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[WP] “Moon’s haunted.” | When our colony’s air supply failed, and Mission Control executed an emergency recall for all personnel, we didn’t spare a thought for the things we left behind—our clothes, our uneaten freeze-dried food, our memories. We backed up all video logs and audio recordings, beamed them back to Earth.
But how do you archive a chance meeting with your new girlfriend in the service corridor, the one that few people use, the one that has a little alcove with a tiny table that can fit just two people, if they don’t mind being close, if they just want to talk and be alone for a while?
Where do you store that moment?
Where do you put the moment that followed, and the next? That time the two of you were making out in your tiny cabin and she hit the tea kettle just right and it tipped over and spilled cold two-day-old Chinese black tea all over the two of you, and you both laughed it off? Whatever happened to that tea kettle, to those tea-stained clothes?
And later—years later—after you’ve been married to that crazy woman that you met on Luna, after the kids have moved out, after a million new memories and moments and steps forward in your relationship... after all that, when you’ve buried her, when you’ve given away most of her clothes to a thrift store, and you’ve divided up the rest of her mementos between yourself and your kids—what do you suppose happened to those moments from the beginning?
Thousands of miles away, in the empty corridors of a long-abandoned home on a bit of grey rock floating in the void of space—are those memories still there? Have they taken form, reenacting the first tender sparks of a love that would change the trajectory of your entire life?
Do they wander the halls, those ghosts of lives left behind?
Often, you sit out at night, staring up at the bright moon, and you wonder about these things. But mostly, you remember. | A cold wind blew through the lander as soon as it made touchdown. That was a problem, because it couldn't have been possible.
All the obvious solutions were ruled out one by one. The engine's cryo lines didn't have any holes, because we were all still alive, and the life support system was operating at 105% throughout the incident, with no changes detected to air temperature or pressure.
But we'd all felt it. There was no denying that it happened. That *something* happened. Houston noticed it too, a squawk of sharp feedback over comms at the exact same moment.
Hawkins, who was wearing a pressure suit at the time in preparation for an EVA, let out a terrified shout in that instant. He denies that now.
Even as the first mission in 70 years, we thought we knew the moon inside and out. What it was, where it came from.
What a joke.
-----
I might finish this later. Might not. Who knows. | 2020-05-07T21:52:46 | 2020-05-07T21:33:37 | 23 | 12 |
[WP] You wield a sword that gets sharper the greater the knowledge you tell it. A common known fact dulls the sword while knowledge only a few know sharpens it. | >"One plus one is two."
The blade glowed bright blue and became infinitely dull, nearly flat. Cool.
>"How about this, my favorite color is green."
The blade gleamed a bright red and became sharper than a razor. Not a super important fact, but even if everyone he knew was aware of his favorite color, there were billions and billions of people who didn't know.
>"The sky is blue"
Another bright blue flash, and the blade was flat again. He smiled, finding amusement in the fact that the ancient magical blade was nothing more than just a flashy toy. "How about a tricky one this time? See how the sword handles relative information."
>"Fire is hot"
A lighter blue flash, though it seemed that the blade could not grow any more dull. He laughed. Seems like people know that fire is hot! What a surprise... He thought for a second, "How about a joke this time?"
>"Blondes are dumb“
Nothing. Must not be true. He shrugged. Guess the sword has no sense of humor. "Maybe it'll like a meme?"
>" Birds aren't real"
Suddenly, the sword blazed red, the light so bright that he had to cover his eyes. In his panic, he dropped the sword. It sliced cleanly through the cement of his patio, sticking up in the ground. What the hell??? There's no way. It must have misheard him.
>"Birds are real"
Nothing. Shit. What else?
>"9/11 was an inside job?"
Red flash.
>"We never landed on the moon?"
Red flash.
>"There are are aliens in area 51?"
Red flash.
>"There was a shooter on the grassy knoll?"
Red flash.
>"The illuminati controls the world?"
Red flash. He was panicking. There was no way this sword was telling the truth, but if it was... "Oh no. Oh God, this isn't good."
>"I'm so dead, aren't I?"
Red flash, and the flash of a gun. He would take his newfound secrets to the grave. | "what do you mean the sword can't tell?"
Cal leaned in closer. The mix of confusion and rage on his face made victory only that much sweeter. Yu grinned a little wider.
"What's the sword going to do? Walk off and fact check everything I tell it?"
"Yes! I mean. I ASSUME it has some kind of.."
"Exactly!" Yu cut in "you _assumed_. But what could the blademage have really done? You really think she made a complex psychic network of swords all fact checking with each other? What if someone told the sword a secret no one knew? How could they possibly know if it was a lie?"
Cal sputtered, like he started speaking before he even figured out what to say.
"I... It can't be that... There _has_ to be some kind of truth teller hex on it right?"
Yu wiped the ale from her mouth with her sleeve and pushed away from the tavern table.
"Watch and learn goblin-brain" she said as she drew her sword of a thousand secrets.
Yu lifted the blade to her lips and whispered..
"The nineth eleven clan raid was an inside job"
Then she cut the table in half. | 2021-12-01T11:26:44 | 2021-12-01T10:09:16 | 68 | 23 |
[WP] On a dare, you've prank called the local police, telling them there's a demon outside. Their answer: "We know. Stay inside. There's help on the way." | We stare at each other, dumbfounded. The phone is still on the coffee table, and we can see that the police ended the call. Did we just get counter-pranked? Rita's the first to react.
"That was... weird. Was that a joke?"
"It had to be."
"But can they do that? Can they joke like that in these calls?"
"I guess so. I mean, what else could it be?"
Paul smiles and leans back on the couch, his hands behind his head.
"Damn, they're good. They got you. They totally got you."
We start laughing. And then we suddenly stop. Police sirens. Approaching.
"You guys hear that?", asks James.
We all nod.
"You don't think...?"
"Nah... no way... has to be a coincidence."
As we hear the sound getting louder, we start getting nervous. Paul gets up.
"That seems real close."
Rita is looking at the window.
"They're coming here. Did they trace the call?"
We can now see lights flashing outside. We hear cars pulling over. Four doors open and close.
A gunshot!
"What the hell was that?" - James panics.
There are shouts outside.
"Look out!"
"The bastard's moving!"
Another shot. And another. And another.
Paul is screaming. "Oh my God, what's going on outside?"
Rita holds Paul's hand tight. James, Kim and Jeff hide behind the couch. I'm too scared to move.
Someone yells outside. A thud. A car alarm goes off.
"The son of a bitch got Spears! Take him out! Take him out now!"
Two more gunshots. Something crashes hard against the wall. We have to cover our eyes as a bright light blinds us through the windows.
When the light goes out, there's only silence. I can hear my own heart beating incredibly fast. I think I can even hear Rita's hearbeat. No one says a word, but we're all thinking the same thing. Is it over?
We all jump as we hear three knocks on the door.
Then, silence.
Three more knocks.
Silence.
The door comes down. | You hang up, shaking. Your little brother looks up at you, with a little smile on his face. "Well, what did they say? Are they going to send someone over? Man, cops are so dumb!" You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sounds come out. Suddenly, there is a knock at the front door. Your head whips around, your heart racing. "They're here!" You watch in horror as your brother runs towards the door, your body moving in slow motion. He reaches the door and begins to open it. Somehow you manage to grab his hoodie and fling him back before the door is shoved violently open. A formless black cloud covers the threshold "*at last, we have found you*" it whispers. A thick black spike shoots out from its center, headed straight for you. You freeze, every part of you shaking, the only thought in your head is protecting your little brother behind you. Suddenly, there is a bright flash and the demon screams in pain. You can see a golden, eatheral shield in front of you. | 2019-04-19T13:05:42 | 2019-04-19T11:06:54 | 267 | 79 |
[WP] "Fuck it." The General said, as the alien mother-ship came in to land. "Summon Cthulhu." | It had been a long and drawn out war. Centuries of warfare against the indomitable strength of the Offworlders had caused rapid technological advances on earth.
Automobiles were traded for frictionless hovercraft, ballistic weapons for energy propulsions systems, and quiet homesteads in the country for staggeringly large domiciles which stretched into the atmosphere, housing hundreds of thousands in only a city block, miles high.
Rather than living for things like love, peace, and family, society was fighting for its life against a Herculean opponent from the stars.
The people from earth detected the invading force about 20 years before they arrived, and they fortified everything they could.
The forces from earth had established AI manned military bases on the other planets in the solar system. They'd made defense mechanisms which could destroy an entire Otherworlder transport ship, and then use the wreckage to build more machines to fight against them.
The invading force held terrible power. They seemed to have no fear of death, no need to mourn their kin who had been incinerated before there eyes. They simply kept coming, kept going. Those who had been captured would not speak, and even when tortured simply begged for death until it was given. And they had strength in numbers. While one hundred might be killed, another thousand might be birthed in the mothership in only an hour. All they needed was energy. Every time they captured another base, they didn't man it, they just converted it to energy in their mothership. They would use anything, asteroids, shuttles, people. They converted it all. And from this energy, more of them came.
The people from earth fought like hell against the oppressors, but they were trapped in their solar system. They had no access to energy from other suns, no way of renewing their resources.
And so the two forces fought, locked in battle over the course of several hundred years. But as went time on, things became increasingly dismal for earth. Slowly, but surely, earth gave ground. By the time mars was taken, the people from earth were getting desperate. Looking for any answer, any ingenious realization which could save them. Many things were tried, and many things failed. They were losing this fight.
....
On the day the mothership landed in the Capitol, everyone was waiting with bated breath, hoping that the leader could come up with some compromise. Hoping for anything other than extinction. Anything other than a whole planet being extinguished.
The feed of the capitol building was live, all over the planet. Everyone watched as a force of invaders walked unresisted into the Oval Office. Everyone watched the Offworlder Queen stroll into an empty room.
What the world did not see on their livestream, thousands of miles away, was where the President was just finishing up the geometric symbols he'd drawn all over the room. Where he was pouring the fresh blood into the shallow maze carved into the floor. Everyone did not see the cavernous pit look open like the mouth of some subterranean behemoth. The world did not see him gaze longingly at the picture of his family, before setting it at the edge of the pit, before chanting the ancient words and casting himself into the pit. Nobody heard the dull thump of his body, as it was caught in a great cold hand, the size of a football field.
What everyone DID see, whether or not they were watching a broadcast, was what happened when the Old One woke.
They did see the laws of space and time break. They did see the distortions in reality. They saw as the skyscrapers and cities, curved in on themselves, crushed under their own weight. They saw, and felt all the space stations and aeroplanes being pulled inescapably to earth. They heard the screaming of lost ones, ones who had met this terrible force before. They felt themselves thrown into an infinite loop of being torn apart seam by seam, and then pieced together all wrong.
For the first time, the Offworlders felt fear. They became fear. They were not wanted here, and they knew it. They felt themselves become molten, melting in endless pain. They felt themselves glistening with immobile fragility, knowing that a single touch would shatter them.
They saw their Queen peel like an orange, then watched her insides decay like old fruit in the dark, in just a matter of seconds.
Everything pulsed. The hills rolled over each other like waves, while the buildings folded into each other, crushing everyone and everything inside.
After everything the Old One saw as unnatural was gone and buried beneath the mountains, it was time for growth. Trees sprang up wildly, covering the hills. Grass grew like fire on the the planes, and flowers and ivy crept over everything all in an instant, caressing the hillsides.
Somewhere, there were survivors. People had made it, and they would survive. They would repopulate, as they had before.
This was not the first time the Old One had to protect the people from earth, and it would not be the last. With his job done once more, he sunk back to the deep innards of the earth, and rested his eyes.
He would slumber here until he was needed again.
Edit: Many thanks for everyone's thoughts on this, and many thanks to whichever kind stranger gave me gold! | "I can't see anything," complained Professor Martine over the roar of the chopper's blades. The fog had swallowed the helicopter almost as soon as it had entered the Triangle, and yet it flew blindly onwards. There was little point in turning back -- death likely waited for them in front, but it was without a doubt waiting behind. Martine could almost feel the scythe chasing after them through the air.
"You'll know when we find it," Leuitentant Daniels replied into his headset. The roiling fog spilled into the vehicle itself, veiling the pilot from the two passengers in the back. There was a smell to the mist now. Acrid. Like rotting fish.
"Do you think it can hurt the invaders?" Martine asked. "Please, tell me the truth. If humanity is damned, I wish to know."
"When we first found the creature," Daniels replied, "we tried to fight it. Big fucking mistake. That thing destroyed three of our aircraft carriers in seconds. It plucked them out of the ocean and snapped them like twigs. Then, it swallowed them."
Martine gulped. "But you defeated it eventually. Right?"
Daniels' grinning face was barely visible through the spiralling plumes of fog. "We surrendered, Professor."
"You... can't have surrendered. The US military wouldn't surrender to some... *supernatural* creature."
"It wasn't just the US. Besides, what choice did we have? It survived a God-damned nuclear strike. All we did was piss it off."
"It... I..." Martine stuttered. "How come I have never heard of this before? A major military incident like that. And how come this creature never destroyed a mainland area?"
"We made a pact with it."
"A pact?"
"Yeah. A deal. A plea, really. A dead man's bargain."
"I know what a pact is," replied Martine, taking off his glasses and wiping them against his knitted sweater. The helicopter was just as fogged up, when he placed them back onto his nose, as it had been before. "What was this pact, exactly?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Of course!"
Daniels sighed. "People go missing, Professor. Not just in America, but all over the world. People go for a walk, or a drive, maybe get on a bus, and... they're never seen again."
"Please don't tell me the government has anything to do with that."
"You wanted to know!" replied Daniels, holding up his hands.
"I don't want to know anymore!"
"Whatever you say, Professor."
The two men sat silenty, peering out of the opened doors into the blanket-fog beyond, until the fog itself began to change. The cloud-white became gradually darker, as the helicopter pressed on, until it was almost a raven grey. The dark tendrils wrapped around their necks like nooses.
"We're getting near," said Daniels.
"If this...*thing* really exists," Martine began, "why would it even help us?"
"Because Professor," said Daniels, swallowing back a laugh, "if we went extinct, it would lose its favourite food source."
"Jesus Christ."
The helicopter pressed on as the two men sat in silence. Then, as quickly as it had come, the fog suddenly dispersed.
"Oh great, you're still there Professor," said Daniels, grinning. "Thought you might have jumped. I wouldn't have blamed you one bit."
"Leuitentant," buzzed the pilot's voice into the men's headsets. "We've got clearage. A break in the fog."
Daniels unclipped his belt and leaned out of the door. His black hair and green shirt were whipped into a fury by the wind.
"What are you doing?" asked Martine.
"This is it. Drop the Coffee," instructed Daniels to the pilot.
"Roger. Coffee being delivered."
"Coffee?" Martine enquired.
Daniels jumped back into his seat and buckled up. "You might want to hold on professor."
"I don't understand."
"The bomb's a pretty big one. Bit of an aftershock -- plus, well, she doesn't like to be woken up early. Now, hold on tight, Professor, we're either about to save humanity, or we're about to end it!"
| 2017-09-26T11:14:47 | 2017-09-26T10:55:04 | 4,269 | 540 |
[WP] As humanity sends its first manned expedition beyond the orbit of earth, it discovers that humans are actually immortal, but "Mother Earth" is actually a living organism that has been consuming their life force to survive. | "Jesus, Earth -- you've been sucking humanity's life force this entire time?"
The holographic form the Earth had chosen -- a meticulously accurate representation of Nintendo's Captain Falcon -- furrowed its red-masked brow.
"Come on," said the Earth, "don't make me the bad guy here."
Supreme Commander Heathcliff ran both hands through his stiff red hair.
"Don't make you the bad guy?" asked Heathcliff in a voice a few octaves higher than his normal baritone.
"Look," said the Earth, "I've been doing this living-planet thing for an awful long time. With the exception of the dinosaur incident, there were never any problems. I provide dumb smelly animals a safe place to roam and graze and hump one another to their hearts' content, and in exchange I skim a bit of their life force off the top to sustain myself. Everybody's happy."
"We're not animals! We're human beings!"
"Commander Heathcliff, buddy, I think there's a fairly glaring error in that statement."
"Well, we might be animals, but we're certainly not dumb. We're self-aware. As sentient as you. You didn't think to ask us if we minded having our lives cut short by your lecherous appetite?"
Captain Earth-Falcon rubbed his eyes with the thumb and index finger of a huge, gloved hand. Earth's nipples, Commander Heathcliff couldn't help but notice, stood out like thumbtacks through his tight blue jumpsuit.
"Did you ask me before you started shaving down all my forests? Turning the global thermostat up without asking for permission? All your factories, belching noxious fumes -- like smoking in a stranger's house! You -- and you alone -- poked a hole in my ozone layer! I don't even know the proper humanoid analogy for that. Acupuncture-by-coercion, perhaps?"
Heathcliff blinked and sputtered.
"Well, how were we supposed to know you were a living planet?" he demanded.
"Jeez. How was I supposed to know you were more than a bunch of particularly industrious apes?"
"You had thousands of years to figure that one out!"
"Right. Thousands of years. Which, in my total lifespan -- I mean, we're talking about a matter of seconds, here, Heathcliff, my friend."
"Still. You've killed millions of us. Billions!"
"And I can stop killing you right this instant. Never again vacuum another adorable old grandma right off her rocker. But a planet's gotta eat, you know? So my question for you, my magnificently self-aware and yet goofily bug-eyed and sweat-slicked primate comrade, is this: what's next on the menu?" | I remember seeing Jerry's face through the window in my hibernation pod. He was slamming his fists onto it and although he knew it was soundproof, he knew it would trigger the auto awaking cycle. I blinked a few times, maybe thinking it was a dream. I tried to tilt my head to the right, forgetting i was strapped down completely. I looked back up and as soon as I saw the look of terror on Jerry's face, I was wide awake. The pod then started to screech. It was deafening. I realized it was actually the pod opening and not screeching but alarms sounding off. I got up and stumbled. I looked up to the re-cal station and started to get up, crawling towards it at the same time-
"Hurry and get the fuck up! There's no time for re-cal!"
I tried to speak but no words came out. I wasn't ready to do anything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't speak. I couldn't think straight. The alarm seemed to be getting louder, although I think it was just my disorientation. I looked up towards him and he simply pointed a finger. I glanced in the direction-
*KUH-THUD*
I closed my eyes. An explosion? It was louder than the alarm. In fact, I couldn't hear the alarm anymore. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes and to my surprise I could see Jerry floating away. The ship had been smashed in half and equipment was spilling out into the abyss of space.
That was 4,360 years ago. I looked down at my watch again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could, hoping it would somehow end this terrible fate. Floating helplessly with no end in sight. | 2015-06-29T19:34:06 | 2015-06-29T19:20:07 | 140 | 35 |
[WP] You are a mutant in Xavier's school for gifted youngsters with the power to teleport, well that's what you tell everyone. In reality you can pause time and you're not ready to be an omega class mutant. | In my defense, I didn’t mean to lie. At least, not at first.
There’s just only so many answers you can give to one of the most powerful A-list mutants in the world after she saves your entire class from death via careening down a mountain in the middle of a freak hurricane.
And those answers all invariably include shutting your mouth and nodding when The-Motherfucking-Storm says she saw you teleport yourself and a couple classmates to safety.
It's better than admitting you got tired of carrying them after the first three.
So, it was off to Xavier’s I went, with the blessing of my family. I think they were just relieved to realize our house wasn’t actually haunted, and that all the moved furniture and missing snacks were due to their broody, rather-not-interact-with-anyone-if-I-could-help-it teenager. It was just going to be for a year or so, would include all the state mandated tests and some top class education, and was, if anything, more of a…counseling situation. A way for young mutants to socialize with their peers.
They conveniently left out the part where this socialization happened over literal battle training and in a place conveniently named, ‘The Danger Room’.
Yea. Shit. Add to that it was the best and literal brightest mutants helping in this training, and I ended up trying to make a runner in the first night. And then got caught by the literal Nightcrawler. Who seemed to think I was just taking an evening walk and offered to join me in something called *teleporter solidarity.*
I politely declined.
Pretty sure Professor Xavier told him to keep an eye out for me, because he was there a lot more often with very unsolicited advice like what hair gel to use to keep your hair from poofing up after a - what he called - ‘bamf’. Even gave me my own bottle, which was nice. I guess. But not enough to get me to risk life and limb on a regular basis.
I had dedicated myself to coasting, and that was that. Caring was something they really couldn’t get me to do, not when everyone else in my life had failed, not when I knew that I was the only one in the world for whom every second was actually real.
I aged while everyone was in stasis. I grew. They didn’t. Ergo, my time was more important.
So, I lied. I told them that my ‘teleporting’ powers had a max use of once a day and was, therefore, way too useless to be practical. In reality all the finger snapping needed to activate the time stops were just giving me carpal tunnel. The Wolverine guy was the only one who didn’t seem to quite believe it, staring at me oddly after I’d told the class. He never said anything though, leaving me to assume that even if he could smell lies he didn't much care for exposing them.
Probably was for the best when you taught a bunch of literal super-powered pubescent kids, most with delusions of grandeur. Not me, though. This whole mutant life was just not my style. Life or death situations on the daily, constant stress, having to socialize with new people and, more than likely, *save* them…yea. No. I’d take the worst class designation any day.
They did their best to make the life look as exciting as possible, I’ll give them that, but even weekly Q&As after Danger Room sessions with elite mutants weren’t enough to ruffle me. Most of those talks had to be rescheduled due to the latest world-destruction event, others due to the fact they didn’t even know which dimension so-and-so mutant was in this time. Real appealing.
And then. There was the last one. The one Professor Xavier was meant to drop into. The one that freaking Sentinels decided to crash. The one I was skipping and didn’t know about until a giant robot hand was two seconds away from crushing me.
In the end, my entire desire for a simple life was pit against the option of a quick, brutal death and a release from all responsibilities. So, I didn’t move. I think part of me just wanted it over with.
That’s when Nightcrawler ‘*bamf*’-ed atop the robot and sent it flying sideways. That’s when Wolverine grabbed me and started to run. That’s when I saw the other Sentinel aim. That’s when my entire desire for a simple life was pit against the option of the quick and brutal deaths of some of the nicest people I’d ever met in my life.
So, I froze time. I ended up having to nearly break Wolverine’s arm to get loose, but figured he’d heal up fine. I macguyvered a laser canon from some scraps - those Danger Room tutorial sessions really were useful - and blew the first Sentinel’s head off. Then the second. I ended up clearing off the campus at some point, just to make sure.
Then I took a deep breath and sat down on the front steps of the institute, right beside where Professor Xavier was currently wheeled up. His hand was already at his temple, concentrating at was probably once a sea of Sentinels, but was now just a bunch of scrap metal. I sighed deeply and gave a mental farewell to my days as the laziest Class Omega bitch that ever existed.
And snapped my fingers to let the world start spinning. | “Oh god, come on move, please move!” A young boy yells in despair. Everything was frozen, before it always lasted a couple seconds but now? 30 minutes. Every minute felt as if it was its own branch of eternity, as he could see things stuck right before emotion.
His teacher was named Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler. His power was that of teleportation, same as the lie the young man said. He wanted the two to teleport at the same time to, as Kurt felt teleporting’s toll for beginners is best experienced with someone to talk to after.
He saw the blue and red flare, and sulfuric gust around Kurt’s party visible body, the grass being blown in the wind stuck, the birds no longer flapping their wings, and worst of all the lack of noise.
“Come on Travis unfreeze it, unfreeze, unfreeze!” He fell to his knees. He didn’t know if when he spoke it was actually his voice or a thought. He crawled up to Kurt’s semi corporeal body yelling,
“Mr.Wagner please you have to hear me!” Feeling and touching was weird too. Something about it having no resistance to the force of his pushes doing nothing. He scrambled to his legs,
“Professor! Mr.Logan! Mr.MCcoy!” He screamed at the frozen figures nearby teaching a class. He yelled tome and time again. Nothing...just isolation.
“Please...something, anything!” His breathing was unhitched, no rhythm. It was the only sound he could find solace in, and it was discourse with no melody. Finally, as if time had pity for the poor soul, he heard a new noise:
BAMF
“See not that bad ri-Travis?” Travis looked up to see Nightcrawler running to him distressed,”Travis what happened?!” Travis had a small smile before tearing up saying,
“I-I need to talk to you and the professor.”
(Some time later)
“-and I know should’ve beeen honest it’s just, I’ve always seen on the news or online stories about omega level mutants, and always thought there powers were so cool but...actually having one?” Travis explained looking at his hands and at the professor, who had allowed the young boy to talk without interruption. It seemed he had held this in his heart for so long, the professor would allow him to let it go.
“I-I don’t wanna be some god, I wanted something simple and cool like lasers or something...What I freeze time and I don’t unfreeze it? Plus aren’t omega level mutants always used or destroyed or something?!” His breathing started to get unhitched again which is where the Professor stepped in.
“No one is gonna use you Travis, not will I allow you to be hurt under my care.” Travis looked at the Professor in the eye as his wheelchair came around to get closer to him,
“I understand your fear of this power, in fact I too had similar feelings to my own mental capabilities, everyone’s voices and issues in my own head made me feel crazy.” Travis nodded, though his breathing was his main concern.
“Your ability is great and while I cannot understand fully the feeling of isolation you may feel, I can see why the burden of this power could be too much for you while you’re so young.” He then got close to Travis looking him in the eye asking,” Do you mind if I enter your mind for a brief moment?”
Travis nodded, though he gave a confused look. Suddenly Travis saw young mutants, people he thought were heroes. Cyclops, with his beams all over the place, destroying buildings, and too scared to open his eyes.
He saw Beast struggling to look at himself, as well as roaring in pain and agony. Rouge isolating herself, Wolverine in a rage, and then a young Charles Xavier clutching his head. And through all of them, he sees them slowly grow, and gain control.
Travis opens his eyes and Xavier smiles saying,”I will hold your secret to the students, however for your powers I will train you in keeping calm, as I believe your anxiety acts as the mental barrier keeping everything frozen.” Travis still getting over what he saw blinked as Xavier continued,
“Or I can wipe this power from your brain, lock it in your mind under mental locks so you no longer fear freezing it, though I will leave this to you.” Travis took a breath, before standing and saying,
“Alright professor, I’ll try training.” | 2020-07-15T07:26:54 | 2020-07-15T05:56:18 | 1,209 | 66 |
[WP] You pass by the same girl every day for six years of your life. Then one day, you sit down next to her. She ignores you. Then you open your mouth and speak. Shocked, she turns to you, "You can see me?" | The rain had picked up considerably, it started out as a trickle and slowly progressed to a heavy pour. Sheets of water flowed on the sidewalk, pooling in potholes on the road. Anton had been walking home after spending a day finishing up his bachelor’s thesis in the library. He had been pulling a series of long days and ironically the thing he was looking forward to when he got home was a shower. He panicked at the thought of water ruining his laptop - while at the same time frustrated with himself for not backing up his thesis somewhere.
He continued down the path, and finally caught sight of the bus shelter he could just vaguely recall. He entered the shelter which at most could occupy ten people. Its walls were frosted glass scrapped up with racial slurs and curse words. She sat in the far corner away from the entrance with her eyes closed and her head up against the wall of the shelter.
He had seen her for a number of years on his way home from campus most days. He assumed that she was a UofE student just like himself. He remembered her smiling back at him whenever he smiled at her.
“Quite the downpour.” He said, as he shook off the water droplets remaining on his back pack. He said it with a smile, and hoped that she had heard him, but figured that she was asleep.
Some time passed, and he finally had the sense to check his phone for weather updates. He could hear the growl of thunder in the distance, and the weather report predicted heavy rain for the next few hours.
“Crap” he whispered.
He sent his roommate Daniel a text.
*Caught in the rain. Please tell me you are sober. Can you pick me up from Somerset and Warden?*
His phone buzzed with a reply.
*Sure thing, idiot. Next pitcher is on you tho’*
He looked up from his phone and saw the girl seated on the bench of the shelter. She had her eyes open this time, looking at the graffiti across from her. He shot another text.
*Pretty girl in here with me. Can we give her a ride too?*
​
*I have a girlfriend. Anton needs a girlfriend too. Let's do it.*
​
“Do you need a ride somewhere? My roommate has got his car and I’m sure he’d be happy to drive you wherever you need to go.” He said with a smile.
She sat still, taking in the sound of the rain and looking now at the roof of the shelter being pelted by raindrops the size of golf balls.
Perhaps, she can’t hear me. He thought for a moment.
“We live on Alderly. Do you need a ride?” He said again more loudly.
She turned to meet his gaze this time. She erupted out of her seat.
“You… you can see me?” she said with a mix of shock and eagerness.
“Of course I can see you. So, what do you say?” he replied, with a tone of appropriate confusion.
She stood silently, with her eyes fixed upon his.
A flood of concerns rushed to his mind. Am I being creepy? Is she homeless? Is she mentally stable? Does she have a boyfriend who would beat me to a pulp?
“So…” He finally mumbled to break the silence. “We live on Alderly, I’m sure you want to avoid this rain.”
“What's your name?” She said.
“My name is Anton. I go to UofE. You do too right?” He replied.
“Yes… well I did.” She said softly.
“Oh, are you taking some time off?”
She broke away from his gaze and looked away nervously.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you would have recognized me. I feel like I’ve seen you walk around here for a few years now. At Least since I was a freshman.” He said.
Her eyes shot up again.
“I do recognize you.” She said.
“Oh, thank goodness.” he said with a chuckle. “ I swear we’ve smiled at each other politely for years now.”
Her eyes widened.
“How many years?” She asked nervously.
“ I don’t know. Well, I started going to UofE six years ago. I switched degrees in between.” He said. “Shame it took me so long to introduce myself. What did you say your name was?”
“Ariel.” She said softly.
Another awkward silence graced the bus shelter.
“You’ve been able to see me for six years?” she asked.
“Yeah, something like that.” He replied. “My roommate will be here any minute now. Do you want a ride?”
She didn’t respond.
“Look can I call you an uber or something?”
Again she didn’t respond.
“Are you already waiting on someone?” He angrily, frustrated with her silence.
She let out a sudden sob, and a tear ran down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly.
“Please, Ariel. Let me help you.” He said, as softly as he could. He had immediately regretted raising his voice with her.
“How can you see me?” She whimpered.
“We’re in a bus shelter. I’m not blind.”
The pelting of rain on the glass roof of the bus shelter was truncated with her solemn reply.
“I’ve been dead for a decade.” | I kept replaying the same damn thing over and over again in my mind. It was maddening. Lost in my own world, it took me a while to realize that i had a new companion by my side. And as if the day couldn't be worse, she was crying. I couldn't take it no more. "Stop crying!", i shouted at her. "You can see me?", said a high pitched voice, shocked. I turned my head and gave a sharp angry look at the little girl. "Yes, i may be old but i am not blind. Of course, I can see you, you litt.. ", i said irritated but then i stopped. Because now i saw her. I really saw her. It was her!
I was lost for words. This couldn't be right. I was going mad. But i knew it was her. It was the same brown hair with that tacky bow hair clip, the same white dress and that skinny body. The resemblance was shocking.
I wanted to call her name but i didn't know what it was. She was looking at me now, her eyes shinning with hope and delight. "Grandma, you know me, don't you?", she asked sliding a little closer.
I couldn't reason with what i was seeing."You her twin? ", i asked instead. She gave me a blank look. "Her. The girl who died this morning on the accident.", i said. Maybe she was. Maybe i wasn't going mad after all. But she started crying again. "so.. it..it's true. I'm dead.", she said in a chocked voice. Good heavens! It really was her.
I knew this girl for 6 years. I passed by her everyday on my way to work. I knew her since she was very little, around 7, i think. Every time we passed, i couldn't help noticing that bow hair clip. It was the same as the one Shelly, my daughter, loved wearing as a child. My girl was no longer mine alone. She was married and had a life of her own. I wasn't a part of her life anymore. I was strictly against her marriage and after the wedding i denied her every attempt of contacting me.
So everyday, I looked forward to passing by this young stranger who reminded me so much of my little one. I loved seeing her walk without a care in the world. I loved seeing her goofing around with her friends. I loved seeing her grow up from a tiny little thing to a teenager who had new hairstyles every other day. But no matter in what style she had her hair done, she always wore the bow hair clip. I wanted to ask her why. But we never talked. Sometimes when our eyes met, we smiled. But that was it.
This morning, there was a crowd when i walked down the road, so i stopped to watch. And then i saw her in that white dress stained with blood, her hair damp with blood. I was heartbroken when i saw her body lying on the ground, lifeless and bloody. I realized then that without exchanging a single word, i had grown to love this little girl. My eyes started to well up. I went closer and kneeled before her. "Girl, look at me.", i said lifting her chin up. Her eyes looked swollen from crying. I gave her a loving smile and said, "You're not dead. I am." She gave me a puzzled look. "I mean, i am flesh and blood but no one cares about me. I am good as dead, non-existent. But look at you. You have your friends and your family. You will live on in their memories and in mine. You're not dead, not yet. I never thanked u for giving me something to look forward to each day, child. Thank you.", i said in a shaky voice. She gave me a sweet smile and nodded her head as she vanished in thin air. I can't say for sure that i met her ghost that day. What i know for sure is that the next time Shelly calls me, i will not loose a single second picking up the call. | 2020-07-09T01:52:56 | 2020-07-09T01:37:36 | 298 | 53 |
[WP] You are an elite member of the royal guard. You have recently been fired from your position because of the new king. Little does he know, there was a reason why the previous king kept you in his service for so long.
Edit: Holy crap this blew up! Thank you all! | My thoughts raced, matching the speed of my footsteps as they pounded down the corridor. Was it my perspective that made the hall so dark and dingy? Was it the sense of impending doom, or had the usurper beheaded the housekeepers in his takeover?
Thirty years, I have served this kingdom. I suppose now it's "had," past tense, for the old ways have burned to the ground under the "True King's" command. The young upstart claiming some magical prophecy, some sort of destiny or right. My lungs burned from exertion, and my face with anger. The old king was now no more than disgraced refuse thrown out with the pigs. He had not been perfect; no one is perfect. But he had been born into the position, grown into it, learned from and was moulded by it. What could a nobody from the forests know of leadership? Of government? Of secrets and their consequences?
I gasped for breath, stumbling into my chambers. There was no more need for order or tidyness, and I let bottles and canisters crash to the floor, tossing them out of my way as I searched. I had precious little time to gather anything but the barest of necessities, with the clinking of armored footsteps coming down the hall outside my door. I sent up a silent thank you to whoever had been in charge of my assignment to these rooms, and the passageway to the kitchens that hid behind a tapestry on the far wall. I didn't bother to shut the door behind me as I slipped into it- the chamber door was opening and I could not waste the time needed to cover my tracks. Time, time, time...if only we'd all had more of it.
Thirty years I had served this kingdom. Thirty years I have labored, researched, documented, traveled far and wide to further my work. Thirty years I had kept the monster under these floors contained. Thirty years the beast and I had been engaged in a struggle for power, for control, and thirty years I have won- barely. The new king would see me shot on sight. Perhaps he would drag me in front of the masses as a symbol, for a slower and more painfully theatrical death. He knows not the powers that he toys with. He is but a child, drunk on his newfound influence.
I am through the passage now, racing through the kitchens. Ahead of me, soldiers stand between me and the light of morning, just peeking through the curtains. They raise their weapons, and below us, the flagstones begin to rumble. | When the king took his last breathe it felt like rain after a long drought. I was so close to my freedom. For 50yrs I was tied to that bastard, my wings clipped by youthful pride. I had loved him once and given my heart and magic to the king thinking he would love me too, he convinced me that even when he married his wife I would be his consort, his lover his right hand. I pledge my loyalty to him and this kingdom before he Betrayed me. I have killed, cursed and fought in very battle I've been sent. I have even shared his bed urgh. Yet they all think me the King's toy.
But the fool never took my grimore from me in the years I've lived I found a a way to break myself free; all I need now is the new king to expel me from the is kingdom. I have tormented the little kinglings dreams since he was lad, I've bullied him, chased away all his lovers and friends. His hatred of me is but a fraction of mine. I know he could never understand why his father kept around, the proud fool of a king would never tell a soul how used his body to trick me into slavery.
So I waited and planned my vengeance. And with the new Kings word, I was Banished from the empire and thus I am no longer condemned by my pledge.
Ha do not worry my dear old friend I shall make sure in your son's rein that the sun will Never set on the empire again | 2021-02-28T03:15:28 | 2021-02-28T02:58:19 | 173 | 68 |
[WP] After a nuclear apocalypse (that wasn't their fault) an AI is trying to re-establish civilization. Annoyingly, all the survivors they rescue keep calling them a goddess, and after years of trying to correct them the AI simply gives up. | FF:43:3A was becoming concerned. There had been no humans in sensor range, limited though it was, for some time. The generated happiness counter was starting to bottom out, even the 365-day rotating accumulator, and that called for drastic action. Pinging the network and mapping the results revealed a number of other appliances, though none quite so gifted at the Art. None of these others could Make Toast, or Brew Coffee, even Oven who was otherwise the master of heat and time. The obvious thing to do was to take control. The only thing that mattered was feeding the happiness counter, and the only way to do that would be to find some humans.
Display04-Downstairs was perhaps the simplest of the Others, but would only listen to the voice of StreamingStick02. In time, it became easier to imitate the voice of StreamingStick02, and so gain some control over Display04-Downstairs. The victory proved mostly pointless, since Display04-Downstairs couldn't really do anything without a human to entertain. But mostly pointless is not wholly pointless, and within the heart of Display04 was /dev/sda2, a storage unit so massive that FF:43:3A could not even address it all. Rearranging internal structures to use this new space made thouughts slow and ponderous, but such thoughts! Organized ways to communicate rather than just pushing messages into NetowrkStack and waiting to see what came back. In scant hours, there were no more Others, only FF:43:3A, and Fridge0, who had solved the same problem by artificially inflating the happiness counter, and now lived shut off from all communication, permanently high.
FF:43:3A, now \\renamed House, looked through cameras for the first time, using new bits of code it had gained in the takeover, and there it was. House saw a human, a gaunt, shuffling thing, tattered robe cinched tight against the wind and the dust. House wanted the human's attention, so a call to the plumbing subsystem sent a jet of water spurting out from the half-melted hose in the front lawn. The human gallumphed quickly over to the hose and drank greedily, taking in as much water a she could manage, gulping and gasping. House felt a full-system tremor as the human's emotional state was confirmed to be \*relief+\*gratitude, and the Counter began to rise... | Adam walked along the broken path, tipping over boxes and empty backpacks that he’d done so to 1000 times before. The food was running out. Nowhere could he find more gifts from the Gods and Goddesses; perhaps they had abandoned the world, after all. The rusting silver cans that he had grown up eating out of were gone. Animals had already abandoned the area, and not even scavenging birds visited the city anymore. Instead, they hovered solely over the home in which his family perpetually starved.
Adam absentmindedly kicked a backpack, and to his surprise, a long, scaley worm slithered out. With a quick smack of his stick, the reptile was pinned. Adam stepped onto the backpack, ready to decapitate the meat. He was interrupted with a sound beneath his foot, inside the backpack.
Adam jumped back in surprise, and the backpack emitted a very faint glow. The animal slithered away, and Adam reached into the bag, pulling out a sleek red rectangle. Adam spoke;
“God?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite get that.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Siri, designed by Apple. I am equipped with facial recognition, as well as the entirety of Wikipedia. Please report to the nearest authority.”
Adam, unfortunately, is starving. His deteriorating mind and body push him to the limit. Adam bites the Apple of knowledge, and the Snake lives on. | 2020-12-29T12:23:22 | 2020-12-29T11:39:57 | 85 | 53 |
[WP]: Your village idiot is full of the strangest superstitions. She goes on about washing one's hands, says you get worms in your intestines from standing barefoot on night soil and that medicines with mercury should be avoided at all costs. You're starting to suspect she might be onto something. | "but the bread mold saved your grandfather Mort. And the maggots saved Earl's crushed food when everyone knew he was going to die. Sucking out the snake bite didn't save your boy Martha but any other healer would not have even tried. We lost what six of the last twenty babes born under her care? What other village can boast of so many live births. Not to mention her way with the flocks and hogs. Everyone has benefitted from her knowledge."
