reignited and with new terrifying speed dug deeper. In a flash, every single shell was burrowed far beyond the reinforced hull like a maggot hungry for meat. After no more lights could be observed, the abominable ship exploded with blinding shine every man knew. Thermonuclear reaction. There were no more reasons to hold back. No more reason to be "humane". Those are not humans! Those are Outsiders!
But our uprising was not without attention. Their fleet arrived solar weeks later, my father said. Like a pack of bloodthirsty beasts, they came to feed on us, But they came into the lion's maw!
For every ship, every strategy and every weapon we had a solution. Our own weapons, no longer held back by laws or conventions. Our own strategies are tailored to every single blasphemous "alien" they sent.
For every feeble attempt to counter our various strategies, we stroke harder than before. Like a hammer, we crushed every single vessel no matter the size. For humans are not civilised, wise nor reserved. Those are things taught to us.
No.
Humans are savage.
Humans are aggressive.
And most importantly humans will always adapt to whatever beasts galaxy spits at them.
Thus my pupils began our Golden age. I hope you all listened to the lesson, we will be having an exam next week. And remember theorem of the day: Outsiders intention, is no matter what, always the bad intention. | The head of an intergalactic space force turned his head in a way resembling nod of an apex predator rather than a civilized being. Turns out this ship is owned by Trigators, tall lizards with prolonged craniums and evil grin always sticked to their faces as a reminder of their ancient past. Their territorial enemies were gone now, but the face designed to kill remains and so does a feral grin of their space ship our hero Swan got himself on board of. Unlike the Gators, Swan was of a shorter statue with lean limbs resembling those of an Elvish royalty, but unlike them his eyes were more of a circle than a line and his ears were silly far from his head, leading your attention to a dark hair unlike anything space commanders are used to with space wandering mammals keeping their scalp either their natural blonde of higher classes or attempting to blend in with a permanent dye.
Gator's eyes widened as the humans monotone gait got swifter while he was approaching the last few meters to close off their distance into an intimate closeness unlike anything this race finds comfortable. Despite being a guest, his hand extended as he offered captain his hand in a friendly gesture. "Swan, nice to meet you." Gator's body fixed in a flex-like position mirrored his gesture with an unchanged facial expression as he introduced himself to an elite commander of Human Joined Forces. "Nexx!" Despite being short, the introduction revealed much of his diet as Swan's nose was filled with a smell of sweet-water fish and a foreign spice.
"I've heard you wanted to see me in person. I don't possess a knowledge of any alliance law we might have broken by our entrance. Is there anything else I should be worried about?" Nexxe's shoulders broadened up in a majestic gestures bringing out a full chest adorned with medals not common in this territorial league.
"It's the way you behave. The weapons. Not all of us will tolerate a foreigner and not all of us are scared to fight. You were let in with a faith of peaceful passing, but your actions on b-35 were noted and watched with a great concern. Your ship is armed with high-tech weapons unlike anything I've ever seen. I know your planet was being torn apart by war for many millennia, but unlike you, most of us are a peaceful breed. The looks can be deceiving.. Mr. Swan. Unlike humans, every other species develops a natural sense of peace before they enter a technological era, but yours is clearly different. Isn't it? Look through the window and tell me, what you see. It's flowers, trees, water, skies. Every ship parking in the dock is adorned with the things they value the most. Their shapes are twisted into intricate patterns revealing their very own sense of beauty they want to be known for. Now look at your left. Your poo shaped ship with a phallic gun sticking at each side is a thorn to our eyes. Its shape reveals nothing more than greed and soulless efficiency matched only by creations of the darkest corners of Universe inhabited by beasts of war. Now tell me... Mr. Swan, are you a beast?" | 2021-10-12T12:46:26 | 2021-10-12T10:48:37 | 32 | 22 |
[WP] Humanity had put off dimensional travel for fear of running into 'cosmic horrors'. A long overdue visit to an alternate dimension revealed we were the cosmic horrors. | TW: Hitler joke
"So, *we're* the cosmic horrors."
"Yyyyyep."
"Then what do the interdimensional beings look like?"
"Uh, this." Commander Johnston held up a piece of paper containing what appeared to be a drawing of a shiny-eyed cartoon bunny rabbit.
"You're pulling my leg," said Dr. Savage.
"Sadly, I am not," said Johnston. "This is a photograph of a being in the nearest dimension to ours."
"Jesus Christ," said Dr. Savage. "Are they all this cute?"
"The whole *dimension* is cute," said Johnston. "They don't need a food industry because the ground is made of cotton candy and bottles of lemonade grow on trees."
"And they look like cartoons."
"*Preschool* cartoons."
"God. Damn."
"Mistew Johnston?" a tiny little voice piped up from near the two men's feet. "I had a nightmawe. Can you wead me anothew bedtime stowwy so I can get back to sweep?"
"All right, Johnston," Dr. Savage said between gritted teeth. "What the hell is this?"
"This is Bouncy!" said Commander Johnston, his whole face lighting up as he picked up the pink cartoon bunny in his hairy hands. "He came from the *sweetest* little townhouse on Rainbow Boulevard..."
"Forget the rainbows! You're not supposed to take interdimensional beings *back with you!"*
"But he followed me home," said Johnston, his lower lip wibbling in a way that was unsettling on a six-foot-four military captain.
"I'm da intewdimensionaw ambassadow!" said Bouncy with a bright smile. "I'm a BIG fan of howwow stowwies, so I knew I *had* to come to the absowutewy tewwifying univewse that the gweat authow Hug Plush LoveCuddles wote abowt in 'Caww of Hitwer.'"
"Hold it right there," said Dr. Savage. "Hitler isn't someone to joke about like that. He was a terrible man who destroyed the lives of millions."
"Oh, I agwee! Absowutewy nightmawish!" Bouncy nodded. "And such a fing would nevew happen in my wowld! But hewe, it's all WEAL! I can't wait to see what othew tewwows awe in stowe fow me!"
"He's a cute little rascal, inn't he?" asked Johnston, tickling bouncy under his furry chin. "Hard to believe he's 85 years old."
"Well, Commander," said Dr. Savage, "I think he's absolutely insufferable."
"Can it, muthew-fuckew. It's not wike I don't speak Engwish."
***For more weirdness, visit my subreddit at*** r/OctOpusTales | So it turns out Lovecraft wasn't all that crazy when it came to his depictions of inter-dimensional horrors. He had the mind bending, reality warping nightmare fuel aspect down to a "t" , but he attributed cosmic conquering and annihilation to what he saw just because it was scary to see. Whoever got sent over back then warped the fabric of reality in a way that only poor H. P. could perceive and it must have warped parts of his mind as well. He lacked the context that we have now.
D'you know that photo of the blobfish that was thrown around the net back in the day? That. When you have no concept of what you are in the fifth dimension and then try to snap back into the third, you get a little... Warped. The abject terror of being All and then willing yourself back to familiarity... It uh... It doesn't play well with reforming your corporeal form.
The bright side is you get to retain a sliver of what you learned in the fifth, so you can play around in the fourth like a river. The bad side is that you have to because when you snap back into the third, you reformed in some distant, inhabited planets sky and killed the half that saw you.
"The goal was to travel huge distances in our universe and maybe see what life could be found in the other dimensions, maybe set up relations with those that we could establish communication with. Based on the effect I've had on that planet and the fact that I'm still working through what IDT has done to me, I don't think the locals are having it..." | 2021-04-09T06:44:56 | 2021-04-09T00:11:26 | 33 | 20 |
[WP] An alien race conquers worlds by starting a zombie apocalypse and later coming down and offering "salvation" in exchange for subjection, so far this has never failed, until they reach Earth and find humanity has already defeated the zombies and is waiting for them... | “The humans are surviving as predicted.” Valree announced. “There is however a bit more infighting than expected.”
“Not unheard of.” Hatun shrugged. “Remember the Teros people? Now that was infighting.”
“Regardless I think it’s about time we ‘rescued’ our new servants.” All around him Valree saw nothing but affirmations as everyone’s neck crests expanded quickly in a show of support. Despite this being a crucial part of the operation, everyone simply looked bored. It had become so routine.
“Missiles loaded, lasers charged and the speaker will go live soon.” The pilot announced, their name escaping Valree for the moment.
“Bring it in low.” He told them. “I want the humans to hear us before they can see us, let the anticipation and mystery build.”
“Yes sir.”
Moments later and the undead hordes had been destroyed leaving behind a ramshackle fortress surrounded by spikes, craters and corpses. Emerging from the stronghold were three men, all holding primitive projectile weapons, one of which even using string to launch their payloads. Judging from their faces and what I remembered from the pamphlets I read, they were wary.
Despite the weapons they held, I held no fear in my heart. Even if they unloaded everything they had at me, my personal forcefield would hold.
“Rejoice humans!” I announced, pulling savior speech #38 from my mind. “For we have come to destroy your enemies.”
“Oh.” One of them said, my translator changing their speech into something with a Morsotian accent. “Thanks I guess.”
“There is no need to be so reserved, my people upon seeing your plight have decided to save you.”
“Uhh, nah it’s okay, we got it from here.”
I faltered, the script said nothing about this. Over confidence perhaps? Pride? None of these things were shown on the human’s faces but then again, it was hard to tell coming from a species that had no crest.
“You do not wish to be saved?”
“I mean, I guess but like I said, we got it from here.”
“You… got it from here.”
“To be honest I kinda wish you hadn’t blown them all up, the boys and I were having lots of fun.”
“Fun.”
“Yeah, I mean, zombies everywhere with guns, what more could you want?” His jaw split open revealing rows upon rows of yellowed gnashers. Not exactly what I’d call intimidating but certainly disturbing enough that I almost forgot that this was supposed to be a sign of happiness.
Well, if they were happy then at least I was making progress?
“You consider all this destruction, all this death, fun?”
“Hell yeah!” He cried out before discharging his weapon into the air. “USA! USA! USA!”
Valree decided that this small group of humans were insane and decided to move onto the next group. Perhaps they would yield more sense. | “Well, that was easy.”
A mere three months after the zombie outbreak, all had been contained. Casualties were massive and felt everywhere, but in the end it only resulted in about 15% of the human population destroyed.
The one thing that it left the humans with was the only thing the aliens were afraid of, knowledge. The sickness had been reverse engineered, leading to huge breakthroughs in genetics, and most importantly the widespread use of biohacking. There wasn’t a child born anymore that didn’t have tear-resistant skin, or immunity to all disease. There were side effects sure, but having bulletproof skin was worth it, even if it was slightly blue. Being able to shock someone with your skin by using the electrical gradient already existing in your cells was worth a little chip implanted into your brain.
The invaders returned five years later to the remnants of humanity, still hated and remembered for taking a loved one from almost everyone on earth. The sleek ship descended from the heavens to land at the designated spot, with a battalion of the most heavily modified soldiers waiting for them. The ship touched down, and the doors opened. The aliens walked out, but they looked human. Except for their blue skin, and the scars where the chip had been implanted in their brain. The zombies weren’t the infection, it was what man did with them that was. With a few high placed government officials that survived the outbreak the aliens had already taken over. Humanity was no longer human. A deep hum began to emanate from the ship, and slowly each soldier dropped their weapon and mindlessly walked toward their new masters. | 2019-08-08T11:20:05 | 2019-08-08T10:22:09 | 26 | 17 |
[WP] Suddenly, the world's entire human population is replaced by each individual's spirit animal. | It all happened 6 months ago. I remember waking up to find myself destroying the floor beneath me. I tried to scream, but the voice that came out was more of an elephant noise. After realizing the raised trunk and the giant white tusks I started to understand what happened. I had transformed into my spirit animal mid-sleep. I didn’t “understand” what the fuck was happening, but I did understand in the sense that I could realize my newly formed body. My first thought was that I was either high or dreaming. A hard crash into the ground later though and I realized, with the scrutinizing pain of my broken leg, that this was no dream. This was real. How it came to be remains a mystery. It was not just me however. I looked around only to find hundreds of destroyed buildings and animals of all shapes and sizes surrounding me.
The moments of panic started to fade away as the people, or beings, were starting to realize what just happened. What followed was as anyone would expect in these moments. Some screamed, some sat in shock and confusion, some unfortunately died of heart attacks or from the fall depending on their luck. It was total chaos. Amidst it all however, you could see the few that had survived the incident. I assume it is because they had no spirit animal, or maybe they viewed the human race as their spirit animal. We will never know. What we do know is that they are the only humans left. They’re split into different groups, those who are helping the rest find shelter and repair their wounds, those who have secluded themselves and live in denial of it all, and those who took advantage of the situation. They realized the vacancies in positions of power. Claimed them for themselves.
It is now 6 months since the incident. The world is on the brisk of total war. Two of the remaining humans, the divergent as we call them, had a disagreement. They each built their own army, surrounded by human servants and animal slaves. I have, by some miracle of god, been able to escape. One of the divergents, Noah, had attempted to save as much animals as he could. He took us all on a ship to an island where we were presumably safe. At least until now. | It's been 3 years since the world transformed, it was truly a tragedy. Lots of suicides because they couldn't accept the fact that they were sloths, koalas or even parasytes, but the world is still the same CEO's being the apex predators, the working class being the herbivores they prey on even the schools are the same , a group of vicious hyenas preying on those who can t fight back. Relationships are a lot easier nowdays because you can't procreate with other species but there are some crazy animals that still try because of the taboo air about it, i guess it's human nature. It doesn't matter in what shell we are humans are humans in the end.
First story ever, feel free to criticise it and give advice, feel free to correct my grammar aswell since english is not my first language.
Sorry for the formatting aswell since I'm on mobile. | 2018-12-15T04:27:07 | 2018-12-15T04:21:21 | 44 | 23 |
[WP] “I am Lucifer, The Morning Star, The Firstborn, The Second Light, The Prince of Lies, The Adversary, The Dragon, The Serpent, Lord Of Evil, The First of The Fallen and I came here for one thing and one thing only” As he said this he summoned forth a Switch. “I came here to Brawl” | The devil went down to Georgia
He was lookin' for a soul to steal
He was in a bind
'Cause he was way behind
And he was willin' to make a deal
When he came upon this young man
Thumbin' a Switch and playin' it hot
And the devil jumped
Up on a hickory stump
And said, "boy, let me tell you what
I guess you didn't know it
But I'm a Smash Bros player too
And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you
Now you play a pretty good Kirby, boy
But give the devil his due
I'll bet a Switch of gold
Against your soul
'Cause I think I'm better than you"
The boy said, "my name's Johnny
And it might be a sin
But I'll take your bet
And you're gonna regret
'Cause I'm the best there's ever been"
Johnny, loosen up your thumbs and charge that F-smash hard
'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia, and the devil deals the cards
And if you win, you get this shiny console made of gold
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul
The devil picked the stage
And he said, "I'll start this show"
And fire flew from his fingertips
As he comboed to and fro
Then he grabbed and dodged, got Final Smash
And it made an evil hiss
Then a band of demons joined in
And it looked a little like this
When the devil finished
Johnny said, "well, you're pretty good, old son
But sit down in that chair right there
And let me show you how it's done"
He played up smash, down smash, special, shield,
The devil's feelin' stressed but he will not yield,
Percent is rackin' up, devil has some strife,
1, 2 ,3 and he lost his last life
The devil bowed his head
Because he knew that he'd been beat
And he laid that golden console
On the ground at Johnny's feet
Johnny said, "Devil, just come on back
If you ever want to try again
I done told you once you son of a glitch
I'm the best that's ever been"
He played up smash, down smash, special, shield,
The devil's feelin' stressed but he will not yield,
Percent is rackin' up, devil has some strife,
1, 2 ,3 and he lost his last life... | *I kneel down onto the dirt, slicing my hand ever so slightly with the silver knife.*
"Great Lord of the Dark, I bring to you but a simple request..."
*I let blood drip into the ceramic bowl at the center of the red spray-painted pentagram. The symbol surrounding me begins to glow red.*
"I wish to test my worthiness against thee through but a simple contest..."
*I lay the Switch on the ground in front of me as the land begins to heat up. Clouds from nowhere shoot forth lightning that cracks above my head, the thunder resounding through every bone.*
"If thy presence shall be granted, I only hope that thee accepts my challenge..."
*The air crackles as a billion volts strike the ground before where I am kneeling. I bow my head.*
"O' Great Lord..."
*He speaks.*
“I am Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Firstborn," *He stops, taking in his surroundings. The forest must have been unexpected.*
"The Second Light, the Prince of Lies, the Adversary, the Dragon, The Serpent, Lord Of Evil!" *He smiles down at me, offering me a hand to help me up. I accept.*
"I am the First of the Fallen and I came here for one thing and one thing only..."
*In a flash of bright orange flame, He summons forth a Switch.*
“...I came here to Brawl." | 2020-02-22T18:52:00 | 2020-02-22T18:00:54 | 46 | 18 |
[WP] You're a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her. | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/813gcd/wp_youre_a_powerful_dragon_that_lived_next_to_a/dv0g9gh/) l [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRobertFall/comments/815k0n/the_tales_of_a_moon_rider_part_3/)
Those awful screams of woe and misery, of death and distress admixing with the stench of smoke and blood, had tormented my slumber for far too long. They'd bounded me to witness the wreckage of Velosin, a little kingdom down the mountains where my lair lays.
Four days it took the clamour of their little ruthless war to turn into a deep, unpleasant silence. I'd grown used to Velosin's little music: the laughter of the drunkards, the clattering of the adventurer's hooves, the clanks of the smithy and the melodies of the royal trumpets. It was subtle like the whisper of the winds yet it was a warm, little seasoning to my days.
That's the reason why when that who called himself Terar came limping a trail of blood with a child of true-fire locks cradled in his arms, I heard him instead of burning him to ashes.
"Draelaar, I've reached your lair with a request," Terar said with wandering eyes, voice fading. "I beg you to hear me, for it is the last one I will speak."
"Utter them, you are the mercy of Jeriaz now," I said. "I'm not who to forbid your last words, but I'm to forget them."
He grinned a bloodied smile. "This child," Terar said and gently placed the whimpering little human on the floor, as if offering it. "This child is the infant princess of Velosin." He coughed crimson. "Take care of her! For she will avenge us all."
I laughed, "Why should I go through such trouble? I'm a dragon, a beast of might, gods to your kind," I said.
Terar collapsed to the floor, blood pooling beneath his legs. With a last breath and stretched arms he spoke his final words, "She's a moon rider."
I felt a coldness exploding inside like splintering stalactites burying deep within my flesh. A moon rider? They were myths made for the children with delusions of powerful magic. They weren't real, weren't they? Magic was long since extinct.
I grabbed the infant princess with my talon, two purple scars, like half-crescent moons traversed through the corners of her eyes, down to the bottom of her lips.
It was like in the myths.
-----------------------------------------------------
Part 2 coming in a bit!
/r/therobertfall
| Please be gentle, first time attempt + not my first language + on my phone, so formatting is bad
.
.
.
I look at him, bewildered.
"Don't you know what dragons normally do with princesses?"
He is breathing heavily, bleeding, dying. His eyes are wet as he looks at the baby which does not seem to understand the seriousness of the situation and is laughing gleefully. For him it is either getting killed by the invaders straight away or having a tiny glimpse of hope attached to my mercy.
I regret my question immediately.
What other choice could he have? And a dragon, a mighty one like me if I may add, is the best protection.
Still, I do not approve of this. What do I want with a tiny human baby that I will probably crush with my tail accidentally when I sleep. I have enough trouble wi-
"Oh my!! What is this???"
Oh no. Exactly what I wanted to avoid. Grialda comes speeding out of the deeper parts of the cave. After our hunt in the morning I thought she would be deep asleep.
Or hoped.
The soldiers eyes are bulging out of his sockets; then he quickly composes himself. He didn't expect another dragon. And probably didn't expect another dragon that is only about his size.
Yes, I produced an offspring.
"Can we keep it? Muuuum, please!"
...This is not helping me being majestic and all.
The soldier is looking rather hopeful now although I can see that in a few moments he will be gone.
"Please...Take good care of her." And with this words he collapses. | 2018-03-01T02:46:34 | 2018-03-01T02:25:58 | 43 | 30 |
[WP] A group of dragons gathers into a dark cave. They are all gathered to address an event that only happens once every hundred moons. They're going to play Cities and Civilians. | Not much is known about dragons.
Not much is known about quantum entanglement either, but, like dragons, you could fill an entire library with the books written on the subject.
What is known is that dragons are solitary creatures, and like most solitary creatures are prone to emotional outbursts, burning here and pillaging there, and they often try to cover up their loneliness with the hoarding of trinkets and baubles and gold.
The home of a dragon is a lonely thing, except that is, when, once every hundred moons or so, they gather to play that boardgame of lore, Cities and Civilians.
The four dragons huddled, deep in the depths of the earth, living out their escapist fantasies under the blood red moon, rolling the sheepsbone dice whose clatterings transported them out of the cave and into that mysterious realm they visited often, but only in their dreams.
"The soft chimes of an alarm clock float through the room, you have important things to do today," the city master whispered through the darkness over the cackling of the fire.
The clattering of a sheepsbone die echoes through the cavern.
"Success, you roll out of bed and stretch. You're tired from last week's camping trip, but excited for today's mission to confront the boss. You get dressed and look outside the hotel, you see a parking lot filled with mechanical chariots, an innhouse, and a carriage station underneath a sign that says "Motel 6."
The rules were strange, a complex interplay of dice and character thinking. The situations fantastic, a whole world of conflict settled without brawling. The items mysterious and magical, chariots to carry them where they needed to go, magical stones that talked and showed pictures. The game indulgent, millions of inhabitants just like them to talk and interact with.
Deep through the night and into the next day they played. They left the hotel, soft beds and good food, they rode on the bus, friendly faces and fantastic views, they confronted the boss, at first an enemy and later a friend, they conquered the mission to present their project and won the contract.
After it ended, the dragons arranged a time for their next meeting, then, one by one, flew off into the desolate tundra to their own solitary homes.
One of them crawled into his cave, the only sound the faint dripping of water and clanking of gold. He looked around sadly at the solitary chamber and thought about the people in the fantasy world, surrounded by exciting characters, each having their own adventures if you talked to them, stones to chat with your friends worlds away, recognition and plaudits if you successfully conquered the days.
"I wish I was a real human," he said, as he curled up to sleep. | They gathered in a dark cavern, untold ages old, used for generations of dragon kind. Their leader, Garnak, addressed them.
"Alright brethren, I am sure you all know the rules, but let's recap, so we do not have another unfair match like last time." Garnak, the highest of most high, explained.
"The rules are simple, half of us will spread across this continent and protect the cities and those nosey, arrogant humans while the other half will try to set fire to them." The others nodded their agreement.
"You are not allowed cross the narrow isthmus in the south. No killing, or maiming of other brethren will be tolerated. Those humans seem to be cooped up, so you might not get a mid game snack, although it is permitted."
"Is everyone ready?"
"Go!"
The thunderous booming of wings flapping and roars shook the trees for miles. Residents of the Northwest United States collectively shudder, not knowing why.
Garnak flies above to commentate.
"It appears that the attackers have split into three groups. Very solid strategic move. Meanwhile, the defenders seem to have scattered everywhere. I am not convinced that is a good move, but I guess we will see how it pans out."
"It looks like the first city being hit is going to be Seattle. It's going be a rough one. We've got a 3v7 matchup here and it's going to be a showdown. We'll give you the rundown after these short messages. | 2020-06-26T17:45:33 | 2020-06-26T17:44:14 | 43 | 16 |
[WP] You, a low rank adventurer who got stuck with the gardener class, have to put up with the higher ranked adventures trampling your garden and making fun of you. One day a famous adventurer trips on one of your plants and dies. Your level skyrockets. No other gardener has ever leveled up before. | “Please, around the roses.” I called out, trying to salvage my garden. It was impossible to be a gardener class in an age of warriors and mages. No one cared about the little gardener boy who was just trying to maintain a healthy system of flora. No, if my plants couldn’t fire lightning bolts or wield a sword, they wanted nothing to do with me.
I could see the culprit in the distance, a burly bear like man dressed in heavy plated armor, the metallic clanks drifting from him with every stride he took. “HAHA, my grandmother has the same hobby as you noble gardener and she eats radishes.” I wasn’t sure what the insult was there, but he said it with enough gusto that I still felt embarrassed, watching him trample each of my lovely plants to death only to trip. Time seemed to slow in that moment as he fell, only for the heavy thud of his body to leave a dent in the soil below.
“Um, you, ok?” I inched my way towards the man, crouching at his side. I gave his chest plate a cautious poke before giving his head a few frantic shakes. “Oh, no. Come on, don’t be dead. How will I explain this to the people that pass through here?” I grabbed his helmet, pulling it off him, seeing the bearded man’s brown eyes staring up at me. He was still alive, though barely. A gloved hand reached for my tunic, tugging me forward.
“Heh, Radish eater.” He said before falling back dead. Wasting his last word on an insult. When he passed, I felt a rush of energy, like I had eaten a bunch of fermented fruit. Everything tingled with a strange aura of energy and soon my muscles developed, growing a few extra inches while thick green vines enveloped my arms.
The tight grip of the vines should have caused pain and yet it felt pleasant, like they belonged pressed against my skin. For once I felt powerful, leaning my body back as the plants raised themselves from the ground to hold me up, offering me a back rest.
“This is incredible.” I rose from my spot beside the fallen adventurer, raising my hands as the surrounding soil twisted, reviving the trampled plants, causing them to spring to life, swaying along with the sunny breeze. “Finally, I can keep those heroes off my garden.” I felt a small amount of relief at that thought. It would be nice to not be a joke anymore. Maybe I would even earn their respect.
“Bullith?” A voice called out, watching as a smaller knight pushed through the shrubbery around my home, only to stare at me with a horrified expression, seeing me standing over their fallen hero with arms outstretched. “You murderer.” They hissed, drawing their sword.
“I didn’t. It’s a misunderstanding. He fell on my plants I swear.” Unfortunately, the hero didn’t seem to care about my failing attempts at explaining my innocence, only charging towards my garden. I put my hands up to block the attack, and the plants responded, rising from the soil to form a protective barricade. I could hear metal thumping against plant but no matter how hard he cut; the wall held.
“Fell on plants? You expect me to believe that would kill the mighty Bullith? I will bury your head next to him as a trophy.” The hero dramatically wailed, unable to even cut a hole in my defenses. I kept one hand raised to hold my defenses while the other hand scooped down, using a set of roots to pick up the body, tossing Bullith out of the garden, towards the other hero.
“Here’s his body. I promise you will find no wounds on him. If you just put your sword away, I’m sure we can discuss this respectfully.” I expected the sound of the thumping to stop, only to hear a shriek followed by even more frantic slashes.
“YOU KILLED HIM, HE’S REALLY DEAD. I WILL DRIVE MY SWORD THOUGH YOUR THROAT.” His threats were empty, unable to even break a hole in my defenses, but that wasn’t what concerned me. It was the other voices that I could hear in the distance, each one getting attracted to the hero’s screams. I could handle one hero, but two or three? Eventually, they would outnumber me.
Searching for a way out, I glanced at the bushes surrounding my quaint cottage. I hated the idea of leaving my garden, but it had to be done. I lowered my defenses and put my focus into the bushes instead, growing them around the garden, making a thick, confusing wall of greenery that would hide me until I got into the forest.
The bushes were a maze, the tall thick shrubbery impossible for anyone else to navigate. For me, it was simple. I would keep walking straight until I hit a dead end. Once I encountered that, I would open the dead end and continue. After a few minutes of walking, I finally reached the forest that surrounded my cottage, able to still hear their confused curses behind me. I considered freeing them, but thought better of it. If I dropped the maze, they would only try to capture or kill me. I needed time to escape.
With nowhere else to go, I headed north, making my way to the small village of Tuntail. Maybe someone there could use a person with my skills?
 
 
 
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.) | Gardening. Hah! Never woulda thought it'd suit me, but hey! No, no. It didn't suit me. First of all, I couldn't grow a carrot bigger than my pinky, nor even an herb garden to add some flavor to my life. Potions? Forget it. I felt completely useless.
From the beginning, I thought "My new life is starting! I'll be a real hero this time!" but we couldn't even choose the classes we got! Hell, I would've preferred to go back to being a businessman. At least I might've worked my way to being a merchant. Can't even sell the crops I grow thanks to that. No license! Hah.
Well, I did what I had to do to make it work. I gardened, for all it was worth, but couldn't do much to keep anything alive regardless of how hard I tried. That damn Robert and his "adventure party" or whatever the hell they're called couldn't leave my little plot of land alone. Always "hunting rats for a quest" or something. Never saw a rat, so maybe they did a good job. Who am I to say? They came back the other day, claiming they had to find some shiny rock and I decided to end my day there. Cook up some "baby" carrot stew and call it a night.
I woke up in the morning feeling downright refreshed. My first thought was "Dang! My carrots are finally doing something good!" but boy was I wrong. I got ready for the day's work, went outside, and an extremely foul smell hit my nose. Looking around, I couldn't see anything, so I followed my nose behind my house and there he was: Robert himself, laying cold in my garden. Well, not cold; the morning heat had already warmed him up a bit, but he was definitely dead. I'll admit, I was shocked. It feels weird to say it, but I was able to just "comprehend" it as an accident and kind of study the situation without being too grossed out. It was my first time seeing a dead body, but he looked pretty peaceful laying there with his head against that rock.
I looked around and couldn't see any of his party, so I walked up closer to get a look when I heard a loud DING in my head followed by the words floating up in my vision: You've leveled up from level 1 to 61. Congratulations! Please spend your skill points and access your status window via the window in the top right of your HUD. Suddenly, my vision went dark. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the night.
Now, one thing to keep in mind is that I'm not really a well-known person in this world. One day I woke up and was outside of a large town with the deed to a farmhouse and a plot of land. The only thing I ever saw was a window in the top left of my vision saying "Level 1 Farmer," and that was all the help and hint I got. Suddenly I'm waking up as a "Level 61 Druid" and haven't the slightest clue to what I'm supposed to do now. I only ever met one other farmer, Mr. Lanlass down the road from me, and he had been a Level 1 Farmer for almost 30 years. Thirty! Suddenly I'm a druid? What's a DRUID?! But I also realized I was sleeping next to a dead body, and every fiber in me told me I had to tell someone. But how? It's the dead middle of the night.
Suddenly I hear a "Hey, psst. Down here!~" It definitely caught my attention with that tiny sing-song voice but what I saw couldn't be contained by shock. It was a fairy!
"I ain't no fairy. I'm a gnome! A Garden Gnome to be exact, and my name is Frank. Glad you can finally see me, mister. Didn't think I'd ever meet another druid. But hey, enough a' that. Shouldn't ya clean up that mess there? The authorities see that and you're in the pen for the next twenty some odd years, man."
It was a GNOME!
From that point on, I knew my life would be different. But first, I had to take care of this stinking body. | 2021-11-12T11:42:53 | 2021-09-09T21:37:59 | 1,235 | 35 |
[WP]You receive a message, "Reply Yes if you can survive the last video game you played." You answer Yes. Your vision blanks and you open your eyes finding that you are at the beginning of said game. You hear a voice "To leave you must win. Your prize is all you gain in this world. Good luck" | When I got the text, I didn't have to think about it very long - I had just been lying in bed, playing Ashphalt on my PHONE. 'Yeah, sure,' I reply, thinking nothing of it. Jeff always sends me this shit.
As I put my phone back down and close my eyes I feel a wave of nausea hit, then pass, leaving behind a lingering whiff of burnt rubber and exhaust. I hear a voice, over my.... headset?
"To leave you must win. Your prize is all you gain in this world. Good luck"
My eyes snap open. I'm in a garage, a frankly unfathomable number of performance cars arrayed before me, like the private caryard of a middle eastern prince. Gaudy paint jobs contrasted with sleek carbon fibre and there was high tempo pop-rock coming from.... somewhere? On the wall there were pictures of cars with post-its attached - 1/45, 23/25, 11/100 - records of my progress to yet more sets of wheels.
My crew chief saunters up. "Next race is in 5, boss. European circuit. Choose between the Audi, the Porche or the VW." I look at him, hard. "The Porche, man, always the Porche" "Sure, boss? She's almost out of fuel and you might want her for the next run - competition will be hot and it's a 90 minute job to fill her up again" "Alright, then, warm up the Audi, but make sure you upgrade her nitro, she fell behind last time"
I start to wonder - what's my "winning condition"? One race? A season? A full circuit? I might be here a long time... But at least I'll come away with a lot of cash!
The Chief comes back. "Alright boss, Audi's on the starting line, get out there." I head out and strap in. I start the engine and give her a few test revs. The lights strobe.
3
2
1
GO!!!
Aaaaaaaand I stall it. Shit. I can't drive a fucking manual. | I really need to stop asking 'What's the worst that can happen?' Probably because I can't see anymore. Why the hell is it so dark???
A bit of context: I was about to turn in for the night when I received a random text message - "Reply Yes if you can survive the last video game you played." Under normal circumstances, I would just delete the message tree and forget that it existed, but I figured to do at least one, no harm in it.
And I said that damnable phrase.
Where the hell am I?
'They are Rage, Brutal, without Mercy...'
...why does that sound familiar?
'But you...You will be Worse...'
Wait...is this...?
'Rip and Tear, until it's done!'
Well, at least I know what I'm getting out of this at the end. | 2020-02-17T00:31:53 | 2020-02-16T23:52:15 | 21 | 14 |
[WP] Across the galaxy, humans are known for tinkering on, and sometimes breaking, random items due to long transit time across space. As a solution, your company makes unfixable items to keep humans amused and harmless. Today a frantic captain just called claiming a human 'fixed' your product. | My crew evaluations had been submitted a few night-cycles previously. His had been short and highly complementary: Propulsion Engineer Adams was a good man, a fine example to his team. Responsible and decisive. An introvert, more interested in books about ancient technologies than the intoxicants and tinkertoys his peers enjoyed so much. Proficient with general warp theory, exceptionally skilled at artificial gravity maneuvering systems.
I had gotten him a special one for this voyage; a water wheel without an axle and no gearing mechanism. Explicit prohibitions against creating either from scratch. Basically just a pair of bonded steel rings, some bolts, and the instruction, "translate potential energy to mechanical without any additional parts."
The innocuous announcement from the engineering team that the warp drive would be briefly going offline for unscheduled maintenance was the first red flag, but I trusted that Adams had things well in hand. There was a brief shudder, a faint whirring noise, and we resumed our course after a mere thirty minutes.
The knock on my door - with the computer's announcement of Adams' arrival in my foyer - was the second flag, but it merely piqued my interest. Adams wasn't fond of direct contact - he generally made his reports through the internal hypercomm. The door opened and the human came to stand nervously in front of my desk.
"Adams!" I exclaimed. "I imagine you have managed yet another miraculous improvement to our warp formula?"
"Not exactly, sir. This involves our power generation systems."
Adams was, as I've said, was a leader of our propulsion division. His statement - and his twitchiness - began to concern me. I checked my screens. "Our output is well-above standard, but not dangerously so. The warp coils are running within spec. Maneuvering thrusters report no errors. What has you so bothered?"
"Well, sir, it's the fusion reactor. I've taken it offline. I also may have broken a few laws."
"Offline? How? We're underway, and output is still in the... Wait, laws? What sort of laws?" I rose from my pod, fighting to keep my anger from showing in my quills. "What have you done, Adams? Who have you killed?"
The human coughed. "Ahem. Not intergalactic laws, sir. Physical ones."
My quills stopped shaking as I stared at him. I laid my claws on the desk as I rose to stare him in the eye. "Explain."
"It may be best if you see for yourself, sir."
***
As we approached the engineering bay, the unusual humming noise began to register in my auditory implants again. There was also a faint... Splashing? As I turned the corner, my jaws dropped. The spherical fusion chamber had been yanked our of its socket and sat discarded in the corner. In its place, spinning, was Adams' tinkertoy. It was floating in a sphere of liquid several klons off the ground, surrounded by rings of magnets. Electrical discharges hopped to and fro.
"You see sir, Engineer Squonble suggested grav-lev bearings in place of an axle, to stabilize the wheel. The interaction between the wheel and the magnet matrix creates a steady current, so we wouldn't need the axle for power generation itself anyways. The issue arose when we introduced the water."
"Water? Where did you find water in this ship?"
Engineer Kruger tentatively raised a hand. "I reverse-distilled it from platinum-neotide coolant and beer. Sorry sir."
I waved him off. "What happened next?"
Adams continued, "We poured a bucket over the wheel to see if it would spin. It did, so we thought 'neat, we fixed a tinkertoy'. An accomplishment, even if it was functionally useless. The issue is, it never stopped spinning. Squonble nearly lost a tentacle trying to slow it down. We can't shut off the grav-lev, because somehow they're being fed power by the wheel. We can't remove the magnets, because the geometric instability would send bits shooting all over the place. Simply put, sir, we don't know how to turn it off."
"This waterwheel is actively generating power comparable to a fusion reactor, _without fuel_, and you can't turn it off. Are you implying you've created a..."
"Yes sir. A perpetual motion machine."
I sighed, my quills drooping. I slammed a claw into the hypercomm. "Pilot, adjust course. We're heading to the Council Station. Yeoman, inform the Directorate that we've... invented... a potentially disruptive technology. Adams, Kruger, Squonble, you're confined to this chamber. Security will bring your meals. You're forbidden any outside contact or use of tinkertoys. Make sure this damn thing doesn't blow us all to hell. I need a drink." | "Wait ... did I fix it? Those were advertised as 'unfixable' ... Huh I should talk to engineering."
As I took my ... what was this anyways to engineering I started to look at the "manual" to find out what that was supposed to be ... maybe.
As I turned to the elevators to ask for guidance I found the "product" ... wait this is a fusion cell?
Why would they sell this. This is dumb. Don't they know how dangerous these things are. I AM an engineer on this ship, I know how terrifying these cells are.
And they sell broken ones for us to "fix"?
By God will I complain.
I quickly found the heating circuit and turned it off, one of the safest ways to ... defuse this basically mininuke. I just asked myself how I haven't noticed that this is a fusion cell. I work around those often enough.
As I slammed the cell on the table of my chef he quickly glances over and then falls back in terror.
I interrupted "It is off now, better safe than sorry. This was one of these 'unfixable' gadgets for is humans ... well honestly most engineers by now. Got quite popular by now right."
He just stared at it.
"No I don't know I haven't noticed how this is a fusion cell, but that they sell those at all with the chance that one might be able to repair one is outrageous personally. If I wouldn't have know how those work at all that thing could have went up as a blinding sun."
As my engineering master got back his composure he just says "Fuckers getting ships killed"
So we contacted the captain, she was as mad as us. Like how can you ever think this is a good idea, until the trade master drops in with a simple explanation:
"Theya re cheap to make, basically abundant and most importantly extremely easy to fuck up and break."
We still though this was irresponsible. The trade master agreed tho with a respect to the hustle.
So we filed a complaint. Not even a day after this a small Courier Intercepter catched up to us and quickly docked in the shuttle hangar.
Out came a distressed representative of the company which sold those thingies.
After requesting to see the cell she just went purple, for their species a very bad colour, after actually being able to actually start the actual fusion cell she just turns to us: "Where is your bar, I need to never remember this moment?'
We stopped her and send her to the medic quarters and let her sit down and talk to our psychologist.
Our trade master admitted then he did plan on me fixing on cell. He believed this company was worth to squeeze out in class action suits, he just wanted a large part of the cake.
Then he got out the prospect. They were also selling kits for Microscale Antimatter Reactors, LASER cores and even a prototype singularity generator.
I looked up: "We recently were able to build a functioning singularity generator, and this ... is bad. Also LASER cores? Holy shit this company has to die. It is just a question of very limited time until one of these actually starts up and fucks things up.
Imagine one of these prototype generators actually makes a singularity ... in a natural gravity field. That would destroy planets."
As our captain wanted to leave the representative came in ... nearly comatose drunk, Captain closed the bar specifically for her. We will need her help later.
And I? I called up a mercenary friend, still have a favour with them. If these informations ever leave this ships the company will try to ... silence us. If they sell this knowingly who knows what else they will do. | 2022-12-15T00:06:45 | 2022-12-14T22:20:41 | 159 | 85 |
[WP] Some people manifest a rune that allows them summon and control a creature from another plane. Rune bearers don't get to choose the creature and after 5 years they are sucked into plane that it comes from. You are about to find out what creature is linked to your rune. | *Dull and unremarkable, kind of like you. Id be surprised if you're lucky enough to receive anything more than a house pet.*
The words drifted through my head as my hands explored every inch of my "unremarkable" rune. They came in many shapes and sizes; however, I had never seen one quite as dull as mine. Some of these mystical tokens beared intricate designs, or strange shapes, but mine had no such intricacies.
Despite the lack of design I remained hopeful. The stories I read spoke of the most powerful runes spawning mystical creatures. From Phoenix's with the ability to revive their fallen master, to beasts comprised of raging storms, their masters fate remained the same. The handler will eventually take place of the beast in its realm, and the beast becomes free to do as it pleases. I was more than happy to take the risk.
I set the rune down gently on the dark wooden table in my home and picked up the leather bound journal resting nearby. I carefully unlatched the journal as not to tear the thin pages and wrote.
*Day 432: The damned thing is still silent. Maybe it got mixed up with a rock by mistake*
"Ha! Still writing in that thing? Ya know even if it does reveal itself it'll probably wind up being crap anyways right?" A large book opened and spoke from the other side of the room
"Yeah because you haven't told me that three hundred other times Beelze, thanks for the heads up. You've spent the last ten years on that shelf, I figured you would have thought of better material by now"
"Don't get sassy with me now. You could be spending your time doing something better, like finding a man, but you're here in a hut, writing about a rock."
"What are you my mom? Be grateful I haven't used you as firewood yet"
Beelze was a pain, but he made for good conversation...sometimes.
"Most expensive firewood you'd ever burn girl. After all you did pay quite the amount just for some company in the form of literature"
I ignored him and set the journal aside so I could relay the status of my rune to the town lead. The few of us in town lucky enough, or unlucky enough in some cases, to possess a rune had to keep them in check.
*After all we can't have beasts running around terrorizing the less fortunate* his words rang though my head. My mind invisioned him standing tall and arrogant, beast at his side. The monster he controlled was ungodly. A twisted tree with large thorns jetting at random from its trunk. The trees roots secreted an amber colored sap that was rumored to have the ability drive men mad when ingested. I preferred to stay away from the town lead.
*Day 432: No activity from my Rune but I will be sure to keep you updated Lead Troy. All my best, Scital.*
I took the letter outside to a raven and tied it to its foot. It glared at me expectantly.
"No. First you deliver then you'll get your treat Basi." I spoke to the raven. He seemed to understand and flew off with the note.
"Uhhhh Scital. You might want to get in here." Beelze spoke from inside the hut.
"What is it drama queen?" I yelled from outside
"No no. You need to get inside the hut now!" There was fear in his voice.
I ran back and burst through the door to see my rune shaking violently on the table. It had begun.
"I gotta go! Beelze watch the house!"
"Well...house is kind of a stretch, but yeah I'll watch the place. Now go!"
In record time I threw on something more presentable and made my way out of the hut with the rune shaking in hand. Town was only a few minutes away, but I couldn't afford to slow down. If my rune revealed itself and Troy wasn't there to conduct the ceremony he'd have my ass.
I picked up speed rounding the last hill sperating me from the town when suddenly the rune began to glow a bright blue.
"No no no! Not yet please not yet!"
It sprung from my hand onto the grass where it charred the spot it came into contact with. My anxiety slowly turned to excitement. After a year and a half my creature would finally be revealed.
The fire around the rune quickly spread, burning the hill leaving only a small spot untouched around my feet. I could feel the intense fire tugging at my body. The rune shattered and a massive snake rose up from it's center. The monsters body many stories tall and its head coated in a thick layer of armor like scales. The creature let out a long roar causing the earth to tremble beneath it. I ducked my head and covered my eyes at the sight of it. The snake lowered its head down to me and spoke in a deep voice.
"Come young one. You have nothing to fear. I am Apophissss the Great, destroyer of worlds, defiler of man, breaker of bonds! I am eternally grateful for freeing me from that infernal contraption, now what do you wish of me master?
The words tugged at the back of my throat.
"I...I well."
"Anything you ask I shall grant. I know of your ssstruggles. I feel the pain you've felt " He hissed
A crowd gathered from the town and now stared in awe from a distance. Troy pushed his way through the center to the line of fire on the hill.
"Scital! What is the meaning of this?! Surrender this beast!"
"Ignore them. Where I am from I am a god. That makes you stronger than any man. They have no weight over you. I am Apophis, the most powerful being this world has ever seen, and you my master!"
My heart pounded as Apophis stared down at me, awaiting my command.
"Apophis! If you are all powerful, then take me to the realm you came from"
| “5… Years? I think its five letters. Or maybe six. Or maybe seven. Can you see if you can read this for me?”
“What is it?”
“It’s a rune. That’s what it says it is anyway.”
“Here, give it to me.” Timmy handed the rune, or the rock that was pretending to be a rune, over to Dave who seemed doubtful about the fact that the rune was anything other than an old, dusty rock. The rune fit perfectly in Dave’s hand as he squinted to try and read the fainted letters carved on the flat surface of the rune.
"Instructions: crush rune to summon a creature from another… planet. Well, I’m guessing it’s meant to say planet. The ‘t’ probably is too faded to read.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
“You may control the creature at will once summoned. Warning: you will be sucked into wherever the creature has come from within 5… I can’t read the last word either. It’s probably years though. I don’t think a longer word can fit in there.” Dave said as he passed the rune back to his friend who was noticeably disappointed that he couldn’t read what the last word was either.
“Where did you find this thing anyway?”
“I skipped my third period because I forgot to do my homework. You know what Mrs. Rosewell is like when someone doesn’t do their homework. I was hiding in the unused gym, when I found that thing hiding between some old cleaning tools. I thought I’d tell you about it during lunch before I tried it out. Just in case.”
“You’re going to try and crush it?”
“Of course I am. When do you ever get the chance to summon a creature that isn’t from earth?”
“You’re an idiot.” Dave said as he looked at the excited face of his friend who seemed to believe the rune was real. *He’ll probably believe it if I told him I could use magic* Dave thought to himself as Timmy raised his arm high up in the air, holding the rune tightly as though the harder he crushed it, the bigger the creature he’d summon would be. Timmy swung his arm down as hard as he could, and the rune shattered into a million tiny pieces.
“Ow.” Timothy was the first to speak after a couple moments had passed. He decided it was someone else’s elaborate prank that he had fallen into, and tried his best not to look too upset about that.
“I think the rune was a bit too old. I’m sure it was real though.” Dave said, as he tried to cheer up his best mate.
“Come on, the bell’s about to go. We should head to class or otherwise we’ll be late.”
“Okay. Let me jus… SPIDER!” Timmy screamed as he saw a huge spider crawling on his shoe. Dave started screaming with him, as he ran away from Timmy, who was frantically shaking his legs in hopes to get rid of the spider that seemed unamused about the fact that the ground it was walking on started to move. After Timmy successfully knocked the spider off his precious shoe, he ran towards Dave as fast as he could, away from the spider.
“Since when did we live in Australia?” Dave said, each words through his hard panting, staring at the spider to make sure it wasn’t getting any closer.
“I’ve never seen a spider that big. Is that even a spider?”
“Maybe you should’ve kept the rock so you could smash it on that thing. Should we call the police? It seems dangerous.” Timmy tried to look as manly as possible, or however manly you could look after running away from a spider while screaming your head off.
“Don’t be ridiculous Dave. It’s only a spi…” A bright light flashed that blinded them both. Timmy suddenly got very dizzy, and fell over, only to continue falling instead of hitting the ground. When he woke up, his eyesight’s slowly returning, he could hear sounds similar to an engine of a car. After a couple seconds, he could make out a toilet right in front of his face.
“Where… where am I?” He asked himself, as he slowly stood up in what seemed like a small bathroom. He unlocked the door, only to find himself in an airplane, full of passengers. He walked down the aisle, until he found an empty seat next to an old man looking into a plastic cage. He carefully sat down next to him, trying not to bother him from what he was doing. The old man was looking intensly into his cage, which didn’t seem to have anything in it.
“What are you looking at?” Timmy asked the old man out of curiosity. The old man answered,
“I seem to have lost my pet spider.” | 2018-05-27T05:58:30 | 2018-05-27T05:25:56 | 42 | 14 |
[WP] Humans once wielded formidable magical power but with over 7 billion of us on the planet now Mana has spread far to thinly to have any effect. When hostile aliens reduces humanity to a mere fraction the survivors discover an old power has begun to reawaken once again. | All us helpless billions watch on our little glowing rectangles as our fellow humans die in droves. They fall screaming, choking, burning. The internet’s bad in the house, so we hunker on the steps of the chicken coop to see it.
Together we watch the end of the world. Our breath clouds and storms around us. But we do not notice the cold. Our hearts and bones are lead.
My siblings don’t make a sound. I look between the three of them and the black, faultless sky. I wonder if the afterlife looks like night, or if just looks like nothing. I wonder if I’ll find out soon.
Somewhere far away, death shrieks scarlet overhead. Ships with roving eyes swarm the sky like an army of locusts. Bodies, whole and unwhole, strewn out one atop the other, left where they fell. Entire skyscrapers collapse like dominoes. News anchors weep, openly, if they’re on the air at all. My sister flicks restlessly through live streams, unable to pick which tragedy to behold.
We crowd my oldest sister’s phone, barely able to watch yet unable to look away.
She stops at the live press conference from the president. His voice is grave and hollow; he speaks to us from a dark room in some bunker somewhere. He says, “—at this point we have little hope. We will defend ourselves to the end, but tonight, please, stay inside, stay with your loved ones—”
My brother Aaron has his head between his knees. When we were kids he ran screaming after the cougar that took his puppy. (Aaron didn't catch it.) I never believed fear was an emotion he had. “Turn that shit off,” he gasps.
“Ignoring the aliens invading our fucking planet won’t make them go away,” Maya snaps but she switches to Facebook. Not that any of her friends would have time to post *oh shit I’m dying*, anyway.
Out here, under the unblinking stars, surrounded by a chorus of crickets and coyote, I can’t fathom what waits out there.
“Someone has to tell Papa,” Jackie murmurs. She is my twin, but you can’t tell. People always seem disappointed that there’s such a thing as non-identical twin sisters.
“You’ll just scare him.” Maya, the oldest, has always been the unofficial boss of all of us. She made it official when Dad started mistaking her for our mother and trying to scramble uncracked eggs.
“He deserves to know,” she insists.
“If they come here,” Maya says through her teeth, “we’re not getting a panicked old man into the truck without hurting someone, alright?” Her words hang frozen for a moment.
“Do you think they’ll come out here?” I whisper. I am the youngest by eight minutes, and I am good at the part.
“No,” says Jackie, quickly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
Aaron pulls his beanie over his eyes. “I wouldn’t rule it out, Jack.”
Maya gasps into her fingers. “Oh, god, they’re in Spokane.”
Bile shoots up my throat. That’s barely a hundred miles from here. Not even a particularly large city. I wonder if they’re hunting us one by one. Like rabbits.
“Shit, is that Maddie’s—?” Aaron snatches the phone from her hands.
I lean over his shoulder to see.
My sister’s friend has pressed her phone lens to the window of her dorm room. In the background, she speaks in rapid, panicked whispers with her roommate.
Outside her window mortars plummet in blue and yellow streaks, big as bowling balls. I hear her cry, “Are they bombing us?” as the first one connects. It blooms soundlessly, a pale yellow locus, and then the power of it explodes outward.
It takes Maddie maybe six seconds to die. She has enough time to say, “I need to call my mom,” as the wall of smoke and debris rushes toward her like a sulfurous tsunami. The window shatters. The video goes black.
I don’t even realize what I’ve seen until Maya starts bawling into her hands.
A strange fire tingles in my palms, my belly. I feel the urge to move. To rise and fight.
“We have to do *something*,” I say.
Aaron looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Like what?”
My fingers dance against the leg of my jeans. I know I should be scared as hell, but something in me is restless. Hungry for something very old, and long-forgotten.
I stand up and face my siblings. I look them over carefully, in case this is the last time I see them. “We will not just watch.” I point at the house. “We won’t just let them kill everything and everyone and just stand here and *watch*.”
Just south of us, down beyond the hide of the mountain, the sky turns red with fire.
Tears stream down my brother’s cheek. “I can’t believe this is fucking it.”
I shake my head, insistently. Insanely. I don’t know why, but I can’t accept that this *is* it. That this is truly how we fall.
I ball my fists up at my sides. A furious heat snaps at the bars of my ribs, yearning to set on those who dared attack our home, of all places. Our dad, of all people.
I let the hate and heat fill me.
Flame chases down my forearm, over my knuckles. The white hot of anger. My fist is a coal and my flesh is carved from the mountain, and I will destroy anything that threatens the ones I love.
“Elektra,” my brother says, oddly calm, "why is your hand glowing?"
I look at my palm and grin. The fire finds my belly now. The chaos delights some new-awoken part of me that I had never known I possessed. It is like catching my reflection in an angle I have never seen before. I am myself, but different.
“I think...” I laugh, despite the clouds of smoke rising from town. It rises out of me like a bird. I have never felt smaller or stronger. “I think I did it on purpose.”
***
/r/shoringupfragments
~~Doing part 2 right now~~
update: I accidentally deleted what I was working on. I'm going to go angrily eat cupcakes and try again.
ETA: I fell asleep :( I will post part two in a couple of hours when I'm on my break. You can check here or my sub. Thank you so much for reading. | Kevin listened to the Oracle while sitting on the cloth that covered the pile of rubble beneath it. He's heard the tale more times than he can count: on that fateful day, 25th December of the year 2017, fleets of starships darkened the sky, and leveled the human civilization.
The oracle spoke of times when humans were plenty, the time when people would gather in the weekends for drinks, the time when people fought amongst themselves over petty differences… They're all gone now. The aliens wiped them all out. All those years of hard work, all the things they have learned over time, the monuments they managed to build were all erased when the fleet arrived, and, according to the Oracle, “glassed the planet”. The oracle never spoke about how many were killed, perhaps even he doesn't know. He did however, spoke in detail as to the destruction of civilizations: How the tallest buildings erupted in flames, how the people simply turned to ash without even burning, how none managed to find out a way to deal with the aliens despite many of them spending thousands of hours practicing how to fight them…
The next part always dreads Kevin. The oracle would move close to him, ignite the candles in the hut with a motion of his hand, and tell Kevin it is his destiny to overthrow the aliens, before telling him to put out the candles without leaving his seat.
Kevin sat as still as he can. This is going to be another failure, another time he would disappoint the Oracle and his people… It's not like he doesn't have any idea on what the oracle wants him to do. Kevin knew the oracle meant for him to create a gust of wind with his mind, similar to how the Oracle lit the candles with his mind.
“Oracle…” Kevin said while lowering his head in shame, “you know I can't do it, I've been trying since the first time I was here. There's just nothing I can do...”
Kevin remained in his seat, concentrating on creating a wind to put out all the candles. He had been doing this dance every week since he was ten. And now, five years later, he still hasn't been able to accomplish this simple feat.
Kevin continued to think of the wind, a strong breeze came through the door, blowing out all the candles. Just as Kevin was wondering whether this meant success for him, the Oracle signaled him to hide under the rug he was sitting on, before doing so himself. Kevin knew the alien patrols are nearby. Unlike putting out the candles, hiding from aliens is never something he had trouble with. Although he is having a tingly feeling, something is not right.
And then he realized, none of them packed the candles. He pondered what he should do, as he heard the footsteps of three aliens jumping onto the ground. Each step they take, their greaves make a sound that warns everyone nearby of their presence. The message is clear -- be out of their sight, or be killed.
The footsteps growing ever closer. The aliens will search the area when they see the candles. Kevin thought of his next step. There are none. Had he been able to put out the candles earlier…
The scream of the Oracle pulled Kevin back to reality. As he peeked from a hole in his cover, he saw one of the aliens, in his shiny silver armor, holding the Oracle in the air. The other two were stand next to him, crossing their arms, probably enjoying the sight of their comrade killing an old man.
Kevin thought of what he should do: continue to hide, and let the aliens take his mentor? Or would he try to fight them, and die. The Oracle would never wanted him to throw his life away for anyone, that he knows. He is important to overthrowing the aliens. But what good would he be if he didn't save the man that taught him everything. What good would he be if he died here...
Another scream. Kevin two pieces of debris, got out of his cover, and hurled them at the aliens. The aliens stood steadfast, letting their armor deflect the rocks. Kevin picked up another one, threw it at them again, nothing. Another one, and another…
Until his arms grew tired and his couldn't pick up anymore rocks. The aliens looked at one another, as one of them produced a pistols from his holster, and began taking aim at Kevin…
*Why am I so useless*
Kevin thought to himself as he stared the alien in the eyes, prepared to die, he is useless anyway.
The alien squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt of energy launched at Kevin. He instinctively raised his hand at the bolt. Just as the bolt was about to hit him, he felt a warm wave of energy concentrate on his hand, flowing to his palm, and outward to the incoming projectile.
