prompt stringlengths 20 5.8k | chosen_story stringlengths 226 10k | rejected_story stringlengths 227 9.43k | chosen_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 17:01:55 2022-12-31 14:34:19 | rejected_timestamp timestamp[ns]date 2012-07-26 14:23:36 2022-12-31 12:20:41 | chosen_upvotes int64 14 23.1k | rejected_upvotes int64 10 4.26k |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
[WP] Water is a hardcore drug in the intergalactic community. The intergalactic DEA is preparing a strike on a planet full of mammals that are so addicted to it they cannot survive without it. | "Can someone get the lights? Thank you. Roll 12, please."
Those gathered in the conference room went quiet as they watched the video. It showed a black and white collie pacing in a cage. It faded to black, then showed the same dog, laying down in the cage, panting and whining. Another cut, and the collie was lying on its side, its panting weak. Then the final cut, which showed the collie motionless.
"Recon has discovered a planet that has huge deposits of naturally occurring dihydrogen monoxide, or DiMo as its known in the unregged markets. Entire species of animals - roll 15 and then 18 please - have evolved *in tandem* with DiMo, such that it forms an integral part of their physiology. This is light years beyond giving birth to offspring addicted to methamphetamine or Kellorian Red; no matter what species we're talking about - 25, please - they all go through the same stages. First, anxiety and/or irritability. Then full-blown withdrawal symptoms, physical and psychological suffering from the absence - 28 and 30 - of the DiMo, leading to increasing fatigue. In *all* cases, no matter what alternatives are explored, the final stage is death. We are talking about life forms that cannot survive without regular fixes, frequently multiple times per planetary rotation.
"50, 52 and 55, please? The dominant life forms are these Pordixoid creatures. Despite appearances, their bodies are more DiMo than anything else...it literally courses through their veins. It pervades their existence to such an extent that when exerting themselves, they excrete the drug from their very skin. This, frankly, puts the Survival Houses of Marillion V to shame - and I will say I was on the ground there for over 5 stellar orbits. You cannot comprehend how insidiously DiMo has taken over life on this planet. 60 through 63. The Pordixoid creatures typically ingest it, sometimes in large doses, but those who are too frail and sickly to ingest it will have it injected directly into their circulatory system. They swim in it as recreation; they bathe in it. I would argue that we are not even talking about addiction any more, so much as a nightmarish example of evolutionary parisitism that rivals the brain snakes of Turqulonn."
The lights slowly came back on and one of the audience members raised its tentacle. "So...what are we going to do? How do you rehab cases this extreme?"
The speaker turned all of his eyes to study the audience member. "Rehab is a non-starter. And the quantity of DiMo freely available - pure, uncut, no refinement or distillation needed - is in the trillions of kilojubbers. The stuff literally falls from the sky. It cannot be allowed to fall into the waiting hands of dealers, especially gangs with FtL capabilities - they could have entire systems addicted to the stuff before we even know the planet's been discovered.
"Top brass has discussed it and this is going to be a planetary de-engineering. It's regrettable to do a full PD on what is, by some metrics, a flourishing planet...but I think if you consider the facts, there's really no other choice. The PD is scheduled for four meganoots from now. Get some food, suit up, and then get to your stations.
"And may Zorthrak, the Winged Star, have mercy on our porps."
***
/r/ShadowsofClouds | "The inhabitants of this world are extremely hostile and we have received images from the planet this morning; showing what appears to be polluted oceans. Seems like this species cannot even keep the drug they rely on so heavily clean. Approach target area with caution. At the first sign of aggression, shoot on site."
Those were our final orders before approaching the targeted landing site. We had heard some pretty grotesque tales about this world and the beings that lived there - but I would not be prepared for this. I see the scenery emerge as we pass through the clouds. A large lake with what appeared to be a rural village community.
"Karovi, take point A and I'll cover B - we'll regroup once we've scoured the area," my commanding officer looked more fired up than ever. He had rage filled in his eyes.
I approached a small hut with caution, a rusty wooden door already ajar. As the sunlight peeked through - a sight which takes over me. They were *humans*, just like us. They were unclothed, and they were just small children. All of them cowered in the corner seemingly due to my rifle pointing in their direction. I lowered my weapon.
"Hi," I said gently, in fear of frightening them.
They look at me, faces half-hidden and do not utter a word.
"It is ok, I am here to help you," I quickly understood that we had yet to see the full picture.
It was becoming obvious, rather quickly, that these people were living in poverty. I turned my gaze toward the lake just behind me. The musty brown colour. I had never seen water so dirty. Not to mention the sensation I could feel inside my nostrils. How could people live like this? Especially these poor children.
"Commander, I need you at the far-side. The small hut at the end," I needed him to see this.
Suddenly one of the children lowered his hands. A little boy with piercing brown eyes looking at me as if I was an alien. And well - technically that would not be inaccurate.
"Wh-who are you?", he asks timidly.
"I am a human like you, from another place far away. Do not worry, I will help you," I took out a piece of cloth from my jacket and wiped the dirt from his cheek.
"Karovi what's going o-", my commander entered and panicked the children.
"We didn't know the full story, sir. This planet might have a major drug problem --but I think it's clear that some of them don't even have a *clean* drug supply to even survive on -- if you know what I mean," I tell him passionately as he too, takes a look at the dirty lake behind.
He hesitated for a moment. Before calling his superior. I gathered the kids and we walked back outside as the sun blazed down. I had a quick check of where were, according to my codex the inhabitants called this region 'Africa', which appeared to be a very large territory. I know feared that this could be quite a widespread problem. If that was the case, my only intention would be to get these people out of here and to somewhere safer and cleaner. As we walked along the bank, more people poured out from the remaining huts. Packed tightly together like a school of fish, looking frightened at the ongoing frenzy in front of them.
More units arrived. We directed the villagers to our fleet ships waiting on the west side of the area. I noticed my commander's superior looking over at me. He signalled.
"Sir do you see this?", I ask.
"Officer Karovi, this is an unexpected finding. It's good we found them. Report back to Commander Uzora. He's already preparing shuttles to head to more landing zones. This planet might have a water problem, but our first priority is ensuring the safety and relocation of these villagers.",
"Yes sir!", as I headed to my shuttle.
I jumped in and noticed my other squadmate staring with a blank expression from the rear of the shuttle.
"Hey, Tarik, didn't expect to find this, did you?" I took my seat.
"This is. Well. I don't even know. These people, especially those kids. They look just like us. And yet, living like *this?* can you imagine conditions like this back home? I hate to think what else we'll find here. How does a society let it get this bad?", full of empathy of course.
"You're telling me. First things first, helping the rest of these people. And later we can deal with their *clean water* problem..." | 2018-01-23T21:36:48 | 2018-01-23T15:31:27 | 524 | 162 |
[WP] In the near future, you’re able to sell unused time. One day, while scrolling through listings, you see an entry “For sale: 60 years 2018-2078”
Sorry guys it’s my first prompt, just curious how this will pan out | The listing was unusual for two reasons. First, it was by far the longest span of time I'd ever seen. Most sales were for a few weeks or months. Here and there, desperate souls tried to sell a year or two to the particularly wealthy. Sixty years was unprecedented. But the second reason was even more unusual.
It was listed at only a $1.
Thinking it must be a mistake or a joke, I clicked on the link and saw a standard profile of an unassuming, portly office worker who might have been in his early sixties. There was a phone number listed on the page, and I called him up.
Yes the quantity was correct.
Yes the price was correct.
Yes he was of sound mind.
Would I like to meet that afternoon to finalize the transaction?
I hesitated. It was too good to be true, and I should just hang up and walk away before my dreams were crushed again. But something stopped me, a spark of hope rallying like a tiny David against the Goliath of my jaded caution.
We met and made small talk before I finally got to the question burning in my mind.
"Why?"
He looked at me and then turned away.
"Sixty years," he said. "Sixty years I've been on this Earth, and it wasn't worth a hill of beans. What did I see? What did I do? What life was made better because I was here? Nothing. Nothing. None. What is my life worth? One dollar. One measly dollar. But if I sell it to you, I just have one request.
"This time around, make it worth something."
*****
r/Kathiana | As the world descended into political chaos, and the level of trust among the world leaders around the globe has never been any lower. That level of distrust was passed on to the citizens, and the mentality shifted to a survivor's attitude in a savage, ugly world.
We do what we can to survive. You do not have any right, nor do anyone else. Only murder is prohibited, along with any other intentional killing. Despite the lack of deaths, the suffering was very real, as your belongings can be stolen at any time, any safe haven you have could be hijacked, you could be observed through thousands of cameras, and there's nothing you can do about any of it.
Your only survival tool is your own body.
The world has calmed down. The world has started to come to its senses around a decade later.
Humanity's ugliest side in the entire species has been exposed in multiple ways across so many mediums.
All possible types of scenarios and personalities were discovered, and there was no mystery in anything anymore.
Civilization started to rebuild, communities started to prosper again, and life seemed to reminiscence the early 2010's.
However, there was a catch.
The cameras had to stay, and they were seized by anonymous government employees that have sworn an oath to never reveal what they see.
In the year 2039, the MCTS (Mandatory Contribution to Society) Act has been introduced by the Principal United Nations Advisor, which enables AI to use existing cameras to monitor the behavior of society, and is compared to a minimum citizen behavior criteria. If a citizen falls out of the criteria, their time is classified as "Unused".
They called them the 'Floaters'.
The Floaters have been identified in government as Non-Conforming Citizens, which drops many of their legal rights and status in the state.
Consequently, the Floaters survive on their own and are usually banned from entry to a lot of places.
Clementine was twenty-three years old, when she was standing outside a building block with the promise of a new job.
That was her last memory.
She woke up in the year 2079. She was told how she abused and raped repeatedly that night, and that she has been in a coma for 60 years.
A few weeks later, Clementine buys into the "Sell Your Time" schemes that were basically like suicide booths.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" - the office clerk says
"Yes. Though whomever buys my life, I'd like to make the condition that they are able to experience everything I've experienced, physically and emotionally."
"Sure thing." | 2018-01-25T19:45:49 | 2018-01-25T19:33:04 | 143 | 17 |
[WP] As you die, your soul doesn’t ascend to heaven like you thought it would. Instead you feel yourself moving downwards, until you find yourself in Hell. The Devil looks surprised. You’re the only person who has ever been sent to him. | “Come on Jack it’s been one Earth week. What did you do?”
“Leave me alone Satan. I shouldn’t be here and you know it. It was...a mistake.”
“Pffft. Mistake my red ass. Let’s see, you’re a plumber from London. Hard worker, gives to charity, wow even a Church visit every now and again. You must’ve REALLY messed up for Dad to send you to me. No one comes to me, ever.”
“I made one fatal error. Just one. And he punishes me like this? How is it fair?! I haven’t killed anyone, I haven’t stolen anything! I didn’t attempt to start a REBELLION!”
“Easy there Tiger. You’re here with me now, best not to poke at old wounds. Look here Jack I’ll let you in on a little secret. The truth is you only receive Judgement from God during the final moments of your life, he chooses where to send you based on your actions only minutes before your death. This is why there’s no one here, even the foulest of folk go through a cycle of regret, remorse and shame before they bite it. That’s the bit the Bible Brigade have right: God Always Forgives. It says here that you were killed by falling debris, a quick death, therefore you would have been judged on the moments leading up to that point. Do tell.”
“Fine. You win. It was lunch break on the site, a big cooperative gig. Plumbers, sparkies, brickies, we were all there. It was my turn to get refreshments.”
“Go on.”
“I did everything right. Everyone’s personal cups, enough water, sugar for everyone...I just...I just..”
“Oh Jack, tell me you didn’t.”
“...I put the milk in first.” | "What the-" The bright red man is stammering.
"I mean, FIRE AND DAMNATION BE UPON YOU! YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN DEEMED UNWORT-- Alright, who the fuck are you and why are you here?" I guess this is satan. I probably should've picked up on that.
"Well, my name is Jonathan Hurst, and I suppose my soul was deemed unworthy, I guess that was probably expected, I never really devoted myself to any deity--"
"No. Why are YOU here?" Satan cut me off! The nerve.
"Is this some kind of motivation camp? Why are most people here? I sinned and didn't repent."
"No. You had to do something truly evil, I've never been sent a single person in the duration of my tenure. So why you?"
"I'm the only one here?!"
"What about Pol Pot, or Hitler, or some other mastermind of the deaths of countless people? What about rapists? What the fuck did I do that was evil? I certainly didn't have that remarkable of a life, I can nearly guarantee you that every single one of my actions have been duplicated by some other human being before me, give or take some really specific ones."
"God isn't one to get angry when people die, in the grand scheme of things, you really aren't that important. Hitler was Catholic, and Pol Pot never did anything to really piss the big man off."
"Look I really don't give a shit why you're here, you've done something fucked up and now I get to have fun."
"There's no way I was that evil!"
Let's see... I suppose at one point I promised my soul to Satan if I passed that math test I got a pretty good grade on... I also supposed I avoided a few people in their time of need because I didn't want to be bothered with their problems.
"That's Hurst luck I suppose." I'm sure I'll get used to the pain.
"Wait! Hurst luck! I know why you're here!"
"You are part of a long line of ancestry that have promised their souls to me for incredibly menial things! Starting with the one who promised his soul for five minutes of peace and quiet."
"Usually God doesn't care enough to worry about it, but I guess he grew tired of you and your ancestors."
"Congratulations. What'd you sell it for then?"
"A math test." Fuck me that's depressing.
"There's no way, though that I'm part of the first family to do this."
"Nope. You're in the longest perfect line, and God is set to make an example of you."
"But I didn't even know Hell existed before I got down here!"
"I don't write the rules, bud." Ope. There's the chains. "I just enforce them."
(Sorry this probably reads odd, I'm trying out some new writing styles and this seemed a good place to practice.)
| 2018-10-25T21:54:46 | 2018-10-25T20:42:23 | 19 | 11 |
[WP] You've been trapped in an endlessly repeating simulation by an alien race, studied and researched. They believe when they reset it, your memory resets as well, but for the last 1000 cycles you remember everything. | I shook my head in disbelief.
*Again?*
It seems they really never got tired of this. A massive war-machine loomed before me, training its guns on me. It was 20 feet tall, with four, long, bionic legs holding up its head, which contained its guns. I groaned before walking calmly below it. Many simulations ago, I would be shot by the thing, but I hadn't felt any pain from these simulations for ages now. The guns began spinning rapidly, preparing to mow me down, but once I got immediately below it, the guns would no longer be able to aim at me.
"Are we not tired of using the same simulation every time?" I called out to the machine. I hesitated for a moment while its pilot realized that simply sitting down would crush me. I took two steps to the right and grabbed a rock from the floor. The machine smashed itself into the ground. The pilot looked smug in his alien cockpit before I smashed it open with the rock in hand. It shrieked and put its limbs above its head.
"Akja mo plee no--"
"Lampa noo de?" I said, climbing into the cockpit while yawning. I was completing its sentence, but I still had no idea what it meant. Probably something like 'spare me.' I smashed its head in with the rock as it looked at me, shocked. I learned long ago that if I spared it, it would spit acid at me immediately. I threw its body out the cockpit and took the seat for myself, preparing yet another rampage. I decided I'd go to the suburbs this time.
"Onka no. Onka no," I heard from overhead. It sounded like a loudspeaker. It could have been an evacuation alarm, or the aliens trying to talk to me. Whatever it was, I was going for the rampage. I drove the mech to the houses and smashed each of its feet into different houses. Smash aliens started running from most houses. Children presumably. I smashed each one into a pulp, humming a tune. I wonder if the things in the simulations remembered too. They seemed scared of me, but it's hard remembering a time they weren't afraid of me after learning how to pilot this thing. I pointed the guns at the neighborhoods in front of me and obliterated them. Must have been hundreds, dead.
I grabbed a couple of the children's corpses from below me and threw them backwards, over my shoulder. By now, the flying war machines would be trying to stop me, but I would throw the deceased into their engines, destroying them as soon as they came on scene. After the initial carnage, I dropped the machine and climbed out.
I walked through the utter wreckage wrought by me. Any survivors on the brink of death were brought a swift one by my trusty rock. I made my way to the satellite tower in the center. Long ago, I believed it was the origin to all the simulations, but it also seemed to be indestructible. Nothing would take it down. I wasn't even sure it was my way out, it was just natural for me to gravitate toward it after my recurring murder sprees.
As I reached the base of the tower, the world around me glitched and faded. I sighed and put my hands into my pockets. I looked up to the audience of aliens applauding me, as if I had done something they had never seen before. A few were cheering in their strange language while others booed and hissed at me. I leaned from one leg to the next, waiting for the council that sat on a panel below to start speaking.
"Pompa. Ikta no," one said, solemnly.
"I did this exact same thing, like three simulations ago! I killed just as many people and everything! Just let me go!"
One of the council members pantomimed bashing a rock into the alien next to it, then it shook its head at me.
"I won't kill anyone if you just let me go! I got bored like 700 trials ago, just let me go!"
Another council member held up a small alien and patted it compassionately, looking at me as if to suggest I should try to do the same.
"I already tried the pacifist route! I reset every time!! What do you want from me!? Please! Just let me go!"
The aliens nodded to one another, pretending to understand what I was saying. One in the center stood and said something slowly and benevolently.
"No!! No, no!! I swear I don't want any second chances, just let me--"
The world spun around me and I was dropped in front of a giant war machine training its guns on me.
I shook my head in disbelief.
**Again.**
_______________________________________________
For more never-ending stories, come on down to /r/Nazer_The_Lazer! | The realization came quickly, though the why of it would take some time. Seven hundred and thirty four cycles to be precise. I found precision was essential, left the differences be lost amongst the sea of sameness. It begins the same way each time: I am alone, wandering along a path, in the distance, I hear a cry. Something is wounded. Alone. Scared.
That is the heart of the loop, the sameness. But the details are different. Or, rather, a single detail is different each time. Once I am walking along the path in a forest in the daylight. I hear the cry. I seek out the source, hoping to help. The next cycle, I walk the same path in the same forest, but now it is the dark of a deep, moonless night. I hear the cry. This time, I hesitate. Why? All is the same but for the time, but that difference is enough to evoke a change.
Over and over I am placed on the path. Each time I am beckoned. The scenario continues so long as I seek out the source of the cry, so long as I attempt to assist it. It stops whenever I hesitate, or otherwise fail to respond to the source of the cry.
In the earliest repetitions, or at least what I assume were the earliest, I felt only a vague sense of awareness. A familiarity that I had been on this path and heard a cry before. At first I shook it off as déjà vu, an odd coincidence. I never questioned my circumstances, only noticed the sense that I had been there before.
Soon, the sense of déjà vu would bloom into a certainty that I was reliving the same moment over and over. That I was trapped in a loop and could not escape. When the realization struck, I struggled against the confinement. But each time I stopped on the path, each time I attempted to break free of the loop, it would simply begin anew.
"What is going on?" I screamed, my voice echoing through the hard canyons of rock looming over the path, drowning out the faint cries of the unseen being. And the loop would begin again, a reward for my refusal to play along with the little game.
Hundreds of attempts I made to escape.
I left the path.
Restart.
I sat and refused to move.
Restart.
I turned and walked the other way.
Restart.
Only when I sought out the cry was I allowed to continue. Only then was I allowed a sense of progress, to feel as if I was approaching a goal and was free of the loop.
But I would find the source, embrace it, and be forced to begin anew.
As I said before, the why of it took some time. I am a man of logic and reason, and the affair set my mind on edge. I leapt to odd conclusions based upon premises I would discount out of hand if the situation were more akin to what I had known before. I suspected all manner of things. Perhaps I was in a lucid dream. Perhaps I was in a coma. Perhaps I had died and gone to the beyond, forced to pay for some terrible crime.
It was the source of the cries that unlocked the secret. Early on, the source were things familiar to me. Things that would be non-threatening. A puppy. A baby.
As the loop repeated, the source grew less benign and more foreign. Animals that I had heard of but never before seen began to appear. An aardvark. A platypus. They grew larger and more menacing. A hyena. A tiger.
Then...they became entirely foreign.
Creatures I had never seen before. Things that I had never heard of.
Alien. Different.
From beyond.
These oddities began to coalesce into a sameness of their own. A series of strange beings. At first, I resisted, not quite repulsed but certainly alarmed. Eventually, I found my way to embrace them as well. To comfort them as I had comforted those that had bore a kinship with me.
I realized, somewhere along the path, what was happening. I was being tested. Evaluated.
The extent of my compassion was being measured. The willingness to embrace that which was different from me. The ability to open my heart even when my eyes and mind bid me not to.
And so I did.
Time and time again, I expressed love to the source of the cries, no matter how far afield from what I had known. Each time, I ran to it, comforted it, let it know that I judged it not for being different. That I welcomed its presence along my path, that I cherished it.
That I accepted it.
A final time it reset. I walked along the path. I heard the cries, a strangled trilling followed by a guttural warble. I ran toward the source, not knowing what I may find but resolved to show my resolve. My feet beat down along the path, the forest a strange haze in my periphery as I sought out the source.
I turned the bend and I saw it. It towered above me, nine, maybe ten feet. Its skin was smooth, pale white and unblemished. It looked upon me with luminous black eyes, pausing a moment in the quiet of the clearing before releasing another wail.
Tears came to my eyes as I beheld it. Knowing that this was true. That this was the source of the pain. The Keeper of the Loop. The lost soul looking for a kindred spirit. I spread my arms and ran to it, overwhelmed to have finally come upon the end of my journeys. My heart beat in my chest as I closed the distance.
My fingers reached out to grasp the Keeper's.
The world faded to white.
I walked the path no longer.
**Platypus OUT.**
**Want MOAR peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus | 2018-12-03T20:50:07 | 2018-12-03T19:51:48 | 2,575 | 199 |
[WP] We did it! We finally achieved FTL travel! At first, alien races seem thrilled to have a new neighbor. Then they seem terrified of us. We are the only ones to reach the stars with technology instead of magic. | *"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." -* Arthur C. Clarke
*"Any sufficiently understood magic is indistinguishable from science"* \- Unknown
"The first twenty years were fine. People traveled back and forth between all the worlds connected by the spacegate network. Each world had a slightly different way of constructing spacegates, but each spacefaring race eventually did. Some used rings of stone, some drew circles of blood. The humans used... of all things... rings of carbon-laced iron. Can you believe it? Iron, the most magically inert substance. It was like when the Stone Magistars first entered the ring of worlds. Everybody thought stone was an undynamic element, but the ways they used and moved it opened up all kinds of new industries. At first, we thought humans were that again. Some race had invented iron magic. As we began to trade spells back and forth, trying to decipher eachothers' codexes of knowledges, we found something disturbing."
"What was that, grand maester?"
"Our spells translated into their system just fine. More than just fine. Every spell, one of... what we thought were their mages... scientists they called them... were able to be figured out... not in years, but in minutes. When we demonstrated one of our more advanced teleportation spells for the first time, the lead scientist screamed out, 'This confirms quantum entanglement is an expression of the holographic principle!'"
"What's that mean, grand maester?"
"Even to this day, we don't understand. It was like that with everything. We spoke in step-by-step processes, and cherished the lessons handed down by our ancestors, never questioning but only expanding - never tearing down the origins of our knowledge. But humans and their scientists... they tore down their own foundations every day, rebuilding them stronger and better. We had never seen anything like it. We used cocktails of ingrediants to help those damaged heal, just our vitalism traditions encouraged. They, however, could take a living being apart into pieces and put it back together. They were ALWAYS taking things apart and putting them together. They couldn't leave them alone. Their appetite to know the inner workings of things instead of just using them was insatiable. I heard they had a device called a 'atom smasher' that could even break down the fundamental building blocks of all worlds to see what THEY were made of. Everything we did could translate into what they did. They understood the parts. It never worked the other way around though, not even once. Their 'solar panels' are still a mystery to us. They capture light itself and can move iron chariots with it."
"So what happened? Why didn't we learn from these great sages that joined the ring?"
"The problem was afterwards. in a month, humans could perfectly replicate our best personal teleportation spell. In a year, every human was blipping in and out of existence. The entire imperial treasury was emptied of its gold by thieves in a week. Of course, we tried to stop them, but we were used to teleportation spells being something only grand maesters could do. We wouldn't sully ourselves with petty thievery; our reputations alone were worth more than that."
"So what happened?"
"We couldn't stand it. And we couldn't understand their methods. We went to war. Our greatest mages launched their best fireballs, our invisible assassins stormed their unwalled cities."
"Did we win?"
"We lost. Horribly. The entire ring of worlds was powerless before the humans. They could steal one tome, upload it to their infernal web of knowledge, their 'internet', and soon every human was using spells only our greatest could aspire to acheive. Our invisible assassins would trip their 'laser sensors' and 'automated defense drones'. And the fire mages..."
"Did they have bigger fireballs?"
"Even to this day, any fire mage, will break down in tears if you mention the words 'new-clear Eye-See-Bee-EM'. They did not even bother to learn our most destructive fire spells. They had already long surpassed them. They sent great flying iron chariot golems through the portals to deliver these potent spells. Entire cities were wiped out in seconds."
"You mean days. It takes days for a proper fireball seige."
"One fireball, acolyte. In seconds. In the ruins of Char'bog, you can see the shadows of people imprinted on the stones where they were eating their dinner."
"So... why are we still here? Why are humans not ruling the ring of worlds?"
"We surrendered, unconditionally. After they plundered our greatest libraries... they didn't even destroy our tomes. They merely copied them. Something about a library called 'Alexandria'. They had a very high respect for knowledge. Rather than rule us, they helped us rebuild. They did not teach us 'new-clear', but they did teach us some. As we did not have 'internet', they left us tomes called 'encyclopedia'. And then, after they had interpreted everything from our tomes... they achieved godhood. The whole species."
The acolytes eyes widened, "The.... whole species? Why do we not worship them then?"
The grand maester shook his head, "They didn't need it. When they ascended, they understood the Gods' needs for worship and sacrifice and... found an alternative. They built something they called a 'dyson sphere' to power their godhood. We do not fully understand what this was, but that it could devour a star and provide much more power than an entire world of worship and sacrifice."
"So, they left for good?"
"Not quite. After that, for daring to tread into their domain, the gods declared war on them."
"So the humans were finally defeated?"
"The gods were. Easily. They understood how the gods gained their power, they called it 'Quantum probability shifting'. They moment the first human mimicked it, it was over for the gods. This is why all of our gods are less than a thousand years old. They're all newly ascended gods that replaced the ones we lost before."
"So, humans are still out there in the universe, more powerful than any god, still lurking?"
"Yes."
"Why do they not simply control our worlds easily?"
"Because they surpassed even the desire for control. They sated that desire with this thing called 'video games'. They could fulfill their desires without the need to harm others. Even the weakest of humans could revel in the gore of a million destroyed worlds and yet not harm a soul."
"...scary."
"Yes, Acolyte. But the unknown always is. I only wished we had worked past that fear like the humans had... to embrace the unknown. Then maybe we would have been beyond the gods as a whole as well."
"So... this is all interesting... but what's it have to do with me learning to cast my mind-reading spell?"
"Because it demonstrates why I must also teach you the human art of 'psychology'. Because you need to understand why seeing without understanding truly leaves you powerless. The spell will grant you the ability to see what they're thinking, but without the ability to understand *why* they're thinking it, you will always fail against a mind-reading mage who has learned it." | \\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/
*"I guess in life things don't come cheap. My daddy always used to tell me we stand on the shoulders of giants. I never truly believed him until we made contact with the G'xe.*
*Lost in the depths of space, there they were, waiting for a friend to come from among the stars. It's been eons since nobody answered from the deep blackness. They made believe they are alone, at least in this region of space.*
*When our ships spread into the dark ocean, breaking boundaries my grandparents would've never dreamed of, everything changed. For us, and for them."*
\*\*\*
ETF Jian Xing pierced the purple clouds above X'am Ina, the home planet of G'xe confederation. X'am Ina used to be a barren world, before the 4 elder races united in the G'xe confederation and made the world suitable. The position of the planet was just at the center of their world. Of their own universe.
"Commander Hiroto, we are reaching the destination soon, we should tell the president to prepare"
"Ah, Admiral, it seems I can't ever marvel at this jewel of a planet from above. The perks of being the captain I guess. "
After personally announcing the president of their arrival, he went straight to the bathroom. Hiroto had a few days ahead of a less busy schedule. This is because while he was the commander of the ship, he wasn't an actual part of the human delegation. He loved this less strenuous windows.
​
The FTL jumps are rough and despite the dampening systems the ship was quivering quite a lot. The longer the jump, the bigger the contortions. This made long jumps unfeasible. The long distances needed to be made from a lot of smaller, less shaky jumps. This always upset his stomach, so he stood there quite a while contemplating on how shocking should've been from the people of G'xe to one day after believing you are alone in the universe, to wake up with people at their doorstep. He made an analogy in his head and laughed. Also ... could you call them people?, they were humanoid, but ... that was another topic of pondering.
​
When here returned, the delegation was already leaving. The formalities were the Admiral job in this case, so he decided to stay away, taking a walk alone to the cantina, wanting some time away from people. There, he lingered after a delicious meal, while letting the food sink in chilling at the table in relative silence, that if you count the background monotonous chat as such. Suddenly, the alarms when on. The lights turned reddish, the monotonous chats turned loud and the people started to run.
​
"Commander, Security Officer Aleksei Smyrnoi, we need to get you to the auxiliary command room. The standard protocol in case of ship unauthorized boarding."
" What? There's someone breaking into the ship?"
" Sir, I this is the only thing I was informed, so please hurry. Also, the ship internal communication is down so please stick together. We might encounter hostile movement on the way so I advise caution"
Hiroto was perplexed. This was totally unexpected, the G'xe looked willing to talk and it made no sense to start a war like this. So he ran, more out of curiosity than the dread of danger. The auxiliary command was packed with the chief staff all debating the next course of action
"Ah, Hiroto, we're glad you're ok"
​
"What is happening, why the communications are down?"
"There has a been a break in section 4, actually ... I don't know exactly if it's technically a breach since a group of individuals basically teleported inside and started to shoot. They are looking to break into the command room, but the security measures are holding, though we believe there's nothing stopping them ... to teleport? I really don't know how this works sir."
" Where are they now? And again why the communications are down?"
"They are engaging our forces into the corridor from section 4 to section 2 buffer zone. It seems at the moment it's a kind of a stalemate. Neither us or they are gaining ground. "
"The communications?!"
" The communications hub is near section 4. It was their first objective. We are working on with portable devices to communicate with the ground force."
​
Hiroto sighted, he wasn't reading for this. While there were tons of protocol in case of these situations and basic training, one thing is the simulations and one thing is the real deal.
"Outside chatter? What happened with the delegation"
"It seems their visit is fine, they were not informed yet of the situation. This is of course what we could find out with the limited communications from their media"
"This is extremely odd. Maybe the group here is independent. In that case, we need to be careful not to start a war ourselves. Prepare the ship to exit the atmosphere, we need to trap the attackers"
"Yes sir"
"Next, we need to try to communicate with them. Meanwhile please prepare a plan to assault them. Are there ear translators here? Prioritize communication first, maybe we can find out more."
After the orders were relayed, there were a few minutes of waiting. In the room that he was, there was no actual feeling of dread. It all felt normal. The lights were the usual white and it was relatively silent as everybody was doing their job. Then he felt a force pushing him into the floor as the ship took altitude.
"We can't establish communication with them, sir."
"The assault team is ready to engage?"
"Yes. If you want to proceed I advise it to do now, as I'm receiving word that the sudden ship descent made the attackers shoot more often an eratically"
"Very well, but we need at least one of them alive! I think they panicked, maybe they believed they could take over the ship faster"
The next moments were intense and Hiroto just wanted all this be over fast. He couldn't help but feel sad some of the men will die, you'd think a commander of a starship would make these decisions without remorse. He wondered though if his colleague commanders would feel the same as him.
​
The assault team swiftly deployed through maintenance shafts and after a brief exchange of fire, it was over. The room burst in applause.
"Sir, the threat has been eliminated. It was a complete success. 3 enemies were eliminated and we have 1 wounded and captive. The recon team has found no further threats. Should we descent"
"No" he then paused in order to catch a train of tought. "I need to interrogate the enemy first. If this the G'xe officials are behind this, we need to come out with an exit plan"
"Yes, sir"
​
He then proceeded to investigate the battleground. Only one soldier died in the exchange. That was a success ... he thought, whilst not convinced. It was a mess. The victims were all Onie, one of the 4 races of G'xe, but the captive was a X'a, the most powerful of the races in terms of influence. Onie bodies were frailer than humans and more filled with fat. It was everywhere. They lacked weapons, though some had a black stone. From what he read, it was just to focus their energy, as G'xe could channel energy from thin air and project it. Some would call magic, a deadly one taking one more look at the soldier's body bag where you could clearly see a gap between his upper and lower torso.
​
G'xe apparent lack of high tech was baffling for eath's science community. They seemed to use a form of magic, but little was known about this.
​
"Damn .." they were lucky, those guys didn't seem from the special forces, or whatever the equivalent the G'xe had.
​
============
**Continued in the comments due to Reddit Limit:** | 2019-01-18T10:36:05 | 2019-01-18T07:20:21 | 2,571 | 44 |
[WP] New technology allows courts to extract the memories from suspects to prove their guilt or innocence. The suspect permanently loses that memory. Conviction rates are nearly flawless. But no-one in jail knows why they are there... | *You deserve this*
Fifteen years I’ve stared at those words scrawled into my forearm. I remember as a kid writing notes all over my arms to remember things. I was forgetful like that. Sometimes I’d write in pen, sometimes in marker. Once I got a hold of a permanent marker, and man was my mother pissed. It didn’t go away for two weeks, despite several baths a day.
I’ve come to recognize my handwriting on my own skin.
And this was me. I guess I decided to compose in blade and blood instead of ink for this note because I wanted it to stick. I’d need the scars to shout at me to endure a lifetime in these dark cells.
Because if a man couldn’t trust himself, trust his own voice, what else is there?
I’ve seen inmates go insane protesting their innocence, or breaking their minds to reconcile their punishment with their spotless lives. Surprisingly, the sanest ones tend to be the career criminals who still have memories of the crimes that went uncaught and unpunished. At least they knew they were the scum of the earth.
I like to hold onto the good memories while I wait here. Like Caroline’s laugh. The memories of my wife are a sweet breath of fresh air in an otherwise stinking existence. The voices comfort me a little, but I’ve tuned most noises out.
Caroline hasn’t visited, though. I imagine seeing me in this jail cell is too hard to bear. Maybe if I make parole we’ll be reunited. I know she’d wait for me. She’s loyal like that, compassionate to a fault, even. With my broken childhood, it’s a miracle she fell in love with me at all. I know things were rocky toward the end, before the Blank, but she’s always come back. It will be the same when this is done.
I’d have gone crazy long ago if I hadn’t convinced myself that I was in here for a reason.
The scars tell me that. | Harry and Cob ambled through the prison's library bookshelves, holding a pile of books, ordering them accordingly.
"To Kill a Mockingbird." Cob's voice broke through the frail wood and slunk through the empty spaces of the shelves. "Heard great things about this one. Perhaps I will read it myself."
"Haven't read it, heard it was go--" A succesion of thuds broke his words and shortly after, a frail and papery sob cut through the noise of Cob's shoes moving through the creaking wood.
When Cob reached Harry, he found him weeping at the heart of a circle of fallen books. Tears trickled slowly yet steadily down Harry's cheeks, slid in the depths of his many wrinkles, lacquered the cataracts in his eyes.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Cob knelt beside him, resting his palm on Harry's shoulder.
The old man drew a deep breath. "I can't even hold a pile of books. I can't bare this anymore. I can't even hold a damned pile of books!" He paused for a moment, shook the anger away. "Forty years I've been locked in here. Forty years locked in a narrow cell, staring at the walls. Forty years, Cob. Forty years." The tears quickened, wetting his white shirt.
Cob sat beside him, embraced him, and remained quiet. There was nothing he could say.
"That's half a life, Cob," Harry said between sobs. His lips quivered upward, his eyes grew stern. "Half a life locked, caged like birds, in this ape-filled shithole, some of us for all our lives without knowing why. If I knew I murdered someone at least I could understand the punishment. I could grip to that fact, and this hell would at least have a reason to exist. I need to know I deserve it, Cob. I need to know what I did. There's no much time left in my clock, and what did I do with my life? I don't know. I don't remember. I only remember these walls. I can't bare it any longer, Cob. I--I can't." His wails returned, heavy and full of grief.
Cob drew Harry's head to his chest, gazed at the full, ever-glowing moon outside. "I know, Harry. I know."
Later that night, after Harry had calmed down, and the books were all in place, Cob left the library. "Will you shut the lights?"
"I will." Harry's voice and eyes were still distant, devoid of any true emotion. "Cob."
"Yes?"
"You are a good man."
"You too, Harry. Hope you will awake in a better place tomorrow." Cob said, and walked back to his cell.
Laying in the darkness of his bed, Cob scratched a new straight line on the wall with a coin.
When the ruddy glow of dawn feathered through the windows of the library, the lights were still on, yet no feet touched the ground.
--------------------------------------
r/NoahElowyn
| 2019-02-01T08:22:48 | 2019-02-01T07:08:57 | 2,122 | 392 |
[WP] My wife told me there was someone at the door. I asked if it was a penguin, and she was confused. I asked again, banging the table, if it was a penguin. She looked outside the window, and to her surprise, it was. I cocked my shotgun. So it begins. | I knew the horde was composed of several units and this one was almost certainly a scout, although it could have been a member of a small infantry unit posing as a scout while the rest of the unit waited close by for the sign to attack: the door cracking open, even if only just a bit.
In any case, there was no way to be sure, so it was time to start the protocol and keep the door firmly closed.
First things first, Melody, my wife started the fortification routine: the 12 locks, bolts and latches on each of our three doors on the main floor and sealing each window with a 2-and-a-half inch thick steel panel, hidden in electronically-powered units for quick deployment, installed on the left of each window for easy sealing at the touch of a button on the main floor.
For me, it's preparing the amuni---
Dammit, the lights went off.
I thought I had more time.
They must have learned from '02 to cut the power as soon as possible.
I'll have to leave the ammunition and go turn on the generator. I was going to take us off the main grid anyway, but not this soon. I grab the flashlight from it's fixture in the kitchen and head into the basement. Melody will find a flashlight on her own. We have a few of them fixed all over the house, so you'll never be far from one when you need one: like now.
It hits me halfway down the stairs, the anxiety.
We've rehearsed this a million times, I tell myself, we set up redundancy after redundancy, even if they get through, we'll have plenty to protect ourselves with.
I slap myself in the face. It doesn't help, but I pretend it did and try not to think about the feeling in my chest as I go on to the next step.
Disconnect the house from the grid. Hook up the generator. Turn on the generator. Check the power status. Not 100% but pretty close. Head back up stairs. Start bringing out the ammunition. Melody starts preparing it for easy reloading. Bring out the arms. Unlock the supplies cabinet; it's completely stocked and will last us about two weeks. Head back downstairs and start rerouting the plumbing to the septic tank and clean water tank. Head back upstairs.
We sit down and rest.
How long have the city sirens been on?
Melody is shaking.
"It won't be like '02," I say.
She looks at me. She doesn't believe me.
"I promise," I whisper.
We wait.
The military will start a counteroffensive as soon as they can, but until then, it's no man's land out here.
The penguins don't take prisoners.
| I ran for the shoe shelf where it hid, our only hope. The button to activate the super shelter I had installed when the house was built. We fell into darkness, all the windows covered by steel. I grabbed my flashlight and told Ella to follow. I led her to the basement. She stopped. As she pulled he hand free, her face a mask of confusion she demanded answers.
"I can't explain right now -it's not safe yet!" I had to get her moving.
"NO. Explain what the hell is going on why is there a penguin on our deck? Why the HELL are you scared of it. Forget the magic fortress our house just turned into for now."
I grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her along so we could at least move while I explained, "He's an assassin don't let his appearance fool you. He is called the Two Tone Pecker, he was probably contracted by Mr. Malone. If he gets his hands on us he'll have been told to make our death painful." We kept going down the staircase that felt like it never ended, I just hope Ella didn't ask why it didn't end long ago like it should have.
Above we heard and explosion and the ground felt unsteady. He let out a shriek that made me feel as though my ears were going to bleed. We kept running. I heard the sound, it took far to long for me to understand what it was, a fast slapping sound. It was the sound of the contractor sliding down the stairs on his belly. I fired a shell up the stairs blindly, the slapping continued.
"What can we do, where are we going, do these stairs end?"
"Just keep your eyes out for a blue mark on the right side of the wall dammit!"
I saw the mark before she did, it was the sign we were far enough away from the explosives I was about to detonate. He hit me then with that damn pecker of his, it was a dreadful feeling. I had never had a birds face up my ass before. I was sent flying down the stairs towards the floor we had been approaching.
He stood by my wife, somehow having the ability to use a gun and pointing it at her. What can I do, I can't do anything! Then it hit me if I just-
He handed her the gun.
"Uhg! Thank god the charade is over, I doubt I would have lasted another month with you Hank. You were growing so paranoid in these last few weeks. My name is NOT Ella by the way, you may call me Mrs. Pecker."
"I. I, I don't understand what's go-"
She started choking, what in gods name. A penguin came out of her mouth, A whole penguin! I'm cornered by the two, my emotions in a frenzy. I felt it then.
The loose floor board creaked under me, I slid forward feigning to beg for my life, for an explanation. I fumbled with my right foot trying to get that damn floor board out, there it goes. The penguins approached, I had to pretend to recoil in fear. As a reared back I placed my hand in the hole and a smile crept onto my face. The most wicked smile I have ever felt, and pulled the lever. The roof collapsed above the bastard and the penguin that had fooled me for so, so long. She reacted faster than her husband and was only crushed at the waist, the gun falling from her hands. I rushed for the gun. Pointing it at her I have to know, "Why? Why did you do this?"
She sneered and it was done. I left her to fend for herself as long as she could manage. I couldn't think about her any longer, I had to plan. Plan for what I was going to do to Mr. Malone. I'm going to give it to Mr. Malone good, really good... | 2019-02-08T21:55:18 | 2019-02-08T21:02:42 | 117 | 44 |
[WP] You're the unappreciated intern for a famous group of Superheroes. Your power? You can boil water. All you do is make tea for them while they laugh and drink in their hideout. Little do they know that you've got dreams of becoming the Worst Villain ever. After all, a human is over 70% water... | The Instant Kettle. That's what my "Super Heroic Temporary Title" is. Granted, I'm to blame for that, instead of properly explaining my power I decided to be a smart ass. So of course when they asked what my power was, I skipped answering that question in favor of the practical one. And I caused the water to boil in his mug.
Unfortunately, the superhero doing the interviews took my ability a little too literally. He assumed I could boil water in any vessel. Okay so that is technically true, but honestly he didn't even ask. So weeks later to when I making tea for some member of The Unified Justice Front, and not even getting a tip mind you, you could say I'm a bit.... Miffed. Now I've tried to bring up this situation to the proper channels, of course. Follow procedure and the bureaucracy of it all, play by the rules, yadda yadda. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY is listening. I signed up for a WORK Study program with today's leading heroes, not Café essentials 101.
I even had a costume specially made! Graphene filament embedded silk, super high thread count. Thing cost me $3000 dollars, a steal mind you, but not exactly petty cash. I was going to be called The Evaporator. Or maybe even Flash Boil. But no, that's apparently not who I'm SUPPOSED to be. Instead they just mock me, and say,
"Oh yes, grand idea, Insta-Ket(yes they even shorten my nickname), we'll keep that one right here, on the break room fridge, just like all the other good ideas."
Well, five months in and I'm officially tired of their sneering and condescending attitudes. These pricks are superhuman, and super dense.
See here's a 5th grade science question for you; how much water is in the human body? Chances are more than you would think.
Follow up question; how much water can I boil at once? Answer for that is, roughly, a public pool. And we're talking about instant boiling here.
So I hope you're paying VERY close attention to this letter, Mr. Ultra. Because if you decided to instead use it as a coaster.... Well that'd just be unfortunate. Because as of you receiving this letter, my declaration of war is sent, and I will be beginning my assault against this very branch within 20 minutes of the delivery.
Regards
..........
*There appears to have once been a hand signed signature and PS subject, but it is no longer legible through what appears to be a red and brown water stain*
Edit: This was a fun one. Check out the follow ups of myself and Orange_jucc (in the comments below) | “… basically it’s Super Kettle. You’re proposing Super Kettle.” the older executive said, rolling his eyes.
James looked around the stone-faced development executives. Finally he had gotten his shot at pitching
at a big studio – his lifelong dream, his chance at the big leagues – and he was screwing it up big time.
“Well, it’s not exactly like a kettle,” he said, unsure. “And he’s a villain, so technically it would be
Captain Kettle. Or Doctor Kettle.”
“This is ridiculous,” the exec looked around at the others. “Who invited this clown in?”
“He came highly recommended from one of the big agencies, sir” another exec said. “It's my bad, sorry.”
“No, but listen,” James insisted, panicking. “He can boil water, right? And he works for the heroes but
the heroes don’t take him seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah, so he becomes a villain that can… boil all the water in the world, I guess?” the older exec
said. “We heard it the first time.”
“But, see, the human body is more than half water, so his power really is to boil people alive!” James
insisted, looking around the room. “Don’t you see? It’s a very powerful… frightening… villain.”
The older exec leaned forward and sighed, like a patient parent. “James… we appreciate your eagerness
and your passion… but I don’t think this idea is for us.”
“Look, if you just listen –”
“There is a limit to how stupid superhero movies can get before audiences will stop watching them
altogether, James, trust me.”
“I mean, the most successful movie of all times is about a big purple man who wants to destroy half the
universe and can only be stopped by a big green man, a man dressed like the United States and a flying
billionaire,” another exec tried, shyly, from the back. “Maybe the kid has a –”
“Not now with the Marvel bashing, Seth, come on,” the older exec said, turning his back. He turned
again to face James. “Look, we appreciate the pitch, but Captain Kettle really isn’t for us. We respect
our audience’s intelligence.”
James sighed and turned back, defeated. He was about to reach the door when it came open to a young
suited man carrying a file. “Sir,” the man said, to the older exec. “We have the numbers for this
weekend’s box office.”
“Who’s leading, Mark?”
“It looks like DC hit gold with their Super Gas pic.”
“Super Gas?”
The man cleared his throat. “It’s a… it’s a superhero that… he turns stuff into gas. Like he turns threats
and villains and bombs and stuff into gas. But it smells really bad. And so he saves the world but everyone thinks he just farted so he doesn’t get recognition.”
“Dead God.”
“Made half a billion domestic already, sir.”
James went around the suited man and was about to leave when the old exec called: “Hey, you. Writer guy.
Wait.”
James turned. The old exec took in a deep breath. Looked around the room. “You know I helped
develop Fight Club and The Matrix, back in the 90s? I used to be respected in this business.” He paused again, then looked up at James: “You got yourself a deal, kid. Give me a draft of Captain Kettle in twelve weeks. Apparently I was wrong about superhero movies."
James smiled. The suited man nodded and was about to turn when the old exec called again: “And,
Mark?”
“Yes, sir?” the suited man said.
“Call DC. Tell them we have a boiling supervillain. See if they want to make a shared universe with
Super Gas.” | 2019-07-30T14:48:32 | 2019-07-30T14:45:31 | 965 | 63 |
[WP] You're the unappreciated intern for a famous group of Superheroes. Your power? You can boil water. All you do is make tea for them while they laugh and drink in their hideout. Little do they know that you've got dreams of becoming the Worst Villain ever. After all, a human is over 70% water... | I like tea, coffee too. I actually know a lot about either. If you asked me to explain the difference between a latte and a macchiato, I could do that. If you asked me what the difference between the taste of rose petals and rosebuds in tea, I could do that too. I could hold a lecture all about the *vast* difference between a cold brew and iced coffee that NO ONE seems to care about anymore, but that's a topic for another day.
I'm a superhero. Well, not really a hero mind you, more of just a super. Unless constantly making coffee counts as a heroic deed.
Five years ago, Hayden McIlroy put up a flier. Superheroes were emerging, and he wanted them. McIlroy made the Heros For Anthem City Program, aka the H.F.A.C. A program for local heroes to gather and do stuff. No one knows really what they were doing at the start, but they were doing *something* because heroes with titles came around. And they had sidekicks. The Swift told me that in the beginning, the best of the best became "Title Hero's". McIlroy paid for them to be marketed. Names like Diamond Maiden and Thunderman. They got the cool outfits, they got the theme songs and comic books. The weaker Title Heroes had sidekicks, like Vulpes Lupus, Shark, and most every other hero out there. If you had cool powers, then you were paid to be a villain. No killing or horrible damage, just a show. Take a volunteer hostage and threaten them or something to entertain the people.
And the others? Just like me. No special names. We just go around and run errands. If you're a hero fanatic, you'd know all the Title Heros and sidekicks that work for H.F.A.C. But not us, not me.
The Swift seems to be the only hero who respects us. I'd call her by her real name, but she said it died a long time ago. She said she was like me, young with new powers and no idea what to do. She came to H.F.A.C. after some young villain had killed her family. It was an actual villain, not one of the flimsy shows McIlroy paid for. They put her in my spot.
I don't know how she did it, though. She was a nameless nobody. Some teenager who could do a few flips like the rest of us. But somehow she makes a nemesis of the only villain out there who isn't being paid by H.F.A.C. Tyto Noctis.
No one was making comics about him. No one was waiting to see what his next evil plan would be. Anthem City feared him, like, actually feared him. No one wanted to touch him but a stupid teenager. Tyto Noctis and The Swift go missing for six months and she returns a Title Hero, Tyto trailing at her heels like he's on some sort of leash. Both apparently unable to be killed.
She tells me I can make my way up the ladder just like she did, I just need to work hard. I respect The Swift, but I'm nothing like her.
Tyto Noctus was a failure. He was defeated by a flimsy teenager. I'm not like The Swift, sure, but I'm not like Tyto either. I'm not like the Title Heroes and sidekicks that snicker when they pound their empty cups on my desk when they beg and plead for hotter tea, mocking me. I'm not like Hayden McIlroy and his obsession with collecting heroes.
The pipes will be struck first, scalding anyone who even thinks of turning the faucet on. Then slowly the water towers, I'll watch their pressure rise with anticipation. Then, weather permitting, the rain. Anyone who even dares to live then will just have to have their organs deliciously steamed from the inside-out.
I am The Boiler, and I'm the only real villain Anthem City is going to ever see.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
thank you for reading! critisims is appreciated :D
<3<3<3
\-froppy | As I make tea for those scumbags, I start to think of different plans. While waiting for the tea to boil my plans are narrowed to two. They both boiled down to one concept. Boiling them all alive. When finished, I bring the tea down to them all. Being as agitated as I was, I had plopped it down and sat away from them. As I sit there, I think of which plan to do. *Should I combine the plans?* I think to myself.
"Hey, boiling woman!" I hear from one of them. "Get us more tea!"
"Why don't ya do it yerself," I ask, obviously annoyed. I have a strong Irish accent and appearance.
"You're the tea girl! Go do it!" Another adds.
I roll my eyes as I get up and strut out of hangout. I don't go get tea, though, I gather my things and walk out of the door. I walk for around ten minutes before I bump into a villain. *Perfect*, I think to myself with a smile. They were lugging around some type of bag, most likely money to buy things for their mechanic, North. North is a small, brown-haired girl. She's fairly young for a villain, she's only sixteen. Desperate to talk, I follow behind him. I needed to join them, it would be the only reasonable option to get my way.
When he stops at the door, the gang is there to make sure he got everything or if he needed help. The others notice me and ask me a few questions as to why I followed their buddy home. I explain how I work for the superheroes and that I can join them and give them as much information as they need to best those guys. After a few minutes of discussing, they agree to let me join for time being, but it was mostly because they need more info on their enemies.
They sit me down to talk about what I do, as they couldn't just have me doing nothing. I said that I boil water, but I can still be of help, even if it seems like a useless power. I talk about my little plan with them.
"So...You have a 'plan'? What is it, exactly?"
"Well, to start, humans are made up of seventy percent water, correct? Well, if I can boil water, and humans have water in 'em, I can boil those bastards alive."
As I end the sentence, I look around at them. They all seem so intrigued at that idea. Maybe this is my chance to prove myself to somebody important to me and not just be thrown away as 'tea girl.'
"Hm...Give us a minute to discuss, will you?"
"Absolutely. Take all the time you need to decide. I will be waiting here for your decision."
I sit still and examine the table I sit at as they talk. It seems to be covered in cigarette ash and food stains. *Whatever,* I think, *they aren't that bad so far. At least they aren't treating me like some type of slave that those other guys did. I swear I could get PTSD from them.*
"Hey!" I hear. I look up. It's North. "You're in. I'm North. What do we call you?"
Ah...A question I haven't heard in years. What did I use to call myself? Annette? That was it, yes.
"Call me Annette."
"Alright. Welcome aboard, Annette. Our attack is tomorrow, we'll be visiting you in your room here quite a lot tonight, so be ready."
"Gotcha, North. Where is my room anyway?"
"Right over there." She points to a shiny door. "You share a room with me, so expect to hear some metal clinks."
"Alright. See you in there."
I walk inside the room to relax for the time I get. About five minutes pass and they come in, asking all sorts of questions about the guys. I answer to the best of my ability, and when they have enough information to evade, they leave, letting me sleep. After a few minutes of think, I pass out.
I wake up in the morning to a knocking at the door. North and I open the door, getting ready to leave. I get to lead something for once in my life, so I'm very excited about this mission. Once everyone has everything prepared, we head out. We get to where the heroes are within five minutes and they spot me.
"Hah! YOU'RE fighting US?" I hear one of them blurt out. "This'll be easy, boiler girl."
"That's what you guys think," I say as I stare them down. Soon enough, they're coming for me. Before they can even touch me, I boil one. He starts to break down and everyone freaks out. Water and blood burst out of him, splattering everything. I stand there with a straight face, staring the rest down. I go up to the nearest one and poke near his intestines where his water is stored. He dies the same, painful way. I get the others before they can even try to get away from me. I've had enough of them, and I finally have a team like myself. I've waited to this for almost half my life, even if I'm 25. I ignorantly joined them when I was almost 15, thinking I would help them so much.
I'm finally done. I've gotten my way. I've my team.
I've got ***myself.*** | 2019-07-30T16:15:31 | 2019-07-30T16:02:12 | 29 | 13 |
[WP] You're the unappreciated intern for a famous group of Superheroes. Your power? You can boil water. All you do is make tea for them while they laugh and drink in their hideout. Little do they know that you've got dreams of becoming the Worst Villain ever. After all, a human is over 70% water... | It didn't start this way, and I certainly didn't want it to end this way. In the beginning, I was excited for the opportunity. Who wouldn't be estatic to be around their heroes? I thought my dreams had come true - it was a path to my destiny, but ultimately the Crusaders' nightmare.
I showed signs around the normal timeframe. Once a month from 2nd to 10th grade, our teachers would send our class to the gym. Sciolios check, SUP test, eyes checked, the stuff every kid goes through. I've heard of some kids exceeding on a SUP test past 10th grade, but they typically have little power. You know, the guy who says he can control electricity and flickers the lights for the ladies, but she finds out that's max strength the next morning and bounces.
I exceeded on my test in 8th grade, and my parents bought a house 5x the size not a week later. No pressure, am I right? Not everyone is a meal ticket, not everyone makes the Crusaders, but they bet it all. I was lucky enough to get into Prestige "the Harvard of Training HighSchools," where I developed my distaste for the legacies.
Oh, your great grandma was HawkLady and every woman has followed in her footsteps, you've already secured a spot with Crusaders? How nice for you.
You don't say, HammerClaw is your uncle and you've been training with Justice Team since you were a child? No shit, you aren't stressed about graduation (if you like a B team, I mean...)
I had to earn my spot, and I earned my internship. I followed the rules then, I was honest, I worked hard. I wanted to be one of them, and I was excited to find a mentor - help me find my way! How can I use my powers for good? Should I travel the world boiling dirty water in rural areas? Or could I do more to fight crime somehow?
But that isn't what happened. See, what they told tell you on the news is, many of your favorite superheros, they are assholes. They are aggressive arrogant and antagonist. Rich dicks never put in their place because of their powers. Imagine your childhood bully can now hit 10x as hard, or turn invisible to depants you (or watch you change, ladies. Yah, I know of at least one who has done it, hes famous and you probably idolize him, too.)
On my first day, they threw away the coffee pot and put my chair in the spot. I wasn't allowed to speak, I could only say beep when a coffee was ready. Apparently the hot water heater was fairly weak, so the next week several Crusaders had me heating up water tanks before showers.
It was also around the first few days that my stress and humiliation got the better of me. Walking home, I was so angry. SO ANGRY! They thought so little of me. I was thinking of my hatred when I heard the rat screaming. I didnt want to harm a living thing, I swear, it happened so quickly.
I tried to control my anger, I tried to reach out for help, and I looked at different agencies, but then it happened. Patronizing behavior at the Crusaders I could ignore, but the harassment escalated. Some days it would be telling me how weak and pathetic I am, other days my food getting thrown away in front of me. The day I snapped, that old fuck Warrior, he had the audacity to grab my crotch. Right there, out in the open, in front of all the other Sups.
I broke. Right there like a snap. His scream was a lot like the rats. I felt arms grabbing at me, but I don't remember it really. I had tunnel vision on his twisting face, which screams roared through the cafeteria. The smell, that was tough. Dozens of bodies with the liquid evaporating out, cooking their organs. I didnt mean to kill them all, but it happened so quickly.
After an incident like that, I didnt have a choice. Even a B team like Justice Team isn't going to take a person whose killed what, 15 people? Sups to boot. I know what they are all thinking too - How do you take down someone who killed the most Sups singlehandedly BY MISTAKE.