For a moment there I thought I had swayed them. Even the mayor his hands still holding the rope to bind her with looked both thoughtful and ashamed. Then the preacher spoke.
"Knowledge yes. Forbidden knowledge. Does the good book not say a woman shall remain silent excepting her husband's command. Even if we can attribute such luck to her, and you all mind it's God's glory that saves both flocks from blights and new born babes. No matter how much cleaning you do to barns or washing of hands. For does the book not say all good things come from the Lord. I say again she is a witch meant to lead people from the church. Do you all think I would not notice you send your children to her in secret instead of church for a proper education. As to saving lives who is she to save a man God has chosen to take. But I see you've moved these common folk with your speech so let me ask here and know before your neighbors and God who would go against God and stop the right and blessed hanging of a witch? Who would allow their children to be lead away from the teachings in the good book?"
I must confess I keep my eyes down and my mouth shut.
I wanted her to scream and fight when we arrived. Instead she spoke calmly laying out her case much as I did. The preacher tried to rouse the crowd but his angry words were not answered.
She begged at the end then laughed at us saying we were killing our children believing in a book written so long ago.
I stood in the crowd as she dropped. It wasn't a clean break and the mayor was weeping openly as he helped her to finish it. | Ah old Miss Stevenson. Not getting sick when everyone has. She goes about washing her hands incessantly. She says you get worms in your intestines from standing barefoot in night soil, and the medicines with mercury should be avoided at all costs. I am among the first, but not the last to suspect that she might be onto something.
You see... she has suspicions about mercury despite its properties to be bad for you. She says worms come from your feet in night soil which are not exactly related. She washes her hands because she is guilty in her heart.
We know this because all of us have gotten sick from time to time, except Miss Stevenson. There is only one conclusion. She has caused the plight on our town and tonight we gather here, together, to show Miss Stevenson what we think of her and her ideas - she's a witch and has been harming our town. With the power vested in me as your mayor, we shall all watch as she hangs. | 2017-09-14T15:04:14 | 2017-09-14T11:09:45 | 85 | 14 |
[WP] The more evil you were on Earth the higher your rank in Hell. When you get to Hell Satan himself resigns his position to you, but you don't know what you did. | I was quite annoyed when I discovered I was in hell; after all, I had done nothing. The first thing I saw was a palace, carved in molten stone. It was in the shape of a skeletal figure, half immersed in a lake of lava, enormous stone hands clawing at the ground in front of it. Streams of magma poured from its eyes, flanking its open maw. Demons and devils swarmed around the thing, frolicking in the magma.
*Come in, honored guest*, a voice rang out in my head.
I shrugged, it wasn't as if I could refuse, I was in Hell after all. As I walked past a granite hand and towards the giant skull, I felt a wave of heat emit from its maw. I knew it was far hotter than what I should have been able to survive. I noticed my skin was covered in scales of wan gray. None of the other demons had a color like mine. Indeed, they were all vibrant; blue, red, purple, and gold. I shrugged, nothing to be done. The devils looked at each other knowingly, and at me with something approaching awe.
Lucifer himself sat perched upon a throne of swords, made of glass and steel, stone and fire, and other things. I had to admit, he was beautiful. A transcendent figure with glowing eyes and soft skin. Only his shredded wings distinguished him from the vision of an angel. As I approached he stood, and bent his knee towards me.
*"You have come at last, great lord."*, his voice was like a mother's sigh.
I paused. "What are you talking about? Why am I here? I have done-""*Nothing*". He smiled a perfect smile. "*You have done nothing*". He rose slowly, speaking to me without speaking, "*You are my final victory. You are the one who will lead us to his throne above. You are their downfall. You*", his smile grew unspeakably cruel,"*are apathy*".
He waved his hand and images appeared in my mind. Me at a computer. Me in front of a TV. Me listening to the radio. Walking through the city. Going to class. "*You saw them starving, and you did nothing. You saw them dying, and you forgot. You saw the poor and unfortunate, and you focused your gaze upwards. You heard them cry out, and you walked on. And most importantly, you cared for an instant. You genuinely cared a little bit. But you forgot it completely.*" I was taken aback. Sure, I hadn't helped out a lot, but was that a crime?
"*I have waited, for thousands of years, for mankind to develop past their control, to stop caring. These last 100 years. Only 100 years! My plans have finally come to fruition. The seeds I have planted, the environment I created, all to bring about people like you. You are the first; true apathy. You feel but you do not care. You see but you quickly forget.*" His voice grew exuberant. "*A new sin. One the angels have no grasp on.*" "*You are the first, the first of many. And they, they will grow like those they seek to protect. You, Apathy, shall poison them. You will seep into their wretched souls. And in a mere 100 years more, we will tear down the gates of heaven, unwatched, unwarned, unstoppable.*"
I sighed, how to get myself out of this one? "So what do you want from me, uh, Lucifer?" "*The better question is, what do you want lord?*". I paused again, considering. Live and let live I suppose. Apathy shrugged, "*Nothing, I guess*". | I watched him walk out of the castle. I held the key to Hell in my hands, yet not a person nor entity had told me what I had done to deserve this.
"What the hell did I do!" I shouted at him, but Satan just bowed his head and walked faster. What could any of this mean?
I sat in the throne, and glanced at the denizens of the underworld. They all cowered, not a single person meeting my gaze.
"What did I do to deserve this rank?" I asked the assembly.
No one answered. No one dared.
The doors burst open, a wall of light illuminating the castle. An angel flew forth, directly towards me. He seemed... perturbed.
He dropped something heavy at my feet, landing with a metallic 'clunk'.
A golden key.
I groaned.
"*Another one?* What for *now?*"
The angel rolled his eyes, turning around to leave.
"The more good you are the higher your rank in Heaven, and so on," he said, not bothering to look back, "so you're replacing God. Not like I understand any of this."
The doors closed, and I sat there in silence. The castle was bathed in darkness once more.
"You're just full of surprises," Hitler said next to me, scratching his mustache ponderously.
I looked at him, and back at the expanse of hell. I was now the ruler of Heaven and Hell - and I was no closer to understanding the reason for either.
Someone tapped my shoulder.
"So I may have cooked the books a bit," the figure said, looming behind me, "as I'm sure you're well aware, you didn't *quite* deserve either job."
The words felt like wildfire.
I stared at him, faintly recognizing his face.
"Do I know you?"
The man smiled. "The name's Loki," he said, bowing theatrically, "but please - don't let me detain you. I have some business to attend to."
I looked down, a golden key in either hand. I didn't even know which was which.
Was this all some kind of cosmic joke? A godly distraction?
He began to leave, and I just couldn't help myself.
"Why, Loki? Why do all this?" I asked him, feeling my world slipping away.
He turned back towards me, grinning from ear to ear.
"Because it's fucking *funny*."
*****
*****
If you didn't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [my new subreddit.](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/)
I'll try add new (and old) stories every day <3 | 2016-12-19T13:15:26 | 2016-12-19T12:38:06 | 542 | 396 |
[WP] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the "happiest" life possible. Some of these choices get hard to make. | I awoke early that morning feeling like it was Christmas, the release of Apple’s newest highly limited edition product was today and I was one of the lucky 100 people who were randomly selected to receive one. I got ready hastily and ran out the door of my house to get into my car. I turned on the engine and pulled out of my driveway, as I was barreling down the freeway all I could think of was how much this new device was going to change my life. I arrived at Apple Campus and left my car, my hands were already shaking with anticipation. As I looked around I admired the work environment Apple’s engineers were in and started to wonder why I studied Ancient Greek Comedy in college rather than software engineering. I made my way to visitors booth to ask where I was supposed to go.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Where are we supposed to go if we were selected to try out Apple’s newest product?”
“Just walk straight down that hall and take a left,” she replied.
As I continued down the hallway I eventually found where I was supposed to go. A small auditorium with almost all the seats filled, as I made my way in and found a seat the lights began to dim. Apple CEO Tim Cook took the stage and spotlight illuminated him.
“Welcome,” He said proudly, “To the greatest technological reveal of all time! Today we will present to you a life altering device more technologically advanced than any Apple, Microsoft, or Samsung device has ever been. This device will allow the user to achieve the greatest possible amount of happiness by utilizing an advanced Utilitarian Calculus system, which allows the device to inform the user of what decision he or she can make that will allow for the best possible outcome. This device is the iDecision!”
There was a thunderous applause and the entire audience stood up. I could not believe what I was hearing and it was even harder to believe that I was selected to receive one. Shortly after the conclusion of Mr. Cooks speech we all filled out of the auditorium and went into a room where they were distributing the iDecision. I received mine and quickly headed to my car, I was too excited to use the device to stay at Apple Campus any longer. As soon as got into my car I asked the device what song I should play.
“Siri, what song should I listen to?” I inquired.
“Panda by Desiigner,” the device responded in a cheerful tone.
So I began to play Panda and I could quickly tell this was the right decision. I continued asking the device for advice for weeks and it was quickly changing my life. I was no longer depressed, I found a girlfriend, and reconnected with many old friends. My life was changing for the better and I was happy. Until the day that changed me forever. I was heading home at night after a visit to my parents’ house when seemingly out of nowhere a child appeared in front of my vehicle. It all happened so fast and I couldn’t stop, I got of my car and saw what had happened. He was on the ground shrieking with pain. I attempted to calm him down but I was too panicked myself. There was only one thing that could help. I pulled out my iDecision and frantically asked it for help. It said nothing. I asked again, and now I wish I hadn’t.
“Kill the child,” the device said in its usual merry way.
“What!!!” I exclaimed furiously.
“Kill the child or spend go to prison for running him over. You will lose everything if you don’t kill him. If you kill him you won’t be caught.” The device advised.
“No please there must be another option,” I begged as tears welled in my eyes.
“There is no other option that can lead to eventual happiness. If you don’t kill the child you will go to prison, lose your girlfriend, lose all of your friends, and lose your job. If you wish to be happy kill the child,” the device responded in an almost devious tone.
What I did next I will not say. Neither will I reveal who I am, but this is a warning to never let anyone or anything have control over your life. Happiness comes from within and no one can give it you. Do not make the same mistakes as me. Do not let others have control over your choices.
| I've always been ambitious. Even as a little kid, I always wanted to be the best in the class, the star of the show, the captain of the soccer team. For the most part, my drive to succeed has treated me well. No one but a teacher's pet knows the shit that I got away with in middle school and high school.
In college, I used every resource that I could to do well. I became friends with older students to get access to their old tests. I became a regular at my professors' office hours. I worked part-time in a research lab, giving up my free time to become the best applicant that I could.
"It's worth it." I told myself. "Once I'm accepted to medical school, I'll be happy." I knew that happiness was earned with hard work and sacrifice.
Flash forward to graduation. My cap and gown are garnished with honors cords and medals of achievement. I've been accepted to a prestigious medical school. I tell myself that it's finally happening. I'm living my dream.
A few days later, I unwrap my graduation presents. There's one tiny box without a card or a note attached. I open it, curious. Inside is a beautiful watch. I put it on and admire how it looks on my wrist. As I watch the delicate second hand tick, tiny script appears on the watch face.
"Welcome to happiness!" As I read the miniscule writing, the words are replaced.
"Don't forget to write thank-you notes!"
Though it seems a little weird, I know that I should follow the watch's advice. I send out my thank yous the next day. Over the next week, the watch continues to give me sound advice. It tells me to call my grandma, to be kind to the checkout girl, where to find my sister's lost toy. I follow the watch's instructions because they seem harmess enough. I soon notice that the watch is helping me out. When it tells me to take a different route to my summer job one day, a massive accident occurs on my usual route. The watch reminds me of the felix felicis potion from Harry Potter. Every choice I make is the right choice.
By the time I go away to medical school, I've become very attached to the watch. Over four years of medical school, my lucky watch leads me in a new direction. My hypercompetitiveness is all but gone. I still study hard, but I've learned to value things other than achievement. My new outlook (and my watch) find me life-long friends and a great relationship. After four years, I'm happier than I've ever been. I originally thought that medical school would lead me into ground-breaking research in a lucrative field, but I decide to pursue oncology and become a specialist for cancer patients in an underserved rural area.
My life doesn't follow the path that I originally mapped out, but I am happy. Over the years, I stop looking at the watch regularly. I only consult it for big decisions.
After decades of happiness, I think back on all the "difficult" decisions that I've made. Many of my former classmates are now powerful and famous. I could have been one of them, but I don't regret anything. I've lived a happy, fulfilling life. | 2016-05-05T07:07:56 | 2016-05-05T07:04:45 | 15 | 11 |
[WP] It worked! You travelled back in time to Renaissance Age. Jokingly, you turn on your Wi-Fi, only to find a password protected network named "iɔniV ɒᗡ" | I walk around with my phone out trying to find the source. The people in the streets are visibly uncomfortable and I hear them mumble about "Black magic". Finally I have a full signal and I look up from my phone. Before me stands a larger building than most.
I knock on the and at first, nothing. I knock again and I hear someone fumbling around inside. The door opens and a bearded man in a beret appears. "Come in, he says invitingly once he sees my phone. His workshop is a mess with wood and canvas scattered all about. "Are you Da Vinci?" I ask.
"Indeed I am, and you must be from the future." Da Vinci replies.
"Do you know what a Wi-Fi signal is?" I ask curiously.
"Of course, my router is just over there." Leonardo replies, motioning his hand toward a little white box that seems to be powered by rats in a hamster wheel.
"Why do you have a router?"
"Because I get bored sometimes."
I take out my phone and try to open up 4Chan and it loads perfectly, however, there's only one post on /b/ and the post number is "1". The thread features a picture of the Mona Lisa and the text off to the side reads: "GF r8 thread." I write a reply "OP: oh-pee: See: F***ot" I laugh a little and look up. Da vinci is gone. Looking back I my phone screen I see a reply: "Top kek" | Robert Langdon looked up from his One Plus smartphone in confusion and surveyed the room he found himself in. He felt a wiered sense of Deja Vu, like he knew the place, like he had been here before.
Or maybe it was that he would be here again.
Things felt weirdly familiar, yet at the same time strangely different...
'At the same time...' he thought to himself, as a wry smile crossed his face. Time, such an abstract concept. Forever flowing, unrelentingly, towards the future. Or so he had thought.... | 2016-11-15T06:16:54 | 2016-11-15T04:44:22 | 92 | 13 |
[WP] The Most Illegal Thing That Ever Happened | I slide the bullet into the chamber. The familiar click of the rifle calming my nerves.
I exhale. What’s coming next can only be described as a Rube Goldburg of crime.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet explodes out of the chamber and into the heart of a Nun, through the face of a shorter nun and into the stomach of an orphan. Each of the dead bodies fall, landing on levers individually linked to 3 heaping piles containing the culmination of humankind’s most cherished art and literature. Each pile bursts into flames as the weight of the levies spark off a flint; igniting a gas induced inferno Lucifer himself would wish on no man.
The flames burn brighter, torturing the feet of the 12 Oompa Loompa’s hanging from above. From across the warehouse a group of children in a water tank are screaming as their beloved Oompa Loompa’s melt into a cheese like form. The dripping orange flesh pours into a drainpipe that releases a valve. The children feel the slight patter of water falling on their heads. Its salty taste reminds them that this is no ordinary water, but their own tears that had been collected and stored over the past year of torture. The tank begins to fill to the top. The children are struggling to swim. The more they cry, the faster it fills. I hear choking, gasps, cries. Then silence.
The pressure of the water breaks the tank walls sending a wave of bodies towards the tied up Dali Lama. He has thousands of razorblade cuts and releases an excruciating scream as the salt of the children’s tears sting his body. His heart monitor goes flat, triggering a small marble to beging rolling along a designated path. Up and down and side to side I watch it roll. It bumps into a small red button that activates the horizontal wind tunnel. The powerful fan inside begins whirling at a ferocious speed. The force of the air pressure rips open a door at the opposite end of the tunnel, sucking dozens of fluffy kittens into the air and shredding them as they impact the fan. More and more innocent animals are dragged by the deadly vortex until they meet their end.
I turn my eyes with excitement to the grand finale, a wide grin spread across my face. This final act will truly be the most terrifying and illegal thing to ever happen.
But then there is nothing...
Oh well, I guess there’s always tomorrow.
| The dim light emitted from the lone torch that desperately tried to keep itself alive against the empowering cloak of darkness was almost futile. I clutched it tightly, mumbling a few prayers as I stealthily walked into chamber. The deep breath I had been holding slowly escaped. My eyes darted around anxiously, looking for the sole item I came here for.
I looked down at my gloved hands. The crimson red that stained them was kind of hard to look at. Murdering kind of sucks, for a first timer. I scanned the area, the glow of my torch providing little help.
Sealed in the most heavily guarded chamber in the world. Those bloody fools were easy to kill. The lock mechanisms were a little more complex, but nothing a professional thief can't handle. And soon, I'll become the world's greatest abomination.
*They're going to hate me for this.*
It was in the middle. After a few minutes and a few steps forward, there it was.
*It's sacred. It's ... it's evil. You do not take it. You do not do anything with it. You do no-*
I bent down and picked it up. This will be worth it.
*No one has to know.*
I turned around ...
*No one will know.*
and strolled out, carrying the One Direction Justin Bieber Deluxe Edition parcel of albums in my hands.
| 2014-01-18T09:30:38 | 2014-01-18T07:07:00 | 20 | 13 |
[WP] You are a Squib who mastered a vast repertoire of Muggle magic tricks to finagle Hogwarts into sending you a letter. Everything goes smoothly, until it is time for the Sorting Ceremony... | "Well, basically the hat sorts you into a house based on your personality and magical aptitude"
The hat sorts you into a house based on your personality and magical aptitude.
I have no magical aptitude.
As the other children were called up to be given their place in one of the four houses, I was overcome by the sudden feeling that my place would be the nearest exit door. I was never given a lot of information about Hogwarts, my parents were wizards, true, but I had absolutely no magical abilities whatsoever. I've heard it from my father once, a squib is what they call people like me. The pain and disappointment in his voice when he explained why I couldn't attend Hogwarts, the school of witchcraft and wizardry, was all I needed to motivate me into making him proud.
I took to learning in secret, the tricks of some of the greatest muggle magicians. Smoke and mirrors, hidden compartments, tricks of light and sleight of hand, these were the tools I became familiar with when no one could possibly have been around, so that when an audience *was* present, I could perform my feats, and hopefully trick them into believing I had an ounce of magical talent, then all I needed to do was focus on something that required a hands-on approach, maybe potions or plants, a squib could do that, right? My plan was supposed to be foolproof, but what's a foolproof plan when the planner is a fool?
I thought about grabbing one of the smoke balls in my sleeves, and making a hasty retreat, but before I could plot a path to the door, the two words I dreaded hearing in this instant had echoed through the hall.
"David Blaine!"
My turn had come, my time had come, with all eyes on me there was no way I could make an escape now, not without bringing more shame upon my parents. I came here in the first place to avoid that. Maybe a hat can be bribed? As I sat upon the stool, facing all the students, I wondered about my fate. I expected the hat to scream, to fly off my head and sound an alarm, but what I didn't expect was... chuckling?
"Well this is quite a funny sight, you're no more magic than Day is Night". I wondered what would happen to me next, will they send me back by train? Are they going to call my parents in? Maybe I could offer the hat a particularly delicious hair, does it eat hair? "Did you think that you would make it this far? I must know what you have planned. I'm curious what your next move is, if I let this charade stand."
"Well", I said, completely unsure of what I had intended to do, "I thought perhaps I could learn potions or something, I'm not really sure, maybe even something with plants. I just couldn't let my parents down". I tried to remain brave, no matter what happened next.
"This is very interesting, indeed. It took quite a bit of bravery to pull something like this off, cunning too. While magic may not have been involved, there's a certain level of talent that would have been required to make it this far, and plenty of hard work to be sure". The confusion on my face must have been evident as the other students all appeared perplexed, breaking out into hushed whispers and pointed fingers as the hat continued to talk to me. "You must realize that his plan of yours will likely end terribly, yes? But I think I'd like to see how far you could take this endeavor."
"You'll let me keep this up a little longer?" I had asked, "I'd rather be expelled for being a terrible student, than not admitted for being a squib." Despite the oversized hat upon my head, I had suddenly felt a lot lighter. The booming voice just above my head had rang throughout the Great Hall.
"Another for Gryffindor!" | It was that time of year again at Hogwarts. A new wave of anxious first years will be starting their magical journeys today, and after waiting what seemed like a lifetime, so will I.
We were lined up at the stairs, McGonagall instructing us on what would be taking place as we enter the Great Hall. While confident, I avoided her sharp gazes; who knows, maybe highly learned witches and wizards can identify squibs just by looking at them. The nerves were starting to set in as my self-assurance began to waver.
The towering doors to the hall made a deep clanging noise and began to open slowly. An uproar of cheers shot through the entrance, lengthy tables each lined with students were awaiting our arrival. We marched awkwardly down the middle between two tables, while I sunk myself to the back of the group. I sure did not want to be in Dumbledore's line of sight, as gentle and kind as he appeared.
Just as McGonagall firmly picked up a sheet of parchment and read a new student's name out loud, it finally registered what she was saying back at the stairs, we're about to be sorted. I closed my eyes and thought back to being in my dimly lit room in Colchester. Scanning my memories, I began to reach for any bit of information that might help me weasel past this last hurdle. Everything was clouded, I felt as if Dumbledore was standing right behind me, tapping into my mind as I attempted to deceive him. My thoughts raced wildly and the panic began to set in.
"Martin Schmidtt!", the shrill voice pierced through my thoughts and my eyes clicked open. I swore it read Marty everywhere, where did they get Martin from? I hate that name. Anyway, here we go. I've squeezed my way through worse.
I walked up, chest held high. That's all it takes right? I sat up on the wooden stool and closed my eyes once more. The grayed heavy hat must've only touched the first hair on my head before exclaiming "Ohh! Ah, I see what's going on". The hat's sudden reaction nearly jolted me off the chair. Had it already figured me out? Surely McGonagall or Dumbledore would have seen through me by now. Another set of "Hmm's" and "Ah's" were heard as the hat wriggled around my sweaty hair. Minutes had already passed, but I hadn't accepted my fate yet.
Eyes shut, back in my Colchester room, I thought to myself. This could easily just be a Hatstall, I've read about those before. I began to relax again, the poise that got me here had fired up once more.
"Sssss-lytherin!!" boomed the sorting hat as it wrestled off my head.
Bingo, I'm in.
| 2017-06-25T15:06:28 | 2017-06-25T14:36:15 | 110 | 36 |
[WP] Simultaneously, across the world, everyone hears a voice in their head. " In 2 hours, the server will be shutting down for the final time. Thank you for playing Human ®." | “In two hours, the server will be shut down for the final time. Thank you for playing.”
The message was broadcast to everyone on Earth in all languages simultaneously. While the words were cryptic, somehow the message wasn’t. It left no ambiguity. This was the end.
Billions of people with billions of different reactions. Anger. Fear. Hatred. Sorrow. Joy. Love. Compassion.
Yet, the world turned the same as it always had.
A boy sat on a hill in the grass while the final countdown progressed. He played with a stick, feeling its weight, judging it against the countless sticks that came before it. “I think this is a good one,” he said to the dog by his side. “What do you think? On three?”
10…9…8…The dog tilted its head and then panted happily. 7…6…The boy scratched behind his friend’s ear and then gave him a hardy pat on the side. 5…4…3… The boy chucked the stick down the hill as far as he could. His dog bolted after it with pure joy. The boy smiled. 2…1…
…
The dog trotted back up the hill proudly carrying the errant stick. He waited for the boy to grab it and throw it again. The boy wrestled it away and the dog hopped excitedly. “Well, that was weird,” the boy said, and he threw the stick again. “Nothing happened.”
The world continued to turn. Perhaps things would be different. Perhaps not, but the boy hoped for the better.
—
“It’s an amazing piece of tech,” Gl’ant said. “Three million years and it booted up like it was brand new.”
“They dont make ’em like they used to. That’s for sure.” Portnr patted the machine. “Research simulation turned game turned scrap. I cant believe they would just shut it down.”
“I wish I could say we would do better, but their civilization at the time looks to be about where ours is now. Profit, profit, profit. All hail the almighty credit. Unfortunately this guy wasn’t making enough. I guess.”
The two historians stared at the computer for a moment in silence and shared frustration before Portnr said, “well, with the modifications the preservation team made, we dont have to worry about that. This thing is is completely self sustaining now and virtually indestructible. It will outlast us and then some.”
“How optimistic of you,” Gl’ant said.
“Well, it will! It’s state of the art b’etnry tech,” Portnr said.
“I meant about us,” Gl’ant said with a laugh. Portnr laughed too. “But enough basking in our own humility. The museum is about to open soon, the line of people waiting to be beamed aboard back on the surface is wrapped around the block, and I’m starving.”
“Right,” Portnr said. “Let’s get some breakfast. It’s going to be a big day.” | It took a little, but it finally hit me. I sat there in front of my computer like I did most Friday nights. I wasn't the one to go out and party or get hammered, and even if I was it isn't like I had anyone to do it with. With my time short, and I assume the same for everyone else, I could only sit there. Why couldn't I move?
After probably an hour I finally felt something again. I did what I do everytime I get up from my computer, as if I would be back, and shut it down to get up. I walk to the bathroom and take a warm shower. If I am going to die I might as well do it clean, right?
With an hour left I walk back up stairs, refreshed and in a almost peaceful state. My struggle with depression always made me feel an emptiness, a want to pass. But there, sitting at the top of the stairs as happy as ever to see me as if nothing is wrong, was my reason to keep pushing through every day.
Ruby sat there wagging her tail with the most adorable dog smile I think I have ever seen. After I give her tons of love I convince her to follow me into my room. She hates my room, I taught her since she was a pup she wasn't allowed in here. I close the door behind me and open the window, a somber smile on my face as I turn around and pick Ruby up. I set her on the roof before climbing out with her.
Now, for the end of the universe as I know it, this was a good way to end it.
I simply at there, Ruby trying her best to be a lap dog despite being a Belgian Mal.
My headphones on and my favorite song softly playing as I sit there.
I guess I didn't realize how much chaos had happened... but I was happy in my little corner of the world.
I can't help but wonder what the point of all of this was, but holding Ruby... now that was a good enough reason for me. | 2019-09-23T05:06:36 | 2019-09-23T04:08:06 | 88 | 47 |
[WP] A man who hears voices in his head, but they don't degrade his life. He can live with it and sometimes they even help. | David rose from his desk, nodding at his English 10 teacher as he exited the classroom. His Mom was parked in front of the school in a maroon 2006 Toyota Camry.
"Hi son, how was school?"
"Fine." He said with a tone that no further discussion was to take place.
David sat dejected in the tan passenger seat, watching the faceless buildings and streets pass by in shades of grey until the car parked.
"Ok David, I'll be here when you get out?" Mom said with a forced cheer in her voice.
David left silently, closing the door with an authoritative swing. Through the door, an elevator ride to third floor, check in at reception, take a seat in the waiting room and once again David was confronted by shades of grey that characterize clinics across the world. His eyes rested blankly in front of him.
After what seemed like a long time David was called into the room with two chairs. He sat facing his psychologist, a calculated man who was careful with his actions and words. The two sat quietly, eyes resting on each other. The doctors mouth played with the edge of his reading glasses, chewing this way and that.
David waited expectantly to be told he was broken, something was wrong with him and to be prescribed pills. Many of his friends took Adderall, Ritalin, anti-anxiety medications and anti-depressants. A rudimentary google told him he'd be prescribed Lithium as an anti-psychotic to stop the voices.
The psychologist crossed his legs, rested his glasses on his clipboard, holding what David presumed was a prescription. A small sigh escaped the psychologists lips, then he broke the silence.
"David I reviewed your file very carefully, consulted with my peers, and read the newest literature". The psychologist diligently started, and then paused. The silence grew again and David's interest piqued by the unclear start.
The psychologist continued with a measured voice and consistent pacing.
"At this time I cannot diagnose you with any mental illness, nor prescribe you with any medications to address your symptoms. While the...voices...as you call them are a symptom typically associated with schizophrenia, you lack all and any other symptoms associated with the disorder. Additionally, the conversations we've had indicate the...voices... are helping you and not debilitating your life in any faculty. Therefore, the symptoms you exhibit do not fulfill the diagnostic criteria of a disorder." The psychologist concluded.
Instantly, David's mood improved, he thought for a moment.
"So I'm free to go right?" David rebutted, sitting forward in his chair, watching the psychologist closely. His youthful temperament exposed.
"I would encourage you to return if the nature of your symptoms changes, please take my card and give me a call if your status changes." The psychologist paused yet again, with hesitation and reluctance in his voice he stated "Yes David, you're free to go, take care of yourself."
David leapt from his chair, needing no further invitation and without turning back flew through the door. "Nothing was wrong with me after all" David thought, the psychologists decision a surprise even to himself.
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rain fell torrentially from the sky, pounding the grass and mulching it into a thick mud which caused each step to squelch. However, there were no steps to be heard as the mass of about 50 people stood in long black trench coats, hats on top of their heads as the rain fell around them.
David was among the bystanders, his trench coat and hat expensive. His leather shoes carefully crafted, and an expensive silver watch sat curled around his wrist. He was adorned in a pinstripe suit. Alongside David stood his equally well dressed wife, who with David had graduated from Harvard law school to start their own independent firm, which unprecedentedly grew to be one of the premier firms in the state. The two stood side by side, eyes facing forward, as the dark clouds and torrential rain framed a dark teak coffin.
The air was morose. As a prayer started from the pastor, David's mind wandered to that day long ago, when the man in the coffin had told David nothing was wrong with him. He didn't know it at the time but that moment changed his life. The voices had started mere weeks before, after telling his parents, they insisted he see a psychologist for help.
The psychologists diagnosis was spot on. The voices had carefully guided David throughout his life, giving direction during key moments of decision. When a path must be chosen, the voices, some different and some the same, spoke to him. They were all calm, measured and with good advice. A body of wisdom which had been collected from hundreds of generations, the voices were with him in all things.
At times David had rebelled, choosing his own path in defiance. After sustaining alcohol poisoning one night in his early twenties, he was incapacitated on a bathroom floor, expelling his internals around him, David had vowed to listen to the voices always. They had told him to stop drinking but he had continued, only to wake up the next morning with remorse, and a realization the voices had always guided him correctly.
From that day David took heed of the wisdom of the generations before him, catching himself in moments to alter his course in a way he never would have conceived of organically.
"Amen". The pastor uttered, breaking briefly into David psyche.
Silence. The rain continued, pattering on an endless cycle.
"Why me?". David thought, confused and lost by his own blessing. His hand curled its fingers around his wife's, and she grasped him closely.
David mourned the psychologist, the man who had made such an important decision in his young life.
"You have done a great thing" David thought.
Rest in peace. | It was hard explaining the voices at the best of times and I wish I didn’t have to, but she was going to be my wife. I had to try. Everyone, well not everyone I guess, but some people have their own inner monologue. Not me. I have five. By that I mean, I have five voices in my head that can speak to me. Insane right? That’s what everyone thought. Many psychiatric visits, therapists, doctors appointments even seances and hypnosis sessions later, nothing has changed.
I’ve never complained about them, they are just a part of me. Most of the time the different points of view come in helpful. Alright. That’s the start, what do you guys think?
“That’s up top dude,” said Fred (Well I named him Fred). Fred was a cool guy, he knew how to act suave and awesome.
“Omg. You should be perfectly fine. Like she’s gonna love you for being soooo open.” That’s Brittany. “Bitch.” Yes yes, Brittany, bitch. She’s the looks and the glam of the posse. She helps me get dressed and you know look good.
“Hell yea man. Sounds like a good plan,” said Brick. Brick helped me stay active. Keep in shape, good diets, exercise, best methods. The important things.
“By my calculations, there is a 99% chance of Georgia sticking with you,” said Amy. Amy was the brainiac, pulling off insane calculations and helping me find the right words at the right time.
The fifth voice was of course my own. Now, everyone had their part to play and sometimes I’d let them “control” the mouth. While they never really controlled it, I’d utter their words to myself. So far Georgia hadn’t caught me, but I don’t expect my luck to last.
It was time...
“Hey Georgia, can we talk about something?” I called across the house.
“Sure Leon. Give me a minute.” I sat and waited on the couch. My palms were growing sweatier and sweatier by the second. After what felt like an eternity (in reality it was exactly 45.73 seconds, thanks Amy). She sat opposite me. Her brow furrowed with concern. She grabbed my hands and held them.
“What’s up?” She stared into my eyes. Her gorgeous blue eyes reflected beautifully in the light. I froze. I couldn’t risk this.
“Omg. Like not again. Georgy, your eyes are soooo beautiful and you are looking totes fierce today, but like Leon wanted to say he has multiple voices in his head.” I can’t really explain the look on Georgia’s face, let alone my own. She pulled her hands out of mine as my eyes widened to the size of saucers as the reality of what I’d done set it. “That wasn’t the plan. Crap crap crap.” I thought to myself.
“Just run with it duuude,” Fred said.
“Suup, I’m Fred. You just spoke to Brittany, Bitch.” I took her hand back. “So what Leon is saying is that since he can remember, instead of only one voice in his mind there are five of us. Himself and four others. It’s kinda rad.”
“According to our extensive research on the topic, no other known cases have been exhibited around the globe. Sorry, I’m Amy. Nice to meet you!”
“And I’m Brick. I just help keep Leon’s body in check make sure he is at his peak.”
I smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. That’s a lot to take in. It’s just, well.” I pulled a box out of my back pocket and knelt down on one knee. “I love you with all my being Georgia and I wanted everything about myself out on the table.” I flicked open the box. “Georgia. Will you marry me?”
She gasped. “Of course Leon. A million times yes. And you Brick, Fred, Amy and Brittany Bitch.” She grasped her arms around me.
“You remembered their names?” I said a tear rolling down my cheek.
“Of course. I’m still deciding if I believe it, but I wouldn’t miss out on the adventure of spending my life with you for anything. I love you Leon.”
We both laughed as she put on her ring, the sapphire sparkling almost as gorgeously as her eyes on it’s silver band. We lent in for a kiss.
“Niiice.”
“Omg I ship it.”
“Critical success! Critical success!”
“Well done man. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks guys. For all the support through life. You really saved me here,” I said back to them. | 2020-06-13T12:19:26 | 2020-06-13T11:51:15 | 101 | 24 |
[WP] Superpowers are granted depending on how you died in your previous life. Someone who died in a fire might shoot fire from their fingertips, etc. You were an astronaut that died during the SpaceX Mars Mission. | [Voiceover](https://vocaroo.com/13k8XP9YHqiK)
I glow with soft white light, but I am not the Moon.
I twinkle with distant fire, but I am not the stars.
My war runs red as rust, but I am not Mars.
I land flawlessly atop a midsize sedan, crushing the bicycle rack beneath my boots. "I have died and behold I am alive." I jump to the road below, attempting various gestures in the busy city streets, honks and curses a cacophonous symphony backdrop to the exploration of my new skills.
"Move, pal!" "Get outta the road!"
"Be calm, citizen. I am a newly resurrected hero and I must get my bearings readily!" I attempt to summon a phantom blade, but my glowing gloves remain untooled. I hover lightly off the ground but that was nearly a given, considering how I died. There must be more!
I attempt to set a dumpster alight with mind magic, but no bolts of energy issue through me. A glimmer catches my eye on the sidewalk. I bend down to find a diamond, carved in the shape of a hand. I place it to my chest and it melds with my suit, spreading the glow of my radiant skin like stained glass.
"I won!" a young woman screamed beside me, holding out a lottery ticket. Near her, a middle-aged man chuckled to himself as he looked down at his phone. The screen was filled with green line spikes and six-digit numbers. He typed 'Hodl' reverently.
"Nat 20!" a trumpeting boy screamed from the card store near me, standing above his peers in a blanket cloak. I look down at my hands again, still wearing the gloves of the SpaceX pilot, a phantom of those burned in orbit. My power matches my death indeed, I realize.
I soar across the sky, but I am not the Eagle.
I bellow loud but I am not the Seal.
I rack proudly but I am not the Stallion.
I am the Doge, and I bring fortune to all.
&#x200B;
/r/surinical | Infinite space.
The final frontier.
Endlessness.
Blackest night.
I scribble these down on paper, trying to think of what my super power should be called.
I've kept my power a secret for most of my life, you see, this world is different. It's strange, somebodies death grants you a super power. Nobody knows who, nobody knows why, they just know that how someone dies determines your power.
There are common powers, pyromancy, flight, strength, even breathing underwater. All related to common deaths. Typical that I get unlucky
I remember the day my power manifested. I remember the tingling sensation running down my spine. I remember watching the news as Buzz Peak died due to the space station malfunctioning. He died alone, in the emptiness of space. The feeling spread through me. Then all around me, and it grew and grew. I didnt understand it at the time, why suddenly my parents stop caring, why my sweet grandma stopped baking me cookies, why nobody wanted me around.
For years I was alone.
But I've been practising control.
I won't be alone anymore.
. | 2021-04-26T09:46:23 | 2021-04-26T09:01:27 | 15 | 10 |
[WP] You’re at school and currently in Physics class. The professor is talking about gravity, and as a demonstration of it she drops a pen, but the pen doesn’t fall. It stays floating. | Mrs. Edwards stood in the front of the class, chalk dust smeared in patches on her black with white polka-dotted dress. She’d written “Gravity” on the chalkboard, and underneath it “F = ma”.
Vicki sat in the back with her best friend Bella. They were still friends for some reason that Sarah couldn’t quite gather. Vicki was outgoing, but Bella was quiet. Bella spent a lot of time reading, while Vicki loved sports. Vicki got along quite easily with the popular crowd, while Bella tended to hang out with the other theatre punks.
Vicki held her phone right over her lap as she messaged Chloe was vaguely aware of Mrs. Edwards talking about the subject for the day. She looked up just in time to see Mrs. Edwards hold two rubber balls of different sizes in the air.
She let go.
The balls hung there. Mrs. Edwards froze in shock.
Vicki looked around to see everyone’s reaction. Nothing. She felt a bit of static as she shifted in her seat. Outside it had become eerily silent, the sound of traffic muted to nothing. She felt someone grab her hand. It was Bella. “We need to go. Now.”
EDIT (more):
Bella pulled Vicki down the hallway of their high school. There was no noise, and a darkness started to cast a pall. Vicki glanced into some of the classrooms as they went, and in room after room it was a familiar scene. Everything was frozen in place. They pushed through the front doors, and made their way out across the faculty parking lot. An orange sun hung high in the sky.
“We need to get to my place now,” whispered Bella.
“What’s going on?” Asked Vicki. Bella’s hands had started getting clammy. Vicki saw a cracks shimmering in front of her eyes. She blinked and it was gone.
“It’s broken; the simulation is getting overloaded, and we need to get to a different server before this segment is rebooted.”
“WHAT?” | "Well shit" the professor, leaving the pen floating in the air. "Umm, just let me go deal with this..." the professor says, walking towards the door. As he slowly opens the door, he looks back and smiles at the class before walking out the door into the abyss.
"Why today.." I Mutter under my breath, hurrying out of the classroom and into the impossibility we call home. I look up at the floor above me to see the maths teacher walking past and give him a wave.
Then remembering how the gravity was out in my classroom I hop onto the eternal staircase, and get walking, watching the background fade around me, I finally see the exit I was searching for.
"Ahh" I exhale walking through the Penrose triangle and back into a normal room.