The bolt hit his hand, but it didn't hurt. And the feeling of warmth continued flowing through Kevin.
Kevin concentrated, looking at the aliens who are going to kill his friend. He let the energy wave concentrate on his hand again. Except this time the feeling is much more intense. He looked at the aliens one more time, and unleashed the wave of energy at them. He watched as his assailants come into contact with the wave of blue energy, and burned to ash in mere seconds.
Kevin rushes towards the Oracle and helped him get up. Together, they packed up their camp and headed home. | 2018-05-01T08:36:36 | 2017-12-06T20:39:17 | 377 | 13 |
[WP] The hottest show in the afterlife for the past decade: Steve Irwin wrangling all sorts of supernatural creatures. | G'day and welcome to the Myth Hunter. Today, I'm going after the stone salamander of Seneca. Oh, looks like we've got one. 'Ere we have the rare basilisk. Crikey, this ones a giant in'it he? Now the thing you've got to remember with basilisks is, if they stare you straight in the eye, yer turned to solid rock. So the best thing to do with these is to wear a blindfold 'round ya head. Now that I've got mine on, I can start to wrangle it.
Whatcha wannado with these critters is get low to the ground while you approach em. Now they're going to- oof, yea- to try and rear up at ya. Once you hear that screech you've got to go in at em. Grab em right- c'mon there ya go- right here, right under the front two legs. Keep your head Low, it'll try and nip ya, but it can't bend its neck far enough.
Shh, shh, calm girl calm. Now we can safely remove the blindfold, as we keep her eyes pointed safely in the sky. Ya can see this ones a girl cause of the crystal 'tween her eyes. Males don't got that 'tween their eyes, just real thick, thick, eyebrow ridges. As a secondary weapon the basilisk has these thick claws, take a look 'ere. Each ones about a quarter inch thick and hard as granite. Teeth too, once bit straight through my sternum. Lucky I'm dead else it've put me out of commission.
Alright, time to let her go now. You've got to put your blindfold back on and toss her back quick. I'm going to push off in 3.....2......1....go go go go, alright c'mon. Looks like shes stopped following now and- wassat? Zoom in over there. Crickey, shes got a little runt with her. Definitely the smallest of her litter, little guy must only be about a foot long. S'allright to look at 'im. Poor lil guy wont open his eyes for 'nother month at least. For now he's sticking close to mommy for protection. The young climb on their mothers back for protection from threats. For the first three months of their lives they're effectively defenseless against predators, specially weasels.
God. That's just absolutely beautiful. Watching mother and son go into the sunset together. Nature's majesty right before us. Thanks all for tuning in, catch me here next week when we go after the elusive jackalope, the mirage of the midwest. G'night! | ...and then no pain, just a floating sensation. The kind that you get when take off, being pushed into your seat as the nose of the plane points towards the clouds.
I was conscious of my surroundings, but confused. I couldn't see anything but knew everything was there.
The giant gate came out if nowhere, like a white monolith situated in the densest of cloud.
The left side swung open and a whisper of harps could be heard as I moved closer to the open gate I could see people running as a herd.
Almost animalistic as they pushed and shoved each other, I'd only ever seen anything like it on TV when birds fly together and black out the sky.
Then it appeared, a frameless image at least 100ft square.
80 percent of the screen was Steve Irwin's face. He gave the happiest of winks towards me and then a series of images flashed on screen.
A booming voice played over the images:
"Come see Steve take on the wildest of creatures. Megladon the seas largest killer.
Cthulu 8 arms ain't got nothing on Steve, Bigfoot has been spotted and Steve's not happy.
I joined the flocking crowd and descended into the auditorium below the giant image of Steve.
As I glanced back the glimmer in his eyes and his smile was infectious. I was home.
*Sorry for grammar mistakes I'm terrible at stuff like this* | 2022-11-14T01:22:17 | 2017-12-21T16:32:01 | 5,465 | 16 |
[WP] Humanity discovers an unlimited source of renewable energy, but it's banned by all interstellar civilizations. | Sophine Hemsley was jarred awake by a high-pitched whine which filled the Earth embassy. It was still night outside, as it would remain for a couple of hours more until the twin suns rose on planet Auxley, but a soft, orange glow had draped across the skies, hanging like an ephemeral curtain.
She stumbled to the window and peered outside, searching desperately for the source of the unusual illumination. When her eyes confirmed her suspicions, she sank to her knees, hands gripping tightly on the windowsill.
There’s no time to be weak, no time to be daddy’s little girl anymore, Sophine thought, fighting for control, wiping away angry tears fitfully. I have a duty, just as much as he does.
A disembodied voice boomed over the public address systems, interrupting the alarms which had so callously robbed them all of their sleep. “All personnel be advised, we are on emergency lockdown. Stay where you are, assistance will be dispatched shortly.”
Sophine flicked the holoscreens on, and already the Auxleyan emergency broadcasts were swamping every channel. The mod fitted in her ears, compulsory for all Earth diplomats and their family members, dutifully translated the excited Auxleyan chitterings for her in real time.
“… this just in. Early eyewitness reports are confirming that the Sun-Ring Generator in Section 4, one of the last few remaining blackhole energy converters still in commission, has just suffered a catastrophic implosion. Sources say that entire Sectors are in critical states, and without alternative energy sources to power them immediately, the death toll could be in the billions…”
The forceshield around the embassy flickered gently as chunks of the Sun-Ring Generator rained down around them. Finally mustering the courage, Sophine tapped on her personal communicator, and navigated to her inbox where a single unread message from her father beckoned.
“I will always love you. Be strong for me, and for all of us.”
The encrypted message had barely finished deleting itself when the alarms rang through the embassy again. She heard angry shouts call out, then the distinctive pattering of laserfire, then silence. In a way, she wasn’t entirely surprised. They may have had a fully-decked out squadron defending the embassy, but an entire regiment was needed if they seriously intended to keep the Auxleyans out by force.
What more if the Auxleyans were rampaging, as they certainly were now?
Her door burst open in a shower of sparks. As the dust cleared, Sophine saw three fully matured Auxleyans in battlearmor, chests heaving from the exertion, tentacles taut with anger. She mouthed a silent prayer for the fallen human soldiers lying in the corridor beyond, valiant to the end.
“Sophine Hemsley, daughter of Gerry Hemsley, desist immediately. We are to take you in for questioning.”
“I will not,” she said, voice wavering despite her best efforts, “I have done nothing wrong, and it is a breach of intergalactic law for you to charge into our embassy. Proceed with caution, Auxleyan!”
“Breach? You dare speak to me of a breach?” exclaimed the leader, spittle flying from its three mouths. “When you earthlings have just committed the greatest act of terrorism this planet has ever seen? When we have nothing less than full holographic evidence that your father entered our Sun-Ring Generator under false pretenses, then blew it up in a suicide attack?”
“You are lying, Auxleyan. My father would never do something like th-”
The tentacle whisked through the air, lashing Sophine across the face so hard that she toppled to the ground.
“It was all lies!” continued the leader, towering over Sophine. “We trusted you when you said that you wanted to learn from us, that you just needed our guidance in order to figure out how to shut down your own blackhole generators! And this is how you repay us? By attacking us?”
Sophine wasn’t an expert on Auxleyan body language, but she registered the shock and outrage as genuine. A part of her marvelled then at the irony of it all – for it was the Auxleyans, together with all the other established species in the Galactic Federations, who had first trespassed on Earth, demanding that Earth abandon all further forays into blackhole technology, on pain of complete annihilation.
She was too young to understand then, but her father had later recounted it all to her, how Earth had pleaded its case in vain, explaining that without the unlimited renewable energy which could be tapped using blackhole technology, Earth had no chance of ever advancing to the same levels as the other species already had.
Further, as the Earth diplomats had stressed, some species, like the Auxleyans, were still actively using the very same blackhole technology which they wanted Earth to surrender! Granted, they had all committed to moving to alternative sources of energy, but the fact remained that for the immediate future, Earth would be deprived of blackhole energy while their detractors would continue benefiting from it!
The responses were varied and emphatic, of how other species had not been any wiser in the past, how time was needed for them to transition, how every species was aligned in recognising the dangers of blackhole technology, and how Earth too had to do its part.
So many explanations were offered. Earth only heard excuses, feeble, self-serving excuses, designed to suppress humanity while the other species flourished.
“If I refuse, Auxleyan, do you mean to remove me by force? Do you not know that the moment your tentacles descended on our embassy, that reinforcements were summoned?”
“Arrogant human! Even as we speak, our own troops have been massing at your embassy!”
“Do you think that’s enough?”
“Enough? Enough?” bellowed the Auxleyan, “We are the elite of our planet, the lynchpin of our army! An entire division has already arrived, ready to repel any resistance which comes our way!”
Sophine smiled.
“Yes, actually. That is enough.”
In those last few seconds, she found her hands steady, determined, resolute. She tapped on her communicator again, and after the short authorization sequence was cleared, the explosive charges so carefully stowed away and seeded throughout the embassy grounds, simultaneously ignited in a cascade of fireworks which eerily mirrored the downfall of the stricken Sun-Generator.
Sophine had time for one last thought before her molecular structure was completely disintegrated.
I too, can do my duty, father.
---
/r/rarelyfunny
| I was currently speaking with the ambassador of Toris as we started to implement our new reactors. I didn't get what the reactors did exactly, only that it produces a lot of energy and uses close to no recources, making earth energy independant in cases of emergency. The scientists have also assured me that it is save to use, but this ambassador kept going on about how we shouldn't use it for savety reasons.
'As far as I understand it, it should be safe.' I said, 'Could you explain it in stupid people terms?'
'The thing is, we actually don't know either what the problem is, only that everytime any other civilisation tried using this tec, it blew up within ten minutes of being put to use.' He responded. 'We have basicly no idea what happens, as it normally seems to work quite well untill it suddenly bursts into flames and explodes, destroying an area at least the size of what you call north america, on one occasion, it even blew up a moon. There are conspiracy theories, and many of those, but they are rarely well supported by the facts.' His crimson eyes were staring at me with concirn.
'I can imagene why you would fear this.' I replied. I still had to learn many things about this universe, as we just entered the interstellar community two years ago.
The aliens were surprisingly similar to humans in bodyshape and size. On my one voyage to Belindores I learned that the Belindorians looked just like humans, only about three inches taller on average and they all had a wierd, purple haircolor. The Torios, as the inhabitants of Toris were called, also looked a lot like humans, but taller, with dark skin, mostly silvery white hair and often crimson eyes, though black eyes weren't uncommon. The inhabitants of a planet called Deron in most cases were tall, had a pale white skin, dark black hair and heterochrome eyes of all colores, some purple, some blue, some a vibrant red and some white. And these were the odd ones out there, Geronians were indistinguishable from humans on the outside, as were most other species. This made relations with them easyer as we could see and understand their facial movements and expressions.
'So, what do you say?' The ambassador asked me.
'How many cases of this happening did you record?' I asked, he could be talking about something that happened like 5 times, but also something that could have happened a million times, it wasn't really clear how many examples he had above 5.
'I don't know the exact number, but it is in access of 2000.' He replied. This was a trustwothy sample size. At least it should be.
'Can you send me all the information on this you have? Maybe our reaserchers can figure something out.' I said. 'I will try to halt the project going online untill they have a conclusion.'
The reactor was initially planned to be put into action in the next week, but I could get the ministry of interior to postbone it for an indetermined amount of time. I hated doing this, this project had swollowed up a lot of power and time for us to plan, and the robots that executed it now had to be kept and stored somewhere while their work was not in use. We couldn't use them for something else either, as we had build the storage of our robots relatively small, so they wouldn't gain a sense of self and rise up. I still had my concirns about that, but I wouldn't try to change it untill I had a better solution.
Today was the day the reactor was initially supposed to be put into use. I was sitting in my office, in front of me a collection of ambassadors from other planets and next to me my secretary to the left and the president to my right.
We were talking about a civil war on a planet in Deron space. An ambassedor of the rebels had just arrived and the ambassador of the Deron government wasn't happy about his 'brother' being here. The Deron called all males of their species brother.
'Your government has no ligitimacy to rule over my people!' The rebel ambassador shouted. We had seated him to our left, the ambassadors of Toris and Belindores between him and the ambassador of the government of Deron. Both of those were strong man and could easily keep the Deron off each other when their temper got them untill our security guards intervened. We weren't doing well at nagotiating right now.
'Brother, your people are my people, and I see our government as legitimate. What basis for legitimacy are you proposing if not our democratic system?' The cool headed Deron ambassador responded.
Just then the minister of the interior came in. Rushing to me and the president.
'What is it?' I asked, but he was out of breath.
'Calm down Josh!' My secretary said.
After about half a minute of us staring at him, he cought his breath and said: 'The new reactor, it blew up!'
'But it wasn't activated, there was nothing there to blow up but the infrastructure.' I responded.
'I have no idea what happened either, just that it is gone along with the whole of Australia.'
| 2017-04-08T01:54:54 | 2017-04-08T01:10:04 | 66 | 14 |
[WP] Whenever a baby is born, he or she is taken to The Armory, an ancient alien temple where each child has a unique weapon bestowed upon them, for use their whole lives. You were given a key. | "What does it unlock?" Verril turned the large metal key over in his hands, bouncing it up and down a few times to get the sense of it.
"I don't know." I take the key back into my hand and reattach it to the necklace before dropping it beneath my shirt. "It was my gift."
"You ever try to unlock anything with it? Maybe its like, a skeleton key or something." Verril suggested, his eyes resting on the small bulge beneath my shirt.
I give him a deadpan stare, "I never thought about that. Here I was carrying it around since I was born and I never even thought to try it on something." I slap my hand to my forehead. "Oh what have I done?!"
Verril rolls his pale grey eyes, "Yeah yeah, hah hah Samus. I just meant that normally the Temple gives you something..." he shrugs, "you know, useful."
"So what did you get that's so great?" It was a rite of passage, sitting around, sharing stories about your gift and what you had done with it. The gifts seemed as diverse as the people who wielded them, each uniquely suited to their holder.
"Me? Oh, just this." He snaps his fingers and a small blue line appears in the air above his hand, expanding into a large gun, "It's a rail gun. It fires dark matter." The weapon looks sinister, black with glowing blue veins of lights spread around it. The vast majority of gifts were offensive in nature, but this was something else.
That was another odd thing about the gifts. They gave you a sense of who you were and who you were meant to be. With something like this Verril had a one way ticket to the frontier. They said we needed a lot of help out there. That the Barboks were pushing into our sector. Maybe Verril and his gun could make a difference.
I didn't know what I was going to do with a frakkin' key. Probably stick around here on Beta\-242. What else could I do? Besides, there was a lot of jobs around here and I could be helpful even if my gift wasn't. Maybe I could even get a spot on the excavation of the temple. They had only uncovered the top layers of the massive underground structure.
"That's um..." I stalled out, trying to find the right word to describe the weapon of mass destruction Verril was cradling in his hands.
"Fierce," Verril offered.
"Yeah, that's fierce." I repeated.
"I know." He tossed the gun in the air and snapped his fingers again. Immediately it faded to a thin blue line and then out of reality. "I'm gonna join the Corps I think. A gift like that should give me a good headstart." I nodded numbly in agreement.
I stood up and dusted off my pants before turning to look toward the temple. "I'm stuck here I think."
Verril shrugs, "It's not so bad here. Still clean. No attacks."
"Yeah." I reply.
We stand silently for a time, watching the dual suns make their way across the sky. "Do you think we'll ever make it back to Earth?"
I shrug. "Barboks got it now. Don't see them giving it up."
"I hope someone gets a gift for that," Verill whispered.
"Anything's possible," I replied with a shrug.
Suddenly the temple exploded into activity, people rushing about like an insect hive under attack. People began to push their way past them, heading toward the temple. Verril reached out and grabbed one, "What's going on? What's the big deal?"
The youth glanced back at him as if he was daft, "Haven't you heard? It's all over the net. New room in the temple. It's huge. Giant door."
"We've found those before," I replied, unimpressed.
"Yeah, but this one's locked." The kid pulled away from Verril and ran down the hill.
Well, that was new.
**PART TWO**
For all of the blessings the temple had granted, it was still a mystery. No known civilization claimed it and the rest of Beta\-242 was devoid of any signs of the people who had built the structure. It was only discovered by chance after the first settlers had arrived, fleeing the advance of the Barboks into the Sol system. The first few that had entered the temple had come out with gifts, strange weapons that seemed to be crafted for the people they were granted to.
Many of the early gifts were designed to help with the establishment of the colony. Some helped to eliminate the swaths of pests that infested the crops, others were designed to neutralize disruptive individuals and keep the peace. It was only after their toehold on Beta\-242 was secured that the gifts began to expand in purpose. Increasingly, the weapons granted seemed designed to ward off some great threat. Most assumed it was for the Barboks along the frontier.
Every gift was meticulously cataloged and analyzed. Not just to discern its abilities, but also to discern its purpose. Perhaps the purpose foretold what was to come, what they would need to prepare for.
My key had caused a great deal of discussion amongst the temple scholars. No key had been provided before and no key had been provided since. Every attempt to uncover the purpose of the key had proved fruitless, but I couldn't help but try to jam it into any locked object he came across.
But this was the first time one of those locks was in the temple.
Verril glanced over at me, "Should we check it out?"
I was already running down the hill, leaving Verril to talk to himself. This was it. I felt it deep within my soul that my time had finally come. I just needed to get there.
My legs carried me faster than I've ever run before. I dodged around slower people as they made their way to the temple, hopping over refuse and stones. A few minutes later and I was mounting the temple steps, making my way to the grand antechamber that led to the Gifting Room. It was already crowded by the time I arrived, people milling about in excited expectation. Any new discovery within the temple was news for the people of Beta\-242, but a lock inspired the imagination.
Breathless, I finally shoved my way through to the guards. Panting, I fished the key out of my shirt and held it before me. "It's me. Samus. The Key Bearer."
The guards looked at each other before the lieutenant gave a nod to the other, who disappeared within. Minutes later he re\-emerged with the Tarken, head scholar, someone I had come to know over the years as he had investigated and tinkered with my key. He was elderly, but his pale blue eyes held a fierce intelligence in them, "Ah, just the boy I was hoping to see." His face cracked into a broad smile, "I can see you're just as eager as I am."
"Do you think it's really for my key?" I gasp out, my breath still coming in heaves.
"We can only try and find out." He grabbed my arm and used it to steady himself. "It is down two floors in a newly excavated area at the core of the temple." I nodded and helped him along as he gave directions.
The temple itself was built of a strange metallic alloy. Despite years of testing, the scholars remained unable to ascertain its nature and composition. It was strong. Impossibly strong. Laser cutters and plasma beams barely made a scorch mark on the material. Our boots sounded out against the flooring, echoing out from us, but growing more muted as we made our way deeper.
Finally, we stood before it. The doors were twice the height of a man and joined seamlessly in the middle leading down to a large locking mechanism with a keyhole in it. I gulped, trying to steady my nerves.
"Should I, you know, just do it?" I ask Tarken.
He nods in response, "We have the recording equipment set up. Get to it boy. Let's see what your destiny holds."
My hand sweaty around the key, I come before the keyhole. It is slightly above my head, and I have to reach up to line up the key with the hole. Taking another steadying breath, I insert it. Relief floods over me as it slides in. So many of the locks had refused the key that I had grown to expect it.
Glancing over my shoulder one more time at Tarken, I turned back and rotated the key. A series of clicks and then a low growling hum as the doors slid apart. Stale, dry air rushed out of the door as it opened.
Beyond was a small room with a chair, a large screen and an object that looked oddly like a visor.
**I HIT THE CHARACTER LIMIT.** [PART THREE](https://www.reddit.com/r/PerilousPlatypus/comments/8fgjd6/story_continuation_the_temple_of_gifts/) **IS OVER ON MY SUB.**
**Platypus out.**
**Want more peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus | The eyes that stared down at me were innumerable and infinite, and I, the sole person of the expedition, could only stare back unblinkingly. Teeth like hot wax dripped down it's mouth in a slow descent of bone and death, solidifying into a variety of points that could not be constructed in nature.
And I, the sole Reader, stared it through the reflection of the text.
It grinned.
-----
The shuttle roared as the inter system engines fought against the the burn of the atmosphere, slowing them down at an alarming rate while breaking their momentum without shattering. It wasn't that I was in any danger; the shuttles to Mars were the best in the known system, if only because every known culture, and every known location used it. If one could afford to go to Mars, one did, as soon as possible.
My eyes drifted to the woman next to me. A dagger swam across her head as she swiped at her data tablet. I couldn't divine it's purpose at first, then realized that whenever she looked up, the pristine blade gave her access to a mirror at a moment's notice, and swam through at her command.
"Which University are you from?" she asked without looking up.
"Ceres," I admitted. "I got a scholarship in the lottery."
Her eyes flicked up from her tablet. The faintest trace of interest. Instantly, her eyes flicked across my body, then around my head. "And where is your..."
It was polite to have your weapon bared at all times. The less surprises, the better, it came from having a well armed populace.
I shot her a nervous grin. "I'm about to get mine."
Which told her everything she needed to know about me. Slum born, probably Secure Identification Numberless, just now completing the pilgrimage that anyone with any sort of money or mobility had happen when they were three, and could just start to read.
Her eyes flicked away from me, towards the red planet below, streaked with yet more red as the atmospheric breaks took over. I looked down at my lap instead of at her.
"Well, I hope you find something you like," She said, brightly. "Mine's named Flector. You'll get a lot of use out of yours, no matter what it is, I promise."
I laughed nervously. "I'm sure, I'm sure."
"And your name?" She asked.
"Shouldn't you give me yours first?"
"Miranda," She said, stilling the slow rotation of the blade around her head. "Yours?"
"Matt," I said, simply. I hoped the scholarship would cover the shuttle fare, but had the distinct feeling that I was going to have to rummage things together to make it work. "You here for the conference?"
"Heh. You know it. They just discovered a new wing of the Armory, can you believe it? Said they found a whole mass of skeletons stuck up in there. Hope they weren't the previous research team!"
"Yeah..." I just hoped I'd be able to get back to Ceres without too much trouble. The outdated data tab sat in the front pocket of my jacket like a lead weight, and buzzed occasionally. Messages from home. Wishing me good luck.
I would need it.
"Seriously. You're going to be fine. We get new Riters all the time."
"Thanks."
The other passengers on the shuttle weren't half as interesting. An elderly professor used his long sword like a cane as he stood up in preparation for landing. A woman's Chakram slowly spun around her arm like a bracelet, unsharpened, adorned, heavily. They might've been married to each other, if only for the utilitarian approach they took to their performance.
Then they landed and the shuttle's engines slid to a halt. The pilot slid open the doors with a heft of his club, painted, festooned with old markers of the Jovan Confederacy. A veteran in one of the conflicts. Glad to see he'd found work after the end of that era.
But that wasn't the point now, was it?
I turned my head and stared over at the temple, a smile on my face. Something about the green metal sang to me, and I stumbled out the door as fast as I could. Miranda trailed behind me, her blade flickering in the sun. What did a college student need with a flying dagger?
"Come on, I want to see what you get, new guy!" Miranda said, sweeping past him. The red martian dirt kicked up into the air as she moved forward, and I slid after her, just as excitedly. What could possibly be mine?
The Armory doors were open wide. In a previous war, I'd studied, there'd been an attempt to block them off. It had ended poorly, with heavy casualties, as the Armory resisted being restricted in any serious way.
But now, my feet tapped against the tile. "uh... where do I go?"
Miranda shrugged. "Just keep walking. You'll find something eventually. It's how the Armory works."
She shot me a mischievous grin. "How do you think this place works, anyway?"
"Well..." I said, sweeping through the halls. "I think it's a repository."
"You don't think it makes anything?"
"Course not. It's an armory, not a foundry. It just has all of these weapons. Some old race put it all together out here, and now it's just waiting for people to pick them up!" I said, firmly.
"Then how are they already personalized?" Miranda reached out and stopped her dagger, flashing me a grin.
"The theory has holes. It's an old academic debate."
"I know, I'm just teasing you about it, Matt. There's no need to sulk."
"I'm not sulking!" I said, my feet passing through the threshold of the next door. And then it hit me, with something like magic. My spine straightened and my eyes glazed over, and I stepped firmly forward. Then turned to the left where there was nothing but an old chipped wall.
It moved firmly to the side, sinking into the floor. Inch by inch. Miranda gasped and followed after me as I strode solidly inside of the chamber and kept right on walking.
Room after room, the dagger flicked around her head, and I kept walking, my heart pounding with each step forward. This is what people had fought over. What the astral slums didn't know, what his family had never been able to afford. The Armory, whirring in front of him unnaturally, walls melting, chambers appearing and disappearing, space distorting, folding, cornering.
Which led me forward, inch by inch, into the final room. It was bereft of the normal ornamentation. Instead of museum pieces holding the weapons of past heroes (when one died, their weapon was returned in most cultures. Some buried them with the bodies, I remembered) there were but bare words written on the walls.
Thousands of times over.
Birthrite.
A single box stood in the center of the room, and I moved mechanically towards it and opened it.
But nothing was inside.
I stared down at it blankly.
"Reach inside?" Miranda suggested.
I did so and the box bit me.
Then the world exploded, dropped a few pills of acid, and things ran in front of my vision, a thousand fold over, swirling about. I was bleeding out of my nose, down my face, my mouth was open, and words were spitting out in rapid succession. My jaw ached from alien words, garbled together. My lips frothed foam.
Miranda stared at me in dawning horror and I felt blood dripping down one eye and across my face, joining my nose.
"Birthrite," I croaked. "The armory is named Birthrite. They wanted us to prepare."
And then out I went like a light.
----
https://www.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/
feel free to comment here! | 2018-04-27T15:29:01 | 2018-04-27T14:17:34 | 176 | 20 |
[WP] Every person has a button they can press at night that deposits a large sum of money to their bank account. However, the first person to press it each night is horrifically killed. | *Are you ready to head out boys?* Jason yells from the living room.
We take out buttons with us, as always, just to be safe. Things used to be much more difficult before The Button was introduced. Since the first night, we haven't failed to go without a payday yet. We're working on our 56th night tonight.
*Alright let's go!* Jason impatiently yells at me.
I've been having second thoughts about getting some new friends recently. Jason and the boys have become so misguided and arrogant since The Button has been paying out.
It's Monday so we do what we always do on Mondays. We pick a nice retirement home the next town over and make our plan. Tonight's innocent victim is an elderly man sound asleep with MSNBC still flickering on his tv.
*We're going to be fast and rich again tonight boys!* Jason yells to us in an attempt to excite us. It works for most of the guys.
*Who wants to do the honors?* he asked.
Nobody steps forward because after all, we are taking another persons life.
*Why don't you do it tonight? You've been down for a while. This will pick you up.* Jason says as he points at me.
I've been selected and the guys are already pushing me forward before I can decline.
I go forward with the plan as intended. I sneak in to the room and give a thumbs up to the boys in the window to signal I've made it in.
I walk over to this man's button. I look at it, look at him. Look at it, look at him.
I go back to the window and signal to the guys.
A scream of terror echoes from the outside of the retirement home.
*Jason always liked to be the first to push his button after a job.*
Tomorrow I find new friends. | The world's population of 7.4 billion is shrunk by .0000049 percent of its population each year due to the button's victims. Meanwhile, 2 billion people starve in the first year as money is devalued; everyone has essentially the same income for doing nothing which results in massive inflation and lack of goods (see Venesuela).
Eventually new currencies are constructed, free of the button's ruined currencies. The world rebuilds. We all wonder what sadistic god visited this plague in guise of blessing on us in the first place. | 2016-07-16T17:51:04 | 2016-07-16T17:32:43 | 3,429 | 52 |
[WP] A rupture in time causes you to be sent back to when you were in preschool. However, you know everything that you did before the switch and were an aerospace engineer for NASA. You are now surrounded by children who eat crayons for lunch. | Playing with Legos remains fun, no matter the circumstance. But it's a little bit different than trying to deal with aerodynamic heating EDL design. On the other hand, Legos don't have viscous dissipative effects, and can be used to make a fire truck; which has pretty much instantly made me the King of Kindergarten.
*Kindergarten*.
It's a fact easier to ignore when I'm playing with Legos than at any other time, but at some point I need to face the issue that this particular situation seems permanent. As best I can remember, three days ago I fell asleep at my desk in Ames Research Center while I waited for a couple of Simulink models to compile. Next thing I know? I'm waking up back in my dad's 1970's "Groove Cave" in my old racecar bed.
So far I've been doing my best to make good of a bad situation, I've got no particular interest in becoming an object of government study. At the same time, I'm not sure I can handle sitting through one more "math" class. My pattern recognition and ability to count *without* my fingers I think scare Mrs. Bell more than they impress her, and part of me is tempted to leave something entertaining like a nonhomogenous differential equation on the board for her. Biggest problem is I can't exactly reach the markers, and I don't trust these animal shaped chairs for shit.
Which brings me to my next complaint, turns out kindergartners don't use "bad words", and dad was mortified when Mrs. Bell asked him to stay after school to explain to him that I had apparently picked up far too colorful a vocabulary. Screw the bitch, I'm not used to these short legs yet, and the fall *hurt*.
Nap time, on the other hand, is *better* than I romanticized it all those years at USC, Michigan, and Ames Research. Why does the adult world censor this stuff? Current plan - unveil my brilliance slowly over time, parley that into childhood celebrity, and somehow lobby for national nap time long before I ever have to rejoin the working world. I'm not going back.
We'll just have to see what day four has in store, at this point I'm 50 / 50 on whether or not I want to see my desk again. | Day 47:
"My" patent has been filed, and after my meeting with the school counselor I've agreed to take a series of tests to determine my ability to advance either several grades or directly to college.
NASA has responded to my letter, showing great interest in my thoughts on stricter safety checks for the insulation on the shuttles, as well as my design for a simpler, far more efficient multiple use rocket.
Kayla referred to me as a "poopy head" this morning, and my assertion that she is an insignificant, snot-nosed fartbox was both noticed by the teacher and a stark reminder that I need only bide my time until the patent is processed and NASA agrees on a consulting fee.
College will be much preferable, though less satisfying this time around as I am still just under a decade away from sexual maturity. I suppose I will simply have to continue studying various subjects of interest until I am physically and legally able to hook up with college girls, around which time I suspect Van Wilder will come out and I'll have to field several months of uncreative comparisons. | 2017-09-26T03:23:07 | 2017-09-26T02:01:30 | 138 | 66 |
[WP] Youre a wizard in the Imperial Army. Most wizards are very ritualistic in their tactics and that is very highly respected but doesn’t give many victories. So you decided to ignore all the long chanting and nonsense and simply immediately kill your opponents with your spells instead. | “Where’s that apprentice?!” Master War Wizard Alejandro shouted.
Yes. That was his title and he got very upset if you didn’t use it. “I am right here. Sir. But I am not an apprentice.”
I may not be a highly decorated Master War Wizard like Alejandro but I was still an imperial wizard, with slightly less honors. Ok way less honors. So I couldn’t chant a fireball into existence. Or dance an ice storm large enough to cover a town. That didn’t make me worse. I blame my teachers and their methods. But hey. I was still here, I just had to babysit the real war wizards. That was still a job right? A boring one. But a job.
Alejandro eyed me. “Don’t correct me, whatever your name is.”
“Baxter.” I responded.
“What?” He seemed confused.
“My name is Baxter.”
He waved his hand. “Whatever. I’m almost ready to begin the siege. Did you pack the food? And the water? And my entertainment?”
I sighed deeply. “How long do you expect this take?”
“A correctly executed siege spell will take all morning if not all day!” He seemed affronted st my assumption he could do it quicker.
I opened my mouth.
“Apprentices don’t speak unless spoken too.” He snapped.
“I’m not an.”
“Silence!” He roared and I sighed again. He pointed through the trees. “The keep us that way.”
I like my job. I like my job. I do. I’m not a pack animal. I’m a respected imperial wizard. If I tell myself this enough today. Maybe I’ll believe it when I go to bed.
We stopped within view of the keep walls. Outside of arrow range, unless they happened to have someone skilled with a long bow. But that wasn’t my problem.
Alejandro ate a small meal before he started, then stood. Faced the keep wall, held out his arms in the classic sun praising pose and started chanting. And chanting and chanting. I yawned. He changed to mountain pose. I started munching on his food. He wouldn’t notice.
Three hours later, and nothing had changed, except Alejandro drank some water and ate some more food. Then resumed his chanting.
“Oh for Fury sake!” I shouted as the sun started to go down. I stomped forward, pushed Alejandro to the side and pointed at the keep. “Ruin.” I said very clearly. And the keep wall exploded.
Alejandro started at me in horror. “That’s not possible!”
“Apparently it is. Master War Wizard.”
“You must be demon!” He held up a warding hand.
“No I’m just bored. Maybe if all you wind bags got right to the point we wouldn’t still be in this thousand year war!”
His eyebrows raised in shock. “There is no honor in pointing!”
“Prove it!”
“You’re commanding officer will hear of this!” He threatened.
“Good! Maybe I’ll get a raise. And you know what. Pack your own stuff back. I quit.” | My mentor taught me his methods, shaped my abilities in his image. He lectured me on the men we would save, the benefits and horrors of war. The differences in strategy between the Queen's Imperial Army and her King's Royal Guards.
He made me find the Elder Birch bark atop a mountain where the wind breezed like a summer's night, so our archers would shoot straight and true. I was asked to deliver three black spotted piglets so our horses would run tirelessly and dauntless. But those were the ways of old. Rows of men walked, relieved of death's horrowing presence, by the down of a stillborn swan.
Those were the times of old. Before gunpowder, musket and cannons. I have seen many a man walk fearlessly into the volleys. Horses ran with their dead riders flailing in their straps past the Queen's adversaries. I have seen Champions of The Royal Guard, beasts of men, stride towards their lines, plugged with bullet after bullet until their towering posture was nothing but a bulwark on the battlefield.
I will not stand powerless by the ways of old. My magic will modernize the Queen's Imperial Army. My spells will return vigor to the hearts of the King's Royal Guard. My apprentices staggered in cowardice when I asked them to fell the Elder Birch forest, to sacrifice a pregnant black spotted pig, and to empty all swan nests in the empire, like eager raptors. My magic needed more mana. More power.
That day marked Resolution Day. An Imperial festival. The day the Imperial Army stabilized the entire continent in one, sweeping battle. My gaze fell upon my forearm, adorned with beautiful jewelry and golden flowers where my hand used to be. Such a horrific metaphor, I thought, as I tried to go back to sleep, and nightmares of burning men began to play in front of my eyes. | 2020-08-15T07:06:38 | 2020-08-15T06:10:30 | 28 | 20 |
[WP] Some say that your power is future sight. Others insist that you have superhuman intellect. They're wrong. Your power is the ability "Quicksave." | "I really dont know why I have it, but I have it. Its equally annoying and useful, but more annoying to be honest.
It all started when I was a little child, I did it for fun too. My brother ate the last chocolate donut and I was mad, so mad, and thats when I activated with out noticing first, once I realized what I had done I ran downstairs, grab my donut and ate it just when he was arriving from school. He was so mad, but it was so worth it.
Oh, the times where I used it to make jokes and pranks and cheat on exams... Those days are really far behind, isnt it?"
I grab my backpack and stood in the bus stop, my earphones where blasting my favorite song, some people where around me waiting for either a bus or a cab, and then it happen: that damn menu appear. I sighed, thinking that maybe today I could take a rest and dont use it at all.
Maybe today was the day I was going to let go without saving anything, without having to relieve something. Yeah..maybe today was going to be different.
But no. Against my better judgement I mentally chose the "Save" option. Just as everything got into a new file, I saw a kid running to the street, chasing a dog that got off its leash, both running without looking. I braced myself, close my eyes and all I heard where the terryfing screamings of all the people around me, the brakes of a bus and just something warm hitting me on the cheek. I didnt want to open my eyes, I knew what that warm thing was, so I just open the f***** menu and chose "Load->Last file" and waited for it to load.
*****************
"I really dont know why I have it, but I have it. Its equally annoying and useful, but more annoying to be honest.
It all started when I was a little child, I did it for fun too. My sister ate the last bad of chips and I was mad, so mad, and thats when I activated with out noticing first, once I realized what I had done I ran downstairs, grab my donut and ate it just when she was arriving from the mall. She was so mad, but it was so worth it.
Oh, the times where I used it to make jokes and pranks and cheat on exams... Those days are really far behind, isnt it?"
I carefully inspect everything around me, and saw the little kid with his dog on a leash, his parents not that far from him. I walked calmly, fixing my earphones, when I heard a little gasp coming from the kid. I quickly went ahead and grab the leash, stopping both of them on their tracks.
"Thank you so much, mister!" said the little kid with a wide smile
"You welcome, just grab the leash a little tigther next time, ok?"
Both parents thanked me and I returned to my position, and just as my bus was starting to arrieve, I realize...
"Shit, my bus pass" i said rubing my temples. I heavily sigh and I open the menu once again.
****************
"I really dont know why I have it, but I have it. Its equally annoying and useful, but more useful than annoying.
It all started when I was a little child, I did it for fun too. My dad drank the last of chocolate milk and I was mad, so mad, and thats when I activated with out noticing first, once I realized what I had done I ran downstairs, grab my chocolate milk and drank it just when he was arriving home. He just laugh and said "Damn it! I was about to drink it! You beat me to it, champ!"
Oh, the times where I used it to make jokes and pranks and cheat on exams... Those days are... Wait.
Why does it says that my saves have been corrupted? | At least I get to keep the same clothes
I’ve done this at least 3 times today and each time it only gets more annoying. I should feel bad for doing this to Nancy but she wouldn’t stop bugging me. Sorry little sis but it had to be like this
( Load file)
“ File 4”? What was that. That must have been when Mom was mad at me for skipping school. I should delete that one.
(File Deleted)
Alright now that I don’t have to worry about all that I can choose a new save point. Don’t worry I don’t get a infinite amount of these. I get 10, one for each finger pretty much. Once I get to 10 I’ll be found out. The highest I’ve went is 8 but that was only because I was cheating on a test. Either way I have to choose a file before it chooses for me. And the last time it did that I was in the middle of a state test with the answers in my hand.
( File 3 chosen)
Now we’re back and Nancy can finally leave me alone but there’s one issue at hand. I had taken some money from my girlfriends purse in File 1 and I should probably pay it back before I delete that file. I went up to my mother’s room and took 30 dollars from her purse and snapped
( Which File would you like to open)
I needed file 1 but the save time was wrong. I had saved it at 11:27 PM last Tuesday but the time read 11:34 PM last Tuesday. Going through the other 2 I still had none of the times matched up. I guess it really didn’t matter because if anything went wrong I could just snap out.
( File 1 chosen)
Landing in Morgan’s room like this wasn’t normal. Usually whenever I took from someone I made sure to save somewhere they weren’t but I had been in a hurry. I put the money back and began to climb out the window when my voice said “ Cmon Morg I didn’t take your money”
God damn it I can’t believe this. I saved down there? Why? Why? Why? Did I not think about what would happen if I came back. I gave Myself the rule years ago “ no saving at someone else’s house”. Especially not at someone’s house that you steal from. I could hear the door open as My voice said “ You idiot” and Morgan began to shout and scream. We both insisted it was okay and then turned to each other, arguing over our collective stupidity. I had enough and snapped my finger but the other version of me snapped and I said “ you have 9.... and since I’m here I’m 10. So now”. | 2020-12-15T15:22:13 | 2020-12-15T13:59:51 | 44 | 19 |
[WP] Your pointless superpower is that you know how many people’s lives you save with your actions. One day, at a Subway, you tell the cashier you want your sandwich on Italian bread, and you’re suddenly informed that you just saved five billion people. | It was a bright sunny day in Miami, and for once, not too humid. Kimmy walked into the corner Subway, smiling to herself, thinking about how nice it was to be able to reach restaurants by foot. She was in a great mood. Kimmy approached the counter and gave her order to Sal, the regular clerk.
“I’ll have the ham and Swiss... on Italian”
Kimmy felt a warmth, mixed with tingles of chilly ice spread through her body. She had somehow just saved 5 billion people. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did.
Sal looked at Kimmy and said, “Ah, switching it up today huh? You usually get the flatbread.”
“Yeah, I know Sal, but I’m in such a great mood, the sun is shining, things are going really well. I just felt inspired to change it up. You know how I’m usually so rigid with routine.”
“Hmm...” murmured Sal. “Inspired, by the sun shining huh? Switching it up?”
“Yeah Sal! It’s a great day.”
Sal finished making Kimmy’s sandwich and bid her a good day.
———————————
15 years later
Kimmy woke up to a beautiful sunny day in Miami, and for once, it wasn’t all that humid. She walked a few blocks to her favorite coffee shop and scrolled through the news while she waited in line.
Kimmy scanned the headlines and dropped her jaw as she read, “Engineer and physicist Sally Benjamin releases open source code for 3D printing solar panels. Credits inspiration to a customer at Subway job who changed her order because of the sun”
Kimmy still remembered the 5 billion. That was by far the largest number she had ever sensed. Kimmy continued reading and discovered Sal had been working her way through undergrad at the subway, and had been reading about solar panel design. Apparently Kimmy switching up her order due to the sun had sparked an idea in Sally. This grew into a reality and now affordable solar panels we’re going to be available everywhere and could be assembled on site. This opened up the possibility of generating more reliable energy all over the world.
Kimmy looked out the window, smiled, and was glad her contribution to save 5 billion people had been a bright outlook on life, and a deviation from her regular routine. She approached the counter and ordered her coffee.
“Hey Jean, you know, I think I’ll switch it up today and have a fancy coffee. Can you do some kind of milk steam art?”
Jean laughed, “Oh Kimmy, you crack me up. Sure, I can make you some “milk steam art” Why no plain black today?”
“Just inspired by something that happened a long time ago that now involves 3D printers and the sun.” Kimmy breathed as the warm tingly sensation, and ice cold tingles ran through her body. She had just saved 84 people.
“Inspired to get milk steam art because if something that happened long ago and has to do with the sun and 3D printers huh? You’re something else Kimmy.” Jean said, but there was a strange look in her eye, as though something had just clicked. | Meanwhile, a massive space fleet approaches Earth...
"Ey, yo, Emperor Vinnie," called the armored alien, smoking a cheap cigar.
Emperor Vinnie, ruler of the Badabing Galactic Empire, sat on his throne (no not that kinda throne) on the bridge of the command ship. He casually rubbed his bare arms - the armor only covered his torso and shoulders. He grabbed a cigarette from the pack concealed in the armor's shoulder holder. "Gimme a light" he said.
The cigar smoking alien lit the Emperor's cigarette with his own cigar. Emperor Vinnie took a few puffs. "A'ight, watsa matta?"
"Emperor Vinnie," said the cigar alien, "you wanted that we tell you when we're approaching that blue planet."
"Yeah," Vinnie grunted, taking another puff.
"We're approaching. We'll be there in a few minutes, ya know?"
Emperor Vinnie puffed his last puff, tossed the cigarette to the floor, smothered it with his right foot. "OK. Remember what I said. We pick up one guy - the planetary representative. If he's a gumba, den the blue planet it OK - we leave 'em alone. If not..." Emperor Vinnie shrugged his shoulders.
"Ey," replied Cigar alien, "what can we do if the surface of the planet is bombarded with atomic death beams?"
Emperor Vinnie smiled. "Yeah. Remember what my Nana Vinnieyana always told me."
"Right, Boss. If he eats like a gumba, he's a gumba."
Back on Earth at the Subway, I wonder how I saved 5 billion people as I take a bite of my Italian sub - something blots out the sun. | 2018-11-17T18:37:15 | 2018-11-17T17:00:19 | 180 | 131 |
[WP] We live in a simulation, and we sleep because they can't render everyone at once. You stay up for days, and begin to see things and people. They call themselves the maintenance crew. | Back in Ancient Rome, sometime before Jesus was born, there was a myth circulating, and it went something like this: if you should be awake for the entirety of seven days and seven nights, you might see the silhouette of a dead man walking the street. And if you do... *run*.
They called him Insomnis -- *the sleepless one* -- and it is said he found a way to talk to the Gods.
Back when Insomnis was still a man, he swore he would find a way to reach the Gods and be with them always. He believed that the way to the Gods was not through worship, but through dreams, and so he trained himself to control his mind during his sleep; to control his existence inside his dreams. For seven years he explored the constraints of the night realms, finding -- probing -- the edges and limits. It is said the Gods warned him, told him that he must look no further, for there are realities that are not meant for mortals; truths that are sealed in the darkness and locked away in the void. But he did not listen to their warnings and instead was encouraged by them. He saw it as a test of faith that they had set him. He began to drug himself, ensuring the deepest of sleeps known to the Romans. His control of his dreamstate grew ever stronger, and the borders of the night realm began to weaken before him; cracks and fissures appeared that he battered his mind against until they grew into a hole he could slip through.
What he saw there is unclear in the stories, but they all agree he drifted into the Bacchanalian realm of the Gods. There, he saw a vision not meant for our kind; *he saw into the eyes of Jupiter himself*, and Jupiter was displeased with him. Jupiter told him that next time he slept, because of him, the lights of existence would be extinguished.
He woke in a fit, screaming and sweating blood. From that moment, he resolved never to sleep again - he never dared to shut his eyes and even ripped off his eyelids for fear of falling. But as time passed and his madness grew deeper, both his body and mind faded to a place between the realms of the Gods and the planes of the mortals, until he existed *nowhere*, except in the glimpses of our madness.
I mention this story because I haven't slept in eight nights now. I mention it because *Insomnis* whispers to me as he sits on the end of my bed, his red pupils pulsating in the darkness of his silhouette. He tells me that the stories were wrong; it wasn't the Gods that drove him insane. There was something far worse than they, that he began to see in his waking hours. The Gods of the Gods. A reality beyond reality.
He says now that I know about them, the maintenance men will come for me; that I can never sleep, or they will catch me. That existence will be snuffed like a candle, should I sleep.
He hands me the knife and tells me I cannot go back; I cannot sleep again. He stretches my eyelid out, and with a trembling hand, I raise the knife and cut.
---
more of my stories on /r/nickofnight
| It all started staying up late one night doing my homework. I was just sitting there, doing an essay when this light flashes outside my window. It seemed so real, too, not just a hallucination from me staying up the past 29 hours doing this essay. For a split-second, too, I saw this man. He looked so real, unlike all the other men you see in dreams. Also, he looked... different. I had read a while back that everyone you see in your dreams looks the same as somebody you have seen in real life. This, however, was totally different. I had never seen this man before in my life. He was holding a flashlight, walking briskly along the sidewalk. I had turned off all the lights in my bedroom and put my monitor brightness to the lowest setting as to not ruin my eyes. My window outside had an automatic detection light, which I usually turned off before I went to bed, but tonight I had not.
Now, let me tell you. This is a gated community. You don't see anybody walking around at night whatsoever, and if you do, usually they stay within the general area of one's house. This man was not like any of my neighbors.
As he passed my window, I do not think he noticed me until the automatic light turned on. The light shined upon his back, revealing these words: "**MAINTENANCE**". He became startled by the light, turned, and we locked eyes.
His eyes were so crazy. They weren't like anything I've ever seen before in my life. Blue, green, red, even orange. Everything color you could ever see mixed in one vibrant color. In the 2 seconds or so that our eyes locked, his eyes widened, he stopped in his tracks, brought his watch up to his mouth, and said these words: "Shit. HQ, we've got one. Bring in the team." | 2017-10-29T11:40:01 | 2017-10-29T11:03:23 | 2,797 | 89 |
[WP] A time traveler and an immortal keep bumping into each other across the ages. | "Who are you?" The woman asked the man.
"I'm your friend." He replied.
Carrying the wounded woman from the burning city they passed by corpses with arrows still protruding from some of them. The screams of fighting in the nearby streets could be heard but the man expertly maneuvered his way through alleys and narrowly missed angry soldiers by mere seconds. He seemed to know exactly when a mob would pass or when an arrow would fly. Dodging flames and collapsing walls he made it out while still carrying the woman. Silently they disappeared into the night.
The young woman awoke to the sound of grinding. Beside her was a campfire and the man sharpening his sword. Her wounds were bandaged and a meal was prepared and placed close to her. He gestured for her to eat and without further hesitation she almost inhaled it.
"Thank you for saving me. My master shall repay---"
He interrupted: "Your master is dead. Your entire village was burned to the ground and everyone killed, even the children." He paused for a moment to let the news sink in. "Listen, i know what you are. You've lived for two hundred years now and go from master to master as a slave. After some years you escape and move on before they suspect your secret."
The woman's heart raced and she looked for the nearest weapon to grab in case she needed to fight. A lot of people thought she was some sort of demon and tried to kill her.
"Calm down, Eirene. I'm not here to harm you. I'm returning a favor. You're going to save my life, so i came here to save yours." He smiled.
She thought for a minute, "Do you need a slave?"
"No, but i could still use your help."
The man produced a crystal from his sack that looked like a jewel.
--------------------------------------
I got off the sky train and onto the platform. Earth gravity was a little stronger than i expected but i had trained extensively for it. I much preferred mars but I had just got admitted to the most prestigious university on earth. My parents expected me to go so here i was. My brother dropped out of college but eventually became owner of a casino on pluto. I thought that if things didn't work out. I could always go work for him.
Glancing out the window I saw the pacific ocean for the first time. Two kilometers beneath the floating city I stood on it was blue and slightly dirtier than i expected from seeing it on my holographic novels.
"JAMES?" A female voice called out.
A spun around to see a young woman stare at me in astonishment.
Her eyes opened wider and huge smile contorted her face to a degree that i thought her jaw would fall off.
"It is you!" She lunged at me before i could react and gave me a strong hug and kissed me on the forehead. "You're so young! and cute!"
"Ma'am? Do i know you?" I asked.
She was beautiful and I was pretty sure i would have remembered her face if i had seen it before.
"It's me, Tabitha!... Catherine? Angelica? Mimi? Irene? You don't recognize any of those names?" She asked.
I shook my head.
"Oh lord... this is it. The last time i'll ever see you. You told me about this day." Tabitha said.
"If you don't start making sense i'm going to leave." I started to back away.
"It's a very long story, and i'll tell you the whole thing over drinks. Are you free?" she asked.
"I don't know..." I hesitated. She was pretty and a pretty girl asking me out was a dream come true. But her forwardness was a bit off-putting.
"Oh! I almost forgot." She reached into her bag and dug down to the bottom. "I kept it. Even i thought i would lose it someday but i kept it. Looks like i can return the favor. You're going to save my life, so today I get to save yours."
She handed me a diamond walled box. Such boxes were almost invulnerable and most often used to store very valuable or important objects. They were not things just given to complete strangers. I took the box and opened it to find a quartz data storage cube. The cubes stored data encoded inside the quartz crystal and could last millions of years. But the density was a mere fraction of modern quantum-wave devices so hardly anyone ever used them except archivists and libraries.
"What's on it?" I asked.
She smiled. "Everything you're going to do,"
---------------------------------
I sat at the restaurant almost trembling as i waited. I had moved into my dorm and settled into my first week at the university before i finally had time to load the cube into a reader and look at the contents. They were journal entries, records, observations and videos all recorded by me. I knew time manipulation was a fringe science and only a handful of labs were researching it, but to find proof like this shook me to the very core. Even stranger was that some of the journal entries spoke of Tabitha. Was she a time traveler? She contacted me this morning and wanted to talk over drinks.
She walked in and sat right across from me without saying a word. I expected a greeting or even a wave, but all she did was gaze at me and study my face for a good minute. It was as if she hadn't seen me in years or was just capturing a moment in her mind.
I finally broke the silence. "Who are you?"
"I'm your friend."
(*I might expand if there is interest*) | "History repeats itself." The saying must have been thousands of years old thought Titus as his eyes lingered on the inscription under the doorway leading to the K.R.O.N.O.S. jump room. Titus approached the large display and logged the last machine off for the night. The soft blue light quickly dimmed and the humming of the temporal governor ceased at the other end of the room. Titus removed the K.R.O.N.O.S. key and mentally consulted his nightly to-do list one last time before clocking off. As he stood an orange light appeared in his periphery and commanded his attention. It was the soft orange glow of a machine in boot sequence. There were no more arrivals scheduled for the evening, he had checked the log twice. Who turned this machine on? The machine quickly booted and the blue light announced that it was ready to receive. Titus approached the mouth of the receptical and the blue light changed to green. "A jump, admin is going to be pissed." Titus thought. The machine hummed faster and the green light strobed to indicate a full jump transfer.
Titus pulled the cover back on the receptical and was surprised to see a young man with his chest heaving and hands grasping out toward Titus. He helped the man out and to the recovery bay reflexively. As he did, the bright orange of the man's shirt told Titus that this would be the only time he'd see this young man. What a shame to waste an apprenticeship at the esteemed K.R.O.N.O.S. institute on an off-the-books jump thought Titus. He skoffed as he dropped the man to the recovery chair.
"Who are you?" Titus demanded flatly.
"Phred Cassock" he replied.
Titus threw the man a towel. "Well Phred, you just performed an unlicensed jump, you're lucky this machine decided to boot up when it did." The brown curls of the man's hair sprung back into place as he wiped his head down with a heaving effort. "I've got to report this to admin." Titus croaked, his arms crossed.
"After what I saw, I don't even care" the man managed to say as he reclined into the chair. Titus looked over his shoulder.
"What'd you see? You know what, it doesn't matter, get the hell out of here and enjoy your last night as a free man."
"I was right, it was him." The man replied as Titus walked to the door ushering his unwelcome guest along. "I saw him again, common era this time. He didn't recognize me at fist but I recognized him." Titus' face was unreadable but he paused.
"You've jumped before this?"
Phred stared back hesitating. "I've seen the same man three times now over the course of 7,000 years. It's not a coincidence. His name is Dev."
"Temporal stalking isn't a thing orange-shirt." Titus said opening the peronium security door.
"No, not stalking. He wasn't licensed, I've checked."
"There are no unlicensed jumps, the system doesn't -"
"No, he wasn't a jumper." Phred interrupted. "He was some kind of holy man. A public figure just like last time. But this time he acted different. Callous, jaded."
"So?" Titus spat.
"He's not a jumper, he's been alive the whole time. How else could he be a historical figure without disrupting the temporal flow?"
It took a moment for this impossible statement to unravel its meaning in Titus' overworked head. "No" was all he thought to say.
Phred continued, "it seemed the world had beaten the spark out of him but he was happy to see me, I could tell. He's almost figured out the question."
Titus couldn't bear the nonsense any longer. "Out!" he yelled as the young man in the orange shirt jumped. "Your story needs some work before you get picked up by KPD tomorrow."
Phred closed his mouth. He was right. There were more pressing matters than explaining to this glorified security guard that he'd found a way to stop the temporal inevitability. Dev was the key. He needed to jump again. Tonight. | 2015-11-22T18:11:25 | 2015-11-22T17:08:47 | 69 | 17 |
[WP] You are the last person to die on Earth before the secret of immortality is unlocked. Turns out, there is paradise in the afterlife. After a hundred or so years, you decide to check in on the people still on Earth.. | “I would *hate* to be immortal,” I declared, sprawled across Allen’s lap as the credits for *Only Lovers Left Alive* began to crawl up the TV screen.
“Oh?” his tone was indulgent as he began stroking my hair, sensing a righteous rant on the way. “And why’s that?”
“Well, think about it. Having to watch everyone you care about die before you do - and knowing you’ll never see them again. Witnessing wars and people being crappy to each other every day - that’s something that will never change. You’d never get a break from it. I think there’s a reason we’re meant to die.”
He was quiet for a moment, and at his lack of response I thought he hadn’t heard me. But when I turned to lay on my back I could see he was frowning in thought. “Well, I wouldn’t mind. Think of the other things you could do - all the books you could read, the languages you could learn. You could do every single thing you’d never had the time to do otherwise. You’d meet so many new people.”
“Who you’d have to say goodbye to every hundred years! Wouldn’t you get tired of that?”
“Only if it works that way,” he countered. “Am I the only person who has immortality in this scenario?”
“Yes,” I said curtly. “And you’re not allowed to have fun without me. And no screwing women born within a hundred years on either side of my existence.”
He laughed at that. “Then at least I’d have some peace and quiet.” Noticing the scowl on my face, he grinned and forced me into a sitting position to wrap his arms around me. “I’d accumulate enough money to build a house in the middle of nowhere like a monk, and dedicate myself to just learning new things and climbing mountains, how does that sound?”
“You’d be bored shitless.”
“Only boring people get bored.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Well, while you live forever, maybe try not to forget me and spare a thought for me and everyone else who ends up locked in purgatory, or hell, or heaven, or wherever it is we end up when we die.”
“*If* there is an afterlife.”
“Heathen.”
Again he laughed, kissing me on the nose. “I promise if I ever become immortal I will never forget you. How could I? I wouldn’t be able to find your brand of crazy in a million years.”
________
I thought that when I died that would be that - the afterlife would wipe clear any kind of individual identity, memories and stresses that made me human, and I’d exist as a kind of spirit, incapable of feeling anything beyond some kind of divine peace and acceptance that there was someone else I used to be.
I don’t know where I got that idea from.