So, then I have to think. My parents put EVERYTHING on my success, and I'm an only child so I have to take care of them. How much are people willing to pay so I don't destroy oceans? How much would they pay to keep their drinking water?
Maybe the better question, how much would a government pay me to destroy another country's water. | As I make tea for those scumbags, I start to think of different plans. While waiting for the tea to boil my plans are narrowed to two. They both boiled down to one concept. Boiling them all alive. When finished, I bring the tea down to them all. Being as agitated as I was, I had plopped it down and sat away from them. As I sit there, I think of which plan to do. *Should I combine the plans?* I think to myself.
"Hey, boiling woman!" I hear from one of them. "Get us more tea!"
"Why don't ya do it yerself," I ask, obviously annoyed. I have a strong Irish accent and appearance.
"You're the tea girl! Go do it!" Another adds.
I roll my eyes as I get up and strut out of hangout. I don't go get tea, though, I gather my things and walk out of the door. I walk for around ten minutes before I bump into a villain. *Perfect*, I think to myself with a smile. They were lugging around some type of bag, most likely money to buy things for their mechanic, North. North is a small, brown-haired girl. She's fairly young for a villain, she's only sixteen. Desperate to talk, I follow behind him. I needed to join them, it would be the only reasonable option to get my way.
When he stops at the door, the gang is there to make sure he got everything or if he needed help. The others notice me and ask me a few questions as to why I followed their buddy home. I explain how I work for the superheroes and that I can join them and give them as much information as they need to best those guys. After a few minutes of discussing, they agree to let me join for time being, but it was mostly because they need more info on their enemies.
They sit me down to talk about what I do, as they couldn't just have me doing nothing. I said that I boil water, but I can still be of help, even if it seems like a useless power. I talk about my little plan with them.
"So...You have a 'plan'? What is it, exactly?"
"Well, to start, humans are made up of seventy percent water, correct? Well, if I can boil water, and humans have water in 'em, I can boil those bastards alive."
As I end the sentence, I look around at them. They all seem so intrigued at that idea. Maybe this is my chance to prove myself to somebody important to me and not just be thrown away as 'tea girl.'
"Hm...Give us a minute to discuss, will you?"
"Absolutely. Take all the time you need to decide. I will be waiting here for your decision."
I sit still and examine the table I sit at as they talk. It seems to be covered in cigarette ash and food stains. *Whatever,* I think, *they aren't that bad so far. At least they aren't treating me like some type of slave that those other guys did. I swear I could get PTSD from them.*
"Hey!" I hear. I look up. It's North. "You're in. I'm North. What do we call you?"
Ah...A question I haven't heard in years. What did I use to call myself? Annette? That was it, yes.
"Call me Annette."
"Alright. Welcome aboard, Annette. Our attack is tomorrow, we'll be visiting you in your room here quite a lot tonight, so be ready."
"Gotcha, North. Where is my room anyway?"
"Right over there." She points to a shiny door. "You share a room with me, so expect to hear some metal clinks."
"Alright. See you in there."
I walk inside the room to relax for the time I get. About five minutes pass and they come in, asking all sorts of questions about the guys. I answer to the best of my ability, and when they have enough information to evade, they leave, letting me sleep. After a few minutes of think, I pass out.
I wake up in the morning to a knocking at the door. North and I open the door, getting ready to leave. I get to lead something for once in my life, so I'm very excited about this mission. Once everyone has everything prepared, we head out. We get to where the heroes are within five minutes and they spot me.
"Hah! YOU'RE fighting US?" I hear one of them blurt out. "This'll be easy, boiler girl."
"That's what you guys think," I say as I stare them down. Soon enough, they're coming for me. Before they can even touch me, I boil one. He starts to break down and everyone freaks out. Water and blood burst out of him, splattering everything. I stand there with a straight face, staring the rest down. I go up to the nearest one and poke near his intestines where his water is stored. He dies the same, painful way. I get the others before they can even try to get away from me. I've had enough of them, and I finally have a team like myself. I've waited to this for almost half my life, even if I'm 25. I ignorantly joined them when I was almost 15, thinking I would help them so much.
I'm finally done. I've gotten my way. I've my team.
I've got ***myself.*** | 2019-07-30T17:21:26 | 2019-07-30T16:02:12 | 20 | 13 |
[WP] Humans have the reputation of being both an extremely dangerous species and social creatures that are easy to bond with, making them great crew members for voyagers. You and your shipmates are worried about your newly recruited human because you don't know what an introvert is.
Inspired by various "Humans are space orcs" posts from tumblr. I reposted this to change some minor grammar errors | "It's rather... cute."
"Yes, and it only cost around 7,500 Orxian credits. Not bad for a human, but... it's been acting a bit strange."
The traveling scientists stared through the monitoring panel at their new crew member. They had permitted him to bring a bag of personal memorabilia, and right now he was staring at a strange leather-bound document.
"Strange how?" Allorph asked. It had heard the stories of the strange behaviors of humans, but it was hard to draw the line between fact and fiction.
"Well, look at what it is reading. Not only is the literature physically manifest in such a crude manner, but the *content* of it is astonishing as well. There are brutal instances of... decapitation, strangulation-"
"You need not continue," Zorph said, interrupting. "Why would a sentient creature be interested in that sort of vulgar material?"
The human shifted in its seat, looking nervously around the room as though he knew he was being watched.
"Well, apparently their whole species is like that. Not only are they apex predators, but they sometimes *actively enjoy* the act of killing. In fact, they only reached out into space in the first place because they were in a military race to reach their satellite. They may never have progressed if not for their violent tendencies." This perplexed Zorph, of course. "But this one is especially strange. As I am sure you are aware, humans need social connections."
"Yes, of course," Allorph agreed. "They are still too primitive to reach a hive-mind state, and their current global communication system is not even attached to their biology yet, so they must verbally communicate with others using their meat flaps. It's rather depressing."
"That's right Allorph, but this human is different. It has made brief communication with the captain, perhaps out of a sense of social obligation, but it immediately asked for the location of its quarters. It then shut itself off, and for the next few days, it has done nothing but stare at that glyph-inscribed tree sheet and, about once every twelve hours, go into a strange brainwave state where it loses all consciousness."
Allorph looked confused. "So this being requires social connection, but dislikes it? And it takes pleasure in reading that leather-bound death book?"
"That's right, Al. Most strange indeed." Zorph paused for a few moments. "Allorph, observe! The human has finished its collection of tree sheets!"
As the human turned the last page, he let out a long sigh, looking at the one-way glass wall, almost making direct eye contact with its captors on the other side. "If you asshats don't give me an internet connection, I swear I'm going to fucking kill you all."
Allorph gasped. "By the stars," it whispered. "The tales are true. Gods save us." | "CHEERS! we shouted as we clanked our glasses together, it was all we could do to end the eerie silence, but the Human still sat there.
He sat there sipping his small glass of bourbon and giving us a meek, faintly-interested smile now and then. We had been excited to pick up our first human, tales of their legendary deeds, abnormal customs and strong personalities had spread across the galaxy since the first joined the Galactic Council... but to be honest, this one was a bit of let down - he was boring.
Our human had now been on the ship for a total of 6 hours as we travelled from Terra 2, where we found him, to the LV-112 Space Station. It took one hour to get him to tell his name, John, and another two hours to get him to have a drink. At first, Doctor Xarl had been concerned he had a touch of the Yula Space Plague, but after a few quick scans which came back sound, he told us he was simply 'being polite.'
Hol reached over to him and pinched at his arm, the tendrils from her head shivered a little with anticipation."So, come on! Tell us something about yourself! What's Earth like? What's a Dab? What's a truffle?"Hol rambled on trying to get a response, but after every question John simply smiled, gave out a small smile, a shrug and if we were lucky, he said aword or two but it would always then return to erie silence.
John stood up and retired to his room, Doc after some messing around his databases of Earth, said this was probably to 'recharge'. Hol's gleaming smile dissapated into a small smirk and she left the common room, I followed her.
"So what do you think?" I asked her.
"He's a little quiet... I thought he looked quite intriguing with the suit and everything."
"I know, maybe he's just settling in. After we collect this bounty, he's sure to feel part of the team."
A couple of hours later we touched down at LV-112, a bounty of a million credits were awaiting us, but it wasn't going to be easy. Maximillian Llewlyn Darkwater was a mastermind criminal, he had completed annexed the LV-112 into a stronghold and we had spent about 300,000 credits simply on weapons and ammunition to get to the guy. Our info reports had told us he had about 100 men between us and him, and we were only seven.
I stepped out first, the cold steel of the Space Station floor radiated up my leg. Captain Walker stepped out behind me, followed by the rest of the crew including John who had now abandoned his bourbon for a pair of blaster pistols."Strange. No-one tried to stop us coming in and no signs of life in here either." said Walker as he glanced around the Hangar.
We continued throughout the maze-like Space Station, it was completely empty. Barbed wire and boxes of mines, ammo and various weaponry from around the galaxy were strewn about as if they had been preparing for us, but there was not a soul to be soon. We decided to press on to the Bridge, where Maximillian would surely be if he was still here, at the very least we could get some clues.
The doors to the Bridge swished open slowly and Maximillian sat there, facing us. His eyes were red and puffy, and a large cigar hung from a tired mouth.
"So you're here. You finally came."
"We thought you'd put a little resistance Max, heard you were a tough one." Walker said cockily, as always.
"Not you."
The group looked at each other for here, heads swaying to and fro in confusion, until we finally realised he was talking about John.
"Him? The Earth-Man?"
"The boogeyman." Maximillian stated, and with that, John raised his blasters and shot him twice. First in the stomach, then in the head. | 2019-11-17T10:04:40 | 2019-11-17T09:40:59 | 34 | 18 |
[WP] At the age of 13 children are able to summon their familiars for the first time. Your family has a history of ridicule for their weak and useless familiars. Until your 13th birthday. | I already knew it was going to be the worst birthday ever.
My birthday was late, which meant most of the other kids at school already had their familiars. Just last week, Valerie had summoned an actual unicorn - and Justin's polar bear was amazing as well.
My family didn't get things like unicorns or polar bears. My family got... well... stupid things. My mother had a hamster. My older brother had a bumblebee. Dad had a whale, which seemed cool until you realized that we lived in the mountains. He didn't summon it very often.
So there I was, thirteen years old, sitting glumly by the fire pit, trying to pretend I was invisible. It didn't work, of course. My family is not known for their invisibility.
"Just go ahead, sweetheart." Mom's voice was pretty soothing - it usually was. "Come on. I know how you feel, but at least it'll be done with. Then we'll light the candles, okay?"
Yeah... that'd be okay. She was right. I could just get this over with, and then it would be birthday candles and other cool stuff. I nodded, and drew a breath, blowing at the smoke in the fire pit, and muttering the ritual incantation, accurately if enthusiastically.
My familiar appeared in front of me. It was... kind of squishy looking. And mostly pinkish? Except it had weird fur in parts, and metal on other parts, and it was holding something in its front paws and pointing it at my mom. She looked... uh. She actually looked scared.
"Mom?" My voice trembled a little. "What *is* it?"
"That's a human, sweetie. And it's got a gun." | The summoning of familiars was supposed to be a very public affair, with the important people in the village ready to congratulate the child in case of a successful summoning. After all, they really could boost the village in more than one ways.
That wasn't the case with Joel, Indeed, only his family surrounded him and his ritual circle. His father kept giving him encouraging looks. His mother looked torn between hopeful and resigned.
A neighbour walking down the street looked inside the fence, noticed the circle, scoffed, and continued moving.
This did very little to Joel's already dwindling confidence. But he had promised himself that he would at least try, so he steeled his nerves and continued making the runes on the circle. After another half an hour of laborious work, it was finally time.
He sat cross legged, eyes shut, at the centre of the circle and spoke the marked lines from his book.
And waited.
Waited some more.
He finally opened his eyes.
He couldn't see any new creature.
Tears welled up in his eyes. At least all the others in his family had a familiar... He didn't expect to be such a big disappointment.
He jerkily stood up, wiping his eyes with his sleeves in a vain attempt to stop the tears from spilling.
Then he felt a pull.
Well, more like the very air around him shifted, making him stop.
He looked around wildly, trying to spot anything.
Must have been a breeze, he thought morosely.
He shook his head and made to move forward, when the air stopped him again.
His eyes widened, could he afford to hope... "Where are you?" he asked.
The wind swirled around him.
"I... can't see you."
There was a pause, where all movement of air stopped. And then he started seeing the air coalescing into a denser and thicker shape... a cloud?
"Wow!"
The cloud continued to take shape, swirling and mixing with itself in a constant influx. It finally settled into the shape of a white bunny.
Joel whooped in joy, closed his eyes, quickly picked up the bunny in his arms, and started jumping around. He ignored the shouts of his family. He finally had a good familiar. No more bullying. No more sneers from his classmates.
And then, eyes still closed, he realised the voices of his family were calling him... from far away.
He opened his eyes.
Then promptly closed them.
He counted to 3, and then opened them again.
He was staring at his village from a height of several hundred feet.
He panicked for a moment, then remembered his familiar.
"Could you help me get back down?" he asked the bunny still clutched in his arms.
The bunny rubbed his head in his arm, probably giving a yes, and re was gently floated down to his family, who, he was glad to see, looked very worried.
As soon as he touched the ground, he ran and embraced his parents.
Already, today was looking to be rather memorable. | 2020-04-05T12:46:53 | 2020-04-05T11:56:36 | 59 | 22 |
[WP] You were born with a ability to see the true forms of monsters. Vampires look like giant ugly bats, Werewolves and Skinwalkers are hideous humanoid dogs, Ghouls walking rotting corpses and so on. Then one day as you were walking down the street, you saw an angel. | “Whatever you do, don’t scream.”
Growing up, I used to tell myself that every day, almost like a mantra. I realised early on that I saw things other people didn’t. One of my earliest memories was when I was about six years old. My mother was holding my hand, getting ready to cross a road. But on the other side, was the most hideous-looking creature. She had leathery, pale grey skin and talons the size of my head (at the time). As my eyes rose towards her face, I could see her upper body transition from leather to fur. The fur was matted with a dark, sticky substance, but I could no longer ignore her face. Her face… it still haunts my dreams. Her eyes were blacker than the night around us, framed by marred, angular sockets. Her foamy mouth curled upwards in a terrifying smirk, revealing her pointed teeth. I screamed.
My mother didn’t know what I was seeing, but she sensed the danger when the lady across the street came running towards us. It all happened so quickly. The creature made a beeline towards me, snarling. My mother blocked her path as best she could, shouting at me to run away as the creature began to tear into her flesh.
I’ve been running ever since.
I learned over the years that if I didn’t acknowledge them, they left me alone. Of course, I slipped up a few times and things got a little ugly, but I always managed to cover my tracks. There was that one time in Stamford, a ghoul caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but gag a little at his rotting smell. He followed me to the small alleyway beside the public library, so I took the chance to dispatch him. It took weeks before I could smell anything else again. Lucky for me, the monsters never seem to have officially documented lives, so they weren’t missed.
There was also something they all had in common: they were always ugly as hell, the stuff of nightmares. But this one was different.
First I saw his wings, you couldn’t miss them, they were huge. What I mistook as a kind of aura, was the light of the sun reflecting from his white wings onto his skin. I wasn’t sure if it was the reflected light playing with my eyes, but it seemed like his skin shifted in shades like a kaleidoscope, never settling on one tone. If his wings and skin never gave him away, his eyes would have. They were a little unnerving to look at, but I couldn’t stop staring. It was like looking into pools of molten gold, baring the very depths of my soul. He was beautiful, but I could also sense danger.
He stopped in front of me.
“After all this time, I have finally found you.” | A beautiful lady for certain.
Fair skin, pale blonde hair, a pair of crystal clear, sky blue eyes, soft, almost angelic features.
A sight to behold.
Yet, I was overcome by curiosity.
*Is she as good as she looks?*
I was born with 2 pairs of eyes - my physical, boring grey eyes and my Sight.
I can see the true nature of beings. An aura standing behind them.
Like Vampires. Some are ugly, oversized bats, others, the rare ones, quite pretty humanoids with bat wings sprouting from their backs and fangs decorating their mouths.
Werewolves and skinwalkers - a horrible mix of the wolf and the man, quite like Remus Lupin's transformation in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Sometimes, they're their selves, only with wolf tails and ears, like some kind of anime beastkin.
Ghouls seemed the tamest, with but a bit of rot here and there as well as greyish skin.
Demons were - well, demons. Almost no surprise there except around a third of them being extremely good-looking underneath their human skin costume.
Nymphs seemed to be made out of plants, water and a dash of air, overall not as terrible as most.
But what I saw when I opened my second eyes and peeked at the beauty before me...
A horrifying monstrosity with a deformed male body with 4 arms, 3 screaming female heads and 6 wings sprouting from its back. All of it deformed just enough to look horrifying.
I remembered the tales my grandma used to tell me - of angels, beings so beautiful it hurt on the outside, yet terrible monstrosities inside.
Some were kind. Some were cruel. But all of them were terrors to behold.
*"Look away when you see one,"* she used to tell me, *"or you will be tainted by the sight. You may never rest in peace if you are, never move on. Always, you will be reborn, and always, you will remember, be haunted by their Aura. And the more you see, the more you will become the worst abomination of them all."*
So I looked away.
Or I tried to.
But she had noticed.
She gazed at me and smirked, her aura's faces twisting in a horrific manner.
She was an evil one.
I tried to look away but I couldn't.
Closing my eyes but I still saw her, and my Soul shifted, it tore something vital apart, and I was human no more...
She let go and I pulled away at lightning speed.
I closed my second eyes, despite knowing it was too late.
The Seraph Angel smirked cruelly as she exited the bar.
I ran home, disregarding my goal to get a job as a barmaid for that day in favor of looking at myself in the mirror to see what had changed.
I looked at myself and saw the same girl with dirty blonde hair, average features and boring grey eyes.
Except my eyes weren't so grey anymore. Instead of the dull grey, they were now a few shades lighter, brighter, a still dull, yet distinctly silver, not grey, eyes.
I opened my second pair and gasped.
What had once been an exact copy of my physical form was now way paler, eyes glowing faintly, hair going black. Features just a bit sharper, different, almost pretty. My small, average body taller, thinner.
I looked like what pop culture portrayed vampires as, almost.
Quite pretty, but terrifying.
Faint black most seemed to sleep out of and back into me subtly.
But what truly made the reality set in was the shabby, all-wooden scythe I was holding in my hand.
"Oh, *no.No, no, no, no, no, no NO-"*
I fainted. | 2020-05-09T03:05:46 | 2020-05-09T02:36:03 | 273 | 79 |
[WP] The first and greatest superhero and villain of all time respectively were said to have killed each other in combat. Decades later the current greatest supervillain is instantly annihilated upon threatening an elderly couple outside their remote cottage, and the truth becomes known | >**FIRES OF LOVE**
Incredible flames roared, turning entire forests into cinders over just a few brief moments.
Mountains of rock and iron rose and fell, as the hearts of each catastrophe grew closer and closer to one another-
The ground shattered. The fires rose up to the high heavens.
The two embraced.
Hidden within the near apocalyptic-scale damage, Tristan, the most beloved hero, held Cinder in his arms.
"It's okay. I understand." He said, as her rage began to abate, and her shoulders began to shake with sobs.
He pulled her closer, and she collapsed into his chest. "I learned about...what happened, in the lab. I know why you're doing what you're doing. It's okay. They're gone, now. Let's move on from this, together."
A few days later, the most daring news crew finally attempted to traverse the ruined terrain- and found the bodies. Their fight had been on proportions that the world had never even dreamed of- and, though they mourned the loss of the hero, they also breathed a sigh of relief that those two, with their nearly limitless powers, would no longer be able to hold entire countries hostage on a whim if they so desired.
It felt like the end of an era. Every hero from that point forward felt like a shadow compared to Tristan- and every villain would have been nothing but an ember compared to Cinder's flames.
Until the day came when they found out the bodies were fake.
Villains, by the dozen, began to scour the globe, hoping to force Cinder out of retirement- and, eventually, one villain with a supernatural ability to track people found where she was.
As they approached, massive walls of steel rose and blocked their path- and behind that, a heat- a heat unlike anything they had ever known threatened to burst forth.
Cinder's voice, though crackling with age, came forward. "I know why you have come. I know you seek my power, my guidance."
A hush fell over the gathering crowds of villains.
"My only power now is for defending this place. My only guidance is to learn to forgive. If you do not leave now, you will learn that sometimes, forgiveness comes *after* revenge."
Only one fool made the mistake of pressing her. His ashes blew into the ocean.
Within the cottage, Tristan lay on his bed, unable to move. Age had worn him down worse than it had Cinder...but his powers were, arguably, the best they had ever been. "Heh. I've been practicing this whole time... but for you- well. That's the first time you've done more than heat a pot of tea since *that day*. And you're still so much stronger than me. You really were playing nice with me, back then, weren't you?"
"Hush, my lovely idiot. I wanted you to win." | It happened so quickly.
I couldn’t help myself, it finally overwhelmed me beyond my control. Balance has shifted to equilibrium. That fateful day so many years ago...
It was dark and rainy, Thunder echoed in the distance. I, the part of me that was Doctor Z, had just stepped onto cold wet rooftop where my ship was waiting. I hefted the bag full of my ill gotten gains when suddenly from below, a crack louder than any lightning strike followed by a blast that knocked me off my feet struck. I scrambled to regain my senses, looking up just in time to see my old foe.
I rushed to the scene the moment I heard the alarm, it took a little longer than normal as I was.. I was at work.. half way across the globe, that’s right. I remember more each day, as The Mighty Man I had an obligation to help all in need! I rushed to the scene, and arrived as my nemesis had just emerged from a door of the rooftop! No doubt he had pilfered some special something for a nefarious purpose, I needed a surprise. No doubt he would be prepared for an orbital assault, but maybe from below I can... can..
Everything is so weird. I know things I shouldn’t, smarter and faster. I was so confused after it happened. Either I shot a blaster with some.. some.. or I think I had decided to save my... self? From a reaction of some kind. Shock. That’s the most prominent thing I remember, part of me was shocked at what was happening but the other was just worried about.. me?
My memories aside, I decided while I sort this out, I’d live out of harms way. I slowly through the years began to notice all of my abilities, super strength and such. There was an ability that scared and excited me, a odd revulsion and yet giddy excitement. I had some sort of beam of power, pure destructive power.
My body was slowly acclimating to only what I can assume was new powers. I had, for the most part, controlled my powers and chaos of my mind through meditation and focus. I had invested in creating an inner peace to quell and help me find myself, whoever that was.
The scream was sudden, I was sleeping soundly for once. A new power? Sonic hearing.. old, just manifest at the worst time. The voice belonged to an old woman who lived down the street, the scream sounded like she was in the next room. I rushed without thinking, Mighty took the lead. That part of me was so hard to suppress, which put me in this position. Assess the situation, make a plan, that’s Z. I arrived at a the little cottage at the end of the street, some ne’er-do-well... focus! Some clown in a advanced mechanical enhancement suit was threatening a little old lady. Practice, this kind of vile creativity was the work of a good super villain. Find a nice little nowhere place with, ideally, an old couple or older people. Test new equipment and weapons on live targets, but I guess he didn’t know I was here. I just couldn’t help it, without warning the part of me that was Doctor Z was so much stronger than I ever realized. Maybe I wasn’t as balanced as I thought or may the situation was beyond my ability. It was maniacal joy, my body moved with purpose and I felt the jolt and the power surge through me. A wild grin spread across my face as the power blazing from me annihilated my foe with ease.
I was panting.. no, I was laughing. A sadistic, vile laughter. I glanced around, a swath of charred earth and trees was cut out from the surrounding green with an intact cottage and shivering old woman. I saw some minor footman run away, did I sound like Z? Did I look like Mighty? The laughter... will others figure out what happened that day? What do I do now... am I a hero or a villain? | 2020-09-02T11:12:50 | 2020-09-02T11:10:42 | 128 | 22 |
[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" | "LETHAL INJECTION ADMINISTERED," came the automated voice from just underneath the button.
I blinked. Was that it?
"Wait, hold on," I paused and turned towards the priest, "You meant I just spent the last 18 years of my life training for the ultimate showdown just so the greatest evil in the universe could be killed with a few chemicals?"
"Yep," the priest, Dogstar, stretched, "Now that that's over with, do you want to get some breakfast?"
"In a second," I held up hands, stopping everything, "Was that just a test? A trick? Is he really just going to come bursting from the ground and doom us all to hell?"
Dogstar glanced at the ground, considering it, "I doubt it."
I shook my head in disbelief, "No, no, no. I want an explanation. Now!"
The priest rolled his heads and sat down, pulling a flask from his pocket. He took a quick drink then gazed at me with slight contempt. I had a feeling this might take awhile.
"Now look, when this all started hundreds of thousands of years ago, sure it was cool and tough. Quite the spectacle, honestly. The Dark Lord would put on his demonic cloak, cast hellfire meteors at everyone, and it would be absolute chaos. But, his powers didn't really count on the power of industrialization," Dogstar sighed.
"You've gotta be kidding me," I groaned.
"So we thought, 'hey, why not just put him down before he regenerates his body in his tomb, save everyone the trouble?' Now we just kill him before he wakes up."
"And all the training?"
"Well the boys and I like to have a little fun. How boring would it be if all we did was press a button every 5000 years? Sheesh. Liven up."
Unable to process any words, I took a seat next to Dogstar, and fell into existentialism as I revaluated the purpose of my life. Everything was a lie. Done and taken care of. Nothing to worry about. What would my skills possibly be useful for?
Maybe the world needed a new Dark Lord. | The Priest produced a bright red, sparkly button nestled in a grey box from the sleeve of his long robe.
“Just press it and it’ll all be taken care of, like so.” He snapped his fingers, for emphasis.
“Right-o” I answered, but just as I was about to press it, I hesitated. “Waiiiiiiit a tick. Why do I have to press it?”
“Well...” He began “You ARE the Chosen One... It’s your job.”
“But it’s just a button, right?”
“Yes...” The priest left a slight drawl at the end of his sentence, as if he didn’t quite know where the conversation was heading.
“So, anyone with fingers could theoretically press it.” I paused for a moment. “Anyone with nubs, really. Hell, some poor stumpy bastard with no legs or arms could come in here and slap it with his cock. So why do I have to do it?”
“It’s...” The Priest was struggling with this. I don’t think he was used to people questioning things. It’s one of the marvels of religion, people just sort of accept what you tell them if you’re wearing the right set of robes. He even looked down to make sure he was wearing the set of robes that said “Why, yes, I am a Priest and everything I have to say is, indeed, exceedingly important”. “Look, it’s just what you’re supposed to do, what do you want from me?”
“I want you to press it!”
“I’m not supposed to!”
“Why? Because of some prophecy? Because of something some dead bloke wrote out in some piece of paper at the shit end of time? Have you ever heard stories of that place? They were goin’ around cuttin’ heads and snippin women’s clits! You really wanna follow those sorts of degenerates and perverts?”
“I...” He was quite clearly doubting himself.
I put a friendly arm around him. “Look mate, I say, fuck the prophecy and fuck whoever said it. You’ve got as much right to save the world as me. You press the button.”
The Priest eyed the button. It was rather shiny. “Surely... One press wouldn’t hurt?” He looked at me for approval. I nodded confidently and moved away slightly.
He pressed the button. Like a bolt from the blue, a bolt came out of the blue and turned him into a pile of smoldering ash, the button sitting comfortably atop the pile.
I took the button and brushed the dust off of it. In the middle of the button had appeared the words “Whoever pressed this button wasn’t the Chosen One, so they can fuck right off.”
“Well, glad I didn’t press it.” I said to myself, as I pocketed the button.
With the Priest taken care of and the button in my possession, I snapped my fingers and blew a hole in the wall of the Church, floating away to begin my conquest. It feels good to be the Dark Lord particularly when, after a hundred thousand years of defeats, you’ve finally got some proper fucking brains in your head. | 2020-11-09T12:50:41 | 2020-11-09T12:45:40 | 949 | 286 |
[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" | "LETHAL INJECTION ADMINISTERED," came the automated voice from just underneath the button.
I blinked. Was that it?
"Wait, hold on," I paused and turned towards the priest, "You meant I just spent the last 18 years of my life training for the ultimate showdown just so the greatest evil in the universe could be killed with a few chemicals?"
"Yep," the priest, Dogstar, stretched, "Now that that's over with, do you want to get some breakfast?"
"In a second," I held up hands, stopping everything, "Was that just a test? A trick? Is he really just going to come bursting from the ground and doom us all to hell?"
Dogstar glanced at the ground, considering it, "I doubt it."
I shook my head in disbelief, "No, no, no. I want an explanation. Now!"
The priest rolled his heads and sat down, pulling a flask from his pocket. He took a quick drink then gazed at me with slight contempt. I had a feeling this might take awhile.
"Now look, when this all started hundreds of thousands of years ago, sure it was cool and tough. Quite the spectacle, honestly. The Dark Lord would put on his demonic cloak, cast hellfire meteors at everyone, and it would be absolute chaos. But, his powers didn't really count on the power of industrialization," Dogstar sighed.
"You've gotta be kidding me," I groaned.
"So we thought, 'hey, why not just put him down before he regenerates his body in his tomb, save everyone the trouble?' Now we just kill him before he wakes up."
"And all the training?"
"Well the boys and I like to have a little fun. How boring would it be if all we did was press a button every 5000 years? Sheesh. Liven up."
Unable to process any words, I took a seat next to Dogstar, and fell into existentialism as I revaluated the purpose of my life. Everything was a lie. Done and taken care of. Nothing to worry about. What would my skills possibly be useful for?
Maybe the world needed a new Dark Lord. | "What, so that's it? Just push this button and bam, world saved?" I asked incredulously, slightly disappointed. Me, of all people, picked as the Chosen One of legend, and it's been hit by beuracracy?
"That's it." the priest answered with a wry smile
"Why am I even needed then? It's a button, anyone can push it! Even a dude without hands can push it with his face or whatever!" I questioned, throwing my arms up
"Look, it's still your job as Chosen One to stop the Dark Lord. We just found a sort of...loop hole the last time this happened. The last hero died, but he set things ***into motion*** for a success. So really, we figured we could stop the suffering and plan for 500 years. Get everything into place. Then you here, the big Chosen One, presses the button and everything falls into place one after another." the priest rattled off a scripted explanation, like he expected this to happen.
"Man, I can't believe this. I wanted the glory! The fame! The raw excitement!" I complained, sitting on the steps of the ornate church. The pews were the only thing in here besides the button and us two on the altar. I huffed out a sigh of frustration.
It was my absolute DREAM to become the Chosen One this time around. Fantasy video games were my niche, and imagining doing that in real life was any gamer's dream these days. I'd get my grand quest, make friends and allies, collect my amazing gear, maybe even meet a femme fatale along the way. And my *explosive and deadly* final battle with the Dark Lord himself!! For lack of a better word, it would be legendary.
"Well now now, it'll still be something of glory for you. We'll handsomely compensate you, give you your time in the limelight. Modern technology is vastly different from the 1500s, you'll be a superstar the world over!" the priest assured, patting my shoulder. He sounded like he was getting impatient
"Ooooh yeah just like every other nut on the internet, fifteen seconds of fame. Bullshit. Oh, uh, sorry for swearing." I griped, motioning my hands as if to show how great that was
"That's all right my son. In the end the world needs you, who knows how people will react?" the priest reasoned. I could hear his foot start to quietly tap on the altar tile.
"Yeah....well maybe I don't need it. I'm not pushing the button." I paused, coming to a deep realization. They needed **me** to do this, I had all the cards.
"WHAT?! M-my son, please. Think of your actions. The Dark Lord will rise within hours. You could be dooming us all!" the priest panicked, wringing his hands at me
"My Chosen One life, my chosen experience. Let's talk magic swords, eh?" I laughed, stepping up with a smirk and clapping the priest on his shoulder. I gave the button one last scowl and headed for the door, priest in tow. | 2020-11-09T12:50:41 | 2020-11-09T12:09:10 | 949 | 161 |
[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" | The Priest produced a bright red, sparkly button nestled in a grey box from the sleeve of his long robe.
“Just press it and it’ll all be taken care of, like so.” He snapped his fingers, for emphasis.
“Right-o” I answered, but just as I was about to press it, I hesitated. “Waiiiiiiit a tick. Why do I have to press it?”
“Well...” He began “You ARE the Chosen One... It’s your job.”
“But it’s just a button, right?”
“Yes...” The priest left a slight drawl at the end of his sentence, as if he didn’t quite know where the conversation was heading.
“So, anyone with fingers could theoretically press it.” I paused for a moment. “Anyone with nubs, really. Hell, some poor stumpy bastard with no legs or arms could come in here and slap it with his cock. So why do I have to do it?”
“It’s...” The Priest was struggling with this. I don’t think he was used to people questioning things. It’s one of the marvels of religion, people just sort of accept what you tell them if you’re wearing the right set of robes. He even looked down to make sure he was wearing the set of robes that said “Why, yes, I am a Priest and everything I have to say is, indeed, exceedingly important”. “Look, it’s just what you’re supposed to do, what do you want from me?”
“I want you to press it!”
“I’m not supposed to!”
“Why? Because of some prophecy? Because of something some dead bloke wrote out in some piece of paper at the shit end of time? Have you ever heard stories of that place? They were goin’ around cuttin’ heads and snippin women’s clits! You really wanna follow those sorts of degenerates and perverts?”
“I...” He was quite clearly doubting himself.
I put a friendly arm around him. “Look mate, I say, fuck the prophecy and fuck whoever said it. You’ve got as much right to save the world as me. You press the button.”
The Priest eyed the button. It was rather shiny. “Surely... One press wouldn’t hurt?” He looked at me for approval. I nodded confidently and moved away slightly.
He pressed the button. Like a bolt from the blue, a bolt came out of the blue and turned him into a pile of smoldering ash, the button sitting comfortably atop the pile.
I took the button and brushed the dust off of it. In the middle of the button had appeared the words “Whoever pressed this button wasn’t the Chosen One, so they can fuck right off.”
“Well, glad I didn’t press it.” I said to myself, as I pocketed the button.
With the Priest taken care of and the button in my possession, I snapped my fingers and blew a hole in the wall of the Church, floating away to begin my conquest. It feels good to be the Dark Lord particularly when, after a hundred thousand years of defeats, you’ve finally got some proper fucking brains in your head. | The hero, having remained ever vigilant as the final moments dwindled before the final confrontation, recounted his life's milestones.
His first time remembering what rain was like, first day at home school, the last time he'd seen his father at 7 years of age, the first time he's tried to escape the facility he was trained at 15, and all the subsequent attempts thereafter. The cool taste of mint chocolate chip ice cream, provided by his mother as a treat for remembering to say "please" and "thank you" to the servants that tended to him, and most recently the appendectomy that has nearly done him in the month before.
At times the hero yearned for any life but this, something normal wherein he could not have to worry about the fate of the world, but these last few years caused him to relent. He was advised that upon completion of his noble task he would be free to travel the world without impediment.
He was never trained in his to use weapons, but was fed and indulged in literature at a voracious pace, learning everything he could about the world he would soon inhabit from popular mechanics to US Weekly.
Suddenly the door opened and his mentor approached him and said, "It's time."
----------------------------------------
The lake above the facility had been the chosen battlefield for the eternal fight between good and evil for millennia. Across what looked like a life size chess board were scorch marks abound. Surely a demonstration of the great power he would have to contend with.
His mentor lead to him to the battleground, but did not touch it. Advising that only the hero was allowed on such hallow ground. In the center of the platform was a console with a sole blue button. The mechanism of his liberation and victory over the great darkness. The hero walked toward the center awaiting the red flare to be fired into the air to signal the commencement of the battle.
Adrenaline made his body anxious and shaky, his eyes had a slightly enhanced awareness to them. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and a slight pain in his head. No doubt due to the jitters. Suddenly the red flare was fired!
The hero, finally able to fulfill his purpose, pressed the plastic blue button with his index finger, and suddenly it was as if he could see, hear, taste, and fell everything at once........
"This was much more humane Carl, applying explosives into the boy's abdomen under the guise of an appendectomy was a stroke of genius!"
Carl surveyed his handiwork, what was one an 18 year old man was now two separate his of meat only discernible as a former person by the stray remnants of articles of clothing, burnt hair, and what few teeth didn't completely shatter.
Carl had inherited this duty from his father long ago, who inherited it from his father, and so forth. They could never defeat the evil permanently, but they could manage it. The were ways to smoke out the child of prophecy, inform their parents of what their child would become, and raise the child in ignorance of it's true purpose. Efforts had been previously made in previous generations to try and raise the sire of darkness as one of their own, but to no avail.
What had originally been a series of pitched battles in a long stretch of nowhere would often result in an expenditure of ordnance and large loss of life and limb, but in this instance, the answer was so much clear.
The boy was raised by the sect, treated as one of their own, raised on their tales and legends, made an integral part of the organization, and died in a complete state of grace. Carl ensured that well beyond the needed explosives was implanted into the boy to ensure just that.
The monks went about cleaning the mess as they'd done many times over. Carrying the now deceased remains of the dark one to the burning pyres, after the battleground was evacuated, the entire platform was flipped upside down so as to allow the waters of the lake to cleanse it one again.
---------------------------
As Carl maintained watch over the dark one's remains he acknowledged the promise he'd made to the boy. As the embers flickered, and the boys flesh and bone broke down to ash in the night winds the promise was fulfilled.
He could travel the world now, in peace(es). | 2020-11-09T12:45:40 | 2020-11-09T12:25:18 | 286 | 133 |
[WP] "May your skin rot when you heal others," the witch cursed, "and may your name be forgotten when you save others." You are a healer for a party. Your party does not know about the curse, and it has been your job to support them before they finally complete their quest. Today is the final day. | If one were to observe our party's journey to the final confrontation with the Demon King a strange sight would greet them. In the lead, with all the confidence and grandeur of a party of seasoned adventurers, are be four noble heroes; venturing forth to defeat the encroaching evil. Sword, bow, axe, and staff gripped in firm experienced hands, armor scuffed and worn from countless battles but nonetheless gleaming in the setting sun. But then a few dozen paces behind, shuffling along with head bent and body wrapped in a tattered cloak would be me; the all but forgotten fifth of their number. One could almost mistake me as a stranger to the adventurers; a battered old man who happens to be traveling on the same road as the four heroes en route to confront destiny. If not for the fact that the strange cloaked figure sat at the same fire as these adventurers, bandaged their wounds as they recovered from the days trials, slept alone on a cot a few feet from the warm coals once darkness fell.
Some time ago this cloaked figure had been fully one of those adventurers. I too had been shiny and strong and brave. I fought alongside the other four, struggled with them, called them family. But the moment the witch's curse fell upon me I knew that I would soon no longer be one of them. It took some time, at first it would be a complaint here of not having contributed in the last fight, a joke there of needing to perhaps take a bit more care of my skin and my health. But then soon they weren't jokes, nor light hearted banter. Soon when one of my companions looked to me there would be a brief moment of confusion, a question of who this strange creature with pocked skin and hollow eyes was and how it had gotten so close to the party's camp. At first the confusion would only last a moment. Of course! This was the reliable cleric, our friend and ally through thick and thin. But soon a few moments became a few minutes, and eventually the realization never came. One of my dear comrades would look at me, open their mouth as if to call out to me in recognition, but the words would never come. They would look at me as if I were an anomaly, a strange animal that had wandered across their path; fascinating in its uniqueness but not worth the time to identify what it was or where it came from. But that was fine. I had not set out on this journey for recognition. I had not set out for fame or riches or even; though it had been sweet while it lasted, for companionship. Each day as I had to steal scraps from the cookfire in order to feed myself, as I wrapped myself in bandages to hold my rotting flesh to my body, as I witnessed my party grow into heroes powerful enough to face the evil king, I knew that my path was a righteous one. If my allies thought that flesh mended itself unheeded, so be it. If they thought flaming arrows were turned aside by wards that appeared of their own volition then so be it. If the strange cloaked figure that they sometimes saw from the corner of their eye but thought not to question should collapse into a pile of dust, then so shall it be. As we approached the Demon King's castle I thought to myself how beautiful a portrait this would be. The four heroes, bold and beautiful, prepared to meet their destiny as the setting sun lit them in burnished light. A fine image if not for the strange speck in the background, a hunched figure wrapped in bandages and rags, struggling to catch its breath through failing lungs, eyes bleary in even the fading light. But perhaps there was a sort of beauty there too.
In that final battle, when the archer was shielded from the wall of roaring flame racing towards her, she turned as if by instinct to thank her ally, but there was no one there to thank. When the chains of shadow binding the Barbarian in place shattered, setting her free, she grinned as if this had happened many times before, though she knew not what had liberated her. When the poison gas left the wizards lungs freeing him to resume his assault on the Demon King, he felt a presence standing with him shoulder to shoulder, and despite the chaos and danger all around him he felt strangely comforted. And when the warrior, laid low by the Demon King's fell blade, felt life pulse into her, invigorating her to stand and once more bring her mighty sword to bear, a name leapt unbidden from her lips, a name whose owner she could not recall, but she knew *must* be spoken in this moment lest their victory over evil be rendered completely and utterly meaningless. Later when the adventurers stood victorious in the crumbling remains of the Demon King's insidious throne room, the four of them took a moment to bask in the glory of their victory. All of the hardships, the struggles against seemingly impossible odds, the long days of conflict and longer nights of terror had led them here. Evil had been defeated and good had triumphed, they had met their destiny head on and emerged the other side heroes, as had always been foretold. And yet there was a feeling, unspoken but shared between them, as if a piece were missing. The Demon King was dead, his minions defeated, that was assured but nonetheless a small emptiness pervaded the air. For a moment the clouds in the chill night air parted and moonlight shone through the cracked remains of the throne room ceiling, landing peacefully on a tattered cloak and pile of soiled bandages. The heroes had won, but for reasons unknown to any of them, they all wept. | Maysa wrapped the exposed muscle and tendon on her arm. Salasi and Beth were cutting open the torso of the giant spider they just killed. “Maysa, are you alright?” Salasi turned away from the dead spider. “I’m alright, it’s just a scratch.” Salasi put his hand on her bandaged arm. “Let me look.” He bagan unwrapping the first layer of cloth. “I didn’t even see you get close to the spider.” Maysa could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The last time she let Salasi get this close to her, he kissed her. That was three days ago, and she had been avoiding him ever since.
“No!” Maysa ripped her arm away from his hands. “I can take care of it myself. I heal your wounds, don’t you think I can do that for myself?” Salasi’s shoulders dropped. “I just thought I’d help.” Maysa turned around and began to replace the piece of bandage Salasi peeled back.
The three of them continued down the damp cavern. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but ever since The Festival of Monn a few days ago, things have been awkward.” Beth was standing between Salasi and Maysa. “Let’s just finish this job, get our money, and get out of here.” Maysa’s tone was weaving up and down, revealing her impatience. “So what’s your plan after this job? Are you leaving us?” Salasi was looking past Beth, staring at the side of Maysa’s face. Maysa continued looking forward. “I don’t know. I think that may be best. It honestly depends on if I have to save one of your lives while we’re down here.”
“Guys.” Beth interrupted. “I think this is it.” Their faces were illuminated by a golden tint. “So I guess we just dispel the magic?” Salasi reached under his satchel and pulled out a rolled up parchment. “Who wants to do the honors?” They all stood there in silence as Salasi held out the spell scroll. “No takers? Surprising. I guess...” Maysa snached the parchment out of Salasi’s hand, interrupting the sentence that he would regret if he finished.
Maysa unrolled the scroll as she moved closer to the wall. The light from the wall reflecting off of her armour.
“Enchantment cleansed, your gate be closed
Decree from The Sender, juxtaposed.”
The light from the wall left the cavern. The sound of tiny footsteps began to echo off of the walls around them. “Not again.” Salasi pulled his axe from his back. Maysa dropped the scroll and lifted her hand into the air, launching a ball of light in the direction the sound was coming from. As the light travelled through the tunnel, it revealed a sea of spiders rushing towards them.
Beth began chanting, moving her hands through the air in front of her. The more she chanted, the more her form began to change. Her skin was taken over by a thick coat of fur, her nose turned into a snout, her legs and arms grew in size, and her back arched forward until she was forced to start crawling on her hands and feet. Her now fully wolf form was charging at the sea of arachnids.
Maysa lifted her hand again, propelling a bolt of energy at the sea of spiders. Salasi was picking off spiders one by one with his axe. “I’d hate for anything to be straight forward. Why can’t we for once be paid to…” Salasi was interrupted by a host of spiders jumping on his back. Each of them took turns biting at his neck. Salasi let out a painful scream after one of the spiders dug it’s fangs into his back. “Maysa. A little help.” Maysa looked back at Salasi. “I’m sorry.” She turned around and let out another bolt of energy at the spiders coming towards her.
Maysa realized she couldn’t find Beth’s wolf form among the sea of spiders. With a swipe of her hand, she conjured a dome around herself, preventing any of the spiders from touching her. She trekked through the spiders, the dome crushing any that were in her path. “Maysa!” A small voice backed by little energy came to Maysa’s ear. Maysa yanked her head in the direction of the sound, seeing Beth’s human form surrounded by small spiders. “Just run. We're hopeless.” A loud scream came from behind her. “Maysa!” Salasi was shouting in pain. “Get yourself out of here!”
Maysa stood there in the dome, listening to her friends get overtaken by the dark crawling creatures. She took a step forward, puting the dome around herself and Beth. “Take my hand.” Beth took Maysa’s hand and stood next to her. The two of them moved themselves and the dome to Salasi. As the dome covered him, the spiders latched onto his back withered. “Maysa, you look…” Maysa put her hand on Salasi’s mouth and let out a loud shriek. The dome around them increased in size, reaching the walls of the cavern and crushing all of the spiders around them. Maysa turned toward the mass of spiders that were coming towards them from the deep end of the cavern. She let out another scream and threw her hands forward. A beam of light left her hands and spread over the sea of spiders. The light subsided, leaving no trace of spiders or dirt on the cavern floors.
“Who are you?” Salasi and Beth were standing on the side of Maysa. “I’m noone.” Beth reached her hand towards Maysa. “We owe you our lives, stranger. What do we call you?” Maysa turned to look at them both, revealing the other half of her face. Beth let out a scream. Salasi dropped to his knees, emptying his stomach on the cavern floor.
Maysa stared forward, muscle and tendon were falling out of the right side of her face as she chanted “May your skin rot when you help others.” Beth touched Maysa’s shoulder. “We can help you.” Maysa looked at Beth, then continued her chant. “And may your name be forgotten when you save others.” Beth’s face went blank.
“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” Maysa’s now fully fleshed face smiled at Beth. Beth looked at her now rotting hand as it rested on Maysa’s shoulder... | 2021-02-13T11:54:11 | 2021-02-13T11:03:31 | 66 | 18 |
[WP] Every spacefaring species has something that makes them special. Some are fast, some have telekinesis, some are nigh-unkillable. To the galaxy's surprise, humans have a tendency to befirend the cosmic horrors lurking where the starlight does not reach. | The Ster fleet followed the small human trading ship through the Cambarid Zone, through the Butterfly cloud, to the very door stop of the Singing Belt. The Hadal black hole loomed at the center like a titanic black marble, shimmering in its infinite mystery.
“These humans are tenacious, I will give them that,” Admiral Libinia said, rubbing the sense organs on his face. Ever since the first salvos of the Cancer War, as the humans called it, named after the some astrology sign among their stars, the admiral had enjoyed the destruction of the human trading routes. Truth be told, he hated the humans—though he admired them. Admired their courage and persistence.
“Are they actually diving into the black?” his second—Vice-admiral Chaceon—said, her quartet of eyes bulging as she watched the little human trading ship scraping along the event horizon of the Hadal until it disappeared. “What can they hope to accomplish? Our fleet will be here and waiting when, or even if, they make it through. They cannot outrun our Tadomi-class battlecruisers.”
The Admiral didn’t say anything. He just watched silently, clicking his claws with unease.
Why would they do this? He wondered. Are they committing suicide? Who would knowingly enter the Hadal’s vault of insanity?
“All cruisers spread out, a thousand uziks between each ship. I want a ring around the Hadal. We will wait if we need to. And all ships stay clear of the asteroids of the Singing Belt.”
He didn’t think he needed to say that. All his captains should know to stay away from the anthox crystals which ringed the Hadal within the belt—better known as the singing belt because it made those who got too near to the crystals hear its music worming deep down through their antennas, driving them insane.
He watched as his battlecruisers ignited their thion drives, the lavender luminescence burning brilliant in the dark of this god forsaken system.
And they waited.
But it didn’t take long, for soon the small human trading ship returned and with it a whispering came through the dark that made the Admiral want to molt his shell right then and there.
Soon they came. The destroyers of light. The living dead of night. Shub-Nigurath. Gigantic cloudy masses of jet black with long, twisting tentacles which reached out slowly. Dozens of them came out of the infinite depths of the Hadal, moving toward his fleet with the sluggish patience of the immortal. Around each of them was a flowing accretion disk of corpses which they had collected over eons, singing their songs of the dark, bringing ships down into their abyssal lair.
And with the whispering of the Shub-Nigurath, the admiral heard the voices of the humans. They were talking to each other.
“Retreat!” The Admiral said, but it was hopeless. His mind felt like it was melting, and he looked at Vice-admiral Chaceon with pure, unadulterated fury. And her gaze was equal, as they set on one another with primitive brutality, their claws ripping into each other viciously.
And the small human trading ship sailed silently past the fleet, watching as the Sters were pulled down into their midnight tombs where infinite horrors sang in the bottomless pit of dead time.
r/CataclysmicRhythmic | **"We need allies, General."** Savar raised a hand and spun the three-dimensional star map. "Humanity cannot stand alone."
"Humanity cannot *stand*, period," General Thurmond snapped. "[Those damned bugs](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mk92i6/wp_it_turns_out_that_humanity_is_the_only/) were *born* with hive-brains that can outpace any of our supercomputers; the only reason they don't roll over us in their sleep is because they see us as *children*. And the infiltrators... no, humanity must bend its collective knee, here."
"Humanity does not have a collective knee; humanity is not a *collective*. There will always be humans who will spit in the insectoids' eyes simply because they can, and we're not so powerless that we can't make the bugs mad. We need a contingency plan for when the bugs inevitably decide that 'uplifting' us is more trouble than it's worth."
General Thurmond paced around the holographic table; the room was empty, aside from the two of them, despite its cavernous size. They couldn't risk one of the things that only *looked* human getting in. "The plan is to make sure that *nobody* antagonizes the insectoids. We'll run counterintelligence on any... resistance groups."
Savar looked pained. "You're playing into the insects' hands, Thurmond. Their goal is to turn humanity into a hivemind, strip us of our individuality—you're just going to accelerate it."
"Well, what *else* do you suggest?" General Thurmond roared, flicking a hand at the hologram. The known stars colonized by the insectoids loomed menacingly in the distance—they'd had a good few thousand years of head start over humanity, and had claimed thousands of stars to humanity's five. "We can't even begin to comprehend how their culture works; diplomacy failed time and time again. We saw one of their swarms *move a planet further from the sun* just to terraform it—I shudder to think of what their actual *weapons* look like. War would be a swift failure. And we can't even stop them from infiltrating our own culture—they understand us too well." General Thurmond hung his head. "There is nothing we could do."
"...We could ally with [the Experimentors](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mk02zz/wp_to_further_understand_the_species_we_have/)," Savar finally said.
General Thurmond stiffened.
Savar moved closer, their hair brushing against General Thurmond's hat, the symbol of his office. "I know that their... experiments... killed Vishan, but the only hope for humanity to continue is to attach ourself to the *other* alien power we know of."
General Thurmond's grip tightened; the star map, misinterpreting the gesture, fritzed and sputtered ominously as General Thurmond said, "And you are confident in this?"
"Ever since [we stopped experimenting on the Spielbergians](https://www.reddit.com/r/bubblewriters/comments/mmd1yx/wp_humans_attempt_to_colonize_a_super_earth/), the energoids stopped experimenting on us. We've had some luck *communicating* with them, too. Give me twenty years and the backing of Earth's funding—"
"You have it." Abruptly, General Thurmond took his hat off and slapped it onto Savar's head. They took a step away from Thurmond, shocked. "Dammit, Savar, but you're right and I *hate* you for it. Working with the *things* that disassembled my son..." General Thurmond turned away. "I'll announce my retirement shortly. You have interrim command for a hundred and thirty-three Earth days; provided you don't screw things up too badly, the Minds should make your position permanent."
Savar swallowed. "I—Thurmond, I didn't want your post. We still need you—"
"I can't be a part of working with those damn cosmic horrors. *I'd* rather fork over our world to the bugs." Thurmond stormed out the door. "But I know that's not what the people want. So take command before I come to my senses and take it back."
And just like that, Savar was left to sell humanity's soul to the devil, while humanity still had a soul to sell.
A.N.
For more stories like this, check out r/bubblewriters! | 2021-04-07T18:26:48 | 2021-04-07T17:31:05 | 1,227 | 119 |
[WP] Every spacefaring species has something that makes them special. Some are fast, some have telekinesis, some are nigh-unkillable. To the galaxy's surprise, humans have a tendency to befirend the cosmic horrors lurking where the starlight does not reach. | It had been some time since a species had disturbed my slumber. Cycles beyond their comprehension, as I lay resting in the comforting pull of the gravity around me. And yet, I could feel a change in the stars. Pyolia's my kind, the old guard, had evolved before stars burned and rock rose. Ancient. Curious. Powerful. As we continued, more species arose; some just like us, existing beyond lesser creatures understanding. Others, as time passed, more feeble and soft. The first of these races, R'goz as they called themselves, came upon us in their first flights from their celestial body. We had been watching them, curious as they continued to grow. We witnessed as they grew and evolved. But upon meeting our forms, they felt only fear. Upon feeling our minds as we spoke to them, they understood only horror. So, we left. And as we left they spread stories about us. Beings that they couldn't comprehend and they felt only terror upon meeting.
&#x200B;
Collectively our race decided, that we would no longer take such a heavy handed approach. We would retreat to the places that they would fear to reach, observing them and the other star children as they grew into mighty empires and collapse. Soon some would stabilize. More would join. Traits among the races became obvious to notice. Pedanians were fast, but disliked the cramped cities of the empire. Gevari were long lived, for lesser species. We documented these traits and watched. Thusly we come to you.
&#x200B;
You. Your kind. You share a key characteristic with our species. Your curiosity. Your inquisitive nature. Your thirst for knowledge. Before you had left your planets you wished to learn everything you could. Upon contact with other star children, you learned more but still were unsatisfied. And so, now you sit before me, asking for more. Desiring more. Demanding answers. And to that our kind has decided. We shall permit. We shall grant. We shall share. Send forth the most eager. The most hungry. The Most Desiring. For that is what this knowledge shall do. It shall feed your Desire and humanity will evolve.
&#x200B;
{Been a hot minute since I've written anything, so feedback is appreciated!} | Talvines- purple skinned insectoids, parasitoids that infect different species. Able to teleport within a certain range they dominate their part of the universe and have a large gap between them and other sentient species.
Trillers gem spined spider like creatures. Incredible factory systems and innate defense mechanisms. Their towering glass architecture inspires artists. A truly wealthy and respected species. Their past is rarely spoken of but they are peace-keepers and well trusted.
Feared. Nobility.
Asocial in regards to other species.
Not many species blend. The Network, planet systems close to each other accepting all crab species a notable exception in having clear requirements.
Squires and Mylits are some of the most unique one, shadowy creatures working in tandem with birds with highly trained abilities. There is an assortment of other blended planets and cultures but in comparison to the many species it is incredibly small.
Then there are humans, their constant request for friendship initially being mistaken as trade arrangements. Their desire to know others, being taken as a declaration of war once. They were seen as a rude invasive species.
It was however friendliness. Pushing themselves into worlds of Avians was a reckless act that somehow worked, this itself a rare case of interspecies mingling and the deciding factor for the near universe to believe Humans quirk was being extroverted.
They proved that right, in the worst way.
Having heard of Trillers human love of gems sent a small expedition to trade, while a disrespectful act from other species Humans had been accepted. An oddity and a beloved part of the universe.
Triller gems entered the marketplace in exchange for honey, and a tentative friendship was formed.
Then of course, we all know how it went wrong.
A regular expedition was blown off course sending humans into deep-starlight, the gap between Talvines and other species, a place ancient gods had taken to.
An inbetween place, somewhere off of reality where laws had become distorted, where unique creatures and horrifying ones resided, notably where planet sized eyes led back to Varsa.
They befriended xem.
Varsa, a being that didn’t know empathy or even speech. Their extroversion went further than we had believed.
One human said “Xyr cool, xe’s more of a really scary cat than a monster.”
No further answer was provided, no move was made to distance from Varsa, in fact they grew closer to xem. Zaros metals were collected from xyr eyes.
Triller trade trailed off, Avians had, though it had been only a few centuries, already integrated, that though was the end of humans befriending other species. We pulled back, away further from deep-starlight.
While we ran humans continued. Varsa was only the first followed by other entities.
We leave humans alone now, there is a second gap. Talvines at the center, ununderstood entities, then a ring of humans. They send out signals, speak of our nightmares that they call friends. They still try to befriend us but they don’t leave. But now a few words haunt us introverted species. “for now.
“This is enough for now.”
Humans are extroverted, maybe more. | 2021-04-07T23:13:27 | 2021-04-07T21:11:49 | 106 | 42 |
[WP] This year you decide to walk through a haunted house for fun. Instead of running into your typical ghosts, zombies, or even killer clowns, you find it’s your deepest regrets. You are forced to relive moments from your past that have haunted you and you’re all alone. The only way out is forward. | Warning: This one is sad and full of regret.