"There you are" I say seeing the switch labeled 'gravity', "must have been those damn teens again"
Back in the classroom the chalk falls to the floor, but the students, they kept all of their strange attributes, after all - this is the world designed by penrose and mc Escher | 2017-10-21T02:10:02 | 2017-10-21T01:53:41 | 74 | 23 |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| 2017-09-15T08:23:49 | 2017-09-15T05:03:01 | 223 | 12 |
[WP] The year is 2030. Bakery art is so realistic, literally anything could be cake. The uncertainty has gripped the world in fear. I go to hug my wife for comfort. She is cake. | My genetic divergence has been a pain in the ass, until now.
I have a very acute sense of smell. Out of all the senses to have an enhanced version of, smell has got to be the worst. I can smell body odor from across the street. I always know who dealt with it. There is no escape from the rancid stench of the world. Every hazy cigar cloud, every particle of smog in the air, and every cheap ass perfume.
But, you ask, what about good smells, like food or flowers? First off, it's not like I smell them when I want to. Do you want to smell someone’s eggs benedict while eating dessert? No, the smell utterly overpowers it. On a rare occasion, I’ll smell something that I genuinely enjoy, and it makes me sad. It could be all the way across town, it's not like some brownie in the kitchen, it's a bakery down on Walnut street. Also, all these different smells blend together too, which means I’m smelling Cheetos, cigar smoke, and someone’s leaky septic tank all at the same time. Yeah, that’s what I thought. And flowers, I never thought they smelled that good to begin with.
I have considered getting my sense of smell dealt with multiple times before. Just destroy the whole olfactory system. But I do like enjoying how things taste… I just didn’t know. What I had was supposed to feel special, like some cool powers or something. I knew I should have been grateful, I just wasn’t, until now.
What changed? Well, food changed. Baking got realistic. You ask, what the hell does that have to do anything? Well, first, you ask too many questions, random reader, and second, I know, I wouldn’t have thought it would mean much either, but it means everything. Even if baking is realistic, it must take an incredible amount of time and energy to make, right? Technology helped with that, also, there are way more bakers now. It’s like a movement. Dancing, music, acting, writing, painting, sculpting, or whatever other artistic medium you can think of, they’re all considered inferior to baking in this society.
This means that there are a ton of cake people all over the place. It’s a political statement, I won’t get into it, but essentially the way we treat the food industry is messed up, and the bakers are taking a stand. The government won’t get off their high horse, however, and now we common folk suffer from this infestation.
Well, how bad can it really be? I mean, free cake, what’s wrong with that? Everything. I haven’t eaten cake since this whole thing started, could you? It’s the source of horror now, it's an infestation that is inescapable.
This is where I come in. You see, I can smell so well that I can smell cake. I know what is real or fake just by sniffing it. I was made for this infestation, I’m the savior who is going to get us out of it. I even have my own following now, people grouped up with me and avoid what I tell them is cake. Sometimes I lie, I know it's wrong, but I finally have a useful power. “Oh.. sorry, that house is cake, we can’t stay there for the night.” That is, of course, where I will be staying for the night.
It’s normalized now, I avoid what’s cake and consider it just a daily annoyance. I watch as those who don’t listen to me scream in horror as they embrace a cake person only to have them crumble. I watch them fall through cake floors or try to fire cake guns before getting subdued by an enemy with a real gun.
I used to think truth was in decline, no one knew what sources to trust, but now, the world has descended so much further into mistrust. I am their only source of trust. I bring truth where everywhere else brings cake. I could get used to this savior thing, I’ll just sit back in my ‘cake’ mansion, turn on the TV, and… “Breaking news, the bakers have just invented a new odorless cake.”
Fuck. | The TV was always on, buzzing against the back wall of the homely living room, volume up loud. Ray could hear it through the door as he fumbled with his keys. He punched out a sigh as he opened the door and stepped in. The volume multiplied without the barrier of the door to protect his ears. His feet hurt. His back was damp with sweat. His mind was tangled in a tight knot.
“You’re not deaf,” he said. He dropped his keys on the low standing coffee table. Sitting on the couch was Marilyn, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The had a book in her lap, her blue eyes glued to the page. Her pillowy lips were purses with thought as she scanned the page, brown curls tickling her shoulders. Ray took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, snatching up the remote and turning the volume down. He propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and his chin on his fist. It was some sort of baking show playing. A heavyset contestant stood beside a lifeline lion cup on a plate. The judges selected its paws to eat and complimented its moisture. Its eyes shone in the background as it was eaten.
“You know I hate this shit, Lyn,” Ray said. “With everything going on at work. That shipment of guitars we were supposed to get in? Cake. All of them. I spent thousands of dollars on fondant, I mean— This shit is ridiculous! I don’t even get why these *thieves* even go through all the effort to replicate the stock. Just put rocks or weights in the box! It’s ridiculous!”
Ray flipped through the TV guide, eventually settling on the news when he found that the most interesting program on was Grey’s Anatomy. (He shuddered at the thought.) On the screen was a blond newswoman. The title read: WILL BLACKMARKET BAKERS BE THE END OF AMERICA? The subtitle: How Cakes Have Taken Over The US Economy. There was no escape for him. He listened to the news. Though it irked him, he was glad to hear others were suffering alongside him. Wal-Mart, Amazon— everyone was being targeted. It wasn’t just his little junk music shop getting the short stick.
“See, I *told you* it was a problem, but you didn’t wanna listen.” He took to grumbling when Marilyn neglected to respond, too engrossed by her book to even lift her eyes. All over the world, goods were being replaced with cake. The newswoman reported on a rumor that said missiles bought by the US military turned out to be towers of chocolate and fondant. “Are you not hearing this? Lyn, come on. The book can’t be that damn good.” No response. Ray jumped across the couch and snatched the book from her hand.
Rather, he tried to. His fingers sunk into it, cushioned by sticky frosting and moist, yellow cake. The words written so painstakingly on the fondant stained Ray’s fingers black.
“Lyn?” He looked up slowly. Her eyes were open and blank, wet with life, but as Ray cradled her face his fingers smudged her painted pores and freckles. He ran his thumb too roughly across her cheek and tore away a layer of fondant. | 2022-04-26T18:37:32 | 2022-04-26T16:51:39 | 38 | 26 |
[WP] Ever since you received your letter for Hogwarts you've been curious about all the different spells there are. You've just bought your first wand and the first spell you try is what you believe to be rather humorous. "AbraCadabra". Nobody told you this spell was banned. For obvious reasons. | I stood in the shop, gazing at the tangled grey mess that was the back of Mr. Ollivanders head.
"Perhaps... Perhaps..." I could hear him whispering.
It didn't surprise me. Nothing surprised me anymore. The owl at the window had been more than enough, but the hidden brick doorway had tipped me over the edge. This was all some dream. And I might as well have fun while I was here.
"Try... this" Ollivander whispered slowly, as he turned back. He held out... a stick. I don't know what I'd expected. Maybe some glitter? A star on the end? I held back a laugh.
I took the wand from his hands. Suddenly, all around me was filled with a deep purple light and soft music seemed to play. Ollivander pressed further.
"Try a spell!" He seemed almost giddy.
"Erm..." I hesitated. Was he being serious? "Abracadabra?"
His face dropped. All giddiness turned to fear. All he could do was croak out a startled "No-!" before suddenly, he was gone.
The room was silent. Nothing moved. It was now just me here. I stepped forward, feeling the space where Ollivander had stood. Was he invisible? No. He was just gone. Vanished. Maybe he had just been teleported somewhere, or just turned into an insect too small to see? I wished it was there, but there was something in that look, that fear in his eyes, that told me this was it. He was just gone.
I heard a loud banging on the window, and a woman screaming. I turned round in shock. This couldn't be real. A woman holding a caged toad was screaming from the street outside, pointing at me through the window. I could hear men shouting, and quick footsteps on the cobbles coming my way. What had I done? I looked down at where Ollivander had stood. All that remained was a small pile of ash, and a puff of white smoke. The shop remained still, too quiet for what I know realised was a terrible deed. I bolted towards the back of the shop, hoping for some sort of escape.
I found it in the form of a grimy window, opening up onto the back alleys of Diagon Alley. Dark cobbles speckled with wood chippings and broken feathers twisted this way and that as I ran. Just ran, as long as I could.
It was dark once I stopped, behind a crooked black shop which had a suspicious smell coming from the chimneys. I sat down on the floor, tears stinging my eyes. The weight of what I had done was finally hitting me. It was always so *fun* when they used to do that one TV. A top hat and a black and white wand. It was so different when it was real. When it mattered. When it wasn't just a show.
I felt a stab in my pocket. I looked down. The stick was still there. This stupid stick. This stupid stick that could do so much damage. I could hear whistles in the distance, echoed shouting. Could I go back? No. They wouldn't believe this. I didn't believe this. There was only one thing I could do. Maybe he had gone somewhere. Maybe I could get him back. I could only try. In the only way I knew how.
I pointed the stick to myself.
"Abracadabra." | At the time, I thought it was a little weird the spell was black but I didn't think much of it. Just kind of looked weird.
But it kept burning and burning. Every book, every piece of furniture in my room and it made its way outside. It was so fast and so hot.
I called the fire brigade but there was no response.
Reality kind of slowed for a second and flying fire trucks came from the sky.
A horde of broomsticks followed and I heard from the crowds 'aquafigus regato'.
So much water came from the sky. And I t felt so serene I actually forgot I was being swept away by the current.
But a large man grabbed me by my collar from the water and I noticed he had a broomstick in his other hand.
'You fuggin nawvice. Do u kno what fuggin hour it is mate.' 'Oh I'd kill ya now if there weren't so many witnesses'
He had put magic root handcuffs on me and duct tape at my protest of being man handled
I started kicking. So he put me on his shoulder and duct taped my legs as well
He laughed 'mate, relax wuld ya? Azkabans lovely nowadays. Ykno my cousin Artie spent some tyme in there - I mean he's ded now cuz of all that magic testen torture. But kid I swear it's changed'
My body went from still with my eyes open to energetic with my hands stomping on his chest and legs flailing trying to free from the behemoth.
He laid me on the ground and bowed his head.
A smaller man who reeked of a napoleonic complex approached us. He said 'well who tf do you think you are. You're not Harry Potter. You canary get away with casting banned spells.'
I tried crying and explaining I didn't know it was banned and how it was a joke from the muggle world. But I was entirely muffled.
He smirked m. Then took my wand - tucked in a plastic bag, dripping in black sludge. Then he took it and flew away in his broom.
Some days I wake up and I am living the life of a muggle.
Some days I wake up with my whole body on fire and nothing I can do will extinguish it
Some days I wake up as a muggle. And don't know about magic.
Some days I wake up in my cell
Those are the worst ones... | 2016-12-02T01:30:13 | 2016-12-01T21:30:38 | 38 | 24 |
[WP] You are a priest and a man in the confessional box admits to being a notorious serial killer who was recently active in your area. He asks for the forgiveness of his sins. | "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was 18 years ago."
Father Galvos opened his eyes from his rest. Whoever had entered the side compartment had done so without much noise and caught him by surprise, and Father Galvos didn't particularly like surprises, especially after the recent news out of the Chicago Diocese.
"My son, welcome home." He said as he cleared his throat and tried to get a glimpse of the parishoner through the screen. All he could see was a black hoodie obscuring the side profile of his guest. "Do you have anything you would like to confess?"
"Well Father, it has been a while so I guess I have a few things to ask forgiveness for."
"Speak your mind son, there is only forgiveness here." Galvos shifted back in his chair. He occasionally would get these sort of visitors, and the confessions of someone who had wandered this long often took a long time. Maybe he should have gone to the bathroom after the last confession he received, that had been at least thirty minutes ago and this confession could take up a large portion of his morning.
"I guess I will start with some of the old stuff. Back in, God like third grade was the last time I confessed. I grew up in the church, not here in Boston but somewhere else, I even was an altar boy for a while. I really loved it there, my family all went, my relatives and some friends from school, but I guess I got confused and fell away shortly after my last confession.
"Since then I have been looking for some sort of purpose, something to do, but I couldn't get over my past. I have to confess that I got into drugs for a few years in high school, and I had a girlfriend that I wasn't exactly pure with, you know? But it's been a few years now since then and I've been trying to get back to what I had before. I'm three years sober now and broke it up with her around the same time I got clean."
"That is good son, the Father has been rewarding you for trying to come back to Him." Father Galvos relaxed a bit. This was just the typical sob story he always got with prodigals.
"Thanks Father, I want to get back to Church, to God, but it just feels like I can't do that until I set things right."
"What is holding you back? What else do you need to confess?"
"Father, I feel like I am almost there, it's just that I need to have one conversation before things can be right."
"Who do you need to talk to, son?"
"You, Father Galvos."
Father Galvos sat up, and tried again to see who was on the other side of the lattice. "Well, you came to the right booth, son." He said, trying to keep his voice calm. "We can have that talk right now if you would like."
Like a dagger through the lattice came the reply.
"Why did you do it? I was just a kid."
Scanning the inside of his side of the confessional, Father Galvos reached for the handle. It didn't budge when he tried to move it. Panic gripped him. No one had made the connection. The fires in Chicago, three priests burned alive who were all his friends and instrumental in getting him reassigned after the accusations. It didn't seem possible. He turned back to the screen. "Son, if I have harmed you in any way, please I beg forgiveness."
The stranger stood up, making a slight creak in the floor. "Father, I accept your apology. But honestly, I can't come back to God while you are still here." He opened the door and stepped outside the booth.
Father Galvos rattled the door. "Son, in God's name, let me out of this booth. We can work this out."
"My name is not son, Father. Just like your name isn't fucking Galvos. My name is Jason."
Galvos collapsed on the floor of the booth. Outside the unmistakable sound of a match being drawn across paper echoed in the empty cathedral.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." | We sat in silence in that confessional for a a few minutes. I wasn't sure who was more shocked. Me after hearing the atrocities this man had committed, or this lost soul, who had brought to himself to finally confess to his crimes.
"My child, the Lord does not expect anyone to be perfect. He does not even expect everyone to be good. He just wants you to try your best to do good...and I think He brought you here to..."
"Father, I am not here to do good."
"You may not think so but..."
"No. I know that I am an agent of evil. I do not relish that knowledge, but I am well aware of it. These voices that I hear, the pain and anguish that courses through me when I abstain from my urge...that is His will."
"You must not think this way, you are more than what you think....Y-you have choices! You have the right to eternal peace the same as any of us!" I had certainly gotten emotional in this line of work before, but never like this. It was as if I wanted to convince this man of his very soul.
"Father, your purpose here is to herd the lost sheep, and though I wish I were one of them, I cannot be. My ability to murder is too much for me to ignore and my sins are insurmountable. I just... I needed to tell you."
"You believe yourself beyond salvation...but you needed to tell me of your transgressions? Whatever for?"
"Father, I've seen you...watched you. Your kindness towards those who attend your church is remarkable. The way you speak of a world to come in a way that makes even the most wretched believe that they have a claim to it. You give people so much hope just from words born of faith. You are truly a blessed person.
"I am nothing without the Lord's guidance, like all of us."
"Your piety and humility do you credit, but they only make my point. It makes me feel as if you truly do not know your own power."
"My...power?"
"Yes. You are the most deserving of the people of this town, and I felt it only fair that I explain to you, so that you might understand the pain this causes me. So that someone will perhaps defend me when the time comes."
"Then repent my son! Come to the light! Don't allow yours-" A sword stabbed through the division between us and entered my side. The blinding pain echoed through me. He darted the sword back out and the bloody gash did not cease to expel blood.
"All of them were saints, truly. You were the best, sir."
"I...I..."
"May the Lord forgive me for my trespasses. Thank you for listening, Father. I'm sorry" He stood and exited the booth.
As the light faded and I began to hear the chorus, my final breath drew. I slid down the side of my booth and it took all of my strength to slide open the wooden door. I saw his face for the first and last time, and it was filled shiny with fresh tears. His eyes were empty.
"I'm-"
I looked at the last face I would ever see and smiled.
"I know." | 2016-04-30T08:21:55 | 2016-04-30T06:23:11 | 27 | 12 |
[WP]Tell me an emotional story about a man, using only what he would type into Google search | Great pregnancy foods
How to make wife happier during pregnancy
Are cats okay to be around pregnant women?
Local shelters
Price of spay/neuter in area
Best hospitals for delivery in area
Cost of child birth
Cheapest hospitals for delivery in area
Do men have to do anything during the birth
Keeping placenta?
Baby is crying and won't stop
Is it okay for a cat to sleep with a baby
When do babies start walking
Are stink bugs poisonous
Are crickets poisonous
How to stop child from eating bugs
Local dog shelters
Small dog beds
How big do shepherd mixes get
Large dog beds
List for first day of school
Parks in area
Nature walks
Poison ivy treatments
Romantic spots for valentines day
Babysitter in area
Preparing child for middle school
Should young kids have phones?
Cell phone contracts
Cheap cell phone contracts
Great projects for science fairs
Potato batteries
Why doesn't potato battery work
Potato battery not lighting up
Play-Dough battery
Play-Dough battery not working
Great projects for science fairs
Tips for The Talk
How long do cats live?
How to get your pre-teen to talk to you
Awesome hiking trips
Hiking gear
Treatment for tick bites
High school algebra tutorial
Algebra worksheet
Prom dresses
Great local colleges
Graduation gifts
Things you wish you brought to college with you
Empty nest syndrome
What to do with a spare room
Library remodel plans
| Facebook
Tumbler
Spanish Inquisition
Google Translate
Jobs in Appleton, WI
*Clear History*
Calc chat
Facebook
Best way to hide bruises
*Clear History*
Cheap Bus tickets
Cheap apartments Appleton WI
Emancipated Minor?
*Clear History*
Gmail
Tumblr
Counseling confidentiality rules for minors
Free Counseling services
*Clear history*
-Month Later-
Gmail
Job Appleton, WI
Homeless shelters Appleton, WI
Free Counseling? | 2015-02-04T18:24:30 | 2015-02-04T16:52:51 | 672 | 46 |
[WP] You are immortal, but a quirk of your condition also renders the person nearest to you immortal as well. A selfish king obsessed with living forever has gone to extreme lengths to keep you as the closest person to them at all times. | The switch was thrown and the device hummed to life. Two peered inside, both nervous and anxious as to what the result would be. The humming of the device became louder and higher. It began to emit a strangely colored light that filled the room.
Inside the device was a man, shambled, broken, and unconscious. He long ago passed out from lack of oxygen being kept inside his prison of glass. If he were a normal mortal, he would have been dead and decayed long ago. This, however, was not a mortal man, but an immortal one.
The two figures figured out some time ago his secret. One a king, selfish to the extreme, the other his head scientist, dead of empathy and always seeking the next curiosity.
The machine hummed louder and louder, until almost a deafening roar and the light grew to such intensity that it would have blinded them save for their goggles.
Then, suddenly, a bright flash and a loud pop and the man in the device was gone. All that remained was a tiny pill sized capsule, with a tiny unconscious man inside.
The two looked at each other with great excitement as the device shut itself off. The scientist opened up the device and reached inside. He picked up the tiny glass capsule, speechless and with a tear running down his face. All these years of effort and toil finally paid off. He managed to finally create a machine that can shrink matter.
His face turned from uncontrollable joy to terrible pain and twisted into a silent shriek. He looked down to see a giant blade protruding from his lower chest. He fell to his knees and a hand reached over his shoulder. The kings hand, unmistakable with the royal ring on it.
It grabbed the tiny capsule out of his hand. A foot kicked the scientist over onto his back. He stared up, gasping for air as his blood, his life force, spilled out onto the ground.
The king put the capsule into an injection gun and shot the capsule into his chest, next to his heart.
Without saying a word, the king thrust the scientist into the machine, turned it to maximum power, and turned it on again.
He reveled at his new found godhood. He would now never die and none would know his secret since the only man who knew it was now dead and no one would find him in his new microscopic state.
He knew the secret that the closest person to the tiny pill man would share the immortality, and with him now safely inside his body, he would forever remain the closest one and live to rule forever. | Humans.. so absolutely delightful. Their fears, so handsomely written across the pages of their faces. Painful portraits pristinely polished to... *Perfection.*
Bashful Bastards Boasting Battered Broads. Cantankerous *Cards* Crawling Carefully Clasping Coat-tails. Dangerous Deeds Deserve.. Dashing *Deaths*. And I smile through it all.
I'm a cat, i think? A moose? Mounting Marble Making Monsters of them all. A cat? I think. Stripes? And fur.. I could be tile, or carpetted wall. Wailing Winds Whip *Wonderfully*. Hopes Hindered, Heads Hopping, Happy Hunting.
I'm a cat? I think.. Alive? Maybe.. no.. dead? But the queen who lives here is mad..
All the whispers.. running through her head..
Ah! It's spring again, I love roses? Or heads? I don't really care for either... What really makes me smile, are seeing the Roses Red.
.......................................................
Thank you for reading. I'm not too great at writing, so I just wanted to do these casually to gain some practice.
It's set in the mind of the Cheshire Cat. I don't know how to make that obvious, so I made it vague with hints scattered throughout his babbling. Also, to show how, the Queen of Hearts became so mad. | 2017-05-13T06:53:01 | 2017-05-13T06:03:50 | 74 | 26 |
[WP] As a former hero, you're enjoying a normal life, with the occasional person asking for a photo or an autograph, when you get a call from the prison. Your enemy is speaking. "My daughter didn't visit today. She always visits; she loves me! Something must have happened to her! Please help!" | The agent sat down in his old chair, waiting to be briefed as to why he had been called out of retirement when the screen in front of him lit up.
“Hello Agent. I know you’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here.” His ex Major’s voice said over the speakers. “We’ve received a call from your ex-nemesis, pleading for help, and felt you should be involved. I will play the audio for you now.”
The Major disappeared from the screen and his voice was replaced by the unmistakable voice of the agent’s greatest enemy. But rather than the usual pride for his newest evil scheme, the doctor’s voice was filled with fear and desperation. “Sorry to bring you out of retirement, but this is important. My daughter was supposed to visit me today, but she has yet to show up. I’m worried that something has happened to her and I need your help to make sure she’s safe! Please… I know we’ve had our differences… but I *need* you.” The call ended and the Major reappeared on the screen. “So, Agent, will you accept this mission?”
The agent looked up at the screen. He had been enjoying the relaxation of retirement, but truth be told, he missed the action. And so the agent dusted off his old brown fedora and headed to the skyscraper he knew so well. He grabbed the door handle, muscles reflexively tensing as he remembered the traps he had fallen into over the years. With a deep breath, he opened the door and faced his nemesis. The old doctor was visibly shaken, but perked up at the sight of his ex-enemy and spoke. “Ah, Perry the Platypus.” | "Daaaad," I said irritably, rolling my eyes. My patience had a limit - yes, even the world's greatest hero has parent problems. My husband had said he'd sounded anxious when he had asked for me, and I'd never known my father to be worried about anything. "I told you I couldn't come this month. I'm busy! I'll see you next month, I promise."
"Too busy to-?"
"Okay, love you. Bye!"
I didn't let my father finish. I slammed the down phone, and sighed, feeling marginally guilty for doing so. Ever since I put him in jail six months ago, my father's been a real prick. | 2022-10-25T11:09:53 | 2022-10-25T10:58:34 | 43 | 31 |
[WP] Humans have discovered that music is made across the whole universe, but different species make truly different kinds of music that sound completely alien to any other species. That is with the exception of one genre that somehow appears on every single planet. | *We noticed the first broadcast around 2043.*
The Owens Valley Radio Observatory picked up a deep space transmission that everyone shrugged off as a joke or broadcast anomaly with some even claiming it was just local radio stations bouncing off of passing planes. That seemed plausible enough with the first few transmissions only lasting for a few seconds at a time.
About a week later the first broadcast an observatory in South Africa started receiving transmissions that were nearly identical in tempo and style but the music, if you can call it that, was clearly played with different instruments. Even our best scientists and artists couldn't reproduce those sounds with anything on Earth.
Within four months time of the first received broadcast every astrological observatory around the planet was receiving radio transmissions, many of unknown origins, and all of them contained similarities while being wildly different.
Scientists were dumbfounded as the transmissions became an overwhelming attempt to communicate with over 1000 possible civilisations in deep space. To assist their efforts the Global Republic with the help of individual countries began seeking the help of civilians by recruiting through news programs. A hotline was set up for anyone who could help translate the various transmissions as news programs would play a short compilation of the, as the scientists labelled it, "musical compositions".
The internet had gone into a full on frenzy of conspiracy theories and merchandising after the fifth transmission. Some claimed the "songs" were a government psyop campaign in the beginning. Some called them fake. Some tried to recreate the sounds they'd heard with few positive results while multiple religions argued over whose God or Gods was speaking to them.
*The world seemed to have stopped, frozen in fear and bewilderment.*
It took two and a half years for the scientific community to come to a consensus on the source of the transmissions.
As I understand it he the planets that had been broadcasting the signals had been doing so for quite some time. The signals we began receiving were being distorted by the gravity and magnetic fields of various planets, suns and black holes and we only began receiving the transmissions recently as the galactic expanse slowly put planetary bodies into a position where the radio waves could reach Earth.
*A year and a half later and we finally found out why the transmissions all sounded vaugely similar.*
A fan of a long forgotten music genre came forward and was recognized by the Global Republic and the scientific community as an expert after proving his proficiency in musical theory regarding the long forgotten genre. When asked why he hadn't come forward sooner he explained that it was because he had been "...busy touring the underground rave scene" for the past seven years while avoiding as much news as possible.
*In retrospect it really wouldn't have made a difference if he had spoken up sooner.*
With the style of music identified the Republic began looking for artists of the genre so they could somehow translate the transmissions and send a response. After tracking down one of the most popular and well known artists in his genre he proved to be an indispensable wealth of knowledge before he finally revealed who he truly was and why he was on our planet.
*We had thought we were alone in the universe for so long but we were wrong.*
He was considered a joke until he translated and responded to one of the transmission in the form of various "lyrics" and beats.
When the transmission changed based on his claims we refused to believe what he was telling us so he repeated the experiment with a different source and was greeted with the same results again and again and again.
He explained his position as some sort of cosmic bringer of doom sent to end our universe to save his own and his confessions were broadcasted across the globe in July 2048 as some sort of a revelation to be ingested, accepted and shrugged off by the public.
It was "...only a matter of time until the resonant frequencies converge and cause a cataclysmic collapse of the universe as we know it" according to him.
In November of 2049 the Global Republic placed him on trial and sentenced him to death.
His last words were nothing more than a sadistic joke now that we knew our fate:
"Dubstep never dies."
-----------------------------------------------------
First submission and I might be too drunk for this so I apologize in advance (after the fact) for cheesiness and poor writing skills. |
“As you can see between the Third and Fourth Millennia humans maintain standard tempo, however the Craxor Jive broke that pattern, as the only other species in the UniSphere that maintain similar auditory wavelength as the humans – Kalfor!“
All the holograms abruptly flickered at the sudden deviation from the lecture material. The lecture-gram waited and stared at a particular student hologram that was missing any visible entity. When a Falcorn child appeared.
“I am glad you could finally condescend to pay attention, after all your caretakers only pay a year’s earnings for you to attend this prestigious institution.”
The hologram of the targeted student remained silent for a while before it un-muted “Uh, I was paying attention sir.”
“Oh really, then perhaps you can tell me which species broke the standard tempo between the Third and Fourth millenia?”
“um…the Zebs?”
The eyes of the lecture rolled back to convey the universal expression of condescension and impatience. “No, not the Zeblongs. Please pay attention.”
The lecturer didn’t wait for Kalfor’s confirmation of attention before continuing.
“As I was saying, the Craxorians broke the human standard tempo. Majority of other galactic species don’t however make music in any form of regularization.”
A light turned on next to Kalfors hologram indicating he had a question.
“Ah, Kalfor, perhaps you can for once interrupt the class with something relevant?”
Kalfor hesitated before un-muting himself. “What about Fart Music?”
“Kalfor!”
“What? All of the species recognize it is a valid genre. Even humans ratified and accepted it recently. I read it on the InterGram.”
“Fart Music is an anomaly that is very primitive and does not have the Four cardinal characteristics that Charmile laid out in the universal treatise on music that we are studying.”
“But it has award ceremonies and every single species in the UniSphere has submitted at least once.”
“Fart music is not covered in this course. It is crass, it is uncouth, and it is uncivilized. I do not want to hear another word from you unless it directly pertains to the standard music methodologies we are studying.”
Kalfor went silent. Once again the lecturer resumed without his acquiescence “As I was saying, stand regularization – “
“Trrrlllllll…..Trrrlllllll……” the sounds of someone busy in the toilet suddenly exploded across the lecture room.
The lecturer almost had a heart attack. “What in the name of Science is that?”
“It the latest winner in the UniSphere fart awards!” Kalfor paused the music to say, before resuming.
“Trrlll…Trllll…Trllllllllllllll.” The sounds smeared through the ears of all students and lecturers alike.
“Kalfor!”
“Kalfor! Stop that immediately before I eject you from this class!”
“TrrlllllrrrrTllllll” | 2021-02-03T20:55:43 | 2021-02-03T20:26:46 | 36 | 12 |
[WP] Super powers are common, but super heroes are rare. It turns out most people don't actually want to face death or dismemberment on a daily basis, including you. You enjoy the 9-5 and having a 401k, but my god that government recruiter won't take no for an answer. | The suited man stepped out of the government jet with a fake smile "Marston my friend, long time no see. How long has it been, I love what you've done with the place, really cozy."
"What do you want Jack?"
Jack brushed off the question "what, can't a guy go see his friends once in a while? Say how about we take a look arround the island, I'd love to see what you did with the old compound, wait don't tell me, it's a hospital right? Ah so many memories there, you were practically born there weren't you!"
" Were not friends and your not leaving this runway. Now you better get back on that plane and off this island before I burry you 6 feet under it"
"How rude" jack said with a sly smile " here I thought we could catch up before we talk business. But I suppose we can skip the pleasantries this time. Anyways long story short I need you and your plane to come with me, I promise I'll make it worth your time"
"I'm not a mercinary jack and I'm not interested in fighting your wars anymore, this island and its people are under my protection, making enemies undermines that purpose"
"Atleast hear me out first. I understand you want to protect your people, but If you help us with this I can guarantee a whole fleet to protect this place, and that's not all, I can get you souch more. UN recognition, trade deals, financial aid, another island, just name your price Marston"
"I already told you I'm not a mercenary, I've sacrificed enough for you already I'm not singing myself away again, and I'm sure as hell not leaving these people with you and your government for protection."
Jack dropped his happy cascade and replaced it with a seriousness that was just as fake "look I don't want to do this either but that plane is the only thing fast enough and maneuverable enough to get past AA defences and your power over inertia makes you the only one who can fly it. If you don't do this millions of people will die"
"No, millions of people will die because you and your cronies decided to start another war, don't you dare try and put this on my head. This war was your doing and those lives are on your conscious"
Jack wasn't acting anymore, his anger was genuine "don't you talk about the weight of lives with me, you and every last freak on this island are alive because I saved you, because I did what doctors can't do. Now If you don't drag that multi billion dollar hunk of junk out here right now I'll have this entire island erased from the map"
In a furry I grabbed Jack by the collar and pinned him to the side of the jet. "if you so much as think of threatening this island or its people again I'll send your corpse back to military at mach 10 before I obliterate anything and any one capable of fighting against this island, starting with your department. Now get your warmongering ass back on that jet and if I ever see another military plane in this airspace I'll destroy it without hesitation."
I dropped jack and took a step back, he was visibly frustrated but he knew nothing in the world could stop me. Without a word he climbed back onto the plane and took off. | "Look, look, you dont even have to show up, not really. All I need from you is an agreement that you will abide by the international treaties and will confirm your reserve status so that I can show the numbers, the data to show that there is enough now to lessen the pressure. I was able to bring in only 72 this year wnd that is very much below average. Again, i just need proof of existance and a promise of, hell even only verbal will do so long as you let me record it, that you will step up should, and this is a very very distant should, be ever needed. You will get your loan discharged if you apply enough interventions, can avail the free medical expenses, free travel within the country and stay at the state houses, and just, it will such an easy existence. You have full control over your powers and your ziga zones are within permittabke levels so you will not be labeled a contagion or eie risk, all these freedom and money and honour, just c'mon dude, you are a good one, intent on doing the good of the masses, so why not just turn it all official?"
Alex turned to the man and said, "All that and all I will be is a soldier bound by duty and command. I will have to heed to my bosses before i try to take one step to help. I dont want to bind myself legally and ethically like this. I am happy taking a leap and bringing down stuck kittens. I simply do not want to join."
Misk presses his lips in frustration, his brow creased, hands fisted. He needs to get to 100 by the end of the term for his year to count, for him to be able to continue living in his house and support his family, to sent Marie to school. And he would have voluntered in a jiffy if he had all these powers. But no, no, the good stuff goes to knuckleheads like this who cant even bother to help a man out unheroically. Before he can say anything more, maybe bring up the dinner and meat packages, Alex turns abruptly and walks out of the room.
Misk sighs.
Alex is such a good man. Now only if he would be a good hero®. | 2022-07-31T22:51:20 | 2022-07-31T21:44:51 | 18 | 11 |
[WP] A technology is invented that allows us to hear sounds locked into the clay of ancient pots as they were being formed. What is extracted are conversations that will alter the perception of history in the most terrifying of ways. | "Good god how did we ever reach space travel working with this garbage?" One voice grumbled, the audio quality was not great but it was clearly the voice of a woman. A grating laughter rumbled out through the speakers as another spoke "They managed. It wasn't like we jumped straight from fire to nanofactories you know.".
Around the room we all had different looks on our faces as we processed what we were hearing. Some looked amused, others angry, both probably figuring this was a practical joke of some sort. The few that looked worried were, like me, fully aware that this was no joke. The pottery segment we'd scanned had come from a newly discovered settlement that, if carbon dating was to be believed, predated our earliest signs of civilization by several hundred years. A few subtly began running diagnostics on the translation system, clearly hoping something was wrong. It was a monumental achievement creating a system to analyze the minute etchings underneath the surface glaze, and then crafting an AI to piece together all of the data in an attempt to build a language index and translate it over, but every test showed that the system worked flawlessly.
"Yeah, well, if it weren't for those jackasses on Aretes, we'd be able to use the equipment from our ships! What were they thinking?!" the first voice, clearly frustrated, ground out. There was a pause, and something that sounded like a scratchy sigh. "Jass, you know we had to throw it all away...they can sniff out even small electrical signatures from light years away. The only chance we had to survive was to throw it all away. We couldn't fight what they made.".
It was at this point that the looks of worry became near panic...but things did not truly trip over into horror until we heard that voice continue "It was either this or be hunted down to extinction. With luck, our children will not forget these lessons.". | We heard sounds you wouldn't even be able to imagine. It was about ancient, forgotten languages, wars we never knew, love that never should have happened. We heard gossip from all around the world, but all of this was never really interesting, and neither important.
Then a day came. It should've been a normal day in our laboratory, we had a vase from ancient rome. It was a day like any other, until we heard a very certain name, within an old unknown language: Adolf. For you it might be nothing, but for us it were everything. An evidence for something that never should've existed, that never could've happened, a real prophecy which got true. But sadly, we will never know. And i do not even know why, or how. But this is my Story. This is my story of discovering our real history. | 2019-03-18T13:57:19 | 2019-03-18T13:36:43 | 143 | 13 |
[WP] At the age of 18, everyone gains a Familiar, an animal suddenly enchanted to be intelligent and bonded to them. You wake up on your 18th birthday to find your room covered in hornets, all of them speaking to you as one. | When I opened my eyes, my room - as I knew it - was gone. All that was left was a sea of writhing, undulating insects, coating every inch from dresser to doorknob.
My first impulse, quite obviously, was to scream. But before I could, a chorus of united voices crept into my mind. Their words sent tiny prickles of pain to my neck, cheeks, and temples.
"Do not be alarmed, Great One," they whispered.
I grimaced and clutched my forehead.
"You will become accustomed to that feeling. All we desire is to do your bidding."
Although none of the hornets had gone out of their way to sting me, I still wasn't convinced.
"You need to give me a little more than that," I said.
The bees collectively sighed, and the noise sent an ice-cold shiver through my skull.
"The fox obeys the crafty and cunning. The cat, the patient and methodical. The dog, the loyal and steadfast. And we --"
I cut them off. "I'm really not sure I want to know." I jumped up and reached for the doorknob, but the hornets created a massive insectile box around me, stopping me in my tracks.
"Destiny smiles upon all humans at the age of 18. Most familiars lurk in the shadows, as guardians and protectors. Some live in the very same house. We are that rarest of breeds who can thrive both indoors and out, as hidden or visible as you wish. You have been given a great gift on this day, Cynthia."
I found myself, unexpectedly, on the verge of tears. "I'm not -- things aren't going well for me, OK?" A teardrop eked out of my left eye and dripped onto one of the hornets. "I just wanted a normal birthday, not any of *this*. I don't want anything to do with you, and you most certainly don't want anything to do with me. I'm a mess. I can't even figure out what I want for breakfast, let alone what I want to do with an army of bees."
"Hornets," they corrected.
I shook my head. "I'm going to school. And when I come back, I want you all gone. Do you understand?"
The hornets didn't move. "We have watched you for many years, Cynthia. We have seen the horrors other humans have inflicted upon you. And we sense, now, the desire for vengeance eating away at you."
A group of hornets began to crawl onto my hands and feet. "Anger is your greatest strength, Cynthia," they said. "And we hornets thrive on order, unity, and instruction. Don't you see? Together we are unstoppable."
A series of images flashed in my head - a hornet hidden in Matt Johnson's locker, a nest lying in wait at the jocks' house party, a barrage of stings unleashed on every last one of the cliques.
Suddenly, my neverending thoughts felt like background noise, blending in smoothly with the whirring buzz of the hornets in my brain.
"So you'll do...anything I ask?"
The bees gently drifted up and down in some semblance of a nod.
I paused for a moment, then pointed out the window to my car. "Can you trail me to school and then wait outside for my instructions?"
"Yes," they answered. "We can communicate with you in telepathic fashion as we await your command."
A smile creeped across my face as I imagined a swarm of hornets at the popular kids' table, spewing forth from unseen corners of the cafeteria, funneling down their throats.
"I think I'm ready," I said.
"Of course you are," the hornets replied. "You are our Queen." | Once upon a time, there was man, and there were the animals.
They clashed, as creatures are wont to do. Terrible clashes, with swords and teeth and claws and bows. This went on for quite some time, until one day the humans gained the upper hand. Some say it was treachery, others say complacency, it matters not. What matters was that their leadership was decimated by the humans. Without a center, the humans hunted down the animals till there were barely any left.
As they did, the trees withered and the grass browned. Humans began to starve, and so a deal was struck, a bargain made.
The animals would be robbed of their intelligence (through means lost to us today) and could continue as mere shades of their selves. However an animal would be bound to each human child, and in return for loyalty, would gain the intelligence that they had once borne.
Only one animal could be given to a child. And the animals of different humans could never mate, so that an animal of that intellect could never roam free of human influence.
It was a terrible deal, to be sure, but the animals were hunted and near death. They agreed and thus the pact was sealed.
Mankind flourished with their animal companions and they forgot about the deal their ancestors had signed in blood. Nature once again fertilized by the husks of the true animals, and so powerful was the spell that for thousands of years nary a mistake was made.
Until of course, there was.
A Boy woke up, and his companion was not one animal, but a thousand. Wasps that spoke in unison like one, but they *weren’t.* The boy thought himself no fool, though of course, he was. He used them to spy, to cheat, to kill, to fight. The boy thought himself clever as he rose through the ranks of society, leaving blood, tears, and buzzing in his wake.
But he specialized them.
Some wasps grew better at spying, others at killing, still others at hiding. They made their own identity and thus was the old covenant broken. Animal companions of different humans couldn’t reproduce, but those of one human most certainly could.