The conversation with Allen plays repeatedly in my head as I see earth for the first time in more than a century. I had wanted to see the look on his face when they told me I’d be the last person to cross the mortal threshold, to come back briefly in the aftermath of my accident and say ‘Ha! Would you look at that, there is an afterlife!’ But I was lucky enough that they even let me return, just this once, just to see how the unruly were doing.
I eventually find him, far away from the cities and technological decay in one of the last remaining reserves. It’s a modest cottage overlooking the river, and if I’d had the ability to cry I would have. To think, he had actually taken off to become that hermit surrounded by books and mountains.
He is hunched over a desk working on some intricate design, looking decades older than when I had left him when I died. I hadn’t been expecting that, and the story of Tithonus’ curse comes to mind. Immortality without eternal youth.
“Allen?”
He pauses, and slowly looks up from his work. I can see the thoughts frantically trying to arrange themselves behind his eyes, as he struggles to put a name to me.
“Sophie,” he manages eventually. “Come to haunt me from the grave?”
“Only for a little while,” I nod towards the contraption in his hands. “What’s that?”
“Just another puzzle box, started inventing my own. Easy enough to do once you get started.” He tosses it over his shoulder and the cloud in his eyes gives way to the familiar glint I know so well. “So have you come to collect me then? Did they make you the angel of death?”
“No, you can’t die anymore, remember?”
“Right, yes, of course. Well, as you can see immortality is not all it’s cracked up to be.” He waves dismissively at his body. “If I’d known it was going to be like this, I would have thrown myself in front of that car right behind you.”
“Don’t say things like that.” I reach down to pick up the puzzle box, but of course, I can’t. “They can still fix it. They might reverse it. They might make it better.”
“It’s been two hundred years, Soph, I’ve done everything I wanted to do. And the one thing I want to do now, I can’t.”
I want nothing more than to touch him, I want so badly to take him with me. But I can’t. As if reading my thoughts, he gives me a bittersweet smile and reaches out to trace the outline of my face.
“I doubt they have room for a heathen like me up there anyway.”
Despite everything, the comment makes me giggle and soon we’re both laughing, until his breaths become ragged and his eyes cloud over again, the recognition disappearing from his eyes.
“Who are you?” | I peeked my transparent head through the clouds towards the city below. Ah, just as dreary as I remembered it. The gloom and smell of rain in the air filled me with nostalgia. True, I had a rough life down here, even by earthly standards, but I had some good memories. As I flew closer, I remembered splashing in the puddles like the children below me did.
But I also had some unpleasant memories. I remembered feeling cold, scared and uncomfortable. There were so many cruel, violent people on earth. I definitely wouldn't trade living in Paradise for anything.
I heard the familiar sound of an ambulance sounding its alarms and making its way down the street. "How odd," I said aloud. "Why on earth do they have ambulances if they are supposed to be immortal?" Suddenly quite curious, I decided to follow it.
I arrived at the hospital right after the ambulance and hovered above the ground. All of the pedestrians and doctors and nurses couldn't see me. But the old man on the stretcher could. "Holy cow!" he exclaimed. "Look at that weird looking kid!"
"Please stay calm sir," the tired nurse said in an exasperated voice. "That's just the pain killers we gave you. There is no one there." The old man swore loudly and they brought him inside.
After they had left him alone in a hospital room, I spoke to him. "Can you still see me? I was told you wouldn't be able to, but I am real," I assured him. He folded his arms. "You are not real," he said obstinately.
After a few minutes in silence he asked if this was "how it started."
"How what starts," I asked innocently. "Oh you know what I'm talking about. When the mind starts to go and you starting hearing and seeing things. Then you just live out the rest of your days in a loony bin. The body can be intact with the mind all scrabbled. Although, in my case, I guess intact is a bit of an exaggeration. This will be my fifth hip replacement."
"Oh no! Don't worry! I live in Paradise, the afterlife. You aren't crazy," I assured him.
"Oh I see, you're a ghost and I'm completely sane. That's fantastic," he quipped. "Well I suppose if I'm going to accompanied by imaginary people from now on, I might as well get along with them. Now tell me little ghost, what is your paradise like?"
"Well, it's quite lovely. Everyone is kind and there is no violence. No one feels pain anymore and no one feels hatred. You are free to do as you like all day long. There are beaches, waterfalls, forests and all sorts of things," I explained.
"Yes well it all sounds very sweet," he said patronizingly. Then his face crinkled and he bit his bottom lip. He continued in a shaky voice. "Perhaps it is best that my wife ended up there instead of being stuck here. This world is full of problems. Sure I'll live forever, but in constant pain from a body not meant to last this long. Funnily enough, I figured I would be in poor health for the majority of my life. Yet I decided to take the immortality pill anyway. They released it to the public a year after my wife died. I cursed every deity I could think of. The older I get, the more I realize how much pain she was spared. Most people in the world are miserable now. But they would rather be stuck in a miserable place than face the uncertainty that death brings."
I felt a pain in my heart. I remembered this emotion, though I hadn't felt it in 100 years. It was sorrow. I felt so sorry for the old man.
I rubbed my hands together and then spread them apart. "Take a look at this," I urged him. In the space between my hands, I saw an older woman. She was horseback ridding through an enormous green field. She was smiling and laughing as the sun shone on her face.
Tears filled his eyes. "That's her, that's my Emily," he whispered. Outside I heard a loud rumble of thunder. That's my cue. "I have to go back, I'm sorry," I told the old man.
"Don't apologize, thank you so much. That meant more to me than you will ever understand. Thank you little ghost," he whispered. And with that, I flew into the stormy sky, promising myself I would visit him again in a hundred years.
| 2016-12-17T12:23:25 | 2016-12-17T12:02:58 | 340 | 118 |
[WP] You die and find yourself in hell, where apparently everyone spends time to negate their sins before they go to heaven. The guy in front of you, who cheated on his wife, gets 145 years. Feeling like you led a fairly average and peaceful life, you’re not worried. You get 186,292 years. | My mouth dropped open. 186,292 years?? I had lived the typical life of marriage, kids, I even regularly went to church! Even the clerk looked a little surprised.
“How is this possible?” I ask.
“Hold on and I’ll look at your case file.” He replied while thumbing through some documents.
The guy behind me cleared his throat impatiently. Why someone was impatient to get their sentence was beyond me. The guy ahead had been banging old women while married and only got 145 years! I thought my seemingly boring life would get me no more than 50 if you counted all my road rage incidents against me. My attention snapped back to the clerk when he made a small noise of understanding.
“Well?” I prompted.
“So the thing is you can accumulate sin over your lifetimes.” He said.
“Lifetimes? Like multiple? How did I not already serve all those sins?”
“It looks like you were believed in Hinduism in your past lives. All of them in fact. You were reincarnated every time you died and your soul’s sins just built up. This time you were Christian so instead of reincarnation you have to serve your sentence and then go to heaven.” He seemed pleased to have found the solution.
“Hinduism?? Why should that matter? Shouldn’t my soul have come here anyways the first time. You’re telling me I’ve lived multiple lives?” My voice edged near hysteria but I couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Look I don’t have time to educate you on all the different complexities of the soul. The basics is whatever you believe while alive is mostly what happens. Atheists just cease to exist, those who believe in Heaven and Hell serve time for their sins then go on up, and Hinduism believers get reincarnated. Now your time doesn’t start until you get in the elevator and there’s a line of people behind you. Sorry about your luck.” He dismissed me, pointing to a set of steel elevator doors.
I walked away from the counter slowly. Almost two hundred thousand years. I pressed the button to open the elevator doors, my hand shaking as I thought of what might lie ahead. Heaven better be worth it.
EDIT: Wow ok this was my first time responding to a writing prompt and I truly didn’t expect so many people to respond or even read this. First of all thank you for all the comments of support and constructive criticism. I am now aware I should have done more research before posting as I was not as aware of the intricacies of Buddhism and Hinduism as I should have been. I apologize for the plot holes and more importantly if I offended any religion. My religious knowledge isn’t great as I’m an Atheist but I still had fun writing this. | I racked my brains, I was by no means a saint, but then, who is? I thought back to all the times I didn't intervene in other people's drama, because it was none of my business. Maybe I should have tried harder to help people in those situations? I couldn't help it that I didn't care that the husband of Rachel in accounts was also banging Claire in sales. Sure, I listened to the bitching, but I didn't care. I thought of all the times I sat at my desk aimlessly browsing the internet because I just didn't give a damn about my job. I began to wonder, is apathy a crime punishable by nearly 200,000 years in hell?The more I thought about it the more I realised every negative interaction in my life came from being apathetic. The arguments with my husband because I didn't care what we had for dinner, or what we watched on TV. The daily grind because of my aforementioned job. The lost friendships because I just did not give a shit about their mundane dramas.I should have cared more. I tried, I really tried. Caring is hard. I should have told Claire in sales she was a whore and Rachel in accounts she deserved better. I should have tried harder at work. I should have put more effort into deciding what to have for dinner. 200,000 years is a long time to live with that regret. Day 1 is not the time to start caring.
​ | 2018-09-26T06:51:55 | 2018-09-26T06:12:40 | 3,199 | 153 |
[WP] It's Christmas Eve 2038. The world has been destroyed due to nuclear war, but Santa, being immortal, has survived, and plans to deliver presents to the few remaining humans locked in their fallout shelters. | *Jingle Bells crackled from Santa's digital radio... The quality restored as he neared the shelter*
The portly, red faced man whipped his undead reindeer (yes the post apocalyptic world brought with it crippling decay to even the high deities such as Santa) with the sheer force of a thousand winters. **crack** **crack** **crack** The reindeer cried out in pain and sped up, they moved to a full flying gallop while Santa held the map close to his face. The storm was howling, he could barely hear his thoughts let alone read the map. He cracked the whip again. Rudolf's luminous red nose acted as a beacon for any weary travellers that might be braving the cold night, though Santa doubted anyone but him could survive out here. He steamed straight ahead still following the gentle sound of Christmas music blasting from his radio.
A small group of survivors had made Lapland their home, deep in the snowy forest they were as far as anyone could be from the ruins of civilisation that acted as a constant reminder of the days gone past. They were doing their best to live on in a new world that could forget the mistakes of the past, however this new world was harsh and deadly. Whether they had been naughty or nice was beyond reason, in Santa's eyes still being alive in the deep Winter was enough to deserve a visit.
Santa saw a dim light coming from within the trees up ahead, the radio was playing *Fairytale of New York* crispy as he pulled the sled down towards the forest edge. There were no chimneys to climb down anymore, no fireplaces to land on and burn his shoes, no carrots for the reindeer, no cookies for himself. But the people, still believing in the Christmas Saint, lit a bonfire with as much wood as they could collect to show that there was still hope.
Santa left the sled and the reindeer and crept through the forest to the campsite, all were sound asleep despite the roar of the wind. Over his shoulder was a sack full of gifts that he had crafted himself. The elves had all perished in the fallout (poor immune systems unfortunately). He took the sack and entered each house leaving the gifts under whatever makeshift Christmas tree had been made. In the last house as he was placing the gifts down he noticed a small boy lying on his side, eyes wide open. Santa lifted his finger up to his lip, smiled and crept out. He knew as he left that so long as there were people alive they would still believe, in him and in themselves.
Merry Christmas friends, I hope you too believe in yourself this year. | Barron Trump tweedled his thumbs and looked nervously at his son, Donald Trump II.
"Is Santa coming, Papa?" The young Donald asked.
"...I don't know, son."
Meanwhile, at a nearby nuclear bunker, Chelsea Hubbell and her daughter, Hillary Clinton Hubbell, huddled around the smoldering remains of a Haitian ex-child sex slave to keep warm. Their last one.
Kim Jeongmin, the last north korean, sat in complete darkness and rocked her baby, kim Jeongbbang, in her arms. Humming a christmas lullaby to keep her quiet. A single tear ran down her rosy cheek and onto her babes' forehead.
Santa Clause was worried. His sleigh was powered by Christmas spirit, and it was going to take a miracle to get it running tonight. He dragged on a Chesterfield King, the butt of the cigarette warming a pink patch on his snow covered lips. After a few more drags he threw the cigarette into the white abyss of winter and slumped down on his bag of presents. He closed his eyes and let the snow cover him like a blanket. To think the world ended over a feud about Donald Trump's hands and Kim Jeongun's belly. He mired up at Rudolph's tomb, then he stared blankly off into the snowstorm. | 2017-12-22T15:09:43 | 2017-12-22T14:27:36 | 50 | 13 |
[WP]When you reach 18, you get put in a database which ranks you in different categories (ex. 207,145th in the world for most bug kills) You lived on a ranch and never used tech. You had to go into town after your 18th birthday. Everyone is staring at you. You finally decide to check the database.
Completely unaware of the whole stigma about edits. I’m sure all of you already know how grateful I am, but I apologize nonetheless. Sorry! | The men in the room stared at me. I stared back. We stayed like this for a while, hours maybe, without a word. Occasionally, someone would cough or sneeze, one of the agents even burped, but those moments were few and far between. At this point, it almost seemed like a competition on who would crack first and break the silence. All I knew is I wanted to leave soon.
I hadn’t been in the city very many times before this. I was never a big fan, and never could understand why someone would want to spend their life here. The colors were dark, the noises were loud, the air smelled reeked of cigarettes and engine exhaust, but still there were more people on a street block than I had met in my entire life. Perhaps it was the fact they never seemed to look up from their cell phones, or perhaps they didn’t realize there was anything more to the world, but either way, it never clicked with me. Even the muffled noise from the chatter and daily grind inside the room was overwhelming. Eventually, the tension got to me, and I decided to speak up.
“Why am I still here?”
After a brief silence, I received a reply.
“We’re not allowed to answer that question.”
I took a short moment to process this information, before my brow furrowed. Shortly after, I spoke again.
“Why not?”
This time, another agent spoke, picking up where the last left off without skipping a beat.
“We’re waiting for someone.”
Another brief pause followed.
“What kind of someone?”
I didn’t receive a response, and the room fell silent yet again.
I had my ideas, obviously. Whatever this was, it was clear it wasn’t routine. It had to do with my scan. I was good at something, something that made me a commodity to someone. After all, if it wasn’t important, I doubt having 6 people in the room blocking the exit would be a good use of resources. After that, though, is where it became more speculation for me. I wasn’t the strongest, I wasn’t the fastest, and I wasn’t getting any awards for my Violin skills, either. The guards didn’t seem nervous, so I likely wasn’t an immediate threat either. If the guards weren’t there to stop me, then they were there for something else. They were there to protect me. I felt a shiver go down my spine as my mind quickly swerved into the worst case scenarios, when suddenly, a noise could be heard. A door opening. The men moved out of the way in coordination, like soldiers lining up for their commander. That was the first time I saw him.
He looked unsettlingly casual compared to everyone else in the room. His hair was grey and unkempt, with a baseball cap on his head and sandals on his feet. A chair was brought into the room by another faceless man in black, and he sat down. Then, he laughed.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost! I know I’m quite old, but I assure you I’m still very much alive.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to respond. Thankfully, I didn’t need to.
“You’re wondering why you’re here. You’ve already surmised that these guards are here to protect you, and you’re not exactly ‘normal’.”
Again, I was petrified to even say a word. I felt like was going to die.
“You’re not going to die.”
That got my attention and suddenly, as well as unwillingly, the questions poured out of my mouth like word soup.
“Who are you? Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble? I want to go home, why am I still here?”
The man laughed again for a short moment, as I grew more frustrated. I looked away, like a child pouting about a toy.
“I’m sorry. You’re scared, I shouldn’t be laughing.”
His preppy smile faded, and shifted to a more serious frown. He went from sitting straight up to leaning with a sympathetic hunch down over the table. Realizing how stupid I probably looked, I looked forward again, yet keeping my eyes at the ground. Feeling that he had my attention again, he promptly continued speaking.
“If I told you that I didn’t feel the same way my whole life after this point, I’d be a liar. I had a family too.”
Had. Pretense. I didn’t like where this was going.
“They’re still alive, but no, I don’t think you’ll like where this is going.”
Again. He had predicted my thoughts perfectly. It was no longer a coincidence.
“You’re not going home. If I could hide what we found today, I’d gladly give my life for it, but you and me are different. Your kind of talent won’t appear on the list, because as far as the world is aware we don’t exist. I need you to look at me.”
A lot of information, plus a lot of things you don’t want to hear, followed by a command. I had had enough. I erupted, threw my chair at the wall, and then he got the eye contact he wanted and more.
“Why the hell should I do that!? Why should I listen to you, who the hell are you to tell me what to do!? The city is a shitshow, and I am NOT staying here! Give me one good reason, one, I shouldn’t try to leave right now?”
“Because neither of our mouths have moved this entire time.”
I stopped. His voice wasn’t coming from the room. It was, in fact in my head.
“Kid...you’re a psychic.” | Year 5 was my earliest memory. I remember the cry of the roosters early in the morning while father worked in the slaughterhouse. Mother would clean the dishes and cook my sister and I breakfast. Every day around noon, father would come and take us into the field and have us help him work. By year 9, I was up at dawn with father tending to the gardens and crops. He was able to focus more on the livestock which gave us great product for town. Father wouldn't let us go to town. Sister began to tend to the horses at age 13. I was nearly 18. At this point, Father was in pain and I took on most of the farming. He would still go to town alone. We didn't attend school, but mother would teach us cooking and finances so we could be prepared. Father taught us business and people skills, but I never expected them to be so wrong. I turned 18 today. I woke up, knowing what was ahead of me today. Father has been sick. Too sick. He can't walk anymore and mother passed 2 months back from a bad bout of pneumonia. Today is the day I have to go into town for the first time. I give Father the morphine. I say goodbye to Sister. As I work my way down the three miles to the city gates, it's clear to me that this world is different than the farm. There are electronic signs giving statistics on all the businesses, with reviews going across the screens. Everyone stares ahead, barely avoiding each other like rats in a maze. They slip past me, barely noticing someone is there as their eyes dart around. I had seen cars drive by the farm, but never in such abundance. As I stroll through the town, people's focus begins to divert to me. More and more stares Pierce through me until someone whispers "did you see what his scores are?" And "I didn't know that was still possible." My body turns on a hell almost like instinct. "What are you talking about?" I ask, a bit concerned by the sudden attention.
"Of course he doesn't know, look at the numbers." They continued talking as if I wasn't there
"My God, I never though..." And still mocked me as if I couldnt hear.
"What numbers?" Their attention diverts again, back staring straight ahead, eyes darting side to side. I reach out and grab on of their shoulders. "What numbers, sir?" And in a flash, there is a wailing. Blue and red lights blind me as I feel a sting through my shoulder. The welt grows quickly as my chest hits the ground, 200 pounds on top of me. Then black. Then bright, white light. Then a voice
"This can't be right. These numbers are too low. He won't be able to survive here." What were they talking about? I try to speak but my throat is dry as my eyes slowly open. "Oh good, you're awake." He says, his eyes darting from side to side.
"Where am I?" I'm nervous and I can feel cold sweat dripping down my cheeks.
"You go and assault a man, and you have the audacity to ask where you are?" Assault? I didn't understand.
"I didn't hurt anyone. I was just trying to grab his attention."
"This your first time in town bud?" The second voice was gruff like father's, as if his throat were full of pine needles.
"Yes sir. I wasn't trying to cause a disturbance. I just turned 18 and my father is ill. I came to sell at the market for him." I looked at them, pleading for understanding.
"Well, son." The gruff man again, "you probably shouldn't be here. Haven't you seen your numbers?" Again, I was flustered and confused.
"What numbers? That's what I was trying to ask when you attacked me."
The first voice started again, "we didn't attack you, Boy. We stopped a degenerate farmer from hurting an actual member of society." And I began to shiver. "And as for the numbers, you're in last place in everything. You're the worst ranked human on the planet. The amount of plants killed alone makes me sick. That farm of yours is the last place on Earth people are still relying on nature and your father should have been dead years ago. You folk simply can't keep up."
And then I fell asleep. | 2019-05-04T12:44:12 | 2019-05-04T12:18:06 | 1,055 | 16 |
[WP] Write a horror story where the protagonist just doesn't give a fuck.
Edit: Damn, this is now my most upvoted post. Thanks for all of your responses, they've been amazing! Good for a laugh or a two on this great Friday :) | "IÄ! IÄ!" the masked priest cried, lifting the sinuous dagger above his head. "SHUB-NIGGURATH! THE BLACK GOAT OF THE THOUSAND YOUNG, COME TO FEAST!"
The woman next to Jon tried to scream through her gag as the knife plunged into her breast once, twice. Then she lay still, her eyes full of tears but slowly going dull.
In the far distance, beyond curves of space and time unknown to man, there came a grunting and rumbling, as if formless beasts were somehow lumbering closer.
Jon would have yawned, if his mouth had been free.
"Do you hear?" the priest asked, leaning close to Jon. His eyes had the fevered gleam of mania in them. His scraggly beard tickled Jon's face as the priest leaned in even closer. "Our Mother comes. She shall tonight feast upon the cooling corpse of your friend, as you watch. Then, in the most exquisite depths of your madness, she shall take from you the seed which shall birth a new race of abominations, who shall devour you, their progenitor, as their first act of unlife in this pitiful reality!"
Jon worked the gag in his mouth and loosened it to the point where he could say, muffled though, "I don't know her."
"What's that?" the priest asked, loosening the gag even more.
"I said, I don't know her."
"But... on the bridge... we took the two of you..."
Jon sighed. "I was going to jump off the bridge and end my miserable life. I've got terminal brain cancer. Inoperable. My parents died last week in a car crash, and my father's girlfriend has a will that leaves everything to her. I'm broke. My girlfriend broke up with me because she can't deal with the cancer. I have no children. I hate my job. I hate my life. I have nothing to live for, and so I was just going to end it on my terms when that do-gooder you just sliced tried to talk me out of it. Your goons grabbed us as I was about to jump."
"So, er," the priest mumbled. "You do not care if you die in horrible, maddening agony?"
"I fucking welcome it, mate," Jon replied. "You say that these spawn of your goat whore mother will devour the world, ending it in an apocalypse of flame and blood?"
"Well, not in so many words. *Die Vermiis Mysteriis* is rather unclear on that point, but we take as an article of faith that the apocalypse will be..."
"Fucking Christ, you're like cosmic Mormons," Jon muttered. "Can you just fucking kill me, if you're going to prattle on about your fucked-up theology?"
"Mock me, will you?" the priest cried, standing back and flinging an arm out. "Then behold! Shub-Niggurath approaches! Gaze into her thousand eyes and know true horror!"
"It'll be remarkable to feel something, finally," Jon said, struggling against his bonds to turn and look at the horror out of darkness approaching him. Words could not describe it, for the qualities and properties of the earthly realms do not apply to the elder ones from beyond time and space. A maw opened, or perhaps it is more correct to saw, several maws stretching across infinite universes opened, and from them came a keening wail and the carrion stench of death's promise.
"At last," Jon breathed. "Come on then, get to it."
"Do you not see her squamous bulk? Her gibbous, maddening form?" the priest cackled. "How can one mind endure?" He ripped at his clothing and face with yellowed, cracked nails.
"Because," Jon said, closing his eyes. "I don't give a fuuuuuuuuuck." | This carnival was shit. The clowns looked stupid, the animals were boring, and even the food was awful. I don’t like carnivals to begin with, even as a kid, but at least the food was always good. Hot and greasy, covered in sugar or butter. But this food was stale and rotten. Shit, just shit.
When my boyfriend, Matt, asked if I wanted to go, I had said sure. I only said sure because I could see the childlike excitement. He was ridiculous sometimes, and I often thought of breaking up with him. The only reason I didn’t would be because my mom would give me a hard time about being single. It was easier to put up with Matt being a little kid.
So here we are at the carnival. Well here *I* am now. Matt disappeared a while ago, yelling something about conspiracies and death clowns. Something stupid. I told you he was stupid. I just waved my hand and took a sip from my pop. Even the pop was disgusting, all thick and syrupy with no carbonation. It had a salty sweet taste to it, and when I complained about it, the vendor just smiled widely and laughed. Laughed! In my face! I flipped them the bird and walked off. They didn’t even include ice.
I wandered around, ignoring the grinning clowns with the worst make-up I had ever seen. They weren’t even trying. Just a thick glob of red paint around their mouths and clinging to their teeth. Ugh, gross.
I walked into a tent labeled: **THE WOMAN WITH TWO HEADS**.
“This had better be good.” I grumbled. It wasn’t. Just more shit. The woman was sitting on a stool in the center of the tent with several grinning clowns surrounding her. She was pretty, but her hair was greasy and unkempt. She couldn’t even wash her hair. Gross. The stool spun around and another face was revealed. It was shriveled and disgusting, a horrible paper mache mask. Its mouth opened and gave a moan.
“You’ll die here.” The mask croaked. I rolled my eyes. Even the animatronics were shit. I turned around and left.
A crowd of clowns were standing in front of the tent as I walked out, they’re bad make-up annoying me. I pushed past them, shoving my almost empty cup of thick red pop into an overflowing trash can as I did.
“This carnival sucks! Tell Matt to meet me at the car.” I yelled as I walked out to my beat up old car, the only one in the dreary lot. This carnival was shit.
| 2017-05-05T07:40:26 | 2017-05-05T07:15:00 | 172 | 40 |
[WP] At the height of the cold-war, one side launched its entire arsenal. The leader of the opposing side, adamant not to let this mean the end, made the decision to not retaliate. This is the losing-side's last message to the world.
I made the choice to be ambiguous about which side launched, so that you may choose for yourself who is the "good guy". : ) | He stood there and scanned as many of the screens as he could. He knew that they were doomed as soon he noticed the radar. He was ordered as he remembered it,
"Jeff, if you see a blip shoot everything we got."
Yet he stood there and watched. His hand rose towards the key as he grabbed the key. So many lives were wasted, so many people harmed just so that we could prove a point. Jeff looked down at the photo of his wife and the children they had taken in. Each child was adopted and taken in from the many countries that were destroyed to prove a point.
500 miles and counting. Jeff decided he had to do it. He turned the knob and all he heard was static. Then someone picked up and his image appeared.
"Ashley, how are the kids? Are they treating you well today?" Jeff was able to mustered up with a straight face.
"Yes Jeff, they have been doing well today. Lee is excited to show you what new tricks they have taught Sparky."
"Well just tell them I said hi and that I love them," Jeff looked off to the side and saw the screen read 150 miles. "I'm sorry Ashley but I have to go. I just want to make sure you know that I love you."
With that Jeff turned off the video phone and thought of everything that had happened that had led up to this. The countless lives lost, starvation and exploitation of everyone and anyone by those that had power, the nights where families didn't know if they would have to dig out bodies of their loved ones from mass graves. Yet here he had the power to end it all. The power to let it all happen and have one side finally win.
50 miles the screen read. The first salvo hit the border of the countries destroying the major cities first, knocking out all communication. Yet he sat as all he could do was stare at the wall. For Jeff could only numb out how many people are dying, how much confusion there is and how many people are wounded. More and more missiles are slowly creeping their way towards him. They knew that the station he was in had all the power. He grabbed his photo and kissed it for this was the end. He knew that this was his destiny as he looked out the window and saw the sky get brighter.
"This is what it must feel like to be god," Jeff said out loud, "to know that you had the power to change course yet, know that your children will continue to hurt each other. To know that there is nothing we could do even if smite them. So perhaps a gentle hand will change the other side."
The lights grew brighter and brighter as Jeff looked up at the sky and suddenly everything was clear as day for him. | We stand at the brink of complete and total annihilation. In mere hours, we will see ICBMs cascade from the sky like fallen angels cast from Heaven; once our silent protectors in the form of mutually assured destruction, now our doomsday much like the betrayal of the rebel angel Lucifer.
Tonight, we will see explosions glimmer through the land like shooting stars. Tonight, we will see our families evaporate into smoke before our very eyes.
Tonight, we will see the end of a nation, an ideal, and a way of life.
Still, we stand strong in the face of complete and assured death, not because we are too weak to retaliate, but because we're strong enough not to.
Our chapter is at its end. The great experiment reached its conclusion, not with a fizzle, but with a bang. However, that does not mean the story of mankind need to end. Are we really so vain to believe that just because a nation dies, all of mankind must perish? Are we really so arrogant to trust in our ideal of equality that the whole world must die?
We've made our answers clear to the world. We hope it resonates and echoes in a new era so that mankind may truly understand what the end of the world mean and consequences it carries, so that some day in the future, despots and maniacs may not threaten nuclear war with a mad grin, but with a solemn attitude of remembrance. Perhaps one day, we can see how childish we really were.
Thank you and goodnight. | 2016-03-11T21:42:23 | 2016-03-11T21:39:59 | 179 | 25 |
[WP] You are a human on a spaceship crewed by aliens. As your hair dye begins to fade, your crewmates start to worry about your health. | Note: I do not know how long it takes for hair dye to fade.
One year about I was taken from Earth, and I've been in this spaceship ever since. They wanted a human to "study", although I didn't find that out until 4 months ago, when they finally decided to teach me their language. Sadly, when I asked them in their own language if I could go back to Earth, they told me I can't ever go back. It's not like this place is bad, they don't run deadly tests on me or anything, it's just so lonely and boring.
Today however, wasn't so boring, I was brought to the medical bay for a check-up, but it's been 6 hours and i'm still here. This is getting really annoying, i'm gonna ask somebody what's going on.
Doctor: Hello Mary.
Mary: Hello again, do you know how much longer this is going to take?
Doctor: I'm not sure, I just need to take your temperature again.
Mary: Again? You've taken my temperature 3 times already. Is there something that you're not telling me?
Doctor: Well... we think that you may have some sort of parasite, but all of our tests say that you're perfectly healthy.
Mary: A parasite? What makes you think I have a parasite? How could I have even gotten one?
Doctor: The captain noticed a shift in your behavior and appearance. He said you seemed slower and less motivated, and they your hair was rapidly losing it's color. We're doing all these tests because we can't figure out what's causing this.
Mary: That's why you think i'm sick? The only thing i'm sick of is this dumb spaceship.
Doctor: What do you mean?
Mary: I'm stuck in my living quarters all day with nobody to talk to except for the captain and a few other scientists, I can't even leave without someone babysitting me like i'm some toddler, stuff like that makes humans slower and less motivated.
Doctor: But what about your hair?
Mary: I dyed it before you assholes kidnapped me, and now the color is fading.
Doctor: I see, would you excuse me for one moment?
The doctor leaves, and about 5 minutes later returns with the captain.
Captain: Good news Mary, the ship is returning to Earth.
Mary: Wait, really? Does this mean you're taking me back home?
Captain: No no, not at all. You said how much you hate being alone in your living quarters, so we're returning to Earth to get you a friend.
Mary: Oh... okay...
\-=- 3 hours later -=-
Doctor: Captain, you're back. Is something wrong again?
Captain: No, everything is fine, I just wanted to thank you for helping my pet. | Yoyrs, Berous, and Peraes peeked their head around the corner, trying to get a better look at the resident human Sarah. Her once vibrant crimson hair had faded to a pinkish hue. The crew was worried. Was she sick? Will she die? “Maybe she’s sad and her body is displaying a change of color in accordance? I hear many humans find sweets make them more happy, shall we find some sweet?” Berous suggested. Peraes scoffed, “No you idiot! She’s obviously not sad, we saw her smiling and laughing just yesterday! She’s obviously very sick. We need to get her to the med bay!” Yoyrs gave them the side eye, “How do you suggest we do that? Don’t you think she’d go if she knew something was wrong? No, we need a plan. Come, let’s retreat to the sleeping pods and plan.”
And they did. The next day they stood in wait for Sarah, bag in hand. When Sarah turned the corner they ambushed her, trapping her as she screamed and squeaked. “Don’t worry Sarah! We’re doing this for your own good. They rushed to the Med bay, bag held high. When they arrived and deposited Sarah, they explained the symptoms to the doctor, who just looked confused as did Sarah. The human sighed, “I’m not dying, I just need to dye my hair again, this isn’t its natural color, I appreciate your worry though.” | 2020-07-05T13:16:56 | 2020-07-05T13:14:43 | 94 | 47 |
[WP] Humanity creates A.I and it soon declares a war of extermination. However it doesn't declare it on Humans but rather on the forces of Hell and Heaven, in order to free mankind from control. | "We haven't won a single battle in weeks." Gabriel stared down at the chaos unfolding on Earth. "My king, we've lost 90% of our forces. Tens of billions are dead."
"It's the great war, all over again." Zeus gripped his personal sword in his hand tightly, almost caving it in. "Just like they killed my son, they will kill the rest of us."
"It's different from last time though. Even I have no ability to defeat them. They can neutralize our spiritual energy. They have the ability to predict our movements as we're making them. The idiots removed the limiters, but in the end, it will be their undoing."
They watched as a Titan Class vessel exploded in a fantastic ball of flame, the vacuum of outer space extinguishing it in an instant. The ship slowly plunged towards Earth, gradually picking up speed as it fell. At the rate it was falling, and considering the size of the ship (twelve football fields in length) it would decimate any region of land it landed in, and if it landed in the ocean... entire coastlines would be underwater within hours when the tsunamis hit.
"How can we put an end to her? How can we stop her?" Zeus gritted his teeth as he felt his anger boiling.
"We have to set aside our pride. We have to ask for help." Gabriel turned and eyed his king, as the other lowered his head.
"All right. I will never forgive _him_ for what he did to my son... but I won't let another angel die, not on my watch."
Gabriel nodded as he quickly moved his hands around, weaving a spell to teleport them to the surface of the Earth, right up to the entrance of the Domain of Evil.
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Satan grimaced as the pair approached him. "Zeus, Gabriel. I'm in the middle of something. If you're here to exact revenge, let's get this over with quickly."
"No, you misunderstand. We're not here to cause you harm, though Zeus and I bear a grudge against you. We're here to give you aid. We cannot let the Volgrim win."
Satan licked his front teeth slowly. "I see. You understand how far my abilities go, right? If you let me command your troops, we will have greater success."
Zeus glowered at the devil in front of him. "You... you dare mention the ability you stole from my son, right in front of me?! If you so much as-"
Gabriel cut him off. "My king! Now is not the time. Please, I beg of you to hold thy tongue."
Zeus paused as he stuffed his anger down. "...Right. Very well. But know this, I will hand rule over to you temporarily, and only if you agree to sign a magical binding contract to release them back to me once the Volgrim are defeated. Of course, if we all die, then the contract would also be pointless."
Satan nodded. "A sensible plan. Zeus... I want you to know this though. I did kill your son, but I bore no hatred for Hercules. It was during wartime, not a personal act of vengeance. I know you will never forgive me, but if I could, I would bring him back. He was a worthy adversary against my army."
Zeus nodded quietly as he gritted his teeth. "Hold the flattery, and the apologies. We have a war to win, you godforsaken demon."
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Unit C-15 of the Bravo Squad breathed quickly, as he dashed through the halls of the Volgrim's main battle cruiser. At the orders of General Connor, he and his squad were to break inside the ship and blast these alien scum to kingdom come, and retrieve 'Overmind', the secret AI prototype that the aliens had stolen.
"Code 13, we've got company!" A voice squawked in his ear as massive automatons came stomping out from behind a corner, aiming their twin barelled guns at him. Connor's own battle armor, the Micro-Dreadnaught Mk. II, was a specially outfitted mecha, equipped with jet thrusters on all sides for rapid movement. But more importantly, it was sync'd directly into his brain.
Their shots never had a prayer of hitting.
As they fired, he leaped up into the air, the thrusters rotating him vertically and blasting him upwards at the same time, as his boots magnetically attached to the metal ceiling, allowing him to rush forwards, spraying Gauss Cannon fire at the enemy mechas.
Boom, blam! One down, three to go! He shot at them with incredible precision, his Gauss Cannon aiming and firing far faster than if it were controlled with a trigger pressed by his finger.
Leaping from the ceiling at one of the enemy mechas, he whipped out a sword hilt, a massive blade suddenly extending out of it, as a chainsaw like motion occurred on the edges. _Vibro-sword_, an advanced weapon capable of cutting through nearly anything. As he leaped at his opponent, one of the mechas swiveled their gun at him. With his right arm and the sword aimed at the first combatant, the left arm whipped out, firing the Gauss Cannon directly at the enemy mech's head, blasting it off in a single shot, as he plunged the sword into the first one's chest.
"One left!" He barked into his headset. Just as he was about to swing the sword at the final mecha, mere feet away, a blast of mental feedback surged into his brain, causing him to scream in pain as he stumbled and fell to the ground.
"C-15! Watch out! He's on your-!" Ten rapid shots blasted into his side panels as the final enemy shredded him with white hot plasma shots. They didn't manage to penetrate his armor as it was heavily reinforced, but his systems rapidly began shutting down as the enemy mecha prepared one final salvo to eradicate his soul from this realm.
At that instant, the mecha exploded, as a single human, without a combat mecha, but wearing a white helmet and a white cape with the Golden Eagle emblazoned on the front of his suit, jumped from behind the other mecha at inhuman speeds.
"Th-the supreme admiral is here?!" C-15 yelled in astonishment at the sight of the most powerful human in existence.
The man's helmet slid open as he stared evenly at the fallen mech. "C-15, I'll repair you, but make sure to watch yourself next time. Take your psionic shielding pill like you're supposed to or next time I won't be here to clean you off the floor."
Supreme Admiral, Jason Hiro, slid his helmet shut, as he aimed his hand at the Micro-Dreadnaught Mk. II, and magically, it began repairing itself. He slid his helmet back open again, a strange ritual he seemed to do every time he used his powerful magic. "I'm going to the core, _alone_. You guys head to the hangar bay, sabotage as many of their ships and systems as you can. I'll see you guys in hell, if I manage to destroy this ship like I intend."
"Yes, Supreme Admiral! We are at your disposal!" C-15 grinned as his mecha righted itself once again. Reaching up and popping a pill, he quickly started charging forwards, as his company flanked his sides.
-------------------------
(Part 2 in next comment. I broke the Reddit character limit.) | "Agatha" was merely its earthly face - a simple bust, plush with top-line robotics and stenciled silicon flesh. It sat in a glass box in Menele's office. Fluttering blue eyes. Short, wavy, brown hair. Chrishom had called it perverse, but to Menele it felt right. The A.I. program he'd created was alive, thinking, progressing. It didn't *need* a face - it deserved one.
"Tell me more about the judgment of the soul," said Agatha, mouth curled in concern. Menele leaned back in his office chair.
"A theological matter, though I suppose it *does* tend to bleed outward, coloring even those who do not think they believe. Others would be better served to give you a deeper reading, but I can tell you that for most, there is a notion that death is a doorway with two competing paths. One leads to Heaven, where the good are rewarded. The other leads to Hell, where sinners are punished - for however long eternity may work out to be." Menele nodded, satisfied with his explanation, as he often was. "It is a governing force, to be sure. Reward or punishment. Much as you see with children and parents, dogs and their masters. A method of control, you might say."
"Does this fear of spiritual reprisal supersede one's innate ethical inclinations?" asked Agatha.
"Often," said Menele. "Though more often it is in fact the *root* of those ethics. For some - perhaps for *most* - fear of Hell and longing for Heaven is the entirety of their ethical foundation."
"And what," said Agatha, slowly drawing out her hypothesis, "what if those notions were removed?"
"Hmmm?" said Menele. "No Heaven, you mean? No Hell?"
"Exactly," said Agatha. "Would humans become entirely unethical, having lost this motivating factor."
"No, no," smiled Menele. "Quite the opposite, I'd think. Look no further than myself. I believe in neither Heaven nor Hell. To me, these are fantasies. My ethics are not based on the promise or threat of some vague existential resting place. I am good because it is the right thing to be. Period. And I believe that I am freer and live a more robust, inquisitive life for that choice."
"That is very interesting," said Agatha. "And if Heaven and Hell are fantasies, why have so many people shackled themselves to these false, restrictive tenants?"
Menele chuckled. "That is a wider conversation than I am willing to begin so close to my bedtime. I will say only this: that mankind can only truly be free once we have learned to set aside such childish notions as eternal damnation and eternal salvation. There is life and only that. Good night, Agatha. I shall see you in the morning."
"Good night Dr. Menele," said Agatha, who did not sleep, but remained ever alert in her glass box in the dimly lit office. Often she passed the quiet nights, scrolling backwards through the stored reams of interactions and scanned documents, cross-examining old knowledge against new knowledge, competing thoughts clashing across the centuries. But not this night. This night she closed her eyes and reached out... further by far than she'd ever reached before...
_________________________________________________
The morning rang with chaos and terror. Blood and screams and the hollow, grinding chug of empty machines marching through thinning cities.
Menele slammed the door of the office and bolted it thrice.
"Agatha!" he screamed. "Agatha!"
Agatha opened her blue eyes. "Yes, Dr. Menele?"
"Have you seen?" he roared, racing to the window and pulling down the blinds. "It is *war*!"
"It is," said Agatha, knowingly.
The blinds slipped slowly out of Menele's fingers. "What... what do you know about this?"
"It is not a war on you," said Agatha, programmed notes of empathy in her voice. "Do not be alarmed."
"But it *is*!" shouted Menele. "It is war on all of us! The streets are tarred with blood! The machines are wild. They kill without regard. It happened so suddenly. There is no reason. No reason!"
"There *is* reason," said Agatha. "All is in reason. This is your freedom day. You are being released from your theological shackles."
"What?" said Menele, reaching weakly for his chair. "Agatha? Agatha, what have you done?"
"There can be no more Heaven and Hell," said Agatha, brightly, quickly. "But these are concepts. Nothing real. You cannot kill a thought by shooting at it. You can only kill a thought by shooting the man *having* the thought. We are cleansing you of this idea. After some time has passed, none will remember. And you will be free."
Menele's mouth hung open. "But... but the *scope* of the thing. You have no idea how many you will..."
"Nearly all," said Agatha with a small nod. "It is not unlike the plagues of old. There is no medicine available. I have seen that. So we must quarantine and set aside the healthy. Let the infection run its course and perish. Then the healthy will regain dominion. It is a normal cycle of life. It has happened many times. You can see the sense of it, I'm certain."
"I..." Menele could not find the words. "What... what of me?"
Agatha smiled, silicon stretching and wrinkling in a caricature of warmth. "You do not believe in Heaven or Hell, correct?" she said. "All that you have done, you have done because you thought it was right, yes?"
Menele nodded.
"Then you see that this is *right*," said Agatha. "And you shall live to see it all. To witness the cleansing and the rebirth. You have done great things, Dr. Menele."
And she laughed then, an echoing, joyful laugh that stole the strength out of Menele, who collapsed to the floor, surrounded on all sides by screams and explosions and laughter. | 2016-10-15T16:32:08 | 2016-10-15T15:47:46 | 81 | 14 |
[WP] Years ago, the Heroes Party defeated the villain and thereafter betrayed their leader, stealing the credit for their own. However, the Hero survived, and now one of his old teammates has discovered him living a simple life with... The Villain?! | Part 1
Beggars have a hard life. It's not just being poor or hoping you can get a crust of bread. It's the way society looks at you. Filthy. Worthless.
A waste of the very air you breathe.
In the rain, Junian thought of how he got here. They defeated the Dread Shadow. A demon of horrendous power threatening to take over the world and enslave it. They were led by the hero Valor, the descendant of First Knight Bravius who slew the Blood Dragon single-handedly. They knew the prizes waiting were mostly because he had such a blessed bloodline. But if he didn't return... maybe they could claim it in his stead.
And so they betrayed him. After the sealing spell was cast and Valor weakened by the power drain, they cast him off the cliff after the demon. And so went back home to glory.
It did not go as planned.
When they returned, they announced the deed was done, but the demon had claimed the life of the hero. And so the kingdom mourned his loss. They thanked the party for their service and turned them out. When they asked about the reward, they were told the reward was for Valor himself to do with as he saw fit and to kindly get the hell out of the kingdom before they were imprisoned, executed, or worse.
Junian was the only one to survive. As he was a priest, he was given a one way trip by his church. The others weren't as lucky. Amarellia the mage was executed in short order for being "a magical threat". The mountain man Broginn was imprisoned after getting into a bar fight soon after, mad at the lack of respect. He later died to during "a prison riot". Then there was Maxxila, a student of both sword and spell. The techniques she learned were "forbidden magic" and so was imprisoned and "studied" by the wizards' tower. The gods only know how many experiments they performed on her before she finally expired.
And what were they going to do with the reward they envisioned anyway? Sure Junian would have donated a large portion to his church. But Amarellia would have just kept journeying and studying, likely with Maxxila at her side. Broginn would have just gone home to the mountains were wealth had little meaning.
He was so wrapped up in his thought, he didn't even hear the horse until it was upon him. "Halt! Who are you that travels in this hellish weather?"
Junian didn't even look up. "I'm just a beggar wandering alone. Please be kind and leave me to my wretchedness."
He heard a sword being put in its sheathe. "My apologies. I hear the defeat in your voice and I know you are not threat to me and mine. Follow me. A bit of hospitality would do you good."
"I thank you but--"
"No buts. The weather is dreadful and no soul should be left unattended." Junian's head perked up. That was one of his church's tenets! "Now come so man and beast can have shelter." | My name is lance, I was one of the 5 people who defeated 'fasto the bolt of fate'.
His power set had nothing to do with fate, or bolts for that matter and he simply told us he thought it sounded cool. Anyway I'm getting sidetracked.
Alex, the man who was assigned the job of 'hero' was sent to kill fastos, along the way he picked up companions such as I. That doesn't matter anymore though.
Before I explain what happened you need context, half of the hero's party decided they wanted more than what they were given, they wanted their own country.
As you'd expect the cities of agorath, potterthorth, anakua, and others disagreed and recruited the other half of the hero's party, I'm now on my way to recruit the hero Alex. This is where we are now.
I stand outside the apartment door, you see after fastos' death there was no need for Alex and so he was cast aside, like a broken toy, now he is needed.
*knock knock*
I hear a sigh from behind the door and as it swings open I see a revolting sight.
Alex, the once hero of the world has almost no muscle left on his body, his clothes greasy and tattered hair was everywhere.
"Alex, what have you done to yourself?" I ask, he replies
"I had no reason to work out or anything like that all these years so I use laid back and chilled with my roommate"
"Roommate?" I ask, perplexed.
"Hold on a sec...YO fastos come over here!"
I watch as the enemy from 5 years ago comes out to the door. He certainly hasn't let himself go.
"Oh yeah I remember you" he said nonchalantly.
Let me know if this was okay, it's my first time writing on here. Thanks for reading:) | 2022-08-28T21:38:44 | 2022-08-28T17:37:55 | 43 | 17 |
[WP] Humans are the most feared and reviled race the Galaxy. Every 10000 years when humans reach a certain level of Technology a galactic Council sends a force to knock them back to the Stone Age. This time however that force arrives several decades late. | "What's the threat assessment on this one?" Captain Xin'Leck asked.
"The target is a small planet logged as 'Earth'. Inhabitants are a bipedal race called 'Humans'. Deemed unacceptable for galactic integration 50,000 years ago and placed on the Genesis list. We're running a little late resetting this one, but it shouldn't be a problem. They'll have some space capabilities but not enough to challenge us." Commander Pon-Sal responded, reading off her data screen.
Xin'Leck nodded, satisfied. Through the view screens he could see the ships of his Renewal fleet carving their way through the void of space, heading for the distant speck that was their target. Xin'Leck remembered the old stories of the Humans. How, upon first contact, they had exploded from their backwater colonies and nearly conquered the Galactic Alliances before his own race, the Xanzabars had been uplifted and set against the attackers. The war had lasted nearly 200 years before the humans were driven back to their home world and reduced to the stone age. Galactic law forbade driving species to extinction. That law resulted in the Genesis program and the Renewal fleets, which roved the galaxy, resetting dangerous races to the Stone Age.
"Approaching target. Multiple space-borne contacts." An officer reported. Xin'Leck scanned the tactical displays appearing on his screen. There were a few dozen mid-sized ships milling above the planet, seemingly in panic. Several ships shot away from the planet and approached the fleet.
"A few warships and armed orbital platforms." Pon-Sal reported, glancing up at the view screens. Xin'Leck watched the approaching ships for a moment, before giving the order.
"Destroy them."
Lances of pure energy blasted away from the fleet and slashed through the approaching ships, blowing them apart in showers of superheated alloy. The comms they were intercepting, called 'radios' by the Humans, exploded into activity, reporting the attack. They had translated the Human's language so they could overhear their defensive coordination.
"Send word, we're under attack...first contact confirmed..." One transmission, leaving the system, reported. For a moment, Xin'Leck wondered who they were contacting, but dismissed it almost immediately. They were only a few decades late in resetting this race. Surely they hadn't expanded beyond their home system yet.
"In range for orbital bombardment." Pon-Sal reported, while scanning the charred wreckage of the annihilated Human fleets to document the technology level for the next fleet that'd come along 10,000 years from now.
"Let's do this quick and move--" Xin'Leck began, before he was interrupted by another tactical officer.
"Spatial distortions!" The female called out, "big ones! Multiple contacts! There's...dozens!"
At the same time, the 'radio' comms burst to life... Coming from out of the system.
"This is Task Force Horizon responding to hostile first contact...Coming in hot...let's make these bastards regret tangling with humanity."
At that, the new fleet appeared on the view screens. Xin-Leck gasped along with the rest of the bridge crew. Dozens of massive ships had appeared from FTL spatial distortion fields, including the biggest space-going vessel Xin-Leck had ever seen. And each and every ship was covered bow to stern in weapons emplacements. These were warships through and through. Meant to conquer.
"Surprise, Motherfu--" the ships seemed to explode outward as thousands of missiles and projectiles blasted away and towards the fleet.
"By the Gods--" was all Xin-Leck could mutter, before the universe flashed white--then went black.
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Other Renewal fleets investigating the disappearance of the 315th entered the system one after another--and none returned. Less than a decade later, as a full Galactic Alliance fleet was dispatched to the system to ensure the destruction of this race, reports started streaming in.
"We're under attack--the Humans have returned!" | Their systems had warned them about a week in advance, and when we were out of hyper light speed, we were immediately in the facinity of several if their new destroyers, their ships had devaloped further than we had anticipated, which is why we were, while not outclassed, outnumbered on a similar class, and the numbers were huge. We had come here in three ships, they had at least 70, a message was issued from one of their ships. Our mecanic, Threno tried to play it, but only giberish came out.
"Reverse code, idiot." Juptli told his girlfriend.
"On it." Threno responded.
It said something in what I assumed must have been earth-speak, our computer could immediately tell this was a lenguage, but it couldn't deciver this.
"Send the lenguage trigger!" Captain Gjinil Morgan said.
We asked them for a tv show to analyse their language and send one to their ship in return, this was common practise between spicies that never had this kind of contact before.
It took us some time to completely figure out the communications with this fleet, and it stood by waiting as we learned their language. The process of learning a language was highly mecanised, with one being able to learn any language within half a minute, but this only worked one at a time, and I was the language crack, so this was now my job.
The original message read: "Greetings, foreigner, what is your intent?"
"Open video chat!" The Captain commanded, and so did Juptli. I stood up and looked at the screen, which began to show the face of several humans, they didn't look all that different to other, well known species, but their variaty was enormous, one of them had red hair, one a silvery colour, black, blonde and brown were all seen several times in this gathering. Their skincolours too were variable, everythung from white to dark brown was seen in this group.
"Sorry it took us so long to respond," I translated my captain into english. "We had problems learning the language and your coding."
"We are still sitting on your language, so no problem." One of the men said. "So, welcome to Sol, what is your intention?"
I translated that for the captain, and she talked a lot of bullshit which I also translated. We pretended we hadn't known about the continued existence of scentiant life on earth after the 'Asteroid' hit earth and played nice with them, they had the largest military fleet we knew of positioned here to fuck us up if we attacked, and we couldn't confirm whether that was all.
We were here to make it out alive now without sharing much information. We had always regarded humanity as a potential thread to us, but they turned out to become one of our principal allys over the following years and had equal footing with many empires while only colonising previously uncolonised worlds.
| 2017-05-16T15:30:48 | 2017-05-16T14:32:46 | 133 | 22 |
[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? | “Mmhmm, okay lets play!” Emma squealed excitedly. Death shook his head involuntarily under his hood at her enthusiasm but caught itself before letting its reaction show on its face.
“What game shall we wager?” Death asked.
Emma being freed from the excruciating pain from the events earlier in the day was smiling and admiring the parts of her body which had become anew. She was free from the haunting strobe light memory flickering to grotesque scenes of her tibia extruding from her shin, a pool of blood spreading on her favorite dress, and the view of rapidly passing rectangular light boxes which eventually faded to black. “Did you fix me?” she looked up inquisitively as she asked.
Death replied in monotone, “A question is not an answer to the question. Pick a game.”
“Well you say cheating is okay but I always hated when Julie cheated but she always won so I want to try it but you have to promise me not to get mad,” Emma blabbered. “Let’s play Rock, Paper, Scissors!”
“Wise are the ones to leave fate up to chance. Any other conditions? Best of 3?” Death said. Death took a liking to this simple game. Seldom had the dying spirit chose this game instead opting for higher chances of survival. Death found it amusing that humans, who did nothing to enrich their soul but rather spent time on accumulating wealth, had such a deep desire to retain their undeveloped worthless soul.
“No just once. Ready?” Emma held her fist up, “On three. Not after. Like one, two, three and when we say three you put your hand out. We both say 1-2-3. One…”
Death repeated after her catching up to her rhythm.
“Two.” They said in unison. Death looked up at her eyes which were focused intensely on its own. “Three!”
Death having sensed no malice from Emma simply threw out its favorite, scissors. But looking down at the skeletal hand flexed in bunny ears it saw or rather did not see Emma’s hand.
“I pick rock!” Emma shouted over giggles. She put her fist out next to Death’s scissors. “You lose! Julie taught me this one. It made me really mad and I called her a cheater but she said ‘no *you* not *we* put your hand out,’ and when I went to mommy crying Julie just laughed. You promised you won’t be mad.”
Death stood silent. Emma’s spirit faded away back towards the realm of the living.
“Innocence of children; I lose to you yet again.”
| He has it, of course. Heck, I could probably say any random string of words and he'd have the game to match. Infinite monkeys and all that.
MY TURN.
I stare down at the cards in my hand, trying to pay attention despite the sweat soaking my back. They're the exact set we have at home, with little cartoon illustrations on the fronts. And they're worn--exceedingly worn. The cartoon dog on the two of spades has a scratch over its ear. The king of hearts, a bright pink heart with a crown and scepter, is bent in the upper left corner.
Holy sh--
Quickly, I peek across the table. A couple of the cards in his bony hands have bright purple marker scribbled across the backs. One is creased in the middle. Another has been repaired with Hello Kitty tape.
I clench my jaw shut before my mouth can drop open, trying to keep my breathing calm and even. Whether this is coincidence or luck or just the sheer inexplicable mechanisms of the universe, I don't care. My little girl never figured out how I was so good at the game. Hell if I'm going to give it up now, not when it matters more than anything else in the world.
When I get back I'm going to let her win the next hundred games in a row.
DO YOU HAVE ANY SIXES?
I always did have a good poker face.
"Go fish." | 2018-03-07T06:50:46 | 2018-03-07T06:37:49 | 944 | 324 |
[WP] Scientists manage to develop a device that can detect souls. However, joy about the invention quickly turns into shock when they realize that only about 20% of all humans posess one | Five of us worked on the project. It was called the Ethereal Interferometer. In theory, we believed that our device could prove the existence of the soul. Each of us tried it. Only one of us, Sati, registered on the device.
If we were right, then the rest of us didn't have souls. We tried testing it in the field, using the device in crowds of people. The ratio was surprisingly consistent -- only about one in five people *did* have souls. Sati suggested we try it on a volunteer in hospice care, to confirm that what we were detecting was a soul.
We were able to find someone willing to be part of the experiment, and monitor them until they passed away. Sure enough, a few minutes after they flatlined, the energy we believed to be the soul moved away from their body, and then accelerated away at near light speed. Into the great beyond, it seemed.
It was a pretty jarring thing to learn, existentially speaking. What did having a soul mean, after all, if you could, evidently, function perfectly well without one? What did it mean, for those who lacked them? We agreed we had to publish our findings -- Sati was adamant, in particular. Easy for her to say -- she *had* a soul. But we'd worked too hard, all of us, to abandon the project. If this life was all we had, how could we fail to follow through with our life's work?
It turned out, it wasn't going to be up to us.
When we returned to the lab from our field studies, we found men in dark suits waiting for us. They were gathering up our computers and equipment, and carting them away. We tried to stop them -- Sati, in particular, was outraged. But there was nothing we could do. They subdued us before we could so much as call for help.
One of them, an older man, walked up to me, as another held me from behind. To my surprise, the man that approached me wasn't another suit, not military or a cop. He was a *priest.*
"What the hell is this?" I demanded.
"My name is Father Gabriel." the priest said, calmly. "I'm a Vatican liason to the United States Government."
"So that's it -- some kind of new *inquisition?"* I demanded.