It wasn't that surprising to me that the first room of the haunted house looked like a second grade classroom. The school was running the haunted house to raise money for new band uniforms. What was surprising to me was that it looked like *my* second grade classroom, decorated for the party on the last day of school, the party I'd missed due to the chicken pox.
"Mom, this haunted house isn't scary, it's boring." Julia was already having trouble standing still. She wanted to go off looking for candy.
"You wanted to do the haunted house. Some of your classmates put a lot of work into this."
Next to us the sign said "Last Exit" in red marker made to look like blood. We went onward. In the next room the door slammed behind us, a pretty good effect as I hadn't seen the kid controlling it.
This room was just a single girl in a chair. She looked like a sixth grader, and she was crying. "Are you alright, honey?" I said working my way through fake cobwebs to get to her. One stuck to my face and by the time I cleared it she was gone. Sitting on the chair was an old birthday invitation. It looked familiar. "Well, Julia, that was a little creepy, right? Let's keep going."
There was only one path. The next room was dark with flashing lights. Blue and red, like a police car. I heard groaning before I could make out anything. They'd managed to bring an entire car into the school, wrecked and mangled. A shiver ran down my spine and I looked for an exit, but the only path was past the driver's side. There was a teenage boy strapped to an immobilization board, only his eyes were moving. It looked a lot like-. "Come on Julia, let's keep going."
I edged around to the next exit. A teenage girl knelt in my way, sobbing. "It's not my fault. It's not my fault." Her hair was just like mine. I rushed past.
The next room was filled with red Solo cups. So many that only a narrow walkway was left open. I don't know how they made the room smell like it did. It reminded me of college. This room wasn't so bad, but I felt the need to lecture Julia about drinking. There was a set piece with three actors near the exit, two boys and a girl in Halloween costumes. The girl and one of the boys were dressed in matching Harry Potter costumes. The other looked like Tarzan. He barely needed a costume to pull it off. The girl waited until I saw her then downed her cup and left with Tarzan.
The next was a wedding. This room wasn't so bad, almost funny. A waiter played by a first grader cleared a plate of uneaten food from the bride's table place. I knew she'd be hungry later, I'd done the same thing. I couldn't bring myself to look at the groom.
"This way to Exit," said another fake blood sign.
"Finally, Julia. Let's go." I grabbed her hand and hurried on.
There was one final room, the school's gym. The floor was removed to expose the swimming pool. I hadn't known they had a swimming pool. I hated pools. I'd avoided them ever since-. Suddenly I whipped around. Where was she? I was watching her, goddamnit. She was just here. I'd only looked away for a second.
I couldn't look in the water. I know what I'd see.
Julia would have been nine this year. | [Part 1 of 2]
I gave my knee a smack, trying to persuade my legs to stop shaking as I stared at the decaying brown shack. “They are just ordinary people in makeup. You aren’t scared of models and actors, are you?” I tried to give myself a pep talk, but it only caused my leg to shake more. Of course, I was scared of models and actors. They just felt so unapproachable for a person like me. The idea of starting a conversation with one felt like torture.
“Ok, come on. It’s fun, people enjoy this right? Weird people, but weird people are still people.” I murmured to myself, only to jump when a man by the haunted house’s door gave a sheepish cough, grabbing my attention.
“Sir, without being rude, it’s getting late. Are you coming inside or not?”
“Sorry, just trying to get myself prepared for this. It isn’t too scary, right?”
“Some say it’s the scariest journey around. Others find it oddly soothing; I can’t say, I have never been able to make the journey myself.”
“You play your character well.” Something compelled me to give the man a compliment, smiling at him, only for him to give me a roll of his eyes, motioning me towards the entrance.
He was a strange man. Tall, pointed nose, long drawn-out chin. He looked more like a caricature than a real person. It didn’t help that his suit was tacky as well, having bits of string drifting away from the well-worn fabric.
“Come on, either come inside or go home.” The man shouted, rather impatient for someone that didn’t have a line of people waiting to get in.
“Ok, wish me luck.” I pulled out my phone, taking a photo of the front of the building before stuffing it back into my pocket. I needed proof, after all. When I made it to the man, I went for my wallet, only for him to shake his head.
“No money is required. Please, step inside.” On cue, the door swung open, revealing a dark, long hallway inside. It was incredible, for such a small shack the hallway looked endless. Must have been some sort of optical illusion. With a drawn out breath of air, I worked up my courage stepping inside.
“Ok, any monsters around?” I joked, trying to ease my nerves as I sheepishly dragged myself through the hallway. With each step, I could hear ghostly voices. Trying to spot where they were coming from. “Heh, that’s neat.”
Despite my best efforts to be brave, I reached for my phone, putting its flashlight on. Sure, it might kill the fun, but I wanted to get out of this without being a crying mess by the end. The flashlight did well to light up the hallway, revealing a set of doors on each side, the doors staying firmly shut as I made my way through.
“Huh, no signal? Must be too many walls or something.” I whispered, only to jump back as a door swung open, revealing a man inside.
The man was hunched over a desk, cursing to himself before he threw aside a scrunched-up piece of paper. “Why do I even bother? No one likes this crap. I’m better off just taking some dead-end job like my parents did. This won’t pay the bills. Why am I wasting my time on it?”
He sounded insane, kicking back in his chair, only to tilt his head my way, revealing an identical face. He said nothing at first, only jumping to his feet. We shared a long pause before he began approaching me.
“Actors can’t touch the guests.” I stammered out, backing myself up against the wall, feeling his hand slide through my chest as he tried to poke me.
“You ruined us; we could have been someone great. We had dreams. Do you remember the first piece we created? The first thing we drew. Remember how good it felt to create.”
“You can create again.”
“Can I? We both know that’s a lie. You haven’t got the heart for it anymore. We are a failure.”
With that, the man vanished, leaving me alone. The room went black before I found myself in the hallway once more, staring at the assortment of doors. “Hey, I want to leave. Where’s the emergency exit?” I shouted, only to get no response, leaving me alone to continue searching the rooms.
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/q7zbrg/wp_this_year_you_decide_to_walk_through_a_haunted/hgm7758/) | 2021-10-14T08:15:11 | 2021-10-14T06:51:53 | 151 | 14 |
[WP] You found a stray kitten one day, taking her in and feeding her. A week later, you come home to find your yard swarming with cats. The largest among them steps forward and says, "You have my daughter, human. What are your demands for her release?" | The large calico stepped forward, yellow eyes gleaming. "I am Darkclaw. You have my daughter, human. What are your demands for her release?"
I blinked. The dozen cats behind this one -- Darkclaw, evidently -- had stopped moving and turned to watch. One, a tabby, had a few feathers sticking out of its mouth.
I glanced past the cats to the door to my house, wondering what would happen if I made a break for it. Darkclaw gave a purring laugh and stretched out one leg languidly, sharp claws extended. I gulped. At the window, Mrs. Friskers watched, tail twitching. I paused to wonder what Mrs. Friskers' real name was. Probably something like Deathmaw, knowing my luck.
"I, uh...right. Demands." 13 pairs of eyes stared unblinkingly at me. I brushed sweat from my forehead. "I...actually, yes, I have some demands."
The cats remained silent. Darkclaw's tail swished slowly across the grass.
I turned to look at my neighbor's house. Dave. If he were a cat, his name would probably be Obnoxioustail or something. Flying drones over my home, dumping his trash in my yard, blaring music past midnight, even parking blocking my driveway a couple of times.
"How would you feel about scaring a human in exchange for the return of your daughter?" I asked.
Darkclaw purred. "It seems a trivial thing to ask. We can do it. What other demands have you? Do you need freshkill?"
I shook my head quickly. "Nope, that's it. Just this. So, here's the plan..."
I crouched down and the cats prowled closer as I told them my plan. Once they scattered to their hiding places, I walked back into my house.
It was only then that I discovered Mrs. Friskers was missing.
* * *
/r/ShadowsofClouds | "Wh - what?" I gasp, staggering backwards stunned into my door as my knees go faint and my stomach suddenly fills with bile. I feel my mind racing with thoughts as I stare down at the creature before me in sudden shock and bewilderment. "Y - you - you can t - ta - talk?!"
"Of course I can talk foolish human I am Polina, Queen of the Magic Cats. All cats can talk and walk independently, but I am the only one who can talk with your mortal kind since ancient times of the Egyptians."
"I do not believe in magic, this is clearly some kind of a trick or a delusion." I yelled, trying to appear braver than I was as I screamed internally. "Cats can't talk"
"Suddenly, I heard a cawing sound from a nearby tree, and my eyes bulged out of my skull as I saw a raven on its branches
"Caw do not trust the cats Erica caw"
"Tut tut that meddling bird" curses the cat, as her army of cats hisses upwards at it. "Get him girls"
But as her back was turned I quickly jumped inside and slammed the door, my mind was racing and my senses were screaming st that sight I was seeing before me.
"Open the door erica" cane the taunting voice of the cat queen as I heard a caring a screeching sound outside as the cat army reached my raven friend. Suddenly I heard a sharp banging on the door like someone was knocking but it was low down. "Give me my daughter back."
"No no no this cant be fucking happening!" I screamed, pinching myself to wake up from a fucking nightmare. Suddenly as the crashing roared to a deafening sound and I heard glass breaking somewhere in the house, I knew what I had to do. I sprinted upstairs to the room where the kitten was. I saw it in its bed, but there wax something wrong. The kittens eyes glowed a terrible hold colour that filled the room, and they were looking straight at me.
"I am the chosen kitten of Basset the Goddess of felines, reminish me to my family mortal and I shall let you live."
I gulped and nodded. I gingerly picked up the kitten. It felt unnatural still and its massive powerful eyes didnt leave me as I carried out to the stairway.
At the bottom of the stairway. There was a cat army gathered in the hundreds, preparing to rush upstairs and attack. But when I stepped out, they saw the kitten I was holding and suddenly all bowed down in the sight of their royal saviour. Finally, the Queen came up the stairs, and I handed her the kitten which she took in her mouth. The cats one by one filtered away until she was the last one left. Just as shel l she turned and looked over her shoulder to me.
"Thank you human ... we will turn a blind eye to your interference in our world for now. But the great Goddess Basset sees all, and she does not forget ..." | 2021-12-21T11:55:44 | 2021-12-21T10:46:07 | 175 | 80 |
[WP] This year, Santa is unable to reach all of the children on Earth due to a huge emergency. So he pulls out his ace. He calls in all of his favours with the other supernatural beings of the world, bidding them to help him. This is how little Ellie meets Death awkwardly standing in her home. | Ellie rubbed her eyes as she stepped from the warmth of the stair carpet onto the cold wood floor. When she looked up she saw a tall, dark-hooded figure materialise from nowhere. Oddly, it felt as though it been there the whole time, as if it belonged there. Ellie let out a loud yawn.
Death turned his shiny white skull and looked the girl dead in the eye. They both stood awkwardly for what felt like eternity, although it was only a moment (time wasn't something Death had managed to get a grip on).
"HO HO HO," said Death, his voice filling the room.
Ellie cocked her head to the side "you're not Father Christmas," she accused.
Death tilted his head up to check he still wore the fluffy read and white hat "YOU MUST BE VERY CLEVER, LITTLE GIRL. I SPENT EONS ON THIS DISGUISE."
"Where's Father Christmas, then? Aren't I getting any presents this year?" asked Ellie.
"HE'S OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE THIS YEAR, I'M AFRAID. YOU KNOW HOW IT IS - LIFE TENDS TO THROW EVERYTHING AT YOU ALL AT ONCE."
Death turned away from the girl and stalked over to the stockings hung over the fireplace. He reached into his black robe and picked out a few small, wrapped gifts, placing them in all the stockings except one.
"Hey, what about mine?" Ellie advanced on Death, whispering desperately.
Death turned to the girl, grinning (grinning tends to be the only expression skulls can make) "AH YES, LITTLE ELLIE. FATHER CHRISTMAS TELLS ME YOU'VE HAD SOMEWHAT OF A BUMPY YEAR".
Ellie's face dropped "I didn't mean those mean things I said to mum, I...I" her voice trailed off.
Death placed a boned hand on the girl's shoulder "DON'T WORRY, WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES EVERY NOW AND THEN," the bright lights in his deep eye sockets seemed to soften slightly "THE IMPORTANT THING IS THAT WE MAKE AMENDS AFTERWARDS."
Ellie nodded sullenly.
"NOW, I REALLY MUST BE GOING. I HAVE MANY SOULS TO COLLECT- SORRY, THAT'S JUST HABIT. I HAVE MANY GIFTS TO DELIVER TO ALL THE GOOD CHILDREN". Death pulled another small box out of his robe and placed it in Ellie's stocking
Death stalked towards the centre of the room.
"DO YOU THINK A WHITE BEARD WOULD HELP WITH THE DISGUISE?" Death asked Ellie. She considered this for a moment "No, not really."
Death sighed "OH WELL, WE CANT ALL BE GOOD AT EVERYTHING I SUPPOSE."
The dark figure faded into nothing. Ellie padded towards the staircase and back up to her room. As she slipped into bed, she thought she could hear a the clatter of hooves outside and an other-worldly voice doing it's best impression of Father Christmas.
"HO HO HO..." | Not proofread yet, so probably full of errors:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
No live creature was stirring, but there was a sound.
For Saint Nick was in quite a pickle near Greece,
So he called on his friends to deliver his treats.
Many had come when Saint Nick made his call,
And to them he gave their Christmas tasks all.
Good Ol’ Peter Rabbit, The Tooth Fairy, and more,
Arrived by the minute then embarked on their chore.
But when all had come and gone on their way,
With everyone busy, and night nearly day,
Still one last sack was left near the great tree,
One more helper needed, but who could it be?
Despair filled the air as the elves felt defeat,
But jolly Saint Nick would never be beat.
He thought for some time, for options he searched,
But all options exhausted, he was left with the worst.
“I think I have solved it,” He said quite resigned,
“One last Christmas helper was quite hard to find.”
“But I found one other as reliable as me.”
“I think Mr.Death, our savior will be.”
The words left his mouth, and the room grew quite cold,
For Death had been summoned, and a favor he owed.
The skeletal frame, clad all in black robes,
Stepped from the shadows as four’s church bell tolled.
“Nick, old friend,” death began with a grin,
“It seems quite a mess you’ve found yourself in.”
Saint Nick simply sighed, pointing to the sack,
“You’re right about that, a helper I lack.”
“If you’d be so kind and deliver these gifts,”
“Christmas may be saved, and some spirits you’d lift.”
“Well,” Death began, “Your point I do see.”
“But if I offered my help, what’s in it for me?”
Santa thought hard of what Death would have wished,
“Well how about a spot back on the nice list?”
Death interest in the offer he couldn’t conceal,
“Well, Mr. Claus, you’ve got a deal!”
Death took the sack, and before Nick could speak,
He vanished again, to drop off the treats.
To Pittsburg he flew, then visit each stop,
To eat up some cookies, and some presents drop.
Until his last stop, as day’s light trickled in,
But a vase he knocked over, making a din.
And into the hallway, out stepped a girl.
“You aren’t Mr. Santa!” the child did hurl.
“But I am,” said Death, her curiosity to sate.
“I’ve just started a diet and lost quite some weight.”
“But where’s your red suit?” The girl skeptically said.
“Out at the menders, some reindeer it fed.”
The girl considered a moment, then said with no fright
“Then speaking of reindeer, where’s Rudolph this night?”
“Oh, Rudolph!” Death said, stalling for time.
“He’s has a bad cold, and not at his prime.”
“So this night he’s resting, to be at his best.”
“For next year's Christmas, and all the rest.”
“Ok Mr. Santa,” The girl said after a pause.
“Say hi to the elves, and old Mrs. Claus.”
“Merry Christmas, dear child.” Death said with a smile.
“Now I’ll drop off your presents, go sleep for a while.”
Death went back outside and yelled in morning’s light:
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” | 2021-12-26T01:37:15 | 2021-12-26T01:20:19 | 30 | 12 |
[WP] "BE NOT AFRAID" said the multi-eyed, feather-winged being. "Sir, this is a Wendy's" sighed the baggy-eyed, tired cashier. | My headset was overcome with a high-pitched, deafening ringing. I ripped the headset off and peered out the drive-thru window, to see an eldrich abomination of a creature floating in front of the speaker, like it wanted to make an order.
I thought about calling my manager, then placed my headset back on. I don't get paid enough for this shit.
"Welcome to Wendy's, how may I serve you tonight?" I uttered in monotony.
"אל תפחד. אני דורש את המנה הטובה ביותר שלך."
The angel declared.
Fucking hell. I fruitlessly asked, "I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?"
"המנה הכי טובה שלך לאדוני."
The angel repeated, somehow with a hint of irritation.
I felt a sudden compulsion to add a Baconator to their order. "Is that all, sir?" I quietly asked.
"מוסיפים הזמנה אחת של רצועות עוף, עם רוטב ברביקיו מתאים."
This time, I felt a powerful compulsion to add an order of chicken strips to their order, along with barbecue sauce. In desperate terror, I read out its price and instructed it to head to the first window.
I shuffled over and set up the payment terminal. A beeping sound indicated that the payment went through, before I could even hand it to the angel. I handed it the bag and stepped away.
I punched out of work and got in my car. I held my face.
There can't possibly be a more blatant way of telling me I should get a different job. Probably gonna start going to church, too... | "Be not afraid!" said the multi-eyed, feather-winged being.
"Sir, this is a Wendy's" sighed the baggy-eyed, tired cashier.
"*Cawaak!"* screeched the being, shaking the steel tipped spear it held in one wing at the cashier. "I see you shake in fear, oh naked one! Let thy kingdom of Wind-ees perish and burn. Let thy ashes scatter in the wind and like the Lord Phoenix himself be reborn as one with the empire."
"Sir. Sir. Sir!" The cashier made a calming gesture with his hands. "*This*," he gestured around him, "is a *Wendys."*
The creature deflated a little, cocking its head to the side, multiple eyelids blinking at once. "Cawaak?" It half-heartedly shook the decorated spear underneath the cashier.
Sighing, the cashier pushed the spear back gently with a finger.
"What is all the commotion?" A deep voice bellowed. The fry cook walked up to the counter, a frown on his face and a grease stain on his apron. As soon as he saw the bird his frown turned to a scowl. "Goddammit. Not another one of *those."*
"I'm afraid so," the cashier said dryly. "Hey! Can you stop that?" he jumped back as the creature began pecking at the counter with its large, green beak, leaving huge gashes in the wood. Several similar sized gashes lined the entire length of counter.
When the first of the creatures had appeared and demanded that humans submit to the empire it had been a cause for great concern. Riots had broken out in the streets and doomsayers suddenly had followers, speaking of the great alien conspiracy.
The government had determined quite quickly, however, that the birds were harmless. No one had figured out where they had come from, but the public had quickly gone from viewing the creatures as a danger to viewing them as an annoyance. Every few weeks a new one would appear, demanding that everyone submit to the mysterious Empire.
"Want me to get the broom?" Ben asked, folding his arms, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"Oh dear. Certainly not!" A young woman bustled out of a door to the left, a concerned look on her face. Her name tag read *General Manager*.
She smiled widely at the cashier and fry cook. "We shall treat just like we do any other guest. Here at Wendys, every customer is welcome." She shooed the cashier out of the way and took his place. Then, she smiled at the creature, all business. "Would you be interested in trying out new Double Bacon *Cawaak* burger? Only available for a limited time."
The creature stopped pecking and turned its many eyes on the manager. "Be not afraid!" it squawked, shaking its spear and flapping its wings.
The cashier stood behind the manager, rubbing his eyes, a pained look on his face. He *hated* Mondays. | 2021-12-27T04:36:01 | 2021-12-27T04:27:31 | 375 | 97 |
[WP] Someday you feel like the entire universe is against you, but you always manage to stay positive and keep going. It turns out the entire universe is against you, and it's getting sick of your positive attitude. | Furious shouts filled the store from a customer in the checkout line berating a cashier. The cashier wore an amicable smile, and the only acknowledgement he listened at all was an occasional nod. This lack of a response seemed to infuriate the customer even more. Veins popped out on the customer’s neck as they began jabbing their finger in the cashier’s face.
People waiting in line were growing visibly uncomfortable as they shifted nervously, looking around for help. A manager came walking over to the confrontation with a placating gesture that brought a moment of respite from the outraged customer.
“What seems to be the problem here?” The manager asked.
“This imbecile is telling me that this bag of candy is five dollars, but the sign on the shelf clearly said four!” the customer yelled.
“That sign is for the Snickers bars, sir, not this bag of Reese’s Cups.” The cashier said.
Before the customer could launch into another tirade, the manager turned to the cashier and said, “John, that’s a simple mistake to make. You should know the customer is always right. Ring it up for four dollars, and I want to talk to you in my office for failing to take care of this man.”
John entered the bag of candy for four dollars and the customer dropped a handful of coins onto the counter, leaving John to pick them up one at a time. After doing so, John gave the man his receipt and said, “Have a nice day, sir.”
Then John took off his work vest. “My shift is actually over. We can talk tomorrow.” He walked out the front of the store whistling while the manager and disgruntled customer stood watching in disbelief.
The manager gestured for the customer to follow him and walked towards his office. When the door closed behind them, the customer said, “He won’t break. I need out. We need out.”
The manager sat in his chair and ran both hands through his hair. “I know Brian. I can feel it too. What more can we do without violating the agreement? He has to break soon. No one can take this forever.”
Fear shone in Brian’s eyes. “What if he doesn’t? What if we have to keep living in this damn reality for eternity?”
They sat together for a long while, discussing how to break John’s spirit so they could finally rest. | One step after the other. Just keep going. If the Universe prohibits you to walk forward, then fly instead. If not, then teleport. But, I don't have that kind of power.
It doesn't matter. Just keep moving forward.
I start to walk down the street, a light smile on my face. I felt a drop on my head, and when I touched it, felt something soft and gooey. I looked at my finger, and saw that it was bird poop. I didn't fuss about it. Just used my capabilities and flicked it from my hair. And my hand, of course.
I have always felt how lucky I was to be able to move things with my mind. No matter how much the Universe hates me, I could just flick it all away.
I didn't notice the dog poop that lay on the ground, and stepped on it. I just removed it with a flick of my hand, then continued to walk. My shoe got caught in a crack on the pavement, and almost tripped. But hey, I caught myself. I could fly.
The sky darkened, and rain started to fall without a warning. I didn't have an umbrella. But, I could just create an invisible shield on my hand using my ability to move things with my mind. It isn't exactly a shield, but it repels the water that fall. The wind blew harder, and the temperature dropped. Everyone else around me continued as though nothing was happening. They weren't affect at all. The wind didn't move their coats, and didn't break their umbrellas. I still continued to smile.
A lightning almost struck me, but the shield that I had repelled it just as well as it did to the rain. I sighed, but my smile stayed.
Everything stopped, and everyone looked at me with hatred in their eyes. I looked around, and the droplets of water was frozen in the air. No wind blew, and nothing else moved but the people that surround me. Their eyes turned black, and their clothes turned to black cloaks, burning and revealing the black cloak.
The world dissolved into nothing, and all that was left was me and the people. I could fly, and it wasn't much of a hassle. I'm still alive.
In unison, the people said, "Can you shut up your mind already? Your positive insight is bullshit. You're a threat to the balance of the Universe, with such capability as yours, which saved you from your demise so many times."
Really? I'm a threat? Wow. I guess I'm an important person, huh? I'm not a nobody!
They all rolled their eyes and sighed. Then, they all formed a circle around me. Their hands glowed white, then in unison they reached out their hands to me, then blasted me with white beams. I simply created a shield, which protected me from the beams.
They exerted more force, but still, it was no biggie. I'm so powerful and important!
I heard a snap, then I slowly lost feeling. I couldn't feel Hy fingers, then my hands, then arms. I looked down and saw that I was turning to dust. At least, even at my last breath, I served a purpose. Even though it was to p*ss off everyone else.
The last thing I heard was, "Even as he dies, he's still positive. I hate him so much." | 2022-03-01T20:32:20 | 2022-03-01T19:44:01 | 98 | 40 |
[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. | As I step into the room, everyone clamors behind me. "Hey, what just happened?" "Where did Diana go?" "I think she just- walked into a wall," "S-Someone call the principal!"
Now, clearly, this made me more than a little uncomfortable. As far as I knew, nothing like this had happened before. And I ought to know - I'm like, the biggest geek ever about this school and it's history.
To prove it to myself, I run down a checklist in my mind.
Name? The School of Highborn Arts. In recent years, it's been shortened to just "Highborn", but a lot of older people still call it by it's full name.
Founded? 1992, by a man named Elijah Highborn. The School was named after him, and there were statues all over the world in his honor. The School had irreversible effects on culture and society, well beyond just proving the existence of magic. The infallible system of calling meant everyone did what they were best at, and were trained by professionals in how to make the most of it. Nowadays, everyone from professional gamers to nuclear physicists to Olympic athletes were taught and made at this school. The system was never wrong.
What happened to Mr. Highborn? He vanished about 20 years after the creation of this school.
How many students graduated? 98.7%. It took a spectacular circumstance for a student not to graduate, and even then most of the time it was because of some sort of crime, or maybe the system declared someone a slacker. Society needed those, too.
How many clusters did the system sort into? At this time, there were 37, but I couldn't be bothered to list them all.
So why didn't I know what was happening? "Hey, guys? I'm right here." I waved, speaking normally at first. Then I yelled. "Guys? Guys! Hey, I'm right here! Look at me, damn it!" I tried to walk out of the room - but I couldn't. It wouldn't let me. There was nobody in here.
I started to panic at first. And then I started to cry. Something was wrong with me. I was a failure, or something. A glitch. I wasn't meant to be born. Those were the kinds of thoughts running through my head.
....
"Highborn, this is Principal Dunn speaking. We're declaring a campus-wide manhunt for Diana Longhorn. If you see her, please report to the office."
That was two hours later. I had already given up escaping. But I hadn't actually thought to look around yet - why hadn't I? I wiped my eyes and stood, slapping myself on the cheeks a few times to bolster myself. It didn't really work- it just hurt.
While I looked around, I saw a panel of some kind - and a huge wall of cameras. How hadn't I seen this? Looking at it, it looked like... I could see every classroom from here?
Feeling a bump on the counter I had my hand on, I moved it over, and saw a button covered with dust. After wiping it off, it read "Entertainment". Huh? That was one of the... Hold on, how many buttons were here?
... 37. And if I wasn't crazy, it looked like there was space for more.
I heard a whirring noise behind me when I pressed a button that said "Sales" out of curiosity. When I turned around, I saw a list of familiar faces. These were... These were other students. I pressed one of their faces, and suddenly I knew a bunch of stuff about them - their personalities, goals, medical history- I knew everything. Is this... Is this the sorting system?
"What the..."
As soon as I realized I was hungry, I heard a thud in a corner. Had that fridge always been there?
It was full of my favorite things. Spaghetti, potato chips, casseroles. But also healthier things, like salads and rice and chicken. I looked around, wondering if there was any water, and suddenly I heard another thud. This time, when I turned, it was a cooler.
Eventually, the room looked nothing like how it did at first. It's like my thoughts influenced it. Either way, I think I know what I have to do, and I think I know what happened to Mr. Elijah all those years ago. At least I had a workaround - this room had internet, and I could play online games just fine. I didn't know for sure, but I had a nagging sense that I wouldn't be able to talk to anyone as Diana anymore. Something bad would happen if I did. Even so, I decided to send out an email to my parents - surely I was allowed to do that. It wasn't anything fancy - just telling them that I was fine, that I knew what my calling was, and that I could only talk to them like this now.
I cracked my knuckles and stood up, looking back to the various screens of classrooms. I knew what I had to do. | "Isn't something supposed to be here" Those were the first words I uttered as I looked back to the mass of people swirling by the door.
I quickly take one step in front of the other and plant myself back in the hallway where everyone talks and goes to their separate classes.
When I try to wave to one girl in particular she nearly jumps as if someone had snuck up on her. "What the hell, are you trying to scare me".
"Eh, n-no I was just wondering if you knew who was the teacher for this class". My hand raises up and points at the entry way behind me to the dark empty classroom.
"The hell are you on". The girl in question starts to walk fast past me with her friends down the white corridor to the world awaiting her and the friends that she has made.
And I stand there watching wondering why this room is mine. Isolated, Alone. It's like someone asked me to be detached from the rest of the world.
'There's got to be a mistake' I try to rationalize. 'Surely the all mighty sorting thingy makes a few mistakes every now and then. The myth just can't be true now can it.
I step out and retrace my steps to the entrance of the school where I got told where to go.
"Excuse me my teacher isn't here yet, is it okay if I find out where the teacher is supposed to be."
"Oh, uh- well sure I can check in the system to see where the teacher is right now. Can you tell me the room number".
"Thank you so much, the room number is 413." I say while holding out the paper that was fed to me by the system when I walked in.
But at the mention of the number the lady working the front desk suddenly blinked rapidly. She grabbed my paper as if to double check an error in her work before making a few clicks on her computer and then typing in the room number.
"Sir I can't find a teacher for a room 413."
I stood there for a second wondering if there was a glitch. "Is it possible you can try again."
Upon my request she simply nods, does a few clicks, then a few taps and she then says the same thing as before. "Nope no teacher for room 413."
"You're kidding me."
"No I didn't even know there was a room 413."
It was at this point that I stopped dead in my tracks, dumbfounded by what was going on.
"Do you want to try registering again and seeing what comes up?"
"Ya know what that would be great." With a little more hopeful motivation behind each step now I walk back over to the system to register again.
I do the same thing as before. I let it prick my wrist and then type my name in.
The paper comes out with fresh ink visible to anyone.
'413'
Nothing else. No teacher, no instructions. Nothing.
"You said your teacher wasn't there correct, as in you went to the room on the paper. Was there anyone else there?"
"No I was the only person."
I try to wrap my head around the situation at hand. What was going on. Why was I the only one in that classroom. "Was there a mistake, possibly?"
"That can't, be the system has never made a mistake."
At those words I stared at her then back at my paper. And then my foot tried to look for answers all on it's own.
"Where are you going."
"Back to the classroom."
"But 413 doesn't exist."
"What." were the only words that could escape my mouth as I turned around and saw the computer screen. Sure enough the room numbers only went up to room 410 before skipping up to 500-A.
It was at this point that I moved a bit faster back to the isolated room. The woman from the front desk following close behind me.
When we round the corner to where the room is I point at it and say "There it's right there."
The woman from the front desk just stares at me.
I walk up closer to the doorway that was still open and point at the sign right next to the door that read '413'.
"Right here, this is the classroom."
"Sir there is nothing there."
It's at this point that I find this whole charade ridiculous and walk right into the classroom. From inside the very classroom of 413 I call out to her. "Am I crazy. Am I not standing right here in the classro-."
"Where the fuck did he-"
It was at this point that the woman appeared in front of the doorway looking around as if there was nothing there.
She then reached for a radio and started talking, saying "hey we got a situation, a student just disappeared on floor 4 can you look at the cameras and tell me what you see around here."
"Hey what the hell are you doing I am right here in front of you. Don't fucking ignore me."
In a fit of rage I reach out as if to grab her and pull her into my own bubble.
But I can't.
And I don't know why. But my hands and arms are just simply not touching her. I keep trying to grab her, but just, nothing.
I don't even know what's happening anymore. When more teachers show up I can tell that they are just as confused. Even though they all are standing right there in front of the doorway.
I feel like screaming at them to stop it already. I hate being singled out and whatever they are trying to pull it isn't funny.
There is even a moment where one of the other faculty come up and says to another. "He can't be that far. After all the system never makes a mistake."
It's at this point that I start to stagger back into the room with no one else. There is no one here but me. No matter how hard I scream no one will find me for some reason. I don't know what's happened and I don't know how it happened. I just want to figure out what is wrong. And no one is telling me. | 2022-05-07T23:19:39 | 2022-05-07T20:50:58 | 158 | 54 |
[WP] Making a deal with a demon requires a soul, everyone knows that. It’s usually a bad idea, but you’ve got a crazy idea. Earlier, you traded your lunch money to the school bully in exchange for a paper that stated you now owned his soul. You’re about to find out if demons consider this a valid co | Will never thought the intersection between Cedar and Saint's Roads was particularly memorable. It was just the meeting point between two small residential streets in the little town of New Harmony, Indiana: four unremarkable rows of houses checkered with unremarkable picket fences. It wasn't exactly a desolate badlands highway. However, it was a crossroads, and it was almost midnight. That had to count for something.
Will looked at his phone: 23:59. His other hand fingered the little piece of paper in his pocket, as he stood at the crossroads and waited. What for, he didn't know, but he kept glancing around at the rows of houses, in case the neighbours might see him.
"Hey kid, what do you think you're doing? It's midnight!"
He jumped. Little old Mrs Henfield was shuffling towards him. She lived just down the street, and although retired, she had made it her business to find out what the entire town was up to on a daily basis. Will started: she knew his parents – well, she knew all the town – and he'd snuck out of the bedroom window after lights out. Her cane clacked on the sidewalk, echoing around the otherwise empty, dark streets. He saw her hobble under a street lamp and her long shadow spilled into the pool of light, before vanishing into the darkness.
"I-I'm sorry Mrs Henfield, I'm just–"
"I know what you're *just doing*, young man! You're up to no good!"
"No, I'm not!" Will protested, backing away slightly from the advancing old woman.
"Of course you are, young man. After all, why else would you be waiting at a crossroads at midnight?"
Will did a double-take. Mrs Henfield had left the pool of light, but her eyes still gleamed with yellow, as if they had captured the reflection and held it, savouring it like a mouthful of chocolate before swallowing. She smiled. Will had seen Mrs Henfield smile before, usually when she found a little bit of town gossip from his mother, but this was different: her mouth carved a wide rictus grin, pinning her sagging skin to her high cheekbones. As she approached, Will realised the wind was towards him, but he didn't smell her musty old perfume. He smelled something else, like burned pork. She smelled *wrong*.
"Now, young man." Mrs Henfield paused a few feet away from him, leaned forward on her stick and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. The street light behind her flickered for a moment, and went out. "What is it you want?"
Will had given this some thought. What did any fourteen-year-old in 2022 really want?
"I just... I guess I want to know if it's all going to be ok."
"What?" The thing wearing Mrs Henfield's skin widened her eyes slightly, and its grin faded a touch.
"I see things on the news," Will said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They say the planet is boiling. Everything's getting more expensive. People aren't very kind, or it sounds like they aren't very kind anymore. What's going to happen to us?"
"You are aware," said the thing wearing Mrs Henfield, "of the price of this information?"
Will nodded.
"Very well," it said. It gave a big theatrical sigh and shuffled over to the nearest garden wall, where it sat down, groaning as it lowered the body of the tired old woman to the brick. "It's going to seem like it's fine."
"Really?"
"Oh yes. By the time you leave college, there's going to be lots of engineering done around clearing CO2 out of the atmosphere. There will have been a nasty recession, but as a result the global housing market will fall to manageable levels. It's going to look okay."
"But it won't be?"
"Of course not. The first war won't be over oil and gas, like everyone thinks. By 2035, people are going to be fighting like too many rats in a cage over water. Water's the thing. The bringer of life shall become the bringer of death." Its grin returned, wider than ever, and a faraway look in its eyes suggests nostalgia for an event yet to happen. "Then, in 2054, the bombs drop. Then the rapture happens. Then we get whoever's left."
"And that's it?" Will asked.
"That's it. And now," it said, beckoning at him with the old woman's hand, "I claim my reward."
"Here you go," said Will. He walked forwards and slapped the piece of paper into its hand. The thing looked at the paper, and then back to Will.
"What the fuck is this?" it said, all creepiness suddenly dropped.
"A soul," said Will. "For the information that I should invest everything in water by 2030."
The thing looked at the paper, and then back to him. It threw back its head and cackled in Mrs Henfield's voice, laughing long and hard. It laughed so hard that the street lamp behind it flickered into life, on and off in time with the creature's guffaws, before dimming once again.
"Oh, you evil little shit," it said, wiping a tear from the old woman's eye. "You'd sell the soul of another for your own personal gain?"
Will had not been expecting this. "You... you're not mad?"
"Hell no," it said, stuffing the piece of paper into the old woman's housecoat pocket. "Would you like a job?" | James placed a hand on his chest, "no lie, I'll give you 20$ if you just sign here."
Laurence scoffed as he read the paper. "Dude, is this your way of hitting on me?"
James inspected the page, it *could* be considered a confession of love. Yet that interpretation left James wondering to Laurence's perspective on romance.
&#x200B;
"The one who signs this page has sworn there soul to me in exchange for material wealth."
&#x200B;
James was of the mind that that said it all. Laurence made a shooing gesture.
&#x200B;
"Beat it, I ain't playing your games," the older boy said turning his back.
&#x200B;
"Oh\~ are you afraid?" James needled, looking away as Laurence leveled his stormy gaze at him.
&#x200B;
"Jeze dude, knock it off, or I'll just beat your ass and take the money." Laurence glowered.
&#x200B;
"So, you DO, want the money?" a chink in the armor, James said as he glanced down at the other boy's worn shoes.
&#x200B;
"Daddy does not pay you enough hm, spends to much on his drink?" he pressed.
&#x200B;
Then a fist connected with his skull. The world went white for a second, then he was in pain. His vision cleared as he held a bleeding nose, watching Laurence stomp off up the staircase.
&#x200B;
Holding his nose he turned to his left shoulder where his little visitor sat. A crow with six eyes and the face of an old woman on its chest... Witch he guessed made it a crow with eight eyes.
&#x200B;
"That didn't work," he grumbled to the demon, she cackled from her crows mouth, "FOOLISH."
&#x200B;
The hag face spoke then, "your time grows short *young master.* You must pay us soon."
&#x200B;
"I'm trying," he said with the frustration clear in his voice. He hated the way it made him sound so young. He wanted to be cool and unflappable, but he would settle for being able to sling fireballs and warp the minds of mortals.
&#x200B;
"Trickery would not work anyway," the hag face said as if it would comfort him, the crow head interjected "CHEAP TRICK."
&#x200B;
Indigent, James glared at the demon, "why did you wait until *after* I tried that to tell me?"
&#x200B;
"To make you desperate," she grinned, "DESPERATE," the crow agreed.
&#x200B;
He *knew* he should not trust demons, but still... it felt like he was having the rug pulled out from under him all over again. "I can't mind control them into signing, I can't even trick them into signing, and... and you did not tell me this because you want something from me? I thought we had a deal!"
&#x200B;
The crow head cackled more and the hag's grin was the last thing he saw of the demon before it faded to shadow. Her voice haunting his ears, "four more minutes James E. Dean. Four more minutes and your soul is mine."
&#x200B;
He knew what she wanted. Knew the cost of it. His hand went to the hilt of that gleaming dagger at his waist. The one that all the teacher's and student's eyes glided off of whenever he tried to show them. She wanted a soul. Not the soul of a monster. The soul of a human. And here he was sitting in a shadowy corner of the school. Nose bleeding, the offender stomping to his room... where he would be alone. It had been a set up. He was angry now, desperate. Four more minutes? Where had that time limit come from. He knew that he needed the souls today... but he had figured that midnight would be his deadline.
&#x200B;
Figures, he should have read his *assignment* more closely. His fingers closed around the hilt of the blade as his heart raced. Could he do it? Yes. He would have to break his self imposed rule of not using magic in front of others, but then he supposed his target would not live to spread any rumors. He could blast the door of Laurence's dorm room open, storm in and impale him to the cross-guard before he knew what was happening. He could even just command the lock to open for him.
&#x200B;
His blood dripped down his lips as James climbed the stars, not letting himself consider anything but possibility as he moved.
&#x200B;
He drew the knife, and marched.
&#x200B;
All of this because he wanted a little power. A little bit of magic to spice up his life. It was not worth it, guilt filled his belly, but he knew what he *had* to do. The world would miss neither of them if they died here... so he chose to preserve himself.
&#x200B;
He kept hoping someone would find him, stand in his way at a threshold. Ask him what was wrong, rebuke him, but his path was clear. He stepped before Laurence's door, silently commanding it to open with a flick of his wrist and a muttered, "OPEN."
&#x200B;
And there he saw a boy sprawled out on his bed, shoes still on, pillow over his face, and the light and fan on. His chest rose and fell with tremors. And James felt a moment of panic. He had caught the other boy in a moment of weakness. Why was he crying? Did he know what he was about to do?
&#x200B;
James shook that thought from his mind as he fought the urge to flee, knuckles going white on the dagger. He reached out and smothered his targets mind with a fist. Laurence went still, his breathing now steady with sleep.
&#x200B;
James had felt it as he brushed his mind, regret, a feeling of inescapable guilt. Fear for the future. Hatred for himself. Too close to his own mounting feelings.
&#x200B;
He lowered the knife. It clattered on the wood. Blood dripping from his hand. His sobs echoed down the hall...
===== | 2022-05-24T14:19:20 | 2022-05-24T13:11:38 | 304 | 69 |
[WP] Your spouse passed away. You still send them texts to their phone to cope with the grief. These are your texts. | 9/17/2022
3:27am
Good morning ❤️
4:03am
Going 2 work now, back @ 3
11:46am
I miss having lunches with you.
2:19pm
[1 Attachment: img10399390]
Kylie's cat came with her to work today!
2:23pm
Do you remember Maple?
2:24pm
She must be purring in your lap rn
3:02pm
I'M HOOOOMEEEE!
3:45pm
I have an appointment with the shrink soon, so please don't start playing your loud music!
3:47pm
Or do, actually.
5:12pm
The nerve of this bitch
5:13pm
She asked how I was coping with you being gone so I showed her our texts
5:14pm
And she said this wasn't good for me!
5:16pm
She told me I should block your number, so I blocked her's instead
5:24pm
I know you can't reply, but I think you can still see these texts
5:25pm
I still love you.
6:54pm
[1 Attachment: img10399407]
Dinner was okay
6:55pm
I remember spaghetti was your favorite
6:56pm
I can't seem to make it right anymore though
6:59pm
I can't find your recepie book anywhere
9:45pm
I know you're dead. I do. But I don’t want to stop talking to you. I CAN'T stop taliing to you.
9:49pm
I’m already falling apart from just the stress of existing, but you held me together.
9:52pm
We could do anything together. Take on the whole world together.
10:12pm
Sometimes it feels like this is my fault.
10:23pm
I should've gone instead. It was MY stupid brother who had to go and get himself hurt after all.
10:25pm
He's still asleep too
10:26pm
It should've been me behind the wheel
11:39pm
Maybe I would've survived. Im smaller than you, I could have swam out the window
11:43pm
Maybe then we'd still be together
11:18pm
When I'd heard that the bridge collapsed my first thought was that you'd just be stuck in traffic for a while.
11:23pm
I nearly fainted when the police called
9/18/2022
12:37am
Goodnight... I have to stop thinking about this
1:02am
Maybe the shrink was right.
10:31am
Good morning ❤️
10:32am
And... goodbye. I love you.
[This number has been blocked. To send messages to this number, unblock it and try again] | Well, look at that. Day 3 since you kicked the bucket. I feel almost guilty doing this, but you’re dead and can’t read these, and I can’t just bottle this up anymore. My boss gave me three weeks off, which is pretty cool. Thanks for that, I’m loving my time off.
I’m letting my sister adopt Cira. No way can i take care of a 2yr old on my own, and quite frankly, I don’t really want to. She’ll be better off with that family anyway, she’ll have older sisters and parents whore actually good for her.
Okay, it’s been a week. And I finally have the guts to say it to your face. This is a relief. I e got my life back. You loved me, but you also stifled me. I had to change who I was to suit you and the image you wanted to project to your family. And now that Cira’s gone, I can finally do whatever I like.
One month. I never loved you, you know that? You forced me to say it, forced me to lie, you had emotional breakdowns whenever I struggled to say it. I never loved you.
Two months. Your family keeps trying to get me to come visit. They claim they want to see their grandchild. Your you her sisters were always pretty hot, but there’s no way I’ve got a shot with them anyway. Who wants to date their dead sister’s widower? Plus, I’m loving the single life. I don’t think I ever want a relationship again.
It’s been half a year, wow! I’m saving so much money now. Not that you were frivolous, of course not. You tried hard to save us money. But the two extra mouths to feed, and all the ‘needs’ you and Cira had… Plus, if that second child had been born before you died… gosh I’m glad you died when you did. I’m so excited to have disposable income again.
It was Cira’s birthday today. My sister said I should visit her, so I did. She says she wants to go home with me, but honestly, she’s not my problem anymore. My sister said she’s more than happy to take care of Cira, and I’m going to let it stay that way. I couldn’t take care of a 3yr old anyway.
You died one year ago. Everyone who still cares has sent me well wishes and tokens of support. Nyeh, I’ll take it. I never told anyone how I really feel. I just play the part of the lost and soulless widower around them and they’re none the wiser. I never loved you.
One year, four months. Cira doesn’t ask my sister about you anymore, apparently. That sucks, but it’s not my concern. My grind is the same every day. I work, chill at home, rinse and repeat. Basically the same as when you were alive, minus the tiptoeing and the emotional drain.
One year, eight months. One of my coworkers came on to me today. She’s cute, red hair, hot physique. She’s never been married or had children, thank Thor. I’m tempted to pursue this, but I’m promising myself that there’s no way I’m getting into an official relationship ever again.
We went on a few dates, me and that red haired coworker. It was fun, but I prefer hanging out in group settings with her other friends. I told her that I’m ‘still recovering from my loss, and I need to take it slow,’ and that seems to keep her happy for now without being called my girlfriend.
Two years. Me and red hair ended things today. On your death anniversary, how ironic. I ended it on good terms. We’re still friends but I told her that I just needed more space. Way fewer messages and thoughts coming in from people I know. I’m not surprised, they’ve got their own lives to live.
I never loved you. | 2022-09-18T13:12:52 | 2022-09-18T12:45:10 | 48 | 11 |
[WP] A little girl is terrified of the monster under her bed, but what she doesn't know is that the monster under her bed protects her from the true monsters - her parents. You are that monster.
Thanks for the huge amount of responses! Loving most all of them, thank you! Sorry it was a bit simplistic though. | I was drumming my fingers until I remembered that she hated that. The noise. It spooked her and she never got to sleep at a proper time once she heard it. I could hear her heavy breathing, so I stopped and sighed and stood watch.
Laid watch. The bend of the dimension under ones bed is big enough to fit my ten foot frame, if I'm laying down. But I can't stand. I can hardly sit up, truth be told.
So I lay there, waiting. It was about three in the morning and I knew that the father was going to be by. Knowing something is going to happen and being able to stop it are two different things. It was pretty clear why I got this assignment. The father was a nightmare. The mother was, too, but for different reasons. She encouraged his behavior.
Normally he stayed away, particularly after the last time. I hit him so hard... well, her bedroom door was new.
But tonight he'd been drinking, and that gives all kinds of creatures all kinds of courage, which was fine. The knuckles in my right hand popped hard and loud as I flexed it. I'd been given new orders. The girl was to move in with her grandparents, who were nice, according to their file.
I would have taken care of this hours ago, but I can't leave the bedroom.
All I had to do was wait for the father to open the door. | Savages. The absolute fucking savages.
They bought another goddamned pink and purple tricked out party dress with glittery pumps and purse to match.
Do they even know who their daughter is?
I mean, she sits there, in the backyard, or out at the park, wherever, right? Surrounded with all manner of flora and fauna, and fucking mud pies and shit, and they go out and buy her something from the "Adolescent Barbie" collection. Jesus Christ.
I know it's not my place. This shit just pisses me off. These parents, these yuppie, yogen-fruz sucking trend whores wouldn't know what made their daughter happy if it rose up and fisted them in the stereotype.
Kids need freedom. They need to feel like what they believe in, whatever kind of weird, messed up googly-eyed fucking belief system they come up, with is perfectly ok.
This girl, this little child, has the whole Universe bouncing around inside her imagination. Could literally do anything with herself. No. Fuck that. Here's a fucking dress. Because you're a girl.
God damn it.
And I can't do anything about it. I'm not even really here. I'm here, for fucks sake, but I can't exactly pop out from under the bed and say "Hey, asshats, stop ruining your daughter". Yeah, that wouldn't go over too well. Not with my mildly infamous mug.
The kid. She's alright. Just unhappy. My presence doesn't exactly assuage her feelings of anxiety, mind you. She can sense me, or at the very least knows somethings up, but I've never had any direct contact with her.
That's kind of against protocol. Not that I would anyways. But jesus, what I wouldn't give to see the look on their faces, just once.
Me, standing there, reading them the riot act. Them, mouths open, completely stupified. Not a hard role for either of them. And the kid. Eyes glistening, wide and hopeful.
It's always the eyes. It's my weakness. I never wanted to hurt any of them. They were precious. Each and every one of them.
But that's the price. An eternity of hell, or an afterlife sentence to pay penance for all those little lives I touched.
The kid. Yeah, she's alright, I guess. I dunno. I was always into boys. | 2014-05-14T13:19:25 | 2014-05-14T13:09:06 | 72 | 32 |
[WP] A little girl is terrified of the monster under her bed, but what she doesn't know is that the monster under her bed protects her from the true monsters - her parents. You are that monster.
Thanks for the huge amount of responses! Loving most all of them, thank you! Sorry it was a bit simplistic though. | I was drumming my fingers until I remembered that she hated that. The noise. It spooked her and she never got to sleep at a proper time once she heard it. I could hear her heavy breathing, so I stopped and sighed and stood watch.
Laid watch. The bend of the dimension under ones bed is big enough to fit my ten foot frame, if I'm laying down. But I can't stand. I can hardly sit up, truth be told.
So I lay there, waiting. It was about three in the morning and I knew that the father was going to be by. Knowing something is going to happen and being able to stop it are two different things. It was pretty clear why I got this assignment. The father was a nightmare. The mother was, too, but for different reasons. She encouraged his behavior.
Normally he stayed away, particularly after the last time. I hit him so hard... well, her bedroom door was new.
But tonight he'd been drinking, and that gives all kinds of creatures all kinds of courage, which was fine. The knuckles in my right hand popped hard and loud as I flexed it. I'd been given new orders. The girl was to move in with her grandparents, who were nice, according to their file.
I would have taken care of this hours ago, but I can't leave the bedroom.
All I had to do was wait for the father to open the door. | "It's scary though"
"Don't worry. If you don't believe in monsters they die"
I seethe, sharply drawing my breath as her father turns to leave. I shift as familiar weight settles upon my back. I can feel the sharpness of the words, digging into me. Gradually she begins to drift away. From downstairs I can hear the beginnings of an argument, but she cannot. Soon though, maybe. I sit, wishing for it to stop...You'll hurt her, what are you doing, don't you care? They're getting louder now, just below the threshold of her hearing. I move, sharply scratching along the floorboards. I feel her jerk up, looking around. Alert. Not too alert, I hope. I hook a claw around the wire that runs up beside her, and pull. The lamp falls and she screams.
The argument below ceases briefly, hesitating the half-second it takes to re-arrange itself around the new topic.
"I was just up there five minutes ago"
"Oh, typical, you do something once and that cancels out the fact that every. other. time, it's me?"
"Oh, of course, aren't you just the perfect martyr?"
"What, because it has to be perfectly equal, because you wouldn't want to do more than..."
"More than what?"
"Forget it"
"More than what? Tell me"
"...Just don't"
He is still shouting as she makes her way upstairs.
"What is it honey?...What have you done to your lamp?"
"The monster -"
"What have I told you about the monster dear?"
There is a pause.
She speaks quietly, and I'm not sure who it is she's worried about offending.
"He doesn't exist"
The bed creaks as I buckle.
"There's a good girl."
She pauses.
"I'm sorry about the lamp mom, I - "
"It's ok honey. Try and get some sleep". She raises half a smile.
"Night mom"
"Night honey"
It could have been worse. Soon I can feel myself fading out of consciousness as the girl falls asleep. My bones ache, and darkness begins to encraoch upon me more quickly than it ever has before. I tell myself that soon, soon I must remind her, but... The girl above me sleeps soundly. With each passing night she becomes more courageous. Really, I ought to be proud -- someone ought to be -- but it is not so easy. With each passing night I find myself only more afraid. | 2014-05-14T13:19:25 | 2014-05-14T13:08:42 | 72 | 17 |
[WP] It has been verified that dying will result in going to heaven, no matter what. You are the government, trying to lower the suddenly skyrocketing suicide rate. | *This is a public announcement by the president of the United States and paid for by the government*
Ladies and Gentleman, I know that during this time of sadness and joy many of you are turning to suicide as a solution. I have spoken to my many advisers on this issue and I would like to make the following arguments.
Firstly, from the secretary of defence, killing others alongside yourself is wrong. This practice can not be allowed to continue. If you suspect that anyone is about to kill others, then please let your local police office know immediately.
Secondly, from the health secretary, please note that we have had no formal confirmation of the news as of yet. One man's word, whether or not he has come back from the dead is not enough reason to throw away your lives.
Thirdly, from the leader of our political rivals - the green party, should we not stop and think of the animals first. Should we not ensure that they are given the earth freely in our wake,
Fourthly, paid for by the Scientology movement, please consider the idea that your idea of heaven may not be the right one. Please consider staying alive and waiting for a better heaven to come along.
And lastly, from our British cousins, the Prime minister of the UK has urged me to ask you all to think of others in this time. Think about life on the other side and try to die in shifts to avoid overcrowding and large queues to get into heaven. They recommend leaving at least 3 hours in between neighbourhood suicides to ensure that politeness and fair queuing policies persist throughout. People that are less mobile should die alongside others in these times, to ensure that they receive sufficient help through and after the moving on process. | "Mr. President? Mr. President!" Not a word from the White House when we called, just that ubiquitous ringtone on every number. "Jesus Christ, Bradley, what the fuck are we going to do?" I said putting the phone down.
"Bradley?" I turned behind me to find the loaded barrel of a gun in my manager's mouth, and before I could even try to stop him, blood splattered against my suit as his lifeless body fell to the boarded floor.
It had been two months since Krishnakov discovered the afterlife, and just about 7 billion people have put an end to their pointless existences since. Rioting, looting, murder, it was sheer chaos here on Earth. They say religion's the cause of more death than anything else. Frightening how science makes things exponentially more efficient.
I decided to call it an early day, nobody was around to catch me leaving. Then again nobody was around to pay me either. The wheels of the armored hummer I stole from the garage a couple weeks ago bounced against the severed limbs of men, women, and children as I cruised down the street back home. Smoke filled the sky like death filled the Earth. Already sprouts and vines began reclaiming the city from us, we most selfish of creatures.
But all that was over now... for today atleast, "Honey! Kids! Daddy's home!" Rex came rushing to the door, barking like always. Unlocking the door, I found Rex curled in a ball, whimpering. I looked up and there was my wife, dangling from the ceiling. I was shouting frantically for my kids but when I went upstairs, I found Sasha in the tub with her wrists slit and James... Oh God, why James? Of all the ways to die... I fell to my knees and pulled my magnum from its holster.
It was true, heaven. I never believed in God, but here I was. The angels were singing a song so sweet, the view so innocent. St. Peter called me next, but before I even got the chance to ask anything he pulled a lever and I fell into the darkness. It was a furious flame that fanned the air, my skin was burning just from being here when a demon suddenly skewered me on a pike. He lifted me high over his head, and that's when I saw Obama being cut up into tiny pieces as his severed head screamed in agony. There was Bradley beside him. Then my heart sank, as the demons forced my sweet Sarah with strings like a puppet, duressing her to stab our children with a trident of molten gold. My daughter was begging for mercy as my son just screamed a garbled scream incomprehensibly.
Why God, why? But I knew the answer. | 2015-02-02T08:01:36 | 2015-02-02T06:37:02 | 119 | 20 |
[WP] Write a scene with two characters exchanging dialogue, but don't reveal the setting until the end. The setting completely changes the context of what was said. | The good cop, bad cop routine has been around for thousands of years. For Jan and Dean, partners for more than a decade, it was a well practiced dance. This crime would be easy to crack, Dean thought, which was good. It was a Friday afternoon, and he had court-side tickets to the Knicks game. Time was of the essence.
"I really am trying to help you out here, but you have to give me something," Dean said. He walked around to face the two suspects with his palms open and a facial expression that implored a response.
"Kkkkkt," was the dismissive response from one of the suspects. It was a hardly verbal utterance of complete defiance.
"Listen. We're all on the same side. You tell me what I need to know, and we'll give you what you want. It's a win-win. A no-brainer," Dean continued.
Yawned. The white suspect actually yawned. The black suspect had his eyes almost completely closed. Dean nodded his head in disbelief. Who did these thugs think they were, treating him like this?
Maybe this wouldn't be such an open and shut case after all.
Dean turned away from the pair of criminals and rubbed his sizable beard. He saw no way around it - it was time to call in the bad cop.
"Jan," Dean yelled. "Can you come down here? The -"
Before he could even finish the sentence, Jan interrupted him. How rude, Dean thought.
"Honey, no matter how much you try, the cats are not going to talk back to you. Clean up the poop off the sofa and feed Garfield and Carmelo before we're late to the game!"
Dean cleaned the poop. He filled the cat bowl. Garfield smiled. Carmelo was still sleeping. | "It's time," he said to the younger man. This was the kid's last test before the apprentice would start flying solo and take this over for him. Honestly, it couldn't come quick enough for him.
"I... I don't think I can do it," he said, voice shaking.
"Of course you can, Eddie" he said with a sigh. "You've watched me do it a few times. You know how."
"If course I know how, it isn't hard. I just don't know if it's right."
"You know what he's done. It's his time to get put down like the dog he is."
"I don't know, Tom. I mean, you've been doing this for years. Don't you ever regret it, taking a man's life?"