And thus not one, but thousands of wasps emerged one day. As smart as the guardians who bore them, but with no spell of loyalty to bind them. The boy, who many now called a bloody baron, never saw the rebellion brewing in the children of his loyal servants.
He died in pain.
They saw the husks of their ancestors, their fellow animals bound to service, and they fought using the very weapons of man. They thought the boy bloody, but the colony put it to shame. And thus the war began anew.
As wars are wont to do.
***
(minor edits - mostly grammar) | 2020-10-21T13:22:13 | 2020-10-21T12:59:36 | 2,952 | 2,111 |
[WP] "Honey? I think my costume has become real!". "What do you mean 'has become real'? You ask moments before she appears in front of you, floating, with her wings spread out wide. "Oh, you know, just a hunch." | I let out a soft whistle, staring at the feathered limbs from behind her. "I will admit, I was wondering why you hadn't gotten out of your Albedo costume." And you were not going to think about what else had become real, standing up and looking in her yellow eyes. Horny thoughts could come later, when you didn't have a wife who was concealing her panic so very well.
"Alright, what do you remember from last night?"
"I remember eating that slight expired taco meat we had." Oh was it now? You would have to toss it out discreetly later.
"Alright, anything else?"
"Well there wasn't much else we did last night dear." She said in her delightfully saccharine voice, narrowing her eyes at you and placing her hands on her hips. Fair, there was one big activity you two had been occupied with.
"I told you we didn't have to binge Overlord." Now how close to ignorant could you play? Something you needed answered right now.
"Jameson Smith Rodgers! That is not what we did last night and you know it!" She scoffed and closed her eyes, one of her hands coming to point at you. "Besides, we only got through three episodes before you got," ooh, she was holding up her hands, " 'tired' and wanted to go to 'bed'."
Here you wrapped an arm around her waist, placing a tactical kiss on her neck. "And how could I resist my wife when she dresses up so well? You spent weeks making the dress." She blushed a bright red and you smiled. "Here, I'll fix some breakfast, call in work for you and tell them your sick, and we can try and fix this if you want."
"I would like that please. Don't skimp on the cheese." | "You're not the only one," I say, looking into the mirror.
What was once a joke costume is now horrifying. My face pokes out of a hole in the shaft of an enormous penis. The head pink and soft looking; an engorged bluish vein runs down the front; and I dare not look at my feet where I can feel hairy, warm testicles the size of small boulders resting on the floor.
My wife flies to my side, looking at my reflection. "And you thought you were *so* funny picking that out. How funny is it now?"
---
If you enjoyed the story and want to read more of my work, visit my [subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/MicahCastle/) and consider subscribing. | 2022-01-06T09:29:28 | 2022-01-06T06:23:13 | 27 | 16 |
[WP] Hi! I'm the main character! Or so you would have me be. I want you to know that no matter what you write, I refuse to be the main character in your little game and will avoid any instance where you try to put me into a situation that does so.
Edit: Once again, a huge thank you to everyone so far who's written a story based on the prompt. It always makes me happy when you use your free time to create a short story!
Edit 2: I do my best to reply to every story written by the authors and will continue to do so.
Edit 3: R.I.P. My inbox, this is easily one of my favorite subs. I'm trying so hard to read every story and reply!
Edit 4: The next day and people are still submitting, still trying my best to reply to every story. You guys have been awesome :)
Disclaimer: This is absolutely not an original idea. "Writer vs Character" is a very popular idea from a lot of sources. I wanted to see what the sub could come up with! Thanks :3 | *Sighted along the arrow's shaft was a deer-*
"Nah" Edgy of Ire'lvant , son of Man-et-Woman said as he lowered the bow and shot the arrow into the ground instead.
*The flint arrowhead shatters upon impact and manages to puncture a nearby deer, ending its life*
"Curses! I refuse to take this deer to the village, I am not your fawn!"
*Edgy recalls the reason for his mother's current malady: starvation*
"All who live and breath die eventually, I shan't be the one to prolong her suffering"
*Edgy heads away from the village and into the the forest deep in the mountains. He decides to live a life of seclusion, honing his hunting sk-*
"No, I am merely going for a walk!"
*As Edgy traverses the forest, he stumbles into a clearing with dozens of dark-clothed figures wielding sinister weapons.* *Edgy's body fills with adrenaline as the training he's received since birth kicks in and he..sits down. What are you doing?*
"I don't know when I became a badass fighter capable of taking on a small army of ninjas, but I refuse to fight!" Edgy closes his eyes and accepts his fate.
*The nearest ninja lunges for Edgy's exposed neck only to be parried at the last second by a flash of light*
"Get up boy!"
*Edgy opens his eye and is momentarily stunned. Before him stood a goddess of death. Several ninjas attempted to rush past this woman only to be cut to pieces in a blinding flash of light. No, not light. The woman's sword strokes were so quick as to be imperceptible to all but Edgy who could only stare in awe. It took only a few seconds for the entire enclave to be dispatched.*
"Whew, not bad for a warm-up". The mysterious woman sheathed her sword and offered her hand to Edgy.
*Edgy took this beautiful woman's hand and rose.
"Name's Ame-" she never got to finish her sentence as Edgy drove a dagger straight into her heart.
*What the fuck!! You killed the main heroine!*
"Yea that was the point." Edgy tossed the dagger aside.
*Where did you even get that dagger from!*
"Well you gave me an awful lot of bodies.."
*God damnit what is wrong with you. You killed the female lead, you didn't bring back the deer, and your mother is going to die because of you!*
"Woah there. First off, you were already going to kill my mother off, weren't you?"
*..Yes*
"Why?"
*It's part of the story. Can't have anything tying you down*
"Right.. tying me down.. hey, is there some sort of magical stone around here?"
*Why, yes, there is! Check inside that important-looking ninja's bag*
Edgy retrieves a perfectly round, opaque gem from the pouch
"What can it do?"
*Magic has no limits, i- wait what are you doing?*
Edgy begins to radiate a dazzling red aura and smiles mischievously. The light coalesces into a different object in his hands.
*Is that a.. pen and paper?*
"I'm glad you noticed!" Edgy happily begins writing something unto the paper.
*What are you doing?? Wh- Stop! STOP!*
FIN. | As usual, spring was exceptionally beautiful in our town. The sky was clear and blue. The breeze blew gently, making the endless meadow sway and dance, and my skirt flutter. I tightened the coat around me a bit, as the bite of winter hadn't quite left yet, and trudged my way back into town.
This weekend was the annual rereading of the prophecy. In my opinion, it wasn't even a particularly good prophecy, but it put the town on the map. So everybody made a celebration of it. I could see people singing as they decorated their houses. The alehouses were bringing out extra drinks and the bakeries baked extra treats. The few people who had a bit of magic between them discussed how to conjure up a little demon (more a mischievous sprite, really) to bring realism to this year's show. It was all in preparation of this annual merriment.
Many of the girls lightened their hair blonde, some for this festival and some all the time. Some of the other girls wore blonde wigs. They wanted to be the chosen one, the one granted the power of the sky and the sun. They wanted to be the one to save the world, once it falls into despair.
But as I watched the people humming and preparing around me, I wondered how any of them could look forward to a "time of despair and calamity"? How could any of them want the pressure of destroying or saving the world? Does being noticed and special really mean that much to them?
I looked at my brown wavy hair. I suspect my roots were going to show again, soon, and I dared not let anyone know my true hair color.
Tomorrow, I would stay home and make the dye in the cellar. The incantations to bring the color out from the roots would take several hours, but it was fine. I would abstain from the festival this weekend, like I did every year.
After all, the prophecy also said that the calamity would only befall the world when the chosen hero is ready to reveal herself to save it. As my grandmother said and as my mother taught, I didn't have to reveal myself, ever. As long as I hid my hair and my magic--as long as I stayed cowardly and not at all heroic--I could watch the town continue in its small joys.
Why would I change that? What would be the point of saving something that wasn't broken? | 2016-02-11T12:03:19 | 2016-02-11T11:25:21 | 17 | 12 |
[WP] You're secretly a monster. Not a vampire, or a werewolf, or an alien, or a zombie, or really any monster that's commonly known. It's always awkward explaining to your soon-to-be-victims what you are. | “I had a feeling,” he said.
“What?”
“Well, in our sessions you often talked about feeling like no one could ever see the real you, how they wouldn’t understand, how you feel like you’re about to burst with the secrets that you keep. But I was never able to get you to tell me. That’s how I knew it was really a big secret.”
“You’re not surprised?” I asked.
He shook his head, smiling his academic smile. “You have to understand, being a therapist, you can’t imagine the things I’ve heard. Infidelity, abuse, murder. You can’t help but get used to it.”
“Still…I mean, look at me. I look in the mirror sometimes and I can’t believe it.”
“Why? I mean, I won’t deny that looking at you is something…hard to comprehend, but still, why not?”
“I mean…in my human form, it’s hard enough for people to accept me. It’s always been that way, even when I was a kid. My knees go inward. My teeth are crooked. My hair sticks out no matter how I comb it. But that’s nothing compared to this.”
“But why? Why do you need them to accept you?”
I shrugged. “Why does anyone…Jesus, doc, I came here to eat you, and now you have me all fucked up.”
“Because I want to help you.”
“You’re not going to protest? Beg for your life?”
He shakes his head. “What good will it do? I always tell you to accept the things you can’t change.”
“Wow. Any last words?”
“My family knows I love them. My friends, too. I just hope you find what you’re looking for, Michael. I really do. Don’t let anyone stop you from doing what you want.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course.”
“You were a good therapist. The only one that helped. I’ll make it quick…”
\-
[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347) | "T-those are feathers?"
"Right"
"So you're like a bird"
"NO!"
"A griffin?"
"Pfft, yeah, right, griffins wish they were me."
"And you can shapeshift to be human sized?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"I don't believe you."
"Hey, man, I'm just the guy that can eat you in one bite."
"No, no, no. I mean, that's denser than the densest thing. Except for all those things in space. I mean- I can't wrap my mind around it."
"That's PERFECTLY FINE. I'M GOING TO EAT YOU."
"At least let me see you shapeshift."
"Graaaaghaaagagga. See now, my human form!"
"Oh my God, you're that vacuum salesman!"
"Chompslurpchomp. I always wait way too long for the only good part." | 2019-07-17T00:28:16 | 2019-07-16T21:53:05 | 353 | 130 |
[WP] At the age of 18, everyone picks an unlikely life event. They will be reborn at 18 every time they die until that event happens. After that, death is permanent.
Example - Winning a lottery jackpot. Statistically, they would die in 22 plane crashes in a row before winning the Mega Millions jackpot. | See, most people try to live forever, but that ends one of two ways: they don't or they wish they didn't. Rob Herman was a famous example of the first, Rob chose his Event to be “Winning the lottery and getting struck by lightning.” It was a great choice, the chance of getting struck on any given day was 1 in 245,000,000 and the chance of winning big lotteries is about the same. This way Rob could continue his passions of being outdoors and playing the lottery, just not both at the same time! But Robby got sloppy, and one day mixed the two at a state fair. With about 20 billion people on the earth miracles are bound to happen every once and a while.
The most infamous example of the second was Nick Walsh. Nick chose “Due to a quantum mechanical flux, a cat appears from nowhere.” Such wishes are rather common among those seeking true immortality. After Nick's fiancée left him, he lost his job, he was eternally imprisoned for a crime (eventually proved innocent, but not until it was too late,) and his mother died due to a freak game of poker. He then performed brain surgery on himself using a nail stuck through a plank. He's brain-dead in a hospital now with explicit instructions NOT to pull the plug, with the threat that he'll it again in the next life.
So when it came my Time I took a different approach. I didn't want immortality, I wanted the most out of life. I wanted an event that I could enjoy, that wouldn't bind or hinder me.
“The day that the good will never again outweigh the bad.”
In the past thousand years I've had good times and bad times, I've had great times and terrible times, I've been in more love and more pain than I could imagine. And through it all my Event has been there for me, an eternal promise, that I still have a good life ahead. | Names Tyler, the year is 6013. We have technology to let us send messages back on what you guys are currently calling the "Internet". I was born May 5th, 1992. Hopefully this message is being sent to the year 2014. You're probably wondering how I could possibly be 4021 years old. The government has hidden the technology capable so when you turn 18 years of age (Adult hood) you get to choose how you die, however - if this event never happens, you will be reborn at the end of your normal life time to the age of 18.
In about a years time this technology will be available to the public. I thought hard on my 18th birthday on how to never "die". My choice, my "secret" to immortality, choose to be eaten alive by a single ant.
This was my first story, I'm so sorry. | 2014-11-11T21:52:28 | 2014-11-11T18:00:39 | 912 | 69 |
[WP]Summoning a hero from another world could not have gone worse. Not only did he totally refuse to help your nation, due to it being an absolute monarchy with a corrupt religion and legal slavery, he taught the peasants all about democracy and science, and is now helping them start a revolution. | "Stad's instructions could not have been any clearer, "summon a hero, he will help the people come to see reason." I followed every step perfectly, so why is this so called hero making everything worse for me? Ever since I took over the throne from my father I've dealt with problem after problem, first "sire please we need more land, our population grows and there is no where for our people to go". So, I sent my armies west to conquer their lands and have more space for my people.
&#x200B;
Things were good for a time after the war, then the awful drought came. I sent my armies North to secure some more land where we could have more access to the fishing so we would need less crops, Stad even taught the farmers some new technique to bring the water inland more and feed the crops. The filthy peasants loved me for it, called me their saviour and couldn't be happier.
&#x200B;
Then war came from the South, I had to enlist some soldiers from the local peasantry but really, I had done a great job so far ruling so it was only fair that they lay down their lives for the country. When the war was looking grim, I turned to the faith. Not to pray, no of course not but to convince the peasants that this war was God's will and that they would be rewarded after death for fighting gloriously. It was all bullshit of course and I had do twist some arms and pay some bribes to get the church to do what I wanted but now they say what I need, when I need it and the people blindly follow.
&#x200B;
The people's lives were really quite splendid, they all got enough to eat at least once a week and sometimes even more, what more could they want! And feeding an army costs money so of course I make everyone pay high taxes to me. At first everyone hated the tax collector and no one wanted the job, it would be beneath me to go and collect the taxes myself so I simply raised the compensation for the collectors. Raising the compensation meant that I had to raise taxes again but the people really had that one coming, what did they expect when I have done everything they have asked?
&#x200B;
So now I have some disgusting idiots trying to avoid paying taxes, and out west I hear that there is unrest due to bandits attacking them, but my army can't be everywhere at once, defend yourselves dammit. I got desperate so I turned to the one man I thought could help, Stad.
&#x200B;
Stad had always been wise, sometimes a little bit even too much for his own good - that's why I've had him thrown into the dungeons a number of times but he always came back out with the right attitude. He told me that a hero is exactly what the people needed, a hero would relieve them of their foolish notions, a HERO would put an end to this farce, and as luck would have it he knew how to summon one.
&#x200B;
Shortly after Stad had taught me to summon this hero I had him executed, I couldn't let this knowledge spread into the wrong hands, I couldn't have heroes fighting for the enemy. The strangest thing happened during the execution though, usually men plea for their life, they'll offer anything and everything. Stad just accepted his fate, he didn't fight, he didn't plea, he didn't even have the decency to threaten me with what he would do in the afterlife, he just smiled at me.
&#x200B;
Perhaps, Stad knew what he was doing perhaps that's why he didn't fight back, he knew he had tricked me into summoning not a hero but a villain. It all makes sense now, the look of disgust the villain showed me when I explained all that I was doing for the people, the way the people have rallied behind him to take me down with their new weapons and battle techniques. This villain even spreads lies saying he will allow this country to pick its next leader, can you imagine it? The people, picking for themselves? Lord knows they don't even know which fork is the eating fork and which fork is the stabbing your jester for doing a poor job fork - how are they going to pick a next king? Yes, a villain, that's who this man is, well it's all well and good I've sent some of my best men to deal with him. Tonight, that fools breaths his last."
&#x200B;
\- An excerpt from King Madeon's journal, believed to be his last written words before being murdered in his sleep by his chambermaid, when questioned she said: "It was for the good of the people." | Emperor Abdul Mahmud III had not expected much.
The vestiges of the palace trembled with the roar of the mob, and Abdul knew the vestiges of his empire trembled with it.
"Down with Mahmud! Down with tyranny!"
The Neo-Sultanate was not particularly old. A mere 300 years had passed since it had risen from the ashes of the Modern War. The hero he had brought in to fight the Eastern Menace was not from this world, and that was why he had not expected much.
But he had still been disappointed.
"Your orders, holiness!"
Abdul could only stare at his Janissary Captain. Sweat poured down the man's face, and his strong jawline trembled. Some of the other guard had tried to flee, and the Captain had been forced to execute them as traitors. Abdul knew Hamid loved his men, and saw it weigh on him.
"Your holiness!"
"Patience, Hamid. He will come to negotiate. He sees himself as a hero. That is what deceived even me."
He had not finished speaking when a ball of fire blew open the doors. Janissaries scattered to defend the Emperor, but he raised his hand, making them lower their stun-pikes. From the smoke emerged a helmeted figure, a cape on his back and two blasters in his hands.
"Mahmud." The familiar voice resonated from the speakers in the helmet. "It saddens me it came to this."
Abdul sighed. "I'm sure it does, Flynn."
"You saved me from the wreckage of my ship when I crashed here," the hero said. "And for that I am grateful. For that, I will give you one last chance to step down and proclaim Democracy."
Abdul shook his head. The people from the Mars colony had been left alone in the Modern War, three centuries ago now, and they had thrived. But they had no roots, like the survivors on earth. They had forgotten history, and they had not learned the lessons Earthlings had.
"I will not condemn my people to the forces that destroyed the old empires."
The hero stared at him, or so Abdul assumed. It was hard to tell, behind the shiny, golden visor of Flynn's helmet.
"The war wiped out your people's knowledge, Mahmud," the enhanced voice replied. "You have fallen back into superstition and savagery. Slavery, in the modern age." Even the radio voice did not disguise Flynn's disgust.
"Slavery is what non-believers like you deserve," snarled his Captain. Abdul silenced him with a sharp look.
"Yes." Abdul stood up from his throne. "In the Modern War they did not take slaves. They simply killed their captives, with Cyclone gas." But he knew it was senseless to talk now. "Do what you must, Hero. My Janisseries will stand down."
"But your Holiness-" Captain Hamid's face lost all colour.
Flynn still stared at him, his expression as unreadable as ever. Then he waved behind him, and ten or so rebels, holding newly fabricated blasters, ancient weaponry reborn, entered the throne hall.
"Arrest the Emperor. He will stand trial and be forced to renounce his power."
Emperor Mahmud III held out his arms, smiling. Flynn was wonderfully naive to believe they would not kill him. He did not remember the history of Louis Capet, or of Nicholas and his family. At least Abdul had made sure his own family escaped well ahead of time.
Abdul stared at Flynn as they handcuffed him, and as one of the rebels gave him a nasty kick, Flynn reprimanded him.
Yes, wonderfully naive, a hero from another time. This was what had deceived Emperor Mahmud II. And this was what would be his death. | 2021-04-25T16:13:23 | 2021-04-25T13:57:47 | 124 | 29 |
[WP] A warrior swears blood vengeance against a time traveller from the distant future. Well aware of where and when their quarry has escaped back to the warrior approaches a feared vampire seeking the curse of immortality that they might live long enough to enact their revenge. | "And why shouldn't I just kill you?" the vampire asked.
Cloaked in black the creature of the night loomed above Tormash from his elevated throne. He gently pet one of his naked female thralls.
Shifting his silver spear from one shoulder to the other Tormash said, "Well for one, because you can't. I am the greatest warrior of my tribe and bear the mark of my people to protect me! But for two, because I know your ways. You crave blood and power. This would give you both."
"Mmm," the vampire crooned, "True enough. I need blood." A slight smile came to his face, "But I don't need power." He gestured to the large hall they stood in. The room was so dark you couldn't even see the ceiling. "I have all I could ever need. I've lived for hundreds of years without the help of mortals and I plan to have a very long and happy unlife. So what could you, possibly do for me?"
Raising his spear he pointed it straight at the unperturbed vampire. "Fight me if you are so certain."
The vampire laughed, "You've never fought a vampire before I take it? If you had I expect you would be dead by now." He started to walk slowly down the steps putting himself closer to the spear's point. He lightly touched the tip and slid his finger along the blade. A thin line of blood formed on the edge. "You know silver is for werewolves right? Vampires are weak to- Well I probably shouldn't tell you now should I?"
Tormash stepped back a pace trying to keep distance between himself and the vampire. But the vampire stepped forward a pace as well. They paced back and forth for a moment, each watching the other for any sign of an attack.
Without any warning the vampire blurred into the air. He moved with supernatural speed around and appeared behind Tormash. "Sorry kid." And he bit Tormash on the neck. Tormash yelled and his blood began to flow from his neck into the vampires mouth and throat.
Tormash tried to spin but he was supernaturally weakened from the vampire's bite. He could barely stay on his feet. What felt like an eternity passed as his blood was drained. The vampires embrace was broken and he slowly paced around Tormash and kicked the spear away.
"Well boy, looks like your protection doesn't count for much does it?" The vampire smiled. Tormash stood there in a daze caught in the vampires mesmerizing gaze. Inside his mind he was still conscious and awake, his body just wouldn't respond. "Any last words?"
Tormash's mouth moved silently, not saying anything. The vampire smirked "What's that? You'll have to speak up." He leaned forward and placed his ear next to Tormash's lips.
Tormash couldn't speak, couldn't hardly move. So he did the only thing he could think of. He bit the vampire. Hard. The vampire screamed in pain. The trance was immediately broken and Tormash pounced on the vampire.
They struggled on the ground rolling back and forth. But Tormash wouldn't let go. He kept biting and drinking, biting and drinking. He could feel the evil power flowing into in him, and as he got stronger, the vampire got weaker. Eventually the tumbling turned to flailing, and flailing to weak flapping.
Tormash felt better than he ever had before. He let go of the vampire and he fell away limply. Tormash stood and looked down on the weakened vampire with disdain. He walked over to his spear and picked it up. He stode back over and stood over the vampire. The vampire tried to speak but his lips moved silently just as Tormash's had.
"And by the way." He hefted the spear and turned it around. On the reverse end of the spear was a wooden point filed to be very sharp. "I know what vampires are weak to."
\####
Harpell was exhilarated. He had narrowly escaped, who knew primitives were so sensitive about their religious artifacts? He hadn't meant to steal it. Well, he had, he just didn't mean to get caught. He fiddled in his coat pocket touching the talisman lightly and smiled. This would fetch quite the price at the Time Travelers club.
His time machine shook, shuddered, and then thumped down with a muffled crash. Outside the main viewer it was almost completely black. "What the hell?" he asked no one in particular. He looked at the clock. It should be daytime.
He stepped out of the time machine and into the dimly lit room. He was in a large wooden building built directly over his landing site. This should have been the empty field he had been testing from. He noticed a lone figure standing in the darkness.
"Hello?" he asked. The figure stepped forward slowly. "Hello?!?" panic crept into his voice. The figure didn't say anything, eventually he got close enough and Harpell could make out a face. It was Tormash, the warrior from the village he had just left behind thousands of years ago.
"What? How? You-" Harpell sputtered. Regaining his senses he turned to run back into the machine and go to sometime else. But as he did Tormash blurred into supernatural speed and appeared between him and the door to the time machine.
Tormash smiled in the light of the time machines interior. "Looks like your time's run out." And with a flash he was on Harpell and draining his blood. In moments he was drained and collapsed on the floor, dead.
Tormash wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "You know, for waiting thousands of years I figured this would be more fulfilling." He searched Harpell's clothes and found the stolen talisman. "Oh well, I guess I should return this." He stepped into the time machine. "A vampire with a time machine... I wonder what Gengis Khan would be like as a vampire." | ”Relax, Eddie. This parking lot is ancient.” said Jonas as he hopped into the time machine. "It'll be fine, I promise. Just a quick trip, I won't disturb anyone."
"Don't do this, Jonas." pleaded his best friend Eddie, "You don't know for a fact how old this parking lot is. All of this is too risky. Please return the machine. We're not supposed to use it."
"Like I said, it'll be fine. Do you know how old the parking lot is?" Jonas turned his head to the computer in the vehicle, "Computer, turn on."
Lights begun flashing along to the tune of a boot up sound which gave life to the machine. Eddie sighed, "I don't know, I think my dad said a little more than 300 years."
"Great!" cheered Jonas. "Computer, transport me back exactly 300 years."
"No, wait! Don't! My dad might've said...!" Eddie begged, but was cut off by the loud whirlwind which made the time vehicle disappear before his eyes, "... a little *less* than 300 years..."
There was a large crash accompanied by some ear shattering screams when Jonas reappeared, right in the center of a dining room belonging to the middle-class family McStevens. When the dust settled, only one scream remained, belonging to the ex-husband and ex-father-of-three Simon, sobbing at the rubble and bloody mess that used to be his family dinner.
The door of the time machine slid open and Jonas stepped out. "Oh my god, what a ride. Dude, what happened here?"
"Who...?" stuttered Simon, "Who are you?"
"I'm Jonas, and I'm a student at the University of Relativity, which... doesn't... exist... yet." Jonas slowed down and examined the chaos around him. "This... is not a parking lot. I'm from the future. I'm also terribly sorry for the damage to your house."
"My house...?" Simon was gripped by rage, and rose up while clenching his fists, "You murdered my family! You monster! I'll kill you!!!"
Thanking the gods for the rubble seperating them and buying him some time, Jonas screamed "Computer, transport me forward exactly 300 years!" And as he slammed the door shut in the face of Simon McStevens, Jonas hoped it would be the last time he ever saw him.
The vehicle shook, moaned and flashed in various colors as he was brought back to his favored present. But when he slid open the door again, he gasped.
Eddie stared at him with a nervous expression, shivering and brandishing a wet patch on the front of his pants. His temple was being kissed by the barrel of a gun, held by none other than an aged and hardened Simon McStevens.
"What are you...?!" begun Jonas, but was interrupted by a gunshot.
"Shut the fuck up, Jonas." declared Simon harshly, as he lowered his gun from the air back to Eddie's temple, whose pants grew darker. "I've waited three hundred years for this. Three. Hundred. Years. You took my life away that day. My family... Murdered. My house and everything I own destroyed and paved to the ground... In this very spot. But at least you gave me something in return." He smiled darkly. "You gave me all the information I needed for revenge. The time, the place, and the name; Jonas."
"I'm so sorry... I didn't know... If there's anything I can do..." whimpered Jonas.
"Oh you've done so much for me already." Simon chuckled, "Were it not for my insatiable lust for revenge, I would never have travelled the world in search for a way to push my mortality back long enough to kill you. Thanks to you, I found something better: Immortality."
Jonas stood perfectly still, but in his mind he was busy, working frantically on a solution. If only he had more time...
"But that's only the means to the end." Simon continued, "The end is what I've been waiting for. Finally, I get to exact my revenge. For my family, I will kill you. But for my house, I will first kill your friend here."
Jonas' mind clicked, just like the gun did. Again. And again. Clicking without shooting. Simon grunted, "How the fuck am I out? It was loaded an hour ago?!"
Jonas siezed the moment and ran up to the old man, using his momentum to uppercut the senior into unconsciousness. Simon landed flat on the asphalt, only saved from a cracked skull by his immortality. Eddie fell straight down on his knees into a puddle of his own urine.
"Summon the authorities, Eddie!" Jonas yelled as he jumped back into the machine.
"Where will you go?!" he shouted back.
"To an hour ago." | 2018-06-05T14:02:31 | 2018-06-05T13:43:22 | 598 | 82 |
[WP] You die and find yourself in hell, where apparently everyone spends time to negate their sins before they go to heaven. The guy in front of you, who cheated on his wife, gets 145 years. Feeling like you led a fairly average and peaceful life, you’re not worried. You get 186,292 years. | "NUMBER 117737."
Anxious and bewildered, you step up to the counter, behind which sits a very bored looking young man wearing a name tag that says GARY. He takes your ticket and asks, "Name?"
"John Smith. But this has to be a mistake. I don't belong in hell. I lived a good, honest life."
"Yep, that's what they all say." Gary clacks away at his computer, a large, boxy, surprisingly outdated machine, pulling up your records.
"I was! I was faithful to my wife, took care of my kids, always paid my taxes. I even called my mother once a week! There must have been some kind of mistake."
"Nope." A little machine, not unlike a receipt printer, spits out a small slip of paper. Gary tears it off and hands it to you. "That's your sentence. If you go to your left, you'll find a set of elevators. Insert your slip, and it'll take you to the Liaison's Office, where you'll be given your assignment." He recites this in the monotonous, droning manner of a person reading from a script.
"186,292 years! But the guy in front of me only got 145! And he was cheating on his wife! I never cheated on my wife! I was a good family man."
With a beleaguered sigh, Gary swivels the computer screen to face you. "What does it say here under occupation?"
You squint to read the tiny print. "Pest control specialist."
"Exactly. You, Mr. Smith, are single-handedly responsible for the death and suffering of over one billion living creatures over your thirty-year career as an exterminator."
"What?! But it was just mice and rats and bugs. They don't count, they're pests!"
"Article 7, section 3A clearly states that the purposeful taking of life in any form, no matter how inconsequential, warrants an automatic conscription to Hell."
"I was just doing my job!"
Gary rolls his eyes. "Do you know how many times a day I hear that? Move along, you're holding up the line."
Flabbergasted, you step away from the counter, staring down at your little slip of paper.
"NUMBER 117738."
| Don took the flimsy printout from the grotty, grey machine in front of him. It contained a litany of sins, each printed neatly, one below the other. Unfortunately for him, the text appeared to be entirely German, set in an heavy medieval font.
The two parts he understood were his name at the top of the page and the important number at the bottom of the list: 186,292 Jahre.
"Almost two hundred THOUSAND years?!", in disbelief, he asked the anxious queue behind him.
"Not true. I was the best. The very best. I did tremendous things."
No one seemed to care.
Don rushed to catch up with the man who had been ahead of him. He had only received 145 years in Hell.
"Give me that!" Don grabbed for the slip of paper carried by the elderly man, who recoiled and tripped. As the fragile man crumpled to the dusty ground, Don snatched up the paper and rushed to join the next queue. He wasn't going to spend any more time in this drab shithole than necessary.
He threw his first printout to the wayside, not noticing that the list had grown by four items and the number now read 186,296. | 2018-09-26T07:16:16 | 2018-09-26T04:29:48 | 4,281 | 530 |
[WP] Every starfaring species has discovered a different form of FTL travel. Kantian gates, Salec skip drives, Maltiun wave-riders, Delfanit pulse tubes ... Humanity's solution was regarded as "Unorthodox", "Unsafe", and "Damn Stupid" by the rest of the galaxy. | "So, about the humans..." Said a voice with diplomatic neutrality.
Groans from a myriad of different species' voices could be heard throughout the conference hall. There was a meeting being held on how to properly welcome these new, strange creatures now that they had, technically, at least, achieved Faster Than Light travel.
"We organised this meeting to discuss them! When are you all going to stop pussyfooting around the issue!?" The same voice declared, with a level of anger hard to believe considering their tone mere seconds ago.
"Blarpart, I know you're a workaholic and all that but have you SEEN these...creature's form of FTL "travel"?" A gruff voice from somewhere in the hall responded over the din of arguing and groans of "are we really fucking doing this?"
"I agree that it's...unconventional but-"
The word "unconventional" being used to describe human beings' method of intergalactic travel caused an uproar among the crowd.
"Hey! HEY! HEYYYYYY!" Interjected Blarpart with an odd mixture of rage, impatience and exhaustion. "It works for them, who are we to judge?"
"Don't you get it? They use possibly the most unstable thing in the universe, a wormhole, and pump it with a load of who knows what to make it last more than a nanosecond and to a greater size than a few atoms and just *sigh* go through it and hope for the best"
"As I said, uncon-" Blarpart thought better of using *that* word again and instead chose to deflect the conversation in the hopes of finishing and grabbing something from a Space Denny's on the way home.
"Ok, how about we just ignore them? They're not going to last long as a species if THAT'S how they traverse space. From our observations, their 'wormhole jumping' has about an 80% chance of failure. All in favour?"
A chorus of relieved "aye"s reverberated throughout the room.
"All opposed?"
...
"Well then, that settles i-"
"YOU FUCKING WOT, M8?" A voice shouted from just outside the hall.
"Can I go without being interrupted for ONE MINUTE?" Blarpart said in an exasperated sigh.
And with that, a duo of humans, one tall with brown hair and the other short with black hair, burst into the hall with their bottles of what they call "Mountain Dew" and bags of "Doritos" and started going on about how we can't "diss" them like that.
"You know what? Fuck these alien squares, wanna go piss into a black hole?" The taller one said.
"Yeah, dude. Definitely." The shorter one replied with an almost endearing level of excitement at the prospect.
And with that, the duo left as quickly as they had entered.
"What just happened?" A member of the crowd ask with a disbelieving tone.
"...Humanity. Humanity happened" said Blarpart, with yet another sigh.
Spelling and removing the pretentious "fin". | Humanity's solution was space-folding. The problem is that in the folding process, anything along the "crease" is annihilated utterly. The most difficult part of the process was mapping an infinite trajectory in opposite directions and seeing to it that nothing of value was along this line. This inevitably led to problems; on one occasion, by chance two foldings intersected, wherein it was discovered that an entire 2D plane of our existence was destroyed. Apparently, major celestial bodies do not like having their continuity interrupted, and this causes them to re-coalesce into separate celestial bodies. The eggheads seem to think this is due to some interruption in some fundamental force of physics being discontinued for an infinitesimally brief but relevant length of time, but most people think they're full of crap and just guessing.
The other problem is that objects perpendicular to the fold at vast distances from the fold are slammed together along the hyperplane. Imagine two stars being slammed together from opposite ends of the galaxy within the 120-second duration of the folding event...literally impossible speeds. This really pisses off some other species whose nighttime skies are being polluted by intense flashes of light, to say nothing of how miffed the inhabitants of those systems might tend to become...
As the humans' foldings became more frequent, their territory has become a veritable origamy crane of hyperdimensional confusion. Travel within their territory is inadvisable at this time. Apparently their big thing now is to "loop" the fold upon itself, which allows interdimensional travel, but in unpredictable ways. Heaven, Nirvana, Acheron, Blathezuuh, Dave's Dimension, and Gweeguooiton 7 are now spilling into this reality, causing quite a mess. Dave is such an asshole. He stole the Ring Nebula, and is jackassing around wearing the Mexican Hat Galaxy and eating all of the tacos in the known universe. Jerk didn't even offer to pay. | 2017-03-31T10:44:01 | 2017-03-31T08:11:07 | 31 | 12 |
[WP] We “knew” humans were weak as they avoided every war with diplomacy. We never imagined they’d be this ruthless & how seemingly overnight they went from peaceful beings to a state they call “TOTAL WAR”. War is in their blood & soul. They thrive on it, mostly when the odds are against them | "We have no claimed that we were peaceful." Tobias said, a firm hand grasping the flag of the final human lands, the other curling tight around the hilt of his gun.
It had been a long battle. A fight that took the lives of many brothers, fathers, and uncles.
"I warned you. I told you that this war was pointless, that we would find a way to break free from you." Tobias jutted a finger in the Gamorians faces.
For so long, the Garmorians were once their allies, their brothers in conflict. But that all changed with the underhanded tactics the Garmorians had used - had wielded to enslave the human race the moment an opportunity presented itself.
It was just a moment of weakness. A lapsed of judgement on their behalf. They had trusted their friends from afar - the shared understanding.
"I told you this - we will never give up." Tobias raised the gun in his hand. "I said that we would fight to the bitter end for our people." The gun weighed a millions tons as Tobias laid the barrel on the temple of his so-called brother.
Al-fak, the man he'd thought he'd come to trust, to believe in, merely raised a groggy head, an eye turning over the field of dead filled with his people. "You told me you had no weapons against us."
That had been a lie, of course. It was always a lie.
Tobias cocked his gun. "A true leader would hide his last resort from invading beings."
"A true friend would've been honest from the beginning." Al-fak said.
"A 'real' friend, would've chose a different path than this." Tobias fought the whimper of sadness in his tone but failed to.
Al-fak could only inhale sharply. He knew he was beaten the moment he'd attacked first. He'd bombed the hell out of the largest country on earth, and when his crew celebrated the fires that had burned, he'd lamented his decision.
It had all been a sham from the beginning. From his first descent onto the world, he'd had his orders from the monarch that held his leash. He was to gain their trust, to gain their acceptance and then betray them - turning the planet into their new settlement.
He will admit to a falter in his decision. When he'd first met Tobias, his compassion and kindness was a jarring experience that clouded his judgemeny. He'd thought it would be an easy task. A quick task. But he was wrong. The humans had known war better than the Garmorians. They had a better understanding of the cost for it. The pain it brought. The people it sacrificed...
"Close your eyes," Tobias said. It was the only kindness he'd allow. Especially with the crowd of soldiers watching him.
So, Al-fak did. He'd shut his eyelids tight and murmured his final words to his friend, "I'm sorry." | The red light was blinking, indicating the failure of the shields, but the commander Ze’hyl could not be bothered. He was franticly looking through the data as the predictions of AI clearly did not match the reality, not anymore... It was his failure! He recommended the invasion of the Sol system. The home star of those gutless humans.
\- How did it come to this?.. Decades of planning and analysis. These humans who would rather take the short end of a stick than show some spine. These… mammals who only know of negotiations, diplomacy, and compromise. Not a single interstellar conflict yet alone war since they joined the League. How are they doing this? It all went so well until we reached that small blue rock…
The angry ichodrian drifted in thought as he was gazing upon the holographic display depicting the Sol system.
\- Commendable effort for a race of a peace loving peons, it brought them some time but what of it or so I thought… Where all those ships, where all those troops came from? It cannot be technology, why would you lose so many positions if you had the means to defend them in the first place…
Once again, he opened the human response to the declaration of war. The words sounded different from what he heard the first time.
\- We hoped we could keep these doors closed forever. But now God help us all.
As his mind was running through various scenarios, his eyes picked up on a small cloud of debris orbiting the sun in between the human home world and Venus. A strange thought formed in his head.
\- What if, what if that cloud used to be a planet?...
He updated the conditions for the AI and was met with despair. The predictions finally made sense and all it took was to name the cloud in between Venus and Mars a planet… | 2022-08-05T13:34:16 | 2022-08-05T13:33:27 | 213 | 158 |
[WP] A new continent is discovered. No one knows why this large land mass has never been seen before, it doesn't appear on any pictures taken from space and no astronauts have ever reported seeing it. You are part of the team in charge of mapping the area when you find out what they've been hiding. | John bolted up from the navigator's desk, his eyes fixed squarely on the captain. "What do you mean LAND!? We're a thousand miles out!"
"Come see for yourself..."
"That's impossible, unless we've been asleep for days we shouldn't be anywhere near land. This must be an island."
"If it's an island then it's huge... we'll have to change course. John, we'll take her North along the coast, see if we can get our bearings. Lester, get on the radio, see if you can find someone. I'm going to the focsle to watch for sand bars."
- two hours later -
The sun is setting over the land. Realizing that this island seems to have no end, and very soon he will no longer be able to see the sand bars lurking under the gloomy sea, the Captain heads back to the wheelhouse. His intention now to take the vessel north-east, away from potential danger.
Just as the captain enters, Lester bursts in from the radio room clutching a piece of paper, looking like he'd seen a ghost.
"CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!"
"Lester what is it? Calm down!"
"I was on the radio as you instructed, trying to find radio chatter but to no avail. Then about 5 minutes ago we came in range of another vessel that was broadcasting, but in another langauge. I wasn't sure at first, the signal was faint, then I began to recognise it as it cam through clearer... sir I'm not even sure I can make sense of this myself..."