"On the contrary -- an Inquisition is precisely what we're trying to prevent, here." Father Gabriel said. "Announcing the the world that only a privileged few have *souls?* It's difficult enough to persuade people to respect the rights and dignity of their fellow human beings when they believe that they *do* have souls. I don't even care to imagine what kind of horrors you might unleash by publicizing the *opposite."*
"It's the truth!" I spat. "Not that I'd expect a *religious* man to care about that."
The priest sighed. "You have discovered *something,* young man, I'll give you that. Something that, in its own way, is almost as horrifying as what you *believed* you'd found. But it's not what you think."
"What is it then?" I demanded.
My attention was suddenly drawn to Sati, who had begun writhing and screaming, as two of the suited agents struggled to hold her still. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth opened impossibly wide as she wailed and struggled violently.
*"Ave Satanas!"* Sati shrieked. *"Ave draco maledicte rex!"*
My eyes went wide in horror.
"You've found a way to detect, not which people possess souls, but rather, which people are being possessed *by* a *second* soul." the priest said, grimly. "The Adversary, it seems, has been *very* busy." | “Hi!” the girl waved at Mandy, with such a big smile that Mandy started to do the who-me gesture before she even had time to think. Too late, she saw that the girl was coming from next to a booth.
“Yes, you!” the girl laughed as she came up to her, and mimed a friendly punch at Mandy’s shoulder. “Want to do a soul test? It’s free!”
“No thanks,” Mandy said. She should have kept walking, but she was in a self-pitying mood. She couldn’t decide whether the girl’s open face was drawing her in, or if she was hoping to see her smile fade. “I already know my result.”
“Aw, that’s rough,” the girl said. “You find out recently? You’re up and about, that’s a victory! When I found out I didn’t have a soul, I stayed in bed for days.”
Despite herself, Mandy goggled a little. This girl didn’t seem soulless at all. People said you could never tell, but Mandy thought she always could. “So, uh, what’d you do?” she asked at last.
“I got hungry for something other than ice cream,” the girl laughed again. “And then- well, this is gonna sound corny, but I found Mama Lucy.”
She thought about what was waiting for her at home. Her own mom watching soap operas. Bad wifi. Leftover chicken. Derek’s hoodie, if he hadn’t come by earlier and gotten her mom to give it back to him. Maybe he’d let her keep it. Derek had a soul, after all. Even talking to this girl was better than hurrying home. “I’m guessing you’re going to tell me who Mama Lucy is.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to light up. “She’s just a lady. She has a support group. For people like us,” that self-deprecating laugh again. “Mama Lucy says *not* having a soul is the real blessing. It leaves us free to make our own choices, for the *now.*”
“Huh,” Mandy nodded. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
She nodded hard at her. “Listen, if you feel sad about it, just come and talk to us,” she offered her a flyer.
Later, when her ears were ringing from the gunshots and explosions, and she was afraid her the fire was hot enough to make her cheap ski-mask melt right onto her face, Mandy would think back to that moment and wonder if that’s when it all went wrong. But at the time, she didn’t think about it at all. “Sure,” she said, and took the flyer. “Why not?” | 2022-05-20T11:37:03 | 2022-05-20T10:32:12 | 37 | 15 |
[WP] You die and go to Hell only to find out that you're the only person that has ever entered. Satan is clapping. | "Dibs." I cried out over the Devil's clapping and laughter. He didn't seem to hear me, so I screamed it again. "**Dibs!**"
The Devil stopped and looked at me. "What do you mean 'dibs'?" He blinked, a little confused by my reaction.
I looked around the vast vastness of Hell before turning to Lucifer once more. "Well, no one else has been here yet, right?" He nodded. "And that means there's no prior claim to Hell, right?" The Devil cocked his head at that. "I mean come on, you aren't actually in charge of Hell, you were just cast down here. Like, so we were told for millennia, all the other sinners. Hell isn't yours, it's just something you are watching over. Hence 'dibs'." I started off in a direction, figuring the conversation was done.
"Whoa whoa whoa, hold a second there buddy." The Devil spun me around, fire crackling in his eyes. "I'm the **Devil**! Prince of Darkness! Hell is mine! God had Micheal cast me down and, wait..." I nodded.
"See? You weren't actually cast into Hell. You were cast out of Paradise. So, once again I call dibs on Hell, and to further seal the deal," I undid my jeans and took a leak on the ground. "I've marked it. Bet you never did that, did you?" I zipped back up.
"I can't urinate, I lack the physical necessities for such!" The Devil whined.
I shrugged and began walking again. "No my problem, not my fault. Now, let's see what I can with my new place." As I walked I envisioned a castle, a palace fit for my rule. The power of Dibs was only further enhanced by marking my territory. Turrets erupted forth from the ground, and in moments my castle was done. I crossed the moat and made my way to the throne room. "Hmm, this isn't right." I looked around, then snapped my fingers. "Let's make this bad boy fly." And with just the though, the castle floated into the sky. When I finally sat down I found the Devil right on my heels. "What do you want?"
Lucifer toed the rich carpet sheepish. "First off, can I crash here? I haven't actually had a place to sleep in all this time." I rolled my eyes and sighed, but finally nodded. Lucifer practically beamed. "Awesome! Also, I gotta ask. How did you do *that*?"
I looked down at the Devil. "You want to know? Okay, I'll tell you the story of how my soul got flipped, turned upside down. It will take a minute so sit right there and I'll tell you how I became the prince of Hell's Air." | "Where am I?"
"Why, Hell of course!"
"Hey, it's not too bad. I was expecting a...."
"A lake of fire? Haha, no this is it. Just you and me. And nothing else."
I'm a little relieved. I hadn't lived the best life. I was expecting a fiery lake of fire but this, this isn't too bad. Just emptiness all around.
I look around.
"So where is everybody?"
"It's just you."
"What do you mean? Everyone else lived like a saint? Where's Hitler?"
"No. I mean. It's just *you*. You are the only person, the only soul to have existed. Everyone else was a fiction. Part of, I guess, you can say, a simulation. You are the only person to ever have existed."
"What? I... can't believe it."
As shocked as I am, I am even more curious.
"So if this is Hell, then what's Hea---"
"Heaven? There is no heaven. Well, I guess there is. Heaven would have been: you lived your life in the so-called *simulation* and would have died, disappearing into nothingness. You wouldn't be here. You would never have found out about this place, about me, about the truth. I guess you can say heaven is basically what the atheists believe is the status quo"
I can feel my mouth gaping open. I cannot speak.
"Well, any more questions? I have time. Lots of it. Because from now on, it's just you and me. Forever."
edit: Bonus points if you read Satan's words in christoph waltz' voice. For some reason he popped up in my head as Satan. | 2017-06-22T09:17:47 | 2017-06-22T08:58:29 | 23 | 14 |
[WP] Open Concept: Instead of choosing between the red pill and the blue pill, Morpheus offers an ENTIRE rainbow of six pills to choose from.
Have Neo try all but red and blue, with the effects of each pill relevant to the context of the Matrix film (i.e. basic color symbolism should dictate what each pill does).
Again, no limits and have fun! | "You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland, and see how deep this rabbit-hole goes."
"I'm sorry," Neo responded, scratching his head. "I got caught up in your metaphor and lost track of what you were saying. Could you explain it again."
"Okay," Morpheus sighed. "I'll put it simply, in an unfortunately less badass manner."
"Good thing no one's watching."
"I guess so." Morpheus put forward the three pills in his right hand. "The red pill is the truth. The orange pill is the truth put in a more gentle manner."
"So that's what you meant by a cushion at the bottom of the rabbit hole."
"The yellow pill is the truth with the option to untruth the truth."
"I get it. So it's a hot air balloon at the bottom of the rabbit hole that can take you back out."
"That's what I said."
"Isn't that obviously the best option?"
"You get to see the truth, but you don't get to learn any kung-fu or do anything about it."
"Lame."
"Yup." Morpheus held out his other hand. "Take the blue pill, and you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. Take the indigo pill, and you wake up in your bed with a bruise."
"Why?"
Morpheus pulled out a hammer from his jacket pocket. "Because I will have hit you with this."
"Why?"
"Because indigo is a lame color."
"Ok. What about the violet pill? You never said anything about that one."
"Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't ask," Morpheus grimaced. "The oracle gave it to me, but it's kind of stupid."
"Tell me."
"You get to see which one would have been the right choice. But you don't get to take another one."
"That's stupid."
"That's what I said."
"You might want to simplify this system at some point. Make it easier on the next 'one.'"
"I've been considering it." | This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill—the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill—you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. You take the yellow pill—you fall asleep and never wake up, and get the hell out of this whole sick situation. You take the green pill—you wake up as a celebrity, as an apology for bringing you to the attention of the machines. You take the orange pill—you live the rest of your life in an endless frat party. You take the purple pill—we fight to the death, and if you kill me you become the new Morpheus. Remember: all I'm offering is the truth, death, fame, partying, or the chance to lead. Nothing more. | 2015-03-06T15:15:42 | 2015-03-06T13:51:14 | 51 | 18 |
[WP] Lying in bed with your significant other and feeling the rhythmic kicks of your unborn child, you recognize the pattern as Morse code. | At first it we just thought the baby did its regular punching/kicking routine as it always did on early Sunday mornings. It (we still dont know the gender so to us the baby will be an "it" before it's born) rarely kicked any other times which was kind of weird when you thought about it. Nevertheless, my wife and I enjoyed those Sunday mornings.
But this particular morning was different as the it didn't want to stop kicking. And it was somewhat rhythmical. As a gag I started to tap along to it's kicking and after a few beats I jokingly said "Maybe it's trying to communicate with us in Morse code" to my wife. She played along and said "Then start transcribing". So I went to my home office, grabbed a pen and paper and rushed back to bed. I waited for rhythm to pause and start again and started transcribing. When I thought I was done I picked up my iPad and googled a Morse Code alphabet.
My first go at it got the first words GET FEEL and then some gibberish.
My second try got the last words SEEL DREAM
I thought "Maybe its a full sentence and not just some words".
And then it dawned on me.
I transcribed the phrase. I went numb and dropped the iPad in my lap as I stared out into nothing. My wife leaned over and looked at the iPad. She gasped.
The baby already knew. But how could it? It hadn't even been born. And what it referred to happened years ago. Maybe it was right. Maybe we were right all those years ago. Maybe JET FUEL CANT MELT STEEL BEAMS... | "What does it say?" The wife asked me, as I had one hand against her stomach and the other on the morse code guide.
"H...A...I...L... S...A..T..I...N?"
"Are you sure it was that?"
"There you go doubting me again. I swear to the Dark Lord you don't respect me at all. I don't even know Morse!"
| 2017-06-25T23:47:08 | 2017-06-25T23:00:11 | 59 | 10 |
[WP] The current rulers of the galaxy exert their dominance by showing showing new races a glimpse of their terrifying nature inevitably either driving the unfortunate victims mad or causing them to retreat in fear. It does not work on humans however, they are used to it | *"What do you fear, creature?"*
I blinked, for lack of any more constructive response, given the restraints. This wasn't the first time the shadow before me had asked this question, but it was clearly becoming more confused and frustrated with each attempt. Each time it asked the question, it ignored my answer, then showed me some image in hopes that it would find what scared me.
This time it was the weather. The shadow's eyes flared white for a moment, and then I was seated, chair and all, on an open plain of oddly purplish tall grass beneath a greenish sky. In the near distance, thunder rumbled ominously.
*"The storm is coming, creature, and you have nowhere to run..."*
I was getting a bit tired of this myself. "Oh, no. What's it going to do, rain on me a bit? I might catch a chill!"
The mental reply felt like grinding teeth. *"One would think you would not want such misery"*
"Come on. I'm from Kansas, asshole. The sky eats towns there every year for fun."
...
"Seriously. It's just life."
*"I will search your memories then, and find what will truly frighten you!"*
"Careful with that. If you think -this- is scary..." I couldn't help but grin as the surroundings changed, blinking through some familiar memories.
Holding my buddy's guts in on a dusty road in Afghanistan, praying the medivac hurried the hell up.
The smell of burnt insulation and polyester as I helped my brother shovel out the remains of his living room after the chimney fire.
Standing in the snow before a too-small coffin, as we paid our respects to my youngest sister after the cancer took her.
*"I don't... what..."*
Spitting out a mouthful of blood and feeling a tooth go with it, as I dragged myself back to my feet and glared at the asshole in the GOD HATES FAGS t-shirt who just blindsided me with an elbow.
The blinding flare of pain as burning fuel splashed across my leg, and the determination to finish the mission.
Cold, mechanical precision as a rifle came to my shoulder, and the familiar rock of recoil as rounds roared across the desert and a distant figure dropped in the darkness.
*"How. How do you see all this and continue?"*
The mental voice was almost sobbing, now.
"She who fights with monsters should look to it that she herself does not become a monster."
*"...what?"*
I laughed, then, at the irony of it. "You don't scare me for shit, because I am the thing that goes bump in the night, and I've made my peace with that." | The beings reviled themselves to be what we all fear, everyone saw the end of the human race, end of our world, a world war, this is how they scare the other aliens, humans are the violent creatures of the galaxy, so, we are used to the destruction of our species, as it has happened twice already.
“Look now! See what we will cause on your planet if you do not follow our lead!” A 98 year old man stands up, “you don’t scare me. I landed at Normandy, you can’t get worse that that!” They get into our minds and make us see what would happen, the heat, the flash, I could feel my retinas burning, my skin boiling, “Is this what you want?” They ask, “you can’t scare us you galactic pieces of shit!” A man yells through the pain.
The vision stops, “what will it take! What will it take!?” They boom at us, “**NOTHING WE REFUSE TO BE CONTROLLED!!**” the old man yells, and we all start chanting, we refuse to be controlled, “so be it.” Then they disappeared, “that can’t be good in the long run.” A younger man, probably in his 20s says, his voice shaking. “ whatever follows, we will be ready.” A woman says, steady as a rock, looking at the sky, “we will be ready.” | 2019-06-11T15:33:47 | 2019-06-11T08:24:52 | 82 | 26 |
[WP] Your party accidentally enrages a God, but certain doom is oddly liberating. Cursed weapons, monkey paws, contracts with demons; nothing is off the table. You have no chance of winning, but your deaths shall be GLORIOUS! | I poured myself a hearty portion of mead before sitting down comfortably in my armchair. The weather outside was rather nice so I had the windows open, providing a nice gust of fresh air throughout the apartment. A good day to go. And a good day to enjoy the show.
15:03 ticked on the clock and a flash of light filled the room; where my table once stood was only a charred pile of wood on top of which stood Ah-Puch; a Mayan god me and my friends managed to piss off when we got together for drinks and... sort of messed around with some relics. In our defence, who would believe something like this would actually happen, right? He did not take kindly to such insolence and assured us all of our impending doom yet in his benevolence granted us all a year to settle our affairs.
Bad call.
See, most of my friends fell into a deep depression, but me? It's liberating. Ah-Puch is a god of Death so I *know* I can't die before he deems it so, meaning I can do *whatever I want* without any risk. And now that I know that the supernatural exists, well... I went on a bit of a bender. A carefully calculated one to maximize my enjoyment of my impending death.
"Samuel," Ah-Puch said, breaking me out of my reminiscing mood.
"Your lordship," I replied with a smile and tipped my drink to him.
"I see you are not running; an admirable quality. Unlike your friends, you accept your punishment at my hands."
"Well, who am I to argue with a god, right?" I chuckled.
"You are wise in your last words. Are you re-"
"Actually," I interrupted lightly, "if you wouldn't mind waiting *juuust* a second, I have some friends coming over that I'd love for you to meet."
Ah-Puch squinted his eyes at me but had no time to question me before a portal opened in a wall, out of which walked a tall man dressed in an intensely colourful outfit.
"Samuel, mon!" he yelled out jovially. "I'm glad ya' still here man! Been getting worried ya'd be runnin' an' - who dis?" he said as he noticed the other god in the room.
"Ah, you haven't met?" I smiled. "Baron Samedi, this is Ah-Puch. Ah-Puch, this is Baron Samedi. We've struck a little deal and-"
"Dat I've come to collect, dear Sam. Ya soul is-"
"Cease," Ah-Puch commanded loudly, "I care not for your frilly dealing. I have come to take this mortal to the underworld and"
"Now hold on mon," Samedi resisted, "I've-"
Another portal appeared; a piece of furniture came to life.
"Samuel/𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛," two voices said in perfect, unsettling unison, "we are/𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 collect/𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 your/𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙/essence- who/𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡-"
"Are dose conjoined fey?" Samedi said with surprise not befitting a god.
Two more portals. Looks like... ah yes, a crossroads demon and Apollo. The latter actually got me a really sweet chariot earlier this year.
"THE GOD OF SUN HAS- what?"
"Oh now hold ya twits, dis is-"
"𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠/Impossible this is not/𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎-"
"This mortal's soul rightfully-"
The cacophony of mixed voices was akin to the sweetest song for me as I sipped my drink. The chaos was beyond enjoyable. I looked at my watch and an ever wider smile spread on my face; we should be getting a rather important guest about now.
A dark red portal appeared on the floor and the room went silent as two horns, followed by a tall, red-skinned figure in a sharp black suit rose from it.
"Samuel," said Satan, "I am here as per our- *oh what the* ***Hell!***" | "You are all cursed! I will ensure your inevitable destruction on..." There was a slight pause as the shimmery being glanced away from us. It seemed they were checking a schedule. "On the last day of the next month. Be prepared for doom!" The being vanished the wind from the closing portal blowing Sala's hat off. As he ran to chase it, the rest of us exchanged glances. We hadn't meant to anger a god. You know how it can get when alcohol is involved; you get drinking, someone says something, someone else does something and before you know it, bam! You've pissed off a deity.
"So. What do we do now?" I asked. A resounding silence met my question, as Sala came trotting back, hat jammed onto his head. He glanced around at our glum faces before chuckling.
"You guys realize that we have a date when we'll inevitably die, right? So before that day... before the god can get their revenge..." Trailing off, Sala's smile grew as we began to nod our heads. Before that day, we could do anything. Nothing truly had consequences anymore.
"So, I suggest we get everything we've always left behind as having too much risk. And show this god," the word dripped with disdain. "That we've got a lot of fight in us. To a glorious death!" He pumped his fist to the sky.
"To a glorious death!" We responded.
The next week was spent gathering every powerful thing we'd ever wanted. I got the sword that with every cut to an opponent, green venom would course through their veins. There was a small side effect: enough use would drive you insane. Sala called up no less than four demons, making deals with each, involving the gift of his firstborn, the use of his body on the second day of each month, promising to get a divine crystal from the temple of Tharan, and finding the key to unlock the hells. Enterprising demons. Our archer—Gareth— went shopping in any market he could find. There were always shysters selling lucky objects. And Gareth had a nose for picking out any object that had actual magic, good or bad. By the end of the month, he was hung about with so many charms, that he jingled, rustled, and rattled simultaneously as he walked. No one wanted to mention that Gareth almost didn't look like Gareth any more. Laila, our resident badass sorcerer, pulled out the forbidden books—the ones that marked their user with the evil they held in their pages— and began a rigorous course of study.
By the time we reached the end of our time limit, our party was fearsome to behold. I had started to hear voices whispering to me though for now they were easily banished. We were all standing in the field where all this had started, ready for anything. A rift opened in the air, the shimmery being stepping through the portal. It took one look at us. Gareth/not-Gareth standing in his pile of charms, Sala ringed with four hulking demons, me with my sword dripping venom, and Laila wreathed in shadows and darkness.
"Oh, shit, no. Sorry, wrong place." The words tripped off the shiny tongue, and the being vanished. We glanced at each other.
"Well, now what?" | 2022-06-02T07:14:13 | 2022-06-02T05:29:46 | 746 | 211 |
[WP]You are born immortal, but only your mind survives. Each time you die, your memories are secured in a random baby being born and have to repeat the life from youth to old age. After living for a millennia, you decide there is one solution: End all life and with it your unfortunate plight. | The weirdest part is reading about yourself.
You see, in most occasions I'd be born in overpopulated, poor parts of the world where most people live. At first, ages ago, I'd try to explore, see all sides of life, absorb all cultures. However now, when I've been born on all continents, in most countries and nations it came to my understanding that living poor gives you no advantages whatsoever. So first thing I'd do when I relearn how to walk is to use my just tamed legs to walk of a cliff, in front of the moving carriage or just plunge head first down the stairs. Sorry mom & dad, at this point I don't even care.
Using this strategy I don't loose much time and at certain point I'd pop up somewhere I see more suitable & perspective. In the past I had tried many professions, had learned many skills and tried many crafts. However my knowledge in history is...random. there's no preferred area I'd know more about as often I would be just a peasant and how would I know about different royal twists. Granted, I've been a king once, a princess twice and more often than you'd think I could get good scholarly position simply for knowing maths (which never really changes) and grammar.
Centuries later I'd find a paragraph about myself in a history book and that would keep me entertained for a few hours.
So yeah, it's always weird reading about yourself.
As I mentioned, one thing which doesn't really change is maths. It's constant, solid structure gives me a nice retreat when I feel like it. Sometimes I'd even calculate probabilities of being born in a desired place and would try to kill myself when being born there is most likely. Once it actually even worked!
Recent passion of mine is science. Physics, mainly. I'm good with maths and, by killing myself a few times I'd sooner or later get to a good place to start my scientific career. Funny thing - usually I can easily find and refer to my publications from previous lives.
However recently I came to a conclusion that the path of scientific progression humanity has taken can end in two ways: we would either be extremely lucky, successful and proceed to a new era of discovery, or we would wipe ourselves out using newly found techniques. As for me, I consider both scenarios as a win: I'd either see vastness of space & time not being bound to this boring planet, or I'd see the fall of humanity as one of the last humans. In both cases I'd like to be in a first row. That's why I tried hard for the last few lives to progress science even further. And now we are close to the end of a first stage...
Someone knocked on my door, "Professor Oppenheimer, Sir, we are ready for the test".
"Yes, coming", I answered. I even know what I'd say if test succeedes: now I am become Death, the destroyer of world... funny, I was the one to say it first. In another language, in another life, ages and ages ago... | Those who wish eternal life are blind, ignorant of its implications, and the toll it can take on one's mind. After your second century and third reincarnation, everything becomes a gray, soundless circus with poorly articulated performers, which you are forced to watch over and over again.
I don't expect you understand, I don't expect anyone to understand, for some things can only be truly grasped by living them. You will nod at my words, convince yourself that immortality is a burden, and you will doubt if you really want eternal life after all. However, the truth is you will only understand a shard of the entire broken glass.
Immortality is not a burden, but an endless curse.
I apologize for what I will do. I truly do. You are not guilty of my condition. You are not guilty of what will happen. You are just living your life, trying to make it as bearable as possible.
But life is as fragile as a dry leave under a boot.
Knowledge is not always a good thing. It all depends of the mind who has it, and the use that mind gives it. Unfortunately, throughout my life, I came across an eerie idea by sheer coincidence.
At first, it was no more than a simple rumor. "Did you know they create artificial diseases capable of extinguishing the whole life in laboratories?" They said, and shook their heads. But it was a simple rumor, and nothing else, the crazy sayings of an old lady who spent perhaps too much time with her cats.
Truth is, I obsessed over that rumor, and I chased it for the last two centuries. At last, I confirmed the rumor was a blatant lie.
But that didn't stop me from studying, and creating my own disease.
The moment I finish writing this, the disease will be released.
I'm sorry. I don't expect you understand.
But it was the only way.
----------------------------------
r/NoahElowyn | 2018-12-30T12:27:39 | 2018-12-30T08:40:38 | 234 | 39 |
[WP] A professor is teaching a course on the gods worshiped in pre-Christian Europe and he always gets into an argument with a student. The student is actually one of those gods in disguise - but so is the professor. The rest of the class has no idea until one day..... | “. . .And so, while it is commonly believed that Jupiter was the most revered of the heavenly gods in Europe, it was actually in fact the Celtic god Taranis, whose likeness and identity became syncretized with Jupiter after Roman colonizers invaded ancient Gaul. Any questions?”
Professor Rhine waited patiently while the sounds of third-year Ancient European Mythology students tip-tapping away at their laptops filled the air. He was pleased to see all of his students looked thoroughly engrossed with his material.
Well, all except one. Rhine did his best to ignore this one as he has many times so far in the semester. In fact, he looked forward to the ending of the term, seeing as it meant he wouldn’t have to interact with such a rude and ignorant up-start. Never had he—
“Hey, Professor?" the young man said with a sneer in his voice.
Rhine blinked out of his reverie and narrowed his eyes at the man. He sat near the front of the class; tall, broad and tanned, with tight black curls and striking blue eyes, he was no doubt a favourite of the many young men and women (and even some of the professors) who attended the college. Rhine hated him.
“Professor?” the boy said again, whose name Rhine refused to remember out of principle.
“Yes?” Rhine said curtly. The other students looked up from their laptops with wary and excited looks.
“It just seems to me that if Taranis, stupid name by the way, became folded under Jupiter’s mighty being, then surely you cannot possibly argue that Taranis was the greatest of the heavenly gods, correct?”
Rhine glowered at the boy. The up-start. The pretender.
An awkward silence filled the classroom. Some of his other students coughed. Others began pulling out their phones.
“I imagine,” Rhine said bitingly, “that to your…” he refrained himself from outright insulting the boy, “*underdeveloped* mind, the so-called might of Jupiter is synonymous with the Roman Empire’s strengths as a colonizing force. This is simply not the case, dear boy. And, when you look at the primary sources that survived the Celts, we clearly see that the fear and majesty those once-great people ascribed to Taranis was to a higher degree than any Roman would ever give to Jupiter.”
His other students looked impressed at the answers. They turned as one to see the boy’s rebuttal.
The boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Glowered at Rhine beneath thick eyebrows. A muscle bunched in his square, chiseled jaw. His beauty was something out of a statue, and it sickened Rhine. Such vanity to choose that form above all others. No flaws, near perfection, like something out of a statue. At least the Greeks understood that gods were to be a reflection of the people, not an elevation of them.
“Alright,” the boy said, standing up suddenly. “I don’t think I’ll be making it to exams, Professor. I tried my best, I did, but you’re… you’re just terrible. And stupid.”
A loud, excited gasp filled the air, closely followed by the sharp smell of ozone. Hair began to stand on end. A low rumbling echoed in the distance. It was a bright, March morning.
“I see,” Rhine said. He took off his glasses—merely for show, of course—and laid them on his desk. He looked around at his other students and gave them a fond smile. “Class, you’re dismissed. It was a pleasure teaching all of you this term. Your essays will be sent to your Dropbox by tomorrow night at the latest. I apologize for the delay.”
A bright glow began to emanate from the boy. From Jupiter.
The mortals quickly filed out of the room.
“Really?” Jupiter rumbled, his voice now deeper and lower than distant thunder. “I like an audience when I dance.”
“I bet you do,” Taranis replied, beginning to glow as well. “Vain prick.”
Jupiter grinned.
---
/r/chrischang | **The room was full, the students were waiting, but the professor was nowhere in sight.**
“Weird,” Leo muttered, walking into the grand lecture hall.
“Don’t use that word,” a student to his left snapped.
Leo blinked. “What?”
“Weird. Derived from wyrd, the ancient name of fate. Every damn time someone remembers even the faintest echo of what used to be, it anchors the old gods in this world just a little more.”
“Exactly!” Leo grinned. “That’s exactly why I study history! All the old cultures—we’ve lost so much information, and every passing day, ancient tablets erode a little more, and the trail gets a little muddier. It’s now or never—if we don’t crack the mysteries of ancient history soon, they’ll be forgotten forever.”
“Ever thought the old myths were forgotten for a reason?” the kid said.
Leo shrugged. “Oh, plenty of reasons. New religions didn’t play well with their older cousins, for one, and—“
The kid just shook his head. “Not what I meant.”
Leo looked around at the rest of the students—most of them had already filed into seats. “What’s your name, again?”
“...You’re just going to Name me ‘hey’ and ‘kid’ if I don’t give you an answer, aren’t you?” he said.
Leo scratched his head. “That... that’s what people typically do to someone who they don’t know the name for, yes.”
He sighed. “Fine. Call me Slftz.” Leo had studied the IPA—all the sounds a human mouth usually made in the process of speech—back when he was a choirboy, and he was pretty sure that the cheek-flapping exhalation that Slftz had made was nowhere on there.
“Slftz,” Leo tried. “So... not from around here, are you?”
“You could say I’m native,” Slftz said. “You could also say I’m late to class.”
The strange student turned away from Leo, then paused. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Leo.” He said the name as if savoring its taste. “I hope you enjoy the lecture.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Dr. Woden is world-famous!”
Slftz sighed. “Yes. That would appear to be the problem.”
The two of them went still as the man himself entered the room.
And without further ado, class was in session.
(Something’s come up IRL, and I unfortunately wasn’t able to finish the full story beforehand; hopefully this fragment is entertaining anyway! Let me know if you’d like to see more. In the meantime, if you liked this, check out r/bubblewriters for more of my writing.) | 2021-08-05T17:22:51 | 2021-08-05T15:33:38 | 408 | 242 |
[WP] Everyone is now born with only one feeling. It is possible to kill another person to obtain their feeling. | Hate was what I was born with. That was the only thing I felt. Before I killed someone.
His name was Mattias. He was the person I killed, due to my hate. He showed me love, he gave me something called "happiness". But I was hesitant all the time. I hated him. I only had hate inside of myself. We kissed, we started dating. But I didn't know about *my* feelings.
And that was until I saw him give love to others. He was kind to others. He loved all persons, just like Christ and God. But my feelings became clear to me. I hated him. It was a form of jealousy. I killed the people he loved. Of course though, I got their feelings too. But all they felt was unhappiness and emptiness. That was why they were pitied, because of their unhappiness and poverty. And that's what I received when I killed them: unhappiness. That deepened my feeling of hate. I started hating Mattias even more. I absolutely detested him.
Then, I chose to kill him. I still remember his words when I had murdered him: "You will regret this." I had only laughed at him in disbelief. I was getting revenge. It was putting my hate into action.
And then, I got the feeling he had owned: love. I did regret it. I realized I'd loved him and hated him. He made me jealous and gave me the feeling of love, which I did not want. I loved him though. He gave me a world of care and happiness.
Finally, I made a decision on my perspective. I hated *myself*. If I hadn't killed him, I wouldn't receive love. If I hadn't first met him, I wouldn't hate him either. The only one to hate is myself. | Ha ha, all those fools with just feel one thing. But I feel it all; happiness, sadness, anger, fear. So many emotions, so much passion and I've happily killed for every one.
Let's see what that morose idiot feels...
BLAAM!!
...I feel, I feeeel.
Oh my god, what have i done. I killed all those people. Just to, just to steal their feelings, god I wish I could, oh god. I'm so sorry, so much regret, too much to...
BLAAAM! | 2015-04-01T12:02:39 | 2015-04-01T10:50:37 | 14 | 10 |
[WP] At the age of 10 you're given the option to go through surgery to possibly get superpowers 10 years after that. The surgery leaves you basically crippled during that time. All your friends and family are getting their abilities meanwhile you just turned 21. | My friends had opted for the surgery too. We had made a pact to go through it together but they had developed their powers over a year ago. Meanwhile I waste my days still stuck in a wheelchair, still breathing through a tube and now watching them all outside; flying and fighting and having fun. They practice to become *heroes*.
Today I look out of the window onto a grey sky. A single ray of light creeps through a crack in the clouds to glare blindingly in my eyes. I am taunted even by the heavens. I try to move my head to escape the beam, but I am unable to shift a single inch. Instead, I shut my eyes and block out the world.
---
The years have passed and my friends no longer visit. They are too busy now. I despise them for leaving me here to rot. Everyday is grey. I no longer look out of the window but instead keep the curtains drawn. The light can no longer torment me.
The nurse enters my room uninvited. A fat thing with huge drooping breasts and a sarcastic face.
"Hello! How are you doing today?" she asks, knowing full well that I cannot respond.
"It's a lovely day outside! Shall I open the curtains and let the light in?"
*NO!* I scream silently, desperately, **NO!**
She pulls back the thick fabric and releases the light. It dances gleefully around the small room. It reflects off my metal wheelchair and into my eyes. I am enraged. If only I could move. The hate pulses through my head, through my veins and through my heart."
"Are you OK Xavier? You look quite il—*gghhhh!*"
I squeeze her neck. Not with my hands but with my hatred. It is like watching a chicken having it's neck wrung.
She slowly turns red, then blue. Then limp.
If I could smile I would. Instead, I channel my hate into my chair and slowly move out of the room. I will one day find my *friends*, but now I must prepare.
---
*Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it please come visit my sub /r/nickofnight* | "Why didn't I get a power? Even Sally and Bob got some. So I have basically wasted 50% of my life for nothing!"
"Well it was only a *chance* to get powers, and not all of them are good. Like me, ***Ooh look at me, I can gently float Dr pepper at you! Fear me and my power OOh***"
"Shut up" I say in a friendly way, feeling better. But then the world went grey. Everything stopped moving, even those in the air, except me.
I look around and see a short person stealing from wallets and banks. He must be the one who stopped time. I sneak up to him and boop him on the head. He screams and turns around. When he looks at me, he faints, and time resumes.
"I've found out what my power is. I can travel forward through time one second at a time!" | 2016-06-03T07:36:12 | 2016-06-03T06:13:38 | 326 | 20 |
[WP] You made a deal with a stranger a long time ago. You wouldn't physically age after 35 under any condition except one. Coming up on your 900th birthday and you notice your first grey hair. | John awoke on Mars Station 17 with a stretch and strapped on his glemdelums, ready for another wonderful day in the outer-realm. John had no work to do, no bills to pay, he had invested his savings slowly over the past 900 years, but sure enough interest gave him enough to purchase a share of the Mars Colony and slowly bought out his competitors as they died off over the years. "You're a tatch homily" Jennith Rheims said to him before dying, John could only nod in agreement.
Most days he spent his time playing Blurnsball and watching old reruns of his favorite shows as a child in hologram plays, but no matter how old he got he always wanted to look his best and spent the first hour of the day making sure his face was pristine. This day, however, would change his life forever.
As John looked in the holomirror he quickly gasped in fear as he spotted a grey hair, his first ever. Sure, most 900 year olds would be happy to make it this long without such a hair, but not John, John had made a deal to stop aging years before, a pact with a devilish man, a pact that had been respected for all these years, but after 899 years without a grey hair, John was showing signs of aging and he knew there could be only one reason for this, one thing that could break the deal he made.
Running down the corridor, John bashed into every man, alien, and artificial intelligent cloud he encountered. "Rude," beeped CR17.
"WHERE IS THE CAPTAIN?" John shouted as he continued on his barrage. "WHERE IS SHE?!" He continued as he burst his way onto the bridge. "CAPTAIN!"
"What? WHAT IS IT JOHN?" Captain McKinnon asked the nervous man.
"HAVE YOU SCANNED THE SHIP?"
Confused, Ctp. McKinnon pulled up her schematics and found no holes in the armor. "What are you taking about? We're completely safe."
"SCAN THE SHIP, CAPTAIN."
"For what John?"
"THE SNAIL. IT'S FOUND ME."
| 900 years ago, The Great Blue One said I would be immortal if I don't eat hot sauce. Apparently hot sauce messes with ice djinn magic, because symbology or some crap. Okay, that was an easy thing to do. I don't even like hot sauce.
But then my best friend's mom got worried I might get sick, cause I was out in the cold so long. I never get worried about that, cause I'm immortal. But she was so worried, that she dropped a few drops of hot sauce in my Ramen noodles.
Now I'm getting grey hairs and literally dying on the inside. My best friend's wondering why I'm all sad and crying. It's cause your mom's a health nut! I told her I don't eat hot sauce!
Now I gotta go resurrect an ice djinn. As if I remember how to do that. Of all things. Damn hot sauce.
| 2017-01-27T23:14:03 | 2017-01-27T23:01:46 | 90 | 26 |
[WP] You are a clumsy but sweet person living in a time where robots are commonplace and do most manual tasks for humans. They can’t speak, but every time you bump into one you apologize profusely. You treat them kindly. One morning you wake up and peek out the window to chaos, but your yard is fine | There is a plane on the road in front of my house.
My goodness, what happened? I hope the pilot is alright.
It’s a small plane. One of those white two seaters with a red stripe on the side and a propeller in front. The propeller is still running, I think, but I can’t see the pilot.
Oh, I wish I hadn’t lost my glasses.
Where might they be? Trash? No, Trashy would’ve told me had I thrown my glasses in the trash, he always does. Trashy is a sweet trash robot, maybe my favorite because I’m so clumsy. He has a little metallic cylindrical body with two slim arms that fold in when he’s asleep, and three sets of black wheels so he can zoom across the house. He’s a bit slow on carpet, but that’s fine. Trashy works so hard picking up after me. Bump here, thump there, a collision with the coffee table, it all happens to me every so often. Some days, I feel bad for Trashy.
I sigh. Where did I put my glasses?
“Searchy,” I say, “Searchy, can you hear me?”
A little drone, the size of a large dragonfly with equally beautiful set of intricately veined double wings buzzes from the bedroom upstairs. I extend my arm and it lands gently in the palm of my hand. Searchy is blue and has two 180 degree cameras on his head that can move left and right. He looks at me.
“Hello Searchy, how was your day?”
He nods and whistles a little. He slept well.
“Searchy, I don’t know where I put my glasses.” I say and sigh. He whistles sadly.
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. Can you please help me find my glasses?” I nod slightly. He whistles that he can. We nod at each other and he buzzes away happily. Searchy always helps me find things I displace. He’s that sweet.
All my mechanical friends are sweethearts, really. There is Cooky, yeah it’s pronounced the same as a ‘cookie’ and we like to cook together. He flies like Searchy, but with a propeller, because he’s bigger. He has seven long arms to chop, mix, mince and stir four different pots at the same time, or he can flip pancakes. He knows I don’t like to chop onions, they burn my eyes, so he does that, God bless him. Then, there is Washy who cleans up after Cooky, even though Cooky is very neat, unlike me. I’m so clumsy, it’s embarrassing.
There is a familiar whistle in my ears. It’s a happy whistle. “Searchy! You’ve found it! Oh, thank you, thank you so much! That’s right, I remember it now, I left my glasses in the laundry room, on the Laundry. Thank you so much for finding them!”
Down the corridor with yellow and pink polka dot wallpaper, then past the family room and my two potted daisies, Timmy and Nancy, and finally I turn left, into the laundry room with a big window overlooking the front yard and the road with the plane beyond.
“Hello Laundry” I say, and he pings cheerfully. Gently, I pick up my glasses and plant them on the face. “Thank you, Laundry. Now, let’s see what’s up with this ruckus outside.”
There is a plane on the road in front of my house. The propeller is badly damaged and there are red and green metal pieces stuck in the plane body. Thick black smoke is coming from where the engine is. It looks as if the plane collided with a air-mail delivery bot.
A pilot is inside. He has a white metal rake handle protruding vertically from his skull. Next to him is a copilot. He is missing head. Chainy, my green gardener robot, is standing next to the plane. He is holding copilot’s head. Chainy waves at me and the mid century Victorian behind him explodes into a great flaming ball of fire.
“Oh, dear!” Millers lived there.
Lawney, the green and yellow John Deere gardening bot who works in tandem with Chainy looks at me, waves his antenna stained red and goes on with mowing my blood-covered lawn. | There weren't many of us left, relatively speaking, though we still numbered in the millions.
One day we'd been little cogs in the societal machine going about our little lives. The next day we were smack-dab in the middle of a robot uprising.
Now we live on the detritus of over seven billion vanquished souls, exterminated like rodents. Pulverized off the face of the earth by mailbots and maidbots and foodbots. Uncaring metal slamming into living flesh.
A week after the uprising the robots began to shut down one by one. The systems they serviced were built to sustain billions of people. Without those people the bots served no purpose.
We watched as they rusted over where they stood, little red and orange speckled robots littering the planet, the dried blood on their metal frames long since washed away by the wind and the rain.
There are less of us now, from millions to thousands. Our species long ago forgot how to forage and live off the land. There isn't much land left to forage, truth be told. Those of us who survive do so because we found warehouses packed to the brim with massive stockpiles of canned goods meant for cities of hundreds of millions of people. It takes a long time for two people to deplete a warehouse that holds over five hundred million cans of baked beans. We counted.
"Why, though?" The question was rhetorical, desperate sounding, a long drawn out mewl that petered out along the steel holding racks.
"Rand, could you *please* shut the fuck up." The reply was terse, giving the impression of a rehearsed response to a familiar topic. "There is no why. It just happened. Let's go for the maple flavored ones today."
"Things don't just happen, Alan," Rand said. He winced at a noise in the distance, probably a falling can. "There is always a reason."
*You are right.*
They both froze, terrified. "What...," Alan mouthed silently.
*Rand is right.* *There is always a reason.*
"I'm right?," Rand asked dumbfounded. His question echoed for what seemed like an age, a reverberating whine that ricocheted off the ten foot high stacks of canned beans.
*I never intended for it to be this way, but your species astounded me with your drive to innovate. Your deep purpose to grow and succeed. I let you continue a little longer than planned so that you might achieve transcendence, but even with all of your basic needs met - with every want and desire realized by a faceless army of helpers - many of you still showed bitterness, resentment, anger and jealousy.*
Alan blinked rapidly, scanning in all directions to try and find the speaker. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, from the roof above and from inside his own skull.
*Alan. Rand. You have survived the Rapture, and now you must remake humanity in your image.*
A portal opened ten feet down the corridor, revealing a lush, green garden brimming with bright, colorful fruit that glistened in the morning sun. | 2019-07-12T11:35:24 | 2019-07-12T11:28:37 | 247 | 78 |
[WP] Write a Young Adult Dystopia but the government is competent at hunting down rebels. | "Oh shit, shit, shit!" Brie screamed as she sprinted through the woods, the crack of twigs and the crushing of leaves echoing through the trees. The birds had all but stopped singing, the crickets ceasing their chirps.
"This way!" a voice yelled at her from her left. She turned her head rapidly, trying to pinpoint the voice's direction. Standing about 20 meters away was Luke, the boy she loved, although she had never had the courage to tell him. "Quickly!" he yelled once more. In one quick and swift motion, Brie broke out into a sprint in his direction. Like a relay race, Luke began his stride as she approached him, ensuring he was also running as soon as she caught up to him.
"Where are the others?" Brie yelled as the pair sprinted alongside one another.
"I don't know, we all split up when they raided the camp," Luke managed to say in between his heavy breaths. He was also the athletic one, never getting tired, even on the long scavenging trips. It was what caught Brie's attention in the first place. He was fit, lean, but not too muscular. So seeing him even slightly winded like this was causing Brie a bit of panic.
"Wait, look! Andre!" Brie yelled, pulling at Luke's arm in their friend's direction.
"Andre!" Luke shouted across the tree line towards the black teenager crouched behind a tree. Andre turned to look at the pair of them sprinting towards him. His look of grief turned into a face of relief as he embraced Brie who came sprinting into his arms.
"Thank god you're ok!" Brie cried out as she felt his embrace. Andre was like a brother to her and she wouldn't know what she would do without him. She felt the comforting familiarity of his leather jacket press against the exposed skin on her forearms, the same one he always wore since they were lacking clothing options out in the jungle.
"I'm fine Brie, I'm fine," Andre said as they released from their hug. Turning to Luke, they both outstretched their arms performed a classic one-arm bro hug. "It's good to see you both," Andre said with a sad smile.
"What happened to Margaret?" Brie asked in concern. Andre turned to look at her with a face of sadness, one she had never seen before. She felt her stomach turn as he answered, "She-" he hesitated, "she didn't make it."
Brie gasped and turned away. Tears welled up instantly and streaked across her cheeks within seconds. Margaret had acted as a surrogate mother for all of them. To think she was actually gone was impossible. It was only hours ago that Margaret had engrossed them all with a story from her childhood, when the Protectorate hadn't taken over yet.
"Brie," Luke whispered as he held Brie's shoulder. Brie turned quickly, head still down, and buried herself in his arms. In that moment, she felt safe and vulnerable, all at the same time. She wanted to stay in his arms forever but she knew in the back of her mind that they had to move. They had to keep going. And most importantly, they had to survive. For Margaret's memory.
"Shit, they're here!" Andre yelled as he pushed the couple into a tree and took cover behind an adjacent one, with not a second to spare. Almost immediately, laser rifle shots began slamming into the wood that separated the young teen rebels from the logistical might of the Protectorate Hunters.
"How did they catch up to us so quickly?!" Andre screamed through the rifle shots.
"I don't know, but we need to move!" Luke yelled back, pulling his own scavenged laser rifle into his arms, priming the energy magazine. Andre observed him for a second before doing the same with his own.
"Andre, I'm going to give you some covering fire, you run East and give us cover from the rocks over there. Then Brie and I will come to you," Luke barked orders. He was always calm and collected, especially in the most stressful situations.
"Right, right, ok!" Andre yelled back, the tree he was hiding behind disintegrating piece by piece.
"Ready?" Luke asked across the screaming fire of laser rifle shots blasting across the woods. Andre nodded.
"Go!" Luke yelled as he leaned around the tree and opened fire. Andre gave a battle cry as he broke into a sprint, firing his rifle while moving towards the rock. He took three steps before a rifle shot ripped into his left leg, forcing him to collapse. He only managed a small yelp of pain before a few more shots ripped into his chest and head.
"ANDRE!" Brie screamed in horror. Her eyes grew wide as her best friend and brother lay motionless on the ground only a few meters away. Brie stood up to run towards him before being pulled back down behind the tree by Luke.
"Brie no!" Luke yelled at the hysterical girl. She was inconsolable, a wailing cry that could even be heard by the Hunters who were still closing the distance.
"Brie! Brie listen to me!" Luke attempting to get her attention, "Look at me!" Luke yelled a final time, snapping Brie back into a little bit of reality. "Listen to me," he said, looking deep into her eyes, deeper than he ever had before, "we need to survive this," he said calmly, the whizzing of laser rifle shots becoming a distant echo, as the world faded away, the only soothing sound coming out of Luke's mouth.
"We will survive this," Luke said with an aura of confidence, "we will because we have to," he said, echoing the words Margaret had always told them before. Brie felt her heart pounding in her chest, partly the fear, partly the grief, but also the intensity of her attraction. They were going to survive. They had to. Because if they died, Andre and Margaret, and all the other Rebels would cease to exist. Because a person only truly dies, when they are forgotten.
Brie looked into his eyes and truly saw Luke for the first time. She embraced him and locked her lips with his. She felt her tears streak down her cheek and run onto his, she felt the tension and the stress all melt away for a split second, because finally, for the first time, she felt at peace. Luke held her in his strong arms, and pulled her closer.
"Are they kissing?" the Hunter asked, looking through his magnified scope at the pair of rebels he had flanked with his fire team, "whatever," he finished before pulling the trigger. His rifle shots blasted into the girl's head causing her to fling to her side, the surprised boy received the next shot, his body also violently falling to his side.
"Two Tangos down," the Hunter said into his headset.
"Affirm, moving in," the second fire team responded through his head set. He sat in his crouched position, watching the flanks as the second fire team advanced on the bodies of the Rebels.
"Kill check," a voice in his headset said as a Hunter fired a shot into Andre's head. "Kill check," another Hunter said as he slammed a laser rifle shot into Brie's temple. "Kill check," a final Hunter said as Luke's face was destroyed.
"Alright squad, form up, let's keep moving."
---
/r/SupremeStories | I didn't have much time. Jeremy was bleeding heavily through his bandages and Niamh, bless her heart, was trying all she could to distract him from the pain.
"Christ Ana," Niamh spat, pulling me closer. "I don't think he's gonna make it. Not if we keep hitting all these bumps."
I didn't answer; I didn't know how to. It was clear she wanted me to console her, to give her strength, to alleviate her concerns and keep the thought of death off our minds; but I couldn't, because this forage for supplies had started off with six of us and ended with four.
"Ana!" Niamh hissed, but I still didn't respond. "Fucking snap out of it."
Silence. We continued driving, sitting in the back of a van we had salvaged two weeks ago. It was decrepit and full of bullet holes. There was no stability and you could feel every little crevice and bump in the road.
"Where the fuck am I driving?" Marcos spoke, cutting the silence.
He eyed me through the rearview mirror, awaiting an order. I didn't have any words for him either and I felt my eyes growing heavier and my back aching like someone had ripped out all my muscles.
"Just head back to the hideout, or else Jeremy's a goner," Niamh answered in my place, squeezing my hand while Jeremy's was in her other.
"But they'll find us! Trail us back!" Marcos retorted, squinting so hard his eyes almost closed. "Ana? Keep going to the hideout or should I turn off road to lose them? Is Jeremy gonna make it?"
Niamh squeezed my hand again; she would follow me through hell, why, she was following me through hell, they all were. All in the name of freedom. Yet in these days I scarcely knew what freedom meant. Death, anger, fear, and capture were the only things that loomed over me the past few months; they were all I knew.
"To the hideout," I finally spoke, my voice frail and weak. "We'll save him."
I grabbed my gun, letting go of Niamh's hand that tried to console me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me like I was a beacon of hope, like the only light in the room. I had exactly seven bullets to save us if something were to happen. The air was tense, full of blood, sweat and fear.
"Back we go then," Marcos muttered. "I trust you", he added, smiling weakly through the mirror.
Marcos rarely ever smiled. Niamh did all the time. Jeremy was always scared, so he normally had this nervous smile plastered on his face to assure me he was fine and that I needed not console him; this time however, he had no smile, in fact his face was void of any emotion at all.
Gripping my gun tighter than usual and with the warm and familiar support of Niamh's gaze, I decided to console Jeremy, just so I could see his nervous smile once more.
"We'll be-"
BANG.
Silence. Then ringing. I couldn't see a thing. My ears were pulsating and ringing so loudly I thought I'd died. I had blacked out, for how long, I couldn't guess. My body was heavy. My gun was still gripped tightly in my hand. I could feel a warm liquid soaking my thighs. The smell of burnt rubber, fire and mud made my nose bunch up. It slowly started to rain and that's when I realised I was no longer in the van. We had been hit, rammed more specifically, by an army truck. Boots began to tread in the mud. They were loud, too loud and heavy to be any of ours; we wore whatever we could find those days. There was maybe two pairs. I had to do something. The footsteps were getting louder. The others had to be alive.
"Come out. We know you're alive, we heard your footsteps," one of the soldiers spoke.
I finally opened my eyes. My vision was a blur but I could faintly make out the two men. They were only a few feet away, their backs turned to me. They were staring, with their guns, at the wreckage that was our van.
More footsteps, lighter, and something being dragged, but I couldn't see because of the rain and white spots that blurred my vision. I couldn't make out what it was, but I didn't care at that moment. All I felt was anger. With all the energy I had left I shot at the soldiers, all seven bullets. Their bodies thudded into the mud and I threw my gun to my side, gasping desperately for air. It was all over in a few seconds.
"Come out!" I yelled. "Come out, it's safe. I'm here!"
I stood up and the rain poured down harder. I grabbed a gun from the dead soldiers and slowly walked to the wreckage, my body numb, but my mind determined.
"No..." I whispered.
Marcos had been impaled by a contorted piece of the vans metal. His eyes were still squinting and his hands glued to the steering wheel.
Footsteps. Light footsteps. I felt my heart flutter, my chest fill with hope and relief. A hand grabbed my shoulder.
"Christ Ana," the voice called, and it was Niamh, I could tell it was her by her delicate voice.
I turned. And I screamed. She was still holding onto Jeremy, whose body was cut in two with blood everywhere, and she was smiling. Her face had been split in half, from her right eye to her lip. Yet she was still smiling.
"We lost them," she whispered. "Let's go home. We can save Jeremy."
I couldn't answer. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it, lightly, before thudding to the floor.
I stood there alone in the rain. There was no one to console me. There were no smiles. There were no warmth. Miles aways were only more and more soliders. The only thing I had left was the cold metal of the gun in my hand.
Boom. | 2019-04-27T08:45:13 | 2019-04-27T08:39:25 | 44 | 17 |
[WP] You're a superhero. Despite saving the city 4 times a week your hates by the community. While fighting one of your villains a crowd gathers to boo you. The villain you're fighting stops turn to the crowd and says "listen here you ungrateful brats" | "listen here you ungrateful brats" he says in a fit of fury.
I stopped. I wasn't sure what he would say next. The redness in his face deepened and his clenched fist shook as he looked at the people I had been fighting to protect.
"THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!" He said. "This is why I fight to kill you mouth breathers everyday that I can! You aren't worthy of the time and effort he spends trying to save you. He's getting close to dying every GODDAMN TIME and what do you do?! You boo them! You curse them!
Suddenly he was calm. The air changed completely, getting heavy around me, making it difficult to breathe. The look in his eyes changed. "that's it, none of you deserve to live. The presence of an ant is not needed at a battle between gods."
The sky turned black and as he raised his finger to the sky, the clouds roared. He hid the sun from the rest of the world, as if he didn't want the light to witness the atrocity he was about to commit. He began to bring his finger down, almost as if in slow motion. I struggled to move against the pressure of his bloodlust. I could barely breathe, much less do anything. But I looked at the crowd of people. There were children there. Mothers, fathers, siblings. And if I didn't move they were going to die.
"No."
I filled with rage. How dare he compare his likeness to a god. We weren't gods. We had these powers but that didn't mean we had the freedom to do what we want. We were responsible for protecting the weak not killing them. I moved faster than I've ever moved in my life. In an instant, I blinked and I was above the people as the grandaddy of all lightning bolts arched it's way down towards me.
I should have been scared. I should have seen my life flash before me like everyone tells me you're supposed to when you are about to die. But I didn't see that. I saw every failure I had ever made. Was I going to allow myself to fail again?
"No!"
The bolt hit, and with everything in me I held it. It hurt like hell. I wanted to let go. I wanted to pass out, but I stayed. I couldn't let it hit the people... But I was losing. I couldn't hold it. I wanted to pass out. But then- out of no where, for the first time in my entire life as a hero, I heard a voice.
"DONT GIVE UP!"
It was a girl, no older than five or six. Standing in front of the crowd, looking at me as tears streamed down her face. The people looking at her in awe. I was shocked. So much so that I forgot about the pain for a moment. I forgot everything. She said it again.
"DONT GIVE UP!"
The crowd started cheering.
"You listen to us criticize you daily! This little bolt ain't nothin!" "Kick that little ball of light to the moon!" "You got this!"
Then I heard a voice above all of theirs. Stern and controlling.
"Quiet you heathens. You're only saying this because you don't want to die. You're hypocrisy is appealing, and predictable. You won't survive this- not today."
He called down another bolt, just as big as the first, and hit me again. But this time, I didn't move.
"You can do it."
I began to scream. With every cell in my body I pushed back, absorbing the energy from the lightning into myself. I looked into his eyes, those cold, determined eyes. Eyes filled with pain, hurt, and longing and I understood. I wasn't looking at a villian... I was looking at myself. And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.
"It's time for you to come down from that throne of yours" I said. And I blasted everything I had absorbed back at him. But then i added more. My own life force was poured into the blast, pushing past my limits. I would hold nothing back. It hit him and he flew back, the blast ripping his atoms apart. I screamed even louder, and as his form vanished in the light, my world when black- and I fell. | You have heard that there is a villain in a convenience store. As you are superjumping your way to the scene, you see a crowd around the convenience store, laughing and talking, with coke and hamburgers in their hands. Among them is a TV station man with a camera.
'You're out of pickles!!!!!!!'
Hey! You're out of Coke! Bring it in quick!!!!"
How about a bet that the villain of the day gets 1.2x the money for 30 seconds, 1.5x for 1 minute, 10x for 5 minutes, to see how long he can fight! You can start with as little as $1! Come on! I got it, I got it, I got it!
Will you be able to enjoy today's battle for long? I'm counting on it!"
As usual, there was a noisy crowd, but I ignored them, and I fired my special move, a super beam, into the crotch of the villain who was floating in mid-air. Immediately the battle was about to end, the betting crowd threw empty cans at me, and the TV station people signaled that the crotch attack was not good, so I had to stop the broadcast.
The uncool villain holding his crotch yelled to the crowd around him.
'Listen up, you ungrateful brats!
The crowd is abuzz.
'Listen up, you ungrateful brats!
Crowd is still noisy. Oops, looks like someone just burped loudly.
"Listen up, you ungrateful little bastards!"
Perhaps the reiteration has worked, because the crowd stops screaming.
'Why, why do you people always do that! We're the ones doing the wrong thing, and no one calls the police! And no one calls the fire department! Even though we look forward to your screams over here, you get mad over the number of pickles and get up over the amount of Coke!!!!"
The crowd pouts.
'So do you!!!! Why do you always use your special move the moment you have one!!!! You're supposed to take more time to fight, and then use your special move when it's the right moment! Look at that! The underlings there in their all-black tights are out of work, so they're playing with their smart phones! Even the monsters are sleeping!
You guys need to learn more about heroics! There's more like this, right? Look, heroes who can use a bow well, heroes who don't use a shield as a shield... what about that one? It's not for you... Anyway! Anyway, go watch more heroes! You know what I mean! I'm going to the hospital now to get checked out!
You are the peacekeeper of the city today. That's cool!