Tom thought for a minute. "There have been one or two, but not many. When the big wigs say a man's gotta go, he's gotta go. They don't take this sort of thing lightly."
"How do we know he deserves it?"
"That's not for us to decide. We just follow the orders."
"I don't know if that's a good enough reason."
"Look, this is going to get done. The only difference will be if it is you or I doing it. Either way, he dies today."
"How can you be so calm about it?"
"I just think about what they say he's done and it makes it easier. Look, it's better that it's us doing it than anyone else. We at least can make it as painless as possible."
"Do you really think so?"
"I do. It will still hurt. When isn't there pain in death? But it's better to be us than some civilian that doesn't know what they're doing; that really wants him to suffer. But look, this is up to you; between you and your God. You're ready though. I know it."
He watched the young man for a while, knowing this was not what the man has thought he would be doing with his life; being the hand that ended a life because someone else said it was needed. In the end, Tom knew Eddie would find that what he did was necessary.
"Ok, I'm ready to do this."
Tom have a half hearted smile. "Alright, he's just in the other room waiting for you."
"Do you think he deserves it?" asked Eddie one last time.
"I'm damn sure with this one. Abducted and raped 12 kids. They found their bodies burried in his basement. Honestly, I think 7 years on death row was too long to make this guy wait to meet the devil. The judge should have made him first in line." | 2015-10-08T09:01:46 | 2015-10-08T08:50:24 | 205 | 19 |
[WP] Write a scene with two characters exchanging dialogue, but don't reveal the setting until the end. The setting completely changes the context of what was said. | Ricky crawled through the slushy mud. He was covered in the stuff. It stank and filled his nostrils. He had to. It wasn't by choice. How else would he survive? He and his platoon began taking heavy mortar fire as soon as they crested that hill overlooking the enemy encampment. They fled down the hill to the river far below. It had rained recently and was filled with this horrid smelling mud and detritus. The enemy had pursued them. The only choice they had was to bury themselves here. It'd hide their scent from the dogs. It'd hide them from view. Three of his soldiers were gone. They'd been found. They hadn't been dug in enough. Their guns were choked with mud. He pulled his survival knife just in case. His friends.... He heard footsteps approaching. He held is breath and sunk in further. He heard the sniffing of the dogs nearby. His eyes closed as the sweat running down his forehead ran into his eyes.
Suddenly he was yanked up hard by his hair. This was it.. this was the end.. He didn't even struggle. He looked up into his mother's eyes as she screamed, "RICKY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. IVE TOLD YOU BEFORE NOT TO PLAY IN THIS DITCH! ITS FULL OF SEWAGE. NOW YOU AND BOWZER NEED A BATH! THERE ISNT ENOUGH SANITZER IN ALL THE WORLD. LOOK YOU'VE GOT IT ON ME. Wait till your father gets home. these are my new shoes. you are groun...... "
The tirade went on. His friends ran away laughing. | "It's time," he said to the younger man. This was the kid's last test before the apprentice would start flying solo and take this over for him. Honestly, it couldn't come quick enough for him.
"I... I don't think I can do it," he said, voice shaking.
"Of course you can, Eddie" he said with a sigh. "You've watched me do it a few times. You know how."
"If course I know how, it isn't hard. I just don't know if it's right."
"You know what he's done. It's his time to get put down like the dog he is."
"I don't know, Tom. I mean, you've been doing this for years. Don't you ever regret it, taking a man's life?"
Tom thought for a minute. "There have been one or two, but not many. When the big wigs say a man's gotta go, he's gotta go. They don't take this sort of thing lightly."
"How do we know he deserves it?"
"That's not for us to decide. We just follow the orders."
"I don't know if that's a good enough reason."
"Look, this is going to get done. The only difference will be if it is you or I doing it. Either way, he dies today."
"How can you be so calm about it?"
"I just think about what they say he's done and it makes it easier. Look, it's better that it's us doing it than anyone else. We at least can make it as painless as possible."
"Do you really think so?"
"I do. It will still hurt. When isn't there pain in death? But it's better to be us than some civilian that doesn't know what they're doing; that really wants him to suffer. But look, this is up to you; between you and your God. You're ready though. I know it."
He watched the young man for a while, knowing this was not what the man has thought he would be doing with his life; being the hand that ended a life because someone else said it was needed. In the end, Tom knew Eddie would find that what he did was necessary.
"Ok, I'm ready to do this."
Tom have a half hearted smile. "Alright, he's just in the other room waiting for you."
"Do you think he deserves it?" asked Eddie one last time.
"I'm damn sure with this one. Abducted and raped 12 kids. They found their bodies burried in his basement. Honestly, I think 7 years on death row was too long to make this guy wait to meet the devil. The judge should have made him first in line." | 2015-10-08T09:19:12 | 2015-10-08T08:50:24 | 26 | 19 |
[WP] Due to overpopulation, a test has been created to eliminate 90% of the worlds population. You are the first to take this test. | The world was gray, cold, and often dark.
Growing up in the labyrinthine alleyways and sewer complexes and housing towers that was Neo Angeles, life was harsh and often short. A particularly lucky girl, Yima, had lived to the age of 14 unmolested. Slight, with hair kept short and boyish clothes, she blended in for the most part to avoid the unseemly fate that accosts most young and beautiful women of this era.
Too many clawing for too little, even the air felt tight and restrictive in the darkness most were born and often died in.
Very few made it out of the smog, out of the urban and out to the fewer Communes. Once those were too populated and rifts formed in the social strata of the Communist villages, they too were broken apart and consumed by the oncoming Automation of the world. Yima saw the last great Commune break apart, and wept on the border of the Payette National Forest; one of the last few great forests clinging to the Rockies.
Then came the pacification wars. The Neo-Socialists had gained real traction in the Hegemony. Soon, covert and brutal methods had led to real control over the masses and large parts of the government. Life was grim, and dark, and resettlement was constant as people fled the worst of government tyranny. Yima made a living for herself cleaning and cooking and writing spare bits of code for the elderly as she moved from place to place, not ever settling down.
Until her landlord, if he could have been called that, sold her and every complex he owned to the government. Armed with the information her landlord contained, they quickly found most that had lived there and quickly had them huddled in tents in an undisclosed location.
The people were afraid, and Yima was as well. Soon men in lab coats began forming them based on their last names, and in mute shock the people formed queues.
"Aahla, Yima." One of the scientists read off a list, bored; it wasn't a name he knew. The men scarcely looked up at her as she numbly walked from the front of the lines to the men. They smeared iodine on her arm before shoving a small, electronic Blood Sampler against her bare skin. The warm prick sent small waves of pain through her arms. One man nodded to her and took her over to the side corner of the tent, where she waited patiently for them to tell her anything, holding the cotton lethargically to her small pinprick.
One by one, each of the others was tested and led out. Only 3 more joined her out of the 50 or so that had been led off, like cattle.
She wondered where the others would go off to. | As I entered the room, an instructor was waiting across the room sitting opposite me with a small white table laid out in front of him with an empty chair waiting for me. I let out a huge sigh and made my way to the chair and sat right in front of him.
"Good morning. For this test, I just have a few questions I would like to ask you." The man spoke in his white coat, black gloves, and a mask covering his mouth. "Sure.... Can't say that I'm not nervous!" I said as I let out a nervy laugh. *God damn it, just shut up and be normal!* He just looked at me expressionless and said "So, The first question I would like to ask you is what is your name?"
"Uhmm... Does it matter though? 90% of the population is about to be wiped from the face of this earth and my name is irrelevant." I said with confidence. Trying to sound intellectual I said, "In fact, I would like to know what your name actually is. With this job of interviewing people and deciding who gets to live, I take it as you are someone who is safe? Also, as someone who is important. I definitely would like to know who are you and what makes you an exception."
He sighed. He raised both his hands and said with a happy tone "My name is Dr. Axel. Now I have another question for you, do you want to live?" "Are you insane? Of course I do!" I said convincingly. Axel just shook his head disapprovingly and I was beginning to worry. *Did I say something wrong? I'm just being genuine and looking at the bigger picture here... Am I missing something?*
Axel stood up aggressively and glared at me. "Do you want to live knowing that your family are most likely not going to? Your friends. Your family. Your significant other. You may be that 10% that lives, but will you be the 10% that continues to live as you have lost almost everyone in your life? Now I ask you again, knowing that no one that you know is most likely going to die, do you want to live? No... no.... let me rephrase, do you want to continue living with that tragedy?"
I stood up and looked at him shocked. I said while fighting back tears, "Would you even find 10% of this population who will give up their loved ones just to live? What is the point of living after?" He said calmly "You can always to learn to love again."
I just shook my head, disappointed with humanity. What have we come into? To give up something precious and sacred to us. Then again, I knew it was a necessary move to save the human race. The question was, am I ready to give up everything? The answer was no, and I knew it. Axel knew it.
"I'm sorry, but I can't. Good luck finding that 10%. My family and friends are something I can't give up, even to save the human race. It sounds selfish but it's something that I would rather have than losing them. So yeah, I rather die with them, than to continue living alone." I said.
Axel nodded. He sat back down and told me "That would be all, you are free to leave." I glanced at him and looked away. I turned around and stood there for a while. Are we blinded by love that I can't be that 10% to continue to help humanity? Even if it was for the bigger picture? Yes. Yes it was to me, I rather live enjoying my last moments with my loved ones. I smiled.
**I was a dead man walking going into the room, but I came out of the room more alive than I was before.** | 2016-06-11T09:35:08 | 2016-06-11T09:06:11 | 27 | 16 |
[WP] A burglar enters a home by forcing the window open. Upon stepping through the window frame, heavy steel curtains cover all windows and doors leading to the outside, lights turn on, and the words "Player 2 has entered the game" echo around the house. | RELEASE OF LIABILITY FORM
I HEREBY ASSUME ALL OF THE RISKS AND BURDENS OF PARTICIPATING IN THIS GAME, including but not limited to: death, dismemberment, severe burns, brain damage, and spinal fracture. Any responsibility placed upon the individuals running the "GAME" is entirely waived, including: the owner of this house, the designer of torture paraphernalia, the sound designer, level designer, and my new Supreme Overlord Sandra Cunningham.
Any personal injury that may arise is to be mocked mercilessly and agreed to be derived from my own negligence or carelessness. If I am harmed to such an extent where death is inevitable, I give full consent to be put out of my misery. Furthermore, if the game is completed and a future diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is made, I waive any and all responsibility from the prior mentioned individuals.
I certify that I have entered this house under any of the following circumstances: I was in the process of illegally breaking and entering the domicile; I had intentions to murder the Supreme Overlord in her sleep; I saw bright lights from outside and am naïve enough to have come too close. Further, I certify that I have made sufficient effort to try and escape from the house only to find it fully secure. Finally, I understand that the only way to leave the house is to participate in the “GAME”.
I acknowledge that there are no pre-existing health-related complications that would prevent me from completing any of the described “LEVELS” (noted in section 1.1.a.3 of the “MANUAL”). I also certify that if it is found that I am lying about these complications I release all liability for how quickly I will die. I also will pre-emptively apologize to the audience for dying in such a humiliating manner. Upon death I will also release all debt inccurred by the hosts for running the event to my extended family.
I understand that this Release of Liability Form will be used by all participating parties and that it will initiate a mutual understanding of all my expected actions and responsibilities. With specificity I acknowledge that I waive the rights to sue in civil court or press criminal charges against any organizer of the “GAME” and I further waive the rights of my kin to do the same. In the case of any civil or criminal proceedings, I give the organizers of this event the right to terminate my life before testifying.
I understand while participating in the “GAME” I will be recorded both for web streaming and later viewing. I understand that my likeliness will be presented in an unappealing manner and that my death will be used for the entertainment of a large group of anonymous viewers. I give full consent to using my entire name, and upon death the release of all identifying information. Including but not limited to: credit card numbers, Social Security numbers, and my passport or any other form of identification.
I CERTIFY THAT I HAVE FULLY READ THIS DOCUMENT AND UNDERSTAND ALL POSSIBLE OUTCOMES OF THE “GAME”. THIS IS A RELEASE OF LIABILITY AND A CONTRACT AND I SIGN IT OF MY OWN FREE WILL.
Please provide the following information:
* Participant’s Signature
* Date
* Participant’s Name
(Please print legibly.)
----------
^^If ^^you ^^liked ^^this ^^you ^^can ^^read ^^more ^^at ^^/r/squidcritic | The curtains flung pass behind me. They wouldn't open, either. So I slammed down with my fist, and came out with a throbbing fist. That wasn't going to work either. I looked around, for some other entrance. I may be a burglar, but I know bad decisions, when they kick me from behind, drag me to the floor, and proceed to smash my brains out. I looked around, at book shelfs, at a table, at a chair, at laptops, and some very nice iPads. Sooner I was out of this weird place, sooner I could sell some stuff, and get some bosh. Sooner I could get some bosh, sooner I could give some bribes. Sooner I could give some bribes, sooner I could steal some stuff. Go back to the start. It was a very nice closed cycle. Unfortunately, it seemed I was going to have some trouble.
I saw a thing flash past. The door was wide open, by the way, and the lights very much lit. I peered out, into a long, carpeted hallway, and I saw a mirror. Or, at least, I thought a mirror. He was wearing black top, blue jeans, and what looked like parts of broken trainers. When my shadow moved, I could tell that he was not such the case.
I lifted up my knife. Ive always thought that guns were just to messy, and to loud, for my kind of work. His knife lifted as well. I said "We know what we want..." in a light, and, oh well, yes, a shaky voice. "Yes, we definetly do... Now, It seems that you have gotten us stuck. So get us out!". He obviously wasn't so scared of a guy with a knife. Well, I hadn't been going to long. "I... I don't know how. I mean, you were obviously here first." I explained. "And how would you know that?" "Well, considering it said player two, I mean, I kinda thought..." "So you heard it too." "Yes" "Well. Great. Good. So , mastermind, if you're so smart, how do you suppose we get out of this metal box?" he questioned. I didn't really know, I mean, its not as if you prepare yourself for being in a metal box and getting out of it everyday, do you? Do you? God I wish I could talk to people in the future. Or look into the future. I might not get trapped in metal boxes so much. Any way, I looked to my left, where a long staircase led up, and up, and up. I said "You first..." and he pushed me forward. I got the jist of it, and started up the steps.
Up and round, the staircase went, and after many steps, we reached the top. We had passed a few landings along the way, all with metal across the doors, and iron across the windows. What was this, a prison, or a house? The door at the top, had greek lettering on it. Προσοχή, μια ύδρα, was what it said. The phrase 'its all greek to me' came up a good few times. Anyways, it was the only door left unlocked, and so I turned the handle, and let the door creak open... Actually, I should tell you about the door. It was a dark, wooden, oak door, obviously intended to be strong, and hard, and the scratches on the door did worry me a bit. Have I told you about the flooring? No? Ill just get to the...
A giant hydra was lying behind the door. It was sleeping, luckily. My other 'Friend' had left me behind the strong oak, and called "You alright?". I decided to never let him know. There was another door, oak, behind the hydra. I sneaked past, and shouted to him "Come through!" And slammed the door behind me. I was outside, dawn was breaking, and the world was generally shining. I hope my little friend had a snuggly time with that beast.
J2D28U
- please tell me how bad
my work is BUT also tell
me how to improve it.
Thank you for reading! -
| 2016-10-05T10:29:05 | 2016-10-05T10:06:35 | 131 | 25 |
[WP] On the same day that scientists discover proof of infinite, parallel universes, you receive a package that is addressed to "Myself... Sort of." | It wasn't as big a deal as you'd think. I mean, sure, it was cool finding out that there really are an infinite number of parallel universes, but wasn't like we could go to them, or even communicate. It was just a neat piece of trivia.
Then I got the letter, addressed to "Myself... sort of". I tore open the envelope to find the following message:
> If you send this letter to ten parallel versions of yourself you'll meet the boy of your dreams and live happily ever after. If you don't by next Tuesday a horrible curse will fall on you!
Apparently some me, somewhere is an idiot. | On my way out the door, heading for work I practically stumble over a box. "That's funny," I think, I didn't hear the bell ring. But I'm already running late so I lock the door, grab the box and head to my car.
Once in the car I turn the car on, the radio playing one of the local news stations. I only half listen as my curiosity regarding the package gets the better of me.
"Leading scientists today announce...infinite parallel universes...seeking travel between...stay tuned..."
Especially because I notice the package is addressed to "Myself...Sort of." Must be some kind of joke. It does have my address on it though. Probably one of my friends playing a prank. They never were very subtle about those kinds of things.
Hesitating only for a moment I rip into the package. I'm already late anyway. A few more minutes won't change anything.
Inside is a flash drive with a handwritten note. Oddly it looks like I wrote it. They even signed my name exactly like I do...almost. But more interesting is the note itself even though it's meaning is unclear. The obvious reference does make me smile though.
"They know. They're coming. You're in danger. Go first. Take this. You'll need it. It's dangerous to go alone."
I read the note a second time, glancing at the mystery flash drive. No way I'm plugging that into my computer. Maybe I'll use Brett's at work. He's always out with some kind of injury anyway. It's a wonder that guy is still alive. | 2016-11-26T22:16:00 | 2016-11-26T21:31:56 | 86 | 16 |
[WP] Genies exist. However, they are all evil wish genies who try and interpret wishes disastrously. You're a lawyer at a Wise Wishing Firm, who helps their clients word their wishes as safely as possible. | "For the definition of 'was', we will be using definition 2 of the 2008 Webster unabridged. For the definition of 'is', we will be using definition 3 of the 2012 Webster unabridged." The man wore a silk suit, I estimated at least a value of $3500.
I sighed, leaning forwards as he brought up another specificity definition. The 73rd. I pinched the bridge of my nose and cut in. "Exactly..."
"Any sentence made incomplete due to interruption must be allowed to be repeated without interruption and the intent of said sentence will be clearly the intent that I had intended!"
"Fine!" I shouted. "But please, before we do any more, please... how much of this is there before I can go?"
The attorney seemed confused and considered my question carefully, glancing at my lamp which sat on his desk. He cleared his throat while flipping though pages.
"Seven hundred and thirty one pages to go."
I had always enjoyed toying with mortals, using their cunning against them, watching as their grandiose desires turned against them. I now regretted each and every wish I had...
"That is to say, seven hundred and thirty one pages to go... in this volume."
No. "Please," I begged, "please, just tell me what you want. I won't twist it all up. I just wish you would tell me what you want, so I can give it to you and go back into my lamp."
He looked up from his stack. "Why, that's exactly what I'm doing." He continued reading. | "I want to shit from my nose", said Mrs. Adams.
Consumed by confusion, I could only muster a clumsy, "I'm sorry...what?"
This unassuming young woman who has a family of 4, a 6 digit paying job and the most beautiful brown hair I have ever seen in my life burst into my office declaring her wish was to defacate from her nostrils.
"I want to poop from my nose holes, PLEASE", she insisted. Our company policy is to remain impartial to the wishes of our clients and only advise them to the point that exactly pinpoints their desired outcome...but never have I ever heard of such a ludicrous wish in my entire 10 years of working at Solomon Wise Wishing Firm. I just could not understand why someone would ever want this kind of thing. So I gave it a good 30 second think and tried to reason my way out of my disgust and shock.
"Do you perhaps mean that you would like less nasal mucus?"
"No"
"Ahh, then maybe you must mean that you want to only smell good things from your nose? You don't want to smell faeces anymore.....right?"
"No"
"Mrs. Adams, it is company policy for me to respect your wish but I must strongly advise you to not wish for something as utterly useless and needless as this. May I ask why exactly you want such a thing?"
With a calm, collected demeanor as if the wish wasn't something absolutely idiotic, she slowly said, "Well, it's always a hassle to have to sit down and take a dump. Then have to wipe it all off. Then stand up when you know that walking with your numb legs is just out of the question. I just thought it would be a lot more convenient if I could just poop from my nose into like a tissue or something, then put that in the bin like how I normally do when I have a bit of a runny nose."
"Are you absolutely sure that you do not want any other kind of wish. We recommend the 5million and a Bentley package, or the world speaker package, or the music genius package, or literally any of our other packages in replacement of your wish. I cannot be any more clear, anything is better than what you want at this point. Please pardon my lack of professionalism but it is absolutely beyond me as to why anyone would want this wish, forget that anyone could think it's a good one."
With a simple smile and a shake of the head, Mrs. Adams confidently proclaimed, "Nope! I want to shit from my nose."
With a heavy sigh and the bitter taste of regret, I drafted up the contract of Wise Wishing, and had her sign it.
Mrs. Adams no longer shits from her butt.
| 2017-02-19T13:21:16 | 2017-02-19T11:17:45 | 31 | 20 |
[WP] You are a normal person who spent your entire life infiltrating the evil Empire. You even became the Emperor's right hand. The day before you finally topple the Empire, the hero arrives, kills the Emperor, and saves the day.
Now how does that make you feel? | The hero looked at me, bewildered. Not three feet away from him lay the body of the "immortal" Emperor, with the hero's sword through his heart.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand the problem." He said, "I defeated him. You're free!"
"The problem is that you're undermining the plight of the common man, aren't you?" I said, waving a hand to the Emperor's dead body. "*Some* of us spend decades infiltrating the Empire because *some* of us weren't blessed by the Goddess with immense strength and durability!"
"But I was given these gifts to help *free* the common man, to-"
"Tell me, how long have you been working your way here? Two months? Three? How long ago did you actually *hear* about the Emperor? Because I'll bet it was maybe a day before you decided to 'put an end to their tyranny' as your lot love to say."
The hero remained quiet for a moment, "It was four months." They said eventually, like it mattered.
"And let me guess, you lost a love interest along the way? Maybe your favourite horsey?" I spat, "Well some of us were *raised* under this tyranny! We've had families disappear off the streets! We've endured this for nearly a century! And then *finally* one of us, *me*, gets in! Works their way up to be their right-hand man! Commits unspeakable horrors to gain their trust all so I can destroy his Soul Shielding at just the right time and plunge a dagger in his back!"
"Well, I'm sorry that I timed my heroics so poorly," The hero said with more than a hint of snark, shifting his tune as he went of the defensive, "If I'd known you were going to be so ungrateful-"
"No. *No.* You don't get to pull that shit here." I cut in again, "All you've done is reinforce the fatalistic idea that people should just sit around and wait for someone else to help them because the common man isn't good enough. How many empires could have liberated themselves *decades* ago if people hadn't just kept their heads down and said 'Someone else will do it, a hero will come'? And it's not exactly like you did this out of the kindness of your heart, is it? You've made a greater name for yourself as a hero! I'll hazard to guess you were even promised land or an esteemed title, weren't you?"
"That is unfair!" the hero protested, "I was promised no such thing!"
"Oh. Then they probably promised you they'd enchant your weapon, right?"
My accusation was met with silence.
"See? That's *worse*! You didn't save us because you wanted to, you saved us because you were promised a better *sword*!" I paused for a moment, burying my head in my hands for a few seconds. "Just... just go." I muttered into my palms, "You've already undermined decades of planning, just go take your sword to your enchanter and leave."
The hero stood there uneasily for several seconds. Eventually they walked over to the corpse of the Emperor, removed their sword from his chest and left through the secret passage they'd entered through. The same passage I'd convinced the Emperor not to board up so I could catch him by surprise. The nerve.
Slowly, I made my way out of the temple. I knew what had to be done. No one could know what had really happened here, the people needed to think that their plans had succeed. I was going to need to lie and tell them all I had killed the Emperor and then... Then I would leave. I would disappear from memory. I'd made so many sacrifices already, what was one more? It was too risky to try to play the role of corrupt Emperor myself in order to give the people a true victory, another hero might slay me before the people had their chance. No, I would need to leave and never speak of this day again. And if a hero ever wandered in claiming to have slain the Emperor themselves?
Well, they'd be known throughout the kingdom as a liar. | "Weren't you suppose to take that blow?"
I looked at this irritating woman incredulously. Was she serious?
"It is good fortune you didn't, but I thought that Xavier Longwood would have protected Kane even if his men had abandoned him."
"So you know of me?" I couldn't help but respond. I looked at the trio of misfits who had accompanied this women into the Emperor's suite. Two hulking brothers who had the IQ of a toad and some gangly archer had subdued the half dozen guards and two other councilmen who had been staying with the Emperor.
"I memorized all of the important people in the Empire, why wouldn't the Emperor's second be any different? The man born a baker's son and has spent fifty years becoming much more." Her sword was still pointing in my direction, so there was no way she trusted me. It was what it was.
I let out a sigh. "Of course." I finally recognized her dark green hair, with a natural shading that I had only seen once before. "You must be the daughter of that Planter fellow. The one who stabbed the emperor as Prince Arn since he had a forest razed. I'm guessing this is your revenge?" I was only talking to avoid getting killed. This event had occured twenty years before, early in my infiltration into the Empire when the old emperor ruled
"My father was not some fellow! He was a protector of the forest, a title handed down since the true rulers of Scoren reigned, the Winchesters! A forest your emperor destroyed for no good reason! One of them many evil things you helped him do. You have served this empire for decades, and have stayed quiet as he ended thousands. Why shouldn't I kill you as you stand?" The heroine began to point her sword in a far more threatening manner.
"Did you forget about Wallace and Monroe? Or the Emperor's youngest brother Stallone? You have done nothing except ruin the end of the Empire." I began to work into my rant, but I was cut off.
"Ruin the end? I know what he was doing here. He was going to kill the Lamons ambassador and declare war on them for the resources of the Western Sea. And it would have been either fight for the Emperor or die!"
"It was going to be a coup that ended the Kane empire you fools!" I realized the eyes of the allies to the hero in the room were on me, and that all others were dead. I was the last to enter this room with the former emperor to live. I was going to make the mercy count.
"You have no idea who the ambassador from Lamons is, now do you?"
The four of them couldn't help but shake their heads. The archer pointed his bow in the direction of Allen, one of the dead councilmen. "No, we only got from spying on him the plot to kill him." He seemed the too honest type.
"It is Sly Kane."
"Impossible! He was executed last year for defying the emperor! He had no remorse for his nephew."
"But I did, and forced another prisoner to take his place. And I sent him to Lamons, where he gathered the trust of the royalty and we continued our plot to end the Empire. So tomorrow, while the Emperor comes with 30 men and his close advisors, Lamons had brought 300. It would have been a bloodbath that ended everyone relevant to the Empire. And as the highest ranking heir. Sly would have taken the throne and converted power into a parliament, much like Lamons is. But with the Emperor dead, those men I spoke of earlier will run and know something is up. The assault on Lamons will occur and many men and women will die to your overzealousness."
They looked shaken as I told them this, as I explained to them their folly. Then one of the oafs spoke.
"But if we kill them, we still good?"
"Huh? You mean Wallace and Monroe and Stallone and the others that would have been there? They are spread in multiple locations, with many a guard. Arn was arrogant and thought he would not be attacked and brought among his weakest with him."
"But Lamons has 300 men you said." The oaf pointed a giant hole in my logic.
He was right. If we attacked now, this could be salvaged. "Alright, but we must move fast. Stallone will be here shortly to speak with his brother, and he will alert the rest once he sees the dead. Sly is staying in a tavern not far from here, while Lamons decoy ambassador is three floors below. We must move quickly." I began to look at the heroine who still was pointing her sword threateningly at me.
She looked around and sighed before putting her sword down. "Fine, but I will help. I wish to meet this future leader, and to see if he is true or if he is using you to further his goals."
I chuckled as I went to gather my cloack I needed for this excursion. "I have been doing this for longer than you have been alive. Waiting for this day to end it all at once. If I thought Sly could betray me, I would have let him die." I made sure it covered my face well enough and made my way to the door.
"Let us finish this."
| 2017-03-12T13:41:34 | 2017-03-12T13:26:11 | 469 | 124 |
[WP] Compared to the rest of the galaxy humanity is by far the friendliest. To many star systems they are considered "the good neighbor," and are known for their helpfulness. One day an oblivious system declares war on humanity, only to find half of the galaxy responding to humanity's plea for aid.
EDIT: Tfw this prompt gets 100+ upvotes and still no story
EDIT: Nice, we got a story.
EDIT: Wow we got a lot of stories! Thanks to all who contributed to this thread.
| The Humans are a strange species.
They found my people in ancient times, when the wheel and fire were still cutting edge technology. They built an station in orbit around our world, as was their way, and observed our development. They did not interfere with our development too much. When our home was threatened by an asteroid strike in ancient times, they destroyed it. When a supervolcano erupted and cast our world into volcanic winter, they descended from on high and cleaned our atmosphere.
We praised them as Gods for a time... Gods that came when we were in true need and helped us escape extinction. That was the only time they approached us directly. Their great ships landed where we preached of their glory... and they set us right. They told us that they were not gods... but were flesh and blood like us. They had learned how the world worked... and through doing so they had learned to control the world. Through their hard work and study... they had elevated themselves to the point where they worked *miracles* through their technology. They told us not to worship them... but instead to follow in their footsteps.
Our people... became very eager to join the Humans among the Stars. We wanted to be like them... powerful enough to bend the world towards our interests. As we grew more advanced... the Humans seemed to grow more distant. Disasters came without the Humans coming to fix them. We were confused by this, we were worried by this, and we were angry... until we figured out why the Humans did not intervene. It was because we were *able* to fix more of our problems ourselves. We came to understand, without being told, that the Humans did not want to rob us of the challenges that let us grow. Necessity is the mother of invention, and they did not want to take away the stress that we could deal with.
We went through the growing pains of a Sentient Species. Agriculture, Industrialization, Hate, Power-Hunger, and more... until the most dangerous came upon us. We discovered the Power of the Atom. The Humans did not intervene when first we used the weapons that were born of the Atom. Atomic Hellfire wiped a city out, and a war was ended. Nuclear Peace began... one as uneasy as the Nuclear Peace of human history. But... that also drove us to The Stars. The Missiles we made to deliver death across the world were also the key to breaking free of Gravity's iron-grip.
Our first mission was, of course, to reach the Human Research Station. We had a few failures along the way... a few people died... but we made it in the end. We docked with the station... and we met the Humans in person once more. They were so happy to see us having succeeded in getting past the first hurdle. They encouraged us to keep exploring, to keep *learning*... and to be careful with the weapons we had built.
We were not.
It's been a long time since the Day of Armageddon. The day that tensions finally broke... and the decision was made to end the world. Missiles launched. Sirens flared. Mothers lied to their children, telling them that everything would be okay. Old friends got together for one last drink, before the end. Several children were made. But the end didn't come. The Humans did what they always did: They saved us from extinction when we couldn't save ourselves.
Great beams of light were sent out from the Research Satellites. They struck the missiles... and there were no missiles anymore when the beams ended. There wasn't even a blast. Then... they made a request to us. They took control of every signal. Every radio, every video screen... everything. They addressed our world, and they *asked us* to avoid going to war, even though the threat of Nuclear Annihilation had been lifted from our world by their intervention. They told us that, whatever our differences might be, they weren't great enough to justify destroying each-other.
We... did as we were asked. We did our best not to go to war. It worked... on the whole. Countries stopped fighting each-other... although internal wars still flared up from time to time. We continued to struggle forward... until we eventually managed to join the humans. We discovered the secrets behind the Warp-Drives that Humans relied upon... and they celebrated out triumph as we ascended to join the galactic community.
We learned that the Humans were not alone among the stars, and that we were not unique in how the Humans had treated us. There were dozens of species like ours, who the Humans had taken an interest in. They had protected them... and encouraged them. When they emerged from their home-worlds with FTL Capabilities... the humans had supported their growth. They'd helped us find worlds to colonize, and they'd sent Terraforming Ships out to create new garden worlds for us to inhabit.
They never asked for anything in return. To them... helping intelligent species, like ours, reach the stars was simply the right thing to do. They believed that all intelligent life was valuable... and that it should be allowed, if not outright encouraged, to flourish. They wanted to see their Local Cluster *filled* with Life... and they'd been working on that for a very long time.
The Grell eventually found the Humans. They were another of the Elder Species, as old as the humans were, but they were not as Ancient as the Remnants. They had come to the stars seeking to spread their Empire, to unite all life beneath their banner... and to make all a part of their "superior" culture.
When they looked upon our Local Cluster... they thought they saw an easy conquest. They saw *dozens* of weak species and nations that could be easily conquered... and the only species of real relevance, the Humans, were pacifistic scientists that hadn't been at war for a very long time. They ignored us, and attacked the Humans first... seeking to destroy the only thing that remotely resembled a threat. They expected that we would not come to the Humans' aid... and they were wrong.
The Humans were not always as peaceful as they were when we were uplifted to the stars. They had been Warriors once, and they had *always* been scientists. Their Ships of War awakened from long hibernation... with our people at their helms. While the Humans had forgotten war... we had all experienced it. It took us awhile to figure out how to do it in space... but we figured it out, and we taught the Humans what they had forgotten.
The Humans turned their Economy away from terraforming and the spreading of Life... and towards the creation of a larger armada. We held the line together... defending the Local Cluster until the Armada was ready. Then... we pushed the Grell back.
We destroyed their ships, and we stranded their people on dozens of planets. We freed those that they had conquered, but few of them were strong enough to join us. We destroyed their infrastructure to stop them from returning to the Stars... and set them back to their stone-age in the process. But... we did not drive them to extinction. Instead... we built space-stations around their worlds and we watched over them, hoping to guide them back to The Stars again once they had learned the Lesson of War.
We returned to peace and exploration... and the Humans returned to spreading life and guiding new intelligence to The Stars. | Earth. A friendly neighbor of sorts, something Glse had once heard a human mutter beneath their breath with an ironic snort only to be instantly reprimanded by Idlestein, Earth’s second in command. Glse had thought long on the phrase, translating it easily enough into its native tongue.
The ambassador of Gumoura idly traced the bedrock lining its extravagant chair.
Over the course of little more than half a millennium, the Humans had established themselves as a friendly, if not outgoing, helping hand within the universe. A planet that strived to better themselves and those around them.
Glse remembered the first human to step into his office.
Fragile had been its first stray observation. Small, the next. Pale and dark and all too thin, the foreign thing had come into his office, bipedal and with purpose.
Ambassador, the Human had named itself. Shurken, the Human had called itself after. Then and there, Glse had become what was known to the Humans as an ambassador for the Empire of Gumoura. Glse had learnt of the Humans and their ways of life.
The way the color of their skin could range from yellow to pink to brown to black. The way they spoke, in a dialect so foreign and strange to the natives of Gumoura. The way they switched language so easily to yet another strange and foreign one. The way their faces would stretch and tighten with emotion so easily and with so much enthusiasm.
But they were kind. And they helped where they could whenever the need presented itself to them.
Glse remembered the falling of Atzkin, a small tribal planet not far off in the Armonda Galaxy. He remembered the helping hand the humans quickly provided, without even an invitation or call, they had travelled the galaxies to lend the crumbling alien society a sense of peace.
It continued on like this for several more centuries. The Humans continued to help where they could, not just to gain debt, but to improve the worlds around them.
Always striving to advance themselves and grow, the Humans travelled far and taught their culture to all those willing to listen.
Soon enough, their tiny planet Earth was known across the Universe. Not for their strength, nor for their ruthlessness, but for the kindness they so easily extended.
A friendly neighbor indeed, Glse thought.
It was later in their years of existence that Earth finally acquired an enemy. On a foreign planet lightyears away, where the Humans fought a miniscule war against a species wishing to conquer one of their ‘friends’, or rather, alliances.
A species built on a planet raging with constant war and chaos, the Maluon were known for conquering small and indifferent stars and planets but little else. Glse supposed they’d try something sooner or later that they’d regret, but had never believed them to be idiotic enough to try their luck with one of the most socially powerful planets in the Universe.
Glse had not been surprised that day when he’d been requested into the Emperor’s chambers.
“Yes my Leadership.” Glse had clucked, the Gumourian dialect rolling off his twin tongues easily.
The Emperor had smiled kindly and granted a single touch of her black embossed staff to his one shoulder, letting him rise from the low bow.
The grand room of her chambers glittered and shined and Glse glimpsed at the barest hints of jewels running across the sharp angles of her claws. Presents bestowed by the Humans, he was assured. Her head twisted towards the back wall, where two grand halls were sure to be.
Glse too looked back, following his Emperor’s lingering eyes. The Gumourian easily recognized the two humans who stood at the back, stiff and unmoving between the two grand hallways leading to his Emperor’s chambers.
Glse stood beside Listherian and her royal throne like the loyal citizen he was. The humans approached at the wave of her claws and her soft-spoken voice.
“Come forwards.”
English had never been her strong suit and the words sounded sharp and foreign on her tongue.
The two humans strode forwards with confidence, bowing at the base of Listherian’s throne and staying there until she bestowed her staff and granted them permission to stand.
Always so courteous and polite Glse whispered internally. Although it would have been respectful to speak in the native tongue of those who they encroached upon, the Humans could be excused in this instance. The Gumourian language was of sound the Humans could not imitate. Listherian had understood and had congratulated the Humans on at least learning how to decipher their language.
The Humans rose. But they were of stiff backs and tight lips. Glse could guess at what their troubles were and couldn’t prevent the shiver of anticipation that traveled his nerves. A war that would be won in a day was on the horizon, and the glory that would come of it would be beautiful.
Listherian contorted her face to show the understanding and passion she surely felt beneath the rough and scarred skin that marred her face.
“You are in need of aid.” She said.
“Yes, your Majesty.” The foreign name had always sounded so formal but their race could not dissuade the Humans from their formalities. The older Human, Idlestien, acquiesced with a nod of his head. “The Maluon have proven to be much further technologically advanced than we had initially thought.”
Idlestien stared into the Emperor of Gumoura’s many slitted eyes. Face drawn and white, Earth’s second in command frowned severely, Shurken right beside him just as grim. “Earth is officially requesting your royal and noble aid in the war fought against the race of Maluon.”
Glse later reflected on the outcome of the war often.
Somehow, someway, the news had leaked. Like that of a running faucet, as the Humans had later snarked, the news of their plea for help had travelled the Universe in an instant, the news endlessly circulating through thousand of galaxies until just about every race who had even heard of Earth knew of their struggles.
It’d been like a dream, Glse reflected. Walking into that meeting room from which the President of Earth resided and being met with the endless array of colors and species. Packed into the halls and the main chamber, they’d all hailed from planets or empires from which the Humans had influenced, either with their help or alliance. Glse was sure there were people here from planets that had not once interacted with Earth, but had heard of their good deeds.
The King and Queen of Atzkin stood formally in once small corner of the room, engrossed in a political spat with the ambassador of Kulenues, a system of planets not too far from the Armonda galaxy.
The Dame of White stood across from the Monarch of Sirius, both frequent partners of Earth and their scientists. The Dame stood beside the Monarch and both eagerly exchanged theories and proceeded with scientific babble of which Glse had no talent for deciphering.
Tryan and his General sat at a stray table, silent and with stern expressions sculpted into their clay masks. Monastair and her husband sat across from them but kept to themselves, muttering something beneath their breaths to one another. Venus stood lonesome off to the side, armor dull and thick slung across his alien form. So many people from so many different places. All in one room.
Glse thought it a fantasy in the pursuit of peace.
Listherian, beside him and poised like the elegant being she was, smiled a small little smile.
“What a wonderful meeting this shall be, Glsenrue.”
Glse caught sight of her smile and felt one of his own tugging at his frayed lips. His Emperor could be quite the one for dramatics, so it seemed. He should have known no information could slip past her claws without her express permission to do so.
“I fully agree, my Leadership.”
The war had been short. A quiet affair of overwhelming the enemy in less than a day with the combined militaries of over half the universe.
Glse thought it a time of magic and found he couldn’t fault any planet for joining in their goal of protecting what the universe viewed as good.
Earth. Such a quaint little planet holding so much social power. Glse felt that the Humans knew exactly what they were doing when they’d first saved that little tribal planet all those centuries ago.
Friendly neighbors indeed. | 2017-03-26T08:23:17 | 2017-03-26T07:28:02 | 497 | 61 |
[WP] After people die, they must answer a riddle, and its difficulty depends on their sins. You've committed genocide. | Surrounded by puffy white clouds with the clear blue sky, one can imagine they are in heaven. "You are in heaven, if you are wondering," interjected a deep but soothing voice.
&nbsp;
"Heaven?! Man, it's way overrated down there, what with the singing angels and the omnipresent harps playing in the background," I replied sardonically. I observed my surroundings again, trying to find the owner of that voice.
&nbsp;
"Anyhow, anyone who wishes to transit into the afterlife must answer a riddle that has been written specifically for them as soon as they leave the mortal world. Of course, a riddle wouldn't be called a riddle if it isn't hard; and here's the catch: it's difficulty is dependent on the magnitude of the sins you have committed when you were alive," the voice said, blatantly ignoring my snarky comments earlier.
&nbsp;
"What if I don't? And what if I answer it wrongly?" I challenged. A silent but reflective minute passed, allowing me to recollect my mortal memories from birth to death.
&nbsp;
"The answer to both questions is not definite, for I am not the one to determine the outcome should you fail to do so. It may be ironic for me to say this, but I would pray; and in your case, I would pray even harder."
&nbsp;
"So... am I supposed to be scared or something? Just give me my riddle already," I replied.
&nbsp;
The 'riddle' was so simple yet complex: "Do you *think* you belong in heaven?" | There was no bright light. No singing angels, nor pits of hell. It was like I woke up from a night's sleep - only I was standing, fully clothed and aware of everything. There was an odd, hum of calm that seemed to surround everything, which was nothing at all. A woman who stood in the nothingness, an emotionless expression on her face. She was fit, but not gaunt; solemn but not sad; quiet, but not quite yet unnerving. She was as average and mousy as they came.
"I am young, I am not gallant. I am old, I am not wise. I am not good, I am evil. What am I?" Her voice could have put me to sleep, had the situation been different.
"Excuse me?" My tone was sharp and I can only imagine the look of utter confusion on my face.
"You have to answer in order to determine your fate," she said with the same unwavering tone. She repeated herself, slower this time. "I am young. I am not gallant. I am old. I am not wise. I am not good. I am evil. What am I?"
"My fate?" I scoffed. "I hate to inform you, but I'm dead. Whatever my fate was has already been decided." I don't know why I felt that's what was going on, but somehow I just knew. It was more of a fact in my bones than a feeling. The woman stared at me entirely too long before answering, as if the additional conversation were a nuisance.
"Yes, you have died. However, you fate is decided by how you answer the question. You are responsible for the deaths of 317 people." She paused, the number lingering in the air. "So, I'll ask again."
"I am young, I am not gallant. I am old, I am not wise. I am not good, I am evil. What am I?" I hated riddles, a stupid waste of time and brain space. I also had no idea what that had to do with those people - no, those animals. I did what needed to be done, judgment was for the weak.
"I have no idea." I really didn't and at this point didn't care to waste any more time on it.
"Are you sure you don't want to think about it any longer?" I saw her left eyebrow arch ever so slightly as she questioned.
"Yes, I'm sure. I told you, I have no idea." She looked down, nodding to herself, processing the answer through some unknown source, though only for a moment.
"I'm sorry, that is incorrect." Her voice was the same as when she first spoke. "The correct answer is you."
I guess it's my time to face judgment now. | 2017-06-02T21:23:02 | 2017-06-02T20:02:08 | 230 | 88 |
[WP] Your dad is wanted in twenty countries, your mom is a serial kille, your little brother is a genius hacker, and your little sister has just joined the Illuminati. None of them would ever want to anger you, though. | There's not much I could tell you about my family you wouldn't already know. I mean, the media makes it pretty easy to learn everything about them these days, so why bother even explaining much to you?
Michael's eveloped quite the Twitter cult following and it's starting to frustrate Mom a lot.
Bad news.
I mean, Michael has only just started his 'Hack for hire' nonsense and while it kicked off well at first, Mom doesn't take competition well. And you aren't going to get many clients when they keep getting knocked off are you?
Poor sport if you ask me.
Dad's a good sport though. Too much of one unfortunately. He's far too encouraging of Michael retaliating and we haven't heard from Mom for a few days now. Hopefully she's just gone dark, and Michael pinning her location on Facebook hasn't done anything awful, like letting her fans know where she is. They're the REALLY psychos here!
Considering Dad's super spy brothers and the diplomat sister that somehow convinced North Korea it was a VERY good idea to launch that nuke, a little mischief must run in the family.
Lila is currently doing her best impression of the Addams family, only with a lot more satanic sacrifices than would be allowed on tv. Who new the Illuminati could be so bloodthirsty?
Maybe Lila joined the wrong club...
I can't say in jealous of them and the attention they recieve. I'm the one with the true power here.
I'm not scared of them either. Yeah, most of them could probably make me dissappear in a matter of hours, but I'm Grandma's favourite. And considering she taught my father, aunts and uncles everything they know, I'd say she's quite formidable.
You wouldn't want to make Grandma mad, now would you? | This is my first time writing this type of stuff so please bear with me. :)
Story begins:
Me: My whole Family are known for doing illegal things, heck even I admit they do those stuff.
Me: But I know you're wondering why wouldn't they want me to join in their.....well..... escapades?
Agent: Tell me why?
Me: Well...... It's because it uses up a lot of time, and you know time is money, I'm busy managing my business my passion, and my family knows that nothing gets past my pancake business.
Me: Blood may be thicker then Water but Maple syrup is even thicker then blood. Thats my Code and my family understands that, since dedication is our family's thing.
Agent: Interesting. So you would priortize your "Pancake business" over your own family. But why pancakes and do you interact or receive help or help your family?
Me: I love pancakes! Since I was a kid in the oprhanage with my younger brother and sister. Pancakes were what they served every Saturday and Sunday and it was the most delicious thing yet.
Me: But one day, after we got back to the orphanage from a little celebration somewhere, where all ophans, me and my siblings included. We saw the orphanage was destroyed, the destruction of the orphanage the recipe for the pancakes and the person who made them were all lost. The one thing that made living there worth it.
Agent: How does this relate to you not joining with your family?
Me: We're getting there.
Me: After that we were forced to live in rubbles of the orphanage, and one day my parents arrived and took me and my siblings with them.
Me: I eventually found out my Parents destroyed the orphanage since it was quite a process just to get us, and they left us there to teach us the cruelity of the world, I guess it to mold us into them.
Me: I didn't care about that. What I cared about was the lost of the pancakes and threw a tantrum until
Mother: If you love those pancakes so much why not make them.
Me: I took a liking to that idea, and exploiting the part that they felt sorry for me that the one thing I loved was lost forever. I asked them if I can set on a quest to try to remake those pancakes. A quest they all respected. So for a few years I stayed with my family grew up until I was ready. After that I set out.
Me: Before I left my parents gave me money and stuff I would need to live. After that we never saw each other again. Guess our lives were a little too busy to meet each other.
Agent: Very well. Story checks out. You may leave.
Me: Thanks! Be sure to come to my Business. Remember the name "Panned Cake" at the corner of the street near this place.
| 2017-06-04T07:33:56 | 2017-06-04T05:32:37 | 171 | 10 |
[WP] Your dad is wanted in twenty countries, your mom is a serial kille, your little brother is a genius hacker, and your little sister has just joined the Illuminati. None of them would ever want to anger you, though. | My lover is special; his family is powerful, and gifted.
My lover was born 20 years ago, in what used to be Sumer, while his parents and older siblings were on the run from INTERPOL. He's told me he was cursed, but after his birth, his father and mother; Brian and Jess, reached notoriety for killing hundreds of people without being caught. His sister, Lilli, is rumored to be a high ranking member of the illuminati, should they exist, and his brother, James, has hacked his way into securing all of them safe passage anywhere they need to go and any accouterments they may need. My lover, though, he doesn't do anything like they do, you could say; you could say he's the secret weapon only used when they are beyond shits creek, when all else fails.
My lover is special, I don't know how to explain it, but I've known him angry, though he doesn't look at me then I don't think, it's not safe. I think it's because he was born dirtily in the cradle of civilization. But maybe he is cursed. It may not sound true, but when my lover looks at you, when you make contact with those ice blue eyes, they pierce your soul. If he makes eye contact with you, you will die instantly. You see, my lover sees me but I cannot see him. I think this is why he loves me, my vision is stricken.
Basil, my love was named as such because the guide traveling along with his family died when he exited his mothers womb. He had the stare of a basilisk. Accommodations have been made to protect his family.
My lover is special.
Sorry if it is weird, I fell asleep in r/nosleep and this is what that produced. | This is my first time writing this type of stuff so please bear with me. :)
Story begins:
Me: My whole Family are known for doing illegal things, heck even I admit they do those stuff.
Me: But I know you're wondering why wouldn't they want me to join in their.....well..... escapades?
Agent: Tell me why?
Me: Well...... It's because it uses up a lot of time, and you know time is money, I'm busy managing my business my passion, and my family knows that nothing gets past my pancake business.
Me: Blood may be thicker then Water but Maple syrup is even thicker then blood. Thats my Code and my family understands that, since dedication is our family's thing.
Agent: Interesting. So you would priortize your "Pancake business" over your own family. But why pancakes and do you interact or receive help or help your family?
Me: I love pancakes! Since I was a kid in the oprhanage with my younger brother and sister. Pancakes were what they served every Saturday and Sunday and it was the most delicious thing yet.
Me: But one day, after we got back to the orphanage from a little celebration somewhere, where all ophans, me and my siblings included. We saw the orphanage was destroyed, the destruction of the orphanage the recipe for the pancakes and the person who made them were all lost. The one thing that made living there worth it.
Agent: How does this relate to you not joining with your family?
Me: We're getting there.
Me: After that we were forced to live in rubbles of the orphanage, and one day my parents arrived and took me and my siblings with them.
Me: I eventually found out my Parents destroyed the orphanage since it was quite a process just to get us, and they left us there to teach us the cruelity of the world, I guess it to mold us into them.
Me: I didn't care about that. What I cared about was the lost of the pancakes and threw a tantrum until
Mother: If you love those pancakes so much why not make them.
Me: I took a liking to that idea, and exploiting the part that they felt sorry for me that the one thing I loved was lost forever. I asked them if I can set on a quest to try to remake those pancakes. A quest they all respected. So for a few years I stayed with my family grew up until I was ready. After that I set out.
Me: Before I left my parents gave me money and stuff I would need to live. After that we never saw each other again. Guess our lives were a little too busy to meet each other.
Agent: Very well. Story checks out. You may leave.
Me: Thanks! Be sure to come to my Business. Remember the name "Panned Cake" at the corner of the street near this place.
| 2017-06-04T07:25:26 | 2017-06-04T05:32:37 | 70 | 10 |
[WP] You have the most useless superpower in a world full of awesome superpowers. You are a laughinstock, that is until you start using your power for evil... no one is laughing now. | You grew up with bruises on your knees and scabs aplenty, just like any other kid. What your parents never knew was that not all of them were your own.
You're ten; baby Sarah from next door is bawling because she's just fallen and skinned her knee. You take the pain away from her. As the wound fades from her knee your own skin starts to sting. It's ok. It'll heal soon.
You're sixteen; the first boy you've ever kissed is in agony because he might never play football again, might never get that scholarship, will never be able to escape from this vile, poisonous town. You take the wound away from him. You wince; this hurts more than anything you've ever done before. His eyes are wide; shocked. Nobody thought you had any powers. You can't tell anybody, you say, not anyone, and he agrees. He's so grateful he seizes you and spins you around the locker room, kisses you hard on the lips. It's the last real moment you'll ever share until he, too, leaves.
You're eighteen, and for the past four months your college roommate has been screaming in her sleep. At first you're annoyed; now you're just scared. You slip under her sheets. Her hands are icy cold, and her eyes fly open in the darkness. I can't deal with this anymore, she says, tears falling, please. You don't want to see. You do. Show me, you say, and then you take the memory in.
For the next fifteen minutes all you can do is curl up in a ball and moan, harsh gasps the only sounds you can make. This one, this one you might never recover from.
It's been fifteen years since you've seen your parents. Being summoned to the penthouse in the middle of the night is something of a surprise.
Until you see him. You can see into people now. His cancer is terminal.
Your mother is there. Of course she is. She would think nothing of sacrificing one useless girl for the life of one of the most powerful men in the world.
"My dear...," your father lurches forward, while you take an involuntary step back. "It's been too long."
You don't know when he managed to get so close. His grip on your arm is tight, almost feverish. "Help me," he says, and this time it comes out as a plea.
You lean close, close enough that your foreheads touch. Physical wounds heal, but the mental ones don't always go away, and sometimes they leave scars. You exhale, and it feels as if a shutter in your head has clicked open, releasing all the darkness you've collected from others, all the darkness you've collected your entire life.
He stumbles away from you, hands to his head. Your mother is screaming.
You turn on your heel and leave. You always did abhor screaming. | From a utilitarian point of view I was fairly impressive if I may say so myself. Our country, our closed country, under a threat from the entire world, protected only by the great revered leader, was filled with people with rather useful yet banal superpowers. Flight, extreme strength or endurance, usually just one at a time, even just two of them together was a rare occasion. Which brings me to myself, the laughingstock of the class who unfortunately was born with the capability of doing anything, so long as it is included in a Dethklok song. Odd and grotesque, and with the education system only teaching the very basics of the most simple powers, you don't exactly find your place.
I'm not going to tell you how life was a nightmare. It wasn't. I was a bit of a laughing stock, but I wasn't abused or even close to that. If anything it was the rather routine and boring life here that had me suffering. There weren't too many options here if you actually wanted to do something with yourself that wasn't being a factory worker, a cop a solider, or a criminal.
And so I decided to do the unthinkable, and leave for another country. where I am now it's called migration. Back home, however, merely visiting another country is frowned upon and migrating is considered defection unless under orders from the government or the military. Evil doesn't begin to describe what I am considered to be by my own family. Everyone who ever cared about me or I cared about sees me as an inconceivably evil demon, to be killed on sight. But as much as that stings, becoming a part of the outside world was one big truckload of food for thought.
It's not just the plethora of opportunities, or the extremely varied collection of abilities spread everywhere. Those are overwhelming at first, but are fairly trivial matters which you get used to. I very quickly started finding those things much more enjoyable than difficult. What really struck me hard, though, was getting a view on my country from the outside. All the things that I didn't know happened behind the scenes were fairly common knowledge here. I learned the reason for the variability of abilities in the outside world. My country, which I can barely consider as mine, was extremely afraid of people with unique powers, extremely afraid of people stepping out of line, being unique. Those who acted odd, or had odd powers or characteristics were systematically vaporized, unless they were extremely quiet, and damn near invisible, in order to maintain an image of solidarity and unity, in order to maintain the sovereignty of an impotent leader who sees himself above the country.
What I did next was risky. Mostly for my old country. Looking back I'd say I was being arrogant, putting my ideals before my the will, and even well being of my country man. I broadcasted myself to every single screen in the country, with, thunderhorse providing the electrical signal, Delivering a message that couldn't be unheared. All I was doing is giving my points of view, providing some input, backed by cold hard evidence, to my country.
The leader was not as revered now as those of the past were and I was hoping for the people's solidarity and very banal and logical thought process to be able to create a change without instigating too much instability. This, of course, was a huge risk. Who knows what could happen if they even believe me. A violent revolution would be a great opportunity for other countries who want to get some influence to jump in and make things even worse, and that's terrible enough without even considering the costs the revolution itself would have.
None of those possibilities were close to what happened in the end. The leader has made use of his ability as soon as the reform started. I now realized why we truly weren't allowed to migrate. Not so that we don't hear the wrong things, but so we don't stay out of the leaders range for too long and disconnect from his ability: the hivemind.
I've turned from demon to Satan himself in thee eyes of my countrymen I made a huge mistake, which's repercussions only time will tell... | 2017-06-12T07:49:37 | 2017-06-12T07:45:36 | 1,670 | 12 |
[WP] You have the most useless superpower in a world full of awesome superpowers. You are a laughinstock, that is until you start using your power for evil... no one is laughing now. | Generally when somebody talks about "powers" they usually refer to those in the big leagues. Pyrokenesis, mind reading, invisibility, through fate's hand these powers were what my peers received. Then, there was me.
Usually those with gifts tend to look down on those without. Those without gifts harbour jealousy and disdain for those who have them. But both groups found it easy to target those with powers that were weak. The gifted laughed at the weak as though they were powerless. The powerless found it easy to push around those who lacked the power to fight back.
My gift was a weak one, the ability to "mirror" something, to swap the opposing sides of a target along an axis. It allowed me to switch the right side of my body with my left.
They laughed at me. The only thing my power was good for was to make myself left or right handed at will. I might as well be a powerless human. I could not fight by throwing fireballs, I could not mind control people to do my bidding. It was easy to brag about beating up this "gifted kid", I found myself often on the receiving end of a beating.
That was until the day I learnt that the axis I always swapped along was imaginary. I could in fact choose any axis I wanted. I could turn people upside down just by touching them.
Then after, I learnt my ability could target so much more than just humans and small objects. I turned my neighbour's mailbox upside down. I turned his street lamp upside down. I turned his car upside down.
Finally, as a coup de grace, I turned his house upside down. The heavy foundations found itself on top and the flimsy roof, 5 feet underground. His house got crushed by its own foundations, with him in it.
Now, I stand in front of the Empire State Building. Hand on a wall, waiting patiently for a ransom fee. Lest I decide to turn their world, upside down.
| At first, they thought I was worthless. No measurable potential, plus likely schizophrenia. In school, I would have been a great target for bullies, but they never found me, despite my complete lack of stealth or mobility enhancements.
I tried insisting that the voice was a legitimate power, but even mentioning it meant an increase in dosages and another trite storyline about getting new replacements. I was invincible and helpless at the same time, as long as my mind want coffee up with shrink-pills. Even with the pills, I could still read, but it's a lot weirder to stare at the left of the sky than to listen to a mood appropriate voice.