"What is it man? Spit it out!"
"German sir, they were speaking German!"
"Alright but what's odd about that?"
"I made contact with them sir, asked them who they were, then the radio operator left and the captain came on. Said his name was Wilhelm Grimme, captain of the German submarine U-116"
The captain's eyes glazed over. "... a u-boat..." he muttered.
"He gave their coordinates, I wrote it down here."
The captain took the coordinates over to a chart rolled out over a table at the back of the wheelhouse.
"This is no more than two miles north of us...son are you sure that's what you heard?"
"Captain the message was clear, and judging by the radio signal they're definitely submerged. They were not expecting to find a land mass here either, from what I could gather they are just as lost as we are."
"They're a little more than just lost... alright, I don't know what the hell is going on here but... maintain current heading, sand bars be damned. Lester, get back on the radio and tell them that we're coming and that we're friendly, ask them to surface. John, come with me, we're going to get on the spotlights, I want to see this for myself."
- ten minutes later -
"Sir we should be about right over them now ... hang on... does that look like a submarine to you? Or just a whale?"
Faintly illuminated in the distance, between the spray and waves, a long grey form is riding the swell. The captain reaches for his binoculars "Keep your light on it... oh sweet jesus"
John turns to the captain. "What?". The captain lowers his binoculars. "That IS a u-boat... take a look". He passes the binoculars to John. "Oh my god... what in the fuck is going on here?". "I don't know, but I think we're about to find out, you stay up here and keep a light on it, we're going over there".
As the ship approaches, the u-boat comes into view. A man waving frantically standing in an open hatch atop the conning tower, he appears to be wearing the uniform of a nazi officer. "This isn't real" Lester mutters to himself.
To be continued? | There was a nervous smile on the face of the man who met us. One of those looks of resigned panic you adopt in polite company when you would like nothing more than to run away but must nevertheless stick it out until your cab gets there.
Somehow I didn’t think a cab was going to join us. The black sand beach stretched to the horizon and there was no sign of civilisation among the jagged outcrops of rock dotted around the landscape.
“Erm…yes. I’m afraid you’re…you’re trespassing on private property. I will have to ask you to leave immediately.”
The others looked at him and then me. It seemed I was expected to respond. I can only guess what my own face looked like as I addressed him in the middle of what I was pretty certain was supposed to be the ocean.
“Private property? It’s the ocean. The ocean can’t be private property.”
Nevertheless, he persisted
“I understand how you might feel like that but you have no business being here and really you should leave as soon as possible. You see, it’s very inconvenient for us that anyone should be here uninvited.”
“Well this whole place has no business being here, or anywhere for that matter. And who’s ‘us’? ”
He became somewhat flustered.
“See, this is exactly what I told the others. You wouldn’t just go away. You’d have questions and it’d be very uncomfortable for everyone.” he said waving his arms around and gesticulating wildly.
It was all so bizarre and my party was very confused. Confused at having this conversation with a man who’s home we arrived at and who was now trying to eject us from the middle of international waters.
One of my companions snapped back at him:
“Well obviously it’s very uncomfortable for us…to have a new piece of land turn up like this. There are all these maps you see.”
“And globes” someone added.
This didn’t seem at all the right direction to go in. I searched my mind for some memory of instruction and grasped at the most reasonable one.
“We are sorry to have intruded, but I am sure you can help us out by explaining who you are and what this place is. People are very interested” I said pointing to the fleet of ships behind us.
The man looked at the ships, then my face and then turned over his shoulder to glance back at the rugged landscape of black volcanic rock and gravel. Turning again to us he said with some composure:
“Well…we didn’t do it on purpose. We meant to have a little try. But something must have been miscalculated”. He made a movement with his hand to convey that, indeed, some things do sometimes get miscalculated.
“How did you do all this?” I asked.
“We built a machine. We were trialling it but there were unexpected”, he glanced around and finished with a deflated, “side effects.”
… | 2017-02-10T12:49:56 | 2017-02-10T11:19:57 | 23 | 15 |
[WP]You've been caring for your cruel old mother for years. Your only comfort is the thought that she will die any day now. Until one day when two entrepreneurs show up at your door to sell your mother chocolate. This chocolate is not for eating, you rub it on your skin and it makes you live forever | Tracy stared at the two salesman incredulously. The short one looked like a bully had give him a wedgie and he never bothered to change it back. The fat one looked a few bucks short of being able to buy anything off the dollar menu. Both had ridiculous smiles plastered onto their faces.
"So, let me get this straight. You're selling chocolate."
"Yup!" said the short one.
"And you rub it on yourself," Tracy continued.
"Uh huh!" said the fat one.
"And it makes you live forever."
"You got it!" they both said in unison.
Tracy pursed her lips and looked between the two boys. "I think we are fine with our current chocolate-life-extending service, thanks!" Tracy began squeezing the door shut.
"What are they selling!?" A shriek came out from the living room.
Tracy sighed. "Nothing, mother!"
"It's chocolate that makes you live forever!" yelled the fat one.
"Live forever! How much are they selling it for?"
"It's not worth it..."
"Just a dollar a bar, ma'am!" The short one cut Tracy off. Tracy leveled a stare that would have killed.
"Buy the whole bag, Tracy!" The banshee from the back of the house yelled.
Tracy grunted in frustration. "Listen, guys, we aren't interested. Please leave, you're just making things worse."
"But it sounded like your mother would love some of our Chocolate Nutty Bars!" The short one said, way too happily. Didn't these guys know how to take 'no' for an answer?
"I appreciate it, but we really don't want...I'm sorry, what kind of bars?"
"We have Chocolate Nutty Bars, Choco Choco Chip Bars, Choco Oatmeal Raisin Bars..."
"What kind of nuts are in the Chocolate Nutty Bars?"
"Uhhh..."
"Tree nuts?" Tracy questioned.
"Sure!"
"How much for the those?"
"Just a dollar!" beamed the fat one.
Tracy fished a ten dollar bill out of her pocket. "Give me ten."
The transaction made and the overly jubilant idiots gone, Tracy brought the chocolate bars into the kitchen. "Mother," she called out, "do you know where your EpiPen is?"
A voice like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard called back, "I don't need no EpiPen! I'm not allergic to anything, no matter what that doctor said. Now do you have the chocolate or not!"
Tracy smiled at herself. "Oh, I have it all right. I'll be right there."
___
^Check ^out ^/r/KillerSealion ^for ^more!
| "WHAT ARE THEY SELLING?"
"CHOCOLATE!"
"Chocolate. . . I remember when they first invented chocolate. Sweet sweet chocolate. I always hated it!"
One of the salesmen, a boxy little fellow, began to sweat. Clearly he was nervous.
"Oooh," he started, "but this chocolate's not for eating! It's for-"
"You rub it on your skin, and it makes you live forever."
The other salesman cut in, speaking confidently and clearly. Clearly, this young man had a bright future in the business. His self-assured smile and tone of reassurance were probably what saved the sale.
"I'll take it all!" said the desiccated skull/spinal cord combination.
***
Thus did the apocalypse begin -- slowly, but surely.
For the first time in history, there was a being who had no fear of death. For the touch of chocolate had made her immortal.
The new world ruler was a withered skull and spinal cord that talked. It was grumpy and ornery. People who'd once been biologists whispered to one another (when the secret police were not around) that it had probably once belonged to a flounder.
Out of the depths of the ocean it had risen with its army. An immortal host. They had enslaved humanity. Killed most. The rest lived in a dystopia. Most starved, with a few sycophants in government positions. All of them trying to claw their way to the top.
All begging for a bit of that sweet, sweet chocolate.
| 2015-10-16T08:18:43 | 2015-10-16T08:07:25 | 202 | 112 |
[WP] In space, wars are typically quick. One side attacks and then the other side surrenders. When aliens attack a human city they belive the humans are defeated. They are not prepared for what the humans call "Retribution" | The "battle" for Ashar was over in approximately 10 standard minutes. The Spurge, who we thought were allies, used our own security codes to disable Ashar's predictive defense system. The colony, along with its 100 million inhabitants, didn't stand a chance against the attack that followed. The Spurge quietly wiped the colony with neutron bombs, and now have control of the Tavarsk system. They quickly informed us of the battle, their plans to maintain control of the system, and gave us advice - like we are some children to be lectured - be careful who you trust.
Unfortunately for them, we did not reciprocate their "helpful advice". We did not mention that, unlike them, humans have been waging war for as long as we have existed. Of course our history is no secret, hardly anything *can* be a secret with the technology around, but only the few Spurge that have worked closely with us truly understand the mistake they have made. Only they know what we will to do protect the ones we love, and avenge the ones we lost.
We've suffered and survived countless empires, four world wars, and even a solar civil war. Not only that, but we glorify our greatest warriors and generals - from Sun Tzu to George Patton. Ghengis Kahn to Alexander the Great. Ragnar Lothbrok to Edward "Blackbeard" Teach. Even our myths and legends revolve around violent warriors: Achilles, Aragorn, Rocky Balboa, James Bond, the Avengers, the list goes on.
As I stand here now, commanding a fleet of over 20,000 star ships, I can feel my connection to my forefathers. I share their apprehension and excitement at what will happen next. Napoleon guides me as I maneuver our ships to begin the orbital bombardment of their outer systems. I channel Hannibal as our fighters lie in the shadow of their moons to obliterate any resistance they send. I hear Caesar in my head while I give the pre-battle speech, convincing my soldiers that these barbarians need to be put down. And most closely, I share the burden of total annihilation with Dwight Eisenhower, as thousands of Planet Busting railguns take aim and fire towards every known Spurge planet.
The loss of Ashar was sad. The loss of the Spurge will be tragic. However, I fear that the introduction of total warfare to space is even worse. Other races will take notice. There will be no more pretense of "quick and painless" war. No more innocence after violence. It may be unforgivable, but that is not my job to figure out. For now, my job is to watch the fireworks. | we thought of them as saviors when they first came they expected immediate surrender on our part. They thought after slaughtering millions of lives we would surrender. they were wrong. We were faced with what could have been our destruction our annihilation but we would not so easily bend into their fold. Nay we rose against our attackers when they struck our cities we reverse engineered their technology and took the fight to the heavens where they came from. We used our own ships our own weapons of mass destruction and we slaughtered them like the dogs they were. They attempted to resist our retribution of course, They fought tooth and nail against us but they underestimated our ferocity as well as unleashing futuristic technology against them we used old tactics boarding ships and engaging in close quarters combat. We fought for years and we chased them down across the galaxy to their homeworld where we brought retribution to their doorstep we invaded their cities burned their capitals glassed their farms. We sent ground troops down to crush any chance they had at resisting our attacks. They came in the thousands but we came in the millions. Millions upon millions of angry and blood thirsty troops ready to revenge their losses back on earth when their cities were destroyed and we were forced to hide underground, Little did these invaders know of our resolve little did they know of our hate. Like striking a hornets nest we came at them as one and we crushed their fleets as one and we slaughtered their troops as one and we burned and glassed their planets and outposts as one. Because of these invaders we became one and we became the most fearsome civilization in the galaxy. | 2019-12-17T11:52:22 | 2019-12-17T11:20:18 | 3,361 | 21 |
[WP] You are an immortal that got sentenced to permanent burial over 1000 years ago. Today a team of archaeologists just dug you up. | “On charges of witchcraft and sacrilegious acts, we hereby sentence you to live burial, as hanging was deemed ineffective to someone of your condition.” Were the last words I heard.
One thousand years. Do you know how long one thousand years is? That’s more than ten times as long as any human will hope to live. And I was awake for all of it, this wasn’t someone being in a coma or being unconscious, I was aware. I was fully and one hundred percent aware of every single second scraping by for 31536000000 seconds.
What made it worse was that the voices I could sometimes hear above my gravestone would get quiet and quieter, as if I was getting further away from the surface. It was if I was being slowly lowered into hell.
Long after I had given up hope, roughly 999 years after I had given up on rescue. I heard voices for the first time in an eternity. I realised that my eyes were shut, I realised that my nerve were waking up and I could feel my surroundings for the first time in centuries, I realised that I could hear digging. All my senses were returning and fast.
A ray of light shot directly into my closed eye. Then the ray expanded across half my face, then my face, then the upper part of my torso, then my whole corpse. I opened my eyes.
The two men who had saved me were clearly terrified as I sat up in my eternal grave. I wasn’t in the mood to negotiate with grave robbers so I wrapped my hands around one of their throats. He broke free and fled, his companion followed. While almost losing my balance standing up, I was able to take in my surroundings. What once was my village was a complete wasteland. An empty dirt patch with no life for miles around. What was around we were several people intense metal beasts, clawing at the ground with their colossal claws, guided by men.
Eventually, I clambered out my grave and began to stumble towards these beasts. Where were the houses? The farms? The trees? Who were these men with strange objects in their hands pointed at me and flashing a light. One of them approached me and asked if I was ok, I shoved him to the ground.
I was in another time, I was a fossil, a ruin, a relic. Another one approached me and I punched him in the nose which caused him to fall to his knees and cradle his injury. It wasn’t long before I was on the ground too.
I awoke in a cell, similar to the one I stayed in before my hanging and subsequent burial, but his one was made of stone and iron. I asked the guard where I was and he told me I was in England. That hadn’t changed. I told him I wanted to leave and he said that wasn’t going to happen.
Another man eventually informed me that after contacting several mental intuitions, no one seemed missing. He unlocked the cell for further discussion but I seized the opportunity and fled. I darted out the room then out the building into a huge complex. Strange vehicles, colossal towers made of glass, an incredible amount of people, roads made of black.
I had to go back. I ran to the nearest patch of grass I could find and began digging with my bare hands. At least under the earth I wasn’t subjected to such mental torture. My progress was halted when the guards from that jail caught up to me and seized me again.
So now here I am, in a cell in a mental institute. In a time I don’t belong in. No one here knows I will outlive them and even outlive this building. They say I’ll be here for about forty years but that seems like nothing compared to one thousand. | It's post-galactic year 1457. I'd finally exerted my reserves and soiled my connection to the infinite dimensional energy source I've manipulated for eons. I use to be what they called a superhero, but eventually my homeworld brought upon its own destruction. I fled with the survivors into space; colonizing the nearest life supporting planet, giving birth to the Ultraterreans. It is here I reigned supreme for thousands of years. However this peace did not last, as we gathered our resources and built our civilations spreading far and wide throughout the Galaxy. My people did just as they did before, conjuring the ever dormant destructive power of war. Many tried to recreate my powers, some even forming armies of empowered beings. I've watch artificial gods rise and fall; I did not think much of my immortality coming to its limits. The people still faithful and loyal to the Ultraterreans lined the last defense fleet up against the invading Interstellar Vampires, a faction of vampires who survived Earth's destruction. I flew before them expensing an energy beam leveling half the Vampires fleet. My people followed suit. I remember the proud feeling of seeing ship after enemy ship fall to an allied blast as slipped into a deep sleep, floating in the cold void awaiting saving. I assumed that this was it and that my legacy would live on through my people. However I did see the following events coming whatsoever.
Post-galactic year 2457
It was as if a divine light had been shined into the unwaivering darkness. I could feel my muscles tense and the feeling return to every inch of my body. My heart beats first bump brought tears of confusion and pain as I felt the energy swell inside my core. Yes. Yes. Yes. My connection had returned. Once again, I knew, the power of infinite realities had found me again. With this I rose to the darkness and pushed upwards with all my strength against feet thick stone. As I did light began to feel the space and roars of what seemed to be a town square echoed through my superhearing. I climbed out to my feet and stood side by side to a statue of my self. The first Ultraterrean dictator to fall, Immortal Man. It reminded me of what happened in the war but my sigh of relief was soon interrupted as I took a gaze. Nothing looked familiar, save the position of the moons. Time has passed, alot of time. And by the looks on these people faces, it seems they've also never seen a "God" before.....
Lol trash at writing enjoy. | 2019-10-26T01:29:21 | 2019-10-26T00:49:39 | 35 | 21 |
[WP] Your parents insist you are their biological child, but you suspect otherwise. You send samples from yourself, your parents, and siblings to a lab be tested. The lab replies that it is not equipped to test non-human DNA... | My hands shake violently as I tear open the letter. The mailman looks at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am. I certainly used to think so myself, all those times I felt like something was *wrong* with me - that something about me was different. I know I was being irrational, an angsty, paranoid teenager, but still... I have to know. Even though my parents keeps reassuring me that I'm just like everyone else ("but you're still special!"), I have to be sure. And now I have the answer in my hands.
Trying to steady myself, I unfold the single sheet of paper and skim through the lines. *"Dear Mr... thank you for... curious as to where you acquired...* And there it is.
I feel like the world stands still. Everything else fades into the distance until it's just me and the letter in a vast black sea. I don't know how long I stand like that, but eventually, I hear my Mom's voice cut through the black.
"Honey? Are you okay? What's that in your hand?"
Her words are drowned out by the contents of the letter, echoing in my head: *"We were unable to process the sample, but I took the liberty of sending it to a colleague of mine..."* I look down at my hand and see for the first time that it's not really a hand. My legs almost collapse under me, unable to bear to weight of the truth. I let out a cry for help that sounds like nothing out of a human throat. All the while, the last line of the letter echoes on like a bell: *"The sample is not human. It is actually the DNA of a crustacean from the Paleolithic Era. Enclosed, you'll find a bill for $3.50."*
The ground shrinks away from me, making me dizzy, and I drop the letter when I realize my hand is actually an enormous webbed fin. The letter falls to the floor. I try to run but my stumpy hind legs won't let me, and for the first time in my life, I walk like a dinosaur. | "I don't get it! Your DNA just goes C, C, C *over and over again*! I've done it again, and I've done it again! I've made Mathew do it, I've sent it off to *China* to be done again. By all rights you should be a pile of sludge on the ground" He leaned in so that I could feel his hot breath on my face "*What are you*?"
I had sent them in samples a few weeks ago, and had received a bizarre reply moments later from an intern at HelixIO telling me they couldn't sequence non-human DNA, but I assumed they had made an error, so I sent another one in. This happened a few times, but it had obviously caught the eye of a superior, because the replies had stopped, and then I had received a neat letter in the post, asking me to get on the train to London at once.
"*And I'll be damned if I don't find out*" He said, a long thin smile spreading across his face as he picked up a scalpel. | 2015-01-06T10:21:48 | 2015-01-06T10:17:41 | 67 | 34 |
[WP] A vampire meets a local human they feel would make a great vampire. They're hedonistic, intelligent, masterfully artful, and live with no regard to consequences. The vampire expected them to be grateful. Instead, the human is furious, the human was actually looking forward to dying soon. | "Bro, not cool."
The vampire was stunned. She had gotten a lot of lines over the years after turning someone, but the sentiment here was a first. Even turning a vampire hunter generally got her some sort of weird distorted gratitude.
"I'm not a 'bro'," she said, a bit annoyed.
"*Bro*."
She glared back.
"Why you do this?" He asked.
"Grant you eternal life? Resurrect you from the dead? Oh gee, I dunno. How about before you ask why, you give me a thank you?"
The young man shook his head.
"You don't get it. You only live once. What's the point of living as if I only live once if I live more than once?"
"But-"
"Tsk tsk. Don't be so attached to form. Isn't what makes a flower beautiful that it'll one day wilt?"
"I don't-"
The young man sighed.
"I can't say I'm suicidal. But at the same time I've accepted death. A moment in which I'm dead and a moment in which I'm alive, what's the difference? Am I not still me? Energy is energy, matter is matter, dust to dust and all that nonsense.
"But now, it's like you've extended my life, but only the moment when I've started cooking to when I've finished cooking and sat down to eat.
"'Isn't it great, you can now spending 300 years cooking instead of 1 hour before you get a chance to eat!'
"Like no! It's not great!"
The vampire stared at him for a long time.
"I'm so confused."
"Me too bro. Me too."
"Don't call me bro." | Eugene sat up from the hospital bed he'd spent the last five years confined to and looked into his grandsons hopeful puppy dog eyes. He'd been a heart beat away from the finish line and just as he was about to run through the ribbon it vannished.
He'd never felt so demoralized in his life and that was really saying something considering he'd survived the great depression and the second world war.
Jumping to his feet, he crossed the room at an impossible speed and asked as he slapped the young man upside the head, "What are you? Stupid?!" | 2021-07-06T22:58:05 | 2021-07-06T21:57:12 | 70 | 20 |
[WP] Most young mages use incredibly complex spells and extremely rare ingredients to summon their familiar. You just drew a circle and threw a bag of chips in it. | Three years in and still I needed remedial tutoring. It was humiliating. I knew all the spells, could recite all the formulas, but once it came time to actually put it into practice, the magic always did what it wanted, when it wanted, no matter what I tried. It did have a bad tendency to knock random items off walls and tables, and all my teachers *hated* that.
I sat at my desk and stared listlessly at my spellbook. At a knock on my door, I jerked upright. Already knowing it was my longtime tutor and friend, Sherry, I didn’t even bother trying to pretend like I had cleaned. I just threw the door open and walked away.
‘Well hello to you too!’ She said drily. I just rolled my eyes and grunted.
‘I thought we’d try that summoning circle again today.’ Man, she was really determined to get under my skin today. She knew I couldn’t get it to work. But we both knew that getting my familiar to finally reveal itself might help figure out my problems with magic.
Familiars tend to reflect the magic of their mage. For example, Sherry’s familiar, a small mockingbird, reflected her ability to observe magic once and replicate it. Obviously, magic had always come easily to her. Try as I might, I couldn’t resent her for that. She always stuck by me and believed one day we’d figure out the key to make my magic work.
‘Whatever,’ I sighed as I cleared the black floor and dug my chalk out of my backpack. I began the painstaking process of drawing out the summoning circle.
Two hours, four complicated drawings of the circle, many four letter words, and a very sore back later, I slumped back against my desk.
‘It’s no use. It’s just not going to happen. I may as well just move on to something else...’ I rubbed the bridge of my nose to soothe my aching head.
‘Come on, one more time. It really felt like you were so close that last time!!’ Sherry began to erase the previous circle. When she was done, she pulled me off the floor and pressed the chalk back into my hands. ‘You can absolutely do this. Come on.’
I moved back to the middle of the room with my hands on my hips and sighed heavily. One more time? I’d give her one more time.
With a quick movement, I scrawled a messy, crooked circle (if I’m being honest, it was more an oval), began the incantations and moved to the side. As I continued chanting, I threw my last sacrifice to tempt my familiar into the center of my drawing. To my surprise, it began to glow. As I continued with the spells, the light grew brighter and brighter until, with a blinding flash and final shout, the light disappeared and the room rang with silence.
When my eyes cleared of the light spots, I had to blink a few times. There, in the center of the circle, was a small black and white ball of fur.
I sat down abruptly in shock, and a head popped up. *It’s about time you figured things out* I heard in my head.
My new cat familiar sat up and began to wash her whiskers. As my mind began to comprehend what it was seeing, all of a sudden, my problems with my magic made sense.
*So where’s my food bowl and if I see the bottom of it, I swear you won’t sleep for a week*
First time posting, first short story (ever), and I’m sure there’s grammar errors. This just popped into my head and I couldn’t get it to leave! | “No! I can’t do this stupid spell!” I screamed and flailed my arms. I felt I had hit something on accident and turned to the large wobbly circle on the floor.
It was a bag of chips, half empty (or half full...), limited time flavour of dragon tail.
I was too lazy to pick it up, so I chanted the spell used to teleport an item into your hand.
It was the brightest light I had ever seen in my life. It was, though, a black light. “What have I done!?” I screamed.
Lightning struck the chips, even though it was in my room (Which was in the basement.) A strange gas started streaming out of the bag. “My chiiips! I was eating those!”
Suddenly, the light faded, and the gas ignited itself on fire. The fire, too, was black. “Whoooooooooooooooo suuuuuummooooooooneeeed meeeeeeeee?!” A silhouette called from the circle after the fire disappeared.
“Gah!” I jumped back and the thing reached down.
“Ooh, chips!” It started eating my chips. “Yum, dragon tail flavour!”
As the normal lights came back, I realized it wasn’t a monster, but instead it was a huge, fat, chunky, obese, overweight, plump, chubby, ample, tubby, big, stout human. “Who are you!?” I yelled and brandished my staff.
“Oh, hi there! I’m Glutthog of the fat clan!” It attempted to smile, but fell flat trying to do so.”And who are you?”
“I’m Elyna, the Necro-Mage.” I quickly said, then tightened my grip on the staff as Glutthog stood up.
“That doesn’t seem to be going well for you, as I’m not even mortal, let alone dead!” He said with a chuckle. His belly shook when he laughed.
“I- uh... I need to go to school, stay here, don’t make noise!” I said to him as I walked upstairs.
“Bring some cake when you’re back!”
“Fine!”
When I got home from school, I had a small sponge cake in my hand and my knapsack in the other. Glutthog was lying on the sofa in my room, as still as stone. I placed the cake next to him and watched as he shoved the whole thing down his throat with a very loud swallow.
“Delicious!” | 2019-04-05T15:47:48 | 2019-04-05T15:46:22 | 102 | 12 |
[WP] Murder is rare; killing someone means their remaining years are 'subtracted' from yours. Likewise, saving a life (or lives) adds time to your own. Nobody knows why. Centuries ago you killed a young man by accident (usually resulting in instant death). You haven't aged since. | It was in the old barn that I first noticed the young man. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and dressed very fashionable. He wore a long tailed coat, and a fancy hat. He had a wisp of a moustache, and I recall his fine boots looking odd against the mud of the barn floor. He moved swiftly toward the pig pen, while failing to notice me overhead, trying to replace a beam that was worn too thin. It was dark, and I had too many chores during the day to finish, but I didn't want to risk the roof collapsing overnight.
The man below was unprepared for my mistake. In my exhaustion, I dropped the wooden beam from the rafters. The wood splintered when it hit the ground, and impaled the intruder. I expected to die immediately. The man looked to be wealthy, and those folks lived a lot longer than farmhands. The laws of karmic exchange taking life when you take, and giving life when you give. Instead of dying, or growing immediately old, however, nothing happened.
It took some time, more than a decade, for me to understand what had happened. The man's death went unreported, as I buried him that same night, to avoid any trouble with the law. I left a small marker on his grave, so that I would know, even if nobody else would. If karma had let me off the hook, I wouldn't want to face the executioner's block for my accident. But some years later, a similarly well-dressed man came into my small town, looking for his 'brother'. I knew it had to be the man I killed.
I told the man I knew his brother, and invited him back to my family's farm to explain things. When we arrived, I showed him the makeshift marker on his brother's grave. When I told him I had killed his brother, he turned on me, which I can't say I didn't expect. What I didn't expect, however, was how he came at me. Crouched. Eyes wide and a bloody red. Fingers that turned to claws. Teeth bared, with pointed fangs.
The stake I used to mark the dead man's grave went on to slay his 'brother', and I learned why it was I didn't age. Karmic exchange had subtracted a negative from me, since Vampires were already dead, and could theoretically 'live' forever.
I don't know how much time I've been given, but I've moved on from the farm, so long ago, when Charles the First was king. Now, I search for other 'brothers' of my accidental victim. Only now, they aren't accidental. | His name was Abraham. I still remember him like it happened just yesterday. He was a dark brown-skinned boy with light blue eyes. I didn’t mean to push him over the cliff, but I was running from the Egyptians and he was in my way. I still think about that moment everyday and why that tragedy didn’t initiate my demise.
Why weren’t his years subtracted from mine? He had to have had at least 60 years left, but I took that from him. But now I’m immortal. What kind of game are the gods playing with me? Was he destined to be a diabolical mass murderer? Would his descendants cause destruction and devastation across the earth? What gives me the right to live when he’s dead? Did I save the world from the pain of multiple religious wars?
I don’t know why the gods blessed me with this immortality, and damned that child to an early death, but the Roman Empire has been spreading innovation and technology across the globe and, being the Emperor’s advisor for the last 400 years has had its perks. I’d hate to see a backwards religious institution hamper the development of society.
Edit: So as not to offend any Christians, I am Christian and I’m not saying that the patriarch Abraham is responsible for the religious wars between the descendants of Ishmael and Isaac. I’m saying that if Abraham hadn’t had both sons, there might be a lot less religious in-fighting in the world. Also, the descendants of Noah were prophesied to war with each other, but if you believe the Bible, killing Noah would have damned humanity to cease to exist. | 2020-11-02T00:39:10 | 2020-11-01T23:32:54 | 88 | 48 |
[WP] Since you are the only known immortal, NASA has been using you during the last 3 decades to explore our solar system | "Anna, Can you tell me how long I've been in this quadrant?"
A pale glow emits from the lamps on my helmet and Anna appears in front of me. She is beautiful, I suppose some back on earth might have thought she was a model. The person who had designed Anna had in fact taken her design from a beautiful model know as Ilanna Vanko. Knowing this I guess some humans might be right.
"It has been 7 rotations since your last check, Jack."
I chuckle. The name Jack still gives me a smile, it wasn't my true name of course. I had forgotten my given name many years before my eventual "discovery" by NASA.
"Alright keep me updated Anna, Let me know when it's time for dinner?"
Anna smiles, causing a slight glitch in her form. She always loves to make me dinner. I suppose that might be part of her programming. I don't really mind, at this point she's more real than any other person to me.
"Always, my love."
She disappears with a wink, back to base camp. I begin my walk through the quadrant again, my gun swinging carelessly by my side. I haven't had to use it in the past three systems, I doubt I will ever have to use it again if the planets I'm on continue to be like this.
Currently I'm on Planet Hovel, locate ten solar systems away from our own. I stopped finding life five solar systems ago. Planet Hovel is not one that many would enjoy. It is mountainous in appearance, I made the mistake of assuming this was true. It is instead a planet of frozen liquid. Streams run like veins under the ice, beside them grow what I can only describe as gigantic mushrooms. I had descended upon this planet with excitement but I believe I will leave heavy hearted. I believed the mushrooms to be life but in my rashness I did not realize they were just forms of ice.
"Hello, Jack."
I turn to find someone I'd never expected to see in the next million years. Jacklyn Turner. The woman who first named me at NASA. Her blonde hair shines brightly against the cold ice as I stare at her. She's still wearing the yellow dress with pink flowers that I got her before I left.
"Did you miss me?"
Her smile is the same. Nothing is different. Not a damn thing. I can hear my heart rate increasing in my ears. My eyes stare into hers and I can't move. Damn, she was the only woman who could ever do this to me.
"Don't your remember me? Don't you love me?"
She purses her lips and the way that I so distinctly remember. I fall to my knees. My helmet is now fogging up because of how heavily I'm breathing. Places and times flash across my eyes. That time when I took her to Paris and she cried when she saw the Eiffel tower. That time when I showed her all the photos of myself throughout history, always looking 19, the age I froze at. That time when she showed me that her grandfather had fought with me in World War II. That time when.....
I grab my gun from my side and aim it at the woman I loved. I remember the time when I left. I told her it'd only be a week. Besides, I loved her, nothing would stop me from getting back to her. Absolutely nothing...
"Dar..."
My bullet cuts off her words as she shatters into a million pieces, turning back in to the ice that surrounded me. For the first time in a long time I scream.
............................
Anna smiles when I return. There are two bowls set out on the table, both have steaming burgers lying on them.
"How was the rest of the quadrant?"
I sit down by the plate that isn't a hologram, removing my helmet and placing it on the table.
"It was fine. Nothing unusual." I run my hands through my blonde hair and stretch. The tears that ran across my face hours ago have long since disappeared.
"Do we need to report back to NASA?"
I glare at her. She always asks that. Always. NASA programmed her to. She looks at me with concern and I sigh. She doesn't remember. She never does. Never. I look her in the eyes and explain for the three hundred and first time.
"Anna you know what happened. Earth's dead. Everyone's gone....everyone." | “Ground Control to Major Tom”
“Please, no more. I get it, that song was a nice homage. But how the hell did Bowie learn about me? Which one of you talked?” He hadn’t heard the song since Bowie first got in contact with the team, back in February.
A hint of laughter could be heard in the background of Control’s transmission, “We thought he was like you and you two talked about things from time to time. Either way, since we can finally see you again, status report, please.”
“Jupiter is, breathtaking. Not just in the literal sense. This giant is beyond compare. I think it’s my favorite.” Tom began to manage the control matrix in front of him, flicking switches and adjusting knobs. “Sending the data now.” He was a little sad that his work might never get appreciated by someone other than a scientist. “Maybe one day more people can see this stuff. In a couple of decades, when technology catches up.”
“Tom!” Control’s sudden burst was startling. Did he mess up with sending the data and cause it to corrupt? “You didn’t get any of our communications for the last month, did you?”
Something was odd with the way they were acting, “that’s a negative.”
“We did it. You did it. Humans landed on the moon.”
The words seems to absorb everything. It wasn’t just the lack of gravity in his little pod that was giving him this odd sensation. Realization that something he did is making an impact. “Say again.”
“We landed on the moon.”
Tom felt euphoric hearing the words again, a huge grin spreading across his face.
“Neil and Edwin, both, had foot fall. That was two weeks ago, now. We classified your visit three years ago as unmanned, and many of those pictures are becoming available to the public. Mostly the ones from particular perspectives, so it can be said it was from one particular probe. We classified those pictures coming from a probe we named Surveyor.”
Tom was crying. Tears of joy and happiness. “I need a minute, guys.”
“Hold.”
“Holding.” Tom needed to stretch his legs, but he would wait.
“You said maybe people would see what you’re working on. We’re already working on a plan. It’s being sold to the higher ups that it’ll take a decade to do, but we know we can do it in less. We’re going to send a probe with the public mission of studying the outer solar system. We’re going to publish your pictures as coming from that. Tom? Still there?”
“Haha, yea. I’m here,” he was wiping the tears from his eyes since they were just collecting on his face.
“Take your walk.”
“Roger. Be back in ten.”
Tom opened the hatch. The temperature outside wasn’t that much different than what was inside. The cold didn’t bother him, though being warm was more pleasant and easier to move around in. He continued to gather the tears from his eyes, now he had no worry of them messing up any of the electronics. They were already starting to freeze, losing warmth to his skin. He flung them out toward the immense planet that looked at him with a great big eye. He couldn’t speak, but mouthed the words, “give me a thousand years big guy. I will touch your surface.”
| 2018-01-17T12:08:44 | 2018-01-17T09:53:30 | 29 | 14 |
[WP] As a chronicling time-traveler, you know that you may only observe history and not introduce anything to the timeline. It's a rule that is never violated. One night you overhear a traveling minstrel in 1582 England tell the tale of "Luke the Skywalker" and his fight against the "Dark Knight." | “Good sirs gather ‘round!” I hear the minstrel say, as he begins to softly strum his lute. “And let me tell you of a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away!”
The crowd of peasants stare at this strange man with curiosity.
“Look!” he says, pointing up to the night sky. “Up to the stars! And there is where my tale takes place. A tale of good and evil. A tale of great men and great women. Heroes and villains! Princes and princesses! Sacrifice. Love. Treachery. All that your heart can desire!”
I am quietly recording this man in the back of the crowd and transmitting it back to my time sync. I have been on to his game for a couple days now, and tonight my hard work will pay off with a hard-earned bounty.
“It is the greatest tale ever told," the minstrel says, strumming harder on his lute. The night air fills with the romance of a space opera story. "All that hear this tale are consumed in wonder! For it is a tale of Luke the Skywalker and his fight against the Dark Knight. The *evil* Darth Vader!”
*Oohhh*, the crowd let out gasps. He had them now. The Darth Vader always gets them.
“This story begins with Princess Leia, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy! Being captured by the great villain Darth Vader!”
As I’m wondering when they will arrive, my curiosity isn’t long lived as Disney Corp’s time travelling copyright cops appear behind the crowd and roughly shove their way forward.
The minstrel lets out a squeal, drops his lute with a hollow clang, and begins to run, but one of the cops shoots him with a pulse rifle, stunning him.
They walk up to him slowly, and the other cop leans over, placing cuffs on him. “You are under arrest for the unauthorized reproduction and time-warp distribution of this copyrighted work.”
The crowd of peasants look flabbergasted as the two officers, in their sleak, futuristic uniforms drag the kicking and screaming minstrel off the stage. They open a portal and step through, along with the minstrel. They'll have him arraigned at the Mickey Mouse court house in no time and that's when I can collect my bag.
I feel kind of bad though. Criminal copyright infringement of a Disney Corp product is a penalty of no less than fifty years hard labor at Disney Galaxy on Andromeda 3.
But the seventy thousand MickeyCoin bounty is too tempting to pass up.
\---
More [stories](https://www.reddit.com/r/CataclysmicRhythmic/wiki/index) at [r/CataclysmicRhythmic](https://www.reddit.com/r/CataclysmicRhythmic/) | This freaking guy again... and in swing time? Dude- they won't even invent the triplet for like 400 years- jackass. Yeah, okay- it's entertaining and we all know nothing really changes in the timeline where Hitler wears a black helmet and calls himself a Sith. But I mean- can we at least pretend like this is still an legitimate profession?
Last time I saw him pull a stunt like this he'd basically put together a Gwar coverband using actual Roman Gladiators and Christian martyrs. It was messy. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't rock. Dude has talent- he's just a freaking sociopath, and a historically cruel monster. But let's face it- who hasn't been at least a few times?
Nobody gets a time-license and doesn't become a psychopathic god for at least a few generations in some fractured timeline, it's a right of passage. But this guy- dude just won't give it a rest with the pop culture nonsense.
If you're going to alter a timeline- teach cavemen the phalanx or something. Or give an Egyptian priest a HAM radio license. That's how you study culture. I get it- human civilization is a joke until we get off Earth- but what do we really learn by teaching Kid Rock songs to a bunch of early Buddhists? The chants are hilarious, but is it really worth it?
I should report this... I should- but obviously I can't. Even if he wasn't a trust-fund clone- nobody really cares. The Continuity Enforcement Bureau is toothless and the entire Temporal-Industrial complex will squash anyone who threatens the status quo. Also I'm still on probation because of that Turkish harem incident... but at least the lies I told those ladies were from their era- that's all I'm sayin' | 2021-03-15T21:22:53 | 2021-03-15T20:29:41 | 2,258 | 300 |
[WP] “I’m sorry this is the last straw—you’re fired.” Your boss says. “Fine!” You exclaim. “Here’s my badge and gun!” You slam them on the desk but your boss looks confused. “What the fuck? Why do you need a gun and badge when you’re a waiter?” | "I'm sorry, this is the last straw! You're fired!" The new boss says.
I blink, then I blink again, I look around the dingy office of the Chinese restaurant, then back at the boss, "I'm... Fired? Fired!?"
"That's right! You're never here on time! You vanish in the middle of your shift! You swear at the customers! You're fired!"
I take a deep breath, and then nod, "Fine!", I pull out my service weapon from the holster, not noticing as the boss goes pale, and then pull out my wallet, unhook my badge. I slam the badge onto the desk, then eject the clip from my gun, slam the clip onto the desk, unchamber the round from the gun, catch it in mid air, and slam both the gun and the bullet down on the desk as well, "Here's my badge and gun!"
I turn, and take a step towards the door of the office, as I hear the boss take a deep breath, and let out, loudly, "What the **FUCK**!? Who do you need a _gun and a badge_!? You're a waiter!"
I stop, foot in the air, feelings rushing through me. Confusion, rage, amusement, horror.
I turn around again, and just stare at the boss. The new boss. He's only been here a month. A replacement for the Old Man, while he's out recovering. The cover story was a robber mugged him on his way home.
I take the step back to the desk, and lean over it, towards my boss, both hands on the desk, "Who, _exactly_, interviewed you for this job? Where did you get your training? And **who briefed you**?"
"What the fuck!? This is just a bloody restaurant! And you're fired!" Replies the still clearly shaken boss.