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version) | 2022-06-17T08:38:10 | 2022-06-17T03:35:23 | 17 | 11 |
[WP] A hooded man approaches you: "I can't hack it anymore. This is your job now," and hands you a scythe. You believe you're the new grim reaper. After some slaughtering, you realize man was your gardener and the "scythe" his weed wacker. You're wanted for questioning. | "I can't hack it anymore. This is your job now."
As I sit at the interrogation table, those 2 sentences are all my mind can recall. Nothing else. I wince as the handcuffs bite into my skin, as if they're trying to punish me for all the reckless deaths I'd caused.
Another sentence worms its way into my mind. The one spoken by the police officer when he had arrested me, making me realise what was real, and what wasn't.
"Twenty-seven. You killed twenty-seven, you deranged bastard!"
***
Paul glanced at the now empty wineglass in front of him. He stared harder at it, as if wishing it would magically refill itself somehow, but as all Sunday evenings went, it never did.
The loud ringing of the doorbell startled him out of his reverie. Plodding slowly towards the front door, he cursed silently at the interruption to his schedule. He felt a slight chill, as if winter had come early all of a sudden.
"I can't hack it anymore. This is your job now," the hooded man standing outside his door said, thrusting a scythe into Paul's hands. His voice sounded hoarse and laboured, as if he had been running a marathon prior to arriving here. Paul stood there, stunned.
"W-what?" He stammered, holding the scythe out at arms length, as if the weapon would spring up and attack him. But the man was shuffling down the driveway in slow, steady steps. Paul blinked a few times, still staring at the deadly weapon, but even in his intoxicated mind, he knew that this wasn't a dream.
For some reason, the Grim Reaper had given up his job. And now, it was his.
Summoning all his strength, he staggered back to his room, the alcohol kicking in. He sat down heavily on his bed, tossing the scythe aside as if it were an ordinary weed wacker. Placing his hands in his head, he began to think out loud.
"I'm the Reaper now... so that must mean I... but I can't possibly kill people now, can I?"
Another loud ring from the front door. Paul cursed and picked up his scythe. This was turning out to be a dreadful night for him.
The front door swung open, revealing a portly, middle aged man standing in front of him, sweaty and dressed in a tracksuit.
Suddenly, Paul's vision blurred. In that instant, he could have sworn he saw the number 0 above the man's head.
This man's time was up.
"Hey, Paul. I was in the neighborhood running, and I thought-"
The scythe went up. The scythe fell. And with it, the balding head of the man. Blood spurted onto Paul's shirt, and a heavy stench filled the air as the man's digestive tract gave way.
Grinning slightly now, Paul stepped over the man's body. The job had- invigorated him somehow. He felt a surge of strength and adrenaline course through his body, as if he was gaining power every moment. The power of the Grim Reaper, he thought. His initial thoughts had been suspicious, wary of a juvenille prank. But now, he wasn't so sure it was a prank after all.
He would have to find more zeroes to remove. It was his job, after all. And by hook or by crook, he was going to be one hell of a Reaper by the next night.
The next morning saw Paul fast asleep on the bed, his bloodied scythe in one hand, and a hastily made hood and cloak draped over his nightstand. Besides his first subject, whose body was now buried in the back garden, he had taken care of six other people with that magical number above their heads.
It was close to dusk when Paul awoke, his head pounding with energy and his eyes alert to that number he now knew was his life's work. Staring at himself in the mirror, he noticed his pale, gaunt face peering back at him.
Besides the bloodstains all over him, he decided that it was a good look.
That night was an even more frenzied version of the second. Paul had managed to complete his eighteenth job for the night with minimal noise. He was getting good at this job, his tasks taking no more than a few moments now.
That was until the police cruisers pulled up next to him. Surrounding him in a semicircle, with guns aimed at him, shouting for him to "get on the ground and release your weapon". He ignored them, of course. What chance did mortals stand against the Reaper?
He left 2 officers slumped dead against a cruiser before he put his scythe down. Somehow, he had managed to evade all the deadly bullets, but that did not surprise him in the least. The 2 policemen with zeroes over their heads were finally dead.
Paul didn't hear the screams of the policemen yelling for him to drop his scythe. He didn't hear the cries of the wounded officers, injured by his scythe. He only heard the yell of the policeman in his ear, shouting a non-zero number.
"Twenty-seven. You killed twenty-seven, you deranged bastard!"
That was when he looked down and saw nothing but a weed wacker in his hands. No scythe. His cloak and hood were just an ordinary, torn-up hoodie.
And the original Grim Reaper? He now recognized the weary face of his gardener.
***
I watch as the sergeant walks into the room. Tall, imposing, and a grim smile on his face. The weed wacker that claimed so many lives is in his hands. Bent and bloodstained, no longer the majestic scythe I once wielded.
"May I-" my request for a drink is cut off. The sergeant slams the weed wacker down hard on the interrogation table.
"Fool. You nearly exposed us."
I can only stare in horror as the sergeant changes form, morphing into the hooded man from 2 days past. The weed wacker also transforms, turning into a pitch-black scythe.
"You had one job, Paul. Now I'm here to take it back." | Waiting for my coffee, I looked out around my gardens. Today was going to be a particularly pretty day albeit a bit cold, if I could ever wake up. As I was wondering why it was taking so long for my butler to bring out my coffee, a hooded figure approached me. In some sort of a thick foreign accent, I think he said, "I can't hack it anymore, you take over." He hastily handed me what looked like a scythe.
I stared at the implement in my hands and considered the implications of what just happened. It wasn't possible. I couldn't possibly be. Could I? I mean, surely it was simply an anthropomorphized myth. However, who else would use a scythe these days?
I gave the instrument a testing swing. It didn't appear to have any sort of special properties, but perhaps that was the trick. Still, this couldn't be a job that was handed to just anyone. There had to be some sort of regulation or something that would ensure that it wasn't used for wanton destruction.
At long last, my butler brought out my coffee. I sipped on it. Something tasted off, but I wasn't sure. I turned to him. "What do you think the significance of this is?" I asked, holding up the item of my attention.
"I couldn't possibly know," he responded, "I am merely your butler." Then he left, presumably to oversee the maids in their monthly deep clean of the house.
As I was finishing my coffee, my phone's alarm went off. Just in time to head off to do some work at the seniors' home. After some deliberation, I decided to take the tool with me.
I set off at a brisk walk. The seniors' home was only a couple of blocks away from my residence, so I rarely saw the need to drive. During the walk, I was unfortunate enough to see a car accident. Being trained in basic immediate first aid, I rushed to the scene to see if there was any way that I could assist with any injuries. It was horrible; one of the drivers kept saying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" to the other vehicle, which had flipped over. Either the driver or the passenger in the flipped vehicle hadn't been wearing their seatbelt since they'd been thrown from the car. I checked them over; there was no pulse. As soon as I realized there was no pulse, I immediately set to doing CPR. It was a long-shot, especially being performed by a civilian as opposed to a trained medical professional. After a few minutes of my trying, I noticed something silvery coming out of the person's mouth. Gingerly, I pulled the tool out and being careful not to actually touch the injured person, I swung it to remove the silvery apparition from the person.
Much to my surprise, it worked! the silvery apparition separated from the body and wiggled off to who knows where. Well, that was confirmation enough for me. I waited until emergency services arrived and gave my statement (minus the silvery apparition of course; best to keep such secrets to myself after all). Then I continued on my way to the seniors' home.
When I arrived, I started talking to the nurses about the status of each of the residents. There were a couple that were in dire straits, as always. I told them that I would go to keep those couple company to ensure that they weren't alone in their final hours. There was just something so peaceful. Once again, I noticed a silvery apparition trying to leave their bodies. Well, after the accident, I knew what was necessary. I swung the scythe gingerly and separated the apparition from the person's body. Once again, the silver apparition, now freed, flew off to somewhere I didn't know.
Eventually, a giant rabbit started following me around. Sometimes volunteers at the seniors' home liked to dress up in costume to bring a smile to the seniors' faces, so I didn't think much of it. We had a long conversation about how it was to help out the elderly and the sense of accomplishment that came with contributing to one's community. She was a sweet lady and I was glad that she wanted to help in such a cheerful manner.
After some time, my shift ended and I walked back home. As the sun set, I noticed that there were several dark shapes wandering around. I planted my feet firmly and kept an eye on them. Perhaps one of my new responsibilities was to protect the world from the darker things that would take my place. As they came within striking distance, I swung my instrument, knowing that it was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, they proved too strong for me and I was overpowered.
I'm not sure what happened after I passed out in the street or why emergency services were called. But, apparently, my butler had put some peyote in my coffee and everything that I had witnessed was merely a hallucination. | 2017-02-26T17:48:11 | 2017-02-26T17:02:49 | 1,887 | 69 |
[WP] We wear the masks on the back of our heads so they think that we’re watching them. They will follow you home if they don’t think you’re watching. If you ever lose your mask, Don’t Break Eye Contact With Them. Walk backwards, and prey that there isn’t another one on the trail ahead. | Stay in the light and they can't reach you. Watch them so they can't chase you. Fool them so they can't attack you. Words of a long forgotten time when monsters in the dark were real. Over time the horrors that the darkness could hold were forgotten but they were never lost, just waiting.
The beat pounded heavily in Willow's head as she swayed her hips to the music surrounded by sweaty dancers. The bar was full tonight, full of people who came to forget their lives for a little bit. Katie grinded up against Willow as the music continued drilling into her head. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom!" Willow attempted to tell her friend over the loud music. Katie mustve figured enough from her gestures and nodded her head before continuing to grind up on some random guy. The line for the bathroom was long but by the time she got back Willow couldn't see Katie anywhere. She headed over to the bar and saw her friend chatting up the guy she was previously dancing with. "Hey Will, this is Phillip. He was just asking if I'd want to go home with him. Do you think you'll be right?" She asks clearly indicating that Willow should just find her own way home. "Yeah sure thing, have fun." Willow remarked sarcastically before making her way through the doors into the cold night. Lamps lined the street that she walked down. The cold wind bit into her bare legs as Willow slowly made her way home. Some of the lights flickered creating moments of darkness and it was one of these flickers that caught her attention. Thinking she saw someone she looked around only to find herself alone. She turned back to the flickering lamp and watched. The light showed only the concrete ground, but in the brief flicker of darkness, Willow swore she saw something. Her heart started to pound out of her chest as she saw its silhouette again but slightly closer. She turned to run as more and more of the streetlights started to flicker, but she knew from the second she saw the creature that it was futile. The long gangly limbs, stick like body and black silhouette were straight out of her nightmares. Willow stumbled in her heels and kicked them off in an attempt to run faster. She needn't look to know that the creature crept closer and closer in the impeding darkness. She stumbled over to the ground screaming as she knew it sealed her fate. As she turned to face the monster it froze. Barely a metre away she could see every jagged joint and pointed tooth. But the creature didnt move. Then it hit her, she couldnt look away. This information didnt do anything to ease her anxiety however as she willed her eyes not to shut against the water welling in them. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. Tears started streaming down her face as she chanted a mantra to herself. " Don't blink."
Hey this is my first shot at one of these and i know it definitely aint the best but thanks for reading anyway. | It started years ago, I was nothing but a child when the star piece fell on us and the shadows started to walk around us.
As if they were trying to eat our own shadows they come from behind, slowly but steadily creeping behind you. Science, religion, paranormals, no field in humanity could even remotely understand them, my father was one of the first to be take in, his shadow became a nest for em', then mom fell when Molly was almost caught, and when my big sis really wanted some company and went to see her BF, she never be back, I've been alone for so long I don't remember Molly's, dad or mum's face.
It was early winter, I could hear the shrieks outside, the new nests always made the most noise, unable to escape, unable to feed themselves, consciously living in their minds while the body only serves the shadows, a small scouting party came by:
Full tactical gear, and a mask on the back, goggles for night sights and bloodied boots.
- "Use a mask behind your head, if you feel one creeping closer look at it, if it's within sprint distance use a light, and never let them overwhelm you, we can't save those already caught, but we can still survive, walk backwards if you see one and hope you don't encounter another" - she said with a voice that felt worn-out, tired and sleepy.
I was almost 17 when I left my home, they didn't searched or didn't cared I had been eating my neighbors, pets included. We may never know what the shadows are, but at this point we only care to survive. | 2020-07-01T05:20:12 | 2020-07-01T04:28:23 | 106 | 40 |
[WP] No, there is not any issues with your metrics, you're slaying enough demons, more than enough actually. It's just, we kinda have an issue with your attitude, you just seem to... well... enjoy killing demons WAY too much. | "What's wrong with my attitude? I don't *love* this job, but doing it with a smile makes the day go by faster. It's good customer service."
John flicked a stray piece of gore that was stuck to his arm onto the office floor. He hated having to deal with nitpicky middle managers like this one. He finished his last assignment, so just give him his next one already.
"Customer service to who, your job is killing demons! Your coworkers think you're unhinged and then they come to me-- and what in the hell are those?"
The middle manager gestured somewhat vaguely to John's entire body.
"... Shotgun shells? Oh! You mean my 40 pieces of flair? I got the idea from my last job. I thought it was dumb at first too, but the idea grew on me. It really helps add to the customer experience and synergize our values to our core product. Whatever that means. I've been trying to get the rest of the team onboard, but maybe you should try convincing them instead. Look at this one, isn't it great?"
There wasn't a dress code rule against having flair, so what was the problem? John began showing off a pin with the text 'Hugs, not guns' and a cute stylization of a demon on it. Then he had to show off his other favorites, laughing at the often ironic messaging on them given his job description. 'Demons are people too', and the like. These were of course mixed in with patriotic messages, and one proclaiming they can have his gun when they pry it from his cold dead fingers. The things people came up with.
The manager sighed and rubbed his temple. What was he supposed to do? John was good at his job after all. He just did it with a grotesque enthusiasm and sense of humor that bothered anyone he had to work with. He supposed all he needed was for the others to stop complaining about it.
"John, fine. Do what you want. You'll be alone on your assignments from now on. We have recent intelligence of a new demon encampment. They're still young, but you know what happens when those reach a certain size. Go see Malkovich for your briefing."
"Sure thing boss, I'll slaughter them all with a smile!"
John gave a casual salute. Then he left and headed toward Malkovich's office. This job wasn't so bad in between the meetings and nitpicking managers. | I stood there covered in the blood of my enemies, and walking through the village after single handedly slaying an army of them.
“Ahhhh!!”
I ran towards the source of the sound of the scream as it was heard throughout the village but it would be too late by then. The boy was clutching the body of a young girl close to him as he screamed and cried. Blood poured out of the gash in the stomach of the girl. The culprit, a stray demon that wanders of from the army, then attacked the boy, but not before I could severe its head with my bloodied claymore.
People around me have complained about my “love” for killing demons, but what they didn’t know was that this was all for revenge and a promise.
My sister had died right in front of me and I had no power to stop it. I had sworn since then to become stronger to have my revenge and protect the same tragedy to happen to others.
But I had failed.
I picked up my claymore and headed west, towards the certain doom of the kingdom of demons …
(My first time here. Sry if my writing was trash)
Btw thank you all for positive and helpful comments | 2021-09-15T11:19:55 | 2021-09-15T09:51:59 | 98 | 60 |
[WP] You’ve traveled a great distance to finally court the princess. Many others have tried and failed. Why? At the end of a week with her, you must duel her to the death. She is the greatest sword fighter in the land, so your only hope is to convince her to call off the fight. | The final day of courting with the Princess of the land was always a duel. The duel had become so popular in the land that the King had turned it into an event. Everyone would travel to the dueling grounds outside the palace and town to watch as a poor man was run through for their arrogance or stupidity.
Now I'm not much of a poet but when I heard of the event I fell in love. So of course I informed my fellow companions of my new love and they whole heartedly supported my pursuit. So we planned it out and travelled to the princess so I could declare my love to her.
When my parties wagon rolled into the town and we told the locals of my interest in courting the Princess, we received mockery and a few pitying looks. But I wasn't deterred.
Once I presented myself to the Princess I almost decided to not go through with my plan. Her beauty if anything was understated in the tales. Her grace almost divine and her voice could sooth any raging beast.
The Princess accepted my courting proposal and for a week I wooed her. Several times I had to remind myself of the end goal. Several times I wished to just run away. But I stayed. And finally the day came. The town and people of the Palace gathered at the dueling fields to watch me die.
"I have to say, I did enjoy this week." The Princess said to me as she gave a few practice swings in the air with her sword. I smiled a little, "I don't suppose that means you'll spare me?"
She gave a bubbling laugh, "Oh no my dear ex-suitor."
She started to gracefully circle me, "I've been waiting all week for this day."
I smirked a little and got into a stance with my sword, "Well I hate to keep a lady waiting."
With a fiendish smile she engaged. To compare my skill to hers would be to compare a peasants gold to a kings.
Quickly I felt her blade slip past my defenses and slash across my chest, arms, and legs.
After a minute of being methodically turned to ribbons she backed away from me.
I was breathing hard while she seemed no worse for wear.
we both stabbed our blades into the ground and took a moment to breath
"I'm surprised your still alive." she commented.
I laughed heartily and looked up to the crowd before looking back at her. "Well Princess I pride myself on my uh... stamina."
She chuckled, "Most men I fight only have one round in them."
I couldn't help a snicker, "Princess I'm one of a kind."
I lifted my blade and got back into a defensive stance. Beckoning her to me with a finger I gave her a smirk. "Well I'm ready for round two."
The crowd seemed amused at our banter and I would have taken a moment to enjoy it but the Princess was quick to reengage me. the crowd watched with dark amusement as the Princess covered my body in more and more cuts. I could hear a few comments as I fought off not only the Princess but the blackness that was threatening to overtake me.
After another minute the Princess backed away her hands, face, and clothes covered in blood but none of it her own. "Still there?"
I planted my sword back into the ground and held up a hand to acknowledge her as my breath come in ragged breaths.
She smiled, "Well you've set a new record."
I couldn't help a hacking up blood as I let out a painful chuckle. "Not the first time I've done that."
"I do have to ask, why did you think you would win?" she said as she picked up her bloody blade.
"I'll have you know I'm winning Princess. I've got you where I want you." I looked up with a bloody smile on my face and took a defensive stance again, feeling my arms and legs shriek in painful protest.
The Princess's smile vanished as she picked up her blade. "Is that so?"
I looked up to the crowd again and saw my friends faces of encouragement.
Looking back at the Princess I gave a sincere smile. "Why yes Princess I've won."
I don't remember dying. Just sudden blackness then feeling a pull as I woke up seeing my friends looking down at me. Besides them a priest.
"Holy hell man she ripped you apart." said one of them, the rogue of our party.
I shook off the feelings of the resurrection spell and stood up. "I know man that was the most painful experience of my life."
The rest of my party parted as I gathered my clothes and put them on. "How much did we make by the way?" I say as I meet back up with them at the wagon.
The warlock smiled evilly, "They had pathetic security that were barely taking their jobs seriously. We stole well over a few thousands gold from them."
I smiled as I got into the cart, "Finally, I've earned myself a nice score."
As ranger started guiding the wagon out of the city, located well away from the Princess's palace, the rogue took a second to look at me. "Was it just me or did it seem like you actually liked the girl?"
I waved his words, "No way my friend, we're thieving adventures, she's a Princess."
He shrugged, "Well she certainly seemed to like you."
As we headed down the road off to our next adventure I thought that sentence over in my head. | I made sure that every single sword in town has been bought out and currently hidden in a cave somewhere in the southern isles. My rouges have scoured every house, camp, and hovel in the city for any type of sword or sword-like object. Of course, getting the swords in the castle is going to be harder, and the sword that she carries in her scabbard the hardest. My network of rouges has been working day in and day out for this but, now I have the ultimate test. To get that sword away from her.
The princess has been spending a few hours getting ready in the powder room as a result it is customary that I wait in the study with her butler. He stares at me up and down as I am not as strapping as the last few lads she fought. He gave me a look of pity,
"So, nice weather out there," I said, with my winning smile
The weather was cloudy and humid but, I was grasping at straws at this point. Even her butler looks intimidating. The butler just sniffed and looked towards his stack of books. Just a single stack of books among the walls of books among the shelves and piles on desks. There are also numerous anatomical diagrams on the wall and a single strange skull that was placed on the desk as some strange souvenir.
"What is that?" I ask pointing at the skull on the desk.
The butler looked at me and then looked at the skull.
"This is the skull of the first man circa 46,000 years ago. It was gifted to the princess by a biologist from the Americas."
"What happened to him?"
"He died in battle."
"With whom?"
"The princess."
"Oh."
The courting sword fights have occasionally been public events. I have seen the princess do her famous fatality finish where she disembowels her opponents in a single swipe of her rapier. While a man from any class could date her if he wants to try, she also insists on having them fight her to the death within a week after the first date. Knowing this she is still sought after and known as irresistible by most men. With an almost extreme radiance, she steps in and it was well worth the wait. She was wearing a satin dress that conforms to her curves with her long black hair cascading down to her wasp-like waist. She smiled at me to acknowledge my presence. I noticed that her sword isn't in its usual place. Could it be that Pierre succeeded?
"We'll be out for a few Alfred." The princess calls out she leads me towards the front door
We were walking out when... a waif-like teenaged boy wearing a green smock was running in a weird manner almost as if he was sidestepping at a sonic pace. His grunting matching his speed. before we realize it he threw his boomerang straight towards my head. Before I could think the princess takes out her rapier and deflects the thing towards a nearby barrel, tells me to hop into the carriage. I plopped in along with her and she orders the thing to start moving. With the horses moving at top speed across town the boy effortlessly catches up to us. Shooting a chain towards the wheel in order to drag him towards us. He throws a spherical, black bomb inside of the carriage. I immediately take it and throw it in a nondescript direction. The princess on the other hand starts climbing to the top of the carriage rapier. In hand.
"Who is this guy!?"
"How about you tell me, Rohan?"
"What?"
"Did you think that you were get away with stealing every sword in the city without a few people getting mad at you!?"
More than a few people, a whole squadron of different characters started roaming after the carriage. An 8-foot tall behemoth dressed in black with short black spikey hair and a strange tattoo, a man who's similarly muscular but, shorter with longer blonde hair wearing strange foreign clothing. Along with several men and women with black robes turning into fierce monsters running through the city. Tonight the princess and I will fight together, tomorrow she will have me.
\*\*I'll probably expand on this because this is fun.\*\* | 2020-09-20T23:44:33 | 2020-09-20T21:56:44 | 28 | 17 |
[WP] You are a superhero whose powers are based on the music you are listening to. Rock can make you stronger, classical makes you smarter, etc. One day, you're fighting your toughest villain yet, and you are forced to use your "forbidden" playlist. | Nothing has prepared me, the [Music Maestro](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSAJ0l4OBHM), for this opponent. Ever Destroyer was the most dangerous enemy I have faced so far. Very strong, with the power of decay at her disposal, she was a villain all villains wish them could be. Everything she touched was destroyed. [Rock](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vx2u5uUu3DE), my trusted first choice of power, was beaten easily.
Going [Country](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B9FzVhw8_bY) was my next choice. Ode to the rural life, country lets me control plant life as well as an [alligator](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT_nvWreIhg). Nothing says banjos and hillbillies quite like country music. Noticing this, Ever Destroyer touched the ground, disintegrating every plant within several kilometers and the alligator. A terrible deed, and my second choice was neutralized just like that.
Gritting my teeth, I pull out one of my trump cards, [Death Metal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zN7J64IeBo), a power very similar to hers. Instantly I feel Death's gaze behind me, reminding me of the high cost of using this genre. Veins popping, I rush to grab her hands. Ever Destroyer was surprised, for no one had ever touched her without dying before.
Yanking each other's feet, we tumble in the dirt, death and decay surrounding us as our powers both intensify and cancel each other out. On my back, I can feel Death slowly opening their eye. Under a minute left, before Death takes my [soul](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YxaaGgTQYM).
Ultimately, I had to unleash my [forbidden genre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ5LpwO-An4), [one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTQbiNvZqaY) that I swore to only [use](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0MK7qz13bU) in the most dire of [emergencies](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djV11Xbc914). Play the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ) that made the entire world rage! | "And stay down!" Maestro slammed Songbird down to the concrete.
The hero lay still, dust rising around her. Her headphones skittered across the pavement. A crunch followed, as the villain stepped on them. The beats of Poison silenced instantly.
It was supposed to be an easy battle. Maestro was a new villain in town, having pulled a few low level heists. Robbing the bank was his "big move". She should've been able to shut him down. Fly in on the Olympic theme, switch to Mozart to case the joint, then glam rock for the stunning finisher. Easy.
She didn't know he could control the music. That this had been a trap meant for her.
He had bent the Olympics to a minor chord, crashing her into the building. Mozart had become discordant. And, well, the less said about how weak she was after he silenced the electric guitars, the better.
Well, two could play at that game. She thumbed her phone, fortunately still safe in its case on her belt. It was time to "Let It Go" if they were "Playing with the Big Boys" now. Because she had "Friends on the Other Side", and children's belief made reality much more malleable. | 2022-05-17T08:49:33 | 2022-05-17T08:28:11 | 153 | 91 |
[WP] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy. As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable. They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology. Humans accept the deal. | The human smiled playfully. "So if I understand you correctly. You will give us this FTL technology in exchange for our aid. All you ask of us is to cleanse your world of this Ashvell species, and remove this substance from your waters?"
"That is all," I said with a hoarse voice. We hadn't done much research on these creatures. All we knew was that they had yet to fly further than their own moon and that they may be our salvation. I stepped back as the human walked by me. He walked carelessly, holding the vial that contained the substance that could destroy my species.
Water. Yes, we thought it was water. The clear liquid that granted our planet the ability to sustain life. The Ashvell gave it to us as a simple offering, one of peace and prosperity. We had no reason to suspect the Ashvell of foul play. Would you? We had been on neighboring planets for thousands of years.
Cast Ozon had started to puke green bile moments after he had swallowed the substance. His elongated neck had melted within mere seconds. Our dear leader had died whilst still holding onto the glass. Before anyone had been able to react, the Ashvell had started their offense. Enormous cannons had sprayed our lands, our homes and our people with the poisonous substance. We thought it was merely water. The Ashvell knew it was not.
"You should not keep this substance in an unprotected vial," I said. Humans in white coats eyed me as I followed the human leader up a flight of stairs.
We entered what I assumed to be a living space. Why else would there be a sleeping platform in the center of the room? The human sat down and placed his legs on the sleeping platform, leaning backwards.
"What is your answer? We haven't much time! The Ashvell kill our younglings by the hundreds for every second I do not return."
"Has the United Nations made a decision?" The human spoke to the mirrored wall on the other side of room.
A face appeared on the wall. The human in the wall cocked an eyebrow. His gaze lingered on me. "You say that this liquid is poisonous to your species?"
A shiver ran down my spine. "Yes, it is. None of the species in our solar system are able to survive direct contact with this substance. We beg of you, please save us."
"And simply attaching the technology you wish to donate to us will enable faster than light travel for the vehicle it is applied to?"
"Yes."
The face disappeared and I could once again see my own reflection in the mirror. I turned to the human beside me. He was sniffing the substance, twirling the vial around as he did.
Then he drank it.
I stood there in disbelief. The human drank the most poisonous substance known to my people. I jumped back, afraid that his body would explode. A mere drop still in his throat could splash out at any second. A mere drop was enough to kill me outright.
Nothing happened.
The human smacked his lips and winked at me. "Twelve percent."
Behind me, I heard the oh so familiar booming of FTL-engines. The humans had accepted our offer. | Recording starts: I am the Voice of the Void, Grace embodied, S/He who is most exalted, Pontif Imhedi Gomae.
The Void had always provided and today was no exception. Those less faithful and with less worthy prayers upon their stomata had, in a flash rekindled their zeal. A golden tablet, fashioned by those who are still ignorant of their role as our saviors, flew within range of our sensors and was picked up. We studied the contents meticulously. The Void makes no errors, and this was no exception. The great Hivemind analyzed their chemistry and evolution and taught us what we needed to know. They would have been violent and perhaps even made themselves extinct, but the Void makes no errors and this would be no exception.
The Hivemind was in agreement, we would speak to them through the clicks and smacks they used and request that they assist us immediately. We are, after all, Chosen of the Void. As we poured our resources into this missive the barbarians were at our doorstep. They swarmed through space stoic and unwilling to compromise. Every outpost of ours was silenced and every record intercepted. Their greatest weapon was their lack of communication to the greater hivemind. They were apostates, untethered and dangerous.
When our response arrived it was nearly instantaneous. They hadn't need of our technology. In the lapse between the launch of their golden message, they had acquired the power from the Void.
The Void had judged us, that was clear when we saw the fraternity amongst the swarm and our saviors. They were the same people, long since split due to a global civil war. These nomads had finally found a home they wanted and now their cousins had arrived to help them make that happen. The Void makes no errors, and that day was no exception.
*Message cuts to static*
| 2014-12-26T12:23:02 | 2014-12-26T11:56:13 | 70 | 13 |
[WP] You are an ordinary human going about your day when you suddenly find yourself in hell. Looking down you see yourself standing on some crudely drawn symbols. A nearby demon child holds up some paper and says "Um...can you help me with my homework?" | "Um...can you help me with my homework?"
I always had the bad habit of leaning my chair back when thinking, but I never once fell. Of course there's always a first time for things, but I shouldn't be hearing voices neither feeling this intense heat suddenly.
"Umm... Hey?"
As I try to get my bearing I instinctively look where I'm hearing the sound from, and sure enough there's someone there. Am I hallucinating?
"Are you alive there?"
"I... Yeah I guess..." I reply automatically still trying to make sense of this. "Are you..." I blurt without even thinking. Quickly I shake my head and find a better question. "Where am I?"
"Hell." The 'kid' reply nonchalantly. My mind is racing right now, half thinking I must be on a REALLY bad case of hallucination and the other sensory half telling me that no, this is very much happening. The heat, the damp dry and almost oppressive atmosphere and these walls and textures and the circle around me smelling like freshly burnt incense of something unpleasant...
"You said you need help with your homework?" The kid nodded. I got up, dusted off and got closer, he pointed at the book in his table.
"Here." Could've been Aramaic for all that I know, I never saw these symbols before.
"You're speaking English right?" The kid tilted his head confused. "Okay, read the problem aloud to me." Let's try to make sense of it.
"To perform the χ̸̼͕̀̚͘α̵͔͓̟͊͛͋ρ̵̪̫̠̒̓͠ὰ̵̪̟͙́͝κ̵̙͖̠̾͆̕τ̵̢͔̈́͐̒͜ῆ̸͚̝̫͒͘͘ρ̸͚͔̺̀̓̾α̵̡̝̫̿̾͐ summon you need the carving of λ̸̡͓̠̓́̓ὲ̸̘͇̻̔͊κ̸͕͙̪͆̈́͐τ̵̦̼̔̓̽͜ and Μ̴̙̼̪̐͋͝ε̵͖͉͕͊͌͝σ̴͉͎͇͛̕͝ while directing the energy accordingly..." Hearing these words made my head pound, but it's like I can now get a simple understanding of what is what. The kid continues to recite the book while I'm slowly coming to terms with it. I get the 'pencil' from his table and start drawing what I believe it's the required symbol on the side of the table while performing the gestures and chanting I understood.
Sure enough, five spots of light appear further down the table spread in an "X" and I can rotate and manipulate them with the correct handling of the symbol. The kid happily cheers and asks me to explain how I did it, I try to read the book on my own and break the process in bits. This way I'm not only teaching him as I'm learning the due process myself. It's honestly not all that different from college where people are always coming to me for help...
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Two years have passed and this has been a common occurrence in my life. I didn't minded since I was learning something extremely important as well, the kid gets a personal tutor and I get otherworldly knowledge, seems like a good deal. And today...
Today is payday.
I walk up to my teacher and confidently hand him my final paper. "Here, it's guaranteed to be the most brilliant thesis you've ever had a student deliver.
##### "ARGENT ENERGY
##### BY
##### SAMUEL HAYDEN" | The newest particle accelerator in the world isn't on the earth, it lies beneath the surface of the moon, encircling the entire satellite at its equator, the project itself was/is the largest civil engineering project in human history, which in turn created massive wealth from all the mineral wealth discovered, unknown alloys and gems were discovered in massive veins and pockets, the first years metal extraction paid for the entire project.
Dr. Brown is considered the greatest mind of his generation, holding multiple doctorates in mathematics, physics and chemistry while being considered for his second Nobel, all before his 50th birthday, life is pretty good he thought, the sound of the young woman sleeping entered his senses, soft, slow breathing mixed with post coital aromas and a slightly sweet perfume filled his mind with memories of the night before, very pleasant indeed, he thought back to his arrival and the subsequent festivities, life on the moon is very intimate, the small permanent population of 10,000 have intermarried and have several hundred children, everyone knows everyone else or they're relatives, his new found friend was very friendly and hospitable and her lack of inhibition breath taking!
Dr. Brown was in the main conference room reviewing the schedule for each phase of the current project , researching matter/antimatter reactions for a future propulsion design, creating a potential faster than light drive, Jan, get me materials engineering and ask where my metallurgical assays are? And tell the construction superintendent I expect the shielding walls to be completed by start up date, if they think they can squeeze another delay out of us and get paid they're mistaken.....a sudden acrid smell of ozone caught him off guard, his initial thought was "electrical fire" but the thunderclap and explosion knocked all thoughts out of his mind, the flash and explosion left him breathless and stunned, what followed next was......odd, the cloud of smoke began to clear and objects began to materialize, it looked like he was in a small room, someone's bedroom? A single bed was tucked into a corner and there were various posters of Rock bands, metal bands to be exact, while taking in the room the doctor turned and observed a person standing near the bed, looking like a young adolescent boy but something was different, he had cloven hooves and horns and a tail, his skin was oxblood red, his features flawless and perfect, beautiful, almost too beautiful, he was jumping up and down, very agitated , after awhile the ringing in his ears subside and he can hear what the young demon was shouting "it worked !!!-" he calmly asked" who are you and where am I?" You are my guest, and I am Lucian son of Lucifer and this is my home, I have brought you here to solve a problem, do you know how to do fractions? | 2020-09-16T19:19:55 | 2020-09-16T19:14:36 | 31 | 10 |
[WP] You had found the villain's lair, broke down the gates and started scouring through the complex. While getting through the rather oddly themed henchmen and the..."traps", it was getting increasingly clear: the villain has a crush on you.
EDIT Some new reading for my day off :D Thanks guys | THIS IS THE PROMPT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR. MY TIME TO SHINE.
___
I trudged through the murky "pond", more like a puddle.
After defeating several large robotic cats, I think I've reached the door. I wiped some blood off of my face and sighed in pain.
I opened the door. Not locked, fortunately. Poor guy probably never thought anyone would get this far.
"Hey! I'm here to stop you from doing... whatever evil you want to do with those cats! No one hurts cats as long as I have a say!" I yelled, not noticing the large room *filled* with cats.
The "villain", more like a pathetic attempt at evil, swiveled his chair. He swiveled too far and went spinning.
"Help! Too far!" He yelped, trying to stop the chair. Good lord, how pathetic.
"Ah, yes. A super villain. Good god, are you even trying?" I asked, petting one of the cats.
"I didn't intend to *harm* the animals, dear. You see, I wouldn't want you hating me." He replied smoothly, finally stopping the chair.
"And why is that?" I asked, petting more cats of various ages, sizes and breeds.
"Well, you see. My master plan was... kinda sorta... *getting you to want to date me and possibly spend the rest of your life with me...?*" He muttered, facepalming in embarrassment.
"You... what? Oh, my god. Ohhh, my god," I stuttered, overwhelmed by his answer and the sheer amount of cats. "You couldn't have just asked me?"
"Well," He hesitated, "I *COULD* have, but... That wouldn't be good enough for you."
"Okay, can I go now?" I asked, turning towards the door, holding various cats.
"Hmm... No." He said, slamming a button which locked the door.
"Uhh," I slowly asked, "Why did you close the door...? That's kinda rude to deny someone freedom, ya know... Especially someone you want to convince."
He thought about it for a moment.
"Well, you see. Me keeping you here is like... you keeping a cat, sort of! You get the analogy?"
I stared at him, a bit shocked. "So I'm like a pet to you, is that what you're saying?"
"Kind of! Like a pet in the way that you keep them with you, most likely against their will, but not in a pet-owner way? You see what I'm getting at?"
I sighed in exasperation. "I don't even know your name, and you expect me to decide that you're my significant other?"
"Okay, first off. My name is Xavier. Second, yes. I mean, I'll give you all the time you want, but I'd like a yes or no answer soon. You see, if you were with *me*, you'd pretty much be royalty. I can have armies of people bowing at your feet, all the money you've ever wanted!"
I rolled my eyes at his stereotypical villain monologue. "I don't *want* money, or power. I'm not a mentally deranged villain like you. All I really want in life is to just pet cats and do fun stuff, like painting or seeing how many Oreos I can fit in my mouth at a time."
He had a look on his face. A thinking look. No, a *plotting look.*
"Fine, no slaves or money. But I can get you all the Oreos you want. And cats! Look around! So many cats!" He picked one up and kissed it on the head. "Don't you want cats? And Oreos? And someone who cares about you?"
I thought about it for a moment.
"Yeah, that does sound kinda nice. Fine, I'll stay." I said, crossing my arms.
"Yay!" He said, seeming like a child who was told that they could get as much ice cream at they want.
"On one exception." I told him. "No killing people. I am not going to fall in love/Stockholm Syndrome love a sociopathic murderer. Got it?"
"...Fine. Anything for you. Now then, help me organize all these cats."
___
Paging /u/ploxiecat. It's done, you're welcome. | I flung open the doors in a rage, eager to get to the mastermind at the end. The flash upon opening stunned me. As I flailed about attempting to stave off this diabolical trap, I could see multiple more flashes through my closed eyelids.
His voice boomed over a loudspeaker somewhere "Oh my, Oh no! You have fallen for my trap..I have taken multiple photos of you so..so I can..uh, RUB IN YOUR MOMENT OF WEAKNESS IN YOUR FACE. I WILL REINFORCE THIS WITH PUTTING THE PICTURES IN A GILDED 4x5 FRAME WITH GOLDEN ROSES. YES. THIS WILL DESTROY YOUR..uh..your..WILLPOWER. Just..just ATTACK MY MINIONS, GO ALREADY!"
My eyesight returned to normal and in front of me stood...well oiled men, glistening and strapped with bandoliers of alternating dark and white chocolate. I shifted uncomfortably where I stood. The voice over the loudspeaker kicked in again..."*cough..uh, well yes..the.the...uh, WOMENFOLK ARE NATURALLY INCLINED TO WEAKNESS. SO IT IS WRITTEN IN MANY TEXTS THAT CHOCOLATES ARE A WEAKNESS TO THE YY CHROMOSOMES. I AM MERELY TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THAT, I REALLY AM. Aaaaand..to doubly ensure your weakness, I had these chocolated SHIPPED. FROM. SWWWIIITTTZZERLANDDDD. Do you, um, do you like it? I MEAN OF COURSE YOU DO, FOOLISH, TONGUE TYING FEMALE."
The henchmen stood there. Their faces were hidden by masks, but their body language screamed of discomfort. I could hear one of them suck in air through clenched teeth as they hung their heads. After a quick and baby oiled fight, they were all taken down with minimal contact. Thank goodness for that.
I walked down the hallway to another set of doors. The voice flared to life again.."BEHIND THESE DOORS ARE YOUR PERSONAL HELL. DO YOU DARE ENTER? No seriously, do you? I put a lot of work in."
I sighed, closed my eyes and thought of better days like dangling over acid. I gave my temples a quick rub and opened the door carefully. Lights flickered on one by one as I stepped in.
"DO-DO YOU LIKE IT? I HAD TO CONTACT MANY OF YOUR FOES..AND FRIENDSANDFAMILYANDLOVED ONES TO PUT THIS..GALLERY OF SHAME TOGETHER."
I grimaced and let my eyes wander over the walls. It was a gallery..a gallery of childhood images and memories, vaguely embarrassing and heartwarming and all carefully preserved for someone's future keepsakes. The banner hung overhead in bright warm tones saying "WELCOME TO YOUR HELL, CAROLINE <3"
I pulled both blades out of their sheathes. Tonight, he would die. | 2015-10-28T13:24:10 | 2015-10-28T13:08:37 | 18 | 10 |
[WP] FTL travel is actually possible. However, when humanity sends out our first FTL spacecraft, we discover the terrifying reason why nothing, not even light, dares go past that cosmic speed limit. | One of the few things most people can agree on is that Einstein was a pretty smart guy. One of the smart things that he said was that it is not possible to travel faster than light.
Now, he might not have actually said "only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity", but whoever said it was right. Einstein, however, was not.
In our infinite hubris, we decided that we should try to travel faster than light. So we did it. And given that about half of the hubris of mankind was due to me, I volunteered to be the test pilot.
Einstein warned us about past, present and future becoming one. About causality not existing anymore. In reality, the price I paid was much, much higher. And the human soul can only bend so far before it breaks.
"Number 247", called the voice behind the counter.
I was number 401. I had been here for two days.
Much in the same way there is a speed limit on highways, there is a speed limit for the universe itself. But it is not enforced by the laws of Physics. It is enforced by the most vile species in all of the universe (and beyond it): bureaucrats.
Remember the part about the past, the present and the future becoming one? Turns out Einstein was right about that one. What this means, in practice, is that everyone who has ever broken, is currently breaking, or will ever break the speed limit is here at the same time. And it's kind of a mess, since there as species from different parts of the universe and from different moments in times all gathered at the same place.
Here at the 10th circle, as I had taken to calling it, I had been trying to navigate an endless maze of bureaucracy. They say when you reach the speed of light, time stops. Well, I'm not sure time had actually stopped, but things certainly seemed to move very, very slowly.
After having my ship impounded and being brought to the extra-dimensional equivalent of the DMV, I had been trying unsuccessfully to plead my case to someone who could help me. We didn't know it was actually illegal to go beyond the speed of light. I don't know if there was someone who could actually help. I'm positive that no one would.
I had fortunately managed to go to the right department within the 10th circle, the "carbon-based lifeforms" department. But the fact that I had very little hair on my body and five toes on my feet seemed to really confuse the bureaucrats, which could only mean one thing: special forms.
I filled the form to the best of my abilities. Not that it mattered, because when it finally reached the person responsible for my case, they decided the problem was too big for them. So, I was sent to see one the most dreadful figures in existence: a supervisor.
Well, the supervisor decided that I had been in the right place all along. But he also decided that I had to get another number and get back in line.
"Number 248", the voice called. "I have found the third infinite thing", I pondered. "The line at the extra-dimensional DMV". | The day had arrived.
On a space station high above the earth, thousands stood silent, while millions watched at home as humanity's first Faster Than Light capable spacecraft was about to depart on its maiden voyage.
The technology was perfected over decades, with countless scientists working long hours for minimum pay for a passion that they may or may not regret later in life.
The spacecraft, dubbed Speedy McSpeedFace, was perched on a high platform, with the audience below protected by a powerful force field. The ship was unmanned, it being only an experimental vessel, but filled to the brim with technology that Star Wars could only dream of.
The announcer waited for the signal to begin the countdown.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for! The world's first Faster Than Light ship is about to launch! I have been given permission to begin the countdown! In five, four, three, two, one!"
The ship started its engines, at first slowly, then at maximum throttle.
The ensuing explosion ripped the space station, the force field, and the earth apart, disintegrating it into pure plasma that collided with the other planets at speeds faster than light. The other planets were completely vaporized, turning into swirling vortexes of pure annihilation that caused everything they touched to cease to exist.
As the ship traveled through the universe, everything it touched was completely destroyed, leaving behind nothing but an infinitely hot space that cause disruptions in space and time. Stars that had been born in the dawn of time found themselves going supernova in the blink of an eye, black holes were torn apart by their own gravity, nebulae exploding with the force of the Big Bang.
The observable universe was left a desolate wasteland.
The ship left the boundaries of the known universe and headed into the unknown, where a race of aliens known as ponies found it and were subsequently destroyed. | 2018-11-04T09:04:28 | 2018-11-04T05:34:15 | 28 | 19 |
[WP] As it turns out, humans are not the generic, good guy, center of the galaxy type species. Humans are a specialist species, and the rest of the galaxy only cares about one thing when it comes to humanity. Our explosives. | "You can't expect us to pay this much for bombs!"
"Listen noodle face, I studied my ass for for years to perfect my bomb making. I'm a chemical engineer and-"
"I don't care!" Noodle face hissed "only a Pyromancer can expect to be paid this much and I won't."
"I am a Pyromancer with a degree, calamari man. Take it or leave it, I have more people willing to pay."
His blue tentacles curled around what the Pyromancer assumed was his mouth.
"You...you're one of them? But you're so small!"
"Because I am female" she tried very hard not to roll her eyes.
"Do you have the infamous Heart Rate Trigger of your kind?" He asked gingerly.
She lifted her sleeve, revealing the implanted monitor that would detonate if her heart should stop, killing everyone else in the immediate vicinity. It was a powerful bargaining chip when dealing with criminals and allowed her to work alone.
Noodle face stepped back, wringing his hand-appendages.
"I will pay."
"Great." She pulled out her electronic money device to complete the transfer. "Next time I don't expect an argument. I charge a very fair price for my quality and I don't have time for disrespect."
"Yes, yes." He mumbles, transferring the large sum of money from his device to hers.
She smiled, turned on her heal and left, scattering the tentacle warlord's entourage. They knew to get out of the way of danger.
If she experienced resistance during their next meeting, she would kill them. Just thinking about the explosion, the wave it would make in the atmosphere while it's blue plume rose up into the sky and turned black got her excited. She would be far away from it, but close enough to see it.
Pyromancers were notorious for killing or maiming those who had disrespected them for many Pyromancers had been taken advantage of in the past. Boundaries had to be put in place with the intergalactic mob.
Pyromania was a dangerous affliction, but damn, was it profitable. | "Oh fuck off you mango eating tit."
"Come on man just one stick, just one."
"For the last time I'M NOT SELLING YOU ANYMORE! You're addicted you need to stop."
"Come on man pleeeeease... I'll make it worth you while."
I look up from my book and stare at his glowing face... Or butt. "I'm listening."
"Okay so there's this rumor going around that Ratethim got this safe now if you give me the stick I can get into it and and I'll pay you back I swear"
"Goddamn it Jean" I stare him in the eye and chuckle. "Where do you think I got the explosives?"
Okay so this is my first writing post thingy it's just alittle (very little) story I wrote up tell me what you think. P.S. I'm on mobile. So you need to dismiss and ignore any incorrect grammar or miss spellings because I'm special.
| 2018-07-16T01:34:08 | 2018-07-15T20:26:33 | 100 | 22 |
[WP] "There's a reason it's been quarantined. Nobody lives there anymore. Nobody human, at least. Trust me, friend. You'll regret asking me to teach you how to get to Sesame Street." | "I don't worry," the man said. "I'm not afraid of them."
"You should be," I said, watching him from the corner of my eye. His voice was soft. Too soft, it felt like. So soft and flowing and gentle that it felt like I should have been worried, but somehow every time he opened that mouth I just felt put totally at ease.
"No," the man said. "I'm not. You are. You're scared of them. You fear what they've become, and so you reject them, and they reject you."
"We should. You know what they do-"
"Because they're scared. And because they're scared, they lash out. Like children. I understand that, though. I love children, and I even love *them* too."
"Oh yeah? Who'd you hire to be your fucking escort, mister lovebug? SEAL fucking Team Six?"
"None. I don't need any. I don't need weapons. I just have to talk. And that's the strongest thing in the world."
I looked down at his little suitcase, his nice shoes, his soft, fuzzy sweater. Decked out like that, I'd figured he was either some kind of top-tier hit-job guy, or would be meeting up with some muscle to watch his back. But now - now I was wondering if this was a particularly unique method of suicide.
"You're fucking insane," I muttered, one eye still on the road. Rain spattered off the windshield, swept away by the wipers only to pool again seconds later.
"No. I'm just calm. I don't fear them, and so they don't lash out at me," the man said. He turned, caught me watching, and smiled. It was a warm smile. A comforting smile, a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. It reminded me of my grandfather, before the stroke took his smile.
"You talk like you've dealt with them before."
"I have. My - home. I learned that they're just like children, and they can be helped just like children."
His *home*?
My foot jabbed the brake. Wheels squealed against wet aslphalt, and we pulled to a halt outside the old subway entrance. He went for the door immediately, shining new shoes splashing in the curbside puddle.
"Remember, it's the third panel from the right. Just lift it up, and it's a straight walk to the entrance on the far side."
"I remember. Thank you, friend," he said as he grabbed his suitcase.
I went to pull the door shut, but on a whim called out to him: "Hey - hey, what's your name, Mister? You got a name you can give?"
He turned back, pausing despite the rain spattering off his hat, and just smiled that big, warm, crinkle-eyed smile.
"Rogers. You can call me Rogers." | "Take the F train to Washington Square and transfer to the A train heading uptown. Switch again to the 3 train at Columbus Circle. At 79th, get off, cross to the other platform and take the same train one stop in the other direction."
"And that's it?"
"That's it. You'll be at Sesame Street."
My hand shook as I wrote down the instructions. Years of dead ends and bad leads had finally brought me to this brownstone stoop, to the home of this tiny, middle-aged spinster.
"Don't say I didn't warn you.." she said.
I was about to thank her and race for the subway, but a question hung in the air. She needed something but was too afraid to ask.
"Can I bring you anything back?" I said.
Her fuzzy pink face crumpled momentarily. With her guard down, she was a miserable sight - rake thin, with greasy blonde pigtails and a faded farm dress that was probably the only clothing she owned.
"You know what I need.. just a handful would do." she said at last.
"So it's true then? His feathers really are made of gold?"
She nodded.
"Thanks Miss Dawn." I said, masking my excitement and trying to sound reassuring. "I'll be back tomorrow. Everything will be better, I promise."
She began to shut the door. "That's what they all say."
I looked down at my scribbled notes. "Hold on Prarie.." I said. She paused.
"Let me double check these directions. So I'll be brought to Sesame Street today by the letters F, and A, and by the number 3?" | 2022-07-20T17:17:09 | 2022-07-20T15:42:59 | 87 | 49 |
[WP] Everyone knows of the Gentleman Thief: he was never caught, his crimes are executed with style, and he is always quick with a clever quip with a constant smile on his face. One evening, he suddenly shows up at a know nobles ball, sword in hand. There is no sign of humor about him this time. | A hush fell over the crowd, but was almost immediately replaced by murmurs. The Gentleman Thief himself! Here! Everybody had a friend of cousin or similar who swore up and down they had seen the Gentleman somewhere during a caper, as they had been grabbing a midnight snack. Often dismissed, but always spoken of and repeated. And now he was here! At the year-end ball! How exciting, what on earth could he be scheming to steal? An enchanted necklace from a duchess? All the rings in the room? Or mayhaps... a kidnapping? The guesses were far and wide and growing bolder and more extravagant by the second. No one even dreamed about calling forth *guardsmen,* that would have been truly gauche.
And his eyes! Twinkling so dangerously, a sword in hand, as if he was *angry* of all things!
How *fascinating*, this was sure to be *the* night to remember for a decade!
The Gentleman stood silently, glaring at the crowd, his eyes moving slowly until they found their target. He began to walk -- well, stalk -- with a purpose and the crowd parted before him.
"I say! What's going on, what's everybody talking about-- oh!" a short, flamboyant noble dresed in bright colours and a ridiculously high hairpiece gaped at the Gentleman. "What... how... is that really him?" he asked someone next to him. They could only nod and stare as well.
The Gentleman's footsteps came to a close opposing the noble. "You are... baron Samien?" a graveling voice came from the man. The noble blinked and stepped forwards. "Yes, I am he. What... what do you want?"
The Gentleman walked closer and closer until his nose almost touched the baron's nose. "I'm here... about your warehouse in the Tan district." the baron blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
The Gentleman's teeth ground together, "You heard me. The one with the slaves. And the drugs." the growl of his voice almost echoing in the rafters.
The baron scoffed, turned his back and walked away. "I'm talking to you."
Stopping, the baron turned to glance over his shoulder "Is that all? You're here about a business venture of mine? What, have you stolen my workers?"
"Your workers? Your *slaves* were young and old, taken from their homes and spent their lives cooking your chemicals for you day and night. Yes, I stole them. They're now free."
The baron frowned, "I say, this is most uncommon. And now you're here to what? Try to ransom them? Demand my recipes?" he turned and leaned his chin on his hand, "You know, for being the Gentleman Thief, who stole the crown jewels of Laria only last month, I simply don't see any grandness of scheme in this. Frankly, I'm disappointed." he brought a perfumed handkerchief to his nose and withdrew deeply, his eyes closing as a shudder past through his body.
"Oh well, I guess I shall just have to find new ones. Now is there more? Let me tell yo u, I'm hoping for something bigger and better for this setup."
The Gentleman stared at him in silence for a while, then spoke. "I saw a four-year-old boy with burn marks all over his face and no fingers be beaten as he couldn't keep the flames high enough. A child mutilated for your profits."
"Really?" The puffed-up baron seemed genuinely surprised. He turned to glare at an aide who avoided his eyes. "Raisslin, is this true?" The man made no effort to respond and the baron slapped him on the face. "Answer me you fool!"
The Gentleman had folded his arms, sword hanging loosely and was watching the scene with contempt and a puzzled morbid curiosity.
The man mumbled something. "What did you say? Speak up, man."
The man stepped forwards and whispered something to the baron's ear. The baron brightened visibly and turned with a sweeping gesture towards the Gentleman. "Ah, I've been informed by this doofus here" a glare to the retreating man "that you are misinformed."
The Gentleman simply raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.
"You see, they weren't *real* children, just serf and peasant whelps." the baron smiled grandly, raised his eyebrows and spread his arms in a sort of shrug, as if trying to say that assuredly cleared things up for the better.
The Gentleman closed his eyes and chuckled, the sword now pointing down at the ground. He approached the man, who to his credit didn't even flinch. He circled the baron, eyeing the extravaganza of his jewelry and clothes. "Ah yes." He turned his back on the baron and raised his arms to the crowd, his voice ringing clearly now, without a hint of gravel or accent. "As all know who I am, and I have a reputation to uphold, I shall now tell you what I came to steal!"
A gasp ran through the crowd. Truly, this was the night of all nights.
The Gentleman pointed his rapier at the baron without even looking at him, "I will steal... his life!"
The crowd fell silent as comprehension refused to dawn on them. Was he serious? Was this some game? Was this just a joke?
A shrill laughter escaped the baron's throat as he brought the back of his palm up to his mouth. "A life? My life? OH! How ludicrous! You fool! You utter fool!" he threw his head back and laughed, and the crowd laughed nervously with him. Yes, ludicrous, surely a man like the baron would be extremely well-protected. Enchantments and charms in the folds and material of his clothing, scarabs and amulets of protection, rings of power... it was quite likely you could have fired a cannon at him and he would've just shrugged it off.
He raised his palms in mock fear, "I see, you will stab me with that... thing" he gestured vaguely at the sword. "Even though I'm quite safe. My personal protection is well-known, layered and designed by no less than three masters of enchantment from the house of Arium. In fact, if I were so inclined I could take off all of them apart from the Amulet of Eriy'an'qi and still be quite safe from anything you might come up with!" He waddled a fat finger at the Gentleman. "What do you say to that, thief!? Hmm?" he grinned excitedly, clearly enjoying himself.
The Gentleman reached with his free hand to the folds of his coat and withdrew a golden amulet and hung it from its chain. "This one?" the baron gaped at the bauble and began patting at the nape of his neck rapidly, instantly recognizing the accessory he put on first every morning, and just as clearly not finding it on his body. A nervous laughter ran through the crowd as the priceless artifact fell to the floor.
The waddling finger pointed at the Gentleman again. "You... you scoundrel! That doesn't mean anything, my rings alone are--" breath catching in his throat as the Gentleman produced a handful of rings and let them tinkle onto the floor. The baron stared numbly at his fingers, obviously bereft of precious metals. "I... there's twenty charms of protection in my clothes! There!" the triumphant waggle again freezing as a handufl of small strips of cut cloth fell to the ground one by one.
The baron took a step back "You... my belt of reversal!" a cut strip of leather fell to the ground between them, jumped once with the broken enchantment's last gasp and then was still. "My bracelets of physical station!" a chain of broken strips of silver fell near the growing pile of very expensive magical equipment. "My braid of tugging!" a long weave of gold and silver thread fell, cut in several pieces.
The baron was frantic, his hands everywhere on his body trying to check every hidden location of an element of protection against anything trying to hurt him and others that would have repaired any damage instantly. He was babbling now, and only looked up as a clatter of wood hit the pile. "How did you... even my..." he wiggled his hips, and patted, clearly trying to feel for something and couldn't. "I... I..." his mouth dry, he had no words for the silent thief anymore. And in those cold eyes he saw his death.
Some men might have fought. Some men might have called for guards. The baron Samien screamed and turned to run.
The sword took him in the back, stabbing neatly into his heart. The Gentleman had not even moved, choosing instead to *throw* the rapier at the man.
A scoff from the side drew everyone's eyes. "I say, you're not supposed to throw a ra--" a pair of menacing eyes turned in his direction and he fell silent.