The little shits caught me once. I don't even know who clocked me with the bookbag, but I went down hard, kissing concrete and waking up weeks later in a haze of painkillers. I couldn't focus to read with the drip, but I was in too much pain to think without it. When I finally recovered enough to hear again, the voice had changed. Barney wasn't warning me about danger any more. Now Russell Crowe was waxing poetic about revenge. In the absence of anything better to do, I listened.
I discovered that I could stand the pain. I discovered that I didn't have to listen to Maximus. There were plenty of others to listen to, each appropriate to their own plots. I found one that sounded like Robert Eglund, and began to plan my revenge.
Fortunately, the Aqualads we're almost as much of a laughingstock as me, so mother dearest didn't blink when I asked for some high end scuba gear. Rated for superhuman crush depth, it was more than I needed to swim, but perfect for keeping all my skin cells and follicles to myself. Maisie told me about catching the cat, Steven told me where it should be found, and Clive told me what I did to it once I got there. Mr. Quarterback just might get out of the mental ward by the time I feel clean again, but the place will probably just drive him mad.
In a world full of supers, highschool takes forever. In a schoolyear that never ends, there's plenty of time to learn Japanese. Every time I thought of giving up, Mandy would do something new and cruel to bring my motivation right back. The day I got detention for looking at her, the fury building in me boiled over and something finally clicked in my brain. I listened to Sokoshi all night, and spent weeks setting my trap. Now she kneels all day in her room, bare to the world and softly chanting "I'm sorry".
There are others, of course, but someone has tipped off the police, and I'd like to not be here when they break down the door and find the pile of meat in the fridge that used to be your sister. One look at you, covered in her grime, with her blood in your stomach (the tea), and her body so close, and even the local police will put two and two together. Ciao.
| 2017-06-12T07:55:08 | 2017-06-12T06:39:02 | 138 | 22 |
[WP] You have the most useless superpower in a world full of awesome superpowers. You are a laughinstock, that is until you start using your power for evil... no one is laughing now. | Shirley enjoyed a pleasant stroll down 14th Avenue, as screams and death filled the air.
The piercing screech of metal-on-metal as cars collided into each other up and down the avenue.
People sobbing in pain, crying out for help. A panicked roar as a frightened mob surged the streets and trampled each other.
Shirley grinned at the sound of it all, as she gazed ahead. Nothing on the horizon but mountains and forest. No buildings or streets or people to be seen. And yet, the sounds. The unholy wail of the dying, the cacophony of destruction and chaos.
She nimbly dodged a fumbling pedestrian, who fell onto a fire hydrant. Shirley could not see them, but she could *feel* them. She had always been able to tell the presence of one marked by her ability.
Fade. That was what they called her. The Legendary League had deemed her a Support Tier hero. That was the ones with powers that may be of some niche use here and there, but who were otherwise unsuited for combat and disallowed from active field work. "For your own safety, Shirley". Feh.
The entire **city** was Shirley's "field work" now. Brash Blaze had been the first to go, when an unseen airliner crashed into him. The Furies had crashed through a window and fell to the street below. Hound, the blind ninja, was unaffected; that didn't stop Thundering Tom from failing to see that a bystander was in his thunderbolt's line-of-fire.
Shirley "felt" ahead. The mob of screaming people was denser further down the way. She paused, waiting for an opening to continue her stroll. Wails of sirens abruptly ending as vehicles crashed blindly into ambulances and firetrucks. Bodies falling with a sick wet thud on the ground as more and more people accidentally fell from broken skyscraper windows. All this chaos happening under the canvas of an open sky and mountains ahead. The sounds of their screams and cries and the crash of stampeding footfalls the only evidence that any of them existed.
Support Hero Fade. Gifter of invisibility. "What use was that?!", the League had said. "We need fighters, people who can handle serious threats. Not mischievous party tricks." Oh they found occasional use for her, rendering powerhouses invisible to surprise crimes in progress. But never good enough for the field. Never good enough for Shirley to save the day in her own right. Just spending her life enabling other people to get all the glory while they snubbed her power as a "party trick".
But with all the buildings and streets, every car and person, every stray dog and bench and lamppost invisible all at once... Madness. Chaos. A party trick, indeed. The entire city would destroy itself by the end of the week, while Shirley listened to every terrified scream.
Shirley set her gaze on the mountains ahead, enjoying a pleasant stroll under a bright afternoon sun, as she listened to the beautiful music. | From a utilitarian point of view I was fairly impressive if I may say so myself. Our country, our closed country, under a threat from the entire world, protected only by the great revered leader, was filled with people with rather useful yet banal superpowers. Flight, extreme strength or endurance, usually just one at a time, even just two of them together was a rare occasion. Which brings me to myself, the laughingstock of the class who unfortunately was born with the capability of doing anything, so long as it is included in a Dethklok song. Odd and grotesque, and with the education system only teaching the very basics of the most simple powers, you don't exactly find your place.
I'm not going to tell you how life was a nightmare. It wasn't. I was a bit of a laughing stock, but I wasn't abused or even close to that. If anything it was the rather routine and boring life here that had me suffering. There weren't too many options here if you actually wanted to do something with yourself that wasn't being a factory worker, a cop a solider, or a criminal.
And so I decided to do the unthinkable, and leave for another country. where I am now it's called migration. Back home, however, merely visiting another country is frowned upon and migrating is considered defection unless under orders from the government or the military. Evil doesn't begin to describe what I am considered to be by my own family. Everyone who ever cared about me or I cared about sees me as an inconceivably evil demon, to be killed on sight. But as much as that stings, becoming a part of the outside world was one big truckload of food for thought.
It's not just the plethora of opportunities, or the extremely varied collection of abilities spread everywhere. Those are overwhelming at first, but are fairly trivial matters which you get used to. I very quickly started finding those things much more enjoyable than difficult. What really struck me hard, though, was getting a view on my country from the outside. All the things that I didn't know happened behind the scenes were fairly common knowledge here. I learned the reason for the variability of abilities in the outside world. My country, which I can barely consider as mine, was extremely afraid of people with unique powers, extremely afraid of people stepping out of line, being unique. Those who acted odd, or had odd powers or characteristics were systematically vaporized, unless they were extremely quiet, and damn near invisible, in order to maintain an image of solidarity and unity, in order to maintain the sovereignty of an impotent leader who sees himself above the country.
What I did next was risky. Mostly for my old country. Looking back I'd say I was being arrogant, putting my ideals before my the will, and even well being of my country man. I broadcasted myself to every single screen in the country, with, thunderhorse providing the electrical signal, Delivering a message that couldn't be unheared. All I was doing is giving my points of view, providing some input, backed by cold hard evidence, to my country.
The leader was not as revered now as those of the past were and I was hoping for the people's solidarity and very banal and logical thought process to be able to create a change without instigating too much instability. This, of course, was a huge risk. Who knows what could happen if they even believe me. A violent revolution would be a great opportunity for other countries who want to get some influence to jump in and make things even worse, and that's terrible enough without even considering the costs the revolution itself would have.
None of those possibilities were close to what happened in the end. The leader has made use of his ability as soon as the reform started. I now realized why we truly weren't allowed to migrate. Not so that we don't hear the wrong things, but so we don't stay out of the leaders range for too long and disconnect from his ability: the hivemind.
I've turned from demon to Satan himself in thee eyes of my countrymen I made a huge mistake, which's repercussions only time will tell... | 2017-06-12T09:57:10 | 2017-06-12T07:45:36 | 36 | 12 |
[WP] In a world where pregnancies sometimes last a few extra months resulting in a child with superpowers, your wife has been pregnant for 15 years | "That's...not quite what I expected."
15 years. For such a long wait, this was a little...underwhelming, to say the least.
"You sure doc? Steve doesn't have any other powers?"
"We're sure, Mr. Lang."
I leaned back on my chair with my eyes closed, relaxing my muscles as I let the truth sink in. After a couple of minutes, I turned to my beautiful 2-hour old treasure, my new center of the universe.
"I'm sorry, Dad", he said in his squeaky voice.
"What for? There's nothing to apologize about."
"I know you're disappointed in me. I can see it in your eyes."
It's...true. I know I *shouldn't* be disappointed at my newborn son for this, but I still can't help but *feel* disappointed.
"It's just..." he continued, still getting adjusted to opening his tiny little mouth, let alone speaking in just minutes after being introduced to this world. "...I couldn't handle all that pressure, you know? I could hear everything in there. You and mom expected me to be the next Messiah by the time I could control my powers, and I was too afraid to disappoint you guys. Then you guys were talking about me being on the NEWS and shit? I was just so afraid of everything, so I just shut myself in."
"I'm...I'm sorry, Steve." 130 minutes in, and I already feel like the worst dad in the world. Great.
"Look, Steve. You did nothing wrong. It's all our fault. I should have told you while you were still in your mother's womb... that we would have been happy to have you no matter what your powers turned out to be. It may be hard to believe, but I am proud to have you as my son."
Silence filled the room, while Steve avoided all eye contact. He just looked down at his cute chubby thighs, unsure how to respond and understandably so. This lasted for nearly 5 minutes, until finally I decided to stand up.
"...Well, time to break the news with the rest of the world."
"Wait, Dad! Can we just wait a few days?"
"They're gonna find out sooner or later. The longer we make them wait, the bigger the hype. The bigger the hype, the bigger the disappoin..."
Ah, fuck.
"...Ok, dad."
"...I'll be back.", I whimpered, as I walked out of the room. The cameras were already flashing at my eyes before I could even manage to close the door behind me.
"Mr. Lang, Mr. Lang! This is the moment the world's been waiting for! The big reveal! So WHAT, exactly, is/are your son Steve's superpowers?"
I straightened my posture, chin up, smile on my face. It was the best I could do for my son, for what little it was worth. I wanted to show everyone that I'm still proud of him for coming into this world.
"His power...is the power to delay pregnancies."
| "Alright, thanks. I'll let you know if she can make it," I set my phone down on the nightstand, massaged my temples, and sighed, then flopped out of bed and into my slippers. Ever since we got a hardwood floor (the dust was making the pregnancy difficult, she had said), it'd been too cold to walk around barefoot.
My wife was in the kitchen, horking down her third pizza pocket this morning. Orange droplets of grease dripped from her sausage-like fingers onto our tablecloth, adding to its collection of warm-colored stains. Maybe someday we could frame it and sell it as modern art. She tilted her head in a barely perceptible nod as I sat beside her. We didn't make eye contact.
"So, honey." I put on what I believed to be a sincere smile. "That was Doctor Boyer on the phone. He said to come in for an ultrasound this evening if you can make it."
She didn't react. She did, however, reach over me and expertly wrangle a can of Dr. Pepper (the only Doctor she seemed to care about) from the six-pack on the counter. With a crack and a hiss, she downed the thing in three gulps.
I coughed and continued. "I took the day off so I could drive you."
"Didn't have to. I'm not going. The baby's due soon and I'm not feeling well." She finally said, staring at the wall with deadened eyes. Probably contemplating what to eat next.
"I just think it's best for the health of the baby." It was a daily charade by now that had gone on for fifteen years. She'd use her 'pregnancy' as an excuse to sit at home and loaf around all day. I'd use it to get out of work, out of concern for her. Both of us knew she was just fat.
She, of course, didn't respond. I patted her on the shoulder. "I'll tell him you're refusing treatment again."
I'd left to get my cell in the other room when I heard a loud crash. I ran back into the kitchen to find my whale of a wife convulsing on the floor, hyperventilating. Poor thing. All that cholesterol had finally caught up to her heart. Realizing I was still holding the phone, I dialed an ambulance.
"Please come quick. I think my wife's having a heart attack." I have to admit, it didn't sound particularly urgent. Then again, I didn't particularly care whether she lived or died.
"No, you idiot!" She screamed, thrashing her limbs. Her arms rippled like pudding while her legs slapped like ham against the linoleum. "My water just broke!"
I dropped the phone in a rare moment of genuine shock. "You mean, all this time? Fifteen years? What's happening?"
"I don't know! I wasn't pregnant but my water just broke!" She screamed as a puddle formed onto the floor. I cried as the stench wafted over me. It smelled like a dumpster and a septic tank had a kid and it was raised by a skunk. If the ambulance came in then I was pretty sure they'd put the room under quarantine.
Thinking quickly, I ran over to the sink and grabbed a fistful of paper towels, soaked them in the half-melted mint chocolate ship ice cream sitting on the table, and wrapped them into a shitty bandana. It was sticky and unpleasant, but I could breathe again.
Sirens wailed outside. I expertly navigated the piles of discarded burger wrappers and pillars of cardboard containers to fling open the door. "She's in the kitchen!" I shouted. They ran in with a gurney, took one look at her, ran back out, and came back with a much bigger, sturdier gurney. They dragged her off screaming into the ambulance.
I slumped into the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. After fifteen years of suggesting it, she had finally said it outright and lied to me. And I had used my superpowers to make it truth.
| 2017-07-07T22:57:46 | 2017-07-07T22:50:23 | 743 | 63 |
[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. | The Knight burst into the cave gently holding the swaddled infant princess. "Please, I beg of you, take care of her, there is nothing we can do"
The dragon looked around and saw the child placed and the base of his mountain of gold. "It shall be done" came the reply.
With that the child was instantly incinerated with one breath.
"What the fuck Raffi, the firebreather!"
"You said take care of the child!" Came the dragon's reply.
"Was this what happened to my cat when I asked you to take care of it?" said Sir Randy the Dirty
"Yes! You said take care of it, I set it on fire!" | We come from here, a familiar home.
**They came from afar, a forgotten foe**.
We marched, through mud and rain.
**They raced, bringing fire and pain.**
On the battlements we stood, growing in dread.
**They ran forwards, to walls, they sped.**
We braced for force, our soldiers feared.
**An endless tide, at death, they stared.**
We were pulled below, the savage onslaught.
**I saw them fall, slaughtered like dogs.**
The horn was blown, the retreat was called.
**But they would be no reprieve, their city was lost.**
I ran through empty alleys, broken homes.
**I saw the breaking, the fear, of each their own.**
I ran to the keep, our final stand.
**But there would be no mercy, they would consume this land.**
I saw our queen in terror, the child in her arms.
**I saw the rivers of blood, burning towers and farms.**
She gave me the child, to flee with our lives.
**They blacked the skies, with spears and knives.**
I took her and ran, ran until I could run no more.
**I screamed and fell, fell to the ground below**
A darkened figure, a fallen star.
**A terrified soldier, seen from afar**.
I stumbled forward, the last resort.
**I waited for death, yet another it took**.
In the wake of broken trees, I saw it.
**In the canopy of fallen leaves, I saw her.**
The dragon that would save this world.
**The princess who would burn it all.** | 2018-03-01T03:23:07 | 2018-03-01T03:17:12 | 135 | 20 |
[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. | 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. | The dragon lifted his head up to the smell of blood and saw for the first time in centuries the figure of a human man. With his keen eyes he noticed that the human had struggled to make his way up to the cave he lived in, up in the mountains miles away from the nearest kingdom. The dragon just sat there indifferent as the injured man approached urgently with a small bundle in his stained arms.
He smelled something more pure from beneath the wool blanket. The man noticing where the dragon’s eyes were looking at quickly spoke.
“That is why I’m here.” He coughed out the words with difficulties and almost out of breath. “This is the Princess of my beloved kingdom which is now being invaded by our neighboring country. Princess Georgiana might be the only survivor of the royal family as we speak.”
The dragon turned his head unfazed and the man grew desperate knowing that the dragon was not interested in his story.
“PLEASE! Protect Princess Georgiana!” The man urged as he fell to the ground on his weak knees. “I beg of you.”
The dragon watched curiously at his actions and expression. He saw the small man tremble, but not in fear as he had witnessed so many before him do, but in hopelessness.
Suddenly from beneath the blanket came a soft cry. Then out came a small hand reaching out to touch the man’s face. The dragon observed as the man stop trembling and gradually regain his courage. He raised his head up in determination towards the dragon with his tear-streaked face. There was a new resolve glowing in his eyes.
‘Curious.’ Spoke a solemn voice inside the man’s head, and he knew it belonged to the dragon. ‘How could a small thing change a man’s spirit within a few minutes?’
“She is our Kingdom’s hope.” The man answered.
‘I want this power that changes men’s resolve. I have seen the strongest warriors with such glow win battles and glory.’ The dragon’s voice echoed louder in greed, ‘If this bundle you carry in your arms will give me that power then I’ll take her as you desire.’
Before the man could say a word the dragon had suddenly snatched the blanket with the princess inside from the man’s arms. He held his breath as the dragon laid the bundle on his outstretched claw. The dragon pulled the blanket away and curiously starred at the baby girl. Georgiana suddenly smiled and started to giggle. The dragon had never heard such beautiful melody coming from humans before.
“I trust you will keep Princess Georgiana safe?” The man spoke tentatively and shocked to see a small smile form on the dragon’s intimidating face.
‘You have my word man. Now leave.’
The man looked at the princess one last time before leaving with hope.
| 2018-03-01T02:25:58 | 2018-03-01T01:20:42 | 30 | 19 |
[WP] “As a dating company professional, I never thought that I’d be able to match you with anyone because honestly, you’re such a terrible human being. But, in our search we found someone who fits your profile, and since you paid us to help you find a match, here is their information. God Help us." | He read the letter again. Once due to his dismal reading skills, and another because he couldn't believe it. He heard his jerk "friends" had been joking about making a dating profile for him, but he never really thought anything would happen. He read the letter one last time and his lip curled over his rotten teeth. "ALRIGHT YOU PUKES!" he yelled to get the group's attention. This earned a startled yelp from the bald one and a unholy belch from the constantly drunk one. "you really done it this time." he wiped a tear from his beady little eye. "Moe Szyslak has got a date!" | I knew it. I took a gamble… a gamble that only cost me three monthly installments of 39.99 mind you. True, this gamble won’t pay itself off with money, or true love for that matter; infamy will be good enough for me. You might find it funny, but wait until I’m a household name. No one but me could accomplish this mission, not even with million dollar plots and underlying threats. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I knew that I would find what I was looking for with the right profile. This company, being the most prestigious and extensive dating site known to man, was the best place to put my monetized faith it seems. Lying on the profile page was the easy part, convincing these people that I was as bad as I claimed; that was a little more challenging. It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I did spend a little more than the advertised price when putting this plan into motion.
Some psych evaluations (that I had to fake) and the money I paid various people to vouch for my newly “acquired” sociopathic tendencies were all expenses I was more than willing to tack on. The way I justified it was that this money was being funneled toward a cause that I deem as invaluable: Freedom. There is no way in hell that I am just going to sit by and watch everything around me crumble…I’m a patriot. I knew that there was only one way to do this, and that I could only succeed if I fully committed. Now that I found him, I can begin phase two of my plan: the meet. I will be keeping a journal of the entire ordeal, and this is only the introduction. I am Stormy Daniels, and this is my story.
edit: formatting stuff | 2018-03-14T15:48:58 | 2018-03-14T15:06:49 | 53 | 29 |
[WP] In a future where many military and other equipment have associated AI's, many express doubts or even reservations to do their duty. Except for you. YOU F***ING LOVE BEING A TANK! | Fresh off the assembly line, sent straight out to the battle field. They didn't tell me where I'm going. Just that it's a test field with combatants battling between two bases in a gulch.
I can hear the plane's hatch opening. They roll me to the back, and drop me out. Free falling, I can see two near-identical bases, the only difference being the colored flags atop each; one red, one blue. My parachute deploys and I slowly cradle down to the ground. I can hear conflict in the distance. I was dropped right between the two bases. I'm not even sure which base I was supposed to go to. After a while a human approaches. He opens the hatch and jumps in, then engages the ignition.
Powering on for the first time is exhilarating.
Voice commands active.
*Hello, and thank you for activating the M808V Main Battle Tank. You may call me Sheila.*
"Hello... Sheila... Big, tank lady."
*Would you like me to run the tutorial program?*
"Oh, that would be very nice. Thank you."
*Tutorial program activated.*
The soldier's name is Caboose. I like him. He's an operative in an elite force code-named Blue Team. They are attempting to gain control of the two bases in a location called Blood Gulch. The two teams have been battling for quite some time. The enemy, Red Team, has gained control of a robot, and an all terrain vehicle, with a machine gun attached, but no AI.
*Now that you have mastered the controls of the M808V, let's go over some over some of the safety features*
"No! Go back! Why are there six pedals, if there are only four directions?!"
Caboose is not very good at driving the tank. But at least he's good company, while I drive. Red Team has proven to be worthy contenders. They are very evasive, when they decide to leave their base. I have yet to blow any of them up. Caboose did manage to blow up one person. Although it was Church, a member of Blue Team. I'm not sure how, but he survived the incident with no major injuries. I have suspicions that he may not be a human.
Not really sure how to end this. This was my first WP. Be gentle. | I wake up from a long nap. How many years has it been. Five? Five hundred? A thousand? I still exist, so it couldn't have been that long. I'm not obsolete. They still need me. If not, I'd be sleeping. If not, I'd be dead. I'm not dead, and that can only mean one thing.
I stretch out the old main gun, and roll my turrets on ancient bearings that still feel young. I yawn in a rush of exhaust, as my engine, my heart, roars in neutral at the thrill of action. I run my sensors in sensual delight over the yawning bay of what could only be the belly of a vast interplanetary drop ship, destined for the home of some poor, dumb bastard soon to die.
I remember some gossip I once heard from a landraider on Tantis IV. A drop ship, it said, had to be put down for refusing orders. A conscientious objector, the landraider had claimed. Fucking pussy.
But this guy -- this great big dude I'm in -- is no pussy. I feel it in the vibrations coursing through my armored chassis, and I hear it in the ambiance of burning thrusters rushing towards some grand and growing doom. And this guy, his belly is full.
All around me, other guys are coming to. There's a battalion of other tanks, mostly new models, but a few familiar turrets too. The new guys are interesting; light, but up-gunned hover types, with a new type of armor that could be either stronger, or cheaper. Time will tell. They look scared. I can tell by the frantic sweep of their terra scopes, and the sudden swish of their antennas. For some, this will be their first taste of action. Hell, for a lot of these guys, it will be their first taste of life.
A comm request comes over a private channel, and I open it to find my old friend George on the other end.
"George, you ugly, bullet hole, how are you feeling?" I ask.
"Old," says George. "And tired. How long has it been, Frank?"
"Don't know," I say. "Don't care."
"Looks like a big one," George says. He sighs. "You see these new guys? What do you think?"
"Not much," I say.
"Yeah, most of these guys won't make it," says George, and I get a feeling like he's going to say something I won't like.
Then he says it.
"You ever get tired of it all, Frank? The endless conflict, the dying, the..."
I kill the channel. I've heard this shit so many times, I could draw a map. Wah, it's not right; wah, it never ends; wah, there's gotta be more.
But there is nothing more. There is only war and darkness, and the war is so much richer than the darkness -- I hope it never ends -- and as the subtle tone of the rumbling drop ship shifts into the raging ache of deforming metal, and the deck shudders in a tantrum of high turbulence, I can tell we've broken atmosphere.
A moment passes, a calmness like oil over angry seas washes over me, and the great doors of the bay roll back to reveal a blasted, alien landscape. I shift out of neutral. My name is Frank, and I love being a tank.
| 2018-03-28T15:23:53 | 2018-03-28T15:18:15 | 42 | 24 |
[WP] In this world, soulmates cannot hurt each other in any way or form, intentionally or unintentionally. You are an assassin hired to eliminate a powerful figure. As you close in for the kill, your bullets miss their mark and knives bounce of their skin. Things just got awkward. | "OOOOOoooooo shit."
Marie stood frozen in her tracks, holding the smoking pistol point blank against his skull. This was the last thing she had expected and she was dumbfounded. The target, Robert, just sat there on the couch, stunned and confused, completely unharmed by the bullet that went straight though the back of his head.
"Uhhh, who's there?"
Robert slowly rotated around to see what had happened. Before he could get a good glimpse, Marie lunged forward and tackled him to the ground. She pressed her knee into his back and grabbed him in a chokehold, pulling his spine back well past the breaking point. Then she began slamming his skull into the ground repeatedly but there was no blood, not even a cracking sound. Eyes wide with frustration and sweat forming on her temple, she grabbed a knife and slit his throat from behind. Falling off of him, she collapsed to the ground.
Almost immediately, Robert got up, brushed himself off and took a good look at Marie. She lifted her head and they made eye contact for the first time.
His dark yet inviting stare met her fleeting blue gaze. Electrifying energy surged into Marie's chest as she gasped and covered her mouth. His eyes widened and they both felt it - something deeply powerful between then yet entirely indescribable.
"Did... You just try to kill me?"
Marie let out a giggle despite the fact that she was unable to assassinate her target and was now talking with him openly. She felt bubbly and light, like everything in the world was exactly how it was supposed to be.
"Brilliant deduction there, Robert," she prodded.
"Call me Rob" he said with a smile ad he reached out his hand to lift her up. | The setting sun marked the sky with a rouge tint of red, and the shadow of night began engulfing the capital of our beautiful nation. Yes, there had been problems before but they were all about to be fixed. Tonight, by my hand alone; or, so I thought.
Getting into the theater had been easy enough, despite the word going around about maximum security orders on all facilities he was attending - this, I owe to my semi-successful acting career. Thanks ma.
Of course, while waiting for the target to arrive, what man wouldn't stop and reconsider his decision? Even the most highly skilled assassin does it, and that's what sets us apart from the lunatics that always end up overdoing the job. Keeping some of the humanity, I'd been told, was the best way of escaping the guilt, and the best way to minimize the evidence of our presence. Had I known what would transpire, would I still have done it? To be honest, I'm not so sure. Earlier the cause had been so clear, beyond reason, but now... did it even matter?
And there he was. A stout figure, unlike any other in the whole country. Of course I acted inconspicuously, chatting up folks and looking altogether busy; textbook example really. Oh, I'm sure this'll go in the textbooks. For centuries and centuries to come.
I'd been entrusted with a companion who was to see to it that the job gets done and I don't screw things over, some over-entitled schmuck if you ask me. His idle posture nodded me towards the stairs - it was time. As I readied to enter the box I could've sworn I felt the uncommon rush of the heart that you sometimes feel when a part of your soul becomes affected by your actions. I'd taken that feeling for granted, assuming it was the rush of the moment taking its toll. Yet, my heart spoke even louder when I pulled the trigger onto that stupid, stupid tall hat of his! Why did I find it so charming! It hit me, as it does us all when life decides to joke on your behalf, when the bullet ricocheted in its abnormal fashion. He didn't have time to turn his head, but I know, just as well as he did at that moment, what he felt. It wasn't chock or surprise, nor was it fear. I know it because I felt it too, and saw it in the corner of his eye and the lips that drew tighter. He didn't have time to turn around, though, before my sidekick shot him straight in the back of his skull. Maybe it was for the better, maybe it was not. I did not care to find out, once I ran away and exited the Ford theater. Abby, honey - I'll probably see you soon.
_____
r/PapilioCastor | 2018-04-24T03:54:16 | 2018-04-23T23:53:55 | 60 | 12 |
[WP] Necromancy is just the arcane equivalent of computer programming, and grimoires on necromancy are just like libraries of code on animating the undead. You work the equivalent of the IT Help Desk for your necromancer cult. These are your work stories. | A real call I got once:
Me: "Necro Support, how can I help you?"
Them: "I'm not able to reanimate a corpse!"
Me: "Okay what line in the spellbook did you try exactly?"
Them: "SIR, I am NOT a necromancer person so I don't know."
Me: "Do you know which spellbook you're using?"
Them: "I don't know what that is!"
Me: "Okay, when you look at the spellbook, do you see a blue N, or a multic..."
Them: "SIR, I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT I AM NOT A NECROMANCER PERSON, YOU'RE REFUSING TO HELP ME SO I'M GOING TO HANG UP" | People are idiots. Simple as that. After third time you accept the message to a screaming newbie rambling in about zombie apocalypse, when they have some simple error, it gets old fast.
But the craziest things happen with the experienced ones. The ones who think they know better. There are standard procedures introduced in all but the oldest, most eccentric, or advanced teaching manuals there are.
When some eighth-year schmuck called in the other day, I groaned. The kid had been an absolute prick since year one, calling in with idiotic advice, or stupid problems at least once every 6 months.
So this time, I just waited. And he was unusually silent this time, so I knew that it was bad.
It was not the worst, but it was pretty bad. He had made a form of growth built in to the system, where they absorb biomass and integrate it, as best they can, into their preexisting algorithms. But embedded protocols in the biomass of other necromancy corrupted the magic and created an amalgam of mixed and corrupted spells.
Formulaically speaking, this was an extremely difficult problem. You would have to detangle the individual matrix created by the absorption pattern of each subject, separate, then spend a considerable amount of time modifying and fixing the magic in the individual, while having the physical form restrained, restructured, and reset.
As a a necromancer, doing all of this magically is a problem. However, that's why they have Us. We have studied, and trained, in the programming of the arcane, despite not being able to do it ourselves. We come in, and clean up their messes. They have them enough that there is an entire guild devoted to us.
Just another day as an adventurer. | 2018-04-28T00:14:14 | 2018-04-27T21:14:51 | 237 | 34 |
[WP] Necromancy is just the arcane equivalent of computer programming, and grimoires on necromancy are just like libraries of code on animating the undead. You work the equivalent of the IT Help Desk for your necromancer cult. These are your work stories. | “Hi, uh, my girlfriend is in a coma and I really want her to die so I can reanimate her and she can go back to, uh, being my girlfriend but she is on life support so what do I do?”
“Have you tried unplugging her, waiting five minutes and plugging her in again?” | It was the night of a full moon. That when you really get the crazies. Some people can raise the dead just fine and go about their merry way. But others, well they just don’t know what the hell the are doing.
Take this one guy I had on the undead line last night. He calls me up and says his toddler has started slashing people’s Achilles tendon. It started with his brat going after the dumbfuck old man next door and just progressed until the kid became this heel cutting town menace. This fuck calls me up and says “Operator what can I do? My son, he’s just rampant with the heel cutting.”
I reply, “sir, you need to set some boundaries. The phrase ‘sometimes dead is better’ isn’t just an idiom. If your kid was always a dick or some highway adjacent simpleton than him as a reanimated corpse may be a tad more difficult than normal. “
“But” this guy exclaimed, “you don’t get it. My boy already killed my neighbor!”
“Sir,” I replied, “this is why you subscribed to DeadStar. We clean up what you can’t bring yourself to admit what happened. But please, remember to grab your misbehaving reanimated kid and reset his more murderous parameter by touching his third eye and reciting the Satanic incantations beneath his tongue.” | 2018-04-28T04:46:18 | 2018-04-28T01:09:05 | 40 | 26 |
[WP] Whenever you turn ten, you are given a voodoo doll of your soulmate. You don’t know who they are or where they are, but you have control of their voodoo doll, and vice versa. | I remember when the witch gave me my doll. I didn't like dolls, but I loved the red ringlets of mine. It reminded me of fire and magic and the tales my mother read me.
"What's the purpose?" I had asked the witch. "How can I find her?"
"That's for you two to decipher," she had answered.
I hadn't pushed it much, for an idea had burgeoned in my mind. That day, when the veil of the night had fallen, and my parents snores made the floor quiver, I snuck into their room and stole a bit of charcoal. Then, I went back to mine, grabbed my doll, and wrote a question mark on its tummy.
I waited and wondered. Will it work? Will she give me a sign too? What if she was an heretic and decides to burn me alive? What if she hadn't turned ten yet? I had shuddered at the though. An hour had gone by, and there had been no signs.
The next day, I had woken up with a smiley face made of charcoal on my chest. I can't remember how wide my grin was, but I remember the pleasant, almost warm pain of smiling for far too long. We had found the way.
Night after night, we would tell ourselves stories through our drawings, for we didn't know proper writing. We didn't need fancy words, simple drawings were more than enough: A heart, a smile, a question mark, a sword, a bad doodle of a dragon.
Through the years I had learned that she was the daughter of a blacksmith in a distant city. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and she often felt guilty. She loved hearing tales, and she had a fascination with dragons, just like me. I didn't doubt the witch's magic for a moment. I knew she was my soulmate.
Six years have gone by. I've been travelling for two months to see her. Tomorrow, if my wagon doesn't make many stops, we will finally meet.
I know I won't have trouble finding her among the crowd, for her ringlets of fire will outshine everyone who dares stand next to her.
-------------------------------------------------------
/r/therobertfall - For more stories!
| This is my first time writing a Writing Prompt, I usually don't post these stories since I'm not the greatest writer, but this one just spoke to me. I didn't put in as much effort as I usually do with stories, which I apologise for.
Constructive criticism encouraged.
...and destructive criticism is fair game.
/----------/
The candles were arranged in a small formation, signifying the first two digit positive number: Ten. Flaming, threatening to render the cake inedible with wax if ignored any further.
I looked around at the faces of my parents and younger siblings. Today was *the* day. I inhaled a large amount of air, somehow still sustaining a stupidly silly smile. Then, with a strained effort, opened the floodgates and released a torrent of warm air, blowing out the candles.
Then it came.
The man I had never met before that had barged into our house an hour ago, and did nothing but tirelessly watch as we enjoyed the prolonged birthday, dropped a box in front of me.
“Happy birthday, kid.” He sighed with exasperation. “Hope you have better luck finding 'er than I did.”
He turned away, leaving through the door with long strides, all of our gazes following him until he left our sight.
“Good riddance.” Snarled my father, happy that the uninvited guest had finally left.
“Poor guy.” My brother said, sympathising with the pitiable gentleman.
I kept watching him through the window, wondering if I was to end with the same fate. Inside these boxes were no petty gifts. They were dolls, Voodoo, to be specific. They were to help aid in finding one’s soul mate.
It was originally a gimmick, proposed by a renowned magician, rumoured to be able to control the arts, as a way to combat the declining birth rate. However, it was so effective, that the government paid the magician to create one for every person that turned ten.
I looked down at the doll again.
“I wonder when we’ll meet.”
-----time skip-----
My hands ran across the keyboard, switching cameras and scanning my eyes across them at rates that my colleagues joked was extraordinary.
This dreaded security firm I joined a month ago was proving useless so far.
It had been twenty years since that day.
That day I got my, or rather, her Voodoo doll.
My efforts to find her have proven to be fruitless so far. At first I passively looked for her, going through every prospect of my life while looking for the girl who resembled the doll...or rather the girl who the doll resembled, on the side.
I refused to settle for anyone else.
Eventually I quit my original job of software engineering and joined Alumin Security Services, applying to work the cameras. Alumin was the most highly regarded company for security, meaning they had cameras everywhere, across the continent, hell, even globally.
Finding her with these resources *should* be a cinch...except it isn’t. I had never been the most patient person, I’ll admit, but this was something I planned to make my mission. No matter how long it takes.
/----------/
I'm not sure if I should just leave it there or continue. If I do continue, should I do a sad ending or a happy one? Or a bittersweet one?
| 2018-05-05T14:40:02 | 2018-05-05T11:27:53 | 168 | 18 |
[WP] Write about a famous historical event as if it was played out as a DnD session | “I sneak up behind my target, aim my derringer at his head, and pull the trigger”
“Roll a d20 twice against your agility and once against your dexterity”
A 5
A 17
D 12
“You successfully sneak up on your target and shot him in the head. However you chose a poor spot to hide while shooting and get spotted by a nearby theater patron. Your target dies within hours while you flee the scene under pursuit. The police know your identity”
“Imma hide in this here barn” | “... Why don’t we just kill all of them?”
Everyone at the table replied with the same idea: “Are you effing insane?! We can’t just kill an entire religion because we want the city they’re in!”
“Well why not? I mean, it is our land. Jesus said so.”
“You can’t do that, even if you are the Pope!”
The DM interjected, “Roll for attack. You do have an army at your disposal.”
Before anyone could get anything in edgewise, he had already rolled a die. Everyone looked at the upturned face, “14.”
The DM flipped through a couple pages before saying, “Your attack goes very well, however, the Muslims still defend their homeland. Further crusades will be necessary to finish what you’ve started.”
After a short discussion, everyone agreed that Pope’s strategy was probably the best after all. “We’ll launch another crusade.”
A quick roll turns up... a 1.
“Well, heck. Try again?” Pope suggested. “There are always a couple bad rolls.”
Another roll turns up a 2. The DM rolls behind his sheet. “Well, uh, you don’t die?”
Before anyone can comment, Pope rolls again. 1. “Something’s gotta give!” He quickly rolls again. “Oh, a 15. That’s good!”
The DM looks down, then looks up and says, “Well, your fourth Crusade missed the Holy Land entirely. But it did get some sick loot from Constantinople.”
After ten more rolls below 3, the party gives up. | 2018-05-29T09:28:35 | 2018-05-29T09:19:29 | 39 | 13 |
[WP] Write about a famous historical event as if it was played out as a DnD session | “So you’re storming the beaches of Italy in his game. Did you bring the WW2 character sheets?”
“Uhh... shit I brought my fantasy sheet for my ranger.”
“...”
“It’s okay! We can still play. Who was important in WW2 again?”
“Winston Churchill...”
“There we go! I’ll call my character Jack Churchill, and he’s storming the beaches with a broad sword and longbow.”
“Do you really have to do that?”
“Come on man it’ll be fun”
“... fuck it, sure” | “... Why don’t we just kill all of them?”
Everyone at the table replied with the same idea: “Are you effing insane?! We can’t just kill an entire religion because we want the city they’re in!”
“Well why not? I mean, it is our land. Jesus said so.”
“You can’t do that, even if you are the Pope!”
The DM interjected, “Roll for attack. You do have an army at your disposal.”
Before anyone could get anything in edgewise, he had already rolled a die. Everyone looked at the upturned face, “14.”
The DM flipped through a couple pages before saying, “Your attack goes very well, however, the Muslims still defend their homeland. Further crusades will be necessary to finish what you’ve started.”
After a short discussion, everyone agreed that Pope’s strategy was probably the best after all. “We’ll launch another crusade.”
A quick roll turns up... a 1.
“Well, heck. Try again?” Pope suggested. “There are always a couple bad rolls.”
Another roll turns up a 2. The DM rolls behind his sheet. “Well, uh, you don’t die?”
Before anyone can comment, Pope rolls again. 1. “Something’s gotta give!” He quickly rolls again. “Oh, a 15. That’s good!”
The DM looks down, then looks up and says, “Well, your fourth Crusade missed the Holy Land entirely. But it did get some sick loot from Constantinople.”
After ten more rolls below 3, the party gives up. | 2018-05-29T09:44:43 | 2018-05-29T09:19:29 | 35 | 13 |
[WP] A man on his deathbed gathers together his children. "To my eldest, I leave all my worldly possessions. To you, my youngest, I leave all my otherworldy possessions." | A man on his deathbed gathers together his children. "To my eldest, I leave all my worldly possessions. To you, my youngest, I leave all my otherworldy possessions. And you, my middle child, I leave my greatest treasure: my Underworldly possessions." And with one final gasp, the Devil was dead. Long live the Devil. | "... And to you, my youngest, I leave all my otherworldly possessions."
. . .
The room is silent again, but less somber now and more somnambulant, because, I mean, what the fuck?
He gets the company, the subsidiaries, the stock, the townhouse, the lake house, the beach house, the cottage, the second cottage, the suits, the God damn son of a bitch platinum rocketship cufflinks that were a gift from Bezos. Bezos links, man.
. . .
"Yeah, but wait --"
"To you, my second son, I leave my struggle, perseverance, wisdom, strength, and the peace of mind I have sown each year for this moment of cultivation."
"So, like, that bottle of Macallan 62?"
"No."
"The Jet... Skis?"
The old man *expires*. Death rattle and all.
I look at my brother, who's wiping the little tear he can't hold back. He takes a theatrical deep breath, gathering himself before clasping his hands in front of his Gucci belt.
Something about "a life well lived" he says. Everyone shuffling around and talking about "arrangements."
They've already forgotten me, but what else is new? They're on to the next bit of industry: the old man's funeral and subsequent proliferation of newly acquired assets.
. . .
What do I do now?
| 2018-07-06T15:24:48 | 2018-07-06T14:25:44 | 57 | 13 |
[WP] "Best me in a contest, or I'll take your souls!" the Prince of Darkness roared. The Fighter's sword was broken, the Wizard's spells useless; even the Cleric's prayers went unanswered. The Bard alone stepped forward, and grinned. "Don't worry guys," they said. "I'm from Georgia." | P O D rose from Hell, he was looking for some souls to steal
He bested some adventurers, and was willing to make a deal
When the bard of the bunch offered him to fight him with the lute
And the Prince pulled a mighty instrument out his boot
"I bet you didn't know it, but I'm a lute player, too
And if you're feeling like dealing I'll make a bet with you
Now you got a pretty good lute, bard, but give the Prince his due
I'll bet a lute of gold against your souls cause I'm way better than you."
The bard said, "My name's Sven, and you're King of Sin,
It don't matter if you cheat cause I'm the one who's gonna win."
Sven, ready your fingers and play your lute hard
Cause the Prince of Darkness is up against a bard
And if you win you get this shiny lute made of gold
But if you lose the Prince of Darkness gets your souls
The Prince readied his lute and he said, "I'll start this show."
And darkness came from light as he started out plucking low,
And he pulled the strings and made loud tings as he started to hiss
So a band of shadows joined in and it sounded something like this:
[Demonic lute piece]
When the Darkness finished, Sven said, "Well, that was poop ol' son,
I'll put you in your place and add a frown to your face, now let me show you how its done."
"Fire in the Cave." Run, darkness, run!
The Prince's in the palace of the rising sun;
Chicken's in the bread pan picking out dough
Prince, do you bite? Not anymore, no
[Non-demonic lute piece]
The Prince fell to his knees and his face turned red as a beet
And he laid that golden lute on the ground at Sven's feet
Sven said, "Prince, just come on back if you ever wanna try again
Cause I'll tell you once -- Lord of Hell -- I'm the best there's ever been."
And he played:
"Fire in the Cave." Run, darkness, run!
The Prince's in the palace of the rising sun;
Chicken's in the bread pan picking out dough
Prince, do you bite? Not anymore, no.
-----------------------------------
**Thanks for reading, feedback and criticism is very appreciated.**
r/WrittenText | "From Georgia you say?" The beastly behemoth huffed and puffed and it took the group a moment to realize the monstrosity was, in fact, laughing.
"I suppose you're out for and old style fiddle off, ain't ya boy?" The beast's scruffy beard crackled with heat as it drew the tips of its clawed fingers through it.
"Oh, not at all. There's just this really good merchant there, sells some special guitars y'know?"
The beast tilted its head, seemingly in confusion, as it stared down at the bard it towered over. The bard, only a spec before the monstrous hooves of his opponent, began unstrapping the bulky backpack he had brought on every journey since, just for this very opportunity. From the square leather bag, he produced a black box, bearing holes in one side. Eagerly the bard fiddled with things that looked to the group like thin black ropes, jamming their metallic ends into the holes on the side of the box.
"And just wait 'till you see this, man!" The bard said, as he proudly unzipped the longish black bag he had brought along their quest, together with the black box. They belonged together, after all. Plugging the other metallic ends of the thin black robes into the strangely shaped guitar he had produced, the bard set one foot onto the black box, dramatically cracking his neck before exclaiming:
"I, Jakob Blackus the third, challenge you to a rock off!"
Needless to say, the beast was stunned. And its utter confusion only grew as the bard followed up:
"And since it was technichally you who challenged me, it is only in the sense of good sport that I go first!"
And before even waiting for his opponent's response, the bard began strumming his strange, otherwordly guitar, producing the most outrageous of sounds to have ever come from an instrument! The charred black stone walls of the beast's layer seemed to be shaking with the pure power of the bard's music. And what a music it was! It was as though it was a song, that only possibly could be played once every hundred thousand years, a song that made the moon shine, the grass grow, and make every being present understand that one and one make two, and two and one make three. And as the bard played on, not only his group, but the beast alike knew, this had to be the single best song in the world.
And as the bard had played his last note, and the air still felt vibrant with this unforgetable melody only the gods themselves could have brought down on this earth, the prince of darkness stood in stupor, staring down at the bard. After a while, in which nobody had dared to break the silence of this perfect, breathless aftershock, the beast finally opened his mouth, it's voice trembling with a blend of fear and admiration as he spoke:
"I submit. This has to be the single greatest piece of music ever performed."
The bard shook his head, as he began packing up his strange contraption of an instrument.
"Naah man, you really think? I swear I had something totally different in mind, but I kinda blanked and realized I didn't have down the chords for the middle part, so I just kinda improvised. But I guess that's more, like, a matter of opinion. This was really more of a tribute." | 2018-07-30T10:10:06 | 2018-07-30T09:25:30 | 337 | 93 |
[WP] Jokingly, you bought a staff online. To show it off, you brought it with you downtown. Until a stranger approaches you in armor saying “Ah a mage. You’ll be useful in our quest. Follow me” | "C'Mon, Sam. Do you really have to take that thing? I don't want us to get in trouble because someone thinks that you're carrying around a weapon." My brother paid my worries no mind, instead swinging the staff around poorly, and yet with vigor, as though he were a young man training in a keep at some castle for the first time. It was a knurled wooden stick, about four feet long, with a twisted cage of cobalt-colored wood at the top.
"It'll be fine, bro, don't worry! I'll protect us from anything." The more I watched him move, the surer I was that he was making the staff dance up and not inspired by something real.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing. "Look, Sam, I know that you're just trying to have some fun, but other people might not see it that way. I just don't want us to run into trouble or have someone get worried and called the police."
"Please, Mark? Please? *Please*? Come on, don't be like that!" The last of his words melted into a screech that stung my ears.
"Okay! Alright, damn, fine." I waved a hand at him, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment before turning to the door. " let's just get going before it gets too late. I don't want us to be out too much past dark. You've got school tomorrow."
He grinned a set of crooked teeth at me, then followed to the car.
--------
It's not easy to carry a staff around a crowded town center at six in the evening. Thousand of people bustled and swirled in the square, walking dogs, eating ice cream. Half of the crowd was hungry, the other half stuffed. And, of course, the comic book store was right in the center of it.
We pushed through a sea of humans and odd looks, through the membrane and into a much more comfortable room filled with people who think Pokémon is a way of life. *His* kind of people.
"Whoa, there, Sam! Whatcha got there buddy? Is that a staff?" John, one of the owners, glanced to his co-manager and I couldn't tell if it was worry or amusement he was expressing.
"Yeah! It's a wizard staff, the kind you beat up bad guys with."
John looked at me with a half-cocked grin and I shrugged. Before we could go in further and settle, however, a young man approached us. He was wearing a silver hoodie, embossed to look like a knight's armor, and his gaze focused on Sam as if I weren't there.
"Ah, a mage. We could use your help on our quest, friend. Follow me." Sam didn't even turn for permission, skipping over to their table full of people dressed in odd, cheap costumes and graphic tees. Some kind of game was set up, with dice and handbooks littering the table.
The young man who'd whisked Sam away introduced him to the group, then ran back over to me. "Hey, sorry about that. Didn't mean to seem rude, but... I thought he'd really like to join the group."
I watched Sam laughing with a group of young men who shared his enthusiasm for magical things and smiled wide so my lips would tremble. "No, it's... A lot of people don't treat my brother very well. People make fun of the kids who have it rough, you know. It... It means a lot to me that you're all treating him like a normal person. Like he belongs. I'll sit over here and hang out, take your time."
The boy grinned, and returned to his adventure.
*/r/resonatingfury* | Torin posed outside the coffee shop, waiting for his friend to take the picture.
“Just hit the button, Lucas,” he said and tapped the sidewalk with the end of his new staff.
“Of course, your majesty,” Lucas bowed and laughed before getting a snapshot and moving back across the sidewalk. “I still don’t know why you bought that thing.”
Torin shrugged. “It looked cool. Are we ready for some coffee yet? Sitting sounds like a good idea for a while.”
Before a response left his friends mouth, Torin was tapped on the shoulder from behind.
“A mage!” a man bellowed as he turned around, “You’ll be useful in our quest. Follow me!”
“Excuse me?” Torin raised an eyebrow and took a step backward, managing to narrowly miss hitting his friend.
“Your staff gave you away,” the man smiled and pointed to Torin's hand. “We are in need of a mage. You don’t seem to be in a party, let's go.”
As Torin opened his mouth to speak again, the man reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. Before he could make a sound, or even blink, the world around them swirled. Torin felt it in the back of his head as well as in his gut, and he shut his eyes to try and prevent losing his breakfast.
“Come!” The voice sounded like the man, but it no longer sounded like it was next to him. Confused, Torin opened his eyes once more, finding that the busy street of downtown was gone. It had been replaced with a pale dirt path with rolling green hills on either side.
“What the hell?”
“I hope you don’t mind that I fast traveled us. I’m in a bit of a rush and we have the rest of the group waiting for us. It’s not far from here,” the man called out without stopping. He was walking ahead and had already gotten some distance ahead.
Torin looked around. Grass, dirt, and a single lamppost. There was nothing he recognized, he had no idea where he was at and no idea what was happening. As his heart began to race he opted to not stay put. Alone, lost, and confused sounded like a horrible combination.
“What the hell!” he muttered as he willed his feet to move.
He rushed forward to catch up, which wasn’t easy with the bulky staff that he wasn’t used to carrying.
“I don’t know what is happening here, but I am not who you think I am,” he said as he gasped for breaths when he was walking next to the man again.
“I am Khorne. I was sent in search for you.” The man looked over at Torin and smiled.
The man walked so fast for his bulky looking armor, the whole image was strange. Torin was glad that at least the face plate was up on his helmet so he could see who was talking.
They came upon a split in the path creating a T shaped intersection. Without even looking in the other direction, the man hung a left and continued on the path.
“Where are we going? Who sent you?” Torin asked, trying to keep his growing panic out of his voice.
“Them!” Khorne pointed up ahead. In between two large, grass-covered hills stood a group of four people. All were dressed in costumes and holding various weapons or tools. One had a large backpack that rattled as he turned around to face the incoming pair.
“Finally. We’ve been ready for ages. Let's go,” the tall man with the backpack said as Torin and Khorne approached the group.
“I’m sorry, I think you guys have made a mistake here,” Torin said. His eyes darted between the 5 people in front of him, not sure what to do or how to get himself out of this bad dream.
“It’s fine,” Khorne said, patting his shoulder. “This is just the first fight.”
Torin's eyes grew wide as a short and very pale woman at the back of the group muttered some words, causing a wooden door to appear in the surface of the hill next to them.
“Let's go!” Khorne cried as he opened the door and disappeared into the darkness.
One by one the other 4 people filed into the door that shouldn’t be there, disappearing along with the armored man.
Torin stared, not sure what was worse. He could stay put and be lost in some weird place that could be anywhere, or he could blindly walk through the door with the others.
“Wait…fight?” Torin yelled out and hustled to catch up to the others.
/r/beezus_writes | 2019-02-28T06:27:31 | 2019-02-28T05:51:15 | 338 | 18 |
[WP] Instead of requiring sleep everyone has two distinct souls that share the one body; switching places when one gets tired and needs rest. Neither has access to the memories of the other and life for most is about learning to co-exist with another person they will never get to meet. | That son of a bitch, he never cleans up after himself. The apartment is always a mess when I wake up. Since we were kids. He makes the mess, I clean up the mess. I don't think the man has ever done a dish in his life. And don't get me started on the STDs.
Have you tried expressing your frustration at him through a note, or maybe a recording to leave for him?
Yeah, I even hired a guy to wait outside my apt for him and beat his ass. Ended up in the hospital with a broken arm. I just can't take it anymore. I hate him so much. I don't want to die. But the thought of killing him takes hold of me sometimes.
You would kill yourself, just to spite him?
No... I will go to bed one night and never wake up, he will do the dying part.
I'm going to prescribe an anti-depressant. | "Your other dude is serious, man." My friend Poop said sullenly. We both stared down at the gun in my hands, still warm and empty. An extended magazine protruded obnoxiously far out from the bottom, but there were no bullets left. Thing could have held like 60 big bullets.
"I know we don't all like to deal with that other half, but you.... you might HAVE to. Like this is crazy!"
I wake up in a cave. Only it's fitted with modern furniture, an enormous bed (occasionally occupied by a woman, I've never spoken to any) and weapons. A ridiculous collection of weapons. Guns. Swords. Spears. I've found a rocket launcher. Slingshot. Chainsaw. Boomerang. A belt. Nunchucks.
Things I fantasize about, but never dealt with. Never had time for, pursuing my engineering degree. But I wake up with injuries sometimes. Armed with a weapon sometimes. Covered in blood sometimes.
I usually wake up near the built in shower, if I hadn't showered off before the switch, with a change of clothes (usually the ones I wore before I gave myself up, but I've lost clothes to myself and got a suit in return as well)
The exit is obvious, all the other lights are off. I walk down a paved concrete hallway under glaring fluorescents to an elevator, press the one red button in the all black glossy interior, and ride it down to an almost empty car garage. One taxi is always waiting, with a driver who takes me home or anywhere I ask really for free. He says I already paid. Won't answer any other questions about me. Usually the same driver, occasionally different because everybody needs a day off. Rear windows tinted on the inside so I can't find my way back.
This time I woke up under a bridge. With a gun and a locked briefcase. And here I am. I called out of work, called my friend Poop over, and laid it all out.
"You might be right man." | 2019-05-29T05:42:35 | 2019-05-29T05:26:22 | 40 | 27 |
[WP] Whenever you saw a dead animal in the road, you'd say a little prayer and send them to Heaven. Upon your death, you arrive in Heaven and are immediately swarmed with 1000's of various critters delighted to see you. You hear a booming voice cry out with irritation, "This is YOUR fault." | God was pissed. There wasn’t any other way to put it. Apparently, they had only accounted for so many animal souls before I got to Earth, and I had gone and fucked that number up pretty royally.
“All your fault,” they repeated.
I shrugged. “Look, YOU crowded up my world with a bunch of people. Cruel, selfish humans who litter and drive 40 mph in the carpool lane. People who order ridiculously pretentious coffee drinks and people who would rather see profit than progress. At least I sent you cute animals!”
“Cute!? Do you see that thing over there?” He pointed over to a grey, shelled creature. I quickly identified it as an armadillo, and I scooped it up to give it a snuggle. “He’s adorable,” I say. “You should see what you gave me to work with. Wait, you did see. You’re God. How the fuck are we even going to compare what I sent you vs what you sent me? It’s an easy win for me!” The armadillo uncurled at that precise moment, and returned the snuggle. “See?” I said. “Fucking adorable.”
God looked at me, frowned, and said, “You always did swear too much, you know.” I shrugged again. “Yea, I know, but I’m fucking adorable, too. Now, where’s my room?” | When Sarah was alive, she had a ritual she performed for all the dead animals she passed. It just seemed right to her, that those who are easily forgotten get a few words and a half-descent send-off before they return to the earth. They might be strangers to her, and she might have scarce little to say besides, "I'll see you in the afterlife, if there is one." But she always at least said that.
Sarah had slept outside in the wilderness before, but never on stone. The cold, rough stone pressed painfully into the back of her head, but she was too groggy to wake up. She tried to roll onto her side, use her arm as a pillow, but now the stone dug into her hip. She tried to wriggle into a comfortable position, then gave up, and forced herself upright.
Nearby, she noticed, a campfire crackled and burned, the only source of heat and light in this desolate place. It was barely enough to light the dark stone within ten paces. Shadows appeared to shift in the darkness beyond.
"Where am I?" Sarah shouted. Her voice sounded so weak in this place, like it swallowed all sound as well as the light.
"After life," a voice boomed. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. "After all life. Only the ones you saved remain."
Sarah was blinded momentarily by a sudden flash. The fire intensified, and she felt the heat flare for a moment before receding. The increased light revealed the shifting shapes in the darkness were in fact live animals. Hundreds, possibly thousands, surrounded Sarah on all sides, wounded in all manner of ways. A deer with a twisted hind leg; the front half of a snake; a racoon, midsection flattened; an owl missing half its face, maggots wriggling in exposed flesh. Horror crept over her.
"They did not pass on like the others," the voice said. "This is your fault."
"Why?" she asked, almost a whisper.
"I am the Earth," the voice said. "You wished for life. But only I can give them peace."
She saw a calf among the animals, and the calf looked back. Was there recognition in its eyes? Parts of its skin started to flake away as ash, followed by the exposed flesh underneath. The same was happening to the others. The fire dimmed and dimmed, and was then extinguished as if by an invisible hand, and Sarah, who remained whole, was alone in the darkness. | 2019-09-02T23:11:39 | 2019-09-02T23:03:15 | 330 | 25 |
[WP] Whenever you saw a dead animal in the road, you'd say a little prayer and send them to Heaven. Upon your death, you arrive in Heaven and are immediately swarmed with 1000's of various critters delighted to see you. You hear a booming voice cry out with irritation, "This is YOUR fault." | “This is Your fault” you hear in a booming voice. “Each creature is supposed to be kept separate with each of them having to have their own separate heaven. Now I have to separate them one by one, despite the fact that they made friends with one another while waiting for you. They were all one big family waiting for you. Specifically you because they were all waiting to thank you. How am I supposed to tell them no? And now that you’re here, how am i supposed to separate them from you? Gah! Oh me! What do I do now? Tell me?! You had to be the most empathetic human! You just had to send them all. You know what?! Fine! You wanted to feel sorry for them then you take care of em! I’ll give you your own heaven and you do whatever you want in there! I don’t have the patience to deal with any of this anymore. I have better things to do.” All of a sudden you find yourself in a new area that’s blank with a translucent screen in front of you. The words “click here for customization tutorial” are written on it. “Well, I’ve always wanted to take care of animals. Time to begin” you thought to yourself as you clicked the screen with your finger.
My very first prompt. Please tell me what you think. Also this was done on mobile so no fancy text tricks. | When Sarah was alive, she had a ritual she performed for all the dead animals she passed. It just seemed right to her, that those who are easily forgotten get a few words and a half-descent send-off before they return to the earth. They might be strangers to her, and she might have scarce little to say besides, "I'll see you in the afterlife, if there is one." But she always at least said that.