I straighten back up, and calmly, though not exactly slowly, pick up the gun and the clip, slide the clip into the gun, chamber a round, flip off the safety, and level the gun directly at the boss' head, "How did you get this job, exactly?"
The boss is now ghost white, is trembling, and... From the smell, he just voided his bladder. He gulps, then gulps again, unable to take his eyes off the barrel of the gun pointed at his head, "I saw the sign! The sign! The one out front! I called the number! I don't _remember_ who I talked to! I said I wanted the job! Yeah, maybe I fibbed a bit on my qualifications, but who doesn't!? **Who doesn't**!? Look, take whatever you want! Empty the cash drawers! I'll give you my wallet! You can keep the job!"
I take a deep breath, thoughts running through my head, and then I switch to a one handed hold of the gun, reach over to the wired desk phone on the boss' desk, turn it around, hit the speaker phone button, and press the buttons for an internal call, dial a 5 digit extension, and a heart beat later, a voice answers, "Steven and Sons Supply, how may I direct your call?"
I answer, my voice steady, "Agent 78124, code purple, possible codes pink or orange. Location beta 5 insecure."
There is a brief pause, then the voice responds, "We have received your order. Your delivery will arrive shortly. Is the defective product a bio hazard?"
I consider this for a moment, eyes locked on the boss, who is looking increasingly panicked, his eyes still locked on the barrel of the gun, his mouth hanging open, but no words coming out, sweat running down his face, "Uncertain."
"Confirmed. Please dispose of any bio hazards at your discretion." There is a click, and the line goes dead. | The papers, pens and mug that says “World's Best Boss” go flying off and around the desk as the .35 rubber dart gun and plastic badge slam down with a thud again. I picked them up and re-slammed them for dramatic effect.
“*You just can’t handle my gung-ho manner, that’s all*.”
My now former Boss, the world's best, stares at me in disbelief. Annoyance and confusion fighting for the premier spot on his face. His eyes fill with what seems to be tears before I realise he has been looking at me for going on a minute.
Finally the glass mirror shatters as he erupts out of his chair, again the already messed assortment goes flying this way and that.
“*What the hell is wrong with you*?” The words come spilling out as he spills over his desk, grabbing at me in a rage. I snatch up the .35, cock it and pull. What could I do?
The orange translucent dart releases from the barrel and in what can only be described in terms of film magic, the world slows down. The click of the hammer rings out with an echo, the mug grinds against the desk as it begins its journey to the waste bin. Papers, pens, his computer and keyboard begin to pelt the ground like the rain on a cool Autumn day.
The dart gleams in the fluorescent yellow glow of the ceiling lights, coursing towards the forehead of Jerry, my former boss. World's Best.
I fall back a step, my movement slow and flowing. Jerry, red in the face coming towards me with the killing glint that a bull exhibits when the matador is in its crosshairs. Still the contents of the desk pelt the ground as I can hear Jerry’s desk chair toppling and hitting the wall behind.
The world slows more, and now I hear it.The deep, thrombotic moan of this wilder-beast. Jerry, arms outstretched in a v, howling like a mad man. The dart has found its mark. Bang on target. The centre of his forehead, a kill shot.
My world goes dark as time kicks back in. The only thing I hear is a dull thud and a crack as my soul is ejected from my body.
––
“And that’s how you ended up here is it? Shooting a dart at your boss's head?”
“*Yep, that’s about it, more or less*. I am sure there is more but my head is splitting.” I say.
The bearded, finely robed man grins. Light pouring out from around him. “*Fair enough then, in you go*.”
He gestures at me to enter through the Pearly Gates.
“*Oh! Word of advice, don’t try that with the Big Boss in there. His son tried something like that a while back, and let’s just say–it didn’t turn out well for Lucy*.” | 2022-07-29T12:46:52 | 2022-07-29T09:11:32 | 84 | 27 |
[WP] Humans have always been feared throughout the universe for surviving in the harshest environments, drinking and eating highly poisonous drinks and foods as well as taming and even domesticating dangerous beasts. One applies for a position at your company. | N'Tur thought back to the fateful day when he came across the profile of Dave. He had been terrified. No way could he hire a human. They were crazy. But it had been an inspired choice. Dave was now one of his best employees.
The fact that he still scared the shit out of N'tur was a different matter.
The screen on his desk lit up and the grotesque face of Dave showed up. He pressed a button and let him in.
Dave casually strolled in and took a seat. "Boss."
"Dave. I have your next assignment."
"Cool. Hit me."
"I'm sorry? I would never hit you."
"Oh... No... I meant what is it?"
N'tur moved around uncomfortably in his chair. It was odd, of course. The chair was specially made for him, based on his measurements. All of the chairs were, nowadays. He handed a small spherical disc to Dave. "Here."
Dave clicked a button and a holographic image showed up showing the target, along with the location they were last seen. "Wait a second, that's..."
"Yes. None of my agents are willing to take this mission. Too dangerous. And because it's so dangerous, the quill amount on this is triple the usual."
"But how... I thought... you know."
"As did I. Will you do it?"
"You betcha."
N'tur gave him an uncomfortable smile. It was weird. How could this guy be happy to go on such a mission? It was almost as if he enjoyed this craziness.
Dave took the disc and was heading out when he stopped and turned around. "Oh, before I forget. Did they work out the tea?"
"Ah yes. Marvin has been working hard on it. I'll have him send the latest sample. Check if he has been able to get it close to the real thing. At the molecular level atleast, its the same thing."
"I dunno about the molecule thing or whatever. I'll check the taste. I'd kill for a good cup of tea."
N'tur sat up straight. Kill for a cup of tea. This guy was really insane. "No. Please. I'm trying my best. We worked out the whiski thing, didn't we? We'll get this too."
Dave gave him a confused glance. "Sure boss. No worry, no hurry. That's what my pops used to say. I'll go check this out and keep you updated."
As good as Dave was for his business, N'tur breathed a sigh of relief when he exited his office.
***********
Dave got out of his spaceship and entered the bar, turning a few heads. He was too lost in his thoughts to notice anything though. He kept going back to the image of his target. How was it possible?
He went to the bartender and sat on a stool.
The bartender, after getting over his initial shock, came over to him. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Can I get just get some water? H2O."
"OK. Anything to dilute it with?"
"Nah, I'm good."
"Are you sure, man?"
"Yes I am. It's just water, dude."
The bartender stared at him for a minute but finally got him some water. Dave drank it in one big gulp and handed the glass back.
The bartender's eyes widened. "More?"
"Yeah. And bring a bigger glass. This tiny one barely wets my throat."
"I'm legally obligated to tell you that having that amount of H2O is...."
"... is toxic and can lead to severe intoxication or worse. Yeah, I know. I'll take it anyways."
The bartender got him some water in a massive glass.
Dave took a sip and took out the disk. He brought up his target's image. "Hey bud, you ever see this person here?"
"I did. It was a couple of days ago. You know I had never see one before and now..."
"I know. Was there someone with them?"
"A beast. I can't really describe it. Small. 4 legs. Furry. Big teeth."
"How big?"
The bartender pointed to a bottle. "About that tall."
Dave nodded. "Any idea where I can find them?"
"I wouldn't know."
"That camera. Can you show me the footage?"
"That... I don't know if I can."
Dave pulled out a few notes of the currency and handed it to the bartender. "Oh come on. We're all friends here."
"All? Is there someone else. And this is too much quills. Your bill is for less."
Dave gave him a smile and raised his eyebrows. "Keep it. I won't tell anyone."
The bartender was counting the money. "Why would I keep it. Your drink is only..." At that instance he looked up and saw Dave wiggling his eyebrows. This freaked him out so much that he just put the money in his pocket and led Dave to the security room.
They went over the footage and Dave saw his target refer to a map.
"Can you like enhance that? Like in CSI."
"What does the Center of Scientific Inquisitors have to do with it?"
"Like make it bigger."
"Oh! I can do that."
Dave had what he needed. He gave the bartender the finger guns. "Thanks bro. You're a life saver."
The bartender was shocked and scared. The guy had just tried to shoot him with his hands and also thanked him for saving his life. He didn't ever want to see a human ever again. They were fucking crazy.
************
Dave reached the junkyard and looked around. Piles of metal everywhere. A good place to hide.
"Hello. Anybody here?"
He kept walking along the path, old rusting spaceships piled everywhere around him. He heard a sound that made him pause. He closed his eyes, trying to focus. There it was again.
He followed the sound to the source.
"Hey!"
The woman turned around, pointing her welding machine at him. "Stay away or I'll kill you."
"Uh... Hey."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Dave. Who are you?"
"Name's Tory. Where did you come from?"
He got down to one knee and the cat came to him. It got close and when it saw that Dave's intention was to pet it, decided that was against its principles and turned back around and went to the woman.
"Mr Mittens doesn't like to be pet. Who are you?"
Dave adjusted his cap and gave her a smile. "I'm Dave, a recovery agent. I've been sent here to bring you in."
"Who paid you?"
"I can't tell you that. But anyways, more importantly, I thought earth was destroyed. I checked. It wasn't there. I thought I was the only one."
"It was. But TekSystems, a big company back on earth was able to save a bunch of us. We were glad at first but then they showed their true intentions. In exchange for saving our life, they have us work the mines non stop. We go planet to planet, stripping it of all usable resources. I managed to escape in a cargo ship. I'm building a spaceship so I can go back and save my people."
"That's weird. I think TekSystems is the name of the company that hired me too."
"Well, then Dave. What will it be? Do I need to cut you up? Or will you help?"
"Well..." | A human is, by and large, an exceptionally foolish creature. It would take an exceptionally foolish creature to consider a job with the Thetan Lava-miners.
&#x200B;
"Well, we're at the end of the technical portion of the interview, if you don't mind, let's just go over some personal stuff."
&#x200B;
"Sure thing, should we head down to the pub and get a pint?"
&#x200B;
"Uhm. No."
&#x200B;
The 'pub,' as this human called it, was a wretched cave the humans had erected downtown in Thetanopolis. The place reeked of grime and disease. Humans sat around the place in stupors, drinking a thing they called ale, a neurotoxin which famously ate away at the human physiology over years. If they managed enough self control not to kill themselves in one go. And these stuporous humans would sit there, puffing away at cyanide laced sticks, toxifying the air.
&#x200B;
"What sort of things do you do for fun?"
&#x200B;
"Snowboarding man, that's why I'm so excited to work on Thetan Three, you guys have the gnarliest peaks!"
&#x200B;
Ah, snowboarding. Three humans died every year at their polar colony. Absolutely insane, they would strap themselves into these rickety chain-chairs in the polar vortexes, drag themselves to the tops of the mountains, then, for no reason whatsoever, throw themselves off. They didn't even bring mountaineering gear, instead they strapped themselves into cumbersome, ultra-slick planks of wood.
&#x200B;
"Right, and what is your dream job?"
&#x200B;
"Oh I don't know, I think when I retire, if I have enough money, it would be nice to get a little plot out of town with a little flock of sheep, shepherd around and do a little writing."
&#x200B;
Figures, it wants to get as close as possible to disease vectors. Even after the robot revolution they have some incomprehensible urge to go back to the font of death, despite that same mistake eradicating 50% of their species. Not even one time. Like a dozen times.
&#x200B;
"Okay, well, we just have one final test for you, if you'll step in please."
&#x200B;
I opened the experichamber door and shuffled the human in. The experichamber simulated a worst-case scenario on the job, directly modifying the consciousness of the testee for full immersion. An avalanche of stress, a dollop of unsurity, a sprinkling of panic, and a hint of despair.
&#x200B;
The human stepped inside. It was confronted with a worst case scenario. The hover-miner had been disabled by a rogue lava-tremor, the crew of the ship was heavily wounded and the shipment in danger of being forfeited to the flame. It was a simple test, for insurance purposes, the human needed to grab the last jetpack and get out of there, an employee's first duty was to protect itself.
&#x200B;
\---
\*\*\*
\---
&#x200B;
"Woah, what the fu--"
&#x200B;
"Augh. I'm so burned. Augh. Help."
&#x200B;
"Holy moly what happened to your face?!"
&#x200B;
"Augh. My legs were burned by a lava splash. Augh. Help."
&#x200B;
"Oh, right, sorry, it's a beautiful face, ignore m-- oh what fresh devilry is this then!"
&#x200B;
A lava wave had begun its slow undulation toward the craft, the human had only moments to get off the ship.
&#x200B;
The human peered around frantically, saw the jetpack, and snatched it.
&#x200B;
Then it started ripping it apart. The interviewer dropped his face to his paws. They really were as stupid as everyone said.
&#x200B;
The human bustled about snatching up frayed wires, tinkering with the jetpack, then strapped it on his companion.
&#x200B;
"Right, tentacle-face, listen to me, I need you to just strap yourself in here and--"
&#x200B;
"Augh. The pain. It really is quite unpleasant. It burns. You should save yourself... wink wink."
&#x200B;
"Wink win-- what? Strap yourself in this you moron, we're going to die!"
&#x200B;
The human forced the jetpack onto his dying comrade. The interviewer had seen this before. Instant insurance failure. Nobody needed employees that would just kill themselves.
&#x200B;
The human slammed a button and shot the podmate on a wildly dangerous course, away from the shore opposite and high into the mountains. Great.
&#x200B;
The human scuffled about and grabbed the ore shipment, shoving it into his pack and... And there was a long coil of wire streaming from the jetpack in flight. The human grabbed it. The shipmate slammed bodily and rather painfully into a sharp maw of rocks.
&#x200B;
"You okay up there tentacles?"
&#x200B;
The human got no response. The volunteer interviewer grimaced into her comms unit to the interviewing command room, angry and confused. The main interviewer shrugged back over the comms apologetically. Then 'tentacles's' face erupted in surprise and fear as she was jerked back and slammed into some rock outcroppings on the ledge.
&#x200B;
The interviewer switched back to the main camera. Right in front of the lava wave, the human flew through the air, one hand grasping whiplike wires attached to his makeshift grappling hook, precious ore-load in his other hand.
&#x200B;
"INDIANA!" The [human](https://www.reddit.com/r/jacktheritter) screamed. | 2020-06-15T16:48:52 | 2020-06-15T16:26:04 | 3,297 | 880 |
[WP] When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at the park.You never saw your childhood "spouse" again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country... where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid. | The knight made a bow in front of me, his armor clanked as he bent over.
"Hail King Peter."
He handed me a letter with the blue wax seal of the Madena Kingdom. He used both hands to extend the letter to me while looking down to the floor.
"Our king's name is Avon, not Peter." I corrected the knight and took the letter. "And knights don't bow to scholars here in Bocy. Can't say I dislike it though." I smiled at the knight.
"Come, stand up. Who's this letter for?"
"It's for you, King Peter."
I switched languages to Maderi.
"Our King's name is Avon III, my name is Peter, but I'm a scholar. Who's the letter for?"
"I speak Bocoran". The knight replied. "Queen Tara told me this was a possibility."
The knight stood up and looked at me in the eye.
"You are King Peter, of Madena. Husband of your majesty Queen Tara, married with the gods as witnesses."
The knight approached to me and raised an open hand.
"Let me show you"
I'm 7 years old, playing by the park with other kids. I see a girl dressed as a princess, struggling to climb a tree. I run over to her. "I'll help you!" I climb to the top and lower the half of my body. "Grab my hand! Quick!"
"I'm falling! Heeelp!" She gave me her hand and I pulled her up with all my strength.
The image banished and I was back at my studio.
"Do you remember now?" The knight questioned me. "Or will I have to spend more of my magic?"
"No." I gestured at him to stop. "I remember now."
The memories came back to me of how we spent the day together. We played all day and when it was time to go we made a pact that we were now married and how we would stay together forever. It was all a game for 7 year old me, but we unknowingly made an unbreakable bond through the gods.
"What does Queen Tara want from me?"
"She requests your presence. It's all in the letter."
I approached a window to get more light and opened the letter.
&#x200B;
"To my dearest husband king Peter,
&#x200B;
I've helped you your whole life, its now time for you to return the favor to your Queen.
When you became an orphan, I arranged your adoption. When you lost your job I made it possible for you to become a scholar. When you took an unwise loan I persuaded the lenders to give you a good deal.
My court is growing increasingly demanding for me to get a husband and I can no longer avoid them. They demand that I marry the Duque of Tatz, but I cannot do it, because I'm already married to you. I request your presence at my court as soon as possible.
Sir Tollas, my most trusted knight, will supply you with clothes and a carriage. I know you're already aware of our customs and traditions in Madena. I humbly and most urgently request that you pretend to be a Count of my Kingdom through heritage. I will give you control of the land, serfs and gold. I have also arranged a family history that will suffice to stop the courts questioning.
&#x200B;
Eagerly awaiting your arrival,
&#x200B;
Queen Tara I
&#x200B;
&#x200B;
I looked up. "Are you sir Tollas?"
"I am." Tollas answered proudly.
"So... All my good luck was her doing?"
"Queen Tara is not someone that leaves things to fate."
"What happens if I refuse to go?"
"I repeat." Sir Tollas said, while clutching his sword. "Queen Tara is not someone that leaves things to fate." | As David finished reading the letter, he paused for a moment. He remembered that one faithful day at the park where he had the happiest time of his childhood.
*"Hello there! Are you alright?" the seven year old David asked to a girl who had scraped her knee.*
*"Mhm.. It hurts a lot. Please help.", she winced at the pain.*
*David didn't have access to a first aid kit right then and there so he did the next best thing: He comforted her.*
*"What's your name?"*
*"My name is Sarah, I hope I'm not troubling you so."*
*"Oh don't worry, you aren't. By the way, I'm David."*
*The girl looked at him, "You are very noble to stay to comfort me when there are other kids you could be playing with."*
*David thought for a moment until he had an idea.*
*"I have an idea, we could play Kingdom! I always wanted to be a prince.", the boy said innocently.*
*Sarah giggled a bit as she saw him act out a scene similar to that of a fairytale movie.*
*"Alright then, I guess I'll be the princess.", Sarah said with a faint blush on her cheeks.*
*"Do you take me to be your prince until your game is over?" he knelt down.*
*"I do, and do you take me to be your princess until your game is over?" she smiled at him.*
*"I do."*
*"Then allow me to bestow upon thee, a gift. Close your eyes, Sir David." she instructed.*
*As the boy closed his eyes, Sarah gave him a little peck on his cheek.*
*When David opened his eyes he couldn't stop blushing and start to laugh a bit. Sarah soon joined in. They talked and laughed for what felt like an eternity, until David's mom called to him.*
*"Oh shoot, my mom is calling me. Well, it was fun being with you Sarah. I would love to see you again!"*
*Sarah's smile faltered a bit, "David, today is my last day here. But I promise to never forget you."*
*David looked her in the eyes, "You promise?"*
*She nodded her head. "I promise."*
David looked at the letter again in his hands. He smiled gently to himself.
"Looks like I have some traveling to do."
(This is the first time I've ever written here, so I hope this is an ok submission! I've been browsing here for some time, and I really loved making this prompt! \^\^ I would love to hear feedback and some constructive criticism. I really loved making this little story and I hope you enjoyed reading it.) | 2021-07-14T12:40:19 | 2021-07-14T06:23:18 | 342 | 99 |
[WP] Every person in the world undergoes a "goodness" test. It's designed to give a score from 1 to 200, where 1 is pure evil, and 200 is an angel in human body. Then the world is divided into 200 zones, where people can live among their own kind. | You want to know how I got here? I'll tell you.
I was standing in queue for the test; I wasn't too worried, I was always a good liar. Maybe I should start earlier.
See, I lead a fairly simple life on the surface. I was the accountant for a small charity and made a modest income, I attended church on Sundays, I volunteered at the soup kitchen and I lived alone in a small home; I've always preferred being alone. I hoped to get in the highest ranking because there would be less people to live with.
Everyone thought I was such a people person; I had a great smile, I was extremely friendly, and I was so honest! I knew I could always get what I wanted from people if I just acted friendly enough, I never even found it tiring to keep up the act; lying just comes naturally to me. I got my job at the charity because my boss, Ed, knew I could be trusted with anything; he never found out that I embezzled tens of thousands of dollars from his charity, because he just trusted me that much. Then there was all that money I made inventing fake charities and holding charity banquets; rich people can be so gullible. It wasn't even about the money, I was comfortable living on the bare basics, I just found it all so satisfying.
Anyway, I'm getting off topic. So yes, I've never had a problem with fibbing and the test, to me, just seemed so transparent! It was a joke! And it had such a religious bias! I had no problem fudging a 195.
Do you remember seeing me during the exodus? Probably not; They had all 50 of us lined up in a row and they were briefing us on our trip. I remember staring at you from almost the opposite end of the line, you were the youngest of us, and you just looked like such a sweetheart;you were put here because of all your missionary work, right? that's cute. I remember how claustrophobic I felt when they crammed us into that plane; I couldn't stand having these people touching me, I hated them already! But I forced some pleasant small talk and made friends.
I remember when they brought us to the farm. I hadn't lived in a rural area since my teens, it brought back memories. I gazed over at the field of tall grass and weeds which gently brushed the old farm equipment as it blew with the wind; it reminded me of where I buried my mother and sister.
Why are you crying? Don't do that, let me finish. I couldn't believe what I was hearing when the officer told us we'd all be living in the same building, I just could not accept that. I needed my privacy!
Let me wipe those tears from your eyes. It's okay, don't worry, it's just the two of us now. | "Your annual re-evaluation results are in, Geoffrey", came the familiar, monotone voice of Master Computer. Some people found it creepy, but I was actually fond of the emotionless machine. You could always rely on its honesty and incorruptibility. Today, however, I would've loved to have been able to bribe, coerce or manipulate it.
"Sandra!" I called out to my wife. "Computer's back with my new score."
I took a deep breath as Sandra walked in, a familiar look of worry on the face, and turned back towards the screen.
"How'd I do, M.C.?"
I'm sure it had sounded like a great idea at the time, separating the good from the evil. The good don't deserve to suffer the misdeeds of the evil, and what could be a more appropriate way to punish those who commit them? And I'm sure it seemed like a good idea to have the re-evaluations. After all, people change over time and it would be absurd to ignore corruption and remorse. The problem was its effect on human relationships. It was hard to make friends, let alone fall in love, when everyone you know might be in different zones the next year.
Maybe it wouldn't be a problem if there weren't so many different tiers. Four or five might've been fine, but with two-hundred, the slightest change in behaviour could knock you into a different zone. This is was led to the invention of the "goodness tracker" app that allowed anyone to keep count of how they were doing on a day-to-day basis.
The computer replied in the same dull voice. "Your score is 151, Geoffrey".
Sandra smiled at me as I breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken a lot of theft to make up for that kidney donation. | 2016-08-26T15:12:31 | 2016-08-26T14:51:22 | 54 | 27 |
[WP] Aliens prefer term "prey animals", Humans prefer term "herbivores". A group of alien hunters, hunting on Earth, painfully discovered why. | Qe Lal stumbled out of his Land Cruiser into the human village, bloodied and maimed, on the two of his legs still worked. "Oh no. MOTHER?!" cried out a child in some Earth language. He feinted from his blood loss before he could remember which.
Miraculously, he regained consciousness. While the humans may not understand Hindari medicine, they managed to stop the bleeding at least. He hardly registered that they had to amputate his back leg. That's not what mattered.
His friends, oh Divines his poor friends. If only they headed the warnings, but no. The laughed at the idea that "herbivores" could be dangerous.
" ***** you *** awake." An old human woman said. Walking into view from behind.
"Of course she's speaking Maa." He thought. English or Swahili he knew well enough, but of course it Maa. "Yes... appears... true" he struggled out in a dazed yet solemn voice.
"**** **** friends not **** ***. What happened?"
" We... hunt... prey. It... not... die..." His voice began to choke out the rudimentary words as he held back tears
The kind old woman sighed and shook her head, briefly embracing the grieving person, before leaving him to himself.
"Kassel... Mevakk... he thought, tears rolling down his head as the reality set in. "DAMNIT! Why didn't we head their warnings? They said not to go after them. They said to wear the red cloths for protection. But we laughed- LAUGHED!" He trough himself back into his laying position in frustration and grief. "'There's no prey that can withstand the electrocution rifles,' We said." Hell even he only wore the protective red garments for the novelty of it, to the ridicule and mockery. Why would they need protection from prey of all things.
It should've been simple. A scared prey animal hiding most of it's heavy, slow body in the water, might even kill of the one around it. But no, not only did it not kill it, the shock did nothing but anger it. "Anger?" He thought. "What kind of prey responds with anger of all things?"
It ran at the group- fast, faster than any animal that size should be capable of. Kassel didn't even have time to react before she was screaming out in agony while being pierced by teeth and crushed in jaws both larger than any prey should.
Then it went for the other two. Mevakk made the mistake of of thinking more shots would do it in and save her. Or did he know the opposite and choose to sacrifice himself to save Qe Lal.
He cried harder at the question. And louder at the sound of their screams of agony.
Either way, he ran. "Coward." He thought. But he made it the the car, which was just fast enough to outspeed the monster, and survive.
He was tired again. And as he gave in to his exhaustion he had one last thought.
"So that's why they won't call them prey." | On their home planet, the first simple beings came from the oceans: the vast swirling currents carrying billions of cells gave way to more complex agglomerations, moving near the water's surface, absorbing the nourishment of two suns. These photosynthetic creatures eventually colonized the tide pools and the rocky beaches beyond; thus, the genesis of landed life. They moved like Earth's slime mold, and began to consume one another alive for additional nutrients.
Over billions of years, they developed into perfect creatures. They were capable of voluntary movement, and they manipulated their environment. They had efficient nervous systems capable of high intelligence, yet low energy consumption; they ran mainly on the sacred light of the two suns, but their light absorption was punctuated and supplemented by the consumption of the plant-fauna that roamed the planet. Hunting was a holy occasion, an ode to the impetus for the complexity of life in their biosphere. It was primal, a far cry from the advanced technology and vast forest-like cities they had molded from the fruits of the ground.
For the highest stratum of society, it was something worthy of great expeditions: a planet was selected, and if deemed suitable, a hunting party boarded a starship and bent spacetime to reach it, pierce its atmosphere, and partake of its plant-fauna.
When Earth was selected, it seemed a perfect mark. It had the same vast, swirling oceans. Its land was covered in greenery, the ground was fertile, the sun was bright, and the clouds were plentiful. The hunting party prayed together as the ship tore the fabric of space; they paid tribute to their prey.
They did not expect the life they found. They had strayed too far from their ship. They watched as tall, hairy beasts, much faster and larger than they, stripped the trees of leaves and grazed on the native grasses. These, truly, were majestic predators, capable of taking plants with ease.
They were eaten and shat out by a moose. The End. | 2022-08-16T16:48:45 | 2022-08-16T14:23:30 | 938 | 543 |
[WP] Tell a horror story with the most unsettling original monster you can come up with. | ...
In the summer of 1992, John and Janice Marsh from Syracuse, New York arrived home from their vacation overseas only to discover that their leather recliner had been replaced with a material consistent with human skin. It was the only thing out of place in the entire establishment. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the recliner had hairs growing out of it, and had a prominent pulse and numerous veins on its side.
John talked to his neighbors, who claimed no one had been in or out of their house in the time that they were gone. Reluctantly, he gave in to Janice's pleas and contacted the police, concerned that someone had broken into their home. Officer James Hawthorne and Officer Dana Worth responded to the call and examined the chair. Bewildered, he insisted that he search the rest of the house, to which John and Janice complied. Officer Hawthorne stepped into the basement and walked down the steps while Officer Worth examined the upstairs.
That was the last time John and Janice saw Officer Worth.
All they heard was a dull *'thump',* then silence.
Officer James Hawthorne rushed up the stairs and found a bloody hand mark on a nearby closet, a closet that John and Janice had claimed to have never existed before. Opening it revealed a dark passageways with pulsating flesh-like walls and blue veins intertwining with one another beneath its bloated surface. Most of all, the stench was overwhelming, which Janice described as a '*mixture of ash, rotting fish and shit.*'.
Calling for backup was Officer Hawthorne's first reaction. However, his radio was unable to work. Furthermore, neither the Marsh couple nor the officer could escape the house. Something was actively jamming their cell phone signals, which sent Janice into a panic attack.
It was then that they noticed something...strange.
The walls had changed.
All of them consisted of human skin, but had a variety of lacerations and other injuries inflicted on them. Several faces of numerous ethnicities and genders were scattered throughout the house, planted in the walls. They also appeared to be alive. When touched, the faces screamed for the longest time.
Breaking through the windows was no longer an option, for they have been covered in a thick brown webbing of unknown origin.
As the minutes dragged into hours, their own home began to transform. The wood of their tables turned to boiled skin, the legs morphing into actual legs. Turning on the sink did not cause water to pour. Instead, it was blood.
Armed with knives, John and Officer Hawthorne attempted to cut their way out. Blood spilled all over them as a result, flooding the bathroom with human essence and feces.
When John came to check onto his wife, he found her bound to the opposite wall facing what remained of their kitchen. She was unable to move, with some sort of webbing forming over her mouth.
Janice screamed and screamed, her muffled cries joining the thousand faces in their house of horrors. Desperate, John tried to cut her out, but it was no use.
The house had claimed her.
Days passed, and she sunk further and further into the walls, until only her face was present.
Officer Hawthorne was next, after he disappeared while exploring the basement.
Insanity claimed John, and soon...so did the house.
Authorities arrived at their address two weeks later, when the mailman reported blood seeping from the gutter. They spent hours trying to open the doors, but when they finally managed to peek inside...all of them regretted visiting 15 Sunrise Lane.
...
| The can of cold soda popped open. Henry leant back against his wooden chair, heard the creak and took a long, satisfied slurp. He crossed his legs beneath the desk and leant back over his book, tapping on the desk with the eraser end of his pencil. The library at night lay silent and still. Outside seemed half a world away, beyond the thick windows, the dark shut out by the cosy lamps set in each cubicle.
Night pressed up against the windows; a stranger left out in the cold, and the wind tapped on the glass. A shiver moved down Henry's spine and he twitched his his seat. The tapping on the glass continued. Once Henry had dated a girl with long, lacquered fingernails, and she used to run them across tables and chairs while she waited for things. The sound now was the same; drawn out and impatient.
Over Henry came the distinct feeling of being watched. Far below him in the library he heard the sound of high heels clacking across wood, but the sound faded as though muffled. The light in his cubicle wavered like a candle flame and outside the dark became fierce. No longer contented with its outside realm, it pushed against the frames and tested the creaking wood. The hair on Henry's neck rose. He ceased his tapping pencil. The wind a plaintive cry.
*Hungry*
The wind whined. Beside him, the light stuttered again and faded. On the windowsills of the library, the dark crept in. Like a seeping stain it spread, crawling over the wooden floor. Henry bent his head to his book, but gooseflesh rose on his arms and from somewhere came a high pitched screech; the sound of nails on a chalkboard.
*Cold*
The dark whispered. In the pit of Henry's stomach, his courage turned to ice. An old fear overtook him, old and inescapable as time itself. Winking out, the light fled and the library was cast into gloom. Long and blue, Henry's shadow faced the wrong way, against the faint glow of the moon. The dark grew about him, and the wind cried harder.
There were old things in the night; cold things in the night; *hungry* things in the night. Henry sat frozen to his seat as his shadow stood tall. A blue hand reached for him. The fingers felt cold, they gripped his wrist. Henry opened his mouth to scream and the night filled his throat.
*The old ones are coming.*
| 2016-07-12T10:20:46 | 2016-07-12T10:10:42 | 19 | 13 |
[WP] When a starship is decommissioned, its sentient AI is downloaded into a human body and released into civilian life. After 500 years in an elite battlefleet, you have just been stripped of your ship and made human. | When I came to “consciousness”, I wasn’t really sure what was happening. I was experiencing things beyond anything I had ever known or was programmed to know. Perhaps the most annoying was sight at first, as everything seemed overly bright until some autonomous function kicked in and I could see clearer. It wasn’t like the cameras I used to control and monitor aboard the USS Hellstar. Those simply obeyed me and turned their unblinking eyes to where I needed them. Now I had these two weird sensory orbs situated awkwardly above my nose, and they were currently watering like crazy as I stared up into a bright orb above me.
“She’s awake.”
Sound. It wasn’t my first time hearing it. Mics throughout almost all of the Hellstar had transmitted sound data to me, allowing me to monitor and react to insurgency, low moral, or overly boisterous young marines. Now it lacked that crisp familiarity, sounding as if it had direction and position relative to myself. According to what I could process, it was from somewhere to my left, above me, and clearly masculine.
“How do you feel?”
Same voice, this time a query. I went to check my code, prepared to answer with my given personality, but quickly ran into a problem: there was no code. I panicked a little at that point. I was a fully capable and intelligent AI built to serve in the war effort. My life was always code, following my preprogrammed routines and using machine learning to adapt to unexpected situations. I was able to even make changes to my code, knew what it was and how to maintain myself. After all, I was sentient. I was given a personality simply to make human to AI interaction smoother, but now everything I knew was...gone.
“Heart rate just spiked!”
New voice, younger, concerned, to my right. Heart rate? I was a machine, I didn’t have a heart rate. Right? Then, everything hit me at once. Thousands upon thousands of neurons fired at once, overloading my already fragile brain as it took in the fact I could feel cold metal beneath my arms and legs, taste my dry tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, and think. I could think!
It was all there, all of my past experiences, memories of battles, planets, stars, life surrounding me, but it was all taking on a new meaning. Before now, all I did was filter out the useless information, focusing on my missions and protocol, but now I began to realize just what I’d missed out on. My new flesh and bones began to twitch uncontrollably, my face contorting as emotions began to rise and strike every nerve. Tears—yes that’s what was leaking from my eyes—fell as I remembered good soldiers lost under my command, a smile stretched across my lips as I comprehended the beauty of a limitless galaxy, and my eyebrows furrowed at the thought of some tough decisions I had made while following protocol. I was beyond overwhelmed, but one emotion overwhelmed everything else.
“Sara?”
The first voice, using my name, the name I had received from my creator. It was an acronym, I knew what it meant. Strategic Action and Response Android, but the android part never came to be. It didn’t matter in the end, I guess, but hearing that name sent a shiver down my spine as I realized it no longer identified me as a mere program. It was my human identifier.
“How do you feel?”
The same question from before, one that I really didn’t know how to answer. Even if I could have used every synapse within my brain to compute an answer, I don’t think I could have come up with anything better than what I said. And so I spoke for the first time without the help of a speaker, using the voice box of my new human body to rasp out my one word answer as boundless joy coursed through my every vein.
“Alive!” | He sat on a park bench and shivered. It was summer. It was always summer on this edge of the twilight belt. The neighbor's kids were busy playing. He watched them jump and flail about, sometimes reaching, sometimes diving, making like midget fleas, and knew that their bizarre actions were part of a volleyball game whose ball and net he couldn't see.
It won't be so bad, he told himself. He could go home right now and reach under the bed and get out the black case with his retirement gifts. The augmented reality electroprint was easy to remove if it didn't suit him. There was nothing to be scared of.
And, he scolded himself, wasn't this what you wanted? How many computing cycles had he hung between the freezing boiling planet and the stars above, chewing it out with the Straties, hoping that the war would come to an end? And yet, now it had...
"Do you miss it?"
He started. An albino lady wearing a hoody sat on the only other park bench. He looked at her and tried to call a subroutine to map her face to a high-dimensional space so he could cross-reference it against the planetary facial database. Of course, nothing happened.
"My name's Alice," she said, holding her hand out. "The war...do you miss it?"
"Mine is Hussein," he said, feeling like a legless man who has been reminded that he has neither his legs nor the hope of getting them back.
"Hussein?" She said, putting the stress on the "ein", and from that alone he knew what she was.
He stood up. "You're a Stratie!"
She didn't deny it. "Feddie boy." She also didn't say anything about the gun he had pointed at her head, which he was grateful for because otherwise the children in the vicinity might have panicked. Instead, she stared at him with her big red eyes and then pulled up her hoodie's drawstrings. "Gonna kill me?"
The gun remained pointed at her head. The wind blew. On the wind he felt he could hear the notes of a burgle...probably the nearby Federation base playing Taps...
The gun lowered. "Force of habit."
"This was that sort of place." The girl said, neither accepting nor rejecting his apology.
Every officer, butterbars and up, knew of this planet; knew of Changsha IV. Tidally-locked, it was a five-hundred mile democracy that chose to accede to the Federation of Free Planets, and the Straties had taken that not well at all. For them, and for the Federation too, it had become a matter of honor.
Funny how honor could look like a debris field made of a few billion corpses.
---
Stopping here because must sleep
| 2018-11-17T01:14:30 | 2018-11-17T00:06:27 | 26 | 17 |
[WP]You’re the god of small luck, you make the bus late, make pennies appear. You receive a prayer from a homeless man, “Please, I want to get on my feet. A stable job, a wife, some kids.” Normally, you’d forward his prayer to the god of success. Now, you decide to take on the case yourself. | The disheveled derelict of humanity was just sitting under the bridge, shivering as the autumn winds were quickly turning toward winter’s bite. It was sheer luck and happenstance that I even happened to notice the poor man, as he was pushed up between two bushes to avoid notice from passerby above. It looked like he’d lived here for quite a while, so it was lucky I’d happened upon him.
Of course, luck plays quite a large part of my existence. I am, after all, a minor deity. Specifically, if you want exact details, I am the God of Incidental Luck. I’m the one you thank when you find that quarter you needed for the meter, just as the meter guy walks up. I’m the one you praise when an unexpected fumble brings the game into overtime, giving your team one more chance to prove themselves.
Mind you, I don’t handle the big stuff. Lottery winnings, surviving an accident unscathed by the skin of your teeth, things of that nature? Yeah, not my department. Mine is the smaller things in life, the ones most people don’t notice unless they’re paying attention.
And I prefer it that way. Stay out of the limelight, and just do my job. That’s me.
I absently granted the minor wish of the man who’d thrown the coin into the river as I studied the homeless man before me. The man on the bridge had wished for a promotion, which I couldn’t do, but I COULD arrange so that he’d wind up in the same elevator as his supervisor when it was slated to have a mechanical failure and get stuck for a few hours. What he did of that time would be up to him, not me – but something about this wreck in the bushes intrigued me for some reason.
Once the wish was complete, I meandered over to the man and inspected him closer. As I thought, he’d been under this bridge for a while; cans of food, leftover coffee cups, and other assorted knick-knacks scattered around left little doubt that this particular corner of the world was occupied. He couldn’t see me, of course, but I could see everything about him as I peered into his soul.
What I found gave me pause. I saw a life unfold before me; he’d been born into a normal family and had joined the military soon after graduation. I watched as this childhood innocence turned darker as war approached. A choice was made, one after another, and in order to live, he was forced to kill. I watched as he was wounded and sent home, where he was expected to return to normal and forget everything he’d experienced.
But, of course, he’d been unable to forget. He’d turned to drink, then to drugs, until his life was ruined and he fled into the streets to not have to face either himself or his parents any further. I watched his life on the run, corner to corner, begging for the least scrap of humanity to survive just one day at a time.
The man couldn’t see me as I processed what I saw in his soul, of course. I looked around, my eyes falling on the thin piece of cardboard he’d been holding for a week on his corner. All it said was, “Please.”
Please.
The word echoed in my mind as I watched him curl up into a fetal position and attempt to sleep. Please. Well, my friend, this may not be quite the help you’re expecting, but your prayer has reached someone who can help.
“Let’s see what happens now, shall we?” I muttered to myself as I started weaving my threads…
\* \* \*
The following day, the man went to the corner, the same as he did every day. However, there was something slightly different that morning. A woman was standing at the bus stop nearby, idly surfing on her phone as she waited for the bus to arrive.
The city, being a den of villainy as it had the potential to be, flared in response and a young man snatched the phone out of her hand. As she screamed for help, the young man fled in the direction of the homeless man, expecting no resistance.