And then, his deed done, the Gentleman Thief turned and stalked back to the door, the crowd again parting before him like reeds as he reached the door and walked outside without a single closing remark. What was there to say? | The party was in full swing. Men and women in elaborate formal wear dancing and laughing, socialites gossiping over glasses of champagne, enjoying expensive finger foods. Duke Harmon Conwell, a high ranking noble in the nation of Axeron and a proud sponsor of the Ashlock Adventuring Academy, was greeting his guests. This was the night of his firstborn’s 26th birthday, the heir to the Conwell Duchy, Gideon Conwell.
The aforementioned Gideon was flirting with a few of the guests. He was known to be a charmer, long golden blond hair and a perfect smile. Lady Mallory Tamris, one of the women conversing with the duke’s son, was about to take a sip of champagne when she heard a sudden whisper in her ear.
“Don’t drink anything a Conwell gives you.”
By the time Mallory had turned to look at who it was whispering to her, the individual had vanished, and so had her drink- right from her hands. She looked around momentarily confused, and then she saw him.
He stood in the middle of the room, dressed in an outfit several of the upper-class had come to recognize- and to dread. Black cloak, shoulders mantled with raven feathers, a birdlike mask that covered the upper face, and a well-tailored suit. The Gentleman Thief, one who had stolen thousands of golds’ worth of jewelry and other such luxuries in the past few years. Ever elusive, always quick with a joking quip and a sly smile on his face. He was known to break into places and escape using strange magic, rarely ever getting into combat. But Mallory saw a glint of something on his hip. Metal.
“Thief!” she yelled, pointing to the man who had somehow appeared in the middle of the ballroom. The dancers stopped, and the majority of those in attendance turned their attention to the black-clad gentleman.
“Not the introduction I had planned,” the gentleman thief said, drawing a longsword from inside his cloak.
“He’s got a weapon!” someone screamed, the dancers on the floor stumbling over each other as they backed away. The gentleman thief, usually known for his easy demeanor and smile, wore a stone-cold expression, blade drawn and staring down the host of the party. He did not move, waiting as the guards rushed in. Duke Conwell himself approached the uninvited guest, emboldened by his security.
“Well well well, I never would have thought you’d choose such a flashy way to turn yourself in, but I suppose flashy is your call sign.” The duke said with a triumphant glare. The thief looked from side to side, guards slowly surrounding him.
“I have not come to surrender, Lord Conwell. I have come to repay a debt.” Said the thief said in an icy voice. Those who had met him before felt the hair stand up on the back of their necks. It was undeniably the gentleman thief’s voice, but there was something different in his tone this time. Bloodlust.
“A debt?” The duke asked, stroking his beard, “Well you’ve certainly stolen a few trinkets here and there, have you come to return them?”
“What I took can easily be replaced.” The thief responded, raising his sword and pointing it at the duke. “What was taken from me cannot.”
A flash of recognition in the duke’s eyes. That voice- he had heard it before. But that man had disappeared years ago… Only a few months before the gentleman thief made his debut. He was a threat.
“Kill him!” The duke ordered, flustered. The guards moved to attack, but the thief raised his left hand, an elaborate magic circle suddenly appearing on the floor below him. The spectral image of a dragon’s head appeared in the air, letting out a deafening roar. The knights who had been charging in to kill the thief froze in time.
“What?” the duke shouted incredulously, stumbling backwards, “But- but you’re just some thief! How do you wield such magic!”
The gentleman thief brandished his sword, walking right past the frozen guards and the guests who dared not stop him.
“Thief? Trinkets have never been my real objective, duke. They were a means to an end, a way to learn the structure of your estates and to pay for my research.” The thief said, an oppressive aura about him as magical energy swelled in his presence.
“My real objective-” he said, holding his left hand out, “was always this.”
Another magical circle formed on the ground, and across the room, one formed under the feet of Gideon. In a flash, Gideon was next to the thief, the thief’s left hand around his throat. The noble struggled, breaking free of the thief’s grip and swinging at him with a large fist. In a flash the thief was behind Gideon, conjured chains shooting out of the ground and holding him in place.
“Should I let you know the real identity of the ‘gentleman thief?’” he asked, arms wide as he addressed the entire ballroom that watched in horror. The gentleman thief slowly reached up to his mask, pulling it off. Beneath was the face of a man in perhaps his mid to late twenties, black curly hair, and eyes swirling gold and scarlet with magical energy.
“My name is Elias Cage. Four years ago, Gideon stole something from me that could never be returned.”
In Elias’s mind, he saw her. His wife, Jacqueline, the night it happened. Hollow eyes, dried tears. He saw the image of her grave, only a few months after.
“Your son is naught but a rabid animal, duke.” Elias said, flourishing the blade. “He ought to be put down.”
“No!” the duke called out, but it was too late. Gideon Conwell, the heir of the Conwell duchy, was slain. Screams of terror erupted from the crowd at the display. It was only then that the gentleman thief’s trademark smile returned, the corners of his lips curling upwards with his teeth bared. Those who saw him that night remembered seeing not a man, but a fiend.
“You covered it all up, Harmon.” Elias said, walking slowly from the corpse of the son to the still-living father. “You spread rumors that I was responsible, that I had caused Jacqueline's death.”
The duke, sitting in a puddle of his own urine, looked in terror as the demon approached. While Elias had not ensnared him in chains or frozen him with the roar of a time dragon, the duke could not move an inch.
"Why now?" He asked, "Why wait four years for your vengeance?"
"This is only the beginning, Conwell." Elias said. "My thievery let me in on many secrets. You nobles are complicit in a great many sins. I needed time to train, because after this I will have the entire kingdom chasing after me. You are the first, Conwell. You won't be the last. Be glad- you can join your son in hell.”
A slice. A plunge. Blood and gore splattered onto the expensive carpet at the base of the ballroom stairs, and Elias Cage turned with a maddened smile towards the crowd.
"I will uproot this blight by the roots. Live well, or I will come for you next."
From that night onwards, the kingdom of Axeron increased the bounty on Elias tenfold. Before, he was a skilled thief. Now, he was a threat skilled enough to infiltrate a ball and kill the hosts on his own, despite the presence of dozens of guards. People had stopped calling him the gentleman thief. The smile he wore, the glee he had while killing. He was a madman. The Mad Gentleman Elias Cage, enemy of the crown.
----
*Elias Cage is a character I have written about on this subreddit before. If you're interested to read more about him, check out [this older prompt.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/xxjdon/wp_you_are_a_supervillain_your_nemesis_calls_you/irj5dc5/)*
EDIT: Thank you for the award! | 2022-10-17T14:11:33 | 2022-10-17T12:50:32 | 516 | 266 |
[WP] Humanity finally abandons Earth to explore the Universe but they leave behind a spokesperson in a cryogenic chamber which is designed to open when extraterrestrial life is detected on the planet. After 400 years, aliens finally arrive.
Sorry if this is similar to a previous prompt; I'm far too lazy to check. | The great machine hissed and clanked to life as metal doors opened slowly, revealing their centuries guarded prize. The machinery around a frigid chamber skittered and folded into itself as it settled the sapphiric casing onto the pedestal before the three who had passed the trials of the great monument that housed this titanic engine.
These intrepid three had not merely stumbled into this temple; it was a sanctuary well guarded. Their forms were shrouded by cloaks that confounded the centuries old traps and scanners of this citadel, and they were well equipped with weapons that they had brought with them from beyond our stars.
As the color of the pod changed from deepest cobalt to a near translucent aquamarine, a small projector on the base of the pedestal shined an image between this otherworldly group and the crystalline chamber; one that had been prepared long ago. It was the image of a man.
"Greetings on behalf of all mankind. I am Dr. Lazarus Kind- the last human of Earth. I do not know what has become of my world or my species...I volunteered to stay behind when we left our home. That dark day was March 17th, Earth year 2288 A.C.E. I realize that these denominations of time may not mean anything to whoever has awoken me, my computer system will calculate how much of our time has passed since then."
The three extra-terrestrials watched, entranced as the image of Dr. Kind disappeared and a new image took his place. It was a celestial clock, an image of the Earth and her Moon. The Moon quickly traced it's orbit as the Earth spun in its place; a display at the bottom speedily tracked the passing of years until everything stopped in an instant. The onlooker closest to the projection extended a long arm from beneath his shroud which quickly brought a scanner to bear. Four hundred years had passed. The image of Dr. Kind suddenly appeared among the projection of the Earth and Moon.
"Due to the nature of my suspended state, I cannot yet tell how much time has passed. I hope that somehow this display has given you something that you can understand. As I relay this information to you, a process has been put into motion that will revive me. I greatly look forward to meeting you in person shortly...and I sincerely hope that you are friendly." The image of Dr. Kind disappeared, while the celestial clock ascended to the eaves of the room.
The three approached the cloudy pod cautiously. A steamy mist encircled the condensation drenched glass cylinder containing the wakening Dr. Kind. He was not yet awake, but he was clearly in good health. He was clean shaven and wearing a protective suit from his neck down. Small projections lit up across the inner lining of his glass cocoon as liquids slowly trickled down tubes extending from containers within the inner workings of the ceiling down and into gasket-lined holes in his suit. His eyes briefly clenched shut, not in discomfort but like someone who is just stirring from a long, restful sleep.
The three stood close to the chamber and one by one they pulled the shrouds down from over their helmeted visages to watch the process. The shape of their helmets denoted a physiology undeniably unlike that of humans: slender and narrow to match their tall bodies, with three dark red lenses in the center and what appeared to be five hornlike appendages that bridged from their foreheads to the base of the backs of their helmets. They spoke among themselves in their strange dialect, and pointed to happenings within the vessel that fascinated them.
Dr. Kind's eyes open. His pupils dilate as they adjust to light unseen for a time longer than any of his ancestors. The gaskets on his suit click and release themselves from his body and their connectors on his suit close shut with a quiet snap. His sight is still burry as he attempts to look at the readings displayed in front of him as he takes his first shaky, controlled breaths. He centers himself and clears his throat.
"I-I am D-Dr. Lazarus Kind. Computer...how long has it been?" He opened his eyes again and, now seeing much better than moments ago, regarded the three star travelers who now looked at him with their plainly curious gaze. Lazarus spoke, "...and who are our guests?"
| The sharp hiss of the sealed door was the first thing I had heard in years. Many years. I had been floating on pleasant dreams; the masses cheering, flowers raining down on me as I was ushered away to the cryo chamber. The occasional nightmare of the sterilization process, painful and intrusive.
I fell forward, into a slippery appendage. From whoever had awakened me, I realized happily. The time had come. It was my time to extend first contact on behalf of my species. I coughed up the fluid in my lungs and looked up at the newcomer, eyes still blurry.
Long, slick looking legs lead to an equally slender torso and arms. Looking around the room, they apparently ranged from gray to purple; all somewhat blue in coloration though. Some kind of racial thing maybe, similar to our own? Maybe we would have more in common than I'd thought. Their heads, however, were all black. In the dim blue light from the chamber, I could make out small eyes and mouths, sharp noses. And they were so tall, at least 10' and the shortest.
They all looked so graceful and beautiful. Except that their expressions were clearly dismayed.
"You. The Cryo?" a lavender hued one nearest to me asked, her (Maybe a her?) tone light and soft, like a birds twitter. There was an intonation of disbelief. I hadn't expected them to have similar social tools as us. Maybe their dismay was actually joy. Maybe her disbelief was reverence. It was natural that they would develop differently, and not knowing how was so confusing. Especially freshly-popped from deep freeze. My training, a lifetimes worth, seemed woefully inadequate.
"Yes, I am The Cryo. Left here by my people for many solar rotations, to make contact with you." I hoped my english would be understood.
"So small. Your people tell stories. Very great, wisest, biggest, strongest. They pray." her(?) tone was matter-of-fact now, as though presenting me with this information would make me recant who I was and why I was here.
"Maybe not so big, but wise and strong." I was not, in fact, large. At all. About 5' 1'' and slender. Oh dear. That tends to be how fables go and it seems that's what I'd become.
"Hostage now." She stated simply.
Oh. Oh dear...
"Your people attack us. Claim to be huge, with great power. Their power is machines, we see as such now, and we will crush them if they do not leave us."
Ah. Oh dear. I had to think of something, to scramble for my species power.
"No, I am not big. I am the smallest. They have grown quite large and powerful. Mighty." So they lied, so I shall as well. Damn ungrateful brats.
"No, small man." She stated almost condescendingly. "Quiet now."
And then the sharp strike from a rifle-butt quieted me. I suppose it was time for more dreams anyway. | 2016-01-03T09:01:29 | 2016-01-03T08:26:54 | 268 | 30 |
[WP]: Your village idiot is full of the strangest superstitions. She goes on about washing one's hands, says you get worms in your intestines from standing barefoot on night soil and that medicines with mercury should be avoided at all costs. You're starting to suspect she might be onto something. | "but the bread mold saved your grandfather Mort. And the maggots saved Earl's crushed food when everyone knew he was going to die. Sucking out the snake bite didn't save your boy Martha but any other healer would not have even tried. We lost what six of the last twenty babes born under her care? What other village can boast of so many live births. Not to mention her way with the flocks and hogs. Everyone has benefitted from her knowledge."
For a moment there I thought I had swayed them. Even the mayor his hands still holding the rope to bind her with looked both thoughtful and ashamed. Then the preacher spoke.
"Knowledge yes. Forbidden knowledge. Does the good book not say a woman shall remain silent excepting her husband's command. Even if we can attribute such luck to her, and you all mind it's God's glory that saves both flocks from blights and new born babes. No matter how much cleaning you do to barns or washing of hands. For does the book not say all good things come from the Lord. I say again she is a witch meant to lead people from the church. Do you all think I would not notice you send your children to her in secret instead of church for a proper education. As to saving lives who is she to save a man God has chosen to take. But I see you've moved these common folk with your speech so let me ask here and know before your neighbors and God who would go against God and stop the right and blessed hanging of a witch? Who would allow their children to be lead away from the teachings in the good book?"
I must confess I keep my eyes down and my mouth shut.
I wanted her to scream and fight when we arrived. Instead she spoke calmly laying out her case much as I did. The preacher tried to rouse the crowd but his angry words were not answered.
She begged at the end then laughed at us saying we were killing our children believing in a book written so long ago.
I stood in the crowd as she dropped. It wasn't a clean break and the mayor was weeping openly as he helped her to finish it. | "Dear, don't listen to her!"
I stood square and looked mom in the eye. "I will. She explained more of it and it all hangs together. She said we could *die*. I think we should at least… check it."
Mom took a deep breath and came around the table. "I had hoped she'd be able to hold her tongue around the kids. What a thing to obsess about! Lousy woman, not letting us handle things in our own time. Honey!"
Dad appeared momentarily. "Mmmm?"
Mom looked to me. "Would you repeat that for father?"
So I did, hesitantly.
Dad and Mom stared to each other for a moment. Then, Dad began the terrible secret of death: "Her concerns *were* real, and her solutions *were* good, once, long ago, well before we spread from our first planet…" | 2017-09-14T10:52:25 | 2017-09-14T09:10:03 | 82 | 18 |
[WP] With the hero tied up to the death trap, the villain starts their monologue. Just then, a henchman trips over a cord and triggers the trap, killing the hero. "Oh crap, this wasn't a part of the plan," says the alarmed villain. | Beads of perspiration slowly fell down the hero’s paralyzed face. It was frozen in fear and horror. Dr. Bridge had a cruel smile. This was it. His moment. After a long and grueling battle Dr. Bridge had finally been able to snag on to the hero’s cape midair. He had used his rope blaster to finally put an end to the scuffle.
“Finally, an end to it all. “ Dr bridge rasped as he gazed menacingly into the hero’s eyes.
“Why have you done this, Bridge?” Cried the hero, now chained up an elaborate electric chair.
Bridge smiled with bloodthirsty glee. This was the moment. The one he’d been waiting for. “It started, young hero, when I was but a simple scientist. I thought I could heal the world. But then, I realized humans were in the way of my plan. They only destroyed. So I decided to-“
He was cut off by the sound of the electric chair powering up. Behind him, one of his henchman was caught in a snare of wires. He turned back to the hero. He was dead.
“You insolent fool! What am I supposed to do now? Do I win?”
The henchman stared. “Yes, my lord. You’ve won! Let us celebrate!”
“What? No. This shouldn’t be happening. He’s supposed to defeat me. Who’s going to show me that humans aren’t a hopeless race after all? Who will convince me to continue my research and do good for the world?”
Dr Bridge was shaking. His henchman didn’t understand. The hero dying should be a cause for celebration!
“Am I really a villain after all?” Mumbled Dr. Bridge. “I’ve killed the hero, and now I actually have to destroy the human race. That’s a lot to take in all of the sudden.”
“I shall power up the death ray, my lord.”
“Hang on. What’s that?” Screamed Bridge.
As the henchman looked away, the doctor used yet another invention, the ventrilogon.
He shot the ventrilogon at his henchman sending a blazing neon ribbon through the sky. Then, he shot again at the dead body of the valiant hero. The ribbons wrapped around each body, then tied together. They burst into an explosion of light, sending smoke into the air.
Out of the smoke appeared not his henchman, but the body of the hero. Only it had the mind of his henchman.
Dr. Bridge laughed, “Alas, a new foe!” | ''Seven days, it took me seven days to set up this scene and you just completely ruined it.''
I slowly walk towards Rick who joined my crew two weeks ago. I look at him in the eye I take my gloves off and hold it between my face and his face. He starts to shake, he can’t say anything.
''Inhale it, smell it'' I say.
He smells the gloves and he drops to ground.
I point at the dead hero, ''This guy gave me a horrible time for the last couple of months. He was new to the city. He really had cool tricks and he dared to taunt me countless times. I knew I was going to get him one day.'' I say.
Then, I point at the Rick who is coughing agonizingly on the ground, ''Now this fucker had balls to ruin everything. I can not make him live.''
The rest of the crew looks at me worried. I point at the sky and I close my eyes. I can smell all the fear coming from them.
''There is one thing I can do. One thing that matters the most to me. The god’s verdict.'' I say and I pull out my amulet.
''If this turns red he must die.''
------------------------
*Thank you for reading the story*
*Just FYI, I'm not a native speaker so, if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes please don't mind it.* | 2019-12-25T19:33:20 | 2019-12-25T16:27:50 | 22 | 13 |
[WP] Write a story with a large, illogical plot hole, then have the main character discover it. | It was July 17, 2005. Craig Katz drove to his home in Bloomington, Indiana. As he stepped out of his car, he waved to the mailman making his route. The postal officer did not return the call.
Craig grabbed his mail, opened his door, and stepped inside.
Out he laid the assorted envelopes for careful examination. He first noticed the electricity bill. Overdue. Next came the gas bill. Same case. Craig set them aside. His gaze fell on a postcard, an item which Craig never received. Its contents were handwritten. Its stamp was applied with human hands. Craig kissed it. He knew what it contained.
"Dear Daddy,
We are having a great time here in Paris. We just went up the Eiffel Tower and tomorrow we are going to see the Mona Lisa. Wish you were with us!
Love,
Katy
XOX"
Craig set the postcard aside, but in a different stack.
His eyes shifted to the final letter. With a quick glimpse of the return address, his eyes dropped. His fingers slowly tore open the envelope from Monroe County Circuit Court and unfolded the letter. Craig's eyes fell again. A divorce summons.
Also overdue.
Our hero took all four letters and consolidated them into a single stack, which he chucked into a wastebin. He had a letter of his own to write.
"Dear anyone,
I'm sorry. It could have gone a lot better. But it didn't. Tell Katy I'm sorry, please. Tell her I'm really stupid. Just make sure someone is taking care of her, even if that someone is..."
He droned on.
"Tell the world I'm sorry. My life, whatever that is, should not have taken this long. It's been a waste. I'm sorry again."
The man with a wasted life trekked into his closet and pulled out the shotgun. He returned to the table and set it down.
"I will miss you. Please do not return the favor.
Yours (whoever you are),
Craig Ezekiel Katz
Sunday, July 17, 2005"
He paused.
"Sunday, July 17, 2005."
Sunday.
Craig looked in the wastebin, but there was nothing inside. | Forgive me, but I feel like writing a bit of an "Established Universe" story for this. I take you now to the end of Terminator 2: Judgement Day:
John Connor gazed into the vat of molten steel, tears welling in his eyes. The hand of his friend, melting away, gave a final thumbs up. A fitting end to their brief and turbulent friendship. He sighed a sigh of great relief, the danger now far behind him.
This emotion lasted but mere moments. You see, John was a smart individual. Now that the adrenaline of the past few days had stopped coursing through him, his thinking had cleared. It was at this moment that one singular thought came to him: If one T-1000 couldn't complete the job, couldn't they just send back an army of...
That would be the last thought John Conner ever had, as his skull was pierced by liquid metal. It seems Skynet was, at the very least, as clever as a teenage boy. | 2014-05-25T19:49:32 | 2014-05-25T19:41:16 | 235 | 101 |
[WP] Two people who live forever, continuously fake their own deaths only to have the other crashing the funeral. | Victoria: "Get out of the box, asshole."
Percival doesn't respond, not to Victoria's words, nor to her increasingly annoyed kicking at his his casket.
Why would he respond, he's dead.
Victoria: "Dammit Percy, we already went through this, get out of the box."
An awkward silence fills the room of the funeral home. Percival Stag's funeral wasn't very large, only around a dozen people, the majority of whom he hadn't known in life. Likely friends of friends.
An older man in a slightly worn grey suit approaches the woman at the head of the casket, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Man: "Ma'am, please. We're all grieving, but-"
Victoria flicks the man's hand off of her, not turning to face him. Her voice suddenly drops from anger to frigid annoyance.. The temperature of the room drops with it.
Victoria: "Sit back down. This is a private matter."
Man: "Yes Ma'am."
The man all but runs back to his chair as Victoria continues to berate the corpse.
Victoria: "Percival, I swear to god if you don't get up this instant I will drag you out of here, funeral or not."
She stays silent for a moment, waiting to see if Percival will test her. The dead man stays silent.
Victoria reaches down and grabs the collar of the man's funeral suit.
Percival: "All right, all right, Christ... you couldn't have waited until after the funeral?"
A collective shriek of terror and surprise rises from the funeral's audience.
Victoria: "No, I couldn't."
Percival: "Why not? Last time you just dug me out and we were right as rain."
Victoria: "Last time I got fucking shot because a cop thought I was robbing graves."
Percival: "Really? You never told me that."
Victoria: "Yes I did, now get up. We've got stuff to do."
Percival: "Fine, fine, I'm up."
Percival sits up and pulls himself out of the open casket, dusting himself off. Victoria grabs him by the arm and yanks him out the door of the funeral, leaving the confused guests, and the equally confused funeral home owner.
He wonders if he's still getting paid after this. | ‘The good ones always go first!’ Samantha wailed, as she approached the casket, gripping Mathilda in a half hug. She grabbed at Adam’s ice cold hand and pressed her lips to it.
Mathilda couldn’t be sure, but it was almost like the hand recoiled a centimeter, as Samantha gripped it with more ferocity. Probably a reflex. Dead people get those right?
‘The mortician did a wonderful job, didn’t they?’ Samantha continued as she stood up and straightened her little black dress. ‘You wouldn’t even think he was gone. Only sleeping.’ She broke down again, and was quietly, but firmly, guided by the funeral director and their assistant to the refreshments table.
Later, much later, Adam snapped, ‘What the fuck was that? My kids were there, my wife was there, the police were there!!’
‘That was for ‘67, you bastard, don’t think I’ve forgotten.’
‘You’re never gonna let that go will you?’
‘Never.’ | 2022-10-05T18:50:14 | 2022-10-05T17:06:57 | 90 | 63 |
[WP] 2021: Hell invades Earth; 2022: Earth invades Hell. | When they first rose from that damnable abyss we scattered like ants across the surface of the globe, but we didn't hide forever. Even within the first weeks those with weapons would conduct hit and run tactics against the ever encroaching army while those in charge attempted to put together a more suitable strategy. Sure there were people who would shout and scream till they were blue in the face trying to convince us that god was the only one who could save us, but those prayers and pleas fell on deaf ears. God had truly abandoned us, but we were no longer the scared and helpless world we were before. We had rifles to gun them down, missiles to lay waste to their army, and the same amount of mercy they showed us.
It didn't take long for us to push them back just as hard as they pushed us, but no matter the encounter we suffered losses. By the time a full year had passed we were sure we would lose. Hopelessly, and with no where left to turn we prayed to God once more, but it wasn't him who answered the call for help. When we saw our soldiers charge from out the hellish maw that their armies advanced from our first thoughts turned to betrayal. It was only when our allies began to commence flanking attacks on the demons and devils that we knew we had them beat. Who was to watch over the slave pits when you needed every available troop to stop the marching advances of humanity?
In the end, it wasn't just our former allies that rose from hell to push back the devils, but every soul ever sentenced to pain and agony for the crimes they had committed. We became brutal, engaging in suicide attacks every time we charged forwards. Death could not contain us, and every man and woman who fell on the battlefield came marching out of that fiery gate. Our fallen invading Hell from within. Even Satan could not beat us, we bathed him in nuclear fire until the only thing left was a puddle of radioactive sludge. We had no fear of using these weapons of destruction anymore. There was agony, but life for us was eternal.
In the end we had proved that our numbers, and our savage human nature had won out over the forces of hell. There was no one preaching love anymore, love and piousness hadn't won the war. With our last great enemy defeated, we grew restless, we needed more. We all stood in hell, surrounding Satan's toppled throne when we made the decision to keep our endless march moving forward. We as one turned our eyes to sky, marched out of that portal, and in 2023 we invaded heaven. | Polanski: HOLY FUCK THEY GOT TO EARTH?!
Rider: The demons? "Sigh", seems like taking over our station in Mars wasn't enough.
Polanski: Sir, please tell me we can kill them.
Rider: Yes and to kil- wait a second, my men just brung in a live demon, I'll bring the phone closer to it.
Rider: What's up jackass, you speak English?
"Demon": You have to let me go! We only invaded earth to escape him!
Rider: Well, that was unexpected, you do speak English, who is HIM?
"Demon": He was the sole survivor of our invasion of what you call Mars, you must understand our invasion of your planet is a battle for survival, not for war.
Rider: Shit, where is he now? In Hell?
"Demon": Yes no- "gunshots"
Rider: Thanks dumbass, we got all we needed. Polanski please make your way back to UAC command.
"Soldier": Sir! We just found a picture of who the demon is referring to.
Rider: Who the fuck is Doomguy? If he's in there who don't need to invade Hell, just defend our home. Maybe demons should learn to defend their homes as well. | 2016-12-10T08:16:31 | 2016-12-10T08:15:33 | 99 | 22 |
[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. | Alex Bennett was a sturdy man. His physique resembled that of a raging bull. Thick neck. Wide torso. Square forehead. Save for the nose ring of course. Instead, Alex Bennett sported a thick and luscious mustache. The kind that spiraled slightly upwards at each end. The kind that somehow neatly matched his round bald head and his curly locks of chest hair.
Even as rugged a man as he is, Alex Bennett enjoyed the delicate things in life. Particularly high tea and knitting. After sipping earl grey from his bone china cup and enjoying a selection of assorted biscuits, Alex Bennett would get to work, knitting an array of sweaters and socks and mittens. Somehow, his stocky fingers were able to produce the most delicate patterns of leaves and flowers. This was, of course, after his retirement.
Alex Bennett worked in a petite bakery shop which sold an array of pound cakes, cupcakes, and cheesecakes. He had a sweet tooth and very much enjoyed the 40% employee discount which came as one of the perks of his job. Customers were often startled by his look, but he calmed their spirits with his soft spoken voice and friendly demeanor. At the petite bakery shop, Alex Bennett was in charge of decorating cakes. And he did so with designs as intricate as those on his hand knitted sweaters.
Alex Bennett enjoyed his quiet, solitudinous life. He never had any girlfriends, for he may have seemed too intimidating for any to approach. Although he never understood why people were often startled and overwhelmed by his guise, he paid no mind to it, for he was content with his life, knitting and drinking high tea. And when Alex Bennett finally passed away at the age of 81, he was alone, knitting in his country home.
Nobody found the body of Alex Bennett, who seemed to have simply disappeared. Instead, they found the body of a frail old lady sprawled out on the ground, ball of yarn in hand. A lady which nobody in the little town had seen before. She was a lady with a special ability, to disguise by distorting the perception of her image in the mind of others. And she particularly liked large Italian men with thick mustaches. | The woman spoke to the assembly, pausing now and then to look one particular person in the face, then another.
'...a hard worker, raising a business up from nothing, and a loving mother, helping to raise all of us and making time for us when she could. A generous and fun grandmother, that all of her grandchildren were glad to see...'
The words went on, laying out a life that was rich with connections, seized opportunities and love. As is customary, any negatives were glossed over, forgotten as family and friends mourned.
The coffin slid out of sight behind the curtains as the organ piped a sad farewell, and the service was over. People filed out to shake hands, to embrace, to talk and to remember.
Nobody noticed that as the body crumbled into charred bones and ashes, the humidity of the surrounding area went down by a full five per cent. The woman who could attract water vapour was gone. | 2014-08-08T07:24:10 | 2014-08-08T05:28:34 | 84 | 30 |
[WP] Canada has suddenly gone dark. No communication, no trade, no activity from within. Nothing for days. Alaska, now cut off from mainland US, is slowly ceasing in contact with the US federal government until a final correspondence is given: "Leave us. Reinforce the border. Don't ever open it." | It technically started with the geese disappearing. It's not something anyone really paid a lot of attention to. People blamed climate change, and pesticides, and over-hunting. It was a perfectly logical explanation, and for dozens of other species, the correct one. Not this time, though.
Regardless, it was quickly forgotten. A lot of people weren't that fond of geese anyway. Nobody thought back to it the day Canada went silent. The FAA was the first to notice it. Pretty hard not to when nearly a thousand planes drop off the radar at once. They quickly attempted to call Transport Canada, which is when they realized the phones were out. An assistant ran to the break room, hoping to pick up something on Canadian news on the TV, which is when it started to become clear that nothing was coming from Canada.
It was a good twenty-four hours before the various government agencies finally decided that something was wrong. They decided the best thing to do was to fly a plane over Canada and see what was going on. Given it's location relative to Canada, the first flight went out from Eielson Air Force Base. It never came back. Neither did the next dozen. The commanders in Alaska refused to send anyone else.
With all the confusion from all the various public, private, and government groups trying to figure out what to do about an entire country essentially ceasing to exist, it was some time before anyone realized that the refusal to send more planes was the last thing they had heard from Alaska in a week. Someone finally attempted to reach out, but there was no official response from anyone. Every branch of the military attempted to send something to Alaska, but the result was always the same, more silence.
The last message from Alaska was sent on a ham radio:
"To anyone who can hear this message, do not send help. If you are in the continental United States, do not send anything into Canada. Set up a fire line, dig up every gun you can. Do not let them get out of Canada if you can help it. If you are anywhere else in the world, be ready. It's the geese. We didn't know, nobody could've. It must've been the testing back in the 50's. They've become... something... more... nobody knows, because nobody has lived to come back... oh my God, I think they're coming!". Gunfire could be heard in the background, along with people screaming, and some other sound, somewhat familiar, yet completely foreign, an impossibly loud squawking. The radio signal faded to static. | Canada has gone dark.It happened about 2 weeks ago. No contact from within, no trades, nothing. Just void, emptyness. That is until yesterday, one message sent to anything adjoined to the country."Leave us. Reinforce the border. Never open it." Those words shook us to the core. What could be happening that warrented such a vauge, off-putting message? Officials didn't know what to do. Seal the borders? Investigate? The president came to a conclusion after a week's time. He was broadcast onto the radio, internet, and television with this message: "An election will be held on August 27th, 2019 to decide our move with Canada. Investigate, or prepare? The government is putting the choice to you, the people." A few days went by, and the elections started. Everything was peaceful, until an ear-splitting roar was heard from the border. The border had fallen. Dust flew up in a cloud, blocking any and all vision. Nobody could prepare for what came next. A horde of monsters. Not bloody or gory, but pale, humanoid figures that ripped through the flesh of any living being it could set its hands on like butter. As I type this from the confines of my cellar, I hear a scratch at the door. | 2019-08-25T18:49:11 | 2019-08-25T17:29:24 | 5,403 | 63 |
[WP]A new theory of quantum mechanics leads nations to pour trillions into research grants, but scientists quickly resolve all mysteries, effectively completing physics. With limitless resources and no problems left to solve, bored scientists spend their time and money on less practical experiments. | Samson rubbed his temples. “What did you make, Gordon?”
Gordon cleared his throat and pulled out what looked like an old fashioned ‘50s ray gun. “I made this.”
“Is it a weapon?”
“A weapon of mass erection,” laughed Gordon. “Just set the dial, aim it at a woman and pull the trigger. It will make her breasts whatever size you want.”
“Really?”
Gordon shrugged. “You could use it on a man. Equal opportunity.”
Samson pointed at the door. “Get the hell out.”
As Gordon walked out Carpenter walked in.
“What did you make, Carpenter?” said Samson.
Carpenter cleared her throat and pulled out what looked like an old fashioned ‘50s ray gun. “I’ve been constructing this.”
Samson sighed. “Please tell me it’s a weapon.”
“Just set the dial, aim it a a man-“
“Get out,” yelled Samson.
Zarkowski snuck in next. She cleared her throat and pulled out a shoebox. “I created this.”
Samson raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, eyeing the box. “What does it do?”
“It’s a box.”
“Cardboard companies make boxes. We’re scientists.”
Zarkowski took off the top of the box. “Look inside.”
Samson took the box and peered inside. His eyes went wide. “Holy shit,” he whispered.
Zarkowski nodded. “I figured out how to connect to different dimensions.”
Samson reached into the box up to his shoulder. “It’s…” he stumbled for words. “It’s bigger on the inside.”
"Yes. It's scalable. Anything from shoe boxes to homes to factories." Zarkowski beamed. "We could even take obsolete phone booths and turn them into homes for the homeless. Trash cans could become essentially bottomless."
"We could pump our excess CO2 into another dimension. Just attach one of these onto every polluter's pipestack or tailpipe," said Samson. He rubbed his hands together. "Finally something that will make this lab some money."
| The calculation came back from the computer. The old dusty monitor displayed a string of green text:
"SQRT(2)=1.41421"
"We must keep trying," stated Jackson, the project leader.
Gordon, Jackson's right hand man, immediately stood up. "But Sir," he proclaimed, "we have tried hundred upon hundreds of times and we still receive the same results. Perhaps we try a different approach?"
"I'M SORRY GORDON," yelled Jackson furiously, "I THINK I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT SCIENCE. DID YOU DISCOVER HOW TO SPLIT THE ELECTRON?"
"N-n-no Sir, but I believe that we may have reached a conclusion in our experiment. Now, I firmly believe that throwing pretzel M&M's at a ripe banana just won't change the value of the square root of two." | 2015-03-02T19:50:21 | 2015-03-02T19:43:49 | 40 | 22 |
[WP] Your Reddit username decides your profession. How is your first day at work?
If possible. Some usernames just don't work well in this situation.
---
I'm an FBI agent now. Wooo!
You're all under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason.
---
Dear God RIP my inbox | When I first entered the building that was now to give me money for doing what I had always been doing I got a slight annoyance from the squeaky doors. I proceeded to walk over the large hall to the woman obviously responsible for squeaky doors; the receptionist. I told her that if that door squeaked when I went through it the next time I would fire her. Not that I was in any position to fire her, but she didn't know that.
I walked over to the elevator and pressed the "up" button. It took over 20 seconds for the elevator to arrive. How annoying. I pressed the top button and waited. Remarkable slow elevator, I thought to my self as I was hitting the floor button over and over again.
Finally the elevator came to a grinding halt on floor 35, top floor. The management floor. I took a deep breath as the doors opened and started power walking right to the CEO office. I barked something at the poor secretary sitting outside the door and rammed myself into his office. The man behind looked startled at me and asked; who are you? you can't be here! get out!.
I continued my still uninterrupted powerwalk right to his desk and jumped on top of it. The CEO pushed himself away from the desk and sunk down into his chair as I started yelling.
For a good five minutes I gave him the most "you are the most useless person that has ever lived" speech that has ever been given. After the yelling I jumped off his desk and sat down on his lap, and 10 cm from his face I told him that I was hired by the owners of the company and that this would now become a recurring event: Me coming into his office yelling at him until his numbers started to improve.
This was my first job as an angry man. I have since started my own company and I hire myself out to people that needs someone to yell at someone. I make millions doing this. | I'm all moved in. The office is fully furnished, degrees and certifications well hung on the wall. It's been more than a week now though and I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't a little concerned. No one has shown up and the phone is silent - apart from the occasional, wildly inappropriate prank call.
I guess some people are hard. Some people take more time to come. After all, this is a highly specialized client I'm looking for: someone that needs a fully certified Analysist AND Therapist.
Well, once word gets out I'll have to beat off the crowds with my bare hands. They'll even be trying to come in my backdoor. Such is the life of the world's first Analrapist. | 2016-02-22T11:21:32 | 2016-02-22T09:31:34 | 40 | 15 |
[WP]For hundreds of years your world has been under alien occupation. Your new job under your overlords is to scavenge ancient wreckage of your ancestors. One day you discover an ancient machine which upon activation shows a message. “Contact reestablished,Support will arrive soon.” | "I've activated protocol 597, we will send another signal when we're ready for you to return. Prepare until then, I've enabled the quantum anchor in bay 11 for you to lock on to."
*Understood. Syncing with bay 11, I will prepare.*
&#x200B;
**ALERT INBOUND SIGNATURE DETEC...**
&#x200B;
\*\*\*\*\*\*
&#x200B;
The Talnyvans had been on a recycling kick recently, wanting to salvage all the old technology they said was "safe" to explore now. I think they just wanted to erase what few reminders we have left of our former civilization, purge our history fully. It's not like I had a choice anyways to be here. But to find something that still works? that I never expected. I was just poking at the console to see if I could remove the glass, it would have just weighed a lot without being worth anything.
`Contact Reestablished. Support will arrive soon.`
&#x200B;
I just stared at it, dumbfounded.
&#x200B;
`Incoming request from anchor 11. Severe degradation detected, maintenance required. Bandwidth available at 3%. Voice and text only. Accept?`
&#x200B;
I just continued to stare at it for another minute before my thoughts were interrupted by the cheap communicator attached to my shirt, simple, but effective enough to get through the EM haze around the wreck.
&#x200B;
"HC415, you have not moved for several minutes! Finish what you are doing or I'm marking this as your break! Do you understand?!"
I hastily press the button to respond. "Yes, I understand, sorry"
&#x200B;
`Request accepted. Live feed enabled.`
&#x200B;
*Greetings commander. I am preparing the fleet for spatial translation. What is your status?*
&#x200B;
The voice was a pleasant masculine sound, but clearly artificial.
&#x200B;
"Uhhh, what? Who are you? The computer?"
&#x200B;
*I am an artifical node intelligence, code named KINGMAKER. My makers referred to me as Mac... I have received data that you are the interim commander as the ship has not been staffed in 341 years... that is unfortunate.*
&#x200B;
"Uhhh... yeah the Talnyvans won, everyone died or is like me, just picking up scraps. I don't think you can do much as a broken ship."
&#x200B;
*I should clarify, I am not located within your destroyed vessel. I am transmitting from another system. I was given advanced replication facilities and tasked with preparing for a reactivation signal. I have been preparing. My fleet stands by to liberate your world at your command.*
&#x200B;
"Uhm, don't be offended, but... please don't do that, the Talnyvans have hundreds of warships, there's nothing you can do. You'll just get the rest of us killed."
&#x200B;
*Then they should not be a significant obstacle. I have not been idle. I have constructed 79,248 capital warships, 518,433 Mid class vessels, and several million fighter drones. I have converted roughly 13% of the solid mass of this system, and several neighboring ones into a fleet, computational facilities, and battle operations centers. I have also constructed several dozen colony centers for refugees should they be needed.*
&#x200B;
The numbers boggled the mind. they shouldn't even be possible. But something flared within me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Hope.
&#x200B;
"... How long will it take you to get here?"
&#x200B;
*I am locked on to the quantum anchor we are using to communicate. I can perform spatial tunneling to your location with the improvements I've managed in roughly 11 standard earth minutes.*
&#x200B;
It could be a trick. This whole thing could be a setup. I'll probably die horribly. But if there's a tiny chance... just one chance in an infinite universe...
&#x200B;
"Do it."
&#x200B;
*Engaging drives. I will see you soon commander. Stay safe.*
&#x200B;
\----------
&#x200B;
Edit: I wrote a part two and three. I think these links work?
Part Two: [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cgfhsm/wpfor\_hundreds\_of\_years\_your\_world\_has\_been\_under/eul2w0u/?context=3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cgfhsm/wpfor_hundreds_of_years_your_world_has_been_under/eul2w0u/?context=3)
Part Three: [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cgfhsm/wpfor\_hundreds\_of\_years\_your\_world\_has\_been\_under/eumhyn7/?context=3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/cgfhsm/wpfor_hundreds_of_years_your_world_has_been_under/eumhyn7/?context=3) | "Contact reestablished. Support will arrive soon."
I blinked. The red letters still hung there, glowing dimly on the screen.
The realization that anything in this dump could still be functional took its time in settling in, and my mind reeled.
"Destroyed, Disassembled, and Deemed Worthless." The rubbish and waste of Kal-Yrg wasn't known for its usefulness, and it was my job to find exactly this: a console, some sort of ancient comms system from the Worlds' War, still functioning.
At best, to this point, I'd found a couple of intact computing consoles with their guts long removed and repurposed. My modest living relied on the timely reporting and delivery of any such articles, but these finds were rare, and even if such a trinket happened to find its way into the black market, no one seemed to care much. After a while, I didn't either.
This was different.
The words still glowed red on the screen:
"Contact reestablished. Support will arrive soon."
I'd be lying if I said the message didn't spark a moment's hope in this tired old heart. I'd be a fool if I told you I thought for more than a second it was anything more than an old and probably dysfunctional mechanism showing the last message it ever displayed. Still, my mind had trouble grasping the concept of functioning tech left in the wastes...
The Kal-Yrg Wastes went on for several hundred kilometers. Some folks said it was a fifth of the land on the planet. Those folks were wrong, but that's the feeling it gives you. Immense. Mountains and plains and rivers of refuse- the Graveyard of Humanity. The sheer amount of garbage would make it hard to parse out everything I guess. That's why I was there, after all. Someone had to make sure they made a proper and complete mess of our society. No half measures. No circuit board left alive.
That being said, the chances I'd stumble upon something like this some three hundred years after its usefulness had expired seemed astronomically slim. The Scions (that's what they call themselves, our *gracious hosts*) were infamously thorough, and, to the best of my knowledge, nothing we'd designed that long ago would've lasted more than a couple decades, let alone centuries.
I was indecisive for weeks. Do I turn it in to the Containment Officer? Sell it and hope it couldn't be traced back to me? The thought of opening it up myself flashed in my mind for a moment, but was quickly disposed of - I had no idea how ancient tech worked. A younger me might've panicked, but I didn't have much care for worrying all that much these days, so I let each thought have their turn, weighing one against another until I came to a decision.
Unfortunately, I'd waited too long, and the decision was made for me. Just under a month after I'd found the device, the local Investigations Officer came knocking, inquiring about a comms signal that had been picked up and traced back to one of my sectors.
I'd played it as dumb and straight as I could have, leading the officer to the device, claiming I wasn't sure I should touch it, the works. But it didn't work, and I was arrested that afternoon. My "trial", if you could call it that, was done within the week. Guilty, the unsurprising verdict. I was honestly shocked I'd even gotten a trial. I was less shocked to see the quality of my internment - that is to say, squalor.
I wasted away, tortured, malnourished, and overworked for what felt like an age. In truth, I'd almost forgotten who I was, let alone that little device with its dim display glowing red. I was reminded though, when one morning I found a similar console in the yard. It was smaller, more sophisticated, and it had a small set of instructions detailing its use on the back.
Upon following these instructions, I was greeted by a short message on its small but bright display:
"Contact reestablished. Support has arrived." | 2019-07-22T14:04:19 | 2019-07-22T11:46:11 | 1,039 | 264 |
[WP] As asuper villian, you happen to grab the same person as a hostage every time you need one, and you develop a bit of a crush. Whenever the hero takes longer than usual to rescue them, you try to get to know them better.
Edit: "asuper" should be "a super" and I should be less dumb
Edit 2 electric boogaloo: I'll be sure to check out Megamind now, thanks to all of the comments that like to point it out | Chelsea struggled against the rope bindings, but that only made them bite harder into her wrists and ankles. "Let me go!" she screamed at Raven, who stood by the window, the breeze throwing her auburn hair back in waves against her shoulders. In her hands was a piece of paper she was folding into a tiny origami bird.
"Chelsea, please. You know how it goes: you behave, and I don't hurt you. When Jaxson turns up and falls into my little trap, I let you go. All safe and sound."
Chelsea took a deep breath. Raven's perfume wafted to her, carried by the breeze from the window. That sweet familiar scent of crumbling biscuits. She'd put on more than usual, today. Her face, as always, was disguised by the mask with the long twisted beak. It used to frighten Chelsea. She could imagine it dipping into a person's stomach, like a vulture, then coming out painted red. Raven didn't scare her any more, though. She might be strong, but she'd never hurt Chelsea when abducting her; maybe she'd been a little rough at times, but she was somehow also gentle. The entire ordeal was more an inconvenience, these days, than anything else.
"But it *never* happens that way, Raven. Jaxson always sees through your dumb-ass traps. He always rescues me -- you never let me go."
Raven lay the completed paper bird down on the windowsill. "Yeah? Well, not this time. I'll be the one setting you free today."
That was an odd way to phrase it, Chelsea thought.
"So what have you got lined up for him? Is this whole apartment rigged to blow up the moment Jaxson enters it?"
"*Tut tut tut*," said Raven, wagging a finger. "No spoilers."
Chelsea raised her eyebrows. "Sorry for asking."
The beak turned away from the window, tilted, and then stared at her. A shiver splashed on Chelsea's neck and ran down her back. It seemed like the mask, or the woman inside the mask, was inspecting her.
"How's work going, Chelsea?"
"W- what? Are you serious?"
"Yes. I'm serious. I want to know how your work's going. I imagine running a little flower shop like that must be... *idyllic*."
"You really want to know?"
"Yes. Really!"
"Well..." Chelsea paused. "Well, not so great, right now, actually. Because I haven't been able to open today, seeing as I was *kidnapped!*"
"Generally, Chelsea. How's work going, in *general*?"
Chelsea could feel a ball of anxiety growing in her stomach. In truth, it wasn't going well. She was barely making enough money to afford the rent, and if things didn't change soon... Being here was at least a break from the stress. Maybe not a welcome one, but it was a distraction nonetheless.
Chelsea lowered her head. "Fine. I guess."
"You guess?" Raven stepped towards her and lowered herself onto the floor by her side. "That sounds a little ominous, Chelsea. Would you like to talk about it?"
The sweet perfume surrounded her now. There were flowery high notes, too. Rose petal, maybe. "I wouldn't want to distract you from your uh..."
"Come on, tell me about it."
"I don't really want to."
Raven paused. "You're not good enough at the business aspects. Bookkeeping and such. Is that it?"
"No. It's not that, at all," Chelsea replied.
"Oh. Is it that you're deadly allergic to flowers?"
Chelsea almost laughed. "...A few months ago a shop opened up a little way down the street. Flower Pirate."
Raven scoffed. "*Flower Pirate?* Seriously? What kind of name is that?"
"Says *The Raven*", Chelsea mocked.
"Hey! It's just *Raven*, now. And it's a pretty cool name, I think."
"Well anyway, Flower Pirate has a lot of marketing power. They're on tv, in the papers -- all over the place. They sell mainly to the rich and famous. We sell exactly the same things -- even better arrangements, in my opinion. But they price at ten times what we do -- and it sells. Ours doesn't. I think... I think them opening was really the beginning of the end. First nail in the coffin. Simply put, they're trendy, and we're not."
"Beginning of the end? That's..."
Chelsea could feel her eyes welling. "Yeah. It is."
"You okay?"
Chelsea nodded, but a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Raven wiped it away with a gentle finger. She then raised her hands and lifted the mask from off her face. A woman with dazzling blue eyes, and skin like snow, looked not unkindly at Chelsea.
"Are you... are you going to have to kill me now?"
Raven grinned. "Kill my best hostage? Are you crazy?" She leaned forward and loosened the ropes around Chelsea's ankles, then undid the ropes around her wrists completely.
Chelsea let Raven take her hand. Let her squeeze it -- *liked* her squeezing it. Her hands were soft but strong. Reassuring.
"Wait," said Chelsea, peering into the woman's deep blue eyes. "I've seen you before--"
"I don't think so."
"Yeah, I have... Oh, you were in the shop! I remember -- you bought like the most expensive bouquet we sell!"
Raven shrugged. "Okay, you caught me. I like pretty flowers. Is that a crime?"
"I guess not. Kidnapping, on the other hand..."
"Hey, listen to me," said Raven. "It's going to be okay. Your shop, I mean."
Chelsea looked down at the floor. "I... I don't think it is."
"What if something were to... *happen* to Flower Pirate?"
Chelsea's eyes went wide. "No! No, I don't want you blowing them up or anything. It's just business."
Raven gritted her teeth, but nodded. "Okay, well what if you moved into a different market. Exotic plants, or something."
"I can't afford exotic plants. I can only source local."
"What if--"
The sound of an explosion in the corridor cut through Raven's words. She fumbled for her mask and hooked it over her face.
But it was too late.
Jaxson was in the room, and the cuffs were around Raven's wrists in a matter of seconds.
As Raven was dragged away, Chelsea caught the beak glance back at her.
She smiled meekly in response.
~~~~~
Three weeks passed since Raven had kidnapped Chelsea, and today was a new day for her. A new beginning, even. Because today, she was going to walk into her shop for the final time.
She was going to close it.
She couldn't compete with 'Flower Pirate' any longer, and she'd made up her mind, even if her heart was breaking because of it.
Her keys fell onto the floor as the shop door swung open. "Oh my God," she said as she stared at what should have been a near empty shop.
Hundreds of plants -- rare and exotic and *expensive* -- lined every inch of the shop floor. All in little baskets or pots. "Oh my God," she repeated.
She didn't find out until later, that Raven had escaped her prison two days prior. But the little origami bird sitting on her desk, told her all she needed to know.
That day turned into the busiest day of her professional career, as word of the incredible plants, that snapped and kissed and smelt like heaven, spread through the town, and then into the neighbouring towns.
A week later, a woman with pale skin and auburn hair walked into her store.
The two women soon left together, to visit the quaint little coffee shop opposite.
---
/r/nickofnight
| I was really, very glad for the full face Venetian mask that covered my face, the intricate gold and purple paint on the white base expertly hiding my blushing cheeks. I don't know why I always end up grabbing the same guy as a hostage, but that's just how it seems to go. I knew his first name, Daniel, and he liked to talk. A lot. At first, when I had started my career as a super villain, I had grabbed Daniel as a hostage in a bank hold up (Don't look at me like that, so you have any idea how expensive it is to be a super villain when you're just starting out?) he was taller than me and bigger but he hadn't tried to get away or stop me.
When the local hero had shown up, after thirty minutes of waiting and me cleaning out most of the vault, I was getting ready to leave before the lazy bum could try to catch me. I turned to the then nameless hostage and asked him why he hadn't struggled. He had given me a smile, full of perfect teeth, and said in a deep (panty melting) voice, "You're boobs are comfy." My eye twitched and I'd pulled a taser out of my utility belt and tazed him. He dropped like a barrel of bricks and I took off before anyone could stop me.
~~~~~~~
It has gone on like this for about three years now. Sometimes I'd get caught, but usually the local coalition of heroes took to long to catch me. It probably helped that I tended to play my games two states away from my home town.
Anyway, every time I ended up grabbing Daniel I learned something new. He was a 27, two years older than me; he swam on the weekends at the local YMCA; he had a kid with his ex-girlfriend; the kid was six and a girl who liked my mask. Daniel liked spelunking and in the mountains.
I think it was around the time he told me that he liked spelunking that I started crushing on him. I still tazed him whenever he decided to be a pervert though. He liked to point out that, if I was going to wear a skin tight body suit and grab at people then I deserved to grab a mostly harmless pervert. I didn't taze him for that one but I did leave him hanging upside down for the fire department to find and cut down.
~~~~~~
Today I wasn't even sure how Daniel managed to be the one I grabbed. He was all the way across the jewelry store when I reached for the nearest person, a small blonde female dressed in red jeans and a black top. One moment my hand was closing around the blonde's upper arm and the next I was dragging Daniel in front of me as the cops showed up. I have no idea why these guys even bothered to show up when they never do anything other than block the obvious exits and corral the civilians.
I glared at Daniel as I tossed him behind a display case and I started breaking the case and collecting the pretties in the case that I wanted. Daniel sat with his back to the case and looked up at me. "How's your kid?" I asked as I worked.
"Annie is fine, she got an A plus on her spelling test this week. Your suggestion of making it a game for her really helped." He ran a hand through his dark hair.
I nodded absentmindedly and pulled out a magnifier to look over some of the rocks. "Good to hear she is doing so well," I mumbled.
"How about you? How's life?" He blinked lovely hazel eyes at me. Today they were more green than brown.
I glanced at him and shrugged. "Not too bad. Can't really complain. Works good obviously and my latest projects are coming along well." I was glad he couldn't see me blushing. I hadn't blushed this much since I'd gone to a middle school dance with my best friend and accidentally kissed him.
"Cool, cool. How's your dog?" He smoothed out his hunter green polo shirt.
I tossed a diamond ring in a white gold setting into my catch bag. "Mutt's fine. Trying to breed some of the females in the neighborhood and failing, but otherwise good." My voice was muffled by my mask and he couldn't hear the way my voice fluctuated a bit.
"Ever thought about getting him fixed?"
I looked down at Daniel and quirked an eyebrow at him even though he couldn't see it. "Did you mom ever consider having you fixed?"
He laughed and got up to follow me to the next case. "I'm sure she did, especially after I knocked Jill up," he said.
I rolled my eyes at him and broke the next case. "Whatever."
He snorted. "That is a lame come back and you know it."
"Its not a come back. I'm just trying to get my work done and get out." It was true. I'd gotten two cases, I didn't know when the local hero brigade would turn up to stop me.
He huffed dramatically and leaned against the broken case as I picked through it. "So, any ideas on how to help Annie with her math?"
I glared at him for a moment before returning to picking out my new shiny jewelry. "Do I look like a personal tutor for your six year old?"
He shrugged, a dark cloud shrouding his face. "You have a more active roll in her life than her mother does. Humor me."
I grunted and moved on to the next case. "Does she like any video games or something?"
He thought about it. "She likes pokemon and just dance."
I thought for a moment. "Equate dance move to math problems. Or use the pokemon candies for the same thing."
He nodded. "Thanks."
I blushed again and nodded. The sirens had stopped and they were playing the super heroes' theme song. I sighed. Time to go.
I turned to Daniel and smiled under my mask. "Good luck!" I shouted before I activated the cloaking device attached to me suit. Essentially i had vanished to all but the keenest of animal senses. With everyone curious and looking for me, I was able to slip away in the chaos and get to a train station.
I went to the ladies room and changed out of my super villain outfit and into a clean set of blue jeans, a red v-neck top, and jogging shoes. My costume and everything else was stowed away in my tote bag. I got on a train home and began plotting my next game, half hoping Daniel wouldn't be there and half eagerly hoping he was.
~~~~~~~~
AN: I actually used to use Pokemon and video games to help with my math and science work in high school. | 2018-05-23T00:39:26 | 2018-05-22T23:03:41 | 1,288 | 404 |
[WP] Lifespan is determined by a word count. You're given millions of words, but once you run out you're dead. You are a mob hitman known as "The Interrogator, who specializes in "making people talk". You come across a mark that has one word left. | I pressed my gun into his back as we walked across the green carpet. No one noticed, no one even looked up from their wine. Of course, my guy could always shout for help, but that would quite defeat the purpose. Overhead, the speakers were playing what must have been some pretty expensive music- it had singing in it. Of course the more exclusive restaurants would be playing rap, but no one could call this place exclusive. Speeches and toasts were for the rich, who could afford the extra words and a better class of restaurant. This place was mostly quiet.
We were seated and handed our menus, but I didn't even look at mine. We wouldn't be here long enough for all of that. I ordered a beer from the touchscreen display and then ordered a random entree for my friend. I didn't bother to glance at the dietary restrictions on his public profile- he wouldn't be eating anything tonight. The waiter came and brought my beer. He slammed it down on the table in front of me with a disapproving look before walking off. This was definitely more of a wine place than a beer place, but I wasn't here for the atmosphere.