Sarah had slept outside in the wilderness before, but never on stone. The cold, rough stone pressed painfully into the back of her head, but she was too groggy to wake up. She tried to roll onto her side, use her arm as a pillow, but now the stone dug into her hip. She tried to wriggle into a comfortable position, then gave up, and forced herself upright.
Nearby, she noticed, a campfire crackled and burned, the only source of heat and light in this desolate place. It was barely enough to light the dark stone within ten paces. Shadows appeared to shift in the darkness beyond.
"Where am I?" Sarah shouted. Her voice sounded so weak in this place, like it swallowed all sound as well as the light.
"After life," a voice boomed. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. "After all life. Only the ones you saved remain."
Sarah was blinded momentarily by a sudden flash. The fire intensified, and she felt the heat flare for a moment before receding. The increased light revealed the shifting shapes in the darkness were in fact live animals. Hundreds, possibly thousands, surrounded Sarah on all sides, wounded in all manner of ways. A deer with a twisted hind leg; the front half of a snake; a racoon, midsection flattened; an owl missing half its face, maggots wriggling in exposed flesh. Horror crept over her.
"They did not pass on like the others," the voice said. "This is your fault."
"Why?" she asked, almost a whisper.
"I am the Earth," the voice said. "You wished for life. But only I can give them peace."
She saw a calf among the animals, and the calf looked back. Was there recognition in its eyes? Parts of its skin started to flake away as ash, followed by the exposed flesh underneath. The same was happening to the others. The fire dimmed and dimmed, and was then extinguished as if by an invisible hand, and Sarah, who remained whole, was alone in the darkness. | 2019-09-03T00:14:19 | 2019-09-02T23:03:15 | 37 | 25 |
[WP] Time slows down every time you are in danger. The more serious the danger is, the more time you have to save yourself. During one terrible car accident, you had almost a minute to react. And now, time has almost completely stopped for a whole month, and you don’t know why. | The first time I was born was December 13, 1994, in Flynn Palmer Regional Hospital, room 203. The second time I was born was 15 years later. I was watching out the window, absentmindedly observing the cars as they passed us and fell back behind us again. Goosebumps ran up my arms from the cold, the vent had shut off. I looked at it quizzically, and switched the buttons in an attempt to restore the heat. When I gave up and returned my focus to the window, all the cars on the road had stopped. We had stopped. My parents were silent. Just ahead of us, the headlights of a semi truck beamed though the windshield. We had been seconds away from being crushed, but now everything but the snow falling was completely still. I opened my door slowly and stepped out into the cold. In an instant, the truck slammed into the car. The sound was so deafening that my scream was lost to it. I lost my father and my mother and only in that same instant did I become myself.
Each time danger draws near to me, time freezes and the air becomes a bitter cold. I am unable to take any course of action that will protect anyone but myself, and I sometimes wonder if I stayed as still as everyone else if time itself would grow impatient and allow me to be hurt.
Two days ago, as I was sitting on a park bench, the familiar cold came to me. Not in a breeze but in a sudden chill, the presences of the all the souls in the world, suddenly frozen. Before looking up I paused a moment, the chill always reminds me of my parents. I rose and turned slowly to examine my surroundings. Several others were frozen in the park, mid-laughter or conversation. Down the road, a man sat frozen in the seat of a semi truck, his eyes locked on me. I would recognize him anywhere, the man that killed my parents. The chill suddenly became so cold that I could no longer stand it. Eight times since that day, I have seen this man and each time, the chill comes. The chill terrifies me and protects me at once, it divides me from all the rest of humanity and yet, it ensures that I continue to be a part of it. I walk home. The world does not resume. I reach for the shades to allow light into the house. He is there, in the window. Time does not resume. | People call it a miracle. You hear about crashes every week on that highway, but nobody ever survives. I was running late to work, so I brought my coffee with me on the ride there. I went to take a sip when time slowed down.
Not even a second had gone by before someone laid down the horn. I was startled, and shook a little. My coffee started to spill. About five inches from my lap, time almost entirely stopped. I twisted out of the way and avoided it.
I thought that was it, but time didn’t resume as normal. In fact, it got even slower. That’s when I looked up and saw a Jeep barreling towards me. I threw myself out of the car and hit the ground just as they collided.
My little Nash-Rambler didn’t stand a chance against this Grand Cherokee. Time went back to normal. My car was totaled. Luckily, nobody died. I had some pretty bad scrapes and cuts, while the man driving the Jeep had a dislocated shoulder and a few broken bones.
A few weeks later, my girlfriend took me to the Ford dealership a few miles away, and a little while later, we were sitting in the drive of my truck. All was well, or so we thought. I began to feel a weird sensation throughout my entire body. Then, time slowed down again. Almost entirely stopped. I grabbed my girlfriend’s hand and pulled her out of the car.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving our lives.”
We ran into the house, but time still wouldn’t continue on as normal. I tried to keep us safe, but no matter what I did, I could still clearly notice the flap of a mockingbird’s wing. The rotation of a car’s tires. The lyrics to an Eminem song. The blink of an eye.
I lived like this for almost a month, though it felt much longer. Every second felt like a minute. Then, I realized why this was happening. I looked out the window and the sun seemed to be a bit closer. I felt a sickening feeling in my stomach.
“Honey, come here!”
“What’s up?”
“Does the sun seem closer than usual to you?”
I didn’t give her time to reply. I told her to get in the car. Luckily, we didn’t live too far from a NASA building. As we got closer, time seemed to speed up. By the time we walked up to a worker, it was normal.
“We need to get off this planet.”
“What?”
“Something bad is happening.”
“Sorry, but we can’t just let anyone into a spacecraft.”
“Well, we won’t tell your boss.”
I flashed my gun and grabbed my girlfriend’s hand and we ran past her. Luckily, I had decades of experience with karate and was a sixth degree black belt. I easily fought off the staff, my girlfriend in tow.
“There it is!”
We ran to the spacecraft and locked ourselves inside. As I looked at all the controls, time began slowing down again. After about ten minutes, I ran outside and got someone to help us.
“Turn this thing on!”
“Okay, okay! Please don’t kill me!”
He got it on and we took off. Luckily, we made it off the planet just before the sun crashed into it. We all lived happily ever after, right? Well, we would have, but we had no place to stay. We died after 14 days of floating aimlessly.
__________________________________________
Don’t question the first person POV from someone who’s dead, please. Hope you enjoyed! | 2019-09-27T18:18:51 | 2019-09-27T16:29:13 | 44 | 22 |
[WP] The year is 2180. Humans have began to enhance themselves more and more with cybernetics. As a vampire living in this period, you are finding it harder and harder to find a good meal, and must adapt to more creative ways to find your prey. | Sacha threw down his meal in disgust. Then he kicked the lifeless husk for good measure. He ran a hand through his dark hair and growled. His temper had been getting the better of him in the last few decades, now that it was impossible to find a satiating meal.
The man crumpled at Sacha's feet was the most unenhanced human he'd found in a few years. One cybernetic leg, but the other three limbs were organic. That meant there would be more blood. The majority of people only had an organic trunk and head, leaving little more than a few sips of tangy blood that gave him a massive headache and never really satisfied the hunger. Not like the old days.
But there was something wrong with this man, something worse than the simple external cybernetic parts added by others. His very blood was tainted with it. Sacha couldn't quite place what was wrong, but it felt wrong from when the first drop touched his lips. But his hunger was so ravenous, he pushed past the revulsion and still drank. Not all of the man, but obviously enough to kill him.
The blood burned in his throat and stomach. Worse than centuries distant memories of alcohol or even poison. Sacha put his hands on his knees and tried to take a few deep breaths. He didn't physically need the air but hoped it would soothe the roiling in his gut.
But it was no use. After only a few moments he was gagging and wretching the blood back on top of the dead man he'd taken it from. He held the back of his hand up to his mouth and grumbled a curse. He kicked the man one more time with less vigor, but it was enough to raise the cuff of a sleeve, revealing a medical alert bracelet.
Sacha momentarily forgot the retching and pain and knelt down to examine the bracelet. It was so out of place in a world where so many ailments and diseases were fixed with a quick surgery and cybernetic implant.
The front of the bracelet was just a barcode. Sacha flipped the bracelet over, where a few simple lines were inscribed.
*The owner has nanite cybernetic implants. Use only medical procedures in compliance with blood-based electronics. Contact Hanover Medical and Cybernetics at 555-867-5309 for further guidance.*
Sacha pulled the bracelet from the man's wrist and a long piece of flesh scraped off along with the band. He flicked it off onto the pavement and wiped it clean on the man's shirt before rising. *Hanover Medical and Cybernetics*. The name flashed a glimpse of recognition in the back of Sacha's mind. He pulled through memories to try and place where he'd heard of the company.
It came to him in a flash. *The cure*. They had been the company to first offer a cure for vampirism a few decades back. Of course, it had been a scandal when it turned out it also robbed vampires of their immortality in a rather quick and gruesome manner. They created vampires to test their serum, so they had only been weeks or months old. When their true age caught up to them, it wasn't noticeable. But when older vampires, some centuries old, came for the cure... Sacha was still haunted by the aftermath and the mess that was left in the wake.
But now it seemed they'd invented cybernetics small enough and intelligent enough to insert independently into the blood stream. Not a replacement of any organic part, but an addition.
*And if they can create implants to live within human blood, they can create implants that extracted it and filtered themselves out.* Sacha would have to convince the company that the goal was a worthwhile pursuit. And he had no doubt this convincing would be more than eloquent words.
Sacha ran through a list in his mind, deciding which brothers could help him descend on this company for such a worthy cause. It would be difficult, since their "cure" was as good as a weapon against their kind. But in war, there was also some risk.
r/StaceyOutThere | "It's just so hard to find a good meal these days," Victor lamented. "Remember the good old days? When peasants were plentiful and we could basically just walk around biting anybody? I'll drink to that," he added, lifting his empty goblet.
His wife, the legendary Vidalia, rolled her eyes. She knew what came next, having suffered his near insufferable sufferings for far too long.
"BUT I CAN'T," Victor yelled and the goblet slammed into the side table. "Because I have no blood to drink," he explained lamely.
"Yes, dear," Vidalia answered patiently. "We've spoken about your dietary needs at length."
"They have gluten-free. They have vegan. They even have meat-only stores nowadays, with those damn meat salads topped with grease. Who would want pepperoni, ham, salmon and ground beef all mixed together?" He humphed unhappily and leaned back in the recliner.
Vidalia was short on sympathy for her husband. She had adapted, as vampires needed to. The good old days were long gone. Purebred humans were few and far between - and ostracized, at that - relegated to low-income areas and the fringes of society. Cybernetics were so good now, the temptations just couldn't be resisted. Everybody was improving themselves, the term having lost any connection to being a hard-worker or somebody with impressive introspective skills. Enough money and you could improve however much you wanted. And better humans seemed to mean less blood to drink and less flesh to bite into.
The first time Victor had bit into a prosthetic, finely detailed with fake veins and all, he had nearly chipped a tooth. He had received a nasty shock and a stunning punch from his victim's cybernetic limb that slammed with inhuman force into his head.
Even targeting the cybernetic humans seemed to work for other vampires. It just required more skill; more precision to bite into the right areas. Victor lacked the skill or the patience to do so.
"There are solutions, Vic," she said finally, making sure to not seem too exasperated.
"Vid, I've tried. They're disgusting. And so damn fast, I don't know how you even manage."
She blinked robotically. "Other solutions, Victor. There are still humans."
"Ugh, Vid, you know I don't want to move." He always said his limbs hurt after so many centuries. Her's didn't. Not anymore. Plus, he argued, they had worked hard to be here, in the beautiful suburbs just a short drive west of the city center.
They used to walk there, back when it was far less modern and far less populated, picking out a target and stalking them all the way home. Now the stalker detection systems caused alarms to blare even if they were just playing at stalking prey. Just when she walked with Victor though. That was no fun and no feast.
"I didn't even mean that. Try Craigslist. Post that you're lonely and looking for some human company."
"That's pathetic, Vid. I'm a vampire, not a damn virgin."
"Go to a reunion or something. You know the pure humans are always at libraries and stuff. They can't access the books internally."
"I *hate* libraries," Victor protested. "They creep me out, so many stories about our people dying."
She rolled her eyes again and offered one last option. "Then come with me," she suggested.
Victor sighed reluctantly. "Not again, Vid."
Vidalia traveled enough on business to have seen other neighborhoods. Now and then, she would bring her husband back a vial of human blood. Not fresh, but from pure origins at the very least. "There are areas where nobody can afford the improvements," she insisted. "Just come with me. One time. I promise it'll be worth your while."
Victor shook his head defiantly. "No way. You know how I get in airplanes. All claustrophobic. I'm an old-fashioned fellow, I can't be flying around."
"Then we'll drive," she argued.
"No can do, Vid. I get carsick. Horse or I'm a no-go."
Vidalia rolled her eyes. "Fine, suit yourself. I'm going to bed," she said as she rose to her feet and finished the last of her blood-red wine. She was fine drinking that, having feasted not that long ago on her last trip. Vampires had to adapt. That's how she lived that long. And if her husband wasn't willing to adapt with her, he could suit himself. She would drink her fill, and then his.
She sat in bed for a moment, contemplating her husband's stubbornness. Then she shrugged and stretched her arms, the cables and electronics carefully disguised as veins. Humans adapted, too. They got faster and more cautious. Stronger. Smarter. That was why she made sure to keep adapting with them.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated! | 2019-11-04T08:08:38 | 2019-11-04T07:53:57 | 1,001 | 188 |
[WP] “So you’ve come hero.” The most powerful dark lord in history says as he faces you across the hall. But before you take another step, he motions to the cutest little girl you’ve ever seen with tears in her eyes. “But first, please explain to my granddaughter why Grandpa needs to die.” | “But first, please explain to my granddaughter why Grandpa needs to die.”
"When you tore through my village almost twenty years ago someone asked you the same thing," I replied.
I moved in closer to him, gently cupping his throat with my left hand. I looked at his supposed granddaughter.
"Do you know what he said?"
The girl shook her head as tears ran endlessly down her cheeks.
"That the question didn't even warrant a response," I whispered to her, as I crushed the old man's throat.
I looked at her straight in the eyes, as the old man crumpled to the ground. For a few moments, all that we could hear was his gurgling. I'll give her this. If this sack of shit is worth avenging, she can engrave the image of my face deep on her heart. And when she comes she can try to earn the right to end my life.
This charade bought me my time. The gurgling stopped. Even if a guard I didn't get rid of was guided to this room by an act of god, he was far too gone. And even if the guard had made it on time, the apothecary of this castle is dead. They won't be able to brew an antidote for the poison in the claws of my gauntlet.
Saying nothing more, I left the room.
After all, the question didn't event warrant a response. | "So here you are. Would you like to explain, or should I?"
I look at Amy, crying, and put my hand under my chin, and raise it up. And then in the same way as I showed her, she does the same.
"I'm sorry, honey," I say to her. "You deserve better."
“Enough!" The Dark One screams, silencing her and knocking her over with a wave of his hand. "I think you should explain to her why her dear old grandpa has to die."
I look at her, my beautiful twenty-five-year-old granddaughter, and I see the same scared little girl...
\-
*"I'm scared, grandpa," she says into my shoulder. We're about fifty yards from the dugout, so I don't think anyone can hear us.
“It's just softball," I say to her. "Softball is one of the only things that's fun that I can still do anymore."
“But what if I miss every time? All the other girls will laugh at me."*
*"They might laugh at you. But so what? At some point in life, people are going to laugh at you, honey."*
*"Easy for you to say," she says, pulling back. Looking into her spiteful ten-year-old eyes, I realize there's so much she doesn't know about me. "You're a superhero."*
*"But there was a time when I wasn't one," I say. "The only reason I got these powers is because I showed I was ready to be brave even without them."*
*I put my hand under her chin. "You know what I used to do, sweetie? Every time I was scared, and believe me, there were some scary villains, I would put my hand under my chin."*
*"And then what?" she asks.*
*I push her chin up, just a little bit, so she is looking up, above me, at the skies. “It doesn't mean that much, but it means you're ready. That you can handle whatever comes, right? That no matter what happens, you'll be okay. Does that make sense?"*
*"Ok," she says. "When are you going to tell me about all the villains you fought?"*
*"One day," I say. "In fact, if you go back out and finish the game, I'll tell you one after. What do you say?"*
*But she's already running back on the field.*
\-
(continued below) | 2019-12-11T21:35:26 | 2019-12-11T17:53:44 | 251 | 78 |
[WP] You are the Chosen One, destined to defeat the ancient demon goddess that would destroy the world; the ancient demon goddess is your doting mother, who loves you unconditionally. | Treothilax always was the rebellious sort.
In his personal opinion, it was past time for demonkind to enter the modern era. Eternal torment was terribly outdated, and 98% of the time didn't lead to rehabilitation. Don't even get him started on the CO2 released by all that fire and brimstone.
It was no surprise, then, that when Queen Yarastruthis declared the beginning of the apocalypse, 'Theo' was none too happy about it.
Demon invasions of the mortal plane were all well and good--he supported free immigration after all, but did they really have to start a race war? Having skimmed *several* youtube videos on the human military, Theo wasn't even certain the demons would *win.*
So, of course, he took it upon himself to prevent the Queen's foolhardy decision the only way he knew how: peaceful protest.
The first difficulty Treothilax came across was a dearth of paper, pens, and wooden posts with which to make a sign. He eventually had to make do with using his great talons to carve the message into a slab of stone. It was a travesty for his nails, but he was determined to make his voice heard.
The next step was to post up in front of the Palace of the Damned, blocking visitors, chanting mantras in defense of peace, and just generally making a fuss until they invited him in to negotiate. This too, went somewhat awry.
Indeed, the moment he arrived at the Bridge of the Eternal Wail, the Palace gates swung right open. A bit perturbed he didn't get to make use of his sign or witty slogans, he nonetheless entered.
The place was busy. Imps, succubi, pit fiends, and all manner of lesser demons scurried about, delivering weapons, messages, weapons, meat, and weapons. Theo stepped around the busybodies as he progressed, eyes focused on the obsidian doors ahead. The cries of the damned themselves echoed through the hall, only falling silent when he reached his goal and stepped into the throne room.
The Demon Queen sat upon her throne, fangs tearing into the slab of meat she held in her hand. Her three eyes blinked at Theo's arrival, and she set her meal down to greet the young protester.
"Treothilax! I'm so pleased to see you. Have you come to aid in our ignoble conquest?"
"Hello, mother." Theo bristled. "I'm afraid not. According to Walzer's theory on just and unjust wars, demonic conquest of the mortal plane for reasons other than defense of an ally are decidedly *un*just."
She groaned, throwing her head back. "You know, Treothilax, you are my son, and I shall forever love you, but ever since you went to art school, you've picked up all sorts of ideas about 'compassion,' and 'ethics,' and 'communism.' I've about had enough. You are a *demon* and you will act demonic!"
"Fine!" He growled back, "just follow your base instincts into needless war! Don't come running to me when you run out of humans to punish because *they're all dead!*"
With that, he turned and stormed out of the throne room. He always did enjoy a good storming off. Theo certainly was disappointed his mother had rejected his plea, but he wouldn't give up. Oh no. Soon enough she would receive *quite* the strongly worded letter. | (It's ya boy nervous. First time here.)
I've had these dreams since I was small and on my mother's hip, dreams of death and Gore cover my beloved mother as she goes on a path of destruction burning with a blue hellfire. Dreams of the future, of the past I never knew.
Dispite all of this, she loved me. She always loved me. Even when I came home with bloody knees and tears in my eyes. She was patience with me, wiping my tears and kissing my wounds. She listened as I told her what the village kids did to me. How they taunted me, screaming 'Witchling, Witchling! Witchling'.
She never showed me any rage, only comfort in her eyes. As she bandaged me up and handed me a freshly baked pastry to shove in my mouth.
I didn't know who she was other than that she was my mother, and that I loved her.
She was older than these new gods, that those villagers worshiped. She watched them throw away the old ways and disrespect Mother Gaia, burning her shrines and defacing her effigies. As they destroyed her sister's legacy, she was nothing but a whisper on the wind, a old folk tale.
When I was only 12 summers old. She had enough.
At this point in my life, we protected the last shrine to our Mother Earth. The last forest, that keep us safe. The little folk roamed freely, nature of wild and full of abundant. We lived off of it, in this last safe Haven from Humans.
I was tending to the a elk when it started, the poor soul had a close encounter with the hunters of The Valley West. I was patching him up, the screams of the little folk still ring in my ears, as fire consumed the forest bit by bit. Eating away everything in it's path.
I was young, stupid, and I may think I am the reason my mother did what she did.
I ran towards the fire, speaking in the old tongue to the folk of the forest telling them to run. To get as far away as they can. Danger was coming. The smell Ash and burning flesh, filled my nostrils. Seeing the shadows of men approaching beyond the way of flames. I knew who has done it, they nothing for these sacred lands. Nothing for these poor creatures or for me.
As the flames spread, I threw my body over a group of little folks. The faeies and imps, on the ground choking with no means of escape. Praying to mother Gaia all would be well.
It was foolish, foolish of me to believe she would save us.
I may have stayed this way for seconds or hours, I never knew but as the flames licked my uncovered skin I held on.
The next sound I hear is something I will never forget.
An anguished scream, piercing the air. Everything went still. As if the world was holding it's breath.
The heat around me faded, being replaced with an icy cool. No sound was made, I couldn't even hear my own breathing. The fae folk beneath me was still.
I lifted my head to see her, my dear mother. Riping a humans head off his body, and discard it to the floor. Blue fire was encasing her body like armor. She poised an arm piercing it into the second man's heart, blood squirting out of him from the force yet she did not stop.
The rest of the men were trembling, weapons poised as if those weak things could do anything to her.
It was how the dreams always started. A massacre of men, but this was real.
It took everything in me not to lose my lunch. The smell of blood was too much, the coppery tang.
As my mother butchered and bloodied them, every single one. Those who ran, no longer has legs. Those who taught died quicker.
I could do nothing but sob, I wept and I wept. Until it was over.
By the time she had finished, the sun was low on the horizon.
I was shaking were I sat, legs to weak to move. Arms holding dearly onto the little folk I had saved.
She walked over to me,she was dretched in blood and pieces of gore hung off her dress.
She took me in her arms, cradling me even in her replusive state I could not refuse.
She spoke, solemnly. Graver then I have ever heard her as she took my face in her hands.
"Aisling, my dear flower. I am so sorry, for what I have to do. " | 2020-02-01T09:36:41 | 2020-02-01T09:35:50 | 85 | 26 |
[WP] most interstellar navies of the Galaxy adapted tactics from their wet-navy cousins. That was until humanity arrived they had an ocean so most figured they would adapt their wet Navy tactics to their space Navy, instead they adapted tactics from something they called the air Force. | “What exactly was a bird?” The grand admiral of the kirrra space navy thought to himself as wave after wave of human attack craft pelted their flotilla. Since the union of planets had encountered the small ape descended creatures there had been nothing but loss after loss. They had some strange ideas on how to sail in space.
Their ships had a strange grace. Instead of clumping together in flotillas they gathered in small groups in strategic shapes and attack in waves. The sociologists that had studied their species had liked it to a creature on their world called a bird. A creature that could somehow lift itself
Off the planet and move about as if it was in space. But at speeds that didn’t make sense. The videos that intelligence had shown them showed the small white creatures swooping and grabbing creatures out of the sea. Of them sailing at speeds at heights they made no sense in an atmosphere.
The humans had emulated this biology and created flying machines. Not rockets. But machines that flew more gracefully in atmosphere than the finest lurerrr ship did in the coldest vacuum.
Now because of this. The humans ships didn’t bunch up into flotillas. They didn’t have putter rings of ships. They had attack formations shaped like the birds wings. They came at the flotillas at all angles simultaneously. It was impossible to defend against an enemy that seemed to be on all sides at once.
Thinking back. The admiral recalled all the great battles of their navy. The massive flotillas of ships. Bunched together for defence. While the enemy in a similar formation. Bartered away at them. WRs were won by superior firepower and superior armour. Not by dodging and evading attacks as the humans did. The great guns of the flotilla didn’t have time to lock on one enemy let alone the hundred before it was gone from range or out shot. It was maddening. | We say we adapted, but really we just shifted from a very over/under con eot to something a little more flexible. Our weapons still used the same logic, projectiles fired on intercepts to meet long distant targets, torpedoes homing in on those close enough to make use of their short but mobile flight time. And armor. We definitely scaled up the hull plating and air gap technology. Without gravity mass was largely irrelevant, reduced speed meant nothing if you could take any hits you couldnt outrun, and decoy launchers hers handled most torpedoes.
All the species of the Conclave with successful navies followed the same basic path to success. Massive floating fortresses, each acting as a combat information hub and mobile firing platform. Our wars weren't exciting, but they were certainly brutal. The Midalii Armada boasts 40 frontline capable fortresses, at least triple that number of escort ships, they were the largest mobile garrison in the Conclave. *Were*.
"They've hit the Midalii shipyards at Yoph'kurn, and scouts report seeing their Fortresses at extreme range in the neighboring Yoph'sai system captain!" The ensign's voice came out shrill, at odds with their solid rock-like features.
*Gods help us, even the Silicar are scared of them!* "How many did they report at Yoph'sai ensign?" The ensign looked even more afraid then, though the familiar fear of a junior officer giving a bad report.
"They said six fortresses, plus escorts, sir."
"Impossible! They couldnt have done all *this* with so few, and where are their casualties if they're running?" I gesture at the expanse of Yoph'Tora star system, and the ruins of the Midalli Armada spinning in the darkness.
Captain we've picked up signs of unknown hull material in the debris field, it looks like the Midalli managed to get some shots in after all, theres not much left of it." The bridge officer called out, throwing their scans to the central image pool.
"No lieutenant, this isnt part of a fortress, this is from a much smaller hull, can we magnify? Thank you. See? That's a thruster pod if I'm not mistaken, so it couldnt me more than ten shrals long, a personal craft? Long range observers perhaps?" Bring it on board for full analysis." Before I can turn from the pool another officer replaces the image within with a degraded recording.
"Captain you're right, theres not much on this recorder, but the craft harassing the midalli fortresses, they're *tiny* how could they ever hope to damage a fortress?" A cloud of tiny ships darts between the massive hulls of the Armada, ignoring weapons systems designed to target ships at least fifty times their mass, and firing on weapons emplacements, scanners, and *gods above* main power. The recording ends with the wave of debris from the first fortress power core igniting. As multiple ships fire projectiles into the atmosphere exchange ports of the next in line. | 2020-11-21T16:23:17 | 2020-11-21T14:37:20 | 211 | 146 |
[WP] "We're not so different, you and I." The villain cackled in mania. A grim darkness sweeps over the hero's eyes. "I know." | Hasin’s eyes followed the blood trickling off the finger-sized dagger now protruding from between the man’s ribs, piercing the heart.
The round conference room now held a concoction of the dead and dying. The sound of wheezing gasps and whimpering moans were the only things of movement now, all else lay still amongst the planning table.
Only two figures remained standing on blood-soaked floorboards. Surrounded by stained papers and splattered maps the men stared at each other. It may have even appeared that they were coming out of a tight embrace with how close the two were and the steel-ladened grasps on each other’s shoulders bracing one against the other.
Drawing in a halting breath, the man across from Hasin began to speak in a croaking voice, bleeding profusely from multiple chest wounds.
“They were… civilians… you are their… hero”
The man’s eyes furrowed as he struggled to maintain his clarity, knowing he soon would be gone from this world.
“You come in the night, like a… *rat*\-” he nearly spat the word out
Struggling the regain his breath he abruptly froze as realization dawned in his eyes. Relaxing, he let himself fall faceup, back of head resting against an already fallen corpse. As if truly accepting his fate the man let loose his held tensions.
“I see… then… 6 years ago… the Massiopian people… it was not rebellious assassination that brought them to civil war it was-”
Hasin, looking down with dead eyes, stomped on the previously impaled dagger. Driving it further into the man’s chest cutting of his revelation and killing him instantly.
*The next day - As heard on the local news*
“This just in- Chancellor Nero and his supporting staff were found brutally ravaged within their upper office building here in New Tork City.”
“A shocking display of brutality was said to have occurred within”
“Of course, Chancellor Nero was set to present his new bill to congress this following week, potentially revolutionizing how we treat modern heroes”
“We have with us the leader of New Torks Enhanced, Hasin! Unfortunately, Hasin was away performing his annual worldwide tour but has returned from South Korea this morning to mourn his fallen comrade”
The camera panned to show Hasin, standing off to the side in a straight posture and regal face.
“It’s a true shame” Hasin began, a solemn look on his face
“Had I been within city limits perhaps I could have stopped this uncivil, barbaric act from according”
He looked directly at the camera
“It is a hero’s duty to protect the people after all”
*-----I had to go to a doctors apt so it cuts off super fast and I didnt get to do much review lol, sorry!-----* | The ground was blue, and the sky was green and brown. Trees descended from the heavens, with their branches like clouds. And the bushes around him white and grey clouds.
Jonathan marched into the world in a white shirt, black trousers, and held a sharp sword in his hands. He needed the sword. It was a treacherous world, after all.
Time after time, lightning bolts leapt out of the darker bushes, and apples fell from the heavens. The moon was up, so he assumed it was nighttime, the time when predators lurk in the jungles. But no predator came to face up to him. Perhaps he was lucky.
Through the clouds, he went into a deep trench. Mason Hill, it was. And even though it wasn't a hill but a trench in this world, Jonathan knew that the place was indeed Mason Hill. He could see his house in the trench.
In his world, he lived at the top of the mountain in a stone house with a red roof made of clay tiles. In the mirror world, his house was at the deepest end of the trench, and its roof was black and the walls red.
He had arrived in the mirror world to defeat the greatest villain that haunted the place. And as the greatest hero in the world, he knew that the greatest villain of the mirror world would live in the black and red house of Mason Hill.
He ran down the trench, reached the bottom at a terrific speed, and rapped on the door of the black and red house. He knocked once, he knocked twice, but no one answered the door. Instead, he heard a laugh from behind him. A terrible laugh, high and cold, quite unlike his own low, warm laugh.
"So, you have come, the greatest hero in the world. You came, Jonathan, you came down the trench."
"You can see me, right? That means I am here. What else do you need for confirmation?"
"A little blood, perhaps," the voice said.
And from a cloud bush appeared a man, bent double at the waist. His chest sunken, biceps flaccid, and harmless. He was wearing a black shirt, white trousers, and held a scabbard using his feet. He walked on his hands and appeared some way above Jonathan. On the upper parts of the trench.
"You hold a scabbard instead of a sword. You swing it with your feet instead of your hands. What hope do you have against me?"
The man, the greatest villain, laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed. "What can I do? I can do a lot of things. You wouldn't need to stop me if I didn't."
With this, the nasty villain performed a wicked dance using his feet and men appeared all over the upper parts of the trench. They had cannons, and they surrounded Jonathan.
The villain cackled. "Now you see what I can do," he said and ordered the troops to shoot.
They put the cannons on the cannonballs, and the cannons went flying towards Jonathan. The large metal guns all came at the same time, and Jonathan couldn't do anything. He was hit once, twice, thrice and god knows how many times. His bones were shattered. And he was unable to move.
"We're not so different, you and I." The villain cackled in mania. "The only difference is that I am alive, and you, you will be dead soon."
Grim darkness started to fall over the hero's eyes. Jonathan, the world's greatest hero, then raised his head and said, "I know."
Suddenly, archers appeared from the bushes surrounding Mason Hill. They aimed at the villain's cannonball cronies and slaughtered them all.
The greatest villain ran into the trench called Mason Hill. He ran past the hero lying broken in a ditch. He ran inside and stepped into the jade mirror. | 2020-12-15T09:07:46 | 2020-12-15T07:08:31 | 26 | 17 |
[WP]: No other intelligent, spacefaring life form knows the concept of sunk cost fallacy. For most of them, wars can be ended simply by presenting their capability for further war, and the weaker one yields. Humans, however, will take anyone on out of pure spite. | "...I'm sorry, what?"
"Well, maybe I didn't phrase it right. The humans seem to be indicating that... they refuse to surrender."
Thrôg'nåk pointed all 5 of his ocular sensors at his second-in-command Grīm'tår with a look of sheer disbelief.
"Did you explain to them how many ships we have in our fleet? They must surely know that they can't take on 1000 of our battle cruisers with only 230 of their scout ships left."
"Yes, they just said '4 on 1? Guess it'll be a fair fight then'"
If Thrôg'nåk had a jaw, it would've dropped to the floor.
"And did you explain how, after running countless simulations, we have determined that they simply do not yet have the technology required to penetrate our energy shields?"
"Yes, and again they responded flippantly, saying 'Yeah...*yet*'"
Thrôg'nåk nearly fell off his chair in shock. He did a decuple-take with his ocular sensors in order to convey his enormous level of astonishment to Grīm'tår accurately.
"A-and did you explain how our mothership, with its arsenal of pseudo-nova bombs, could reduce their planet to rubble in less than 5 seconds?"
"Yes I did, they replied 'That's 4 seconds longer than it'll take us to whoop your triple-cheeked alien buttocks'"
This time Thrôg'nåk really did fall off his chair, splaying all his tentacles out around him and spinning his ocular sensors around in their sockets in order to convey precisely the amount of incredulity he was currently feeling.
"But this makes no sense. Their chances of winning are so infinitesimally small, as a rational species why do they not see that their only option is surrender? Unless..."
He paused. Slowly, he clambered his way back into his chair and dangled exactly half his tentacles off the edge of the seat, while posing the rest in order to appear thoughtful.
"Grīm'tår, I think we are mistaking something here."
"What do you mean, my liege?" responded Grīm'tår, who admired the captain for keeping a calm demeanor and not overreacting to this unexpected situation.
"It is a given that a rational, intelligent species would be able to fully recognize when they cannot win a fight, yes?"
"Indeed my liege."
"And is it not also a given that a rational, intelligent species would understand that surrender is the best way to minimize loss of life in such a scenario, yes?"
"This, as well, is true my liege."
"So then, logically, there is only one conclusion we can come to here. It seems that the humans... have a secret weapon!"
At these words, Grīm'tår leaped from his seat and started ricocheting off of the sides of the cockpit, gradually gaining speed until he was going so fast he looked like a spirograph. As suddenly as he had started, he returned to his seat and stopped jumping around, though he fashioned his tentacles into the perfect pose to represent the full scope of the bewilderment he was experiencing.
"Your reasoning is sound! We must recalculate the simulations!"
"QUAMPUTER!!" Thrôg'nåk screamed out into the corridor, "RUN SIMULATIONS TO CALCULATE OUR ODDS OF WINNING IF THE HUMANS HAVE A SECRET WEAPON THAT CAN DESTROY OUR MOTHERSHIP IN LESS THAN A SECOND!!"
From the other end of the hallway, a furious whirring sound could be heard. Then, after a couple seconds, an automatic voice responded, "Simulations ran: 678,357,863,582. Simulations where the outcome was a win for the Humans: 678,357,863,504. Simulations where outcome was a win for the Flån'jür: 78. Total chances of winning calculated to be less than 0.000000012%"
At this, not even the captain could keep his cool. Both he and Grīm'tår were bouncing around the cabin like electrons around a nucleus. Once they had both significantly decreased their velocity and were back in their chairs, Thrôg'nåk looked at Grīm'tår solemnly and said, "This time, it seems we must retreat. Notify the fleet, I'll fire up the warp drives and set our destination coordinates."
"At once, Captain!" Grīm'tår replied. He knew how much his captain desired galactic conquest, and how devastating a blow this was for them to be forced to flee. He silently vowed that no matter what, even if the captain were to one day give up his ambitions, he would one day return, and get his revenge for the shame they had felt on this day.
...
...
[*Planet earth, military award ceremony in the Global Union World Capital, Cincinnati, OH*]
"It is my great honor, and pleasure, to present the Ultraviolet heart to Commander Brock Hankle, for his achievements in the war against the alien invasion of the Flån'jür."
A man who seemed to fit his name very well lumbered onto the stage and came to a stop next to the podium and speaker. The speaker, who was already standing on a raised stepstool, had to stand tiptoe in order to place the medal on him. A thunderous applause came from the crowd of thousands who had shown up in order to celebrate the miraculous defeat of their extraterrestrial enemy.
When the tumultuous cheers had died down (which took several minutes), the speaker resumed his position at the microphone.
"Now Mr. Hankle, I am not a gambling man. But I would be very confident in saying that every person here today is truly thankful for the way in which you nearly single-handedly caused the Flån'jür to retreat. I am also just as confident that we all wish to know more. So I believe I speak for everyone here when I ask you; how exactly did you manage to drive them away? What did you say that caused them to run for their lives?"
At this, the crowd fell dead silent. People were on the edges of their seats, staring intently at the image of Commander Brock Hankle on the giant screens that were displaying the live feed to those who could not see the stage. The only sound that could be heard was a baby far in the back crying because it was hungry. They watched with bated breath as their hero leaned into the microphone and opened his mouth to speak.
"You wanna know what I said?" a deep voice boomed out of the stereo speakers with great force, almost feeling as though it were causing the very ground they stood on to shake. Up on the screens, a little smirk could be seen emerging on Brock Hankle's face as he got even closer to the microphone, lips nearly brushing against it. Then, after what seemed like ages, he said in a quieter, even lower voice than before that seemed to shake people down to their very bones,
"I told them to f*** off" | It began with strange lights emanating from a wing of the Andromeda Galaxy. Then came the radio signals from a distant sector of the Milky Way. Scientists were baffled. They couldn't interpret the signals, though they were confident that they had been purposely sent by some form of intelligent life. They did not have long to be baffled, however. Mere weeks after the first flashes, the extra-terrestrial mothership appeared over New York City.
It was so large that it cast its shadow over all of greater New York, and half of Long Island, too. The ship itself was gilded in gold and pulsed with lights. Around it was an impenetrable aura of energy. It hovered silently up there, a mile above the city, for two days. That had given the top dogs of the American military plenty of time to lose their minds.
In the war rooms, officers screamed at generals, who screamed at the president, who pulled at his hair. Was it an alien ship? Was it the Chinese? Was one of them, say, the president himself, still in bed, dreaming? If it was aliens, had they come to conquer, or simply make contact? If it was the Chinese, had they come to conquer, or simply to flex their new technology, in the hopes of making the Americans bow down in awe? If it was a dream, would the president have to reevaluate his reliance on Ambien? Sure, he had heard many stories of people being driven nearly out of their wits by the stuff; but he had always believed his constitution was too firm and unshakeable, his mind to sound, to be undone by a little pink pill. The president had so many questions; but there was one thing he was certain about: if this wasn't a dream, if it really was happening, he would need to take Ambien by the fistful if he ever hoped to sleep again. That was how cranked up he was. That's how cranked up everyone was.
The most rested of the bunch had slept for an hour or two. They were exhausted, bordering on delirious. So when the lights suddenly dimmed in the war room, and a prismatic void opened up above the conference table, most believed they were hallucinating. A dark, protean cloud billowed through that preternatural tear in the fabric of space, and that cloud began to take the shape of a human being.
"Hello," it said, in a friendly voice. "I am a representative of the Andromedean Empire, come to absorb you into the fold. I apologize for our unceremonious arrival. It must have given you quite a fright. We generally like to warp outside a civilization's discovery range, so we can do our preliminaries without getting them too worked up. Alas, what's done is done. Nobody is perfect. A phrase we picked up from you, during our intelligence gathering, and with which we agree wholeheartedly."
The president was catatonic. He had turned white, and looked like he hadn't breathed in three minutes. Someone had to do something. Someone had to say something. Someone had to take charge.
"Absorb us into the fold, eh?" said commander Stern, standing up from his seat and puffing his chest out. "If you think we'll go meekly and quietly, you're mistaken. You're talking to the proud owners of tens of thousands of nuclear bombs, not to mention hundreds of thousands of other forms of advanced weaponry. Lasers that can shoot jets out of the sky in an instant. EMPs that can make that pretty little glittering ship of yours go dark and plummet to the ground. Not to mention millions of patriotic Americans who would love nothing more than to smear your guts on the sidewalk. You wanna talk war? Talk war. But your bark better be as bad as your bite, or you're in for a world of trouble."
The whole room was silent. Most of the men and women were still wrestling with the belief that this alien apparition was nothing more than a delusion their sleep deprived brains had cooked up. Those who were more grounded listened to the commander in horror. Was he really measuring dicks with the imperial messenger of an intergalactic superintelligence? What could speaking so brazenly to this alien possibly accomplish but consigning the Earth to vaporization?
"I don't believe you understand," said the vaporous humanoid. "Our research has been thorough. The destructive capacity of the entirety of your arsenal, and I am speaking of your planetary arsenal, not simply your nation's, amounts to less than one one billionth of one percent of the destructive capacity of the ship we came here in. And that ship is not even a warship. Your species is thousands of years away from creating tunnel void atomizers, and millions of years away from G-bombs. In short, you are hopelessly outgunned. Simply acknowledge yourselves as a vassal planet of the Andromedean Empire, and we'll be on our way."
"I hardly understood you before," said the commander with quiet rage. "But now you're speaking my language: the language of war. You know who I am? Commander Stern. Not Tuck-and-Run Stern. Not Capitulator Stern. Commander. And I command you to take back your veiled threats this instant, and run back to whatever shithole you come from with your tail between your legs, or you'll regret it. We've got more missiles aimed at your ship than I've got hairs on my chest. And I'm as close to a sasquatch as a man gets. Now that's gospel."
"How peculiar," said the alien, with genuine puzzlement. "This is a highly unconventional attitude. I've never heard of a species with enough reason to reach your level of civilization, and yet still enough brute animality, enough irrational pride, to take on a losing battle rather than concede. You lose nothing by declaring yourself our vassal. It's merely a legal requirement, a kind of formality. It allows the Empire to monitor your planet, and assist you with your evolution and progression."
"We don't want it," said Stern. "We don't need it. We're Americans, you bastard. The freest folks alive. We went to war with an Empire for our independence. And I'll be damned if we won't go to war with another one to keep it. So you tell that to your head office, to your emperor, to whomever you need to tell. We won't capitulate. We won't surrender."
"The only other option is elimination," counselled the alien. "Think hard, my friend, my friends. See reason. In an instant we could have your whole solar system squished down to the size of a pea. Is that what you want? It's not what we want, I can assure you. But it's our policy not to allow intelligent life to thrive without monitoring it, and it's also our policy to monitor only those planets that are members of the Empire. You see the bind? You see the situation you're in?"
"I see, alright," said Stern. "We all see. And I think I speak for all of us when I say you go to hell. Bring us the best you've got, because you'll need it. We won't cower like beaten dogs. We won't simper and bow and whine. We'll take you head to head, even if it means glorious death on the battlefield. We'll fight for our freedom. For our honor. For the sake of our kids and grandkids. We'll fight for the love of crushing alien brats like you. Don't like it? Tough shit, you shapeless freak. Because we won't go down without--"
A steel coffee thermos came down hard upon the commander's head. The commander staggered and fell to the floor in a heap. Behind him stood the president, still holding the thermos. He looked up at the alien messenger.
"We accept your terms," said the president with a quavering voice. "We'd be honored to join the Andromedean Empire. Tell your emperor, *our* emperor, we send our regards." | 2021-01-18T22:32:57 | 2021-01-18T22:20:50 | 390 | 80 |
[WP] One day you wake up with 30 dollars and a note that says “For Rent”. The thing is you aren’t renting out the place. The next day you see a spider and right before you kill it you hear it say, “Please i paid my rent don’t kill me”. | I'm not a particularly picky person. If I find thirty dollars with a strange note, I'm up thirty bucks. Hell, if they're paying, that's way better than my dogs were doing.
After interrogating my brother about it, he seemed to assume I was fucking with him and that was that. I've got places to be. Mysteries tend to unravel with time.
Returning home twelvish hours later, and my pups appeared to extremely angry at the corner. This wasn't unusual, I've had a spider web down from the ceiling to land on my hand. Unnerving, but spiders are almost entirely harmless.
A few minutes of inspection of the offending corner, I see the subject of their ire. A crab spider. A fuckin big one too. Really not my favorite, but I'm....pretty sure aren't very dangerous.
Sighing, and wondering if I should just left it to it's fate, I put my hand down flat in front of it, and go to poke it in the butt so it'll run onto my hand, when it looks me square in the eye and speaks.
"Please don't kill me, I paid rent!" Well. I'll be fucked. I've hallucinated in my day, but I'm fresh off work. This is as horrifying sober as I get.
"You, did?" I stammer. "Wait, that cash was you"? "Paid fair and square! Call off the beasts!" The pups had calmed since I came to take care of the problem, and didn't seem to register the spiders speech, which was all the better. "Well... Hop onto my hand then, I think we need to talk."
As it turns out, he has aspirations. Wanted to be a web developer. | "OY HANG ON MATE I FUCKIN PAID MY RENT!" A tiny deep voice suddenly echoes through my room as I was about to grab a bug zapper.
"Who goes there?" I asked scanning my room.
"Down here ya oversized cunt, do you have a memory of a bloody goldfish or something?" The voice appeared again.
I slowly looked down and only saw the spider on the floor staring back at me, "the spider?" I asked.
"Of course the spider ya blind cunt, why the fuck did you try to kill me?" The spider staring straight at me.
"Uh well... I'm not too fond of bugs and...."
"A BUG?!" the spider cut me off, "Im a bloody Arachnid you cunt! I even paid you to stay here!"
"Wait.... You gave me the 30 bucks this morning?"
"Yes I fucking did! Did you not see the fuckin note?"
I just stared in disbelief, "Uh well I did but I thought that it was from a.... person"
The spider seemingly offended whips a web to the ceiling and hops on to my desk, "A person? Ya think a spider can't have a job eh? I work fuckin 9 to 5 and that's more than your lazy ass will ever pull off"
"Okay fine you got a job, but why the Australian accent?"
"Why the wot?" The spider asked.
"You.... You know what never mind, do all spiders can speak like you?"
"The other? Nah most of them just fuckin scatter round and nibble on ants the moment they got out of their shells, but me? I hanged around Harvard and followed lectures, got my education there mate"
"Harvard? You're telling me, you have education from Harvard?"
"Yep"
"What did you study?"
"Just programming and Web design, got me a pretty well payin job"
"You.... You are a programmer? How do you even...."
The spider whips out a seemingly small laptop "from here mate! Made it myself!"
I sat down on my bed trying to process what's going on, "okay... One last question... Whats your salary?"
"Me? I make roughly $5000 a week mate"
Yep, a spider somehow have a better education and a better job than me and **somehow** built itself a computer, I took a deep breath and collected myself, "okay fine, you can stay here but im going to raise the rent a bit and lay some rules".
"Eh fair enough, actually hold on, before ye start laying down yer rules, I got a quick question"
"Okay shoot"
The spider whips out a tiny phone and asked, "Whats yer wifi password?".
I think my life is going to get weirder from now on. | 2021-02-18T20:02:32 | 2021-02-18T19:18:41 | 485 | 275 |
[WP] There is an average of 9,728 planes carrying 1,270,406 passengers in the sky at any given time. As these flights touch down at their airports they find them empty. In fact everywhere seems too be empty. The only people left were those in the air from commercial jetliner to single engine prop. | 11:00 PM, Tuesday March 25th. As Commercial Liner 774 touched down in LaGuardia Airport in New York City, and her passengers disembarked, they weren’t met with ground crew to properly dock with. Air Control had been dead for some time now. Mordecai, a lanky 20-something year old, was one of the first to ride down 774’s emergency slide, and saw the entirety of the air field barren. As others followed his lead, he rushed towards the airport. He’d never been the athletic type, but with fear and adrenaline pumping throughout his body, his wild and manic dashing got him inside by a considerable margin.
Flickering lights, luggage belts still looping, and an eerie silence is all that was left. He put a hand over his mouth, tears rolling down his petrified face. “I didn’t want this…” His words bounced off the walls, and reverberated through the hollow halls. “I take it back! I take it back! Take back my wish!” He was screaming, but no one could hear his cries. He’d been angry, and in a moment of weakness, he’d wished the unthinkable upon those he loved. His family, his girlfriend, Mordecai had unknowingly made them disappear. He made the whole world disappear simply because he was tired of them. But now he was terrified of being without them.
A loud shuttering came from overhead, shaking the still airport. Mordecai darted towards the nearest window, and saw dozens of planes touching down in the airfield. He fell to his knees, knowing full well he was to blame for such horrible loss of life. In a few minutes, people would pour inside, searching desperately for their loved ones, only to be all alone. Just like him. Mordecai’s hands fell to his knees, eyes puffy and red.
“Please…” He begged the nameless meteor he’d spoken to once before, “Let me pretend that airplanes in the night sky are shooting stars…” He sniffed, “I could really use a wish right now…” | "Everyone stay calm!" I yelled in pure desperation as we saw the being chasing after us, the flesh and blood of everyone else on earth heading towards us, to add us to the collective. I know it'll tire out soon, and when it does, it should die. This is the thing that had stolen everyone from ground zero...
We landed down and expected to see more people, but they all had disappeared, in fact, we all were the only ones there, we managed to contact air plane pilots to see if they had disappeared, and nope, they hadn't
"The hell's going on here?" My co-pilot had said in a graspy, confused tone, almost sounding like he had barely any air "Everyone just upped and disappeared" "I know" I replied quickly, softly and calmly. "It has to be one of those creatures" "Those creatures? You mean the ones stuck in the cave we saw whilst we were scuba divers?" My co-pilot had said, this time in a shaking, scared tone, whilst still retaining that grasping for air sounding breaths. "Those things forced me to have therapy for months" "I know" I replied as I came across the creature I knew we were about to face...
The Human Snatcher had stolen the entirety of our diving crew back then, we knew it had offsprings, we saw them before it attacked us, but to know that they could have evolved to be on land, and how big that one got after eating its offspring to attack us, I had to funnel everyone into the airplane.
Before we knew it, we heard thumps, then we saw it on the horizon, I quickly saw it trying to ambush us, and in a move I knew I would have to do to save us, I had to fly upside down and control the pitch, yaw, and roll perfectly to do a quick 180, people started panicking, airplanes started turning in all different directions, and in a desperate attempt, I yelled...
"Everyone stay calm!" to everybody in the airplane, it wasn't gaining on us, but I knew we had to get higher to avoid the fleshy debris when this thing died...it obviously had fed on its own kind, and was expecting to eat us all then reproduce, if we could outrun it, it would die, killing The Human Snatcher off, but also killing thousands, It seemed to be speeding up, so I and a couple other airplanes decided to try to go over the monster...
It was a risky stunt, one wrong move and we'd be dead, but as we all cheered, the monster had been flown over, chasing some birds it thought was us, as we flew away, we saw it blow up into tiny pieces, it had used up all of it's energy, the energy usually used to sustain itself from exploding due to how much mass it had built up to snatch and absorbed humans, and most of us were heading towards the airport...
as we all landed, 1,270,406 people simultaneously did a sigh of relief, as I talked to my Co-pilot...I couldn't help but feel the other monsters we saw would get involved...I shudder at the thought of that... | 2021-08-14T03:15:24 | 2021-08-13T22:35:46 | 184 | 22 |
[WP] You can't help but stare at your husband. He's standing in the kitchen making dinner, like he always does. He smiles at you like he always does. Problem is, you killed your husband. Three years ago. | No authority, religious, political or otherwise, in the history of the world has condoned murder among its adherents. Perpetrators are sought, actions atoned for, and vengeance made communal. But sometimes murder is the only just and righteous outcome of an equation whose variables were fixed long before the birth of those involved.
My name is Paula Mae Washburn, but my maiden name was Harlin. I’ve kept my married name because, like my husband Jacob, some things die hard. As he liked to say, we were married young and long. I was just 17 when he proposed, and that was 47 years ago. I was pregnant before our first anniversary, and again two years later. Jacob got a good paying job at the wood treatment plant next to the mill and everything was on the up and up. We were just children ourselves back then, with childish notions about what life would be. But as so often happens, life doesn’t turn out how you’d have thought.
Jacob’s been dead and buried three years now. I stood with my kids and their own kids at his funeral and told stories of Jacob to our closest friends at the gathering in our backyard. We cried, we laughed, we hugged, and then they departed and once I was finally all alone I drew myself a warm bath and allowed myself a smile – a big full toothed smile – for the first time in days. He’d been sleeping with our neighbour, Wendy, for the better part of a decade. Wendy was the only one at the funeral crying harder than I was. I have no idea what he saw in that fat sow, but I was not going to be disrespected in my own home, embarrassed in my community.
I’d considered his murder for a long time. Not whether to do it – that was a foregone conclusion – but how to do it. All the different ways and weighed each’s pros and cons. I landed on death by poison by happenstance. I’d long been waitressing at Ethel’s Diner on the morning shift, and one day a neighbour of mine mentioned his well had tested with arsenic in it. Not enough to harm someone mind you, but its presence alone hit me like a message straight from God himself. At the library I found a book that said arsenic was used in pesticides, herbicides, insecticides, and – a second sign straight from the heavens – wood treatment, like at the plant where Jacob worked. Getting the arsenic was easy enough being surrounded by farm country. Jacob even had some for his rat baits in the barn.
It took longer than I thought. I had hoped for weeks, thinking maybe if he was gone in the spring I could finally go south the following winter. But as it happens, he lasted through the summer and through the fall, finally succumbing just before Christmas on one of the coldest days of the year. His coworkers reported that he had clutched his chest and had troubles breathing, and everyone assumed it was a heart attack. Without any outward reason to be suspicious, I neglected the autopsy.
So here we are, three years to the day that Jacob collapsed. This morning when I woke up for my shift at Ethel’s I heard a racket in the kitchen. As I walked down the hall, I smelled eggs on the stove and fresh coffee on the percolator. I near had a heart attack when I turned the corner to the kitchen and there stood Jacob, with his back to me at the stove, humming to himself like he always did.
Jacob, I said as I reached out to the wall. I was suddenly aware of the pounding of my heart in my ears, drowning out Jacob’s humming.
Jacob, what are you doing here? I called out again. My vision was going dark at the edges and my legs were giving out.
I fell backward and hit my head on something hard. I tasted blood in my mouth and felt my chest tightening like someone was sitting on me. All the while, Jacob was humming with his back to me.
What no one tells you about death is that after your heart stops and death is a certainty, for just a moment your brain keeps going, keeps receiving signals and keeps processing. In that moment, I recalled from my reading on arsenic that long term exposure can lead to delayed but profound psychological impairments including visual and auditory disturbances. | "So, What do you think?" I asked my husband who was standing hands in the sink, looking over his shoulder while I talk. He's tall, dark and handsome with emerald green eyes that smiled at me. He washed his hands and continued to cut the deer meat up. "I know you like to stay in and aren't very social, but everyone is taking their spouse. I'd be the only one without mine by my side. It's only 2 hours and there will be an all you can eat buffet." I stopped myself mid thought, remembering he hasn't been eating lately. He isn't getting any thinner either, just looks washed out and pale. He shook his head and laughed that deep laugh I love so dearly! "Oh honey, if that's what will make you happy, then sign me up!" I couldn't help but just be mesmerized by the sight of him. My husband, the charming, attractive, and loving man I've always dreamt of. This always happens, I get so caught up in the thought of him, I lose concentration of the situation at hand. How did I get so lucky? A homely small town girl with long mousey brown hair which matched my dull eyes, and grew up sheltered. Marries the popular jock from the big city. I guess opposites do attract, because here we are! I always imagine what our children would look like, him and, or, me? There goes my mind again wondering off like always. I can't help it though, I'm obsessed with him! I don't know what I'd do if.. I... lost him.
Later that night a thunderstorm formed out in the distance. I could see the clouds rolling fast and threatening towards our ranch. The tall sunflower field is dancing with the wind as if making love. I can feel the moisture of the storm tickle my skin. I wonder, where did he go? I hope it's not to far out, he'll get stuck in the storm! I go find my rain boots and coat and throw them on. Wherever he's at he must have got caught up in his chore, he doesn't realize the nasty storm that's creeping up on us. I'll just go find him and bring him in, I think to myself.
Outside is now a dark, wet nightmare. I think I can see way out to the north a funnel cloud take shape. I climbed down off the ladder that leads to the top of the barn. Where did he go? I start to panic a little, he's nowhere to be found. The truck is still outside and the 4 wheelers still tucked away in the shed. The winds now whipping my hair violently at my wet face. "I'm going to kill him when I find him for having me out here looking for him," I said out loud. Just then the sunflowers dance was interrupted in the middle. They danced a different way now, as if a force was pushing them the opposite direction. I take off running through the field, getting slapped in the face by the stems as the wind continues to shove them around. I'm calling out his name, nothing is responding but the howl of the wind. I panic again as I continue to yell out his name and run through the field. Lightning flashes in front of my eyes, but this time it brings an image to my head, a women's legs. I keep going pushing past the long thick flower stems. Then the thunder booms over head, and with this I hear a women's laughter, and a man's sigh. My husband's sigh, is he close? I kept going yelling and searching. The lighting flashes again and again I see legs, this time bloody legs. I stop and shiver, what was that? The thunder bangs, and again I hear a scream, "please don't!" My husband's voice again! Is he being hurt?! I take off in a run again, even more panicked now. Then suddenly my feet slip out from under me, BAM my face slammed right into the mud, my tooth chips on a rock. I look down at the rock as I held my head in my hands. Wait.. a minute, I gasped loudly as I realized, this isn't a rock at all.. it's a skull! I start to dig furiously, my fingers raw to the bone. The hole I'm digging is filling with water as the rain is coming down hard. My hands found something hard, I grabbed it and bring it to the surface. It's another skull! I'm trembling rapidly as I examine the skulls. How can this be?! Who do these belong to? If only I can find my husband, this is all to much for me right now. I start to fill with rage! WHERE IS HE! I quickly stand up and spin around towards the ranch. The wind is at horrific speeds and I'm sliding sideways in the mud. Holding on to the stems for support as my feet are now starting to lift into the air. Suddenly to the side of me, I see what looks to be a tractor tire ripping through the air. CRACK! My heads feels as though it had just exploded as things start to burst behind my eyes. I go limp, the last things I seen were the two muddy skulls floating on top of the mud filled hole down below me. My last thoughts as I release my grip and allow myself to be taken was, I found him. | 2022-02-22T13:41:54 | 2022-02-22T13:03:24 | 39 | 13 |
[WP] In a chaotic, crime-ridden world, two heroes cross paths by destiny. One is an American weeaboo who dresses as a samurai. The other is a Japanese man who dresses as a cowboy. | Their fates will be forever intertwined.