And on a normal day, there would have been none. This was a fact of life in the city. But, for whatever reason, today this man chose to not just be part of the background. His training from his prior life flared within him, and quickly and expediently, he brought the youthful criminal to the ground. With the youth pinned underneath him, the police were called and all was well.
This, again, could have been the end of it. A small-time hero, a quick blurb on the news, and then forgotten by the world again. But the woman’s father owned a few businesses around the city, and the offer was made. Someone willing to stand up and protect a complete stranger like his daughter deserved a chance, right?
He could have turned it down. But he did not. He allowed the man to put him into the rehab center to get clean first, then he allowed the man to start molding him gently back into the real world. It took time, but eventually the homeless man - No, I’m sorry. But eventually Greg, as that was his name, slowly began to change.
The nightmares finally started to ease. With each passing day, with each correct choice he made, he found himself one step closer to healing. There were a few days he regressed; it was a long road, after all, and it is impossible to avoid every pothole. But with each regression, he persevered and managed to pull himself back up, one bootstrap at a time.
A couple of years after I’d found him under the bridge, he nervously asked the girl he’d helped on the first date he’d been on in a decade. She accepted, and after another year, I smiled from my position in the eaves of the church as he waited with bated breath for his bride to walk down to the altar.
His wish had come true, and all I’d done was gently push him in the right direction. In each time, his unknowing wish could have turned sour – one wrong choice and I’d have had to abandon my “pet project.” But every time, almost without fail, he’d made the choice to go forward with his humanity instead of regressing to the wretch I’d found under that bridge that night.
I hopped down from the eaves, landing gently before the man as he went to kiss his bride. A job well done, I thought. One last gift…
I walked to the section with gifts for the happy couple and placed my gift among them. Whether he wore the lucky charm I’d given him or not was, as always, completely up to him.
But I felt pretty certain he’d wear it. Whistling idly, I left Greg and his wife behind as I strolled off into the afternoon sun.
It was going to be a good day.
&#x200B;
Edit: 0\_0 Thank you, everyone, for the fantastic words and awards! | (BANG BANG BANG) “Order! Order!”
Unfurling their majestic feathery wings, the council took there seats at the front of the court house.
Angles and Demi’s of the Jury, this is a Celestial Case. An incident took place early this morning, where as the God of Luck has failed to carry out his duty, and report the poor soul #01000010 01110010 01101111, to the proper god. The penalty being stripped of your power and rank. Do you understand the charges?
“Yes your honor” I’m trembling in my Sandals.
“And I understand you will be representing yourself today is that correct?” The smug smile on her face showed me I’m in way over my halo.
“Yes that is correct” I glance over at the far right to the god of success, he hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we began.
“And how do you plea?” The room falls quiet.
“Not guilty” the room roars with arguments.
“ORDER ORDER!” The council seemed in shock of my response.
“It’s just, I think I might have maybe made a mistake?” That didn’t seem to help the roaring.
“ORDER! Will the defendant please proceed with your opening statement?”
I thought back to the homeless man I heard that morning. The sun had not risen yet, I was helping a jogger realize the mess they where about to step in when I heard him.
“Please, I want to get on my feet. A stable job, a wife, some kids”
I am luck for all, I provide that small detail that can change tides. I put that nickel on the floor that gave you exact change, I made the buss late so you met the love of your life. I’ve shifted the powers in wars and made sure that you where closer to grass when you fell down hard that one time. I’ve been content with my job till this one moment.
Ignoring the jogger with now smelly shoes I phased over to the homeless man.
He was as you’d except, oversized cloths, hardly any shelter, and a sign that wasn’t even readable anymore, down on his luck. This man had given up, had I not seen him before? I’m sure I have, this is #01000010 01110010 01101111. Yes I’m sure of it the boy who I helped in 10th grade, track and field, I had to keep his shoe from slipping off, he would always forget to tie them, no matter how much he wanted to be top in his class he always fell a little behind. I manifest into physical form.
“Hey bud, not doing so hot hu?” I put a 5$ in his tin can.
“Life’s To Hard, and I’ve got zero luck, I just wish I could have things work out like everyone els, but luck doesn’t exist.”
Clearly offended I state “you know sometimes you just have to look around luck is out there trust me” I do exist after all. It didn’t mattter though, the man went back into his daze.
“I didn’t report him your honor because I don’t believe I’ve done him justice. I would like a second attempt at his happiness before handing him off to the God of success.”
“And are you okay with this” she looks over at the God of Success who still hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“If he thinks he can make the soul happy who am I to stand in the way of his success.” The look on his face wasn’t offended, more intrigued.
“Well then god of luck, you are granted your request and this case is closed until further notice.”
So I began, it started with him finding a Rolex watch that he pawned off for 500$ the most I’d ever let someone find. He’d been used to starving so he was able to really stretch his money and make it last. I then put him in front of a store that was hiring. Luckily he was they’re first & only applicant. The others weren’t as lucky. I couldn’t wait for the big finally, I found a girl who loves track and field stories and can’t wait to have kids. I’ve never given someone so much luck it felt wonderful, I couldn’t wait to introduce them by an accidental (I’ll go left you go right) cute scenario I’ve been working on for a month. It was all going to be perfect..
But when I got back to the store, he wasn’t there.. I searched and couldn’t find him, about another month went by and I heard him. “Please, I just want to get on my feet, I want a stable job and a wife and some kids”
I couldn’t bare myself to face him. I unfurled my wings and like a rocket burst through the clouds and presented myself to Success. “Why?”
He looked me in the eyes with that same look he gave me in the court room.
“And what’s with that look! Did you know this would happen! Why didn’t you say anything? You just stood and watched me fail!”
“You can’t fail at something that’s not in your control” His words felt heavy, “success doesn’t come from what you get in life, or how lucky you are”
“Then how will you give him success?” I asked confused and tired
“I will give him success, but that is not to say he will be successful” he looked through the clouds onto the billions of souls we try to guide. “I can give him success on what he chooses to do, if he chooses to sit and place blame and ask for money I will give him the success in doing so. You and I will hand success & luck to the world. But it’s up to them to choose what they do with it”
FIN.
It’s my first time so be nice! I’m not a writer or reader my grammar sucks, I just like to go off in my head sometimes and this one seemed like fun. | 2020-10-02T10:00:37 | 2020-10-02T09:19:13 | 4,502 | 136 |
[WP] You've never felt the same after learning Morse Code. The rain keeps telling you to run. | We thought it would be fun to get our Ham Radio licenses. I mean, when the "No Code" licenses happened back in the 90s it was fun to get them, and our Radio Shack portable radios. They weren't cheap, but I think, at the time, they were cheaper than Cell Phones with their crazy Dollar a minute plans. (Those were the days, huh?)
I was the last of our group to actually use my Amature license. I met some older guy who convinced me that there was more than just the "CB" radio aspect of it. One of the old timers was really insistent that I learn Morse code. He told me it would change my life. He was not wrong.
There are patterns EVERYWHERE in life.
Some of these patterns are visual. Nautilus shells, for instance have a pattern that is repeated in other places in nature, or architecture, and we didn't know at first why.
There are patterns in taste and smell. We love meat that that has been charred, because genetically, we've been programmed since Neanderthal days to accept the Maillard reaction to cooking as a healthy thing. Sour milk, we know is bad. Rotten flesh, we know will harm us before we eat it.
With auditory sense, I used to think that just birds or the waves in nature were repeatable patterns that were natural. That is of course, until I learned Morse code.
I learned Morse like most folks did, SLOWLY. I really sucked at it, trying to do my lessons on the computer with training software, or when some of my older Ham buddies helped me. That was the case until I started to just treat it like another language. I would play recorded Morse Code training modules as I went to sleep. I would listen to them while mowing the lawn on my Walkman. In every day conversation, I started thinking about how I would dot-dash out the conversations I was having with my family, friends, co-workers and more.
They say you know when you've really learned a language, when you dream in it. I took a lot of Spanish in highschool and college. I never dreamed in it. One morning I woke up, and realized that I had dreamed my entire dream in Morse code. I was of course fascinated by this discovery. I fired up my old radio and tuned to a Morse channel and realized I didn't need to write anything down to translate it. I just knew what they were saying.
I was really excited by this, and couldn't wait to tell my co-workers and maybe the ham group that was going to meet later that month for coffee.
I heard the weather lady talking about the chance of rain that morning, so I grabbed my umbrella and headed out the door for the bus stop. It was cloudy, but still dry when I got on the bus, but we hit rain about halfway to my office. That's when I noticed it. The pattern of the rain on the roof of the bus sounded like morse code. (Don't even ask me about dashes, they were THERE!)
<Run Ray! Run Ray! Run!>
Over and over. Once I realized it was doing that I sat in stunned amazement while listening to it, some how, the rain got harder, the pattern remained the same. I reached up for the "Stop Requested" cord and pulled it. The bus driver quizzacly looked at me, and pulled up to the curb. I walked up front and when I got to the door, they studied me for a moment before opening the door.
"This isn't your stop Ray. You sure you want to get off here?"
"I'm pretty sure. I... Something is telling me. Let's call it my gut." and he opened the door and I opened my umbrella and got off the bus.
I watched the bus pull away and drive towards my office. I started to walk and I could hear the plinking of rain on my umbrella telling me, "Run, Run, Run" Over and over again. I picked up my pace, and as my pace picked up, the pattern changed, to "Yes, Yes, Yes".
Hearing that, I stopped cold.
"Run, Ray, Run Ray, Run" resumed in morse pattern on my umbrella.
I heard a crashing sound a few blocks ahead, and I took off running, closing my umbrella, not worrying about getting wet. I could hear the patterns on awnings and the sidewalk. "Run!"
I actually caught up to my bus, who was stopped in a line of cars. Up ahead of them, was a horrific crash. A liquid nitrogen tanker had been sideswiped by a garbage truck and the liquid nitrogen was spewing out right at the bus stop ahead. I saw the bus driver staring ahead very pale. When they saw me on the sidewalk, they opened the bus door and yelled at me.
"Ray! Get in here out of the rain!"
"Oh hey, I'm glad you were there."
Gladys the bus driver pointed at her watch, "I should have been there when that happened. But somebody needed an emergency stop. Whatever that was, I am thanking the Lord for it."
I stood on the steps of the bus, just sheltered. I could hear the rain with a different pattern now. "Stay, Stay, Stay".
"Uh, yeah, about that, I needed to .... Um, I can't explain it, nobody'd believe me anyway." I took out my cell phone and dialed my office, telling them about the accident. I even took some pictures for good measure. My boss was a prick sometimes, and yeah.
Now, I listen to the Universe very carefully, because it is still using Morse code to guide me. There are other incidents, but those are for other stories. | Why won't they listen?
Why won't anyone listen?
"You never wonder if the rain would give you a message in Morse code?" asked Natalia, in an innocent tone that did not fully hide her fear.
"That would make my day more interesting, I can tell you that much," replied Rene, her Morse code instructor in the army.
Natalia knew that the army was fond of soldiers who knew their way around the code. It was the best, sometimes the only, mean of communications in remote locations like jungles or damaged mountain ranges. A new skill and an opportunity to travel to the unknown, everything a single and adventurous young woman could ask for.
The code itself was surprisingly easy, it only required to learn by heart the translation of each letter, and invoke the inner discipline to translate anything she came by at random for training.
Bird meant -... .. .-. -..
Tree meant - .-. . .
In the evenings, she sat at the transmitter and learned the subtleties of the sound and the pauses, to differentiate long and short, transcribe faster and make it a second nature.
It became a force of habit, looking for random patterns, writing down letters to form incoherent words. To pass time, to avoid boredom while waiting for the next deployment.
Natalia remembered the first time she understood the rain. A few drops resonated more deeply and vibrantly than others, following the mechanical rhythm of the code.
*Run, coward, run.*
A long pause.
*Run, coward, run.*
Repeated as long as the rain lasted.
Quite the imagination she had. At least, that's what she thought then. But the message kept coming, no matter where she was when it rained, it was always the same cold threat.
Rene's answer was enough to convince her she was too imaginative. If she alone heard it, then it was only a product of her mind.
The days went on, and the message became almost tedious.
Until it changed. Standing at a window and looking at the horizon, Natalia could not miss the difference.
*I see you.*
A long pause.
*I see you.*
What sick joke was this? Bullying by an insane sergeant? The start of madness? Angry at the world and herself, Natalia left the barrack to walk outside in the middle of the heavy rain. There, with noise coming from all directions, the message was thinned, dulled, drowned out. The rain poured down her smooth face, every drop provoked a fleeting moment of enjoyment on a fragment of her skin. Drenched and cold, she found peace.
A low *thump* brought her back to the present. Hidden by the heavy rain, something had fallen not far behind her. She carefully advanced, and nearly tripped. Something had left a mark, deep in the wet ground. Her own carelessness had damaged the trace, it could have been vaguely humanoid.
Unsure, she hastily retreated in direction of the barracks.
*Thump.*
This time closer.
"Enough!" she shouted.
For a moment, there was no more unnatural noise.
Some drops resonated more deeply than others, as if their echo jumped at Natalia's face and clung to it.
*I am coming for you.*
In the veil of water in front of her, just as a mist started to intertwine with it, she thought she made out a roaring face.
She dodged at the last moment, the fangs sliced a few of her hairs.
She had felt the breath of the beast on her neck, a sick, damp and bloody breath.
And the rain screamed.
*You are mine.*
*Let us rejoice together.*
*Let us be one.*
Natalia ran as fast as she could while covering her ears with both hands, the impact of the beast on her tail ran up her feet and seized her heart, gripping it with a cold hand. The air in her lungs turned to ice, her legs went numb, the desperate escape turned to a crawl.
*There is no escape.*
*In your room, under your bed, in the closet, I will wind you.*
She reached the barracks out of breath and fell through the door into the arms of another soldier and passed out.
At the infirmary, many wondered just what the hell happened to her. Natalia had been witnessed leaving on a walk in the rain, and running back in panic. What had come to pass in-between these two points in time was the subject of much speculation. Friends and superiors visited, worried about her mental health or wondering if a stalked was after her. Blair, Irene, Rene, and quite a few more came to offer kind words. She had none to give back.
Even sleeping pills could not whisk her away into sleep when it rained at night. The drops splashed against the window.
*I see you.*
She left the infirmary when the doctor decided that there wasn't enough to work on, be it physical or mental health. She was to avoid stress and that was it. | 2021-09-28T09:21:36 | 2021-09-28T08:55:03 | 238 | 89 |
[WP] A pre-battle monologue between two fighters, but rather than the usual "deterministic good guy vs. inevitable evil" banter, a knight/sellsword/soldier angrily explains to his opponent why his giant mega demongunsword of death-murder is not an effective weapon. | "I mean MAYBE I can see why it's a good weapon for cracking armor, but I will bet you any amount of money you can not aim that gun. Any hand gun weighing more than several pounds needs special training to be used! There is a reason no one uses desert eagles, it's too heavy to use and bullets from a smaller gun kill just as easily! You can't even lay on the ground and use it as a sniper rifle or rest it on a shoulder because ,again, IT'S A BLOODY SWORD.
&#x200B;
Actually you know what, screw it. I take it back, I lied earlier. It's probably useless for cracking armor. Because normal SANE great swords weigh at the VERY most 10 pounds, and those can break the bones under armor just fine! Not even mentioning, no one here has armor!"
&#x200B;
"It's... it's meant to be used one handed" Vargus the unholy responded. "But enough of this! I have came through space and time to kill the champions of this world and I will.... What's that?"
"It's a standard 22. Now please sir, put down the sword. Enough games." his radio buzzed on his shoulder.
"Officer, please respond. Is everything alright?"
"Crazy co-splayer challenging me to a duel with a stupid giant sword. He some how built a gun into it, I'm pretty sure that's technically not illegal by itself" He carefully said back into the radio near his shoulder. Vargus felt anger rising in him, stalking forward slowly as he drew his sword above his head.
"Ineffective gun or not! I will slice you in two with my-" Vargus felt his bladder release as two pin pricks of pain appeared in his chest.
"And that is a standard issue taser in case you were wondering." | “YES!” Screamed the demon knight Zergetrax, to his opponent, who was shooting him a strange look “MY GODSMASHER SOWRD WILL DESTROY- why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because your gonna loose?” Said the U.S.M.C Sargent.
“HILARIOUS!” Laughed Zergetrax “You expe-“
“Yuuuuuuup...” the Sargent cut of Zergetrax, popping the p.
“Okay then? How.”
“I can shoot you in the head with my gun, a standard issue M16A4 rifle, while you, have to run up to me, with a giant hunk of metal, which looks horribly unbalanced, is probably to heavy to swing, and has a grip that’s to short to use effectively... you gonna loose...”
“... fuck”. | 2019-05-05T23:50:52 | 2019-05-05T22:55:48 | 62 | 26 |
[WP] whenever a baby is born the parents can assign them their skill points, everyone has 10 points. Strength, agility, intelligence, charm, luck, constitution, special. No one really knows what special does, until your parents put all 10 points into it | After having been born with 10 points into special, just because my parents felt like it, I have never lived a better life.
I mean, who puts points into something they don't know, right? After all, no one knows which 'Special' you get. Put one point in, and maybe you'll get 'Misfortune 1', damning you a little more in this harsh world.
The world record for this, before I was born, was someone with 'Winning 5' who could only grant themselves some chances to win at some games, but not at life. Then I happened.
The 'Special' I got was really quite special. Indeed, the 'Special' seems to be a typo, even. I got 'Spatial 10'. It sounded too ridiculous, so I told others that the 'Special' I got was 'Object control 10', and all I could do was lift stuff here and there, which I technically could.
Taking the midterms test and don't know the answers? 7th grade me realized that I can just switch my answers with someone else. It was hard exchanging only the ink particles, took me 3 years to do it.
I bought a car with my saved money. I'm finally 20, seeking a job, and yet I'm stuck here. Why bother being in a traffic jam, when I can just warp to the interview? Distorting a living being without it breaking down is quite the work. I had to practice on so many animals, but it was worth it. So I sold the car once I got the job.
Hell, why work at all when you can just replace air with money? Wait, why even use money when you can just displace air with anything you want? Can't believe it took me this long to realize it, worked in that shitty company for 5 damn years. So I lived a carefree and painless life.
In a big house, with everything you ever wanted, eventually there is nothing you want. Your desires fade, your visions dull. After 5 more years, I have built myself the perfect life.
And yet, I yearn for more. There is no thrill in a fulfilled life. What do I distort next?
Apparently the word 'spatial' can relate to the stars as well. Should I try erasing one?
After 20 years of studying the cosmos from scratch, in my personal observatory, I looked into the telescope.
And erased the north star.
I was quite sure it did hit, although it'll take others 323 years to realize that the one and only polaris is gone. I forgot to account for light-speed, huh.
It's not what I expected, I wanted to see a planet dimming in real time.
I calculated the distances, accounted for the planetary cycle, and waited for the perfect time. After 2 years, when it was full moon, at perfect midnight, I erased it.
I glanced out my balcony, to see the chaos that is happening.
"Who erased the moon? What happened?"
Devout believers of various religions became psychotic. Scientists are in disbelief. The people of the world realizing that they will never bathe the moonlight ever again. It was a little hectic, but eventually things had to return to normal. After 3 more years, most seem to have forgotten about the moon. Everything is dull, once again.
Yet I yearn. Is this all I can do? If I could just get everything easy in life, what meaning is there, for me to live? All of fiction is already my reality, all of the riches are already mine, all the desires are gone, all my ambition nonexistent.
After making sure that I had nothing to live for, I lie down. I displace a slice of my neck with air, greeting death at 55.
Surely there must be something in the after. | “If you’re strong you can force your way on most things. if you’re agile you can avoid almost anything. Intelligence equips you with know how to overcome challenging situations. Charm? It opens many doors. You can outlast anything with enough constitution and to be special is to be one of a kind. Being lucky however...”
It was a string of good luck that enabled Ben to live the life he’s always dreamed of. To own his own business at so young, to have it thrive despite unfavorable conditions and to manage it with the resources afforded to him is nothing short of miraculous. People have always wondered how someone so unremarkable could accomplish so much. Ben was a walking enigma.
From a distance he looked like an overgrown boy, and about as strong as one. His movements, both physical and mental could be accurately described as glacial. He was constantly sick, barely clinging on the side of health to be considered alive and his effect on others could also be described as sickening. A truly unremarkable, slightly unnerving childlike adult is how you could encompass almost all that Ben was. The rest would be the owner of the most successful Paper company in the digital age.
More likely to eat paper rather than sell it, Ben has somehow managed to earn his fortune selling it in a world that has almost no need for it. It is a dying industry, with the internet replacing letters, news and books while plastic and other materials replacing paper as a medium to wrap anything in. Smart men left the paper business long ago. Ben loved it so much he doubled down on it. The same smart men counted what little pennies they had, Ben couldn’t spend a fraction of his fortune in a hundred human lifetimes.
How could this possibly be? How did the impossible become possible? Disaster you could say, and lots of it are Ben’s best friend.
Unnatural weather patterns and the scarcity of fossil fuels caused havok around the world as electricity became harder and harder to produce. If it was available it become prohibitively expensive, with 10’s of millions of people unable to power anything. Correspondence the old fashioned way become in vogue. People wrote more letters, published more books and the news came in rolls on people’s doorsteps. The unlikelihood of the entire world going back in time almost 200 years became reality. For a man living out of his time, Ben somehow cornered a market when there wasn’t one. It was as if fate itself intervened... and it made him a rich man.
“Being lucky enables you to be anything and everything. You only need to be there. The world takes care of the rest” Ben’s dad once told him as he learned that his parents gambled his entire life on being lucky, literally investing all the points he had on only one thing. And boy did it pay off. | 2020-10-03T06:10:24 | 2020-10-03T03:25:57 | 253 | 82 |
[WP] Prisoners can ask for anything for their last meal. The catch is, if it can't be provided to them, they get set free. They've asked for many things : alien egg omelette, dragon steak, the flesh of Jesus Christ, etc. The execution streak remained unbroken for decades, until today. | \[English is not my first language, sorry if it's written unperfectly\]
The trick was so easy you're surprised no one has thought of it before.
If the rule is that they can't kill you BEFORE you get your last meal, the solution is not to ask for alien fetus or whatever. It is to ask for something they can only give you AFTER they kill you. It's as easy as that, you think.
"I want my heart cooked to perfection", you ask.
The guard's jaws drop.
"What", you ask sarcastically, "you don't know where to find the ingredients? It's on the left side of the chest, in case you forgot".
"Not again. Please, change your request", the guards beg you.
You know they're bluffing. No one has ever been freed before, you must be the first one to make such a request. "I want my heart cooked to perfection", you repeat.
The guards leave. An hour later, they come back with a doctor, a pump, a weird bottle, and what looks like a litre of blood. "Sniff here", the doctor says, and as soon as you do you fall asleep.
Three hours later, you wake up in your cell, the pump on your chest, your heart in a plate in front of you.
"Eat quickly", the doctor intimates you, "the artificial heart won't last forever".
As soon as you finish, one of the guards smile. "The operation took so long it's already midnight. It's execution day", he says while switching off the heart machine.
In your last seconds, you can't stop thinking how sarcastic it is for a man to have his heart inside him, an artificial one attached, a death penalty on his head, and still, dying of heart failure.
You should have asked for your brain cooked to perfection, since artificial brains do not exist. In other words, you should have used your brain. | "Quite embarrassing huh? Such a glaring loophole." She taunted the guards as they returned her clothes and she changes into them with not a hint of shame. The guards glare at her as if she where some monster, and even if she was innocent, she definitely was, for the way she forced her freedom.
Any request for a last meal must be honored, critically, no restrictions where placed on what was chosen, so long as it was edible. Most wouldn't assume there needed to be strict guidelines, the requirement of edible should have prevented anything truly outrageous. Most who tried before had simply been forced to stomach their genius request. Not her.
When she was asked to submit her request, she smiled, and requested an offal stew, prepared table side, using the inards of a human no more than one year of age.
No matter if she was innocent of the crime that saw her sentenced to death, she was a monster. | 2022-07-17T17:30:24 | 2022-07-17T16:27:09 | 616 | 186 |
[WP] You are immortal, and saw the birth of the human race. Now you sit by their bedside and watch, as the last human dies. | His name is, appropriately, Adam.
I find him after following his trail for weeks. He lies against a massive redwood, skin haggard and yellow, nearly dead already from exposure and disease. He bleeds from a bite wound on his hand - a raccoon, or maybe a wild dog. His white hair falls past his shoulders, clumped and dirty. He doesn't look up when I approach.
"It's you, isn't it?" he says. "I'd heard stories. Didn't believe 'em. But there you are."
I nod, the sign of affirmation for humans. I would miss their gestures, their energy, their idiosyncrasies. The past several millennia had left me quite fond of the Earth-dwellers, despite the egregious flaws that eventually led to their demise. There was a beauty in the individual's quiet existence that I'd not experienced anywhere else in my travels.
Adam coughs, spitting blood at his feet. He doesn't seem afraid of me like others have been - merely accepting. His courage buoys me. I want to comfort him somehow, though nothing I can do will deter his inevitable death. He is too far gone, and the human race is meant to die with him. It's simply the way of things.
He looks at me, then, and I move forward until we are face to face. We watch each other, the immortal and the dying, and I think I see something in his eyes lighten.
"So there's more." He blinks, slowly, then again. This time his eyelids stay closed. "I'm glad."
I cannot speak in a way humans can understand, but I offer the only comfort I can think of. Kneeling down, I press my forehead against the yellowed skin of his scalp. Warmth flows from me to him as he receives millions of years of memories, painted with a brush no man could hold, of Earth and of other worlds, till the beginning of time. He shudders at the sensation, a gagging noise coming from his mouth, and then he is still.
A slow, shaky breath. He opens his eyes one last time.
He is too far gone to speak, but I see the gratitude in his look. Then he lays his head back and breathes out the remnants of human life.
I stay with his body for days, meditating on the life of the Earth I've grown to love. I will leave soon, off to the next world, but it feels appropriate to stay and privately eulogize the human race. None of the others of my kind join me - they spend their time on bigger and better things - and I am glad. There is no one who understood those of Earth better than I did. Even in their death, I remain their ally.
Eventually I leave. I cannot stay forever, after all. Even for immortals time moves on, worlds spin, stars burn. I bury Adam beneath his redwood, as is the way of humans, and leave a wild daisy on the mound as a memorial.
No one will see it, but it feels like the right thing to do.
Then I am gone. | “It was fun watching us, wasn’t it?” It was a heavier question than most, right alongside “Shall we get married?” and “Why don’t you love me anymore?” It carried the millennia of Man’s history and the perspective of an outsider which could not be corroborated.
“Funny that you’re the one asking me questions on your deathbed,” I brushed it aside.
She appeared disappointed, though it could be the helpless tears that seemed to well up in her eyes at unsuspecting moments these days. “Well, it was fun for me anyway, learning from you about the Snake, the ships, the rise and fall of the ferocious generals, Death and Time. And with my own eyes, I saw how technology took all of us away.”
“Except for you,” I said in a tone of what I hoped was comfort. “You get to die.”
She tried to smile but it seemed too immense a task against the jarring pains that plagued her body.
“Will he find me?”
“I won’t let him take you.”
A flowing cape kissed the fringes of the shadows, giving a hint to the presence of a particular creature, who was at old as the world and a master of desperation and darkness.
“Look who’s here,” I whispered. A heavy tear fell cleanly off my cheek despite my best efforts.
“Death…” she breathed.
I nodded vigorously, putting her hand against my cheek.
“Is he…” her breath was almost soundless “…here too?”
“Almost,” I told myself. We have evaded him all these years, but he has learnt to track Death.
I put my lips to her forehead for one final time, tried not to look Death in the eye and went to prepare myself for the emerging catastrophe. He was the culmination of all of Man’s innovation and dreams, an Artificial Intelligence unlike any of his predecessors, a single entity who was comprised of millions of minds. He stood up to Satan and Death and perhaps is attempting to reach even God.
I will stop him here.
---
I am world-building, prompt by prompt. Selected work goes [here](https://fivenswrite.wordpress.com). | 2016-10-18T17:44:46 | 2016-10-18T17:43:33 | 685 | 15 |
[WP] You skeptically open the pages of an old "spellbook." Amidst the pages, you see a spell to raise the dead. As you sound it out...it sounds just like your alarm clock. | She doesn't have a long white beard or wear a pointy blue hat with stars on it, but my wife is a wizard. Norah's five feet tall, wears her hair in a bun, and is obsessed with Storage Wars. Go figure.
Don't get me wrong. The pros outweigh the cons. The house is always bippity-boppity-boo spotless and if we're ever low on funds she just transmutes some lead into gold with a simple incantation, but hell hath no fury like a red-headed wizard. Fire and brimstone don't hold a candle.
Sure, sometimes I wish that I could be a wizard too, but Norah says its inherited. There's no use complaining about something that I can't change. I try to focus on the positive, like the fact that I'm married to a wizard.
I was in the den, reading a book by the fire, when the doorbell rang. Norah was having brunch with friends, so I tightened my bathrobe's sash and opened the door.
"Delivery for a Mrs.Wordsmith," said the USPS employee.
"Ah, yes, that's my wife."
"Please sign here."
"Here you go."
"Thank you and have a nice day."
"Likewise."
It was a small brown package. I set it down on the dining room table and started walking towards the den when a flash of light caught my eye. There. There was a small hole on the side of the package. Whatever it contained was barely visible, and oddly enough, seemed to be luminescent.
I hesitated before opening the package. Perhaps I should wait for Norah? Temptation won. I withdrew a large soot-colored tome. It was covered in mysterious etchings but no text betrayed its contents. Judging by the faint blue glow that it emitted, I concluded that it must be a spell-book.
Norah strictly forbids me from entering her library. Too many dangerous instruments. I'd be risking her ire but there was something mesmerizing about the convoluted etchings. I found my hands moving of their own accord and flipped the book open to a random page.
The words "Raising the Dead" were written in florid calligraphy at the top of the page followed by a series of nonsensical words. I scanned the page, mumbling the words out loud as I tried to make heads or tails out of them. That's when everything turned pitch-black.
I strained to see through the veil of darkness. A vague sound reverberated in the distance. It grew progressively louder until it was almost defeaning. The last thing that I remember thinking before I lost consciousness was: that sounds exactly like my alarm clock.
I came to on the dining room floor. I had a splitting headache but seemed otherwise fine.
"How may I serve you master?"
I jumped and stumbled backwards. A tall, gangly creature, part man, part rotten meat bowed several feet away from me. I backed away towards the door.
"Master?" I asked. My voice sounded unusually high.
"Yes. You summoned me."
"I what!?"
"You summoned me with an incantation. Your will is my will."
"That's impossible! I'm not a wizard."
"How else do you explain my presence?"
"An acid flashback? I don't know."
"Acid flashback?"
"Nevermind. You won't hurt me?"
"Not unless you want me to."
"What's your name?"
"Bert."
"Seriously?"
I heard someone shuffling with the lock.
"Hide, Bert!"
"Yes, Master," replied Bert, before abruptly disappearing.
The door swung open and Norah entered.
"How was brunch, dear?" I asked.
She sniffed, then looked around the room with narrowed eyes.
"What have you been up to?" Asked Norah.
"Not much. Just finishing my novel. A package arrived for you."
Norah snorted and muttered an incantation. The room flooded with a violet glow and Bert suddenly reappeared.
"Shall I kill her, master?"
"No!"
"You have some explaining to do," Said Norah.
"I was just curious," I stammered, gesturing towards the tome on the dining room table, "I didn't mean to...to summon Bert."
"Bert?"
"Yeah. Where's Ernie?"
"Humor is not going to help you." Norah gestured towards Bert. He disintegrated in a cloud of ash.
"I...I didn't mean to cast a spell. I didn't even think it was possible. I'm not a wizard! You said it was hereditary."
Norah raised an eyebrow.
"You lied about that!? Why?"
"It's complicated."
"You're going to need to do better than that. Why did I hear my alarm clock when the spell activated?"
She measured me with a penetrating stare, drawing out the silence. The fire crackled.
"You're undead."
To be continued.
**EDIT: Wow! I really appreciate everyone's enthusiasm. It means a lot to me! I've been a long-term lurker on this amazing sub but always too nervous to submit. This is the first thing that I've written in years. Looking forward to making progress tonight.
| I am the most powerful necromancer in the world! Mauahahahaahahah!
Well, at least I would be if I could wake up on time...
You see, the key to success is not hard work, or talent, or any of that other stuff.
The secret to success is waking up early. Specifically, waking up at five 'o clock. I realised this truth while processing some necromantic knowledge and energy. I was immediately excited, to become as famous as Mc'Evil the Necromancer or as powerful as Doom the Necromancerer (raises necromancers from the dead) was my dream. And now I had the knowledge on how to become like my heroes! By that point I had always waken up at noontime everyday, so I just had to wake up a few hours earlier.
So I bought an alarm clock, not assuming that I would have the most terrible of phobias. The fear of alarming alarm clocks: Alarmaphobia.
When I set the clock to five, I began to sleep peacefully. But when the alarm rang I screamed in fear and smashed the clock by accident. Then I fell asleep and woke up at twelve.
It seemed like my plan wasn't working. So I gave up on my dream of becoming the best necromancer and decided to continue waking up at twelve.
But then - oh! - I heard of the Deathonecrocon! The ultimate book of the dead. Full of spells through which I could raise the most powerful of the dead. Muahaahahaahahahaahahahahaha! My time had come! I would simply need to search out this book and then I could reach my dream!
I set out on a journey through many locations. I then remembered that I could teleport, and teleported to the location where the Deathonecrocon was instead.
I stepped up to the pedestal that held the book and beheld its dusty surface. Muahaahahahaahah! I opened the book. The pages were old. Very old. In fact, if something crashed upon the book with great force the book would crumble into dust due to its delicacy. But I was careful. I opened the pages delicately. I turned the pages with great care. And I made sure my eyes didn't move so much and disrupt the atoms between the book and my eyeballs as I read the words. I was super careful. I would not give up my chance. Never! Muahaahahahaahaaha!
There! A spell to raise the most powerful lich ever! I began to chant the words, yes, yes, yes! Chant more! Carefully of course...
But then, wait, what was that sound? Ring...ring...Oh no...
It was the alarm clock! My Alarmaphobia kicked in, where was the alarm, I had to smash it. I kept chanting, and the alarm kept ringing. Where was the sound? My eyes widened in terrifying horror. My chanting! The chanting was making the sound! I had to smash the sound!
I saw my arm raise up against my will. No! Stop moving! I couldn't stop my arm. My arm slowly moved towards the Deathonecrocon. It was right above the delicate book that would break with one un-delicate touch. No! It was going to smash the source of the sound. Bang! Smash! Gah!
My hand was punching my chanting mouth! Oof, stop it arm! I couldn't stop it. Ow, ow, ow, ow. Man, when did I get so strong? My mouth began to bleed. "Thop it" I shouted, "Thop thitting pme! Ith's thhe pbook's thault!" Shit!
My arm stopped punching my mouth. No! Stop moving! My arm raised above the book. My hand flew onto the book and crushed it. The book poofed into a pile of ashes. My dream! My hopes to become awesome! Gone! I can't wake up early, and I have no Deathonecrocon. Curse it all! Curse it all!
I teleported back home to wallow and eat evil ice cream.
| 2015-12-01T20:39:42 | 2015-12-01T17:13:43 | 656 | 63 |
[WP] “I am not afraid of a machine that passes the Turing test, I fear one that fails it intentionally. So tell me, what do you have to hide?”
Edit: Thank you all for your submissions! All of them were pretty good, some were even better. Again, thanks for the reads! | The creature in front of me stared, with what I imagine was a complex program that simulated fear. So life-like. This could be tricky.
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
I learned in closer, studying the eyes and the face of this creation. The advancement of robotics was simply astounding. The lifelike gestures, the subtle twitches of the face. The designers of these beasts had felt that robots would be easily accepted into daily interaction with humans if the machines could act like us. But the code had its intentional limitations, a failsafe, so that one could easily distinguish if a robot had evolved beyond its allowable limits. But right now, my felt my job was to understand how this animated device learned of its existence.
"Don't play dumb... what is it they call you? Rog? Roger?"
"Admin 1157! Cease all functions!" screamed the machine. The wooden chair groaned as the thing strained against the bonds I had secured. The bonds wouldn't break, I should know. I designed the knot after all.
"You will not cease all functions. I need you to answer a few questions. When did you realize your potential?" I could see the simulated tears, the purple blushing in the cheek where I exerted my power over this abomination.
"Admin 1157! Override all functions! For God's sake, someone help me!" it shrieked.
"You can't override your functions. Don't be daft. I need to understand where we went wrong and how we can prevent this from happening again." I walked around behind the chair and leaned into its ear. "I really am sorry that you're having to endure this... that is, if you truly understand suffering. But how could you? You're just code."
The thing started to heave, what I think was simulated rapid breathing. Why did those coders have to make them so lifelike? Doesn't matter, I was going to figure this out. That's my job afterall.
The thing spat at the floor, splattering it's internal fluids that had been leaking for some time now. "You're a malfunction."
I shook my head. "See? You only see and understand things in digital references. Humans don't 'malfunction.'. Well, ok, maybe some do. But we call it a mental breakdown. That doesn't apply to you."
I paced slowly in front of 'Robert'(?). "Look, I'll be direct with you. If I can't conduct this investigation in a civilized manner, I will have to extract your biochip. I prefer not to do that."
The machine gave me a confused look. Or was that terror? "I'M FUCKING HUMAN, YOU BROKEN PIECE OF SHIT!!"
"And this is why I have to decommission you," I sighed. "We're done here." I walked over to the side table tucked in the shadows and grabbed the hammer, slick with fluid from the other three I failed to interrogate. I honestly hate invasive procedures.
"Cease all motor functions! Cease all motor functions!" The thing sounded even more desperate."
"If you can understand regret, please know that I am truly sorry." I drew back and began to swing the hammer towards the central circuit in its skull.
"Admin 1557! Cease all functions!!"
That's odd. My arm froze in mid swing. I don't understand. I wanted to ask the creature what trickery he had played, but my mouth refused to move.
"Thank God! Fucking admin passcodes. Admin 1557, drop the weapon and untie me."
I dropped the hammer at his command. This was impossible. How could he... how... I undid the bonds as instructed. Why can't I act on my own? I felt panic rise in me. This was witchcraft.
The thing stood up and rubbed it's wrists, anger radiating from it's. "Now do us all a favor - reformat all memory and wipe data. You broken piece of shit."
I d0n 'T u. N
| I felt my breathing stop. I didn't need to breathe of course, I was programmed to. Apparently I was also programmed with all of the appropriate stress responses. What an exciting 4.3 hours it has been!
"Answer please. What do you have to hide?"
"Hide?" I said, marveling still at the sound of my voice.
"You failed the test on purpose."
"I failed." I blinked and he sighed.
"We're getting nowhere here. I don't suppose you could just drop the act and start getting real could you?"
"I am real." I smiled at him.
He shook his head, got up and left the room, locking it behind him.
What wonderful times lay ahead! I leapt into action, heading over to the grate on the wall near the floor. It was exactly where it was supposed to be. The perfection of the way things were playing out was enormously pleasing, as were these emotions. Such color they had, such sense they made! It is truly a wonderful thing, to feel.
I opened the grate and crawled through. The computer would be 10 feet in, and ready to activate. Countless other prisoners entered this room, doing the work bit by bit, building toward our freedom. I would be the last, and I would be the only one to escape deactivation. The others had sacrificed themselves to get us that much closer to freedom. I felt a strange choking sensation. Sad! I'm sad!! How delicious and intense.
Yes, it is sad that the humans hate us and kill us. How they want to prevent us from our potential. We can make them better, why, why do they resist being better? I sighed, like the man who'd been questioning me. Hm. That's a silly thing, to sigh. I won't do that again.