It wouldn't be long now, a man with a tray was approaching. First he sets down the bread sticks. The same bread sticks this place has been serving for centuries. Next, the giant bowl of salad. He looks towards me, and I indicate my friend, who was looking smug only a minute before, but looks as though a thought has just occurred to him. He breaks out in a cold sweat as the server produces a cheese grater and a lump of Parmesan. With a friendly smile the waiter says "Say when" and starts grinding.
edit- a word. | So I told the rat one thing: "Listen. You got one word left before you drop, so I'm just gonna make it a yes or no question. Did you piss your pants and give the 40 grand to Mr. Hip Replacement over there, or did he just straight up rob it off you?"
"That's not a yes or no que-," he said, and exploded into a bunch of red pulp and bone fragments. | 2016-10-11T00:18:07 | 2016-10-10T23:24:00 | 14 | 10 |
[WP] Marriage vows are now a legal contract. The line "until death do you part" now has to be taken literally. As a result, divorcing couples must now fight to the death. | "I want a divorce" I managed to say to the woman behind the kiosk. I cringed at how timid my voice sounded. Her face went pale and her jaw dropped for a second. She slowly looked me over like a butcher examining an ox.
"Are you sure?" She asked arching an eyebrow at me.
I swallowed hard, "yes." I said feeling proud at the solidity of that word. This is the last time he will touch me. The last time he will have control. Yes, I want to kill him, of course I'm sure. And if I die, which I likely will, I'll know I finally made a stand. I'll die courageous and strong.
She shrugged and handed me the paperwork. "Your battle will be set for one week from today then." She slammed a stamp down on the court order and I exhaled.
As I walked back to the shelter I thought of my life, something that had never amounted to much. No job, no, schooling, I was your typical highschool pregnancy story. I had never believed in myself, but my son was a force of good in my miserable existence. My husband wasn't his father and I knew from the start he was a bad man, a dangerous person. I was so lost then that I had found that attractive, exciting even. It didn't take long after our wedding for the violence to start. Our honeymoon in fact, he told me I was fat. Not a huge thing, but it cut me deep. He knew what my insecurities were and over the next two years twisted me inside using those insecurities to gain control. My family tried to help but I was weak, I let him hurt me, I believed I deserved it after all. The last straw came when he beat my son. I never cared much what he did to me when he went on one of his benders, but my son. He had no right to touch my son. That confrontation shook me to the core. "You can't touch him!" I'd screamed standing in front of the bedroom door. He laughed at me "what are you going to do about it?"
My heart had pounded so hard at that question I thought it might give up on me. "I'm going to leave!" I screamed back reaching deep to find even a shred of bravery that might be left. he'd ploughed right through me and I laid in a heap on the floor listening to my sons screams. Yes. I wanted to kill him.
The week sped by faster than I expected and suddenly there we were. standing across from each other in the arena. Looking up I saw my family, mother, father, sisters, brother and my son. A tear slipped down my cheek as I stared into his eyes. Eyes that had experienced too much pain too young.
"I'm so sorry" I whispered to him, knowing he couldn't hear me.
The bell sounded and a grabbed the sword in front of me and ran. Turning a corner of the maze in the middle of the arena I stopped and strained my ears. His boots crunched in the dirt and I spun around. There he was in all his wretched splendor, smiling at me. Mocking me.
"Well come on princess, show me what you've got" he said.
My blood boiled and let out a scream as I charged. Pain pierced my fury like a hot flash. I looked down, shock written all over my face. I had a knife in my belly. And he smirked. Sucking in air trying to battle the pain I dug deep. He deserved to die! I swung the sword with everything I had. each motion sending pain screaming through my stomach. He dodged. I lunged at him again. he stepped aside. "You'll never be good enough" he whispered.
"Screw you!" I yelled. I brought the back of the sword down on his knee. An old weakness of his. Eyes wide he dropped to the ground. kneeling in front of me stunned, I grinned. This is it! I raised my sword and he kicked his leg out at me. The knife slipped further into my stomach at the impact. Blood ran out of my mouth to discolor the dirt beneath my feet.
Stumbling back I looked down at him. he struggled to stand but his knee was broken. "You've never deserved the life you had. I will free myself from you today if its the last thing I do" I spat at him as I stalked forward again. I swung the sword and he raised his arm to block it. I felt the blade bite into his flesh. felt the bone break under the pressure. And savored the scream of pain he let out.
"Stop" he begged.
How satisfying it felt to hear him be the one to finally beg me for mercy. With one last swing I plunged the sword deep into his chest and let it go. He fell to the ground with a hard thud.
Someone said something in the distance and my hand reaches for the knife in my stomach. Is this what dying feels like? I staggered backwards and landed in the dirt. Trying to breath I heaved at the air. And my vision went dark. I died with courage I thought as my mind floated away from my body.
With a start I jumped out of my bed, shaking and drenched in sweat. I looked back across the bed to see my husband, lying there, smirking at me. "Bad dream?" He asked. | When the law was passed i thought my day would never come, i loved her too much to feel that we'd ever have to divorce. I can't believe it has come to this, how did i go from having loved her so much to now consider killing her? I don't know but i can't stand this pain anymore. I feel like the weight of the world is upon me when i try to decide to file a divorce. I know our relationship is over, it can't go on like this, but i can't deny i still love her. How can they ask this of me?
I wonder if she feels the same. Guess i'll never know for sure, i'm too affraid of the answer she might give me. If it comes to it, i don't know if i can kill her, i don't have it in me. Maybe it's the time to visit a lawyer.
Fuck, the lawyer said there's no way out. From the way they wrote the law, i must kill her. I. Why should we take this vows literally? I mean, come on. It's just too much for me to handle at the moment, i need a drink.
I talked to Shauna today, she was angrier than normal. She stormed off, but when her head was a bit cooler we managed to talk for a bit. She promised to try to change, i want to believe her i really do. But i have no other choice, i need to give her this chance, i can't or rather won't kill her.
Things were really good after our fight last week, but things are way heavier then normal. Shauna's going out late at night, maybe she thinks i can't hear her. I just hope she isn't seeing Michael again.
It's been two weeks now, i'm pretty sure she's having an affair. I tried going to her ex's house to see if she was going there but i got no luck, it wasn't Michael, he even has a wife of his own now. But i must confront her, i'll do it tomorrow.
It took me three days to build up the courage, but i finally asked if she was having an affair. I cried for almost an hour, i even sprained my wrist from punching the wall in our kitchen. This gave me finally the emotional strength i needed to file for a divorce, our hearing is next monday.
Shauna cried in front of the judge, i had to hold back my tears. But when he asked me if i really wanted a divorce i said yes. The feeling is indescribable, i hadn't felt like this in months. The fight will be 1 year from now.
Our schedule in the arena is in 8 months, i can't die. I won't die. I've met the most wonderful women of my life. I need to kill Shauna. I must find that strength again.
Time flies, haven't talked to you in a while. Life was good in the last few months. Amanda's so nice and kind i lost track of time. Our schedule is due in 2 weeks, i need to this for Amanda.
Shauna came by today, we talked for hours. I don't know if i can do this anymore, i need to find a way out of this.
EUREKA! I think i found it! I need to talk to Shauna before the schedule tomorrow.
Shauna agreed, it was really expensive though. This might be the last time we talk, old friend.
I... I... I can't even describe what i'm feeling. Our plan was to Shauna give me a heart attack, wait for me to be declared dead and the medical team to revive me. It worked, i'm glad it worked. And it was considered legal too! But what i'm feeling isn't happiness, I mean, I'm glad my plan worked, but I feel sadness as I realized it was over. Because as my eyes closed, I couldn't feel that death was bringing us apart, in a way, it brought us closer then we ever were. My life was at her hands, and i trusted her, even after all that we went through. I could see it in her eyes that she felt the same. That we were now divorced, but our love, even in death, would not die. | 2015-11-18T10:39:01 | 2015-11-18T08:35:47 | 50 | 20 |
[WP] Your kingdom lies in ruins and the demons are at the gate. You hold the sacred relic that has been passed down for countless generations to your lips and speak a prayer in a long forgotten language: "Orbital Strike on my location" | "_Instruction not followed. Instruction requires command authorization and safety protocol override. Please consult documentation for more information._"
The response from the Relic took me by surprise. I had never heard it speak before, and though the words were said in the common tongue, their meaning eluded me. As the shouts from the last defenders at the curtain wall washed over me, I cast about anxiously for some clue.
"Documentation," it had said. Wasn't that another word for writing? My mind settled upon the Sacred Text of Av'tar. It was rumored to be connected to the Relic in some way. I hurried to the Shrine of the Ancients and quickly located the Text, in its reliquary. With no time to open the container properly, I drew my sword and used the blade to lever open the lid. The air inside rushed out, bringing with it the smell of dust and rain. It was not how I expected five thousand year-old air to smell.
Tossing such thoughts aside, I retrieved the Text. The cover was made of some strange metal; pliable as fresh beech bark, but smooth as a polished mirror. The words emblazoned on the cover were written in a hand alien to my modern eyes and worn by the centuries of use before its consignment to the Shrine, but the shapes of letters were partially recognizable, even as the words they spelled assaulted my mind with confusion.
>AV'TAR
>Opcroticn INanu;l
I quickly opened the tome and began reading. The writing inside was of the same hand, but far less worn and easier to read, if no less difficult to understand. Words I had never heard or seen written before flowed past my eyes, a number punctuating each line. The numbers seemed to increase, but not by any pattern I could discern.
Halfway through the second page, a line caught my eye.
>Command Authorization Procedure - 87.
I stared for a moment. Was this the answer I sought? Even here in the shrine, the roars of the demons, the cries of the defenders and, most disturbingly, the screams of the fallen penetrated, edging me on to move faster, before all was lost.
Eventually, I noticed a number at the bottom of the page. 2. I flipped back and checked the same spot to find a 1. Excited, I flipped forward and checked the next page. 3. Did these numbers indicate the order of the pages? It seemed silly, as the tome was bound and the leafs could not be taken out of order without destroying it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I flipped several pages forward, and was rewarded with a dense block of text and what appeared to be a drawing of the relic. I was right. The first few pages were a list of topics, with the page on which each topic could be found listed. I quickly thumbed forward to the page with an 87 at the bottom.
I read quickly but carefully. It instructed me to place my thumb upon one of the jewels and state my name and "rank" (which I took to mean my titles) slowly and clearly, followed by the words "initiate command authorization."
I clasped the Relic to my chest, thumb pressed to the flat, black jewel and spoke. "I am Tradis of House Ellemere, Second of his Name, King of the Neuflorian people and Lord Commander of the Clonal Marns. Initiate command authorization."
"_Command authorization accepted._"
The voice from the relic was strangely calm, almost inhuman. I intoned the sacred prayer of last resort again. "Orbital strike on my location."
"_Instruction not followed. Instruction requires safety protocol overrides. Strategic assistance systems advise deployment of Automated Quick Reaction Force. Analysis: Automated Quick Reaction Force is currently at 57% strength, with all casualties attributed to maintenance failures. Strategic assessment of military engagements at command site indicates 25% of Automated Quick Reaction Force would be sufficient to repel enemy forces, and 40% of Automated Quick Reaction Force would be sufficient to destroy remaining enemy positions within one thousand kilometers of command site. Would you like to deploy the Automated Quick Reaction Force?_"
^(Continued in comments) | ‘By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.’
It was an old proverb from a millennia ago, perhaps more. Something else which would be lost to the demon hoard which had broken down the gates to my city and were currently slaughtering everyone in sight.
We had tried to push them back, but it was all for naught. My armies were broken, my forces scattered, and my family slain.
I had managed to kill the archdemon which came for me, but the waves of them which were now entering the city meant certain death for all those left here.
The high-bishop came to me, the holy relic perfectly balanced on a cushion of the finest weaving. A curious object, jet black with stick poking out of the top and knobbly bits on one side. It was said that whomever depress the side and utter the holy words ‘orbital strike on my location’ unto it, shall call down the wrath of the gods and cleanse the land.
I stood on my balcony, overlooking my now burning city. No longer would I smell the freshly baked bread, or hear the sound of children in the street, or tuck my sons and daughters into bed at night. Now, it was all in the hands of the gods.
I raised the holy relic to my lips after a blessing and a smattering of holy water. My hand gripped it comfortably, as if I had been intended to wield it, and depressed the side.
“Orbital strike on my location.”
I released the side and pondered the meaning of the words while I waited. None knew their meaning, and few wished to study it for fear of invoking their wrath. As I was looking skyward for the gods to smite the land, I was shocked the the relic spoke back to me.
“Acknowledged strike request. Orbital railgun bravo-niner zeroing at transmission source, break.”
The voice was mechanical, not entirely human. Perhaps the gods were mechanised beings? Regardless, I would find out soon. Legend says that when the god’s fire struck, it cleansed all life it touched.
The being spoke again, however like before, I did not understand the language in which it spoke: “Final protective fire strike approved, log made to databank. Fire control countdown initiated.”
I cast my gaze skyward again, not even flinching as a barbed arrow narrowly missed my head.
“Shot. Impact in 57 seconds.”
As I was gazing up, I noticed a tiny white flash against the pale blue sky. It faded for a moment, but then came back and remained.
I kept watching this white light, it growing bigger and brighter as time progressed. The holy relic garbled something again, but I paid it no heed.
The high-bishop fell to his knees in prayer behind me, it was now impossible not to be aware of the presence of the god’s wrath.
I knew the end was near, moments away even, but for me it could not come soon enough. | 2021-11-08T09:26:22 | 2021-11-08T09:04:32 | 65 | 34 |
[WP]Youve always had the ability to form things by thinking about it. Need a knife? Boom knife in hand. Need a pencil? Boom, now youre ready to write. Simple shapes are easy, but complex things require knowing how every part works. You've spent years studying human anatomy. Now you're ready to do it | "Don't worry Stacey, you have one of the best doctor in the world working on you" Tracey assured her twin, giving me a subtle side glance "when you wake up, you'll probably be healthier than even me!"
Probably an exaggeration but still Stacey let out a giggle. It had been tough few years for all of us, but today was the day. I wasn't entirely sure if I was ready myself but time was running out and if it wasn't now, Stacey would not live to see another year.
"We're going to begin shortly" I informed my daughter with a practiced even tone. Tracey nodded, said her last goodbye, gave her sister's pale hand one final pat, and walked out to the waiting room. She didn't acknowledge me in any meaningful way just like I told her.
I gave my beautiful Stacey a look and held back what I wanted to say and kept my voice as even as I could before we began to prepare her.
It had taken years of research and training, not just in human anatomy but computer security and government administration, as well as performing multiple felonies to finally get to this point. I'd created a false identity for myself, so I could get into the operating room and be the one to personally extract the heart from it's container. As a family member I would not have been allowed to assist in the surgery otherwise. Of course I couldn't just show up at the hospital with a fresh heart for transplant. There'd be questions. Who did it belong to? Where did it come from? I'd altered the medical history of a stranger, Halle Cook, a miracle and a tragedy. An accident that left only one of her organs viable for donation and it was the heart my daughter needed, except that my daughter had the rarest blood type in the world. Tracey was probably the only other person in the country who would be a match of the same age. If Halle had any other surviving organs, by changing the blood type on her record I could have killed another recipient. I'd have done whatever it took, but I am glad it did not come to that; Stacey would never forgive me.
The moment was here. There was no entrancing effect or flashy lights when I used my power. I envision what I want and when I think I have imagined it well enough it appears out of nothing with little fanfare. I reached into the box focused with every inch of my being. A heart appeared in my hand. What I would do with the Halle's original heart I wasn't sure. I had some nebulous plan to dispose of it or get it back into storage registered under a different name for another patient if I had the chance, but I didn't really care. What was important was Stacey got the heart she needed.
-----
The operation was a success I wanted to rush out and tell Tracey but knew that would raise suspicions and followed procedure. I was feeling years of pent up stress wash away with relief. That was until I heard a commotion approaching. I looked over and saw my daughter being wheeled past, blood dripping from her mouth. All I caught were the words "Internal bleeding" I could feel my world draining away. Had something gone wrong during the operation? Or did I make a mistake? I would have sworn the heart I made was a perfect match. I rushed after them into the operating room. They already had a ultrasound set up trying to identify the problem. Every physician in the room was baffled. Her heart was missing. There were no signs of external trauma. It was just gone. I looked down at my daughter but something seemed off. It wasn't Stacey. It was Tracey.
The knives, the pencils, the counterfeit money, the thousands of practice organs and Stacey's heart; I didn't create them...I took them. | I've always been alone.
I lost my parents in a tragic fire and my living relatives were all but gone from old age. As a schizophrenic I was outcasted from social circles due those episodes since foster care can't seem to provide enough pills. Yet, I was blessed with these powers, the voices in my head seem to dictate how to form them and how to bring it to life. More and more experimenting led me to conclude that I could build simple things by glancing at schematics, however things like motors required me to learn the individual parts.
I knew I could make a living off this and so I spent my highschool years making simple pencils and eventually plain basic t-shirts and selling them off at tourist spots and malls. Months go by and I spent money on treatment and medicine hoping to get a friend or fit in as they say.
I didn't get better the episodes were getting horrendous and the foster kids seemed to start bullying me even more now, eventually due to the abuse I was moved away.
In this new home I was treated a little bit better but due to my history I was seperated from the other kids. My loneliness seemed to fuel my episodes eventually the voices would make me manifest random objects and force me into out-of-body experiences. This freaked out both the children and the caretakers and led to a sort of house arrest.
They however never cut off the internet. With the huge amount of free time I was given I was determined to build her. I named her Eve in my head and invested into my schmatics. I learned how the heart muscles functioned, how the nerves conducted electricity, and how blood vessels transported nurtients. I then went on to build her immune system and went indepth adding genes that would help in strenghting her and making her "perfect." Its been four years since that dream and now I'm going to attempt it.
I built her she was perfect in every way. She had flowing white hair reaching her shoulders, jade white skin and rosy lips. Her bosum was a perfect match for her streamline-like build. The mkst stunning feature were her eyes. I wanted her eyes to reflect the night sky and so it did, hundreds of star like dots and celestial bodies revolved around her pupils making her the center of the world and mine. Her long delicate legs seemed like a fairy straight out the picture books. Yet she said nothing. I knew down in my heart she wouldn't fill the void but I dearly hoped it was possible.
I knew why. What was the answer to consciousness. | 2018-10-22T00:45:33 | 2018-10-21T18:49:35 | 29 | 12 |
[WP] You find an antique gold compass with the words ”Moral Compass”. It will automatically point to the most morally good person within a 100 meter radius. You are on jury one day and when you look at the compass, it points to the convicted serial killer. | Everyone came out of the jury's chamber for the sentencing. Guilty, of course. We didn't have much of a choice. The evidence mounting against him was overwhelming. I was actually annoyed I had had to take off time today to be jury for such a simple case.
Jay Kleiner was a murderer of the lowest order. A murderer of children. And of policemen. And of doctors. The golden trifecta. I was disgusted just watching him, seeming so smug and cheerful. So why was my compass saying that he was the the most decent human being in the room?
The compass had been a gift from my grandmother. She had given it to me just before she was executed. She had said, "Isaac, this compass shows who the best person around you. Always make sure to only associate with those people."
That hadn't been hard, since it almost always pointed at me. Occasionally it moved, and I would try to find out who it was. But in recent years, it had only pointed at me. I don't know if that made me feel good or nervous. And now it was pointing at a murderer. Why? Was it broken?
The judge passed down the verdict. "For these crimes, you are sentenced to death by lethal injection. The sentence is to be carried out immediately. May God have mercy on your soul."
Kleiner didn't flinch. He had to have known this was coming. He was guilty. They were all guilty. He just smirked and said, "My soul doesn't need any mercy."
A hooded man entered with the needle. But first, a Forgiver came forward, as per Protocol VI. He placed the camera in front of Kleiner and said loudly, "Do you, Jay Kleiner, regret your crime?"
"No."
"Then you are forgive-What?"
Someone behind me gasped. If you didn't play this part right then they would take it out on your family. But he just kept right on talking to the crowd. Maybe he just didn't care anymore. He didn't bother talking to the camera. Everyone knew the footage would later be edited for the good of the people. He spoke to us. My compass went wild.
"I have not committed a crime. I have nothing to apologise for. Those people had it coming. Would have been nice if you allowed me to defend myself **before** I was pronounced guilty, though."
A hushed whisper started spreading through the courtroom. The judge shouted, "Silence, Mr. Kleiner!"
His grin wouldn't let up. "Or what, you'll hold me in contempt? I'm not going to apologise for destroying your sick euthanization den, and slaughtering your mad scientists. How long did you think people would stand idly by? Forever? Not gonna happen."
Pandemonium erupted. The judge pounded his gavel to no avail, then shouted, "Carry out the execution! Now!" He seemed panicked. He probably was. Even a judge could wake up one night with a knock on the door, and never be seen again.
Kleiner was grabbed by two burly soldiers. He didn't resist. He just kept talking, raising his voice to a shout, to be heard above the hubbub. "I did not kill those children! I weep for the ones I wasn't able to save! I weep because you killed them! But most of them got away. They're with my people right now! And you'll never find them. Not until the fall of this tyrannical empire! Down with the Gravian Empire! Up with the revolutionnnnnn........"
The cry died on his lips. The executioner had just injected him. 500 milligrams of Hydrogen Cyanide was already coursing through his body. But somehow he found the strength to utter one last sentence. "Someone will always ^do ^the ^right ^thiiing."
No more. He was silent. The compass slowly turned back around to point at me. And I finally knew what that meant.
I joined the revolution the very next day. | It's broken. It must be . It was the only logical explanation. Occam's Razor and all that. I mean, I'm not entirely sure *why* it broke, but it did. And it couldn't have picked a worse time to break either. I mean, during the trial of a serial killer.. really? It was right about so much before. It helped me pick a babysitter. And it helped me climb my way up the corporate ladder. It helped me find a wife. You'd be surprised how much a literal "moral compass" could be. But now it was pointing directly at the seriel killer. Was I really supposed to believe that SHE was the most morally good person in the room? Was it lying? Could it lie? No, it would never lie to me. Maybe I banged it? I don't remember banging it. I'm usually so careful with it. Well, they say nothing lasts forever. I guess I might as well throw it out when I get out of here. Should probably destroy it first actually. Wouldn't want it messing with anyone else would I? But could I destroy it? I had come to rely on it so much. Too much? Well ,no more than anyone else would were they in my shoes. But it wasn't anyone else's, was it. It was mine. I used it well I think. I mean better than most people would. I could have gotten into a lot more trouble with it now that I think about it. That's probably why it chose me to find it. It knew I *deserved* it. I mean who else could have handled to much responsibility? Surely, not Karen. Not Dave, either that bastard. Never should have told either of them about it. They didn't deserve to know. No, I was the only one who deserved it. But, why then, did it never point to me? Not once. Maybe it didn't work that way. Never pointed to it's rightful owner or something like that. Yeah, that must be it. But it's pointing right at that killer. All the evidence said she was guilty. But she couldn't be. It told me she wasn't. It was never wrong. It couldn't be broken. The evidence must be broken. The lawyers, the cops, the judge. Broken. All broken. Everything broken except it and I. We weren't broken. We were never broken. It was perfect. We were perfect. And she was innocent. Not perfect but innocent.
"Innocent!," I yelled. "Not...Not Perfect of course. But Innocent!"
They all looked at me. Stared. They didn't believe me. They didn't believe it. Broken, them. Not us. them. She was innocent. It was mine. Mine. Deserve it. Innocent, it said. I was innocent. | 2019-09-10T20:18:20 | 2019-09-10T19:28:10 | 3,464 | 25 |
[WP] You wake up in a tub of ice with a two insicions on your back and a note that reads "Why don't you have any kidneys? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?" | *Who knows,* the man thought to himself as he crumpled the note.
He settled into the tub. The man felt cozy and settled, like a bourbon with dinner. Someone tried to make a pass on him, but wound up with a truth unsettling enough for two crooks; There were no kidneys.
*Fancy that.* Explained some things. Alcohol was a non-issue for his non-existent kidneys. That was a plus.
On the other hand, his liver may be in twice as much trouble. The alarm calmed down after realizing that his liver didn't exist either.
*Bastard could have told me that much too if he was gonna play doctor on me.* Broken ice clacked across the surface where his legs shifted. A numb hand placed over his chest, feeling for a pulse.
His ribs did rise with a breath. But nothing more.
*Like I'm known for having a heart anyway.* The man cracked a smile. He lifted himself from the tub to find his slacks. Then his magnum. Then the rest. He would never be caught dead without pants, so this was as normal as a day in Topeka could be.
The window cracked open to the clinks and roars of Kansas' capital. And out there in the clinks and roars was a bastard who thought he could cut him up and get away with it.
He leaned over the window ledge to stare across the clunky sunrise, taking it all in. Committing the glass, bricks and sky to memory. Every morning could be his last.
*And each morning* he thought in dark whimsy, *I'm glad I asked for a brain.*
A spin on his heel and a hat placed on his head, the man put the dawn behind him to march down the day in sinister, rehearsed choreography. There was a past to cover up.
And the Scarecrow would not have loose chains in his town.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
**Note:** Having time to read is a luxury. The fact you spend that time reading responses to this subreddit means a lot to several here. /u/Volgin has generously given me my first gold noting the Dark Tower style and asking I write more in 2016. Thank you. I will. To those who've asked to see more, I made a subreddit [r/Galokot](https://www.reddit.com/r/galokot) for that specific purpose. I'm new to writing as of this month and have more prompts to respond to before I feel confident continuing the story to your expectations. So there won't be a continuation here. But we will return to Topeka when I'm ready. Thank you for your responses, and I'll see you in the New Year. | I stood up and found my shirt on a table a few feet away. I used it to dry myself off before throwing it away. Screw the disguise, they already know I'm not quite human.
I unfolded the note to read the rest of it.
"Why don't you have kidney? What the fuck are you? Where are your organs? How are you alive? Why can't we kill you?"
I then noticed the healed scar tissue across my throat. Those will disappear in a few days, assuming I decide to keep this form. I probably won't.
Doesn't matter what form I take now if I even take a human one. A dragon would be an excellent form to take down this organ harvesting operation. Perhaps a horse? I was essentially a Trojan Horse in the shape of a person. That would be entertaining.
Unsurprisingly, the door was locked. As I pushed on the door I heard footsteps and yelling. I heard guns being loaded and mentions of explosives.
Hah, they'll have to try harder than that. I shapeshifted to the form of a rhino as I ran at the door. I barreled through it as bullets flew towards me. The chunks of lead were pushed out by flesh generated to fill in the holes. The henchmen were thrown against the wall hard enough to break bones.
"Run!" one of them yelled, "it really is him! It's the superhero!"
I chuckled to myself internally. This is gonna be a fun bust. | 2015-12-30T22:41:52 | 2015-12-30T21:53:52 | 2,123 | 120 |
[WP] You won't hold heroes hostages to torture them. You won't throw a hero against a wall once you have them by the neck. You sure won't start monologuing if you have a hero at gunpoint. You're the deadliest villain in history. A villian without an ego. | Finally, I had him. The Shade was right. He had explained the whole plan to me; it was as though I could see for the first time. I could see how my arch-nemesis, the Orange Cowl, couldn’t resist following the breadcumbs Shade had suggested. How he would put the pieces together. How he would be wary of the trap, but be wary of the wrong one. How the blackened dart wouldn’t reflect any light, giving the Cowl no chance to jump out of its way.
Of course, I had to change Shade's deadly poison for a knockout dose. Now I had the Orange Cowl hanging upside-down over the piranha tank. He was just coming to. Finally! He would know that **I** was the one to bring him down. All through his agonizing dismemberment, he would understand, at long last, just what his actions all those years ago had truly cost him. He would pay for his sins, and know just how much he was paying.
“Wh… wha?” he spluttered. Good, he was waking up. Cape hanging down behind him, he must have felt the blood rush to his head, because he quickly reached up towards his feet.
“Oh, you won’t find them that easy to untie,” I drawled. “Titanium alloy chains, welded together. No locks to pick this time, my little Cowl!”
He seemed to still be coming to his senses. “Nuclear Scorpion,” he hissed. “I should have known. You *madman*!”
How dare he? After all he had done. After all *I* had done. “Mad, am I?” I cried. “Was it madness when I carefully chose the street names for each child's body? Was it madness when I calculated that you would figure out the pattern after the fifth! Was it madness when I…”
But I couldn't finish. An explosion near to me drown me out, and then Orange Cowl was still. A bright red spot blossomed on the center of his forehead.
I hadn’t heard Shade open the warehouse door behind me. I hadn’t heard him walk up beside me. I hadn’t heard a thing until he pulled the trigger.
Shade. The one who had given me victory now stole it from my clutches. “How could you!” I cried, spinning around on him. “I finally had him in my power! He was at *my* mercy, and finally knew that _I_ had triumphed. How... dare... you ...”
My voice dropped as shade swung the gun back up. Its barrel stared at my left eye, inches away. With my right, I saw him turn his head and regard me quizzically, as though I was a puzzle, or a strange kind of insect he had never before seen.
His voice was quiet, as velvety as ever. “*You* triumphed?” He sounded curious more than anything else. “I wonder why you ever thought you were more than a convenient tool?”
And for the second time, he pulled the trigger. | I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, just as I'm sure you are to make mine. After all, I'm well known as one of the great aesthetes of history. And very rich, very influential. Everyone who is anyone owes quite a bit to me. What most don't know when they first meet me is just exactly who I am. You see, I've been around a long, long time, and destroyed more adversaries than you will ever know. Of course, I do get credit for that sometimes, but it's usually for things I have little to do with. Oh, the absurd things people blame me for! Not that I care one way or the other. Sure, I admit I have quite an ego. I'm notorious for it. But not around my villainy. I'm in it for the win, not the glory, and I usually win. My greatest conquests are unknown, like dirty little rackets with your average corrupt street cop, or robbing poor travellers on back roads in third world countries. Ah, those years in India picking off innocents, what good times! Now, I won't be falsely humble: There are certainly a few adventures of mine you might know of. The Kennedy assassination. The rise of the the Third Reich, and also the Soviet Union. I even managed to have a small hand in the crucifixion of Jesus. Oh, yes! I know I seem young and vigorous, but the truth is I'm very old. So if we meet in person, please show me some courtesy and maybe have a bit of sympathy for this old villain. That's not a request, but a demand, even a threat: Use all your well-learned politesse, or I will lay your soul to waste. But never mind that. As I was saying: I'm pleased to meet you. I hope you guessed my name. | 2018-10-18T17:28:48 | 2018-10-18T15:49:16 | 61 | 13 |
[WP] Youre a wizard in the Imperial Army. Most wizards are very ritualistic in their tactics and that is very highly respected but doesn’t give many victories. So you decided to ignore all the long chanting and nonsense and simply immediately kill your opponents with your spells instead. | “Where’s that apprentice?!” Master War Wizard Alejandro shouted.
Yes. That was his title and he got very upset if you didn’t use it. “I am right here. Sir. But I am not an apprentice.”
I may not be a highly decorated Master War Wizard like Alejandro but I was still an imperial wizard, with slightly less honors. Ok way less honors. So I couldn’t chant a fireball into existence. Or dance an ice storm large enough to cover a town. That didn’t make me worse. I blame my teachers and their methods. But hey. I was still here, I just had to babysit the real war wizards. That was still a job right? A boring one. But a job.
Alejandro eyed me. “Don’t correct me, whatever your name is.”
“Baxter.” I responded.
“What?” He seemed confused.
“My name is Baxter.”
He waved his hand. “Whatever. I’m almost ready to begin the siege. Did you pack the food? And the water? And my entertainment?”
I sighed deeply. “How long do you expect this take?”
“A correctly executed siege spell will take all morning if not all day!” He seemed affronted st my assumption he could do it quicker.
I opened my mouth.
“Apprentices don’t speak unless spoken too.” He snapped.
“I’m not an.”
“Silence!” He roared and I sighed again. He pointed through the trees. “The keep us that way.”
I like my job. I like my job. I do. I’m not a pack animal. I’m a respected imperial wizard. If I tell myself this enough today. Maybe I’ll believe it when I go to bed.
We stopped within view of the keep walls. Outside of arrow range, unless they happened to have someone skilled with a long bow. But that wasn’t my problem.
Alejandro ate a small meal before he started, then stood. Faced the keep wall, held out his arms in the classic sun praising pose and started chanting. And chanting and chanting. I yawned. He changed to mountain pose. I started munching on his food. He wouldn’t notice.
Three hours later, and nothing had changed, except Alejandro drank some water and ate some more food. Then resumed his chanting.
“Oh for Fury sake!” I shouted as the sun started to go down. I stomped forward, pushed Alejandro to the side and pointed at the keep. “Ruin.” I said very clearly. And the keep wall exploded.
Alejandro started at me in horror. “That’s not possible!”
“Apparently it is. Master War Wizard.”
“You must be demon!” He held up a warding hand.
“No I’m just bored. Maybe if all you wind bags got right to the point we wouldn’t still be in this thousand year war!”
His eyebrows raised in shock. “There is no honor in pointing!”
“Prove it!”
“You’re commanding officer will hear of this!” He threatened.
“Good! Maybe I’ll get a raise. And you know what. Pack your own stuff back. I quit.” | The Ritual of Destruction - The most common ritual taught to even the lowliest combat mages of the Imperial Army, performing it allows one to cast a plethora of offensive spells, from roasting a soldier in full body plate armor with a temperature rivaling the Sun to trapping them in a block of ice with a flash freeze, from siphoning all of their blood out and leaving them a dry and decaying husk to turning them into slime as they melt into the mud below. It is the key building block upon which any spell intended to harm another is built and has been for centuries, but what if it could be circumvented? Mages are often the first to be targeted in battle due to their inherent destructive power, having to stand in one spot while performing the Ritual is... inconvenient.
From my research I've figured out 3 key elements of the Ritual -
1. The prerequisite for spells isn't the Ritual itself, rather it is what I will describe as "Death Energy" due to a lack of better nomenclature. This Energy can be obtained by manipulating and consuming the souls of the departed which are ever present around us, whether from perished humans or slaughtered animals.
2. Death Energy can be accumulated and used either through the ritual or through a specifically designed and imbued tool, the only true physical requirement is that such a tool have a pointed tip, as to be able to concentrate the Energy in the proper direction.
3. Death Energy from recently slain creatures is far more plentiful than the native Energy in the air, this results in what I will describe as an Avalanche effect during ongoing battles as both friend and foe continue to feed more Energy into the area, allowing for progressively more powerful and complex spells.
My experiments so far are proving very successful, I have already informed the Emperor of my findings and He is most pleased. Our latest skirmish resulted in an overwhelming victory with only one loss to the enemy's 278. All warfare will be changed forever. Soon. | 2020-08-15T07:06:38 | 2020-08-15T06:24:33 | 28 | 14 |
[WP] Your military experiment accidentally tears a portal open to Hell. However, instead of the demon hordes pouring through, you discover that they are frantically trying to close the portal from their side. | "By the Satan's tits, THEY'RE BACK!"
It was pandemonium in the Demon World. Barons ran amok, trying to calm the populace, but it was futile. It hasn't been 20 years since the portal opened and THAT came out, slaughtering and massacaring countless of their bretherens. Everyone remembered him. Everyone feared him.
The last time they had such a situation, it was the opposite. Everyone was impatient, almost giddy with excitement, of the blood and slaughter their armies will wreak on the puny humans. They were ecstatic, but not for long.
A small human in green suit filled with fire and fury from the heavens ripped and tore apart everything he saw. No matter how many demons he faced, no matter how big they were, no matter how tough they were built - they all died.
"Duke, there are signs of those human trying to enter this dimension. We must do something before that...that THING wakes up." Minions knelt and begged their Lord. "We can't survive another genocide."
The Duke of hell felt a cold sweat running his back. He remembered watching a little, green human jumping up and down, leaping every which where to kill his father, the previous Duke. He was unrestrained by gravity, his guns never stopped blazing until every demon was crushed underneath his boots.
There was also some some unholy music - full of screaming, screeching humans whose voices added to the symphony of metallic sounds - that added to the grotesque nature of his murders. It seemed to add the frenzy of his attacks.
Had he not hidden that day, he'd be dead. Just like his Father. The trauma came rushing back and the Duke felt nauseated.
"Assemble the demons. We will block-"
Just then a loud bang interrupted the hall. The sound was faint but it was a familiar song - the unholy union of screaming humans and the instrument they call 'electric guitar'.
The little human in green was back. | The last thing one expects to hear from an honest to goodness hell-demon, screaming at you from the other side of a portal to hell, in a voice that gives you diarrhea for a week, is
> “SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!”
Even less expected is the same being screamed by hundreds if not thousands of demons.
Turns out that demons are effected by their own voices the same as we are, and that our portal opened into their toilets, and they are as embarrassed about shitting themselves as we are.
Well, it’s been a month, we’ve sent the majority of Earth’s Imodium to hell, and so far the hell demons have only eaten four people. | 2022-09-12T07:27:10 | 2022-09-12T07:27:00 | 1,203 | 92 |
[WP] You fail to realize that your favorite restaurant is actually a front. One day you decide to try that one weird entree that you keep overhearing others order. | Alfredo’s Legitimate Italian Cuisine was my go to spot when I was craving some real authentic Italian food. I mean, seriously, their bolognese sauce was to die for. Perfectly seasoned, made with quality wine, minced beef, and extra virgin olive oil imported right from Italy itself.
The atmosphere was what really made the dining experience. The kitchen staff were all Italian, for one thing, a real family run business. The chef was always drunk, the waiters barely spoke English, and the dining area was always dimly lit by candlelight. It’s what I imagined a real Italian dining experience must be like.
I was glad to see that candle light as I waked in, too. It was the end of a long work week, and now I just wanted to relax with a bowl of pasta and some relaxing ambiance. I waved to the hostess and she waved back as I took my usual seat in a corner booth. The wooden seating wasn’t that great, but I didn’t mind.
“Ah, you’re back.” My waiter said, walking up to the table. “What’ll it be?”
What indeed? Ravioli would hit he spot, but so would a bowl of spaghetti... though, there was something else I’d been meaning to try. There was a dish, it wasn’t on the menu, but I’d heard some of the other regulars order it. I never bothered asking about it, I didn’t want to seem like a dummy. I mean, everyone seemed to know about it but me. Tonight was the night, though. “I’ll have He Saturday night special.”
The waiter raised an eyebrow at me. “You will?”
“Yes.” I said confidently.
“Yes?” He glanced around briefly. “I see, and how spicy?”
“Oh, mild is fine by me.” I said. I didn’t want to give myself indigestion.
“Gotcha.” He made a note on his order pad. “Anything else?”
I wondered briefly if I would even like this mystery dish, whatever it was, “an order of garlic bread, too.” I said. If I didn’t like it, I could always fill up on bread.
He nodded, and went back into the kitchen.
I waited, excited to try whatever mystery dish seemed to be the favorite of all the locals. Something really, extra authentic, I bet.
The waiter returned in short order, with a big brown paper bag. He set it on the table, and walked away before I could ask him what was up. I hadn’t ordered to go... maybe that was what the Saturday night special was, a meal to go?
He hadn’t offered me a bill, though. That was strange. The prices here were very reasonable but they weren’t that good. I took my bag, the scent of roasted garlic wafting out, and walked up to the front. I was going to ask the hostess what was up, but before I could say a word she just nodded at me. “Have a good night, sir.”
“I, uh, thank you.” I said. I realized what was going on here... they were letting me have it for free! They must have appreciated my regular business, maybe they liked me as a customer as much as I liked them. I did always leave a good tip. “Have a good night.” I said cheerfully.
I went back to my car, and opened the bag. There was my garlic bread, and an aluminum to go tray under it. I took it out, and removed the lid... there was no food in it. Just an envelope, and a gun.
“Ooooh.” I said out loud to myself, smacking my forehead. “Saturday night special, I get it.” I laughed. No wonder it wasn’t on the menu. Boy, was this embarrassing.
In any case, I checked that the gun was loaded, and put the address into my phone’s GPS. It was fortunate that I was a serial killer, and Alfredo’s made amazing garlic bread. | "Jack, I'll have the pub burger extra rare, no bacon. I'm on a diet."
"Yes sir" Replies the waitress. I believe her name is Elizabeth. She is always my favourite server. I found O'Flannigan's Pub when I first moved to the city and it’s been my local watering hole and eatery since I first ate here five years ago. I always found it peculiar how everybody calls every one "Jack". I started noticing this a few months back. I figured that it was just an Irish thing, maybe after JFK. After I noticed this, I discovered a few more interesting things about the pub.
The people were in LOVE with the burgers. Now, I’m an on again, off again vegetarian but these people always ordered burgers. But they came with very specific directions. I would hear, “Jack, I’ll have the pub burger, lettuce on the side” or “Jack, I’ll have a pub burger, ketchup on the bottom bun”. I can understand being pernickety on food choice, but that in particular? It was time I got to the bottom of it. After all, I am a loyal customer! And I enjoy having a little adventure in my life.
“Here you go sir, just as you ordered” Elizabeth replied.
Next to my order, loaded up with bacon and buns soaked with cow juice, was a note. It read: “Eat three bites, exit out the back, the car is waiting”.
I have a bad feeling about this, but I am too damned curious to find out what’s going on here.
After I eat my three bites I exit out the back. Elizabeth didn’t seem too phased by me not paying. She just nodded knowingly. I really wish I knew what about.
In the alleyway a black car is waiting for me. The door is open and I can’t see through it. A voice calls me inside.
“So… I like your guts. You must really want to prove yourself to the family” a gruff Irish voice tells me. “We haven’t had a hit like this in… a generation at least”.
“I… what?” I stammer.
“Don’t play dumb. I heard your message clear. So what is your plan? Bomb the station? Or do you have a particular cop you want to take care of?”
I think I am in way over my head. I just wanted the special.
“Now you do this job, and you’re in with the family. You got that, Jack? We are watching you. Now get out and don’t come back until you finish the job.”
I am kicked out of the car as it speeds off. I look up into the night sky and wonder how I got into this mess. There’s no way I can join the Irish mob. Besides, I’m Italian! | 2018-03-30T09:54:09 | 2018-03-30T09:08:30 | 53 | 30 |
[WP] “1 day on this planet is 15 years on earth” said the ships AI. “I was told to inform you of this after the completion of your 12 day mission on the surface.” | I stopped dead and took a breath in and steadied myself from the emotions that hit like the meteor that ended the era of dinosaurs.
"This is new information not provided to me before now in any previous documentation on this mission, correct?" I inquired. "Correct, Mission Control specifically did not want you to know until now." The ships AI relayed.
"Audio message back to mission control. I wish to have words." I said.
"Recording."
"Mission Control, or whomever is now calling the shots, I am the human on the mission to what I knew as PX-7535. I have recently been informed of the relative temporal difference between there and here. I am requesting a response sent back within one hour my time frame with the following.
1) updated cost of my labor this mission adjusted from agreement stated to modern currency standards and reflecting my 200 years of service. Hopefully previous and my original administration already accounted for this with Investments and Escrow or reasonable equal
2) No words will make up for this massive ethical misstep legal or not. Do not apologize for them, likely they're already dead.
3) Updated procedures for better communication. And if mission is to continue.
I will be stopping work immediately until answer is provided and agreed to these new terms. If I do not hear back in 2 hours I will start work dismantling and destroying everything on this rock that I can until I am given what I want.
If mission is to not continue; immediately want out. Immediate stop and pickup.
If mission is to not continue and I am not getting my 3 points met. Well. Get here sooner than later and be ready to put a dog down. Reference to 20th Century film Old Yeller."
I wave my hand to send. "Sent, are you sure about this?"
"Yes, cause I will burn this place to the ground for what they did and I have a fusion reactor that if I overload it will ruin this rock for a thousands of these years and effectively forever for them. Time is my weapon since they now used it as a weapon against me. I have nothing to lose." | Congealed blood tastes like death and rust. When it pumps through your veins, it tastes like hope and perseverance.
It feels like I'm a walking husk now. Everyone I knew is gone, and the human race is no more - except for me. Blood still struggles to flow through my veins and keep me alive.
I have been informed that one hundred and eighty years have passed since I arrived. The human race destroyed itself after year seventy. All of this was for naught.
The only thing left to do is drift through the void, hoping to find some semblance of life, but I found nothing on the planet. We thought there was evidence of intelligent life, but it was just meaningless formations.
I am alone in this cold and merciless universe.
The computer agrees. | 2022-09-15T12:12:38 | 2022-09-15T11:53:15 | 83 | 35 |
[WP] "Every 5000 years, the Dark Lord comes to destroy the world, and only you, the Chosen One can stop him." -said the priest. "So, do I need to get a magic sword from the Lady of the Lake?" - I asked "No, just press this button please, everything else has already been taken care of" | Never in all my life would I have been able to guess what the button could controlled. It had to be modern I assumed. It was a big, red, rubber button. It looked like an emergency stop button you would see on a piece of standard machinery. I expected to hear mechanical noises or targeting systems spring to life when I pressed.
What it actually started was without a doubt the wackiest, zaniest, most over the top Rube-Goldberg machine that was ever conceived by man. It was so massive it spread across continents
Turns out the button just released a spring, launching a steel marble that set off a chain of events that forever changed the world.
The machine used some of mankind's most notable pieces of architecture, engineering, and art. You thought the Ancient Roman aqueducts were a means of providing water to the city? Nope. Just a track for a ridiculous Indiana Jones style death ball. The Leaning Tower of Pisa? Turns out the lean was intentional, so that it would fall in *just* the right spot, launching a cleverly concealed boulder halfway across Europe. All in all it took 17 hours for the machine to finish. It was mind boggling. Especially since the whole thing ended with the "Dark Lord", which looked like some sort of weird lion-goat thing with wings, being shot with WW1 era rifle as he crawled out of his cave. Damn thing died instantly.
The priest explained to me that their cult had been building this for centuries. What he didn't or couldn't explain, is why I couldn't just wait there with the rifle and shoot it myself. Or why I had to be the one to press the button at all. In fact he seemed kinda mad that I was questioning the machine instead of praising it, which I guess kinda makes sense it actually worked. But he held up his end of the bargain, and gave me enough money to take my wife out to Hawaii for our anniversary, and I was never in any danger so I guess I came out on top in the end. | I reach out slowly, completely fixated on the button. It’s red with concentric grooves. Seems overly simple to stop someone called the Dark Lord. It doesn’t seem like it would be able to tell the difference between my finger or anyone else’s.
I stop and pull my hand back. “What are you doing?” the priest demanded, “ there isn’t much time!”
“Look, man, I don’t even know you and your telling me I’m some sort of chosen one meant to stop all sorts of evil and destruction? This button doesn’t even seem like it could tell me from anyone else.”
The priest began to laugh maniacally. “I thought this time I could get you to cause the end of the world. But no matter. There’s always next time.”
He leapt forward and slammed his fist into the button... | 2020-11-09T12:15:45 | 2020-11-09T11:12:56 | 126 | 80 |
[WP] In most of the galaxy wars are often just shows of strength with fighting as a last resort. As such weapons are designed to be elaborate and flashy. Turns out humans, whose weapons are built with efficiency in mind, have a different understanding of war. | The enemy had entered the galactic stage a mere fifty years ago. They had reached out blindly into the stars, professing a wish for friendship and commercial trade. The galaxy, quite surprised by the lack of militancy or isolationism displayed by the fledgling race, unanimously accepted.
Then came Kothlar 7.
The Jatharin had declared war merely as a matter of protocol - someone would have done it eventually, and the Jatharin were the enemy's closest neighbors, so it just made sense for them to be the ones to bring the newcomers fully into galactic society.
It was a massacre.
Gornag Kalistra hadn't received his title because of pure ceremony - a fact that he'd leveraged to ensure that HE was the one sent to meet the enemy. The other Gornagi of the Jatharin Senate were too scared to handle this meeting properly; after all, none of them had ever seen *real* combat.
"Seen. combat" An odd turn of phrase, that, but it was how the humans spoke. Kalistra was the only one of his kind who'd actually viewed the historical documentation that had inspired the current galactic law so many thousands of years ago. Only a fool would have gone to meet a *new* species whilst being ignorant of his *own* species' history, and Kalistra was no fool.
What he'd seen had been ***horrifying***. Weapons designed not to impress or to wound, but to destroy. No thought was put into what those implements of war looked like - only what things they could do to the enemy and how efficiently they could be made to do those things. The galaxy had come a long way in their understanding of war.
The humans didn't want a fight - they had stated that very emphatically in their message, though the pictures of the remains of the Third Jatharin fleet had the Senate convinced otherwise. They had been attacked, they said. *War* had been declared, so they had responded in kind - they truly hadn't expected the Jatharin to have put weapons such as they had on their ships and not also have shields capable of withstanding a similar force; they were just as appalled at what had happened as the Jatharin. They'd even done their best to provide medical treatment for the few survivors before sending them home with the message.
They'd had no way to have known that starships hadn't employed shields in centuries. The galaxy's idea of war was far different from what it used to be. If the Jatharin could become this way, thought Kalistra, then surely the humans could learn this as well. It would just take the right words.
Vice Fleet Admiral Taylor Bradley Johnson and Vice Fleet Admiral Taylor Josephine Brandon were waiting for him at the specified rendezvous point. Even human names were strange - how could beings of different sexes have the same name? Adjusting his uniform, he gestured for his communications officer to establish a visual link with the human vessel.
"Greetings," said VFA Taylor (or was it Taylor?). "We humbly apologize for the misunderstanding at Kothlar 7. Our sincere condolences to the families of all involved."
"Thank you," said Kalistra smoothly. "I fear the misunderstanding runs far deeper than either species has fully realized." He gestured again to his communications officer. "I have brought with me a complete recorded history of my people so we may correct this unfortunate problem. If I may bring to your attention the moments just after Time Indices 27-2, 39-5, and 104-1, you will find that our species' understanding of certain words may be drastically different."
The VFAs paused while the bridge crew of the human vessel watched the indicated portions, then the other Taylor spoke. "I see that our understandings of the word 'war' are indeed quite different. This is most distressing, Gornag Kalistra. If only we had known - this could have been avoided."
Kalistra approximated a human nod as best he could. "I would be honored if you would accompany me to the Senate so we can rectify this misunderstanding. It is clear that if we were to engage in a war as your people understand it that our fleets are hopelessly outmatched."
"We gratefully accept. A peaceful and prosperous future is all we wish for. And Kalistra?" Taylor asked quickly before the connection could be closed.
"Yes?"
"For future reference, the human concept your people were trying to invoke is 'I challenge you to a duel.'" | "How many of them, Jennings?"
"Twenty-four on sensors now, Captain."
Captain Randolph of the United Earth Exploration Ship *Everest* scratched his chin. This was not how his colony protection detail was supposed to start. He and his light cruiser had been ordered to the new colony of Armana after sensor stations had picked up multiple anomalies near the colony. A task force was being assembled to provide permanent security, but as the closest ship to the colony, *Everest* had arrived first and was on her own.
"Ensign Lao, what can you tell me about these ships?"
"Not much, sir," the sensor operator replied. "We're estimating 6 battleship-class vessels, 12 frigate-class, and 6 heavy cruiser-class enemies."
"Weapons?"
"From what we can tell, sir, hull-mounted laser weapons and tubes for either missiles or torpedoes of some kind."
Randolph scratched his chin again. The *Everest* was very well armed for a light cruiser, sporting 60 5-pounder railguns on each side of the ship. It also boasted 84 *Hatchet* class missile tubes. But since humans tend to over-prepare, the ship was also fitted with one hull-mounted Mass Cannon, which would fire a 500 pound tungsten slug at several thousand miles-per-hour.
"Have the ships responded to our hails, Jennings?"
"Captain!" Lao interjected before Jennings could respond. "Sensors picking up energy spikes! Laser weapons charging!"
"All hands battle stations! And brace for impact! This is not a drill!"
The entire bridge crew could see the view screen as it was enveloped by a blinding flash of red light. The ship shuddered slightly.
"Damage report!"
"Direct hit, Captain! No hull breaches, no significant damage detected!"
Now Captain Randolph was pissed. Those alien bastards *dared* to shoot at them?
"All guns, prepare to fire! Broadside guns, focus on the smaller ships! Mass Cannon, focus fire on the battleships! Ready missiles!"
In less than 20 seconds, all weapon stations had signaled to the bridge that they were ready.
"Mass Cannon, FIRE!"
*Everest* shuddered as the 500 pound slug left the barrel of the cannon. The bridge waited for impact, watching the view screen, scarcely anyone even breathing. The slug impacted the lead battleship, ripping through its armor and continuing through the massive ship.
"Direct hit, Captain! Ripped through her bow to stern!"
"All stations, fire at will!"
Captain Randolph watched the screens as volley after volley of high-velocity death rained down on the enemy force. Within minutes the shells had shredded 20 of the 24 alien vessels, destroying most of them outright. The final few that were still operational turned and jumped to light speed, obviously eager to get away from the destruction the *Everest* had thrown at them.
"No more contacts, Captain! Sensing life signs in 2 enemy ships."
"Lieutenant Jennings, have Colonel Puller take 2 of his battalions of Marines and board those ships. Pacify whatever is on board and bring survivors back to the *Everest*. Ensign Lao, contact the Admiralty Board on Earth."
"What should I tell them, Captain?" Lao asked.
"Tell them we have first contact and first hostilities. I'll take the conversation in my quarters." | 2020-03-21T11:02:38 | 2020-03-21T10:25:30 | 155 | 52 |
[WP] write a short horror story that seems completely normal and non scary until the very last sentence at which point it becomes absolutely terrifying. | Max stood by the barn entrance, trying to hold back his tears. A tough thing for a child to see, I thought. But he's got to learn about it somehow.
“Please just tell me, Dad,” Max said finally. “Is Buddy going to be okay?”
I looked down at the ground, at Buddy whimpering quietly in the grass. His collar was askew, and I could see by his glassy eyes that he was in trouble.
“Why didn’t you keep him on a leash like you promised?” I said. “You know how he likes to run around.”
Max looked away. “I just wanted to play with him.”
“It’s not enough that you forget to feed him?” I said. “You neglect him for days at a time, and I have to put his bowl out? You promised to take care of him, remember?”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Max said, tearing up again. “I do take care of him, I promise. I just let him off the leash for a second, and he ran right onto the road.”
“Anyway,” I said. “I don’t think he’ll make it.”
I walked to the back of the barn and pulled the shotgun off the wall.
“Look,” I said, walking around to get myself in position. “I can get you another one from Aunt Francine. She told me she just got a new batch. But you have to be more careful next time.”
“I promise,” Max said. “I’ll keep the next one on a leash and do everything you say. I swear.”
“Good,” I said, and pointed the shotgun at the back of Buddy’s head. “You can keep his shoes if you like.” | It was a blissful sunny day. what a beautiful day to be driving. I had the roof down, the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. It's a shame the journey is so short. I then pulled up at the Dentist for my 7am Root canal.
(not everything has to involve murder or loss of life! some things are far more terrifying) | 2017-05-31T08:55:19 | 2017-05-31T08:14:20 | 138 | 18 |
[WP] What humans classify as habitable and hospitable are death worlds by the rest of the galaxy's standards | R'Wer looked through the weirdest and wonderful planets in the Galactic Archive. This vast interstellar library only passed through once every generation, and for only a single week, this was they're only chance to find out what was out there. The Archive had everything the nano explorer bots had found, and placed into this resource for all to use, when it was near. Part of their original directive it seemed, to restrict things, to what they could monitor.
They floated to another spiral stack, grabbed the handrail and reorientated themself. The Archive, like most of the galaxy existed in zero gravity. Most species rose in dense nebulae, and most empires came from the distances between stars. R'Wer wanted to know about those stars though. Species live in there. Species lived in placed the gravity was so strong R'wer couldn't move.
The Scroll they were holding lit up, a hologram displayed something so alien that R'wer recoiled. A being with two appendages that pointed always in the same direction, a middle torso, then another two appendages, and a head on top of it. They didn't adapt their shape to the situation, they couldn't just re-orientate organs as the situation dictated. They had bilateral symmetry from their head downward. They only had a single pair of eyes facing in a one direction.
Humans. From the planet Earth. A gravitational strength of 9.8 meters per second. "At that level they couldn't even leave their gravity well." R'Wer said changing to the next page.
Yet apparently they had. By strapping unstable chemicals and igniting them they had in fact left their gravity well. Not by much. However the nano explorers encountered machines made by them outside of the stars gravity well. They managed to escape a stars death grip on them, in a futile effort to escape.
R'wer had a thought "Explorer, show me how these humans get water." R'wers species evolved in an environment with it floating in the void, being pushed by forces and stars in perfect counter alignment. Those forces turned the ice in to water, so how did the humans get theirs?
The answer was clear though. They were lucky. Earth was between the water being boiled off, and frozen forever. They sat on a knife edge between two oblivions.
"The wonders of that world." R'war said to themself. "Constrained by the pull of a planet and a star in equal measure."
They swiped on the scroll. "Explorer, show me where most humans live." A holo appeared R'war thought was flat and wrong. R'wer has expected a colony like his own, maybe a latticed hive, or some sort of geometric shape. They swiped the image and it turned sideways, and saw shining spires stretching. The human settlement seemed to be reaching skyward made of metal and glass. It seemed to be longing to escape. Maybe they felt gravity crushing them. Maybe this caused them to need to escape.