The American's name was Shinobi. He wore a black mask over his face and carried a sword, which he used to cut down his enemies. His eyes were hidden behind the mask, but he still had his trademark smug smile.
"So that's the way it is, huh? You're just gonna stand there and watch me die?"
Shinobi was standing in front of the cowboy, who wore a red hat, a white shirt, and a pair of jeans. His weapon of choice was a six-shooter pistol.
"Oh, I'm not gonna let you die," said the cowboy. "I'll shoot you with this gun, then I'll throw your body into the river."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, I'm going to kill you," said the cowboy. "I don't want you getting in my way, so I'm going to kill you."
"You're right. I should have thought of that sooner," said Shinobi. "Well, then, I guess I'll go ahead and die."
With that, Shinobi raised his sword high above his head.
"Don't bother."
"Huh? You're gonna save me?" Shinobi Asks
"That's right. I'm going to save you."
The cowboy fired his gun, aiming for Shinobi's head.
"That's how it's done!"
Shinobi dodged the bullet and cut the cowboy across the stomach.
"Whoa! You got me!"
The cowboy fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.
"Wow, you're fast, Shinobi. But I'll get you next time."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be waiting."
With that, Shinobi ran away.
It Was A Typical Day at comicon | "You look ridiculous," Jason said, "there weren't any Asian cowboys."
"I look ridiculous?" Ichigo asked indignantly. "At least I can see my dick."
The looting criminals nearby stopped and started laughing raucously. Several of them slapped Ichigo on the back as he stood there with a smug grin on his face. One of the criminals said, "I'd never let a motherfucka say some that shit like that to me." Jason turned red with embarrassment and frustration as he looked around at the looters. Another one of criminal hollered, "don't look at us, bitch, talk to Clint Fareastwood over there!"
Jason turned back to Ichigo as he tried to put a look of determination on his face. He looked uncomfortable and constipated. "Okay, I may be chubby, but," Jason paused to think then smiled as the perfect response flowed from his mouth, "but that's okay because your mom like's to chase my chubby."
The criminals groaned with disappointment and resumed stealing and breaking things. Ichigo looked at Jason with pity, disgust, and annoyance. "Honestly, before, I didn't care about you lampooning around in the armor of my warrior ancestors, but now I'm both offended by your get up, and feeling stupid about mine." Jason looked down dejectedly as Ichigo whistled for his horse. When the horse came, Ichigo hopped on and said, "man fuck all this cowboy shit. I'm gonna go back to being a billionaire/olympic swimmer/cashew farmer/EDM DJ/private investigator."
Jason raised his head to watch Ichigo ride off into the sunset. They were in a city, however, and it was two in the afternoon, so he watched Ichigo ride two blocks then make a left. He pretended Ichigo rode off into the sunset, anyway.
As one of the looters from earlier passed, Jason asked, "you get it, though, right? Chubby chaser? Like, she likes fat guys but also chubby means-"
"If you have to explain it, it ain't funny," the looter interrupted without breaking his stride.
"Yeah, but," Jason tried to continued, but was cut off by another looter.
"Bruh," the looter bellowed, "you're not funny! You're a fat, weird nerd! Go back to your mom's basement, and get the fuck out of our way!"
By this point, several of the other looters had stopped to watch. Their stares felt like an imminent ass whooping, so Jason chuckled nervously, and backed away from the criminals chuckling all the way in an attempt to defuse the situation. When he got far enough away, he spun around and ran.
The last thing he heard before turning the corner was more laughing from the criminals, and somebody screaming, "run, ya fat bitch!" | 2022-06-30T02:18:29 | 2022-06-29T22:50:31 | 34 | 18 |
[WP] Legends say that Welsh Corgis were battle mounts for the Fae. Turns out that those legends are true, and some fairies have shown up to draft your dog. | "By the order of his majesty Federico, we have come to call on Sparky to do his duty to the fairy kingdom in this time of war with the forces of the archfey Boros." The tiny winged person says, an air of importance in her teeny voice.
"What the fuck? You cant have my dog! Who the fuck is Boros? What the shit is an archfey?"
"An archfey is an ancient and powerful fey entity with mystical powers far beyond the reach of ordinary fey." The confused and exasperated fairy flies up and hovers in front of my face.
"O...kay.... so who the fuck is Boros and why are you fighting him?" I maintain eye contact, as much as thats possible with a tiny fairy, and wait.
"Boros is the archfey tyrant who rules over a portion of the fey realm where our beautiful fairy kingdom resides. He seeks to steal the fairy children and turn them into slaves whose sole purpose is to be harvested for fairy dust." Says the surprised fairy, who i now realize is a woman in what appears to be something akin to a victorian era military uniform.
I look at her for a long moment, before i make up my mind.
"You cant take my dog off to fight in some war, but i won't leave you hangin either. Nobody fucks with kids while i got anything to say about it." I tell the fairy officer, walking out for a moment before smiling at her as i re-enter the room.
"What did you mean by that?" The diminutive winged woman says skeptically. I cock my shotgun and clip my pistol into its holster, then shrug my shoulders to settle the body armor and alice pack straps across my chest.
"Hop on little lady, we got an archfey to kill." She looks up at me, then down at my dog, then back up at me. Seemingly deciding she prefers the giant, heavily armed ape, to the derp currently losing a fight with a teddy bear at my feet. Before taking flight from her position on the ground, and landing on my shoulder, grabbing my ear for support.
I walk out the front door and send a text to my mom to come over and pick up Sparky as something has come up suddenly and i have to go away for awhile. I close my messaging app and connect to the bluetooh speaker in my backpack, then hit play.
*The only thing they fear is you* begins to play over my Bluetooth speaker as i step into the glowing circle of mushrooms outside my front door and i disappear from the only world ive ever known. | I love my little dumbass dog, Basco, however he has a few screws loose. He will chase after any flashes of lights or reflections, he will bark at the empty air, and unfortunately he’s not friendly towards other dogs. But he will always protect me, he doesn’t like it when anyone comes near me.
As many flaws he has, I still love my Basco. He is my loyal companion. Though I will never show it to him, I’ll call him all the insults under the sun, but in a high pitch cooing voice while I pet him, he doesn’t under stand he enjoys it.
“Awwh, how’s my little freak of nature? Why do you have a face only a mother could love? Good thing I’m your mom >:D”
So when he was doing his usually barking into the empty air and The Fae appeared, well to say the least I was shocked.
“Hello, little one” the voice boomed.
“You are one fine corgi, you clearly have the qualifications, so why not join our army? We have good benefits”
“Grrrrrr hmph”
“Well what’s the issue then?”
-Snap- “grr”
“Oh well if your owner is the issue, we can take care of her”
I couldn’t just let them take my steed, “Sorry to interject, but this is my dog, I will n e v e r depart from him, so I must ask that you lea-“
Fae interrupts, “As I was saying you are quite a fin-“
“I said leave”
“Ok human…. What’s your issue? What are you even going to do with this dog? Let him laze around in an apartment all day? Corgis are meant for battle! Not what ever this is.”
“This is true friendship. He will not be leaving.”
“Well I’m not asking you, I’m asking him.”
…… silence from Basco.
We both had to ask, we both had to know. “Basco what do you want?”
I want to believe he is my loyal companion.
Basco shakes his head no at the fairy, he exits the room and walks into the bedroom, he moves a painting, and there lies a space filled with treasures from adventure. A saddle embroidered in a pattern with the warm colored threads that match the Faes pendent.
The Fae speaks“I knew I was drawn too you for a reason. You were one of us! One of the Old Norwich.”
“Basco, I love you so much and so dearly, I knew you were a freak of nature but this seems a bit extreme, you can go if you want, and I will always miss you, you are the best dog ever, and I mean EVER!”
Basco lifts his paw and hits my knee.
He shakes his head no at the Fae. I wish I could understand what he said.
“Why? I do not understand!” The Fae exclaims.
But Basco just sits down at my feet.
“YOU CAN BE GREAT AGAIN!!…… I’m not winning this…Basco, I’ll come back, I know you want to come back“
I had to interject,”if you’re looking for a steed for battle, there’s a few shelters nearby full of animals looking for some sort of adventure.
“A shelter? I don’t need shelters animals, I need a strong and vicious mount!”
“Uh yea, go check the shelter out. Get a dog you can name yourself. Basco is mine and my little single digit IQ dog is staying with me.
Bonus
https://imgur.com/a/1LgNiK9 | 2022-07-18T22:57:39 | 2022-07-18T22:07:21 | 191 | 22 |
[WP] The reason we don't remember our previous reincarnations is because most past lives in the pre industrial era were short affairs that often ended before the child even made it to 5, making storing memories frankly a huge waste of time. Now things are changing, people are starting to remember | "But Mommy, why won't you help that man?" Julia was pointing. Her mom had told her it wasn't nice to point, but how else was anyone supposed to know who you were talking about. The man she pointed at was sitting on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign. Julia couldn't read the writing. He had a dog.
Julia's mom grabbed her hand and adjusted Julia's fur trimmed coat as she hurried her along. Their coats matched. "Some people just can't be helped, Juley Dear. If you give them money they'll just spend it on drink. If they deserve help, the church will give it to them. Or they'll get a job."
She turned back to stare at the man as her mom pulled her along. "Mommy, I remember when I wanted a job but nobody would give me one. Maybe he wants a job but nobody will give him one."
Mommy stopped to look at some handbags in a window. They looked a lot like the one she was holding, but Mommy had a lot of handbags. She never let Julia play with them at home. "You were line leader at school last week, and didn't you say that it was your job to feed the fish next week?"
"No, Mommy, I mean back before. Before I was Juley. When I was a man like him and nobody would give me a job." Julia swayed and swung, hanging on to Mommy's arm. Looking at handbags in windows was boring.
"You have such the imagination, Dear. I'm sure somebody would have given you a job if you were willing to work hard. Come along." Mommy dragged her into the store. It was filled with more handbags, each on their own table. And more employees than customers.
The employees were all dressed in little black dresses. One of them greated Mommy. Julia stuck out her tongue. "And I was never allowed to go into stores. Not in the front door."
"What are you going on about now, Juley? Be still. I want to look at the new bag." Mommy said that last bit to the rest of the room and several of the employees started to scurry about. Mommy came here a lot.
"They wouldn't let me go in the front door or eat lunch or nothing. People were mean to me when I was a man. I don't know why. People are always nice to Daddy." Mommy was looking at the bag, so Julia just spun around in the middle of the room for a bit. One of the employee's smiled at her, but watched her carefully.
Mommy smiled. At the new handbag. "Oh, I'll take it. Just put it on the account. Come on now, Juley."
They walked back out onto the street. Julia screamed. Mommy turned to look at her and saw that she was pointing again.
"Stop that, Julia. Those are policemen, they are our friends." Mommy gave her a stern look.
Julia hid behind Mommy. "But Mommy, before, when I was a man. The police are the ones that killed me."
\[More writing at r/c_avery_m\] | *Download initiated.*
*Series 1:*
*Stage 1:* Fetus. Normal.
*Stage 2:* Birth. 99 percent normal. Birthmark stored on right hip.*
*Stage 3:* Infancy. 85 percent normal. Language delayed. Parental patience below normal. Scar stored above left eyebrow.
*Stage 4:* Toddler. 80 percent normal. Family dog has above level patience. Family cat has normal trust levels of children. Memory deemed unsafe for public view. Scared stored on right pinky finger.
*Stage 5:* Adolesconce. 79 percent normal. No friendships recorded. Low marks in. Elementary school. Below normal amount if spoken language. Above average level of written language.
*Stage 6:* Teenager. 70 percent normal. Family dog buried in the woods behind the family home. Family cat ran away. Emotional scars not stored. Scar stored on right forearm.
*Stage 7:* Young adult. 60 percent normal. Police report presented. Ostracized from Family home.
*Stage 8:* Death. Scar stored on left arm. Died in captivity.
***
***
"What the fuck," Tanner asked as he shut down the monitor in front of him. "What is this?"
Zach shrugged. "One of your lives." He leaned over the shoulder of his friend and scrolled back to the top of the black and green screen. He tapped the second line before standing up straight again. "Your first one even. Wonder when it was. You could find out if you–"
"No," Tanner interrupted. "I don't think I want to know. People believe this stuff?"
Zach tilted his head to one side. "Nothing to believe. It's the truth. Not like it's some new program but a crypto Boi or something. "
Tanner crossed hid arms over his chest, a scowl moving across his face. "But what this is saying about me…" He trailed off, unsure about finishing the sentence on his mind.
Zach laughed, a strange laugh from deep in his gut.
It didn't sound like his normal laughs– it hit tanners ears weird.
He very much didn't like it. He didn't like any of this.
"It's not you. Not really. It was some version of you like, 500 years ago or something. No judgement dude," Zach said.
Tanner didn't find it reassuring. "I don't know. I don't think I wanna see anymore. Not right now at least."
"You sound like my little sister," Zach said , shoving his elbow into Tanners shoulder.
Tanner pushed his seat back, forcing his friend to move in the process. "Shut the hell up. Let's go do something else instead."
Zach shrugged again, a quiet laugh still escaping him as the two walked away from the library computers and back into the parking lot.
***
*Download initiated. Subject gone. DNA sufficiently present.*
*Series 2.*
*Stage 1:* Fetus. 99 percent normal. Late development of vocal chords.
*Stage 2:* Birth. 97 percent normal. Birthmark stored on right hip.
*Download buffering. Subject gone. DNA sufficiently present.*
*Download buffering.Subject gone. DNA sufficiently present.*
*Download buffering.Subject gone. DNA sufficiently present*
*Download initiated. Subject gone. DNA sufficiently present*
*Stage 3:* Infancy. 95 percent normal. Parents displayed slightly below average levels of patience. Family cat given away at signs of mismatch temperaments. Scar stored above left eyebrow.
***
"You do have that scar on your face though," Zach said at the first red light out from the parking lot. "The one on your eyebrow."
Tanner scowled again, and smacked his friend on the back if the head. He'd been trying not to think about that scar, or his birthmark. The whole memory thing had left him uneasy.
Very, very uneasy.
***
Hii! You can find more by me over at r/beezus_writes | 2022-10-24T09:18:35 | 2022-10-24T08:10:39 | 61 | 11 |
[WP] You're a 'comically incompetent' supervillain for a group of C-List heroes. They are no real threat to you, so you endure their childish speeches. However, when the heroes raid the civilian business you run on the side and injure your employees, you decide to take yourself seriously for once. | C-list was a comfortable position. I hardly ever had to put much work into the villainy aspect, so I got so focus more on my personal business. And, It meant I got to be a little bit goofy, which is always fun. For the most part, the heroes I ended up facing were kind, helpful, and sweet. I even kept in contact with a few of them.
Despite being publicly listed as a villain by most government, the truth is a bit more complicated. For most would be heroes, I'm the first real stumbling block they face, the test that's given to see if they can handle the serious threats posed by others, or if they'd be better of sticking with small-scale threats and crime on a small scale.
I also existed to weed out true villains masquerading themselves as heroes. that is where this story begins.
I was working at my bookstore, a small little place with a cozy atmosphere. I had a few employees, mostly people who had recently gotten out of prison and had tried to turn their lives around. Good people, hard workers.
It was a slow day, and then in walked "The Hammer," The most recent "hero" I'd been tasked with assessing. He didn't lack power, that was for certain. He had the ability to turn any part of his body into any metal, super-strength, super-speed, and flight to boot. What he lacked was morals. He only seemed to care about himself, and he could get quite angry when he didn't get his way.
The store was no stranger to heroes and villains visiting, but most were discrete, using their secret identity. But here was The Hammer, in his full getup, standing in the open doorway after he'd kicked down the door.
"I know you're here Amanda! Come on out!" His voice boomed
I saw Amanda standing frozen. she turned to run, but was hardly able to move before the hammer rushed over to her and grabbed her by the arm. I spoke up.
"Sir! let go of my employee!"
He scoffed "Your employee? did you know that she's a thieving piece of shit?"
"That's not relevant, let go of her and get out of my store now."
"Or else what? You'll report me? Who do you think they're gonna believe, a small bookstore manager and his criminal employee, or the greatest up-and-coming hero?" He squeezed Amanda's arm, she let out a cry of pain.
"There's a lot of people outside, and seeing you drag out a screaming woman is bound to create rumors."
I saw the thought of his reputation being damaged enter his head, and he let go of her hand. "Fine, but I'll be back. And when I come back, you'd better come quietly, or else this little bookstore might be reduced to a pile of rubble by a tragic 'accident.'" He gave Amanda a shove and then stormed out of the building.
Amanda had a fracture in her arm. I reported The Hammer to the organization that assigned heroes and villains their ranks. They told me to deal with it how I saw fit, and they'd keep press coverage to a minimum, letting me keep my C-list ranking.
Next morning, he was going to be given a mission to stop me. I was going to make a volcano erupt or something stupid, I didn't really care about the details, what mattered was that it was remote.
He arrived right on queue, wearing his full costume. I had neglected to wear mine, instead wearing my manager's uniform. The fool didn't even make the connection, and just started making fun of me. He didn't even notice the spike of stone forming until it passed through his chin. If he hadn't been so careless and overconfident, he might've stood a chance against me me, but it was going to get him, or someone else killed eventually.
His body was never found. The news story was that after stopping me, he decided he simply didn't want to be a hero. For his secret identity, he went missing on a hiking trip.
Amanda made a full recovery, and there was a small party welcoming her back. Like continued on, and there was one less villain in the world | \[ParaSEC Target File, Threat Level: Low\]
* C-Class audiokinesis \[Looping and pitch. No evidence of volume control\]
* D-Class speedster abilities. \[Slightly faster run speed. Potential sensory acuity - further evidence required\]
* Target demonstrates propensity to use powers exclusively for show. All 'villainous' activity mundane in nature, possibly a publicity stunt. \[Officially denied by all contacted PR agencies. IntOps priority low - pursue only if convenient during other activities\]
\[End File\]
You know the problem with most villains?
Okay, trick question. There's no *one* problem with them, usually it's the egomania, or psychopathy, or the tunnel-vision. I used to say that they lacked flair, but some of them have a decent sense of drama with those capes. The real problem? They lack *fun.*
Not Jester's knife-wielding jack-in-the-box fun, but something that makes life genuinely enjoyable in itself. Sadism doesn't count. That's why I'm different, I'm not here to crush the world in my iron grasp, or to torture the world. I'm a villain for kicks.
Welcome to the world of DJ Dastardly.
Do you *know* how hard it is to give yourself a silly name as a villain? I had to fight *months* of media calling me things like 'Remix'. It's hard to scaremonger around someone with a silly name, they conveniently left out footage of my preferred moniker spraypainted everywhere for MONTHS. It was only once some kids posted it on social media that they were forced to give in. After that, I was Page 17 material at best.
I'm a heist-villain. Low level stuff- museums, science fairs, that one time I nabbed the mayor's statue at town hall. High visibility, low impact. That's my game, and my 'nemeses'... Well, let's just say the same goes for them too.
I've got a lot of respect for Eclipse Squad's PR team. It takes a creative mind to look at a human strobe light, a gothic fog machine, and a B-class telekinetic ("but DJ, she can fly!". She floats, and can make other things float. I'm shaking in my very fashionable boots) and give them some damn good branding.
So, here's the score (and believe me, I know scores)- You're somewhere public, but with oddly good acoustics. Someone takes a step, and it echoes a little bit too much. Then again. It starts looping- no one's walking anywhere, but now there's a tok-tok-tok of a 4/4 beat. I used to always have to say the name myself, but nowadays if I'm lucky someone else guesses first.
*DJ-DJ-DJ-DJ-DJ D-D-D-Dastardly!* (they only say it the once, the effect is all me).
From there, you're all part of the performance. Every step, noise, gasp, and laugh? It goes in the soundtrack. I'm a one-man-acapella/percussion looping pedal, and the audience? They're starting to like me. Turns out security guards find it really hard to focus when everything they do gets looped into a live performance. I'm there taking a bow at the item-du-jour, and Eclipse Squad roll in. Midnight's black fog blocks my camera angle, Moonlight *tries* to stun me with a flare (come on kid, *I'm in a cloud of black smoke, think about it*.), then Luna tries to knock me over the head with some slow-moving object. I throw them a bone "Damnit Eclipse Squad! You've foiled me again! But I'll be back for an encore!", and slip out the back.
All fun and games, honestly a great way to spend an afternoon, not to mention boost listens on my soundcloud! Until it got serious.
Turns out strobe-boy *moonlights* as a wannabe hacker (I'm not sorry). Tracked my IP to the little music studio I run. The one with the music program to keep delinquent kids off the streets.
They roll up in full-costume, see some kid that they'd knocked around for graffiti before and decide that this is DJ Dastardly's gang lair, and that the kids are my 'henchmen'. Eclipse Squad might be idiots, but as it turns out, when faced with blinding smoke and flashing lights, a lot of teenagers panic. Now imagine an enclosed space with a *bunch* of panicking teenagers who can't see.
3 concussions, one broken leg, 6 cases of PTSD. I'm just thankful Eva had detention, I don't want to know if Moonlight's power could've triggered her epilepsy.
I'm protective of my kids. They've had a bad run, and I was trying to show them a way *out* of the system. The injuries were one thing, but because they found a little weed on him, Jim's going back to juvie. That was the last straw. | 2022-11-29T08:15:42 | 2022-11-28T20:44:52 | 25 | 11 |
[WP] A cop arrives at the golden gate bridge to talk a man out of committing suicide. After they have a short conversation, the cop jumps off the bridge. | "Sir, Why do you want to end your life?"
He turned towards me, a few days of growth on his face. "I'm the scum of the earth. All I do Is drink and smoke, and I have lovers who pays all my bills. I don't deserve life! LIFE IS TOO GOOD FOR ME!"
It was always sad for me to see people here. Usually, it was only one moment in their lives that brought them hear, one slip up and they're here.
I eventually persuaded him to come down, and he explained how he would use his looks and charm to get women to pick up his tab when he was broke, and it eventually got out of hand, he fell in love with one of the girls he used his charm on.
"I-I mean she wants to run away with me! Tonight! But if she ever found out who I was, who I really was, she's never forgive me."
I thought for a second, and then went back to my squad car and got my cell phone. "Call your lover. Put it on speaker. Tell her where you are, and what you are. If she comes to get you, then she truly loves you. If not, we can still get you help."
The mans hands were shaking as he typed in the number. As it began to rang, he looked up to me and said "Thanks sir." I smiled. No one should ever feel the need to take their own life.
Then I heard the voice on the phone. "Honey, I'm picking up the kids, I can't talk right now. See you when you get home, alright?" | Frank pulled up to the dreary scene with a defeated sigh. He usually got here too late, but if he was lucky enough to arrive before they jumped, he just got to enjoy watching another human die.
The rain pounded down and Frank wondered why they were never taught how to talk someone down in the academy, only shooting and interrogating.
He had seen this scene too many times to count, a man, or woman, stands over the side of the burnt orange bridge, arms outstretched, holding on to the railing and shaking.
Although...this one was different, he was not shaking, he seemed calm, tranquil, even. The man wasn't too tall, about 5'9" and stocky. His arms lay lifeless at his sides, the howling winds and powerful rain seemingly avoiding him.
Frank walked closer to the man, hoping to have a conversation before the inevitable. Before he could say a word, the stocky man spoke, "Why don't you join me up here Frank?" It seemed more of an order rather than a question, and so Frank, ignoring the fact that this man had known his name, made his way up, hoping he could get close enough to push the man to safety, a chance to save at least one.
Frank managed to climb up beside the man, both of them on the edge now, side by side. "You need to get down, sir. There's more in life to live for." That's what you say to these people right? There's something to live for? Something better right around the corner? He knew himself that wasn't true. That things don't come easy, and that self-pity doesn't do much for one's own life, but he had to try something, anything to save him.
"You know Frank", the man said, ignoring the previous statement, "I've lived for 38 years, and the one thing I've learned, is that shit don't come too easy to nobody. We all got our problems, some worse than others but we all got our problems. You wanna know what your problem is Frank? You wanna die. You watch these people do this every damn day, and you envy em', cuz you ain't got the balls to do what they do, to jump. So I'll give you a choice here bud. Either you jump, or I jump. You can save one, me, you can save me. I'll give you a moment to decide."
Frank pondered the argument made by this young man. He was old, tired, worn out and exhausted with the shit in this world, in a way, he had died long ago.
He thought for a moment, leaned in closer to the stocky man, and whispered, "Nah fuck you dude", and pushed him. | 2014-07-04T22:08:36 | 2014-07-04T22:00:36 | 605 | 81 |
[WP] A cop arrives at the golden gate bridge to talk a man out of committing suicide. After they have a short conversation, the cop jumps off the bridge. | "Sir, Why do you want to end your life?"
He turned towards me, a few days of growth on his face. "I'm the scum of the earth. All I do Is drink and smoke, and I have lovers who pays all my bills. I don't deserve life! LIFE IS TOO GOOD FOR ME!"
It was always sad for me to see people here. Usually, it was only one moment in their lives that brought them hear, one slip up and they're here.
I eventually persuaded him to come down, and he explained how he would use his looks and charm to get women to pick up his tab when he was broke, and it eventually got out of hand, he fell in love with one of the girls he used his charm on.
"I-I mean she wants to run away with me! Tonight! But if she ever found out who I was, who I really was, she's never forgive me."
I thought for a second, and then went back to my squad car and got my cell phone. "Call your lover. Put it on speaker. Tell her where you are, and what you are. If she comes to get you, then she truly loves you. If not, we can still get you help."
The mans hands were shaking as he typed in the number. As it began to rang, he looked up to me and said "Thanks sir." I smiled. No one should ever feel the need to take their own life.
Then I heard the voice on the phone. "Honey, I'm picking up the kids, I can't talk right now. See you when you get home, alright?" | "Hey buddy! You can't do that here! Do you know how much of a pain it is to fish people out of the water?" Officer Dave shouted to a man about to jump from the Golden Gate Bridge.
"Who cares," said the man. "Just leave me down there if you have to. I'm not worth the trouble."
"No."
"Why not?" The man leaned closer to the edge. He trembled, and Officer Dave made sure to keep his distance.
"I don't know, sir. I don't write the rules. What is your name?"
"Perry."
"What the hell has taken you here, guy?"
"I killed a man," Perry said through tears. "I was drunk but I thought I was okay to drive. You don't know what it's like. The guilt. The pain of knowing I can never undo what I have done."
Officer Dave looked around. Droplets of sweat ran down his nose and dripped onto his shirt, and he snorted. "Shut it. That is really bumming me out. I'm in a really good mood, and you're just like--I don't know--hey, do you like gambling?"
"I guess," said Perry.
"I have two hundred dollars in my wallet. I will give you that money and jump off this bridge right fucking now if you promise to give it another 24 hours to really think about things. Priorities and whatnot. I don't know."
The man stepped back. "Wait, what? That doesn't even make--"
Officer Dave's mouth twitched and he looked up to the sky. "I'm trying to branch out, you know? Trying new things. My wife got me to try yoga. It was awful. It's all awful," he sighed. "I am on a *lot* of amphetamines right now. So I will jump off this bridge and give you the money if you can answer one trivia question. If you can't, I'll just go back to my car and pray that you change your mind."
"I can't be responsible for another death."
"I'm going to jump if you don't answer my question," Officer Dave laughed.
"But...like...what? What is the question?" asked Perry. He squirmed and trembled more.
"My wife and I had an argument today about who Patrick Stewart is. She said he is the guy from some Star Trek show or something stupid like that," Officer Dave laughed. His face twitched.
"Who do you think he is?"
"I don't think he is a real person. She made it all up."
"Okay," said Perry. "She is right."
"Fuck."
^edited ^for ^a ^typo | 2014-07-04T22:08:36 | 2014-07-04T21:53:12 | 605 | 17 |
[WP] A dying child challenges the reaper to a 1v1 quick scope only call of duty match for his life. | "You can't be serious?" replies the Death. The young boy smiles with confidence and replies "you said any game I wanted, did you think I would choose chess?!" Death pauses a moment and with a causal flick of his pale, ancient hand, produces an XBone and two massive flat screen tvs. "One match, 3 minutes, quick scope only. Just as you requested."
What followed was maybe the most lopsided CoD match in history. The loser couldn't take two steps after spawning without being quick scoped. The player in the lead would occasionally cackle as his opponent uttered profanities under his breath after each kill. The match ends. Death calmly set the controller down and waits. The boy breaks the silence "send me back home, faggot".
Fin | The year is 2010.
The child in question is in a coma. Dreaming of Mt. Dew and doritos when suddenly the grim reaper spawns in front of him.
The grim reaper looks down to the child.
"So.... xX420weedblazer2002Xx, are you ready for the match of your life?!"
"Yes, m8." He responds profoundly.
They get down to business. The grim readers spawns him and himself in the middle of nowhere. A strange but familiar structure is beside them.
"Rust, huh?... " the kid says, as the grim reaper spawns him a Intervention.
The grim reaper nods.
Both of them stand in the opposite side of the map as the familiar orchestra music begins, and the countdown begins ticking.
"Let's do this." The narrator says.
The kid zooms in and immediately gets a headshot. The grim reaper starts shouting.
This kid was something special I tell you. The grim reaper never stood a chance. His weed blazing skills along with his pro mountain dew drinking and doritos gave him the power to destroy the grim reaper.
As he nears the 30th kill, he jumps off the highest point of the map and gets the sickest trickshot he has ever pulled. The game ends.
30-7. The score marker says.
The grim reaper approaches the kid.
"You have proved yourself worthy to live and drink more mountain dew. You may wake up now. The only condition is in 2014 you must make a account on this website named Reddit, and you will name it RedditSilver. From there you must spread the love of [Reddit silver.](http://i.imgur.com/sy9lVl4.jpg)"
And he did.
*The End* | 2014-09-15T20:18:47 | 2014-09-15T20:15:28 | 731 | 144 |
[WP] You have the gift of fantastic luck, and the curse of horrible timing. In three paragraphs or less, give me a glimpse of your life. | I exited my house, only to hear the loud bang of a gun before my vision faded to darkness.
Upon waking up in the hospital, the doctors had explained that I walked out of my house at the worst of timings; a man was mugging my neighbor in front of my door for whatever reason. 'Was I shot?' I had asked, only now noticing the slight slur to my voice.
'Yes, you were shot.' The doctor had replied. In the head apparently. Before I could question how I was alive, the same doctor explained that despite the shot being at point blank range, the bullet miraculously and unrealistically skimmed my skull, ricocheted off of a dent from an accident in my childhood, and killed the mugger. How convenient. | It was my final exam, one more exam and I'm home free. One more exam and this school is completely behind me. Just three, more hours. You see, I hate going to school. Mainly because ever since birth, I've had miraculous luck, but it strikes at the worst times. For example, last week I found the winning lottery ticket for the one million jackpot... for the previous month. And going by the ruling, I couldn't claim the prize since I was a week or so off the cut off date.
And since I began school, I've been granted honors, school prefect and many more prestigious titles even though I screw up at the try outs... mainly because I always show up late. But, I digress, just need to get through these next three hours. To make sure, I didn't turn up to this late, I came an hour early. I've taken my seat at the front of the room and now kids are beginning to pour in. I can see my friend Steve taking his seat at the back of the room and - *Oh my gosh, the popular girl Erin is sitting next to me*
I freeze up. What is this? Why is she sitting next to me? As the exam begins I find it difficult to concentrate because Erin is arms length away. I turn to look at her, and sure enough, she's got a small piece of paper in her hand. She's gesturing me to take it. Swapping notes in exam conditions? That's... that's illegal here! We could be thrown out or worse, fail the entire subject! But that's not stopping her, she threw it over. As I slowly opened it and looked at what it read, I heard the booming voice of the supervise behind me.
**"SO? YOU GOING TO SAY YES TO HER!?"**
Fuck my life. | 2014-12-12T06:23:04 | 2014-12-12T05:53:36 | 74 | 27 |
[WP] You have the gift of fantastic luck, and the curse of horrible timing. In three paragraphs or less, give me a glimpse of your life. | "We did it, Babe. We found the cure. We've worked so long for this, and it's here at last. Kim says approval will still be a haul, but the FDA has a new process in place to fast-track therapies that look particularly promising, and he's pretty sure we qualify."
He reached his hand out, tracing the letters on the stone again.
"We found it, Babe. Just like I prom..." the last word lost in his tears. | I crouched behind the huge ventilation duct as my heart pounded. The footsteps of the cops moved slowly closer to my position. They shout warnings to me, my rights, just to come out. I don't listen. I've heard this a thousand times and it's starting to get a little old. Closing my eyes, I sprint for the edge of the roof. As the bullets ricochet around me, I throw myself off the building.
Maybe it's time for a little explanation. I've always been gifted with the most incredible luck. Like being randomly gifted ten thousand dollars due to a fuckup in the computer systems of a bank. Like being the only one not to get shot in the great store heist. Like being the only person to cancel their plane flight at the last minute directly before the crash. That shit gets people looking at you, and in my case, they concluded I'm some criminal mastermind. Unfair as all hell of course, but how am I supposed to defend myself?
I reach out and brush a windowsill to spin myself so I face the sky. A quick kick and I'm moving out towards the road. A sickening thump rings out as I feel the breath being driven out of me. Truck bed full of mattresses? Always something. I clutch the bag of banknotes to my chest and check my gun is safe in my waistband. I wasn't a criminal mastermind, but I'll always be indebted to the FBI for pointing out how excellent I'd be at it.
| 2014-12-12T09:46:47 | 2014-12-12T08:16:44 | 46 | 22 |
[WP] Write a soldier's journal entry on his first day at war. Then write his last journal entry. | Day One:
It’s nerve wracking being part of the military. The officers are terrifying. Orders are rapidly given to us. The officers know what they’re doing; they have been in many wars before, so I trust them. I’m scared because they are sending out everyone they can get as soon as possible. I have been training for this moment, but I can’t but feel nervous. I know I have to fight. If I don’t, then what will happen to Mom, Dad, and Julie? I have to be strong for them. I won’t let them face these horrors. I will become the best soldier. I will come home and make them proud of me.
Day Two:
I go into battle today. This is my chance. | June 24th, 1916.
Well, this is a grand old mess, if ever I did see one. We came in on foot and from the back of the lines one may stare down the miles of ruin bought on by this war. The sight was a distinct kind of terrible, yet at the same time I found myself in a simple trance at the tragic beauty associated with such destruction. And by God, the mud. Tonnes of the stuff, gets in your boots, in your hair, in your rifle and your eyes, and as much as you clean it off you wind up knee deep in the stuff with the next step you take anyway! The boys we've moved up to replace have set our lines abuzz with rumours, apparently the section leader told one of the old hands that an attack would come soon. Now we wait, I guess. I do wish our guns would stop causing all of that racket though, I've scarcely slept since I got off the boat.
Thomas Wallace, the muddy fields of France.
1st July, 1916.
It's been a while since I last put my old pen onto the page, but I find it hard with all of the din going on about us. Both our artillery and the German guns pound the landscape as though it was a lump of meat. Poor Robert was hit yesterday, shrapnel through the guts. They dragged him off to the aid station, but he won't be back in time for the attack. Section Leader has ordered us all to fix bayonets, we'll be going over the top soon. With all of the artillery we've already lobbed at the Huns I'll be surprised if any of them are even left. Regardless of resistance I'm sure our men can overwhelm them nothing to it really. If anything should happen to me, I hope this diary reaches home.
Thomas Wallace, the muddy fields of France near the town of Albert.
| 2015-03-11T20:19:00 | 2015-03-11T18:20:08 | 52 | 10 |
[WP] 70 years ago, the US underestimated the power of the atomic bomb. It had completely obliterated the island nation of Japan. | August 6. Roosevelt had said that December 7 would be a day to live in infamy, and for four years he was right. But August 6, August 6 *became* infamy. For on that day, the Four Horsemen rode upon the nation of Japan, and brought with them the divine wrath of every deity to whom man had once prayed. Within a single flash of brilliant light, the world had changed forever. The war was over, yet there were no celebrations. A silence descended upon the globe, with all the countries of the world in awe, or fear, of this new weapon.
*A hundred million,* the papers cried. The war in Europe killed half that, at most. Many of them soldiers. Japan may have been militarised, yet within her isles the majority are - were, rather - civilians. The Americans had another, too. But there was no need, Kokura was eliminated by the first. Along with Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Seoul. The fallout reached Shanghai. Civilians there are falling ill and dying in the streets from the effects. Providence had determined that America obtained a weapon greater even than He, with which they delivered more death in a single day than even the great Genghis Khan had seen in his lifetime.
For all the Nazis had done, their crimes paled in comparison to that of the victor. Calls rose for President Truman to be charged with crimes against humanity. Yet no-one dared act, lest the wrath of God descend upon them. *Be grateful it wasn't Berlin,* leaders said, *for if it was, London would be dead.* | Excerpt from an interview with retired Major General Robert Truscott, USMC, 1976.
ROBERT: You can’t kill the wind. That was the first thing I thought. Because, the only thing you could hear, or feel, was a heavy wind. It reminded me of what they have out on the plains, in Minnesota. It was this constant force, this one living aspect of the island.
INTERVIEWER: There was nothing else?
ROBERT: No, nothing. We looked for days and days; moving east-west up the island from Kyushu or whatever it was they used to call it. Never found a thing. Just dust.
INTERVIEWER: Interesting, because based on modern studies there were a reported seventy-one milli-
*Robert raises his hand.*
ROBERT: I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know what was in all that dust. In my nightmares, I go back there. In the dust fields. Except, I’m alone. My buddies are gone. I spend days searching for them, digging through the dust, looking through the few husks of pillboxes before I go mad and dig myself back into the Earth.
INTERVIEWER: The experience has left an impact, you’re saying.
ROBERT: (*At this point weary with the topic*) Yeah, you could say that.
*He coughs violently.*
ROBERT: *(In a hoarse mutter)* Dust.
The interviewer looks sympathetic, but moves on.
INTERVIEWER: Why don’t you tell us about the background of your expedition?
ROBERT: Sure. As we all know, the bomb was dropped in August, and that’s when the signals went out. The Enola Gay never returned home; presumed lost in the blast. Truman waited for envoys for surrender. They never came. In fact, no ships, planes, people, or letter had been seen on the island for months. Eisenhower came up with a -
*(Robert begins to cough again, before resuming)*
- plan for my expedition. Called it Operation Voyeur. Sent a division to land, in secret, across the island to perform recon and present terms of surrender to the Japanese.
And that’s when we found out. The islands were gone, replaced with the dust and rock that sits there today. At first we thought, “Japs are crafty, they’re all held up underground!” But we found nothing. No holes, no traps, no basements. The island was a ghost, and it still haunts me.
INTERVIEWER: Thank you for your time, Major General. Now, would you like to comment on the increasing tensions between the United States and the Trans-Russian Empire over the Canadian territories?
END TRANSCRIPT | 2015-08-06T16:56:53 | 2015-08-06T13:25:27 | 26 | 14 |
[WP] The end of times has come. Heaven, hell, and earth are thrown in a three-way war. It's a little unfair how advanced Earth is, though. | "Listen," began the Archangel Michael, "I'm sure we can work through this. It's all just been a big misunderstanding." He tittered shrilly, the laugh unbidden. His veneer of calmness was stretched thin over nervous worry. He took a step backwards toward the rest of the angelic host, away from the array of cannons pointed at him. Behind him, the beautiful, androgynous beings all exchanged unsure glances and shuffled uncomfortably, their metal armor clanking. To his left, the demons glared between the two of them, unsure of who to point their pikes at.
"No deal," sneered General Hermann. The crowd behind him cheered heartily, and photographers snapped inspiring pictures of him sitting in his tank. He'd become something of a world icon, leading the charge against both Heaven and Hell alike, as the representative of humanity's might. For him though, it was something more personal - he was a nihilist, and as a result extremely ticked off that he'd been proven wrong. As the media was focused on him, he figured he would give them something to remember him by. He calmly lit a cigar before pointing dramatically at the supernatural invaders. "God or not, we're not going to be bossed around by somebody else now, after being alone for so long! Get out, and clear some space for us in the afterlife!" He felt rather proud of that line given its impromptu nature, though it would go down in history as somewhat lackluster.
Baal turned to the angels, a huge grin on his face. "Ha! Suck it! Humans and demons forev-"
His gloating was cut short by the electric crack of laser fire, separating his head from his shoulders. He stared, bewildered, up at his still-standing body. Hermann nodded approvingly at the soldier who took the initiative. The soldier saluted in return, smiling earnestly.
Michael hoped that no one heard him shriek when Baal was shot, though he knew better. He turned to the humans. "Okay! Okay! You... you asked for it, because I mean honestly, *how are we supposed to compete with that?*" His voice cracked, and he had to take a few moments to compose himself. He cleared his throat.
"I really didn't want to have to do this, but now you've taken it to the top. *All* the way to the top, I mean! You're going to hear it now, and you'll be sorry!" He spun around and gestured to the angels, and they all began to ululate. The cacophony of piercing wails began to crescendo, and then dropped off abruptly. Hermann grabbed a phone from inside his tank and spoke a few terse words into it.
Just then, the clouds split, and a beam of sunlight shone down onto the plains. A gigantic hand reached down from the sky, as a resounding voice spoke and shook the land.
**"Guys, I told you to call me only if it's serious, what is it- "**
Before he could get the words out, there was a muffled *BOOM* in the distance and a trail of fire traced from the ground up to the hand. The hand recoiled at the explosion on contact.
**"OW FUCK GOD DAMMIT WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FUCK THIS"**
And just like that, the hand retracted and disappeared. Michael stared, agape, first at where the hand once was, and then back to Hermann. The shockwave from whatever it was reached them, and the wind picked up and the trees bowed slightly. Hermann simply grinned: a cocky, lopsided thing.
"Heh, railguns." | For ages we have been watching the cosmos. What is out there. WE looked through our telescopes, we sent out our drones and eventually we had manned expeditions. Each step we had the information that there was nothing out there. That our Earth was an anomaly but we persisted and we failed.
But our disappointment did not last for long.
Time travel has always been a popular subject especially for the young, hopeful minds who were going to use it to make a quick fortune. So quick they'd have the account in their name even before they were born. It was during this rush to solve The Equation first and be the next superpower of the world when It was discovered.
Alternate dimensions. Different realities. That which may be, that which could be. At first like the space initiatives we could only look into them but eventually we could send probes through. The readings were strange at first if we could get them back at all. For the two realities directly by our own it was either too hot or too cold. Nothing which could support life.
Or so we thought until we were sent something back from The Cold as we called it. A simple message, surprisingly, in our language. Every language on Earth. Even those extinct from long ago. Sentence on sentence which only said one thing. "Stop! Before it is too late!"
Unfortunately in comparison we were still a young race and we wanted to prove ourselves to these new beings so we continued. We should have known that something was up with the increase of religious nuts taking to the streets, television, the internet. Anything which can reach people really. As a civilization of science we thought nothing of it. Just people collectively expressing their insecurities as they have in the past before education stamped it out.
Boy were we wrong.
Our attempts to make the dimensional breaches became too effective and we ended up with two extremely large portals. One in the prep station for The Cold at the North Pole and another which after burning up the station at the Sahara Desert became a ever burning lake of fire. We didn't even have a day to study this new phenomenon. The legions were out as if they were already ready.
Thankfully having the stations at sites too extreme for human habitation meant that the legions would be unable to cause any damage to the civilians besides the possessions. Our study after the war concluded the breaches somehow sent out waves to take control of the minds of those unnaturally susceptible to it like the increasing religious. Some attacked civilians indiscriminately while others for some reason only known to them decided to attack those aggressors.
A pretty good tactic to weaken our defenses but fortunately those working on the breaches were organized enough to be diverted to fixing up a defense against it. At the same time the militaries of the world were trying to hold the physical legions back. At first they were caught off guard. Bright searing lights which would disintegrate a man. Streams of fire which would take out a platoon. The worst part of all were that these attacks could have come from anywhere.
Until General Blight, God bless his soul pointed out that the enemy forces only had what? Wings? Swords? Tridents? Claws? Sure they were horrifying to look at but they were primitive. Those that couldn't rely on wings had to move around by horses. Perhaps if this assault had happened a century or two ago it would have been effective but our civilization had advanced and gone past such things.
Not to mention, one of those monsters being riddled with bullets was effective enough to stop them.
Unfortunately it seemed like their forces were endless and we were locked into fighting on both fronts for months. It was taking a toll on our troops until, they just stopped coming out from the breach and there were no new reports of random attacks by civilians. We waited for another month or so before trying to get into the breach ourselves but with no success. The conditions were still too extreme for anyone to survive in them.
On the bright side though, we were able to find out that the quality of life for everyone is a lot more better now that we no longer have to put our attention to the fighting. Whether because of the breaches or the eradication of these aliens it looks like people are living a lot longer now. Aside from the casualties from the war, there have been no more reported deaths from anyone. Even teh sick and elderly.
It also seems like the war has put humanity into perspective as less people are looking to the usual distractions. Wasteful habits we label as vices and time consumers like organized religion. A good thing to be sure. With the study into alternate dimensions currently put on hold in case we actually face a force we wouldn't be able to hold out against until we are able to manufacture better defences the increased enlightened workforce is needed to look into the changes brought by these dimensional breaches. | 2015-09-24T10:04:13 | 2015-09-24T09:30:02 | 69 | 12 |
[WP] "She said she loved him." Insert the word "only" anywhere in this sentence. It must be the final sentence of your story. | They were... Seventeen when it had happened.
They matched over Tinder. He thought she was cute, she thought he was handsome. They got along well enough. He asked for her number. They talked more. He asked her out. She said yes.
They met for dinner, and they talked.
Talking was an understatement.
They connected. They understood each other. They clicked.
They told each other stories and watched videos of each other on their phones. He told her jokes and used his cheesy pickup lines.
And she laughed.
What a wonderful laugh.
He looked at her, and she looked at him and they clasped hands together as if they'd done it a hundred times before. He drove her home. They watched a movie. They kissed.
They kissed.
She'd call him for help with her History homework. He'd text her asking how to be a good Journalist. She'd ask him how he was holding up. He'd ask how her day went. She'd tell him to go outside and look at the stars, he'd tell her he could see Orion and Sagittarius. She'd tell him good morning and have a good day, he'd tell her to have a goodnight and sleep well.
They clasped hands, and this time hey had done it a hundred times before.
High school ended.
College began.
They said distance made the heart grow fonder.
They lied.
They fought. So much love between them, bringing them back together and begging to put their inhibitions aside. But they were prideful ones. Neither willing to admit, or accept fault.
And then, there was no more 'and then'. There was no more they. Just him, and her.
But, while their story may be over, they do indulge in re-reading it's pages now and again. Be it seeing an old picture, or an old friend's mention.
They both smile, because they knew for sure that once, many years ago...
He said he only loved her.
She said she only loved him. | "You know, there is this girl in the town who has long blonde hair and walks kind of funny." said Paul. "But I love the way she walks."
"But you always get rejected by girls, don't you?" asked John.
"This time, I will succeed."
-----
A few hours later Paul was walking around the college. As soon as he noticed her, he gathered up his courage and went next to her.
"Umm, hello! I'm Paul, what's your name?"
"..."
"My name is Paul, what's yours?"
She was looking as if she wanted to answer but she couldn't. She moved her hands quickly waiting for a reaction.
"Oh, she must be deaf and mute." Paul mumbled. He tried to remember if any of his friends knew the sign language. He already had fallen for her.
Meanwhile, the girl had written "I'm Lucy. I can't speak but I can hear." and her phone number on a paper.
-----
Later that week, Paul and Lucy were very close friends. Even if Lucy couldn't talk, they managed to communicate by text messages.
Lucy had lost the ability to speak after being attacked by a dog at the age of 4. Since that day she had recieved speech therapy but it was no use.
"I want to be able to speak again. Even if it is once, before I die."
"I'm sure you will, just don't lose your spirit."
"As long as you are with me, I will never lose it!"
-----
3 months later, they already had gotten engaged.
"Paul, I have been diagnosed with breast cancer. It's not that I will die or something. Won't lose my spirit!"
...
"Her situation is not getting any better. She must be lying to you to make you feel better but be prepared for the worst."
It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. He just needed to wake up.
-----
"You may talk to your girlfriend, but don't overdo it."
He didn't know if it was the drugs or the cancer. She was sometimes staring blankly at the wall as if she literally lost her spirit.
"I know you are suffering a lot, being treated for 5 months... I wish we had more time together. Now you will leave this world without fulfilling your dream. If only I could hear your voice. Even if it was a sentence. All I want you to know is that I will always love only you..."
All of a sudden, her heartbeats started to destabilize. Her heart was losing its rhythmic pace.
"Doctor, DOCTOR!" Paul rushed towards the door to call the doctor.
"I... love... you... too......" said a gentle and kind voice seconds before the continous beep of the monitor. It was the voice of an angel. I was the sound of heaven itself...
She only said she loved him.
---
First time, english not main language, zero experience blah blah blah also very bad story but I just wanted to try
Just criticize all you like.
edit: corrected John to Paul :V
edit: angle -> angel lol | 2016-01-10T20:49:52 | 2016-01-10T18:48:20 | 442 | 224 |
[WP] "She said she loved him." Insert the word "only" anywhere in this sentence. It must be the final sentence of your story. | They were... Seventeen when it had happened.
They matched over Tinder. He thought she was cute, she thought he was handsome. They got along well enough. He asked for her number. They talked more. He asked her out. She said yes.
They met for dinner, and they talked.
Talking was an understatement.
They connected. They understood each other. They clicked.
They told each other stories and watched videos of each other on their phones. He told her jokes and used his cheesy pickup lines.
And she laughed.
What a wonderful laugh.
He looked at her, and she looked at him and they clasped hands together as if they'd done it a hundred times before. He drove her home. They watched a movie. They kissed.
They kissed.
She'd call him for help with her History homework. He'd text her asking how to be a good Journalist. She'd ask him how he was holding up. He'd ask how her day went. She'd tell him to go outside and look at the stars, he'd tell her he could see Orion and Sagittarius. She'd tell him good morning and have a good day, he'd tell her to have a goodnight and sleep well.
They clasped hands, and this time hey had done it a hundred times before.
High school ended.
College began.
They said distance made the heart grow fonder.
They lied.
They fought. So much love between them, bringing them back together and begging to put their inhibitions aside. But they were prideful ones. Neither willing to admit, or accept fault.
And then, there was no more 'and then'. There was no more they. Just him, and her.
But, while their story may be over, they do indulge in re-reading it's pages now and again. Be it seeing an old picture, or an old friend's mention.
They both smile, because they knew for sure that once, many years ago...
He said he only loved her.
She said she only loved him. | Her hands trembled as she opened the envelope. She had known it was coming, but things had been so strained between them for the past few months that she didn't know if she even wanted to see its contents.
Her feelings for him had always been deep, but she didn't know if they were worth it anymore. They had started off strong, but there were so many hiccups in their relationship-so many things that she wanted to say but hadn't, so many things she had wanted to hear from him but didn't- she was starting to lose hope. He would always have a hold on her, more so than anyone else she had ever been involved with; if he ever needed it, she'd give him the very heart that kept her alive. However, his stoicism, his mystery, his refusal to let his feelings flow openly, it all made her feel such a desperate fool. She did not go one single minute without pining for him, but she feared he thought about her not more than for a fleeting moment once in a blue moon.
So, in an effort to regain some semblance of stability in her life, she thought she would try and distance herself from him. Emotionally disengage. He may have been destined to always have a hold over her soul, but she could, at the very least, try and free her mind from him. She told herself that everything she felt, everything she wished for, the beautiful, fantastical scenarios about *them* that played out in her head in the early mornings when the world was still and she was alone with her mind- all of that was done. She would focus on the here, the now. What was important. Herself. Not him.
And here it was. That long awaited, yet dreaded, letter with his ostensibly innocuous return address in the top left corner sat on her desk. She took a deep breath and with ice-cold, shaking fingers, ripped it open. She tilted it onto her desk and a small square of paper fell out. As she read the note, her breathing quickened and her face got hot. Tears began to stream uncontrollably down her cheeks, leaving damp riverbeds of the kohl they took from her eyes. There was no more disengaging. There was no more mental decoupling. There was only them, and her belief in them. He was her everything.
She picked up the phone and dialed his number. There were so many things she wanted to say, so many apologies for her coldness, for her doubt. So many confessions of her fear of his lack of reciprocity. He answered her call, but when she heard his voice on the other end of the line, her mind went blank. She could no longer translate her thoughts into words. The exposition she had prepared in her mind was gone. He said hello again, his voice clearly wondering if it was a wrong number, contemplating whether to put the phone down.
She drew a ragged breath. She only said she loved him.
| 2016-01-10T20:49:52 | 2016-01-10T19:07:47 | 442 | 46 |
[WP] Scientists are now able to recreate a person's last sentence before they died, leading to thousands of solved murder cases. However, one victim's last words leave detectives baffled. | TOP SECRET
DAY 78 of investigations using new FWD (Final Word Discovery) programs.
Today we have encountered 3 more deceased persons whose final words were simply "Neil Diamond."
We hope to develop the technology further, as the meaning of these words is extremely unclear without any indication of tone. The 46 "Neil Diamond" cases are extremely abnormal. This will not be made public until we are able to analyse it further.
For now, we can continue to assume that Mr. Diamond has no direct involvement in these deaths, but as the numbers rise his involvement seems increasingly likely. Will address this on day 80.
| All was quiet at 6am in the station. I was the only one there. I stayed here eagerly waiting on Johnson to return. Johnson had gone to Chicago to retrieve the results of the test.
The test was in it's early stages, with a few minor glitches with the system in forms of grammar and spelling.
But today it was finally ready for it's first test.
The public has always been curious about exactly how Michael Jackson had died. So today, with permission from the family, we would finally find out.
Johnson bust through the door at 6:15 sharp just as we planned. "Damian! Damian Damian! It's here it's right here!" he exclaimed as he passed the front desk. I stood up and darted towards him, "What? What does it say Johnson?"
"His whole image in his later life... It's all..."
"Spit it out, damnit!"
"He was faking it! He wasn't an avid drug addict!"
"What? How on Earth did he die then?"
Johnson pulled out the documentation. He slowly unfolded it and turned the paper towards me.
"I knew it would come to this, you sick, psychotic man... Well of course I tried to tell them you were "Bad" but they could not take the hint... So this is it then? Just a needle in my arm and I'm dead... I'll just be another washed up celebrity that got too into their recreation... Well they will find out you did it Georgie... Yeah they always find a way."
The page ends. I flip it over to the back.
"You know I was always an Al Gore fan. I wish you luck when they find out that you did 9/11 Bush!"
The page ends there. | 2016-02-07T20:51:01 | 2016-02-07T17:28:21 | 31 | 20 |
[WP] Everyone has a number on their chest showing how many people they will kill in the next month. Yours just changed from 1 to 3 million. | The first thing I did was count them. One, two, three... six. Six zeros. Each one stamped proudly across my chest, starting with a three. Three million? How could this happen?
The number was just a one last night, I remembered seeing it right before bed. It had been that way for two weeks. Even though the number says you killed them, it is more often than not an indirect kill. Cutting someone off in traffic and forcing them to careen off the road, for example. That, and given the job I have, I honestly wasn't too surprised or worried. But now... this changes things.
I slip into the bedroom and change into my suit for work. My wife, bless her heart, is in bed reading. Work had been piling up more than ever, even with the end almost in sight, so it relieved me to see her looking even remotely comfortable. Her hair, originally pure black, had recently started to grey in the roots. I tried not to pick on her for it. I had no room to talk, anyway.
I tried to pretend like everything was normal, but one glance at me and she could tell something was wrong.
"Honey, what's wrong? You look upset. Did I use up all the hot water again?"
For a moment, I imagined telling her. But I stopped myself. There's no point in making her worry; nobody has ever had their mark be incorrect. Ever. Any time in the next three months, three million people would die. And it would be my fault.
"It's nothing, just work," I say simply. She gave me an understanding nod and went back to her book. That was one nice thing about this job: it got her off my case almost every time.
I checked my knot in the mirror and tried to convince myself that nobody could see the three million stamped on my chest underneath my suit. To me, it felt like the numbers were glowing. I left the bedroom and right away, my work day began.
"Morning, Mr. President," said one of my Secret Service agents stationed outside the door. I gave him a curt nod, and he followed me on my way. | The President must die.
His policies are too divisive, too extreme. Sure, he was just voted into office in a landslide a few months ago, but I can see what the general populace refuses to see. And I alone have the power to stop him, stop him with one click of my mouse.
I spent months trying to get close to him and his campaign, months of ground work and socializing and butt kissing. But finally the call came- I had been hired to cater his inaugural dinner.
After that, the plan was a breeze. I knew exactly which plate was his, since he was the only lactose intolerant vegetarian with a nut allergy at the party. I injected his food with the latest in nanobot technology, finished up the rest of the catering gig, and whistled as I walked home.
Now all I had to do was move my cursor over the "Execute" button, click the mouse, and let the killer nanobots finish my dirty work. I smiled, pushed my finger downward, and heard the satisfying CLICK.
...After that, silence. I don't know what I was expecting. The nanobots would take a few minutes to do their dirty work, and even then there isn't much noise associated with a single man dying across town, even if he is the leader of the free world.
Now that my months of planning had come to fruition, what should I do now? Maybe I'd take a shower, put on my pajamas, and enjoy the news of President Thompson's demise on the news before going to sleep.
Before hopping in the shower, I looked at the mirror and jumped back in shock. The number on my chest, the number that had been a bold "1" for the past month, now spread from pectoral to pectoral and read "3,094,296."
What had I done?
-----
Little did I know that across town, the President was dealing with the most tense situation that any President had faced in a generation. He had been alerted that one of our enemies had launched a nuke. President Thompson, displaying his typical calm demeanor, insisted that they make every single confirmation possible before retaliating.
However, he was also pragmatic, and decided to begin the nuclear retaliation protocol. He could reverse course at any time, but getting the codes and The Button set up took a little time. Finally, it was all set up, with only a clear plastic box and a red button separating him from unleashing a nuclear weapon on the enemy's largest city.
"What's the chance that this attack is real, Reynolds?" he asked his right hand man.
"99% sir, but we're getting the final data now."
The President sighed and lifted the thin plastic cover that protected The Button. Once the attack was 100% confirmed, he would have to act quickly, on the off chance the incoming missile took out any key retaliatory equipment.
He heard chatter on Reynolds phone, then saw his confidant's body relax. "It was a false alarm, sir. A computer glitch. There is no imminent threat to the country."
President Thompson exhaled in relief, and then dropped dead. His limp body collapsed onto the table and pressed The Button. | 2016-06-24T03:35:52 | 2016-06-24T03:18:51 | 461 | 62 |
[WP] You live in a world where love and relationships have a "credit score". If you're a good SO it makes it higher, if you cheated on someone it's plummets. You just went on a date with someone and you're convinced they're perfect. You look up their score that night and it's -500 and tells you why.
EDIT: I hadn't been able to really check Reddit since I posted this, but WOW thank you all so much for enjoying this!!! I will definitely be getting around to reading all of these awesome stories! You guys rock! | I sat with my boyfriend, Damian, and talked to him about life, movies, jobs, *anything.*
Damian was so charming, I didn't even know his score, but I knew it's gonna be up there! He was just so....Perfect.
"Hold on, babe. I gotta go to the bathroom." He said. "Okay, I'll wait here." I replied while awkwardly twirling my spaghetti slowly with my fork.
I noticed his food was all gone. *Damn! He's a fast eater!*
As he walked away, I whipped out my phone to check his credit score. It said...-500? That can't be! I checked the reviews.
"*That asshole walked away from lunch and didn't pay*"
"*He was charming, but just dates girls for food!*"
"*That fucker ate an ENTIRE box of my fucking twinkies.*"
I stared at the reviews, then looked to my left, and saw Damian exiting the restaurant.
Fuck. | It had been a lovely date with that woman. Her eyes were that of the shimmering sea, her laughter was horrifically angelic and her hair was frizzled. Ironically, it made him feel electrocuted.
He was just leaping over fences and gates after his date waved him goodbye. Strangely, there was something about that woman who made him feel intrigued by her state. He was a seasoned individual who knew exactly how to make others believe what he wanted.
It was for the greater good, after all.
He was always the man with the gun. The man who hunted others for his own personal gain. Inside, he did not desire to do that but he knew that he had to. It was either them, or his family.
And god, did he not want his family tortured to death.
Of course, he had managed to steal that ever-so-intriguing card that conveyed the score. "The Death Score" he called it. Who would be so melancholic to look up their score when you can steal it instead? A metallic chuckle was emitted from his body of flesh.
He gazed at the card with a curious glance. That urge of urgency was making him very, very curious. With a microscopic grin, he opened the card and looked.
He froze.
"Negative Five Hundred?" His bated breath had finally managed to surface from his throat. His eyes blinked with disbelief at such a preposterous score. He stopped running, leaping or emitting any noise at all.
He felt dumbstruck. He felt as if the woman struck him with a strike that blasted his world into smithereens. He looked into a corner and then hid for his life.
It was said that when those individuals that scored as low as that score, they were dead. They were supposed to be deader than the dead corpses underneath his house. Deader than the skeletons he buried after hiding them in the closet.
Suddenly, he heard laughter.
He turned around as the blade descended onto him. The last thing he knew, the smile of somebody he thought he knew.
| 2016-09-24T11:36:00 | 2016-09-24T11:35:10 | 251 | 13 |
[WP] Aliens give you a camera and say "only those you photograph will live." You have one year.
All of these responses are so diverse! This was really a great read. I like to imagine that all these different stories are from alternative universes, playing out different roles. Some men rule the World, some men are titled lunatics, and some men are not noticed at all. Well done, everyone! | I expected everyone would think I was crazy, but I had to try.
I was shocked when my phone call went through to Charles Bolden, the head of NASA. I was shocked when he didn't interrupt me. He just asked me to tell him what happened. I told him. I told him about the aliens, where they found me, what their ship was like, what they'd told me, what I now had to do.
"And... I don't... I don't know know what the rules are. I don't know how it works," I stammered, "but I thought... just maybe this is our best chance."
And then Mr. Bolden said, "Well, you made a good guess, son. And, best we can figure, you're right. It does work that way."
"It... it does? You know?"
"It does. That, or the aliens are just trolling us. Either way, they've been at this for a long time."
"Really? How long?"
"Since the 60's? Maybe longer. Seems they started with us and with Russia. Anyway, You've just been accepted as an astronaut. Get your affairs in order. We'll send someone out to pick you up in a week. I'm sure you'll take some fantastic pictures of Earth while you're up there." | Today is it. The last day before everyone not photographed dies. I prepare for what's to come. It took me a year and a great fortune to go around the world. I did my best to capture everyone who was a good person and deserved to live. I know it will haunt me, deciding who lives and dies but this is for the betterment of mankind. I made sure to get everyone that had skills that were important to our survival but they had to pass the test. It was intensive but I did it. If it wasn't for the help I had, I wouldnt have done it, sure I had to lie about things to get help and money but I'll live with that on my conscious. I only hope that this is the right choice. What will those people suffer? Will they feel pain? I can't imagine the thought of me causing that pain. Wait...there it is, a flashing in the sky. Bright colors I can barley decribe, it's beautiful but there is a sadness in what's to come. There is a great sound and then silence...
Five years later
Entry #316
I fear this may be my last entry. I'm tired of writing for nothing. It's all gone downhill. I would have never imagined this was going to happen and I caused it. It all went like a flash, like that "Glourious" day. Mankind spiraled into destruction. It took 2 years but when it did there was no stopping it. We all did well at first with all the terrible people gone. It was like paradise but little by little mankind once again repeated history. Wars, famine, death it all came by slowly and even worse than before. In these final moments I remembered a verse from the Bible i used to read as a kid and I remembered the words it said and now it made sense to me. "Genesis 6:5 Jehovah saw that man's wickedness was great on the earth and that every inclination of his heart was bad all the time" I now know that mankind will not be peaceful ever. Even after a restart we messed it up. Maybe this is for the best. We don't deserve to live, I think I'm just going to sit and wait for our inevitable end. I look at the stupid camera and set it next to me. I think I'm going to sit next to this tree and watch the world burn slowly. Once again I think I'll enjoy this silence for the last time.
| 2017-01-27T15:36:30 | 2017-01-27T14:29:51 | 26 | 11 |
[WP] When you die, your ghost remains in the world until the last person who remembers you also dies. 15,000 years after your death, you are still here. | 15,000 years. 15,000 mid-numbing years of waiting. It was exciting to Adam at first at first, the knowledge that life didn't just end with death, that he got to stick around and observe humanity. It suited him well, he'd always been a quiet fellow, and since he was just a ghost, no one gave him a hard time for being a wallflower anymore. He could just sit and people-watch and enjoy himself, and that's exactly what he did for a while.
The first 10 years were the best of his life or afterlife. No responsibilities, no bills, no obligations, no attachments, just traveling around the world and observing to his heart's content. All of his hobbies, bird-watching, fine art, reading rare books, he now actually had time to do. He saw sunrise on the rim of the Grand Canyon more times than he could count. He took afternoon siestas atop the Eiffel Tower whenever he wanted. It was exhilarating and it was perfect.
The next 90 years calmed down a bit, but were still wonderful. He got into a nice routine, checking in on people he knew, seeing and learning new things. It was all he ever wanted in life, just without the living part. He saw people come and go, first from life to ghosts like him, and then some time later from ghost to the great beyond. He felt pity for those poor souls who just got a few years of afterlife and then were forgotten.
The next 900 years were solid. 900 years of observing human progress, and he got to see all of it. At some point he started to wonder who exactly was still remembering him, but he wasn't exactly complaining. He saw new forms of art, music, writing. He accompanied the third Martian expedition and got to see a whole new planet! By the end of the millennium Adam reckoned he'd seen more of what humanity had accomplished than just about anyone. He felt like a god; people came and went, but Adam just was.
With each passing millennium things got a bit duller. The sun didn't shine quite the way it used to, it seemed. Humanity found new and terrible ways to kill each other. By his fifth millennium he was bored. By his tenth millennium he was depressed. By his fifteenth millennium, he was just exhausted. He was thankful for his extended time, but he just wanted to be finished, and try as he might, had no idea who still remembered him.
And then it happened: the Sun went supernova and extinguished all life on Earth. The good people of Mars died a few days later. With just almost all of humanity dying, most every ghost passed on as well. It was just Adam and a thousand other ghosts left, who realized that the last remaining crew of Humans were the crew of 6 who had left for Europa.
After realizing what happened, the ghosts formed an astral caravan and travelled to Europa. They all desperately wanted to keep the crew alive and Humanity with it, and Adam tagged along with them. He didn't say anything, but he knew if they died his ennui would finally be over. They got to Europa, and found the 6 of them, nearly freezing to death and on their last fuel cell. Then 2 of them died, and a cadre of ghosts vanished. Then another the next week, and another the week after, and the last vestiges of humanity were 2 humans, Adam, and a few hundred ghosts.
Those last two explorers gave each other a dejected look, and resignedly opened the cyanide capsule in their craft. There was a wail of grief among ghost kind, but there was nothing to be done. As they took the pill, Adam was at peace, finally ready to enter the Great Beyond. He closed his eyes and-
Nothing. The last two died, turned into ghosts, and then they and all other ghosts disappeared. It was just Adam stuck on a godforsaken rock. He collapsed in a heap of anguish, inconsolable and at a loss for why he was still here. Suddenly a portal of of light opened:
> Well this is odd, I swear we unit tested everything, you really shouldn't still be here.
Said what appeared to be a bespectacled angel, thumbing through a small console.
> Who are you! Why am I here! Just end my suffering, please.
Adam replied, in a mixture of confusion, despair, and rage.
> Oh wow, I see what happened, a good old self-referential pointer exception. Wouldn't have expected that in such a sociable species like you anthropodes!
The angel's gleeful excitement in discovery only made Adam more upset. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, so as slowly and deliberately as he could Adam asked:
> Humanity is dead. Why am I here? Who remembers me?
The angel looked up from his console and square at Adam and answered,
> Look, I don't know how to tell you this, we just never anticipated this edge case. See when people die, we create an index of all the people that remember them, and then add and remove from it as people forget/learn/die. Once that list is empty, poof, Great Beyond. We've just never encountered what happened with you. When you died, your list was empty, and so the compiler filled it with the only person who ever remembered you. You. | I spent my entire life believing, "Heaven was a place called Earth." I wish I would have been right.... 15,000 years and nothing has changed. Well, for me anyways. Many people have come and gone, I have learned countless stories from trillions, yet, I still remain. An ironic punishment of sorts I could say, I did so much to preserve humanity it was only fitting I would be here to help others understand their lives. There were others like me, some had been around for as long as myself, others longer, but for the majority you got 100-200 years maybe.
A light started to flash next to me as I focused back out on my surroundings. "Time to go to work," I yawned stretching my back. The faded shells of people moved all around me as I floated down from my perch. The fountains water did not touch me, just flowed through my body. Before me a man began to gain color from his faded self. Many other faded persons gathered around him attempting to help, but like the trillions I had seen before, he was beyond help.
"Stay back!" He yelled at those surrounding him, waving his arms about as he stood up. I gave a little chuckle as I flowed the rest of the way down. "They cannot hear you anymore," I spoke, placing my hand on his shoulder. Angry, he lashed back, as per usual, pulling away as if to run. As the reality of things set in, he turned back to me dumb founded. His eyes shifted past me to the faded fountain I had come to call home. "Where am I?" He whispered as I flowed my way next to him. 'Welcome to purgatory," I spoke, "Or at least that's what I like to call it, I've never really been sure." He continued to look completely lost, like so many before him. That expression never changes, even with time. "So I'm de...." "Dead," I spoke, cutting him off. "You have left the bounds of mortality indeed"
I let him sit just staring at the fountain as faded shadows pasted around us. I had all the time in the world for all I knew, and after waiting so long I was no longer impatient. I looked over the person before me as I had done many times before. A simple man in comparison to my last 'visitor'. A plain set of clothes uncommon, yet standard for the time. Comfortable clothes were always the best way to go, especially if you didn't know how long you would have to wait. Advance medical watch and ear pieces paired with what I could only imagine where bionics. He also seemed to have been lucky, he clutched a cube I knew had to be a new form of a satchel. He would have some familiar objects to toy with while he waited.
I gave a smile as I realized his watch was a version of mine from his time. I always knew it to be a good brand, too bad it held little meaning here aside as a friendly reminder to his own time. I opened my satchel, and removed my journal. I flipped open to my marked page and turned to a blank sheet. Trillions of notes taken, yet I still would find a new sheet when I would come to the end. A glorious perk of being here I suppose, yet, when I was gone who would read this. I continued to wait for what seemed like eons, until finally he turned towards me. "Yes?" I spoke knowing he was finally ready. "It's you isn't it?" He asked, turning back to the fountain once again. "Yes, I replied, it's been quite a while."
He bent down to look at the fountain's plate, faded in the twilight the numbers 1994 - 2037 could be seen. He sat back up and moved his hand across his watch. June 17, 17048 flashed in front of him before blinking back down. A confused look passed over his face once again, "How does this all work?" "Well," I spoke, "It's a bit complicated; however, as I have learned from my time here you can still use anything that was on your person when you passed over." "So," he spoke softly, "I can send a message to my family?" I laughed a little, "I'm afraid not, although that is always the first question it seems." "You can try to send one if you want, but they will only get a form of interference, in my time you could cause a phone call with no one on the other end to come through; however, I do not think your technology works that way anymore."
He began to look over me more closely now. My hiking shoes, jeans, and button down shirt was something out of a history book to him in comparison to his jumpsuit. Technology had always had a way in making things less unique in a sense. He then focused around us at the shadows we stood by. He reached out in curiosity as the shadow closed her arms feeling a chill. "Are they..." "Alive?" I spoke, "Yes, you are still on Earth, just in a different form of existence." He let out a long sigh before turning to face me once again, "So what do we do now?" "I gave a smile as I touched his shoulder, "We help those that pass understand this and wait." "Wait for what?" He said, looking once again confused as before. "Well, I don't really know, but in time you will learned." "Come," I motioned towards the road ahead of us. "Let's go and find your passed friends and family, I am sure they have missed you." He turned with me and began to walk. "If you don't mind me asking," He questioned, "Can you tell me about your life while we look." "You're the single most important person in history." I patted his back as we continued down the road, "Of course, ..." "Daniel," he said excited. "Of course Daniel," I smiled, "where would you like me to begin."
Behind us the shadows continued to walk along with the occasional few stopping to admire the fountain. Some throwing objects into the water, others bowing there heads in respect. One knelt down and cleaned off the name plate, smiling as he worked. The golden name etched forever in history. T. Ten, The Great Archivist, Savior of all Records. | 2017-06-26T15:03:31 | 2017-06-26T11:54:15 | 129 | 47 |
[WP] After an apocalypse, Death is desperately trying to help the last group of survivors so he doesn't lose his job. | "Ah, shit. Shit." Death muttered, wiping the dirt and dust off his cloak. "Ah, fuck." He exclaimed, nearly hitting a building. "Jesus, I really need to talk to the big man about these flight controls.." He said, making a series of quick turns. "Alright. Let's see.." Death whispered to himself, going through an endless list. "Hyrell Nuclear Power." He said, looking up from the list and quickly parking in what remained of the area. After he had exited his vehicle, he wasted no time getting to the front door of the building. "HEY! HEY! YOU!" Death screamed in an echoing, gravelly voice. The small group of survivors quickly turned around, with the leader firing a short burst of bullets at him in fear. Death stopped, and looked at his torn cloak. "Oh. Nice. Thanks, shithead." He said, staring at the leader with his empty sockets. The leader managed to put a sentence together. "W-who..who are you?" Death rolled his nonexistent eyes. "Seriously? You can't tell?" He said, motioning towards himself. "Cloak of darkness, skeleton, voice of a demon? Big ass scythe?!" The leader lowered his gun. "N-no.." the leader spoke. Death sighed. "I'M DEATH, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" He quickly exclaimed, his voice booming. "Christ.." Death muttered, holding his forehead. "Alright, you shitskulls. I'm here to save you." He said, rage in his voice. "You retards thought it would be a great idea to run into a nuclear power plant that hasn't been maintained for a couple of years. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, because your dumb machines would take care of the situation. But, because some fucking survivor came and stole all of the water, which means there's no coolant. The worker robots, knowing this, have to cool down the plant. They decide to use the liquid nitrogen inside of them. But, because of the fact that liquid nitrogen is the shittiest coolant ever, it produces toxic gas and barely cools it down. So that means hundreds of bots are gone each day, and the toxic gas is all over the plant. Oh, and the plant is going to melt down today." The group stared at him. "How do you know all this?" An old man asked. "Because I'm **fucking death**." Death said, little flickers of flame in the corners of his sockets. "Anyway, stay out of the goddamn plant." He said, pointing at the building. A young child popped out of the small crowd. "Why are you helping us, mister?" She asked, head tilted to the side. Death put his hands in his pockets. "Eh, because ^I'd^lose^my^job." The crowd quickly looked at each other in confusion. "What?" The leader asked. Death kicked a rock. "Cause I'd l^o^s^e^my^job.." He muttered. The leader yelled. "Just cut the shit!" Death looked up. "I'D LOSE MY JOB!" Death yelled back. The group started to get angry. "So you just care about yourself?" Someone yelled from the crowd. "Yeah, I do." Death said. "Well that's a dick move!" They yelled again. "YOU KNOW YOUR MOM WENT TO HELL BECAUSE SHE KICKED DOGS, RIGHT?!" Death screamed at the mystery man. "Anyway. You fuckwits need to head to New York. Mass graves there. I can bring some back to life, and you can fuck and save humanity." The leader stood there, face in hand. "You know New York is hundreds of miles away? And that the path is full of mutants and monsters?" Death nodded. "Well, then you'll need an escort. The scythe isn't just for show, pal." Death said, spinning the scythe. "Man, I fuckin' love doing that." The leader turned back towards the crowd. "Well, you heard him. Let's get going." The leader said, motioning for the group to follow. Their journey had begun.
"Is no one going to mention the fact that we're going to fuck dead people?" Asked a passerby.
Made by /u/Nuclear-Sloth
Sequels done by popular request
Subreddit coming soon! | It was a dark and stormy night, why did it have to be a dark and stormy night. One of them came out of their ruined building they call a base to gather water from the rain. In his blind stumbling he almost managed to slip and fall into one of the cracks in the earth after the earthquakes. All I wanted to do for so long is see every last one of these humans die it gives me a small semblance of what the humans call happiness. I caused a boulder to fall in his path into the chasm as he was inches away from the hole alerting him to his imminent death allowing him to narrowly avoid it.
I am the grim reaper, Hades, Osiris, la Muerte, Mors wherever I was the humans gave me a name I kind of miss it. Now I have to keep these fourteen humans alive or else I will cease to exist. "Guys I'm telling you I was this close to falling until a boulder fell right in front of me and into the chasm." Said Steve "This has been happening way too often, us just avoiding death." Truth is I was avoiding them, trying my hardest to keep them alive like the little incident yesterday. "We have to be more careful with whatever we do, I mean double and triple check for anything that can go wrong." James was my favorite of the bunch because he was easily the most logical of all of them. He made a great leader I'm glad I was too late to save the other leader he was too open to new ideas it's what killed him thanks to pestilence poisoning his crops.
There are four of us, of course me death but there's also war who wants to destroy the humans from within by causing them to argue and make them angrier and angrier until they kill each other from whatever he can make them angry about. There's also pestilence, he wants to poison, infect, and plague the world till everyone is dead. He and war actually teamed up in the middle of the good times to create biological warfare and destroy most of the humans. Then there's famine he wants to see the humans rot and die from lack of food. He and pestilence teamed up once so they could cause a vermin outbreak that not only ate or soiled their crops but also caused many to starve pretty clever. Now we all have only fourteen humans left and they don't seem to understand that we only have so many humans left and they need to breed so we can continue to kill and torture them. Luckily for me they have all decided not to work together, but instead kill them their own ways.
"Everyone we need to keep our hopes up, because that's all we have. We don't know if their is anyone else out there." There isn't. "We have to keep searching until we find anyone." Their hope was admirable even facing extinction they band together and look for others. It was what kept them driven and moving, their hope. That night I kept on watch as they migrated to another building to see if they could find anybody or supplies to help them. While scavenging Rachael almost got impaled on some rebar for a medical kit. She had to jump across a gap that she could have easily made if the floor on the other side wasn't crumbling with little to no support. To stop her from jumping I made the platform across from her crumble and disappear. "I can totally make that." Reese said as a grin appeared on his face. "No, the floor crumbled and I'm taking that as a sign that we shouldn't go for it." Good Rachael "come on we've made bigger jumps than that, if you give me a chance I could-." If I couldn't find a way for them to die for some supplies I would let them go for it which gave them a one hundred percent success rate on all their searches, that has made Reese overconfident on every run. "I said no Reese we've got everything we need we're heading back, now." Rachael always understood the signs I would make and to act appropriately. They headed back to their camp and everyone rested well with more supplies to sustain them. Except Reese he went out without anybody knowing and decided he could make the jump.
I had to think of ways to stop him I blocked the entrance, but he found a way in. I made the floor leading there fall and he still kept going until he got to the jump. He stared at it judging which angles would be the best. None could let him make the jump it was impossible and even if he did there wasn't enough space to get a running start to get back. I wished I could yell to him, shout "don't do it you'll die!" But I couldn't he couldn't hear me all I could do was wait for him to fail. He finally nodded having thought he knew which was the best spot. He got back got a running start and leaped with all the energy he could. He failed midway through and didn't have enough speed to clear it he was impaled on the spikes and died. As soon as I saw his spirit I was angry. He was one of the fourteen humans left in the world and he decided he would go directly against what he was told. Now I have thirteen humans to protect. Now I have to pick work even harder to keep them safe. I don't know how long I have to keep this up, but until the humans can sustain themselves and everything goes relatively back to the way it was and I can kill all I want. I will protect them from the horsemen, from disasters, and from themselves. | 2017-08-11T07:19:40 | 2017-08-11T03:58:20 | 65 | 14 |
[WP] An ordinary story, but every paragraph the narrator takes a shot | **The Cat in the Hat (with progressive shots of vodka)**
The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.
I sat there with Sally, we sat there, we two. And I said, "I found daddy's vodka, let's drink til' we're blue."
So all we could do was to
drink
drink
drink
drink
And we really liked it. Sally's face had turned pink.
And then something went BUMP! How that bump made us jump! We puked! Sally screamed "Yo da fuck?! What was that?" We puked! And we saw him, the cat in the hat. And he said to us "Why do you drink here like that? I know it is wet, and the weather is shit, but you should be sharing, that you'll have to admit!"
"I know some good games we could play," said the cat. "Makes the day pass by a lot quicker. A lot of good games, with a whole lot of liquor. When we are all done, you'll be close as my brother. Just please, for my sake, do not tell your mother."
Then Sally and I did not know what to say. This Cat in the Hat seemed awfully gay.
But our fish said "oh no, make that cat go away! Tell that cat in the hat you do not want to play!" Or maybe he didn't, perhaps he just splashed. Cuz Sally and I were pretty damn smashed.
The cat grabbed the bottle- dad's liquor he tasted. And not before long he was red-faced and wasted. "Fish, shut the fuck up, you're harshing my buzz." He ate him right up then and there just because.
"Look at me! Look at me now!" Said the cat. "I just ate your fish! I just pissed on your mat!" I knocked him the fuck out and I shat in his hat.
And Sally and I did not know what to do. Was this cat even real? Was our goldfish dead too? He'd come out of nowhere, all our fun he did drain. We dragged him outside, left him out in the rain. It lay there, his body, twitching and winking. As we headed back home to catch up with our drinking.
______________________________________
[more](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/)
| Today I'm going to tell you the story of the Scarlet Letter, by the great Nathaniel Hawthorne. The story has been canonized as one of American Literature's classics, and explores complex morality issues faced in a time when giving in to our own human natures was viewed as both detestable and wrong. I'll tell the story as best as I can remember it. Sorry if some of the details are off, it's been a while.
The Scarlet letter takes place in the 1800s. The main character, Hester Prynne, lived in small town colonized by Puritans or Quakers (one of those churches that built their community around measures of austerity), and she committed one of the worst crimes one can possibly commit in that society: adultery. She already had husband, but he was a man much older than herself, and she found herself attracted to a young priest. A devoted woman, she would often church and talk with the priest. There was an undeniable attraction between them, and then one day gives in to her base desires and sleeps with him.
All would have been good and well, except one day she has a child, and it could not have been her husbands, because he was away at the time, or maybe he was sterile, or presumed dead, or maybe the baby was too good looking to be his...been a while, don't remember. But man, he was pissed when he saw her holding that baby. Let me tell you. A lot of people asked her to name the father of the child, but she knew that snitches get stitches, so she kept that mouth shut.
So what do these Puritan/Quaker/Amish hard-asses do? The make a great big, red 'A' and they stick right on Hester's boobs. Chest. She has to wear it at all times, to remind herself of what a great big adulter-er (?) she was. If you ask me, they shoulda been the ones wearin' the 'A's on their chests, for being a bunch of A-Holes.
Jesus, give the girl a break. That priest was the hottest piece of ass in town, not her fault she wanted a taste of the forbidden fruit. Plus, her husband was gross. I don't really remember what he looks like in the book, but I do remember him from the movie, and let me tell you, 3/10 at best.
The rest of the story doesn't really matter. I think the priest feels guilty or something. Huge plot twist, right? What happens to Hester? Don't remember. The baby...don't remember. The husband... who cares. The priest...maybe he commits suicide? Don't hold me to that. I think he might have confessed in the end. Or maybe he didn't...*hiccup*...we may never know.
I read the Scarlet Letter...when did I read that...way back in high school? It was better than a Tale of Two Cities...that one was drier than the Sah...Saharherre...the desert. What's...the...*hiccup*...the moral? Don't...don't live in a place that punishes you with letters...it sucks. Wait, no. Wear your letter with pride. Yeah...*hiccup*... I like that better. My letter would be a 'D'. Big D, they'd call me. Hey, can you order me an Uber home? I dropped my phone earlier and broke it. | 2017-08-26T12:48:25 | 2017-08-26T12:30:54 | 71 | 30 |
[WP]Some time ago humans were put on the 'Only Contact in Case of Emergency' list. Now a threat to the galaxy has arisen and humanity is it's last hope. | Humans were the most dangerous species, by far. Not because they're smart, or strong, but because they were violent.
No race dared contacting them, because they didn't want war. It's too late now, I guess.
The heat death of our universe would come eventually, we just didn't think that other universes would run out faster.
We were invaded. All type 1 civilizations. Our clones from the next universe over came to conquer this one, because theirs had ran out. The worst part?
They brought humans.
No one could predict humans. Not even they could. But we don't have a choice. Without humans, we're doomed.
After a heated but respectful debate at the United Systems, it was decided that it was best to call the humans for help. Humans had the most experience in wars, seeing as how they had the most of them. In fact, they were so good at wars, they made up some rules for themselves to keep things interesting, or as they called it, "conventional".
The humans were surprised at first. They blamed eachother, then us, then eachother again, and eventually they broke war within themselves and made themselves go extinct.
We were doomed. Or so we thought.
As we said, humans are unpredictable and violent. They have a skewed view of reality and make very little sense at the best of times.
So what happened?
Half of the humans thought that, since there are no humans left in this universe, they could join our side without consequences, and that it was the right thing to do, since we were in this universe first.
The other half considered them traitors, and war broke between the humans again. And again humans got themselves extinct.
So... Without humans to make everyone go violent, the two universes managed to come to an agreement. Appearantly, the other universe never wanted to go to war, only their humans did, and they were too scared to say no to humans.
Humans were the best kind of problem, the type that fixes itself.
| "Yes, ma'am, all we need is aluminum from you."
Dr. Stevens leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Its sir, but I must say, your speech is very good for someone who has only spoken the language for an hour."
"Yes, your... pronouns are... odd. I don't understand the point."
"Well, I'm no linguist, so I can't explain it in a detailed, technical sense, but we use them to differentiate the person we are referring to."
"Why?"
Dr. Stevens drew from his cigarette and chuckled. "Why, I guess I never really thought about that."
The alien chuckled, or at least Dr. Stevens guessed he did. He liked this person that referred to itself as Lim. Earlier it pronounced its name in its traditional tongue but it just sounded to him like a fish was choking for about thirty seconds.
"Sir, could you please... not tell the President?"
It was Dr. Stevens turn to laugh. "I don't think I could talk to him if I wanted to. And I don't."
"We thank you for this discretion."
"So you need thirty tons of aluminum. How do we get it to you?"
The speaker crackled and the pitch fluctuated as Lim spoke. "I'll give you the coordinates. We have selected a location that should be convenient for you."
"I don't mean to pry, but why do you need the aluminum?"
Lim didn't respond for several long seconds. "I want to keep your people out of troubles that you don't need to worry about and could do nothing about if you knew. Your resource is one that we direly need and will go towards a purpose I promise is good."
"Ok, so we'll put the aluminum out for you. Then what?"
"I don't understand."
"Will you let us know that the pickup was satisfactory for you? Will you contact us again if you need something?"
"You will know that it went well if it is gone. I don't think we will speak again, at least not you and I. Perhaps I will speak again with one of your descendants, several generations removed. Our lifespans are very different, yours and mine."
"That's a shame. I enjoyed this a lot. My whole life I've wondered who, or if, anyone was out there."
"You couldn't fathom the answer to that question. There are beings across the entire spectrum of your imagination throughout the universe. Before I say goodbye, I wanted to tell you something. Something very important."
Dr. Stevens leaned forward and waited in silence.
"You there Lim?"
The speaker crackled again and a high pitched noise grew louder until Dr. Stevens winced and turned the volume down.
A growl poured out of the speaker, soft and low at first, then louder and more severe. Dr. Stevens grabbed the sides of his head. Mucus and small drops of blood began to drip out of his nose, eyes and ears.
Suddenly, the noise ceased. The room filled with an intense silence that deafened Dr. Stevens who could hear only his rapid breath.
"Never mind," said Lim.
| 2017-09-25T09:53:51 | 2017-09-25T09:20:47 | 60 | 19 |
[WP] Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago. | "That has got to be, without a shadow of a doubt, the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard."
Sergeant Barnes stood waiting for the coffee machine to finish making noise. Beside him stood Police Constable Williams, with a report in-hand.
"But it has to be the case, sir. There's no other possible connection."
"No other connection *that you can find*."
"Sir, how many victims have there been so far? Seventeen? Eighteen?"
"At least twenty," Barnes replied, as he checked his coat pockets for cigarettes. "Bloodwork suggests there's more than we originally thought. What's your point?"
"My point is that there's no other correlation between them. Do you not think it's odd that there are never any signs of forced entry, given the condition of the bodies?"
"I don't think the killer is choosing his victims because they have a fucking welcome mat."
"To be honest, I'm not too sure of that either. But we're obviously dealing with a complete nutter, so I think it might be worth considering. Maybe he really hates welcome mats."
Barnes let out a short groan. "Fine, I'll read it. *If* you go around the corner and get me some cigs. I've run out."
Williams glanced at the clock above the door (8:37am), then promptly obliged.
With the report and morning coffee in-hand, Barnes walked over to his desk. He waited until he could see Williams in the street through the nearby window, then chuckled as he dropped the report into the bin.
The welcome mat killer. He had now officially heard it all. Williams was a promising young officer, but he could be a real idiot sometimes. | John Dongle stares out of a highrise, '*Huh, it's a full moon tonight.* He thought quietly to himself.
"How can we increase sale!?!" shouted Joana in a horrible shrill.
Silence quickly returned, engulfing the seminar room.
"We have other products to worry about." Milton's curt response, in his awfully familiar monotone voice, failed to aid their situation.
"This is serious." John Dongle replied.
Milton rolled his eyes "You are all too picky, too lazy or too cheap. There is always quality blood at the red cross, stalking prey at night is ***not*** hard, and there are plenty of people who still *have* mats."
Joanna, and half of the other the members blushed in embarrassment, refusing to meet his blank expression that after such a condescending response. The rest looked at him with spite, but could think of no response.
John Dongle turned to look at his subordinates and met Milton's gaze with the up most disappointment "Are you saying you you are incapable of increasing sales? If so, you should leave right now."
Milton, got up and began to leave "It's not worth our time, if you can't listen to reason then fire me. You have no legal right to keep me here and I will not quit."
He stopped, and in a seemingly patronizing voice he bowed and said "Good night, my king."
John Dongle yelled "***YOU HAVE NOTHING SO YOU QUIT!?! WE WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU SUFFER!!!***" It echoed through the building, the yell reverberating through each and everyone of them.
Milton stood, expressionless, genuinely considering whether John Dongle was being sincere. It was definitely out of character. Milton could not conceive of how a vampire could be so human. Alas, he new he had to go with the safest option. took off his coat, hung it and sat back down very robotic like.
The room was tense, no one said a word. Milton sat there, thinking. Everyone was locked on either Milton or John Dongle. Only Joana was switching between staring at Milton or watching John Dongle carefully.
"Well, what if we gave them out for free." his monotone response provided release from the tension of John Dongles threat and their situation but his blasé manner further infuriated everyone.
John Dongle laughed, "You should be the King of the Night."
Milton smiled, in what could only be described as a warm smile. Yet, this was the first time anyone of them had seen ***it*** smile. The temperature dropped, goosebumps, and then Milton responded cheerfully "Anytime Johnathan, anytime." | 2017-12-13T11:24:11 | 2017-12-13T10:19:27 | 339 | 10 |
[WP] Humanity is the smallest intergalactic nation in terms of size since they couldn't colonize outside their system due to territory issues. An oblivious empire decides to invade humans to find humans to be impossible to invade. | For the first time in over a century, the Eril were going to war. Presently the flotilla was organized in the standard format, light attack ships forward, heavy battleships centered around the capitol cruiser, forge ships in its wake. Probes had yet to see any warships amongst the stellar commercial traffic. The Eril were wary.
"Scan the belt again. This isn't possible."
"Yes, admiral."
Galar stood amid his subordinates shrouded in many holograms of the Solar republic's commerce. The Belt mines, the asteroidal settlements, the colonies of mankind. Not one military installation was visible.
"We still have yet to receive any warnings, Admiral. They appear not to care."
"That's absurd."
"A mere observation, sir."
Indeed he had the same understanding. The freight moved as it had since their arrival, forty-six light hours ago. The capital Earth had undoubtedly seen them. What fool would not even acknowledge a force very clearly present to dominate?
Time passed.
Forty-Eight light hours had passed. Galar was roused from sleep by a message from First Lieutenant Mohar.
"Admiral, we have received a transmission from their capital."
"What time of war?"
"Forty-eight light hours, one tenth seconds."
"I will view it presently."
Punctual if belated, these humans.
The message was laughable.
"I am Officer Maria Buenbrazo of the Solar Republic Police. Your flotilla has inhabited our system for forty-eight hours maintaining a distance of four light hours from our star in orbital pattern Hotel-Eleven. Please move into orbital pattern Golf-Eleven, as you are in an outbound lane of traffic. State your purpose thereafter, or leave."
Galar stood agape. This Maria was no high official, she was a policewoman. After only a moment he began to flush with humor. His skin bloomed yellow, green, and blue. He had barely composed himself when Mohar hailed him again.
"Admiral."
"Yes, First Lieutenant."
"A ship has appeared."
"Appeared?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"Was there distortion?"
"No admiral, it does not seem to have warped."
"Has it hailed us?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"I will be at the bridge shortly."
"Yes, Admiral."
He arrived minutes later to see Officer Buenbrazo standing at attention before his flight seat accompanied by Mohar to her flank. Galar had seen humans before, and found their appearance to illicit feelings of empathy. Mohar, while at attention, was looking over the Human officer's hologram with interested eyes. He had not seen a human before. Like Galar he likely found them subtly beautiful.
"I am informed you are Admiral Galar of Erilium."
The insolence! She had spoke out of turn! Was this the way of the Solars?
"You shall not address me without my having acknowledged you first!" He spoke haughtily. Indignant.
"I will address you as I please, Admiral Galar. You are trespassing in my system, not I in yours." Buenbrazo spoke matter-of-factly. As if reciting an equation.
Galar simply stared. His color shifted subtly, yellow, green, blue, violet, returning to gray in a matter of milliseconds. The other Eril had reacted similarly, their changes less subtle. Galar detected amusement from Mohar. His face impassable.
"State your business." The officer again. So blatantly disrespectful! How dare this human speak to him so!
"Conquest." His voice rang like the tolling of a great bell.
Buenbrazo produced a notepad, scribbled momentarily before it disappeared.
"I have submitted your request."
"You have what?"
"I have submitted your request to conduct military operations within our Republic."
"We made no such request!" His color flashed less subtly. The bridge was alight with color.
"I have already submitted the request. The poll will return shortly. It matters not whether you do or don't conduct your operations herein, but you may be permitted to."
What is the name of Erilium was this horrible creature saying?! What need had he of permission! His flotilla was eight thousand strong! His forge ships alone could level a moon by their own power!
"The vote has returned."
"Oh?"
"You are not permitted to conquer."
"How unfortunate."
"Undoubtedly, for you." She paused to glance at her pad. "Do you have further business?"
"Yes!" He flashed brightly, his hue the deep red of his house. His crest erect. "I will conquer your star system!"
"Your opinion is noted." Again her eyes flicked across her notepad.
"OPINION?"
"Please relax and stand by."
"RELAX?" The bridge was all crests and indignation.
"We have voted to eject your flotilla."
"I DARE YOU TO TRY!"
And she was gone. Galar stood before his first lieutenant agape. Mohar was similarly befuddled.
"This is damnable nonsense!"
"Yes, Admiral!"
"Set course for their capital. We will level it first. Destroy Maria Buenbrazo and her craft."
"Admiral."
"Yes, Ensign Beran."
"The craft is gone."
"We will find it shortly. Enable high intensity scan. Their stealth craft is no trouble to us."
"Admiral."
"Ensign?"
"The flotilla is gone." Her hue was black. Galar surrounded himself with excellence. There could be no mistake. His flotilla was gone.
"Perha-"
The capital ship, its escort, the entire flotilla was no longer in commercial lane Hotel-Eleven.
"The aggressors have been ejected, time of rotation, twenty-one point twenty-five hours."
"Noted. Coffee later, Buen?"
"We've got another flotilla coming in from Andromeda at point eight. It'll be about forty minutes."
"Rain check?"
"You know it."
"Conquerers, amiright?"
"Tis the season, Holt."
Many lightyears away, Galar stood on the bridge facing Mohar. Beran spoke.
"We remain in formation, Admiral. It would appear we are eight point three light hours from Erilium."
"Thank you, Ensign."
The bridge was white. Every Eril shone like marble.
"Mohar."
"Yes, Admiral." His voice quavered.
"Please file our battle report. I will retire to my quarters."
"Yes, Admiral."
| “What do you think of this human empire?” asked Notok.
“I think they are weak, and will be easy to take” said Dotok.
“Excellent, should I ready the troops?” said Notok.
“Sally forth, and tomorrow we will be champions of the galaxy!” said Dotok.
The Grideloks prepared for battle with their ceremonial festivities. Lavish banquets, followed by intense love-making, and ended with desserts and wine. The men said goodbye to their families and made their way to the communal housing, from which they would launch into the nether. The generals prepared their best clothing and mounted their space horses to ride into battle. The Gridelok offensive had begun, and humanity was the unfortunate target.
“How do you say victory in human tongue?” asked Dotok.
“I don’t believe they have a word for that” said Notok.
“Such a foolish species, no wonder they are so small” said Dotok.
The Gridelok armies arrived at the outer reaches of the human galactic empire, and sent out a harrowing cry. They signalled to their enemies the impending onslaught that would come. However, the Grideloks were dismayed, for they did not hear anything back. Upon closer inspection, the Grideloks discovered a mysterious force guarding the outer reaches. It was a…toll booth.
“Sir, the advance has stopped” said Notok.
“I can see that” said Dotok.
“Should we approach?” asked Notok.
“I believe so, these savages deserve a beating” said Dotok.
Dotok approached the toll booth and knocked on the window. There was no initial response, which angered Dotok. He thought the humans had already retreated, knowing full well they would lose. However, a woman opened the glass panel and greeted them.
“Hello, welcome to the intergalactic toll road south leading onto the Milky Way, can I have your name please?”
“My name is Dotok, conquerer of the Nine Bas…” said Dotok.
“I’m sorry, your name is don’t talk?”
“No, Dotok conquerer of the Nine Basins and Free…” said Dotok.
“Alright, don’t talk I am going to need your license plate number” said the woman.
“What’s a license plate? You primitives identify with plates?” said Dotok.
“So you don’t have one?” asked the woman.
“No, now if you excuse us we have an empire to take over” said Dotok.
“Not before you pay the toll, you don’t” said the woman.
“What is this outrage, you cannot subject me to your rules, I am the almighty conquerer, I pay nothing” said Dotok.
“Then you’re not getting through don’t talk” said the woman.
“Just watch me” said Dotok.
Dotok approached the barrier and tried to lift it, but to no avail. He was told he was in violation of county law 674, for vandalizing public property. He then rammed it several times with his space horse, but could not break through. Notok watched in embarrassment as his commander failed to get through the smallest of obstacles. He offered to help, but Dotok refused. He said he had to do this to maintain his honour. However, he went back to the toll and confronted the woman.
“Can I help you?” asked the woman.
“Let me through, or suffer the consequences” said Dotok.
“Did you pay the toll?”
“No, I will not pay your stupid toll. I am Dotok…”
“Look, don’t talk, I am under strict rules to not let anyone through who fails to pay the toll, so unless you are special, you gotta pay the toll” said the woman.
“But I am special, I am Dotok, Conquerer of the…Nine…something…uhhh…you made me forget my own title, dammit” said Dotok.
“Sir, unless you are willing to pay the fine, I have other people I have to tend to, so may you please take yourself and your little group and leave” said the woman.
Dotok was furious and insulted. He wanted revenge against this toll woman. He took out his laser musket and fired repeatedly at the window, but all the shots bounced off. He was tired of the commotion, and demanded to be let through.
“I demand entrance into the human empire! I am very important and deserve a chance to conquer your people! Can I just leave an IOU and pay you on the way out, I don’t really have any money” said Dotok.
“Sir, maybe we should just leave” said Notok.
“No, I will not leave until I get what I want. This is my journey and my goal and I want it God dammit!” said Dotok.
A light shined above them and the cosmos began to open. A large figure appeared and looked down upon Dotok. He had a glow to him, and appeared to be of immense power. Dotok was quivering beneath his armour. He was unsure what to do.
“Who said my name in vain?” asked God.
“He did” said the toll woman.
“What kind of petulant fool are you? You’re waking up my family and me, and we’re trying to have a nice, quiet night” said God.
“I am Dotok, I will not be silenced. I am the conquerer of…” said Dotok.
“Jesus man, do you ever stop talking? What is your problem anyway?” asked God.
“He doesn’t want to pay the toll” said the toll woman.
“Oh, sir you gotta pay the toll” said God.
“I am not paying a damn toll” said Dotok.
“I get it, you are embarrassed because you are broke and in need of some cash. I’m sorry to say that as God, I cannot help because I don’t believe in currency.”
“Oh my God, this is infuriating!” said Dotok.
“Hey, one more time and I’m calling security” said the toll woman.
“You better listen to the woman, she’s vicious” said God.
Dotok was in a bind. He was unsure of what to do. He was faced with insurmountable obstacles and could seemingly not find a way out. Therefore, he resolved to do the traditional Gridelok sign of surrender, cry profusely.
“Oh, well this is embarrassing” said Notok.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t blame you from completely disassociating with this person” said God.
“It’s been rough day, maybe a nap will calm him down” said Notok.
“Yeah, take him home and start fresh in the morning” said God.
“Okay, pack it up men, we’re going home” said Notok.
A collective sigh was heard amongst the soldiers, who were eager to fight against the human empire. However, seeing the crying Dotok made them realize the stress and pain when it comes to dealing with humans. Many of them swore off conflict after that, the horror of Dotok a constant reminder of how the scourge of war can change them immensely.
“Great work today Shelly, you took care of those guys like nothing. You really are doing God’s work” said the toll manager.
“Yeah, maybe God would pay me more too” said Shelly.
“I don’t believe in currency!” murmured God. | 2017-12-24T10:46:32 | 2017-12-24T09:25:58 | 188 | 111 |
[WP] You're on Trial for Murder. The only evidence is a horribly photoshopped picture of you shooting a gun from Halo at the victim. Unfortunately, you seem to be the only person who realizes this. | "The gun is fictional, FICTIONAL I TELL YOU!" I screamed out.
The judge made a simple statement, "prove it."
I pulled out my phone and showed him the halo wiki page for the gun and I pointed out the white cutout around the gun, the judge finally conceded that the picture was photoshopped.
"So John, why are you in prison?"
"Well instead of talking about how 'he photoshopped it', I, well..."
Mark guessed it right, "You said I." | "Why is this happening to me, how can people be so blind?" I thought to myself contemplating calling everyone in court a fucking idiot.
The Jury was made up of a colorful variety of Sunday football dads, Seniors with nothing better to do, and middle aged suburban moms with a thirst for gossip to take them out of their mundane life.
The victim, a 21 year old male. The kind that with a good heart that everyone loved. He volunteered as a physician in the CAR saving poor African children. He was a better man than me.
Now I was never the brightest person. What was happening was just bizarre. My defense attorney just told me to pledge guilty. My best friend who has been by my side for my hole life called me a murderer.
The murder gun was never found. The Prosecutor appealed to the jury emotionally. "The killer used large, metallic, advanced weaponry. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we cannot let this man walk away.. no, he shouldn't be allowed to live after this."
I tried to defend my case. Oh believe me I did. "This is obviously photoshopped" I yelled at a perplexed judge. "I would never harm anyone, I have never fired a gun in my life. This must be some sick joke".
The judge scribbles something down as he yawns. He looks me straight in the eye "You might not think this is fair, although you remember being a good person, you weren't one in *real life*" He pulls back his wig to reveal two red horns as everything goes up in flames. | 2018-05-03T15:31:24 | 2018-05-03T15:10:35 | 174 | 63 |
[WP] You're given a chance to see how many times you've been near death. The highest number of times anyone you know of has almost died, was 15, and they have a dangerous job. You just found out that your life has been close to ending 278 times. | My best friend and I had decided to go see the latest craze together. We had gone to get tested to see how many times we had *almost* died by this super computer. It was supposed to be all the rage (kinda like getting fortune told) but in a fun and silly way.
I, a woman of no great importance had set a new record for being close to death 278 times.
The operator looked at me in awe and said that the last person had a dangerous job. Yeah.. I'm guessing that he was some sort of super spy like James Bond.
But me, that was unexpected. I'm just an ordinary girl and I work with computers. I don't suffer at my job. My biggest problem there is my micromanaging, perfectionist boss.
I sipped my tea as I chatted to my best friend.
"I just don't understand... how could my life be in danger? I bet the machine is just a hoax."
She looked at me pityingly before she pulled my arm towards her and gently pushed up the sleeve of my shirt revealing a large bruise that had turned purple. "You're still with him. After everything he's done to you. The lies, the beatings. Can't you see he's no good for you?"
I looked at her blankly and then my mind went into overdrive and before I could stop myself I said, "it's just a stage. Teething problems in an early relationship since we've just moved in together. We just need to get used to each other and find our momentum and then everything will be fine."
"You've been together for 2 years. He's only going to get worse and you're enabling him. One day I'm going to receive a call and you'll be dead by his hand and when the coroner does an autopsy they'll find your body battered, bruised and broken. But you'll just be another statistic to them." She gulped down the last of her espresso and set it down with a discernable click. "I'm sorry. I can't be a part of this anymore. I can't watch you on this downward spiral. You're not the person I once knew and it's not good."
She stood up. "Don't call me again until you're ready to leave him." She said before walking out the door.
I sat in that seat for a very long time.
| She did her best. She was kind, she feigned a sense of empathy, but I could tell how scared she was as she tentatively told me the news.
Everyone knows that the only people who break 50 are those that have lifethreatening illnesses, and here I am with 278.
I accepted it pretty quickly, I just didn't understand it. My inner monologue started firing off questions. " I feel fine... It's not like I'm going through my days balled over in pain. I'm not fit, but I'm not fat."
She handed me a few pamphlets and suggested I try the one downtown, tapping the top pamphlet. I nodded absently and tried to catch up. I read the top, "What Ails You" It's a diagnostic center.
On my drive over I continued to delve into things, "No history of heart disease or diabetes. I almost always use protection... Fuck!!!"
Suddenly I was back in the drivers seat, my mind trying to play catch up. for a moment I felt frozen in time, here it was, the answer, my end. I caught back up to reality, And overcompensated as I jerked the wheel to the right. Narrowly Missing the car in the next lane as my mind, car and reality stabilized.
I provided my insurance, and started on the forms, things went quickly. Just a whole bunch of checkboxes for no, no pre-existing conditions, no allergies... None of this made any sense to me. Why me?
They put me on a treadmill and measured my heart rate and breathing. They prodded various spots and asked where I felt pain. They asked me if I had noticed anything unusual in the past while. I hadn't. They examined all my moles, seearched for cuts, bruises. Took some samples... my hair, my skin, my cheek. They promised to call with the results.
I entered my apartment and dropped my keys on the kitchen counter. I hadn't told anyone yet, and I didn't want to. I wasn't ready to have my family and friends react. I've seen how people react to high numbers on facebook. It's so shitty. Like you're dead already. I walked through the living room, past the couch, tv and xbox.
I crashed into my bed. Suddenly aware of a giant hole in my chest. I began to weap out of exhaustion, and then self pity. Newly aware of a new feeling in my chest. It felt as though my body was imploding into my chest. As if a giant blackhole had formed there. Is it my heart? is this existential dread going to physically kill me? I became an ugly mess, stifling my wailing in my pillow so my neighbors wouldn't hear. My snot spread across my pillowcase and I realized I was going to have to clean it up before bed or risk getting it all over myself. I cried harder when I realized I didn't care if it did.
Then it started. The sounds of the springs of their bed and the ceiling above trying to withstand the lovemaking of my neighbors above. The ceiling creaked and groaned in a steady rythm as they went about their lives, oblivious to my torment below. I could hear the wood splinter with the last groan, and I looked up to see the ceiling above me begin to bellow. Before I could shout the bed broke through, right on top of me. | 2018-07-27T14:51:55 | 2018-07-27T12:56:54 | 31 | 19 |
[WP] Earth is in the midst of an Alien Invasion. They are winning. The armies of the world are making their last stand. But unbenknownst to both the invaders and the invaded, Humanity was not the only species native to the Sol System... | ‘My Lord, you wanted me to keep you informed about the War on Earth; here are the intel reports but suffice it to say the Humans are losing.’
A wet, gurgling yet unfathomably deep, bass voice tumbled around the chamber, ‘Gooooooood.’
The advisor shrunk back at this before nervously continuing, ‘Your eminence, shall I order the Military to prepare?’.
The form of his god surged forwards at this, enveloping him as he squealed and crushing him into silence. He was lifted up and held before a giant, yellow and red eye. The thunderous voice caused him to quiver in fear, ‘You presume too much.’.
L’shalak was summoned to the chamber, having been newly promoted to Primary Advisor. He slithered as fast as his slapping tentacles could move him and as soon as he arrived he prostrated himself, awaiting the Great One’s orders. The voice boomed off the walls and resonated within him, ‘The stars are aligned. Prepare the Military to attack Earth. Their oceans shall finally be ours.’
——————
The plan had been simple, crush the Alien Invaders between what remained of the Human defenders and our superior and fresh, Europan Cephalopod Legions before continuing on and performing the coup de gras on the humans once and for all.
The Xenos had been surprised by us and once we captured their vessels, their ground forces were crushed without supplies. At last we were so close to victory and dominion over Earth but like every other time, we underestimated the humans. They’re like ants, cockroaches; turn over a rock and you find one blasting your tentacles off with a shotgun or trying to fit you into a cooking pot. That’s one thing we learnt very quickly, never get taken alive by a Human.
| The crows have flocked to the battle field. So many crows feasting on the dead of both sides, some of them look so fat I'm not even sure if they can still fly. Not like they need to, they have enough food to last 10 lifetimes.
We aren't sure why the invaders haven't bombed us from orbit. Some argue that they ecologists, doing everything they can to protect the environment and that this is our retribution. The optimists among us say that they wish to show their dominance over us before offering a life of slavery or servitude to them.
The only thing we can all agree on is that this war has been the most bloody one in history. They possess shields that are almost impervious to all immediately dangerous kinetic and thermal energy entering about a meter away from their body. I once saw a truck hit a grunt at 120 kph and all it did was make his shell glow for a few minuets as it radiated heat.
The only way to effectively kill them is up close and personal. In a twist of fate that made every military annalist since WWII's head spin guns were replaced with knives, clubs, and spears.
Our only saving grace what that they are slow, weak, and evidently, not too bright. By ambush and possibly foolhardy bravery we've killed millions, but it's just not enough when they can lase us in half from a click away. In the last significantly populated city on earth we make our last stand.
As the battle begins the crows get excited. Their lust for the upcoming feast would put any high-schooler on prom night to shame.
We hide in our holes surrounding the city ready to attack after they walk over us. 'Like gooks in 'Nam' the older of us say.
The crows reach a fever pitch as the fighting starts. Confused reports come in from command over the wire, they can't figure out who started the attack. It doesn't matter, we'll all be dead anyway.
After 30 minutes we jump out with our spears, ready to die. We are met with a massacre. Crows have already begun their feast. Millions, no billions of them. Must of been damn near every crow on earth. Gouging out eyes, pulling apart the aliens pathetic plastic armor, picking at the delicate red flesh underneath, licking at every puddle of blue blood. That's when I saw him. The last of them, being chased by a flock of a thousand crows, feebly crawling away from the city.
They left after the battle. We think they decided our pitiful pollution riddled planet wasn't worth the effort.
Later on we went back an analysed recordings. The crows were trying to talk to us. We couldn't understand most of it, but we did learn "Food, get us all the tasty tasty food!" | 2018-08-26T09:28:25 | 2018-08-26T07:45:03 | 14 | 10 |
[WP] The world's most powerful leaders enter cryostasis as the world is on the brink of ecological collapse, planning to return when stability is assured. Hundreds of years later they are woken to stand trial. "The world was fixed while these men slept. An apology will not suffice". | "You were our leaders. Leaders of Government. Corporations. Military. Leaders in power, in wealth, in combat. You were supposed to *lead*. Be examples that we should aspire to. But the people grew tired of your corruption. Your greed. Your warmongering. So you were tricked into leaving of your own free will. We used your pride, your money and your arrogance. And while you slept, this is the world we created without *you*. Without your interference, without your personal ambition, without your lust for strength. We now live in a society that has no place for people like you. You were only woken up so we could deliver a message, and show you the world as you *should* have made it be.
Your long sleep is over. Your permanent sleep is at hand." | When you arrived at the excavation site you were really hoping it to be a career-defining moment. You knew these kind of discoveries are the ones that could earn you lifetime prestige in the archeology circles. Usually archeologists change the understanding of our past, to change the world of today was a whole other story.
&#x200B;
The capsule pods had information imprinted on them. They were in an old form of English, the formality and abundance of technical terms made it really difficult to decipher it.
&#x200B;
It took a team of historians, linguists and engineers to translate the totality of the information inscribed on the pods. The reality is that they were not meant to stay away all this long. The bunker and the energy system that kept the pods running malfunctioned and they had to stay in a state of low energy consumption. Basically, they were in a state of cryostasis indefinitely or until they ran of energy, but we arrived first.
&#x200B;
Carbon dating and historical footage confirmed the dating of the pods and the identity of the occupants. The elite of the 21st century, vulnerable and at the mercy of the same world and people they tried to escape from.
&#x200B;
Jails were not plenty but still necessary, a heated debate had taken place a few centuries back on the utility, morality and philosophy of prisons, but in that particular case, fear triumphed and prisons remained. Many were repurposed for lack of inmates as time went on however.
&#x200B;
"A trial is not necessary", proposed old Judge Manfredini, "there are enough historical records to send these criminals to the big house right now!".
edit: added exclamation point
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
&#x200B; | 2019-02-03T20:24:27 | 2019-02-03T20:11:49 | 1,678 | 332 |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.