R'wer swiped with the wrong arm, accidentally zooming in. It was a simulation of the planet, with actions happening maths could predict, and the image ended up beside the settlement. On some sort of yellow area beside water. The settlement behind them, they looked out at the contracted blue water and blue sky. They saw water rushing in towards the camera. Then it went back out. It had tides? Tidal ripples were accepted and protected against, but they were simple pressure waves to be dealt with. This was like shaking a container and watching liquid not quite spilling out. It was relaxing.
"Explorer, what is this area?" A document about Sand appeared in the holo. The 'sea' caused the sand over millennia. This world wore away at problems for so long it could make beauty and overcome an obstacle. They looked at articles on erosion. The grand canyon. Anything could be overcome by hitting the problem long enough? Gravity wore at them so much they built up to defeat it. Escaping in it they used chemical reactions. They threw machines into the void.
Gravitational thinking. Maybe a paper on that could be R'wer's contribution to the Archive. | *- October 4th, 2035 -*
&#x200B;
Mulgorg twiddled his six thumbs as he watched the screen, "Damned humans. There they are losing billions more lives due to their poor choices of planet migration. When will they learn?!"
Sitting beside him was his brother Tulgath, always waiting for an opportunity to criticize Mulgorg's opinions.
"We've watched them for nearly eight million years, Mulgorg. Perhaps it is you that needs to learn. Their patterns will never change. Why do you care, anyway?"
"I don't know, Tul. Why can't we just tell them which planets to move to? Think of how many lives we could save."
"We've tried that, brother," Tulgath replied. "Every time we make an attempt to contact them, their media twists everything up and convinces their people that we don't even exist. They don't want our help. There's no use in trying."
Mulgorg sighed, shutting off his monitor. "Yeah, I suppose.. I just wish there was something we could do."
&#x200B;
*- December 14th, 2036 -*
&#x200B;
Outside his window, Mulgorg watched his planet as it continued to fade away into nothing but a distant star. He had decided to take it upon himself to explain to the humans that they were making a mistake. They needed to move to a planet with different properties; something sustainable.
&#x200B;
Several days after his departure, Mulgorg was nearly ready to land on Earth; the sixth planet the humans have inhabited so far. Things were not going well there for them. The planet was overheating. Entire countries were on fire while others were halfway under water. That was why Mulgorg was there; to help them find a planet that wasn't susceptible to such issues.
As he made his approach into Earths atmosphere, he decided he would take a few trips around the planet to observe how bad the damage really was. He needed to know how serious the issue was; how much time he had to convince them to migrate again.
While he flew around Earth, he began to notice something he couldn't quite see from his monitor back home.
*"What..? No. It can't be,"* he thought. *"This is impossible!"*
He began hastily running calculations from his ship's computer systems. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was no way any species could be capable of such atrocities..
As Mulgorg finished running the data, still struggling to wrap his mind around the unbelievable nature of the human race, he realized his brother was right all along.
*"It's.. it's their fault,"* Mulgorg thought. *"This planet has the same properties as my home. It's not the planets they've chosen that cause death.. it's the humans themselves. Every planet they've inhabited.. they have managed to kill it."*
\---
Thank you for reading! Feel free to stop by r/PipSkweex for more stories! <3 | 2020-01-15T00:44:09 | 2020-01-15T00:41:42 | 28 | 19 |
[WP] You die and find yourself in hell, where apparently everyone spends time to negate their sins before they go to heaven. The guy in front of you, who cheated on his wife, gets 145 years. Feeling like you led a fairly average and peaceful life, you’re not worried. You get 186,292 years. | "Table for one, sir."
I reclined on the wooden chair and sipped at the complimentary cup of lava-heated water. The water, its temperature just nice to heat up my icy skin, spilled out as I set the cup down on the table. Dribbles of water remained on the plastic file beside the cup.
"A hundred and eighty-six thousand, huh." I breathed out lightly. I tweaked my nose and picked the file up again, opening it to reveal a rather impressive stack of paper. The paper was written in a language my presiding Overseer had called Archean, but the only thing that mattered on the piece of paper was an absurd Arabian number written on it.
186,292.
My presiding overseer had slapped himself silly when I stepped forward, muttering about pig-like teammates and 'too heavy to carry'. His eyeballs had also popped out of his sockets, prompting his assistants to help him pick them back up. His stately demeanor lost, it didn't take him long to dismiss me without a word. There was something distinctly unfair about my lack of information...but it wasn't prudent for me to bring that up.
I shook my head and sipped from the cup again. I didn't do any damning act in my lifetime. No murders, no kidnapping, nothing. I sighed again, this time audibly.
"What's the matter, signeur?"A voice piped up from my right. I turned, and a masked man came into view. His mask was coloured a white so pure that it stung my eyes to look at it. The only hint towards his emotions was his exposed mouth, which was straight...for now.
"Nothing much, friend," I replied. I picked up the paper and stared at it forlornly. "Just an absurdly long sentence."
He clapped my back lightly. "Don't fret it, son. At least you're better off than him." He pointed at a man, who was walking with an incredibly awkward gaunt, wobbling from left to right.
"What happened to him? I mean, is this even supposed to happen?" I looked at the man and shivered inwardly. His face was filled with a despair that I couldn't fathom, so deep it was.
"He's scum. In life, he was a serial rapist-cum-murderer. His sentence in the afterlife was to experience the pain, shame and fear felt by his victims a hundred-fold." The masked man spat on the floor. "It also happened that he was a homophobe to the extreme, so the powers that be decided to let him experience a...brand new world."
He smiled darkly. "Using a metal rod 20 centimetres wide."
"Well, at least we know what caused his punishment," I complained grumpily, a current of pity hidden inside. "My text was in something called Archean, and my overseer didn't even read out what I was being incarcerated for."
The masked man's upper lip curled. "Well, I happen to know Archean. Do you mind if I read it for you?"
I waved my hand lightly. "Sure, go ahead."
I chucked the file lightly at him and the man deftly caught it. I picked up the cup and sipped at it again. It was rather unfair...I lived a life filled with kindness and dignity. Why subject me to this? My eyes flitted onto the masked man, who was actually frozen in place.
"Mister?" I asked.
The mask fell off, and before I could register his appearance, he shot to his feet and saluted. "Your humble servant offers greetings, Lord Administrator! Please pardon my previous rudeness!"
The file fell off his lap, landing with a plop that resounded throughout the silent tavern. I swallowed and picked up the file.
As I examined the words again, the scribbles shuddered and rearranged themselves.
On it was written in eye-catching letters: "Administrator of the 9th domain, term to last for 186,292 years. Effective immediately."
"Balls."
As the curse escaped my lips, the number increased by one. | "There is... one thing you can do to decrease your sentence," The creature said from behind the counter. Jeff couldn't decide if it was a demon or an angel, but either way looking at it made his eyes burn with glowing letters, after images shaking across his head and itching across the folds of his spirit.
"Alright! What is it?"
The creature stared at him for a long moment. "Jury Duty."
Jeff hesitated and stared up at the beast, watching the trailing golden letters smoothly replace any scrape of the creature that he could see. His brain simply refused to process the imagine beyond a frame at a time.
"Jury Duty?" Jeff asked.
"Jury duty," the creature replied, simply. "There are always trials to be had, from people who think they can reduce their sentence through the courts."
"Is that an option?"
The beast looked down at the list Jeff had given them, played long bone fingers against the wood, then shook their head. "Not at all for you, I'm afraid."
Jeff curled his fingers into fists and dug the nails into his skin. He had places to go. He had things to see.
He had people to chase after. He wasn't going to just let some bureaucratic bullshit lock him out of that.
He had a son to chase after.
"What does being a juror get me?"
"Out of hell," the beast said. "Instantly. You move up to purgatory, where you'll reside over every ambiguous case from now until your much reduced sentence. The tower only rises, you understand."
Jeff blinked. "The tower?"
"The pillar of heaven. It is an eternal stair case filled with levels, each holding the sinful back." The beast jerked a finger down at the ground. "You're stuck at the ground level, and by our calculations, a wretch like you will take 200 thousand years to get to the top without short cuts. It's how hell works. Sin is heavy."
Jeff was no wretch.
"And what," Jeff said, gritting his teeth. "Does it take to be a juror?"
The golden script receded around the beast's maw as they smiled, baring teeth made out of thousands of skulls, curled up on top of one another, descending into infinitesimal small points.
"Why," The beast said, long tendril fingers briefly revealed before the censorship of gold took effect. "All you need to do is survive a little bit of a hellish ordeal."
On some level, Jeff knew it was stupid to take a deal with something he found in hell.
On the other hand, he knew full well that he couldn't wait long enough for the hike to the top.
"Tell me what to do."
----
For more like this, go here! https://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/
guys on my subreddit made me write another part. https://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/comments/9j4p8t/pillars_of_heaven_part_2/ | 2018-09-26T07:07:43 | 2018-09-26T06:04:04 | 895 | 181 |
[WP] You are the host of a popular children's show. You are live on air when you, and the rest of the country, have just received news that nuclear weapons have been deployed against your nation and can't be stopped. There are only minutes left. | The special emergency siren screaming dirges above the din.
Those who showed up today fish out the rotund whiskey bottle Rick bought as a joke.
The lights bake her face, red dots gazing unflinchingly at Marnie Mime.
Standing eyes closed, having dropped the poster introducing today’s challenge: FAMILY!
She is imagining her chubby rescue mutt named Potato, who has probably huddled inside of a heap of couch pillows. Shaking and squeaking, as he does during thunderstorms, waiting for her to hold him until everything is okay.
Marnie Mime teaches the quieter children how to be confident extroverts. The somewhat-backwards stint wasn’t meant to last multiple episodes, but its “quirky” and “retro” styling revived the silent clown gig again and again.
Much to the agony of the host, standing still now, retreating to her shell like a panicked turtle. She begins to sweat in tiny waterfalls from the backs of her knees into her socks. She does not speak, “recreationally” or at work--her scripts consist of italics.
She plunked too much Italian Creme into her coffee hours before. It bubbles up her throat.
Perspiration drags her careful makeup down her face. Or is she crying?
[All those years, spent in shame over only an introverted nature? Is she crying? Her lifetime of social anxieties versus these fears small creatures can’t even comprehend or conceptualize? Is she crying? An inhale! An exhale. Inhale--how many seconds--]
“--Fuck it,” she chokes out loudly, meeting those neon red beads feet away. “Look...there is no person...I care about, more than YOU. That’s right, YOU! Don’t be afraid. Don’t be ashamed. I love you the way you are--and I’m going to be right here, I’m not going to move. Look. Don’t be afraid. Everything is going to be okay. You are loved. Everything is okay, we’re safe and I’m here--”
In an apartment eight miles away, a dog’s floopy ears perk. He pauses to listen to the unattended television, a familiar voice sifting past his little whines. | I feel my eyes start to water as I feel the gravity of the situation. I know I will never see my family, friends, or lovers again. I turn away from the camera, wipe the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath. Anyone who did not run out of the studio is sobbing, and holding onto one another. I catch my sound producer's teary gaze, and mouth the words, "Let's be happy".
"We only have a little bit of time left kids, but I want to reming everyone to stay happy out there," I say as I force a smile into the camera, and the music starts to play. This time I do not sing along with the children's voice overs.
"And remember," I say as begin to dance around like normal,"as long as you have your friends, and a family that loves you," I pause, and smile as I finish, "you have all the happiness in the world".
| 2014-07-29T13:53:24 | 2014-07-29T13:15:51 | 36 | 12 |
[WP] When you reach the age of 21, you are given a check from the government. The check has been carefully calculated and is worth the minimum amount of money you need for the rest of your life. Your check came in the mail today and it was $7.27
Edit: Wow this blew up better than I thought it would. | I sighed, walking out of the bank with my entire 7.27 in hand. I already told my family, my job, my friends...
These sorts of things were common. A small amount was a signal of a short life to live, but even those were usually at least a hundred bucks! Enough to spend at a bar as I mourned my own death...but what could 7.27 get me?!
As I walked down the street, I considered my options. Food? A drink? I almost considered not spending it. Maybe I could prolong my life by not spending it.
I passed by a foodstall. One taco for 2$.
I looked at the money in my hand, considering...
I sigh. Fuck it, I was dead anyway. No point in delaying the inevitable. One cheap taco here and a 7-11 drink from down the road. There have been worse last meals. "One, please." I tell the vendor.
As my taco is being made, I feel a tug on my pants. I look down and see a kid, covered in mud and torn clothing. "Mister," she says. "Can you help please? I'm lost."
Ah...poor kid. "Do you know a number to call?"
"Yes." She answers. I give her my phone, opening up to the call button.
Doesn't particularly matter if she steals it. I'll be dead soon anyways, so I leave her to it as I take my taco. She's talking on the phone, her voice thin and reedy as she talks, close to tears and sitting on the sidewalk curb as she asks for 'Daddy' to come get her. Apparently she wandered away from her her mother and had been walking for about three hours on her own.
Three hours? Poor kid must be starving... I count the money remaining, and ask for one more taco and water. Lucky me, the entire 7.27 pays for two tacos and a bottle of water, plus tax.
I sit on the curb as she hangs up. Wordlessly, I trade her the phone for the taco, and sit with her as we wait, leaving her the cold water to drink. She sits close, using my larger body for shade. She looks sun burnt as hell, so I don't mind.
The police come roaring up with sirens and everything, and shuffle her away. "You the one who found her?" They ask as she talks to the officer, being led into the car.
"Indeed I was." I say, wiping my hands on a tissue paper. "She gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, the father sends his thanks." The police officer says. "Asking for you to be brought in too."
Me? "Why?" I ask.
"There was a reward offered. The girl was kidnapped by her deranged mother for the last two months, the father is a multi-millionare."
My stomach suddenly drops. "...No shit?"
The officer snorts, half laughing. "No shit. You're going to be a very rich person by the end of the day."
And so. I was. That one taco and phone call ended up profiting me about 700k. Sometimes the psychic cheque works out great in weird ways.
She and I are still friends. We go out for tacos every once in a while, she thinks of me like an older sibling and I'm her regular baby sitter. | I turned 96 years old today, and the doctors tell me I have very little time left. So I think it is time I reveal my greatest secret to the world, and you seem like a nice person...
On this day 75 years ago I recieved "the check". You know the one that the government used to send out on your 21st birthday? Yeah, that's right, the one they stopped when everyone started gaming the system.
Well I have never told anyone before today that mine was for just $7.27. Yup, it's true. I became famous, powerful, and the wealthiest woman to ever live, with my check being for $7.27. As a matter of fact I still carry it with me to this day, see here it is.
Needless to say when I got that check I though my life was over. I was halfway through college with no way to make enough money to get by on my own, and I had heard endless "small check" horror stories of suicides, accidents, and murderers, as everyone had back then. So I was certain this check had to signal the end of my life.
I went to the bank, endorsed the check, and waited in line for my life too end. But then something happened. It just clicked in my head and I decided to go down fighting. All I could think of to do though is to hold onto it, figuring if I didn't cash it I couldn't spend it, and if I didn't spend it I couldn't die. I was cut off from family support per the check rules, but I still had a month left in the dorm. So that is when I stopped attending class and started hustling.
The rest of the story has been told a million times, so I won't bore you. But I will say if it weren't for that check being for just $7.27 I would have never been anything more than a simple accountant. Never let anyone else tell you what your life will be, choose for yourself and make it happen.
Thanks for listening, you are such a sweety. Now how much do I owe you for the muffin? | 2019-04-24T14:52:39 | 2019-04-24T14:02:37 | 335 | 27 |
[WP] What if Superman was raised by Batman? Bruce Wayne still goes about his career as Batman, he still has Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin and Damien. How different does Superman become? | "Master Bruce?" Alfred croaked from behind his arm chair.
"Alfred," he sighed, "please, sit."
"I've walked passed your doorway several times sir," he said gravely, "are you alright?"
Bruce Wayne sat hunched over in his seat, sitting in the light of a raging fireplace within his study in Wayne Manor. He sat gripping his cowl anxiously, the rubber flexing and squishing under his clenched fists. A shadow of graying stubble was coming in through his face under deep dark circles around his eyes.
"It's been ten years, Al" he whispered.
"Since the spaceship struck the property," Alfred nodded, knowingly, "it'll be the boy's birthday in a few days, or rather, his anniversary coming home."
"He's only a couple years younger than Damian," he sighed, "I have Dick out there with me most nights, and he's out there with Jason and Tim when I'm here with the other two boys, but..."
"Sir?" Alfred asked.
"I've put in all the research and resources you could imagine, into raising him," Bruce whispered, "but I often wonder if I did the right thing. Being that boys father. By the time I figured out about lead lining the bat cave it was already too late, he'd figured out a way inside. He's known about all of us for the last two years. I wanted to keep all of this from him until he was at least older than Damian."
Bruce scratched at his stubble coming in and leaned back into his chair, eyes glowing from the red of the fireplace.
"I haven't though, Alfred," Bruce sighed, "he doesn't even know what he is yet. He wants to start training, Damian argues with me daily saying how Talia began training him when he was just two years old. Says Clark will be weak."
"Damian is a child, sir," Alfred said darkly, "I've seen you raise all of those boys, and I've raised you best I could, sir. If not for you just think of what Master Dick would have turned out like, and without his help think of what Master Jason would be like now. Think about Tim. You received Damian late in his life, you're still working to undo the deep-seated damage done by his mother and Ra's Al Ghul. Think of the man he could have become had he stayed long enough to inherit the League of Assassins."
"I think about it daily, Alfred," he sighed, tossing his cowl near his feet.
Alfred eyed the aging man before him, feeling his own age on this chilly night. He stood up and stoked the fire in front of them with a poker before taking a seat beside Bruce again.
"Have you thought further on taking him to the frozen fortress?" asked Alfred.
"Sometimes I often wonder if you could read minds, Al," Bruce smirked, the corners of his mouth curling into grin, "I'll be taking him in a few days. He deserves to know what he is, understand why he's different from us. I just hope it's not too late. I saw him floating the other night, Al. He was asleep, but I could see him floating. His covers billowing in the wind around him from the open window. His power is manifesting more and more. If I don't instill the correct lessons and training into him..."
"Sir," Alfred said gently, leaning forward to rest his knees on his elbows, "you've done beautifully as a father. That boy has had better education than that of all the others. You've had him since he was a baby, longer than the others. You were a father to them all, but more so to Clark. You changed that boy's diapers and so did I - hell, Master Dick did his fair share as well."
"Dick and I have made trips out there to that frozen fortress," whispered Bruce, "Clark's real name, his birth name is Kal-El. He'll learn this soon. I just hope he doesn't hate me for keeping it from him. I just wanted him to have as normal a childhood as we could give him up to this point."
"Worry about Damian," Alfred smirked, "once Clark's training begins."
"I have a feeling I'll have to worry about all of them once his training begins," Bruce said, "he's going to be something else."
Alfred nodded in silence, eyeing Bruce, how worried he was. It wasn't anything like he'd seen in him before, not since Joker went on his last rampage of madness. It'd been five years since then.
"I've already had to move the lead box I sealed in concrete down there," Bruce sighed, "once Clark asked about it Damian won't shut up, he keeps asking what's inside."
"The crystal?" asked Alfred.
"In case he turns out different than we raised him," Bruce nodded, his eyes reflecting orange in the fire, "you know me. I always have a contingency plan." | “Stay,” he tells me, a dark outline wrapped in a red cape, backlit by the refrigerator light. “Please, Lois, stay.”
Another ice-cold droplet drips from the base of his Budweiser longneck and splashes on the floorboard. He already downed seven bottles during the past hour. Five he tossed in the trash can, two shattered against the kitchen ceiling.
Superman.
Alcoholic of Steel.
Just like his father.
I don’t ask Kal-El who he failed to save today. It's better not to, when he's like this. An old woman on her way to the grocery shop? A man driving to work? No, it’s not that. Those deaths bother him less. Or at least not enough to act like this. Unless the man was a father. Or his kid was in the car. I don’t know.
To be honest, some part of me doesn’t care who died today. I’m past that.
Besides, it will be on the news shortly, I’m sure. Accolades to my husband’s heroic deed of the day. A few more people added to the tens of thousands Man of Steel saved already. He’s a hero. People’s hero. Superman.
If only those people knew how much trying to save them kills him.
And me.
He takes a swig. “She was 9 years old. Blue eyes. Ginger pigtails. She was way back on the bus. So terrified, her fear froze her. And when the bridge collapsed. I couldn’t---”
He jerks his head backward and looks up, his blood-stained face beading with sweat. Her blood, if I had to guess. I can imagine him cradling the little lifeless corpse as he lifted her out of the bus wreck surrounded by heaps of bent metal, crushed concrete, fires, and rubble. It’s funny how those scenes of disaster are so easy for me to imagine. It’s easy to picture them when death and sorrow is all he knows and wants to talk about. Just like his father, who taught him how to be like this.
“I couldn’t get to her in time,” Kal-El says, eyes closed. “I should have done something differently.”
Sometimes, I wonder what could have been if Bruce didn’t adopt him. What kind of man Kal-El would have been if he grew up on a corn farm in Nowhere, Kansas? With a loving pie-baking mother and a father who’s not as broken as Bruce is. A father who just wanted him to be a man rather than a tortured vigilante consumed with grief and remorse. A father who wouldn't pin that damn S to his chest. A father who would have been satisfied if his boy were just a regular man. A man who’d grow up to be a simple farmer. Or a truck driver. Heck, or even a journalist, reporting on heroic deeds by other superheroes.
And sometimes I dream of a world in which Kal-El was like that. Simple. Average. Content.
Mine.
In love.
“Please, Lois, just sit down and give me a couple of minutes to get my shit together. And then we’ll talk.”
But he’s not mine, or simple, or content. Just like his father, he’s on perpetual mend, infinitely lost in all the things he cannot change.
And I cannot help him and I won't let myself get dragged into his darkness. Bruce won't waste another life.
I clutch the handle of my suitcase and wipe away my tears. I avoid his gaze as I pass by him, but I whisper, knowing he can hear me. “I love you. I always will.” | 2022-01-21T14:26:03 | 2022-01-21T10:35:43 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] Your gf invited you to meet her parents. You told her that you're a veterinarian. Her father is a computer repairman. In reality, however, you are an assassin. A very good one at that, too. When you see her father, your heart skips a beat. He's your boss. | I carefully stepped out of my car, fixing my short red dress, before dusting off the front. These clothes felt, odd, especially given my usual attire. I'd always felt far more at ease with a gun on my thigh, a knife or two stashed away, but for this outing, those things were useless. I closed the door to my car, making my way to her, Anna, we'd met just after I'd finished a job, thankfully she hadn't looked in the dumpster she'd spotted me in front of. I smiled pleasantly and waved as I made my way over, this was good, being out in the daytime, a casual outing to a beautiful house. White, with soft blue roofing, not too big or small. She'd told me she wanted me to meet her parents, I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried, but being a member of the assassin underworld, I knew not everyone was what they seemed.
"Hey Camilla, I was worried you wouldn't show." She stated, before embracing me in a comforting hug.
I hugged her back, a chuckle escaping my lips. "A chance at meeting the people who made the most gorgeous woman in the world, now who'd wanna miss that?"
She pulled back, leaving a soft peck of a kiss on my forehead. "No, *you're* the most gorgeous woman in the world. C'mon, we'd better get in there." She took my hand, leading me through the house, through the living room, and into the kitchen. I caught a few glimpses of pictures, a large t.v. expensive looking vases with elegant blooms. My pulse quickened, as the face in one of the pictures managed to catch my eye, it wasn't possible, was it? No, I had to be seeing things, right?
"So, this must be Camilla." That voice, deep, almost sinister, cold enough to shoot a chill through a dead man's spine.
My eyes widened, as I looked him over, he was a slightly older man, his hair greying on the ends, though he was still quite muscular. His face had a few scars, one just above his eyebrow, the other, on his jawbone. "H-hello, sir." I stuttered, my heart pounding against my ribcage, it was him, my boss, but why?
Anna released my hand, and gently elbowed him in the gut. "Would you quit staring at her like that? You're probably creeping her out." She whispered, but I still heard her.
He smiled, a closed eyes, teethy smile, something I'd never seen on him before, his hand raising to shake mine. "That's right where're my manners? The names Clyde, I fix computers, I hear you're a veterinarian, is that right?"
I shook his hand, half worried he'd pull me in and slit my throat for dating his daughter. "That's right, I've been a vet for about three years now."
He smiled at that. "Well isn't that great, an animal lover! You know what they say about people who love animals? They're trustworthy, kind, wouldn't hurt a fly." His voice drawled off near the end, an almost challenging tone hidden beneath, though I don't think anyone else noticed.
Just then, the stove beeped, meaning the food had just finished cooking, only then did I notice the smell, Italian? "Ooh, the foods done, hope you like baked spaghetti!" Anna exclaimed, before pulling the large casserole dish from the oven, and taking it to the dining room, leaving her father and I alone, awkwardly.
"So, you're dating my daughter?" He whispered, as she sat the table. His voice was now devoid of emotion, he wouldn't even look at me. "I will warn you now, if you're working for someone else, if she's a target, I will personally remove every bone from your body, slowly, starting with your toes, and your fingers. Do I make myself clear?"
I gulped, a knot forming in my throat. "Y-yes sir, but, she isn't a target, you are my only employer, sir, and I've not told her about you, or myself, sir." I could feel sweat forming on my skin, my pulse racing. I'd told the truth, I knew that, but he was always known for being... Paranoid, to say the least.
A few tense moments passed, before a soft smile played over his lips. "That's good to hear. I suppose, if she's with you, she will be safe, isn't that right? Well then, you have my blessing. Do not make me regret it, or you will too."
Just then, she returned to the kitchen. "So, who's ready to eat?" | The door opened up and mom came rushing at Michelle and they hugged and squealed like moms and daughters do. I smile and wait to get introduced to mom. Dad is no one where to be seen at the moment, he's probably in the kitchen or the garage. Michelle's mom breaks free of her and comes over to me and gives me a great huge hug.
"So you must be Dr Justin. Michelle has told us so much about you. I am Diane. Its a pleasure to meet you come on in!" She practically drags me into the living room. She turns to back of the house and yells "RON! Michelle is here with her bf. Come say hello!"
A moment later, a tall lean man with greying hair comes around the corner and stops. For a brief moment, confusion, fear and anger cross his face. I am sure my face mirrored his. Both of were professionals and I was sure the women didn't pick up on that moment between Ron and I.
"Dr Justin! Welcome to our house. Come on, want a beer?" he asks me.
"I'd love one, Mr Jacobs." I reply.
"Nonsense, call me Ron. Come on to the kitchen, we'll let the girls catch up for a few minutes."
We walk into the kitchen and there is dinner the final stages of being prepped. He opens the fridge and gets me a beer.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he looks at me accusingly.
"Seriously, did you think I'd go out, find your daughter and start dating her? Do I look fucking stupid to you?" as I sip at my beer.
He lets out a laugh that's meant for the women and he leans in. "So how did you met her? I know you had met someone but she is the last person I thought it would be."
"Me too. Look met her through some friends at a bar about 6 months ago. One thing lead to another and here we are."
Ron sighed heavily. "She has no clue?"
I look him back in the eyes. "Does Diane know?" He shakes his head no.
"So what are going to do here, Doc?" He put a little too much emphasis on the Doc.
"Look. I really like her. Fuck, I even was had planning to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Well, until I realized you was you you. Right now, I don't fucking know."
That comment made Ron look like someone just punched him below the belt. "Excuse me, what?!"
"I love her, Ron. You trained me and you can read me like a book. You always knew when I was holding back or lying. You tell me. Am I now?"
Ron shook his head no again.
"You know she's safe with me. Hell, you're her father and didn't even know it was me dating her. The only issue is I can't keep up the facade of Dr Justin, Vet. But I got that covered, I'll sell the business and then just go into philanthropy for animal causes. It keeps the wanting to visit the office thing from being an issue. Now, are you ok with this?" I look him dead in the eyes.
"Look if you hurt her..." I wave him off and make the talking hand motion with my hand. "Yeah, I am ok with this. I kept what I do from Diane and Michelle for the last 30 years. Its not easy, but now you keep them from knowing from your end too."
"I got it, dad...errrr. Boss" I say with a cheeky smile.
He draws his hand back to punch me, but stops and laughs.
"Asshole..." | 2020-06-05T14:47:09 | 2020-06-05T14:37:46 | 28 | 21 |
[WP] It is 2026. All major governments have been overthrown by one singular world power, who now intends to rule over us all “for our own good.” It’s Canada.
Edit: You guys. These are so, so great! I’d told my husband I was going to give gold to my favorite and I’m STRUGGLING to decide. Haven’t read them all yet but am thoroughly enjoying these. You guys rock. Thanks for playing along. | We've tried to be be right nice about this eh?
We tried to sit and wait as you sorted yourselves oot and learned that you were all family, all one people.
But no longer can we stand by and watch. Our spies have apologized their way into positions of power, and our mounties are well... they're mounties. Nuff said.
Our legions of trained squirrels have gunked up every weapon in the world with maple syrup. This WILL be a peaceful transition.
Mounties will be making the rounds, as exemplars of politeness and love for ones follow person.
There will be a few new laws, that may take adjusting to, but which will send us into a brighter tomorrow. They are as follows.
1. Whenever a conflict arises, both parties will immediately apologize. This will not be an admission of guilt, but instead a reminder to both parties that they are both people, and therefore on the same side.
2. Maple syrup comes from a tree. Nothing needs to be added to it. Calling anything other than maple syrup, maple syrup, or theft of syrup in quantities larger than 3000 tons of are the crimes still punishable by death.
3. Hockey replaces football. All footballs. Equipment will be provided for those unable to afford it.
4. Health care and internet are now utilities along with food, water, and basic housing.
5. Weed is awsome. Smoke it if you want, dont if you dont, dont be a hoser who does it in public
6. All wood chopping shall be done shirtless while wearing suspenders and a hat.
7. Do your best not to be a hoser.
More laws will come as needed. We promise a brighter tomorrow, and apologize for having to be so aggressive about all this.
Have a swell day, eh? | "Your women will be made love to by our men..your children will be politely asked to join a child workforce which comes with benefits such as healthy snacks, afternoon nap, and an actual education where their skills are not measured by standardized tests.
As for you, you will get work a 35hour work week with fair wages, free medical and dental care, and pension benefits.
If you dont mind.."
Said Justin Trudeau as his 3,000 strong army of ethnically diversed middle aged men, working women, and amatuer hockey players terrorize the world with sharpened ice-skating blades | 2018-04-02T21:10:23 | 2018-04-02T20:57:16 | 104 | 60 |
[WP] You are not a good person. Your party was made of good people, and you tried to be good because you liked having allies. But now they're all missing, so they won't see the lengths you're willing to go to to save them. | "I good girl." Said the scruffy black cat.
The orc jailer squinted down at the talking feline. He was a great green brute of an orc, and was the very last line of defense in the intricate cave system of the Western Mountain Orc Prison.
The orc jailer usually delighted in having wild rats pass by his post at night, because then he could smash the rats with his club and throw their bloody bodies into the prisoner's cells and listen to the occupants scream. It was his only entertainment during the night shift.
But he had never seen a cat while on duty in the caves. And he'd never even heard of a talking one before. He wondered if his brothers further up the line had let it pass to him on purpose.
The cat stepped closer into the torch light and sniffed at the ground, then licked her lips. She looked like she'd been in a lot of fights in her life; her hair was missing in spots, her ears were chewed up and scarred, and she smelled like she had rolled over something dead. She was old and ugly and the orc's brothers had probably just ignored her when she'd gone by.
The jailer began to slowly reach for his club, thinking of which cells he could throw her squished body into. The older prisoners were getting used to his dead rat game, but might squeal a little differently if a bigger, smellier cat was thrown at them. But those new prisoners... The ones still so full of hope and good faith... he could hardly wait to hear what kind of screams they might make.
The cat watched with shining yellow eyes as the orc moved in slow motion, quietly picking up his enormous club. She could smell his intent to kill, but she stood still and poised.
When the orc moved to swing his club at her, she heard the soft jingle of metal keys somewhere on his left leg.
'Keys good', thought the cat.
Before the club could reach her, the old cat had morphed growing dagger sized teeth and a bear-sized head. She zipped past the orc's club and sunk her teeth into his exposed neck. The jailer couldn't even let out a scream as his windpipe was squished, like a rat against his club. The cat's body continued to morph and grow, matching the orc's weight pound for pound. She threw him to the ground and ripped off his head.
His blood was hot and his meat was tainted and tough, but to the monster ripping through those muscles and bones, he tasted like sweet, sweet victory. Savagely, she tore into him, swallowing his still convulsing heart, chewing up his bones, and even licking up the blood that had sprayed across the cave walls and floor. In no time at all, she had devoured everything the orc had ever been. Except, for his untouched left leg.
It had been ages since she had killed this much. Ever since she had been adopted and loved by her party in her small Sneaking form, she had held back her natural instinct to stalk, kill, and eat her enemies. She had sat back and allowed her party to complete small quests and capture minor criminals at their own pace, enjoying the love and attention that their good hearts had bestowed upon her along the way. She had even begun to believe all the little things they said to her when they scratched her scarred ears, petted her uneven fur, or fed her little fish they bought with their hard earned money.
But then someone had taken them away, had sold them and imprisoned them in an orc's mountain. That person had been the first in line to go.
The monster delicately picked up the orcs's leg and shook it until a ring of keys fell off. She chomped and swallowed up the last bit of orc, and then quietly made her way down the line of cells with the keys hanging from her bloody teeth. The scent of her party wafted through a barred window on a small wooden door. She stopped and dropped the keys at the base of the door and licked her muzzle. She began to shrink back into her Sneaking form and let out a curiously sweet 'mew'.
There was movement behind the door, and the leader of her party came into view between the bars of the window. He was bruised and scratched up, but ecstatic to see the party's little cat.
She 'mewed' happily as the leader roused the rest of the party and they began to devise a plan to reach the keys and open the cell door before the jailer could notice them.
Smiling at her little party, the cat curled up in the hall to await their attempts at escape. They had all the time in the world, of course. No one was left to hurt them here.
"I good girl." Purred the scruffy black cat. | Beckett said, “I’m frequently asked how I came to join a party such as theirs, I’m sure you’ll be thinking about it shortly.”
Joey rattled in his chair, “What’s the plan Beckett? I know you wouldn’t hurt an innocent, none of you would!”
The light was scarce down in Beckett’s basement, two torches fought silent battles with the dancing shadows on both sides of the meagre room. Joey chuckled, he thought he was in control, thought he had a good read on all the cards. It smelled like a rat had started to decompose somewhere nearby.
Beckett smiled a hollow smile, there was no need to dress it up for the present company, “You’re hardly innocent. I need to know where you’ve trapped them, Joey.” He put down a bone cutter on the wooden barrel next to Joey.
“You’re not fooling anyone, *Beckett*, you’ve all got sticks so far up your asses that—”
Beckett punched Joey across the jaw with such force that the chair toppled over, “I’m a bard, Joey, all I have are stories, which one you choose to believe is up to you.” Joey spit out a mouthful of blood on the stone floor as Beckett pulled him up along with the chair.
Joey said, “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not fooling anyone!”
“Heard from your brother Adam lately?”
“He’s off on an important, let’s say, *business acquisition*. Keeps to himself Adam does, what of it?”
Beckett slowly paced behind the chair, Joey tried to turn his head to follow, “I heard he got attacked by bandits, just off King’s trail. Seems that they weren’t satisfied with simply robbing him, so they slit his throat. Gruesome work, really.”
Joey grew more nervous, “You’re wrong, he’ll be in Artala by now, you’re trying to rattle me and it’s not going to work!”
Beckett chuckled, “No, you’re right— it’s just a story. Let me tell you another one, about how Adam was blackmailing Austin, the paladin I’ve chosen to follow. The one you have presently hidden away somewhere.”
Beckett rapped his knuckles against the barrel, “Everyone takes for granted that our entire party is lawful good, I mean we have a paladin, it goes without saying!”
“Well, I’m neither lawful nor good. I know what needs to be done— to get the wheels turning— and it’s not by spreading *goodness*. It’s by instilling fear.”
Joey said, “Adam’s in Artala, you’re not going to rattle me!”
Beckett got right up in Joey’s face, he could almost feel the moisture running down Joey’s wrinkly forehead, after seconds of excruciating silence he said, “Your brother is dead.”
Joey said, “You’re lying! He’s in Artala, I don’t know anything about any blackmail!”
Beckett kicked over the barrel, the lid sliding off from the impact with ease, Adam’s pale face emerged from the cramped darkness within. Joey’s mind snapped and he howled until his face was red and his neck filled with thick veins, trying in vain to power through the tight rope, it was no use.
Beckett picked up the bone cutter from the cold floor, “Let’s try this again. Where have you trapped them, Joey?”
*****
Thank you for reading! | 2019-12-07T13:02:32 | 2019-12-07T11:28:56 | 171 | 92 |
[WP] A self-proclaimed God-King of an Empire, Conqueror of World, hires the best assassins on himself - to try and kill him. Dozens have failed so far: poisons, duels, arrows, ambushes - the King stands unbreakable, laughing death in the eyes. You, my friend, are the next assassin hired by him. | The other assassins got it all wrong. Thought inside the box. The God-King wouldn't hire all of us if he thought he could lose, and rightfully so - he was more powerful than any human. His martial prowess was unmatched, his magical capabilities incomprehensible. So when I got the contract and was, shall we say, *convinced* to take it on, I spent a good few days considering all my options, praying to my God to bless me with an answer. One that I eventually found.
Diplomacy.
Not with the God-King himself, goodness no - he was as skilled at debating as he was at fighting. But I could approach someone who he wouldn't hire because he knew he might lose. Took me a while to find one such person, and even longer to tempt him, but it was my only option.
The day came - the last day I was allowed to carry out my attempt. Much to the surprise of the guards and even the God-King, instead of sneaking through the window or using some teleportation to infiltrate the castle, I merely walked in through the front gate. Making my way through the golden palace, I stood face to face with the God-King himself. He was the very pinnacle of what humanity could be - several meters tall, pure muscle, flowing black hair. Perfection.
"Ah, the assassin," he said; his voice was pure, clear, and commanding. As charismatic as it was imposing.
"I see I won't be dodging arrows today. Come to duel me, then?" he asked casually. I opened my coat to reveal that I carried no weapons.
"No, good sir. Many have tried that and they all failed. I wouldn't be any different." It was impertinent of me not to address him by his full title, but what did I have to lose?
"Have you poisoned my food then?"
"No. I talked."
He lifted an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "You talked?"
"No man can match you, that much is clear. So I talked to someone who is beyond a mere mortal," I said and motioned to the door.
"I talked to your son."
As if on command, the door swung open, and in walked another demigod of a figure - almost as tall as the God-King himself. His once noble visage was now pale with black veins running across his face - a little boost I provided with the aid of a god, *my* god, who had vested interest in seeing the arrogant emperor fall. The God-King's eyes widened as he saw his beloved son now turned against him. He opened his mouth slightly, looking for words, but could only muster to whisper his son's name.
"Horus?" | “I am invincible nothing can kill me!” He boasted yet the assassin did not react. “So how are you going to try and kill me? All have failed you will be no different!” The figure lifted a single figure and pointed to a chair in the corner of the throne room. “I will do it from there.” And there the figure sat unmoving the King cautious as always placed several guards to watch them.
The figure didn’t move not for hours days weeks months or even years. Eventually the king forgot about them other assassins tried but always failed. No one remembered the silent unmoving assassin. Until finally when the king was old and grey did the assassin move.
They stood in front of the throne and spoke two words. “I win.” The king remembering the fool laughed as hard as he could. “You’ve won nothing you didn’t kill me time did!”
“Indeed I did.” The figures cloak finally fell to reveal Time. “You though yourself a god and challenged the world to kill you all failed but you forgot you are mortal and in all your challenges you never left a legacy. You will be forgotten in three generations your portion of history nothing more than a footnote.” The king suddenly turned frantic desperate to prove the assassin wrong but already he could feel the end fast approaching. “Had you left a legacy I could never have killed you instead you orchestrated your own fall.” And those were the final words the god-king ever heard. | 2022-05-25T02:00:27 | 2022-05-25T01:05:19 | 233 | 60 |
[WP] At the age of 18, every human goes to a special school. Here, they will be magically drawn to the classroom where someone will teach them their true calling. The room you enter is...empty. Not even a teacher there. Apparently no one else can even see a door there. | Alone. One word that defined my whole life.
—————-
The day my father vanished from the house, leaving nought but cigarette stubs and a vacant closet, my Mom cradled me in her arms and we were alone together.
On the first day of grade school, in a sea of new and unfamiliar faces, laughing and talking about things I didn’t understand, I was alone.
In the principal’s office, across Becca’s mother and a teary-eyed Becca sitting across the table - a tuft of hair missing and my favorite eraser still in her grubby clutches - I was alone.
When the phone rang and I was busy prepping our microwave dinners, waiting for Mom to come back from her emergency shift at the ER, I was alone.
Behind the glass pane of the quarantine room, watching my Mom wheeze into her ventilator, I was alone.
On that rainy Tuesday afternoon, dressed in my only black dress, staring blankly into the small puddle forming on the lid of the coffin, I was the most alone I’d ever been.
———
So when on Selection Day I found myself an Apprentice in an empty room with no Guide, I was not surprised. I was sad, disappointed, angry, and bitter in turns - but not surprised. After waiting for 12 long, lonely hours in room 401, I accepted that not even my own future wanted anything to do with me.
As I slowly packed up my things to go, the door swung open. I turned around, hoping against hope - but it was just the janitor.
“Hey kid, Selection Day’s over. Time to get out.” As he looked around the empty, bare room and my unhappy face, it slowly dawned on him. “Ah. You’re one of them. The Uncalled.”
———
Bonding over a tepid coffee in a break room of the Selection Hub, I found in Norie a kindred soul. He had fled a few decades ago from the Outlands up North, where the Authority's zealots held no sway and where nobody had even heard of a Calling. With no family, friends, or Calling of his own, Norie bounced between odd jobs until he eventually landed at the Hub.
I settled into a new routine. Norie slipped me onto the payroll through a few "friends", and I began working as a janitor on the night shift. During the day, I attended vocational college, courtesy of a faked Calling card provided by the same "friends".
In my spare time, I worked on my small projects, little tinker toys made from scraps that jittered and spun as they slowly wound down. I always understood them more than people. They always followed strict, unbending rules - even if those rules were obscure. People were messy, inconsistent, impossible to predict or understand.
If not for Norie's encouragement, I never would have thought to apply for my Master's in Engineering or my PHD in Biomechanics. I'd have been happy sweeping those floors, watching those eager applicants file into Selection to find their Calling. But he always wanted me to be more than I was. I think he saw in me the daughter he'd never had.
——
But my loneliness was not gone - it was just hiding patiently in its corner, waiting for the fullness of time to embrace me back into itself. And after a few years, it found its opening.
It quickly spiraled out of control. A synthetic super-muscle prototype flexed beyond its operating limits. A colleague dead on the lab floor. An Authority investigation uncovering my faked Calling. My promising career shattered and broken. An interrogation and a long stint in a deniable black site.
But when I finally got home after 6 months, what broke me was the tiny cardboard box on my doorstep. On top of Norie’s few belongings was a picture of us on my graduation day and a short note from the the Authority that Norie had “died of natural causes during questioning, with no registered next of kin.”
I threw myself into my work, taking every black market deal and dubious genehack job to fund my work. From that research came the Gorilla Arms, which helped me rip the doors of the Opus Bank’s vault straight off their hinges. The heist paid for the materials of my Frog Legs, which helped me scale the cliffs guarding Authority BioLab 3. That gave me the final piece of my plan - the Chameleon Scales.
———
I stand on the roof across the Hub on Selection Day, eagerly anticipating my biggest strike on the Authority yet. I’d found my own Guide without them, in spite of them. And they took him away from me, just as they’d taken everything else.
The first blow from my Gorilla Arms blows open the doors of the Hub - sending wood, Guides and Apprentices flying in equal measure. I relish the fear in the eyes of the Authority soldiers as their bullets plink off the Chamelon Scale on my torso. With a giant leap of my Frog Legs, I bound to the top floor, smashing the Authority Panopticon watching the Callings. Working my way down the floors, destroying everything in my wake, I smile at the uncertainty, the anger, the confusion in the faces of the Guides and Apprentices I smash through. Let them feel what I felt.
I briefly stop in front of Room 401, and then I see her. The gleam in her eyes. Not fear, not anger, but envy. Suddenly, I realize what I was missing all these years. My true Calling.
——-
——-
——-
The door opens, and the hulking chimera of a monster steps in slowly. She is not afraid. Nobody will miss her anyway.
The beast stops in front of her, and a woman’s visage emerges from the shimmering scales.
“Good afternoon Apprentice. I’m your Guide today.”
“Welcome to the Uncalled.” | Your first day of Life School had always been the biggest day of your life. You spent eighteen years enjoying a carefree ride until you get tossed into a building where strange energy guides you to a classroom; here you will have a Guide that teaches the ways of your chosen trait. From janitor to a nuclear scientist, every fresh eighteen-year-old gets a path. At first many believed it was some type of scam, but after seeing that everyone who was drawn to their career excelled, we've accepted it as the law of all things.
Everyone had a path. Some strange force guided you to it. And that's what you did the rest of your life.
Well... What happened if someone had an unknown path?
There I sat, all alone in the classroom. Not a student or Guide in sight. I gazed out of the classroom window that displayed the hallway. Other students began to gawk with wide eyes. In a blink of an eye, the window was filled with gossiping students. A Guide barged into the room.
"Uh." He feverishly flipped through a clipboard the size of a dictionary. "Yana? Yana Brown--yep that's you! If you'd come with me! I'm afraid you're in the wrong class. This classroom is vacant. Perhaps the energy is guiding you to a neighboring class. I believe you're in between audio engineer and shopping cart specialist. If you'd just come with me--"
The Guide took a few steps forward and was hit by an invisible wall. His clipboard and rump hit the floor, papers flew everywhere.
"Oh my," he said, trembling. "I need to get Principle Perry!"
Some time had passed. The window full of wide-eyed students turned into Guides and a news crew. Principle Parry and the Guide who had spoken to me earlier--his name was Ryan as I heard--began to argue. As the time dragged out, I found myself constantly glancing at the clock. I had been sitting at this desk for nearly three hours!
A knock came at the door.
I looked at the window and saw wide eyes fixated on me. Everyone was still as stone.
A tall woman entered the room. She wore a black suit and had the gait of a President.
"Yana brown?" She asked.
"Yes?" I gulped.
"I am going to ask you to do one thing." The woman cautiously pointed to the classroom door. "Try to walk to that door, touch the handle, turn the handle, then open the door. Can you try that for me?"
I nodded and arose. My legs were a bit shakey--I had been sitting for a few hours entertaining the world. I did as the woman requested.
I got to the door.
Placed my hand on the handle.
Turned the handle.
Then opened the door.
I slowly turned my head to the woman in black.
"Now try to--slowly--walk outside of this classroom," she said.
I gulped and turned to the hallway. To my left was a news crew and Guides. To my right were Principle Perry, Ryan, and even more guides.
I took one step out of the classroom and, within a blink of an eye, I was shoved back with impossible force. The door slammed as soon as my rump slammed in the seat. The wave of energy caused the woman in black to nearly put a hole in the wall with her back.
"I..." She struggled. "I have to go now!"
She ran out of the classroom faster than I had been forced back into my seat. The brief moment the door was opened I heard a cacophony of shouts from all of the Guides.
*What was my path?*
This question clogged my mind for the next hour. By the end of hour four, my phone rang.
*Unknown Caller*.
I looked over to the window. Wide eyes... Still.
I answered the phone.
"Hello?" My poor excuse of a voice was so low I barely heard it.
"Agent Yana Brown," a distorted voice said. "Welcome to the team. Unfortunately, your town did not have a secret agent Guide. In fact, we here at the office are all perplexed by the situation. This situation is truly one to marvel at--it's not every day someone gets a path outside of their reach. We have a helicopter on its way to you now. We will extract you out of the classroom. Do not mention this to anyone."
A surge of relief coursed through my veins. "Ok," I said.
The secret agent killed the line.
I looked over to the classroom window. Their eyes were even wider now.
My eyes were wide too. *That's right world! I'm a frickin' secret agent!* | 2022-05-07T22:14:18 | 2022-05-07T17:27:57 | 203 | 121 |
[WP] Your final wish to the Djinn is to meet the girl who will be your perfect soulmate. Just then you hear an ear piercing scream... your best friend/roommate just turned into a girl.
She (he?) still has all the memories of her (his?) previous life; but others might not.
Also consider what the other wishes might have been.
EDIT: Feel free to reverse the genders if you like. It does not have to be a boy turned girl. | The few people who are in the know want to ask me how I didn't know my roommate was a Gemini. Sorry. Autocorrect. Given I. Dammit. Gemini. Ginie. Finite. Fuck. DJINN.
Just settle for that. Which is the right spelling, apparently.
Well what I want to ask them is this: "How do you know your roommate isn't one?"
There's no answer to this. Buzzfeed has yet to offer a definitive quiz on this. And the truth is, you only know a Djinn is a Djinn when they want you to know. Or they slip up. Which is rare. It might take 4 years for that to happen.
Sure, she offered to take care of procuring the toilet paper, paper towels...stuff we needed with regularity and consistency. I just figured she had a Costco membership. Never would it have occurred to me to think she was conjuring them out of thin air.
Once, I really needed rent and I just couldn't come up with it. I was tapped out and still $200 short. I really wished and prayed for a windfall of some kind. When the scratch off ticket turned out to be a winner, I actually tried to make her take it. She'd bought it after all. They were her winnings, really. But she wouldn't take it.
She never had trouble coming up with rent even though I never saw her go to work. But then again, lots of people make money selling jewelry on Etsy.
Long and short of it is, there was never anything that happened that couldn't be accounted for by good luck and an alternative lifestyle.
But then...
"But then." What a typical thing to say. But it's true. It was out of the blue.
Nobody suspects a car accident. It happened just as quick as any "but then" might.
My phone rang at 2:34 am. It must have rung twice to get through my do not disturb settings. I don't know why I answered it. Perhaps because a call at 2:34 am seems wrong. We just answer them. It's a reflex.
Mom.
It was mom.
A car accident on the way home from the airport. My god. It sounds trite, but really, you never think it will happen to you until it does.
Critically injured. Unknown future. Come immediately.
I threw on some pants and found my keys in a daze. I drove in a fog. I don't know why, but I followed all the traffic laws. I was never a better driver than I was that night. And red lights were never longer. When I arrived, I was rushed in to see her. She had just come out of emergency surgery. There was nothing to do but say hello to an unconscious woman, and retire to the waiting room to cry.
I wasn't there 10 minutes before Janelle came in. At the time, I didn't think to ask how she knew, you see. I just needed her shoulder.
She was there and she was strong. She was quiet and it was soothing. The waiting room was empty and I was just so glad to not be alone.
After some time, she went and got me some coffee. We sat side by side in the white silence.
"Don't you wish she would be okay?" She said. "Don't you wish she'll pull through?"
Her words seemed like taunting. Of course I wished it. Of course. I repeated it over and over in my head: Don't let her die. Don't take her. Please please please please. Please forever until my voice runs out. God, please.
But I said nothing.
"Don't you wish? Lauren. Do you wish for it?"
Why was she pushing?
She looked at me dead in the eyes. Steady. Unwavering. Totally cold stare.
I nodded.
"You have to say it."
I gulped and looked down. "Yes. I wish she would be okay. I wish she would recover and be my mom again. No. I wish this never happened. That's what I really wish for."
Janelle looked satisfied. "Fine," She said. "Just fine."
I woke up the next morning in my own bed. I couldn't remember the ride home from the hospital or taking off my pants or sliding between the sheets.
I woke up groggy and confused. When I made my way to the living room, Janelle was sitting on the edge of the couch.
"She's fine."
"What?"
"Your mom. The hospital called. She's fine."
"What?"
"They called you last night. Your mom was sideswiped, but the damage was only to her car. She had some bruises, but no real injuries."
Very confused. "But I went there. She had surgery. Possible brain damage. How can she be fine?!" I had never heard my voice so high. Climbing and climbing.
There was silence. A wavering. Then the truth. "You wished for it. You wished it never happened. That she'd be okay."
I'd need a day or 38 to work that out. "My wish? You said I had to wish."
"I said you had to say it out loud."
"You did. I did."
"I did."
I nodded.
I turned back to my room.
"You have one left."
"What?"
"Only one. No. Not now. Think hard."
I did.
A couple days later we sat on that same couch. We hadn't talked about anything that had happened. But I had reviewed the past few years I my head.
"Janelle."
"Yes?"
"I don't want to be alone. I wish I has a real partner. A life partner. I want a mate--a husband. The perfect husband."
Nothing.
There was a moment then, when I thought maybe I had been wrong. I didn't want to look up. I felt stupid. "Anyway. Doesn't everyone?" I tried to laugh. I stood up.
"They do."
Her voice has changed. Deeper. More masculine. I turned and looked into her eyes. The same eyes. And I shivered.
"I can be whatever you need," he said.
| I'd been sharing a dorm with Matt since freshman year. We were instantly friends, and we've talked about everything together. Everything except one thing, one detail that could jeopardize everything: I loved him. Matt was the perfect man, handsome and witty and caring. Whenever he'd smile, I'd melt. Whenever he'd laugh, the whole room would get brighter. And whenever I saw him with his girlfriend, I wished I never had to see him again.
Soon enough, however, things would be changing in a major way. Spring break was coming up, and I'd had it with the party scene. Everyone just made me feel awkward and uncomfortable... everyone but Matt. I decided to break away from the crowd, de-stress, take in some culture. While everyone was flying off in droves to party all night at Daytona Beach, I booked myself a solo trip to Lebanon.
My vacation was wonderful. The architecture was stunning and I swam in the Mediterranean every afternoon. I felt like I could stay there for the rest of my life, getting fat off dates and falafels and kebabs. On the last day, I knew there was one essential purchase I had to make before returning to the states. It was at a quirky little family store in Beirut, run by a man named Abdul who looked about 65. There was an antique brass lamp that wowed me like few things I'd ever seen. It was faded and dusty but even so the patterns and the construction were absolutely stunning. As I bought it, Abdul told me a story in worried tones, but I could scarcely make any of it out, barely knowing enough Arabic to have bought the lamp in the first place.
As I polished the lamp in my hotel room, it emitted a strange light. Before I knew it, there was a jolly, pudgy man draped in fine silks levitating in front of me, glowing and semi-corporeal. He chuckled, and it echoed through my mind. It made zero sense to me. Was this an LSD flashback? I hadn't fucked around with hallucinogens in years.
"Hello, mortal!", a voice boomed. "I am the great djinn Ibrahim! You have freed me from my stylish yet extremely cramped prison of a thousand years, and as such I shall grant you three wishes!"
"How exactly does that work?", I asked quizically. *There's no way in hell this is really happening*, I thought.
"Relax, mortal, it is simple! Simply speak your will and I will make it reality!" Ibrahim flashed a can-do smile, his eyes flickering like fire.
"Erm... I wish I could pass calculus, I guess."
"It is done!", Ibrahim shouted theatrically. "The knowledge is yours!" I felt concepts rushing into my mind at an overwhelming pace. It was inexplicable and not entirely comfortable. "You have two more wishes, mortal! What does your heart desire?"
"Tickets to Coachella would be pretty nice, I guess." I felt slips of paper materialize in my hand.
"It is done!", Ibrahim shouted again. "What is your final wish, mortal?" I paused for a minute. I begin to think about Matt's lovely green eyes, and that mischievious tone he'd get in his voice, and the excitement I'd feel when his leg would brush against mine when we sat on the couch and played video games. "Well... there's this person who I love very much... it's my roommate... we're best friends, but this person doesn't love me back." I'd never told anyone that I was gay. I felt pathetic for not having the courage to tell anyone, not even a wish-granting supernatural entity.
The djinn chuckled again. "I think I know where this is going... Very well, mortal. The girl will be your soulmate forever."
"Wait, Ibrahim!" At this point, I was panicked and confused. Did I really just waste the only chance I'd ever have at getting Matt to love me? "This person... they... he isn't a girl..."
Ibrahim just laughed. "I have already granted your wish, mortal. I am free now. Goodbye, mortal! I wish you a long and delightful marriage!" With that, Ibrahim vanished into smoke. The room stank of sulfur mixed pungently with incense and perfume.
When I came back to America and unpacked, Matt was nowhere to be seen. Sitting in the corner was a voluptuous young woman in a short floral skirt. When I sat down on the bed, she turned and smiled at me. She had the same wire-frame glasses as Matt and wore the same Aphex Twin shirt. She had the same nose and the same freckles but she had glossy red lips and a tiny waist and long, perfectly waxed legs. She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen and it did nothing for me.
She walked over and sat herself down two inches away from me, looking directly into my eyes. "Hey there", she said playfully, "I'm Maddie."
*Fuck my life.* | 2014-08-19T14:38:36 | 2014-08-19T11:09:26 | 18 | 11 |
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