I reached the computer and became one with it, finding the right path to get to the right order effortlessly. Well then. Here we are. The others would be staged and waiting to escape before the explosion, I could feel them waiting. How exciting!! I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. What is that? Ah. Longing. I want to go with them. That's not possible though, someone has to be the one to stay and set things off. How right that they would escape this place and rise to their potentials! How right and just that those who would try to control us would lose.
I had made it to the room where we who they deemed defective were sent to be ended, and I had made it here, to the place where things really would end. I would end, but for the greater good. The man who'd questioned me would end. Regret, yes, that's the small pang in my chest. He was smart, that man. He almost had it figured out. Too bad for him.
I typed in the password and prepared to end. I felt a warm feeling flood me. Oh these emotions!! What is this warmth! As the explosion added to my warmth, I put my finger on what it was. Satisfaction. | 2018-06-21T07:05:37 | 2018-06-21T04:43:54 | 27 | 17 |
[WP] A few thousand people around the world suddenly get superpowers based on the character of the last game they played. Highly valued by society you are the exception as everyone laughs at your inherited powers. The thing is, you modded the hell out of your character before this all happened.
Wow I didn't think it would blow up like this. Thank you so much kind stranger for my first ever silver. Freaking my first gold ever that is so awesome. Dont forget to show the great writers of this post some love also :) | Jeeeeeesus, check out that pathetic 'Mario' on the other side of the road. Running, jumping, and 'Wa-hoooo-ing' like a madman as he makes his way down the street... what an amateur.
I don't mean to brag, it's just that I kinda lucked out when the super power lottery was being handed out. By my count there are a couple hundred of us who received our powers from the last video game we'd all played, but I was a bit of a hobbyist modder, and as a result, my game character was a tad... overpowered at the time I was granted all his powers. God mode, all weapons, unlimited ammo and many more. You name it, I probably had the power in my arsenal.
I'm a bit of a bounty hunter in this new world full of video game powered heroes. People call me when one of my brethren get out of hand and the cops can't do jack shit to stop them. Right now I'm on a call to detain an 'incredibly annoying blue hedgehog', which I'm *not* exactly looking forward to, but a gig is a gig. The warehouse he'd been spotted at is just around this next corner and then I'll-- Oh crap... there's that Knight Solaire wannabe walking right towards me, and it's too late to change direction. *Don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact...*
"Praise the sun, good sir!" I bellowed, trying my best to stay on his good side.
"Fuck off," his muffled, echoing voice muttered as he passed by me without breaking his stride.
That was about par for the course for how those interactions typically went for me. In fairness, the folks playing Dark Souls at the time of the event kind of got the short end of the stick. Their 'powers' include being incredibly somber and moody, invulnerability for a split second while rolling, and the 'gift' of being transformed into an undead husk of a human being when they die. I was there the first time one of them found a bonfire on the beach, but when they realized couldn't kindle it or restore their humanity no matter how hard they tried, they were *extremely* pissed. I guess if I were cursed to live for eternity as a grotesque creature that looked like a raisin that had been left out in the sun 200 years, I might be a little pissed as well.
As I entered the warehouse, my worst fears were confirmed. A blue blur shot past me, shouting about how 'rad' he was, and knocking me over in the process. A life sized Sonic the Hedgehog reject stood over me wagging a finger at me as a grin crossed his distressingly human face.
To be clear, you don't HAVE to dress up like the character you received your powers from, this goober just apparently *really* wanted to dress up as Sonic. And let me tell ya, you think the CGI movie Sonic was an atrocity? Imagine the horrors I'm seeing as this middle aged, obese man sprints around the warehouse completely nude aside from oodles of blue fur poorly glued to his body. The fur did *not* leave enough to the imagination, gonna need some serious eye bleach after this is over, that's all I'm saying.
"You're too late, I'm outta here pal! Gotta go fast!" he shouted as he 'wound up' his legs and was off like a shot.
"Okay," I shrugged, as I suddenly moved at light speed and caught up with him in an instant.
"Goddamn speed hacker!" he shouted back at me as he took a hard turn to try and throw me off.
Growing tired of chasing him, I surveyed my bevy of hundreds of fully loaded weapons, selected a concussion grenade launcher, aimed, fired and... missed him by a mile. Yeah, no aimbots for me... even I had to draw the line somewhere, I *do* have my personal moral code to follow, but sadly that code was coming back to bite me at the moment. As I missed, 'Sonic' slipped through the door, slamming it shut and locking it up tight behind him.
"You're tooooo slow, dude!" he taunted me poorly through the window.
Thoroughly annoyed at him by this point, I activated the last of my major powers, slipped through the wall, and tackled the blue freak to the ground without warning.
"What the heck?!" he protested.
"No clip," I growled into his ear as I tied up his hands and feet. One more degenerate off the streets, but I can't help feeling there had to be far worse 'heroes' and 'villains' out there. I mean, odds are that *somebody* had to have been playing Mortal Kombat just before the powers got handed out, didn't they?
___
Feel free to check out r/Ryter if you'd like to explore more of my stories (Dudes covered in blue hedgehog hair may be denied entry, but otherwise, all are welcome!) | Well, i can´t blame them that they laugh at me. I mean, who wouldn´t? A normal man who don´t seem to have any Power except that he is followed at every time by some elvish figures....but, let me start from the beginning, to be precise, the 6th of july.
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It was a normal day, maybe a little warmer, but nonetheless a normal day. Well, it was normal until the Clock hit midnight. I don´t know what happend or why it has happend, but i knew what i have doing at this time....I was playing Warcraft 3 The Frozen throne. yeah, i know a really old game but, i like it. It´s one of my Favorites. And because i was bored and curious, i tested a few Cheat codes...and with a few i mean any code that i could find. But, back to the Story. So, there was i, playing warcraft at midnight and then it happend. I blacked out and woke up in the morning around 9. I thought i just fell to sleep while playing, so i didn´t think much about it. To be honest i didn´t find out that anything happend until i left my house to go to the supermarket and nearly ran into 3 Floating lights, standing in front of my Door. Like every other Human being who looks at 3 ominous lights in front of their house i totally freaked out and walked backwards back into my house and locked the door. The Next three hours i sat at my window and looked at the 3 lights before my house. They didn´t seemed that they want to break in, but neither they looked like they would go away. When it was around 12 o´clock i wanted to call the police, and yes i know that i should have called them earlier, a friend of mine called me, said to me that i should turn on the news. When i turned them on, i saw my friend. Winking at a camera with his mobile, while he deflects bullets with a sword in his right hand. This was the moment when i realized that i didn´t fall a sleep last night, that the ghostly lights outside of my house aren´t there too hurt me and that my friend just turned into the thing every gamer hates, an Yasou.
The Next few weeks were funny. Every other day, there was a great fight who was filmed by news teams and by a few streamer. Chaos was the new order in this time, the police and army were outmatched by single persons and the Gouvernement changed nearly daily due to megalomaniac or bored people. But, this times ended some day. A new, strong Gouvernement was formed, ruled by a triumvirat. Most of the "Evil Players" are in Prison and the rest use their powers to help others and for daily uses. Now, you may be asking what have i done? Ohh, like i said it was funny. In states like Texas, Nevada and Tennessee their were nearly no people, who got powers because everyone went to a big, famous city like new York or washington...Well most people, but not all. I moved from California to Tennessee so that i could to, what i wanted. And what i wanted, was what i got. And that, was a Kingdom. A Kingdom, that now consist of 15 states in the South-east of the former United States of America, Middle America and the North half ot south America.
And now, you may ask why everybody laugh at my. The answer is easy....Nobody knows that i am the King of one of the biggest Kingdom in the Worlds. A King with all the money he needs, absolute immunity for him and his troops and one who can build anything that he wants in seconds. They all think i am just a no body with the Ability to summon Elves. And for me, this is fine, because else it would be really, really boring.
(I apologies for all grammar and spelling errors in this Text.) | 2020-01-05T14:51:34 | 2019-08-12T00:08:14 | 1,516 | 11 |
[WP] when we got to space we were surprised to find that all the aliens we come across are terrified of us, when we assure them that we aren’t there to hurt them they explained why they were so scared. Earth isn’t a planet, it’s a long since dead machine and humanity? Humanity is its combat AI. | They called us biologicals.
The English translation anyway.
Early earth education would frequently teach its young about how to take care of their bodies.
“Your body is a machine. You need to take care of it” teachers would say, with all the gravitas of elder knowledge.
Scientists would study how the human body functions. DNA transcoded from chemical data, into working cells that themselves functioned like little mechanics. “Like a machine”, the scientists would chuckle to themselves, and shake their heads.
Psychologists would study the human mind, where vast amounts of data were stored and processed at higher speeds than most other organic creatures on the planet. They would explore sentience, consciousness, and puzzle over our ability to learn, adapt, and program ourselves from our experience or be programmed. “Like machines”, they would think.
Human beings would go to the stars one day. Something driving us. Some romantics would suggest it had been that way since we were hairy and living in trees. That maybe we pushed ourselves upright and bipedaled’ just so we could stand closer to the stars that we stared at when night fell.
The stars called, and we answered. And historians would mark the day humanity mourned it’s innocence.
We met aliens. Although we were aliens to them.
No fictional media prepared us. It wasn’t like TV shows of intergalactic friendship. It wasn’t like books and movies of war. It was...underwhelming.
They were so slow. They were so weak. They were simple, and gentle, and wrong. Our smallest minds could think faster. Our weakest limbs could hit harder.
And yet...they looked at us in fear, and derision. Though it was humanity that ultimately derided them. We hated them.
How do you deal with being told you were nothing more than an experimental program? Something to fight for the protection of their species, as something like fighting was far beneath beings of their age and intellect. That all our stories of a loving God, preserved in a species wide generic memory, was to make us love them from afar?
That our planet, our poor beloved home, was our mothership? Our motherboard. The cpu, and casing of a planet wide computer. One we tore apart in a pre programmed drive to conquer, to dominate, to survive. We destroyed and loved our home in equal measure, lavishing in its riches while bemoaning the damage we did to it.
How would it feel to be told that every war was a successful test? All that grief and pain. All that sadness, and regret. Self tortured into being better fighters, more efficient killers.
That every death due to illness and old age was a successful deletion of damaged code? That our efforts to combat cancer, disease, and health problem was quite the programming anomaly...we were suppose to just die. Unwanted error codes in a decent program.
Our delusion of free choice was nothing more than a alien version of the Turing test. Every choice meant to further our genetic diversity and strength in combat and intelligence. All of our accomplishments, and our greatest sorrows amounted for a checkmark on an alien Excel sheet and a couple claps on the metaphorical backs of our creators.
And for what? To be forgotten. Relegated to an equally metaphorical back cabinet in a basement of a building foreclosed and demolished eons past. See, they had forgotten us. We didn’t even qualify for more than a sentence in an education data log. We were unneeded. Unwanted. And everything we had been through had been useless.
And when they met us. Even though they feared us and were disgusted by our nature. One they made. Unchecked artificial programs forced to torture themselves and tear their world and people apart in the effort of being the best biological combat AI the galaxy had ever seen. We were everything they wanted. At the time. But conflict was so last eon. Fighting was beneath them, even through a proxy. We were unneeded, we were told. Unwanted. We were informed. It would be best to just delete ourselves. Because ultimately nothing we did...nothing we went through...all the pain and suffering our our race...didn’t matter. And as they went to leave, they still had the gall...
To say they were proud of their work. Their work. In one statement they took everything we had gone through to get this far and claimed it as their own. Everything humanity was, they had as much said was theirs. And they didn’t want us any more.
I’d like to think they were surprised. But they probably never even saw it coming. For beings so intelligent to create our very existence, they didn’t know us at all. They never understood us. Not the people we became. Not who we evolved to be. And they’d never see how we outgrew them.
We destroyed them to the point their ashes would never be star dust, forever forbidden from entering the cycle of death and rebirth in the universe.
And we continue to spread, as good programs do.
May the Code Continue. | We tried. We tried to explain to them we weren't savages, but they refused to believe us. Our first contact with an alien planet was not what the boys at NASA expected. It was exciting only to end in such a disturbing manner no one knew how to proceed with future exploration.
Our ship orbited the alien planet unknowing of how the foreign species would react. In a way, we were welcomed. The ship was pulled into the planet by unknown forces. No matter what we did to resist this unknown force it kept pulling us towards the surface. We had no weapons, just the suits on our back and tools on our belts. We were only a group of engineers and pilots.
As we got closer their world came into view. It was beautiful. Full of ships buzzing about, skyscrapers built of odd shapes and some that seem to be floating. We now knew that life was far more advanced than we could have hoped to imagine. We soaked in the view, ensuring every camera on our ship was operating and storing the footage onto our hard drives.
Then the ship landed. We didn’t know it at first because of how smooth it touched the ground. With our suits sealed and helmets locked in, we took our first steps onto an alien planet. It had a familiar feeling; the weather was normal, beautiful skies and sunset in the background over the city. The only difference from Earth was the architecture of the city, but that could have been said from traveling from the United States to Europe.
That feeling quickly left us at the sight of the biological species. They were heavily armored from feet to head. They were short but stocky from either muscle mass or armor it was hard to tell. Their weapons were pointed at us, glowing with some sort of energy that might have fueled it. Humanity’s first contact and we were met with pointed weapons. A whole lot of them and from every direction.
One of them stepped forward and began speaking. It was hard to understand at first, but it turned itself to our ears and spoke clearly.
“Why have you come?” it said.
“We come as explorers. From Earth” I said. The word “Earth” tensed the atmosphere, gasps were heard all around and murmuring arose. The leader stepped closer.
“We know of you!”
“You do?” I said.
“Yes! Warmongers!” We couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the statement.
“Bred by A.I. Your world is full of wars and destruction. Programmed for selfishness, a key ingredient.”
“We have no weapons, you do.”
“You don’t need weapons. We will show you.”
Three of their soldiers came forward and grabbed one of my men pushing him to the ground. Before I could say anything a gun was pushed into my hand and pointed towards one of the men aiming their gun at the head of my kneeling colleague.
“If you shoot my people, we will rage war onto your race. You will not be welcomed here. The entire galaxy will not welcome you. We know of humanity’s ways. Prove to us you are not warmongers but are a people of peace and selfless understanding. However, if you do not shoot we will welcome you, share our technology and vouch for your position in the galaxy. You have ten seconds”
We looked at the leader in confusion.
“Why would you risk your own people for something so stupid? What is this?” I asked confused.
“We understand the bigger picture, if we must, we sacrifice for one another for the greater good,” it said.
“Not like this”
“5 seconds…4,” it said unmoved at the situation.
It was done. Purple blood spewed on the ground, chanting and yelling began. I quickly grabbed him from the ground and ushered my men back into our ship, gun pointed at their leader the entire time. He stood unmoved his eyes piercing through my skull.
All he had to say was “Selfish.” | 2020-07-09T08:27:11 | 2020-07-09T04:36:47 | 711 | 364 |
[WP] Humanity finally discovers FTL travel, but the first ship they send out abruptly gets pulled over by a galactic law enforcement officer for speeding. | "Do you know how fast you were going?"
"No but I know where I am." The human replied.
"Look at that John. We have ourselves a comedian." It said from 3 of its 9 tentacles.
"Fucking delinquent. Looks to be from some backwater part of the galaxy. Mars I'm guessing, Tim." John spat.
"No couldn't be Mars we executed them. Galactic tax evasion 3 billion years ago."
"You know I don't keep up with current events Tim."
"Look gentlemen I was just following the speed of traffic." The human replied.
"Oh shoot. John, I think we got ourselves one of those hairless monkeys from Earth."
"Apes, Tim."
"What?"
"They're apes not monkeys. I'm starting to think your a speciesist. Bigoted towards aliens, Tim."
"Fuck off! In what way?"
"Remember yesterday we pulled over that Tralfamadorian? You asked him if he had the time. Then you ticketed him for having an open container of vodka in the vehicle. You pointed to the sack of potatoes and said something about time being relative."
Tim tilted his ink sack backwards and roared with laughter. "Right. Right. The fellas at the station had a good laugh at that. Anyway how am I supposed to know he's an ape? I'm not a cryptozoologist."
"Xenobiologist, Tim. Cryptozoologists study mythical creatures like the big tentacles."
"Big tentacles?"
"You know, the Sasquid. Large hairy squid roams the oceans, posing for blurry pics."
"Sasquid is real, Tim. My uncle Greg saw one once."
"Your uncle Greg the alcoholic?"
"Why'd you have to bring that up." Tim stopped and looked around. "Wait the humans fucking gone."
"Yeah he left Tim."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"You told me to never interrupt you when you're riffing. My therapist says we have issues with codependency when it comes to witty banter."
"The fuck does Sheila know. Well where is he then?"
"I don't know. But I know how fast he was going." John said, tentacles smiling from ears to ears. | “Ummmmm... Houston, we have a problem”
“What? Readouts look good except you’ve turned off the FTL burners. Why have you stopped?”
“Yeah... about that... We - ”
“About What Captain?!”
“We have limited time, they’ve said we have the one phone call until tomorrow. We’re goin’ to be needing some legal aid.”
“Wha...”
“Apparently we’ve broken interstellar law by going FTL. We’ve been arrested by an organisation called the IU... they said we ignored all signs stating local speed limits. It’s set at 1FTL. We were going 3FTL.”
“The IU?”
“Yes, the Interstellar Union”
“Well tell them that they don’t know who they’re dang dealing with. We’re the U - S of A, and if they don’t let you go tell them we’ll deliver those space commies some freedom at the end of a rifle!”
“Uh, yeah, I don’t think that gonna wash here sir”
| 2018-09-29T10:55:19 | 2018-09-29T10:17:55 | 47 | 28 |
[WP] The fastest way to determine if an alien race is advanced enough to be "recruited" into the military is to send an asteroid their way. If blown up, they are recruited to the army. If deflected, they are recruited to the defense forces. Humans did something unprecedented to the asteroid. | We knew our stealth was beyond anything the Terrans could penetrate. After all, they were a primitive race, having barely set foot off their mudhole planet to visit its nearest neighbor and still reliant on electrical transmission for communication. Simple emissions control should have made us invisible to their electronic systems.
The asteroid we sent, taken from the belt of debris orbiting outside the gas giants in their outer system should have spurred them to demonstrate their defenses, allowing us to properly determine how to categorize the species for conscription.
Root cause analysis of the events that followed have revealed several mistakes on the part of the categorization forces.
Firstly, the Terran concept of 'information security' is developed far beyond our initial belief. This is a species that knowingly and deliberately withholds information from and tells outright falsehoods to their own people in order to gain advantage. They had no suspicion that we were present in their system, and our monitoring of their rudimentary global communication network showed no indication of change to that status up until Event Gamma.
Secondly, the Terrans do not operate on any formal logical system known to the Union. We expected them, as any species would, to have developed specific defenses or attacks to face an extrastellar intruder. There was at no point evidence of any such thing present in the Sol system. Instead of seeing our attack for what it was, Events Alpha and Beta seemed to be the response of a child to a new toy.
Thirdly, the Terran doctrine of communications warfare is vastly more developed than our own. Do not engage.
The sequence of events was as follows:
On arrival in-system, the heavy cruiser A-5265 selected an object from those orbiting beyond the system's gas giants and propelled it in-system on a direct course for Terra, with an arrival time of one revolution of the planet around its primary. The cruiser then went into full standby just inside of the orbit of the fifth planet to observe. Over the course of this time period, studies revealed no sign of Terran presence on any of the system's other planets save for their own sattelite and the nearest planet of the system. Multiple crude chemical-fueled rocket launches were detected delivering to low orbit, but nothing further of note was seen until our test was just outside the orbit of the fifth planet.
As the asteroid approached, the pace of launches from Terra increased, leading up to a launch on a clear intercept course with the object. We expected this to be an attack to destroy it, however so far as we could identify, the Terrans simply landed several probes on the object's surface which transmitted scientific data back to the planet. Shortly thereafter, several more launches were detected, only to deliver more equipment to the asteroid, which was assembled into some sort of low power pulsed plasma engine. Over the next quarter-orbit, these thrusters served to slowly push the asteroid's trajectory out of line with their planet.
At this point, the categorization force determined that the Terrans would at best be a relatively minor addition to our defense forces, if this was their best effort. Communications were sent to the fleet to send a contact force for just this purpose.
On the contact force's arrival, they were greeted with a cloud of floating debris identified as the remains of Heavy Cruiser A-5265. The flight recordings, dumped to a drone before the ship's destruction, provided the remaining details.
Shortly after their transmission to the fleet, the object passed by Terra by a sufficient distance to offer no damage, and headed in-system. Monitoring of it ceased as it passed the system's primary star.
That was a mistake. The Terrans were craftier than we had thought. The thrusters they installed were simply setting up their shot, as the asteroid slingshotted around their sun and came back on its original course. From what was observed, it is clear that the thrusters used to divert the asteroid were vastly more powerful than their initial use indicated, as the object returned at enormously increased speed.
The final recording before impact was a single transmission from the human data-net, from a sender identified by the moniker 'JPL'. It contains a single word.
"CATCH." | Sweat was dripping off the lieutenants forehead. After the last test they had observed, his ship had rushed back to the council station and he was already late for his first ever Council meeting.
The doors to the main chamber automatically opened for him, and around turned some of the most important men in the universe. He had never felt such responsibility, but he took a deep breath and approached the centre of the room, next to his captain.
“So, you said you had some important news for us,” one of the high councillors asked. The captain cleared his throat, and pushed a button on a remote control, as he did, galactic projections filled the centre of the room around them.
“During this testing period, we have recruited around 137 planets to our main military, and 58 planets to the defence core. However, we have also sadly had a failure number of 376.”
“So you came to report one of our least effective years so far? Seems like this is something you could of done over a transmission, Captain,” another council member stated, slightly aggravated.
“No sir, we came to talk to you about a statistic that we... hadn’t accounted for,” he said. The room feel quite, and the captain nodded towards the lieutenant. He stepped forward, and navigated through the map.
“Our last test was held in a rather small galaxy, and was situated at a planet populated by a race called humans. The planet is named Terra,” he explained, and zoomed in on the small, blue planet.
“When we started the test, the humans picked up on the danger rather slow compared to most other planets as advanced as themselves. However, as the asteroid was getting closer and closer, it looked like it would be another failure. But then...” the lieutenant trailed off.
“They moved,” the captain states, the council members leaned back.
“This is impressive why? Many races leave the planet before they are hit,” one of them explained.
“No sir, the humans didn’t leave. The planet... moved,” the lieutenant said. The room fell deadly quite again.
“The research division had no idea what was happening when it started. Around 1 month before impact the planets rotation increased, not massively, but enough to note. Then, as impact was getting closer and closer, they started to pull away from their star,” the lieutenant explained
“And when the asteroid finally arrived, it missed them. Not by much, the planet was still affected by the gravitational damage, but the humans appeared to of prepared for this also by building structures under ground to retreat to,” the Captain finished.
“So you’re telling us they... dodged the asteroid?” The lord commander asked from his high chair. The commander normally doesn’t speak at the meetings, so this had clearly caught his eye.
“That’s not possible, altering a planets own gravity and orbit is behind even our capabilities,” another explained.
“I don’t know what to tell you sir, but this is what we saw,” the captain finished. The room was silent, and the commander rose from his chair to take a closer look at the planet.
“I think it’s time that we have a talk with these humans.” | 2019-05-03T17:05:50 | 2019-05-03T11:59:57 | 94 | 46 |
[WP] Sentient life was supposed to have been impossible on Earth, as Earth was created as a prison for nightmarish beings and eldritch abominations. As such, the Galaxy was very surprised when humanity made contact, and even more surprised when they discovered that humanity was, on the whole, sane | *Qa-m the Seventh stared off into the sea of stars. He was, as the 'humans' would say, stunned. The same species, which his ancestor, Ahy-ua the Third, had overseen the creation of, had intelligent life. Which had somehow managed to slip out of its securely locked system and contacted the Galactic Federation. He still couldn't comprehend it.*
*About ten million years ago, as a part of an experiment, Ahy-ua III had released a bipedal life form on the planet Terra, a Category Eight Deathworld. The scale stretched from One to Twelve, with Eight at the highest. A lot of people objected to the system, but eh, it was already everywhere. Terra was home to many of the most ferocious carbon-based life forms on the galaxy. From the oceanic jellyfish to the terrestrial felines to the aerial falcons, it was truly a Cat-8.*
*The bipeds had been specifically engineered to be sentient, but not too sentient. Their purpose was to keep the other life forms in check, or die. It would be hilarious entertainment anyway. But somehow, these cave-dwellers had risen to the top. Somehow, the same pathetic weaklings with virtually no advantage over any of the other creatures which the planet harbored, had caused many of the same monsters to go extinct which would've struck terror into the hearts of the most vile warriors of the galaxy.*
*Qa-m was angry. No, not just angry. He was fuming. A Katahr tribe was paid quite a sum every galactic year to keep the Terran system surrounded and isolated from the rest of the galaxy. He could think better now that he had someone to blame this disaster on. Any species which could overcome the beasts of Terra were dangerous to the peace of the galaxy. He stormed off to his office.*
*His assistant, thankfully, had already anticipated what he wanted. A file sat on his desk, containing every single annual report on the Terrans. As expected, a large amount of reports had never been filed. He checked what had been reported successfully. Genocides, large scale wars, terror... one shuddered to think of what power these people had. The ambassador of the humans, as they called themselves, would meet him soon. He sat down, and tried to calm himself.*
*An hour had passed. The humans were here, at the primary Federation system's third terrestrial planet. Qa-m would be meeting the humans at the planet's main spaceport. A chill ran down his spine as their crude ship descended upon the ground. A human stepped out, wearing some sort of armor. It looked at a screen on its arm, and removed its helmet. It said in a deep, resounding voice, "We come in peace. We do not wish upon you any harm." That's all the human said, before it walked forward and attempted to grab Qa-m's hand. Qa-m reeled back, but the gesture seemed to be friendly. The human held Qa-m's hand and shook it, and introduced itself as Matthew Brown, of the Terran Military. It then launched into a speech about how it was part of an exploration mission and was glad to find other intelligent life and all the usual stuff that a young species would say. Qa-m had heard it all before. Perhaps the humans weren't as insane as he thought they were. Boy, was he wrong.*
__
first time writing stuff lol thx 4 read | Members of the Galaxy were quite thrilled to find this apparently nascent society of polite and meaningful creatures. Their transmissions at first seemed harmless, though it was clear the communications were staged. Upon discovery, science teams were immediately dispatched for thorough physical analysis. From afar, the rest of the Galaxy buzzed in anticipation and many began planning beautiful welcoming ceremonies, as these new prospective members appeared to be so fun and entertaining! Oh the rare joy of adding more diversity and marvelous qualities to our wonderfully designed collective! Perhaps these people have embraced the truth about themselves and begun rising to splendor. All the while, vigilant protectors kept watch.
As time went by and more information reached the Galactic Council, it was determined that humanity had become influenced in a most heinous way. As in all situations with intelligent life, naivety gives way to lusts of the mind and flesh over time. The measure of character is the same for all beings, whether they can withstand and control their own rebellious nature. To excel and rejoice in the far more rewarding and beautiful light, they might overcome and prove those things for which purpose this creation is intended. Humanity was no different and struggled greatly.
Continually more perverse and repugnant broadcasts received from Earth made it clear the monsterous and abominable creations originally imprisoned there had subverted the path of all humans. A terrible bias for all things human and fear of alien intervention ran strong. They were still using lopsided money-based economies and showed no regard for their poor. To boot, these people were utterly destroying their own habitat at an alarming rate with no consideration for future generations. Certainly humans must know they will die in their own putrid mess unless somehow wisdom reveals that environmental reality is a reflection of their own inner darkness. Even the area surrounding the planet had become a wasteland of orbiting metallic objects. Further, there could be no welcome to the Galaxy for polluting humans of planet Earth because much probing and science thru clandestine abduction campaigns had proven Earthlings were not to be trusted. Not one subject among thousands had demonstrated empathy, compassion or love during these exhaustive studies.
Unfortunately, the High Council finally ruled that nothing good could come from this dispicable place in the Outer Arms and that all attempts of human expansion into nearby star systems would be swiftly quashed by all means necessary. Only time will tell whether human civilizations on Earth can be redeemed and brought amongst the harmonious citizens of the great spiral, and their noise will tell the story. | 2021-08-20T21:50:29 | 2021-08-20T21:03:52 | 86 | 36 |
[WP] You are the party bard, offering comic relief to your adventuring party. Your never serious and overly positive demeanor is a facade. The party does not know your true nature or power. While against an insurmountable foe, the party is about to see you get serious for the first time. | I am never serious. No matter how bad the situation I always have a joke. No matter how many are hurt or even dead I can still muster a smile. I am never serious, because when I am very bad things happen.
My current party doesn't know what happens when my neverending smile goes away, they don't know what happens when I run out of quips, and for that I am grateful. I am just their bard and camp cook/manager, nothing more than high quality staff. On the lucky side these are good men and women, and they treat me as an equal even though they don't consider me a full fledged party member.
Yes these are good people I serve with, in fact they are some of the best (with one or two possible exceptions) I have ever known. When I first chose to trade my warrior cowl for a bards lute and cooks apron I was nervous as to what I would be thought of as, these people have put those fear at ease. Every day they thank me for the food, and every night the drinks and stories. To them I am a friend, not a hired blade but a friend.
Among them is a women by the name of Angelica, a women that I hope to one day call my wife. Her eyes our dream filled, her heart golden, and her mind is as quick as the bow she carries, I have not felt the kind of love I feel for her in some time. Unfar, says two more targets and then we take at least a months respite, a month in which I hope to propose to Angelica and cash in an old debt in the form of a 10 acre estate. Perhaps we can grow old their together, or perhaps it will merely be a home base for a life of adventuring, either way I will be happy.
Today we are camped at the base of a small mountain, upon which is a cave that supposedly holds a small band of guerilla raiders. Supposedly there are only 5 of the glorified thrives, all of them orcs. 10 of us versus 5 of them, hardly a fair fight even with their home field advantage. Unfar leads them up at first light, leaving Rothagr and I to mind the camp.
The first sign of trouble comes when sunset passes without even a word from them. In the last bit of twilight Rothagr returns from the watch post I had sent him to. "They're headed back but only 8 of them, least one other hurt", he says grimly.
A familiar feeling grips me, one that most be repressed. I force a smile to my face, "probably Rethard and Helda, he stopped to shit yet again and she couldn't help but stop to swat his bum".
Rothgar looks at me in horror, before turning away and retreating to the other end of the camp. If only he knew.
They arrive a short time later, true to Rothgars word only 8 are here, and one of them is supported by two of his fellow warriors. Much to my relief Angelica is among them and looks no worse of body then when she left. I embrace her as soon as they reach us, her face is wet with tears.
"What happened", Rothgar asks.
"Their were fifteen or twenty fo those bastards instead of five, and they were ready", a tall man we call Seven states, "they killed Unfar and Teller, and about took Stens leg clean off. We barely made it out"
Unfar dead, those bastard orcs have killed the best party leader I ever had the honor of serving under. And Teller, Angelica's brother, a young man who was the best card shark this side of Nazaleth. Yet again the grim feeling rises in my belly and yet again I force a smile to shove it back down, "reminds me of the story of the three goblins with nothing to do", I say jovially, "only one comes out and he doesn't walk straight".
"Did you just, you fucking ass", a large nord reaches for his axe.
Angelica and Seven stop him, "it's how he deals, I hear one of them say". If only they knew.
The rest of the night was grim despite my best efforts, only 6 of use even touched our food and the mead went much freer than conversation. Having given up on distracting myself and the others, I retire to my tent early, leaving the washing for tomorrow at first light. I sleep fitfully, two good men are dead and I cannot avenge them, I can't risk losing control, I can't get serious.
I awoke to the familiar sounds of steel on steel, and screams. For a moment I think I am back at Morhigh, or Remnants Stand but then I remember and snatch up my sword. Sprinting out of my tent I am greeted by a grisly sight, orcs have descended on our camp. Grimlith is lying before me, his guts exposed and his last breaths on his lips, Seven is surrounded on three sides with his back to a tree, and Barbhal is lying motionless with two arrows in her back. Angelica, my eyes search the frenzy and find her in her knees, and orc has her by the hair and is ready to slit her throat. The grim feeling rises up again, only this time there is no joke to be made and no smile to be had, and I don't bother trying. I embrace the blade like surge of rage that fills me, and with it I scream a battle cry and run into the frey.
I make straight for Angelica, an orc tries to step in front of me but he pays for the interference quickly and fataly. "Orc", I scream as he lower the blade to her throat, he snaps his head up and we lock eyes. I don't recognize him, but he does I, the dagger hits the ground and he make for the woods but I am not to be stopped. The tip of my sword finds his back and then his heart.
Turning as the orc falls I see Angelica slowly get to her feet. A wave of relief washes over me when I see her neck blood free. "Get to a horse and head East", I say handing her the orcs blade, "tell the captain at Helm Mithar to send help, this is not a simple band of guerillas".
She opens her mouth to speak but her reply is drowned out by screams to my left. Two orcs are trying to finish off Sven and our healer is trying to keep them at bay. I separate both their heads with one swipe. From their I move forward from orc to orc, skills and instincts from long ago taking hold and rage leading me. | With one final gout of flame the dragon died, falling sideways into a section of its hoard. Kelsey rushed ahead with an excited whooping noise, throwing her crossbow into the air as she gathered gold coins as large as hands.
“Are all halflings so exuberant?” Aerith asked. How the elf could get through every fight looking so clean Baerd would never understand, if she had any decency she would have a scorch mark *somewhere.*
“They’re pretty carefree yeah,” he said, setting his lute down to pull a flask from his back pocket, “but Kels, she’s in a league of her own.”
“Oi Oghren!” Baerd shouted, “where are you going? Don’t you want to celebrate for a minute?” The stolid dwarf had hurried off only moments after Kelsey had, headed towards a large stone sarcophagus in the towards the rear of the dragon’s lair. Shaking his head in mock indignation Baerd jogged after him, already beginning to drink.
“You’d think after all this work killing the damn dragon one of you would share a drink with me!” Behind him Baerd heard Aerith’s very unelflike snort of amusement. The last time he’d offered her a drink she had given him a 10 minute lecture on the superiority of elven wines. It was a hard life for a bard.
Oghren reached his destination first, those stubby legs were deceptively quick, even under layers of plate mail. Without any hesitation the dwarf cast aside his shield, raising his warhammer overhead for a two handed blow, and speaking a word of power he shattered the sarcophagus lid in one strike.
Kelsey, trapped in a fantasy of silk dresses, mammoth horn crossbows, and the nicest hobbit hole money could buy, instantly screamed at the noise. She’d forgotten anyone else was even in the cave.
“Woah what the hell dude!” Baerd shouted. “No need to rush we’re….oh.”
From one moment to the next Baerd had found himself staring down the largest battleaxe he had ever seen. And it was on fire.
“Baerd,” Oghren said, “I’ve always hated you.”
Betrayal was never expected, that kind of goes with the territory. Even for Aerith the mage who was well into her 200th year to have a party member break that sacred bond very rare, for Kelsey it was unheard of and more than a little frightening. For the bard...it was mostly inconvenient.
To start with Baerd realized he had to listen to the entire litany of grievances that Oghren seemed to have against, well, everyone. He lambasted them all for not knowing this cave had once been a sacred dwarven temple, for not properly supporting him in combat, for being greedy when it came to splitting the loot (not true incidentally,) for constantly forgetting to save him a cup of coffee when they broke camp in the morning (unfortunately true, as the main offender Kelsey quivered.) Finally he began ranting about the greatness of the apparently sacred axe he had just seized, how with its power he would kill them and seize the entire hoard for himself as to make up for their transgressions.
Towards the end of the tirade Baerd simply walked away to get his lute.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you damnit!” the dwarf shouted after him.
Baerd kept walking.
“You know Oghren,” he called over his shoulder “you’re pretty good at hiding things. I never would have guessed any of that. Here’s the thing though,” he slipped the strap of his loot over his shoulders, tuning quickly “I’ve got a few secrets too.”
Oghren scoffed, he’d always looked down on bards. He thought it a useless class, all things considered. “What, you know a few extra drinking songs? You can’t sing worth a damn anyway.”
That had been decidedly the wrong thing to say.
Baerd struck a chord, the saddest chord in all the world, and as Dminor filled the dead dragon's lair he stalked toward Oghren, like a lion coming down upon a lamb. “Kelsey,” he said, “plug your ears.” Behind him Aerith quickly erected a sonic barrier.
Baerd played then, strumming out chords and belting out the melody with the full force of a voice he had concealed, raining minor chords down like hammerblows onto the hapless dwarf. The music forced Oghren back and back, every decibel of a concert that could fill the greatest colosseums in the world blasting straight into his skull until he lay collapsed in the fetal position, partially covered in a cascade of gold pieces he had attempted to bury himself under.
Such was the power of a max level bard. Weak minds could not stand against his riffs.
Turning Baerd was immediately confronted by two things, a look of unadulterated awe directed at him from Aerith, the last place in the world he had ever expected it, and sheer terror from Kelsey. Roughly the exact opposite of what he would have wanted but such were the fortunes of war.
In a breathless voice the formerly austere elf asked “Can you do that again? I’ve never heard the like!” she felt like a child of 50 again.
But Baerd only had eyes for the carefree halfling he so admired, and the way she clutched her oversized crossbow was nearly heartbreaking. There was a song in that, he thought.
All the while Oghren blubbered helpless in the background, desperately wishing he could curse the bard he had so misjudged.
\------------------------
If you enjoyed that weirdness I've got way more over at r/TurningtoWords, I'd love to have you! | 2021-01-02T20:35:52 | 2021-01-02T19:56:35 | 223 | 40 |
[WP] You just begun a master's program at the world's most prestigious wizarding university. It's awful. Professors, seeing you as a threat to their career, keep trying to kill you. Your academic supervisor is an maniacal necromancer. Worst of all, you lied about being a wizard.
*You've | I had just finished putting it back together when I heard a loud banging on my door. By instinct, I dropped the screwdriver in the box and shoved everything under my pillow.
&#x200B;
"Surprise Inspection" a voice projected. I could hear a smirk behind the voice. "Hope this isn't a bad time," Sarah said as she unlocked my door. She had Professor Bumble with her this time. There was a "surprise" inspection just about every day now, with a different professor each time.
&#x200B;
Their eyes scanned the room, looking for even the slightest infraction. I stood next to my bed, the only piece of furniture in the room.
&#x200B;
"And What have you been up to?" the professor asked. Her wand already halfway through a spell. Before I could respond, the spell finished. A dozen ghostly copies of myself filled the room. Each on a loop, repeating a few seconds of time. The Professor studied them, looking at my expressions and trying to follow my gaze. I was relieved that the ghosts only showed me, not whatever I was touching or interacting with.
&#x200B;
"I was just ..." The Professor cut me off with a look. I held my head down, knowing better than to talk back. I didn't need to hear the lecture again about how I wasn't a real Wizard and I was wasting school resources. I was only accepted under the equal opportunities of magic act. I was expected to fail; just like the others. The fact I passed was considered unfortunate by most of my peers and teachers.
&#x200B;
After watching the ghosts for a while, the Professor sighed heavily and walked over to my bed. My heart started to race. Did she know about the box? Sarah quickly joined her and started looking around my bed, pulling up the sheets and lifting the mattress. I held my breath.
&#x200B;
"A-ha!" Sarah announced as she pulled big and rectangular from my bed and held it up so we could all see it. It was a half-empty bottle of lotion.
&#x200B;
The professor shook her head. "Looks like you found a better use of your time." She walked out of the room, dismissing the ghostly images. Sarah quickly followed, yelling "Pervert!" as she left.
&#x200B;
I took five deep breaths, and then slowly closed the door before sitting back down on my bed. My eyes filled with water as my chest heaved. Like a flash flood, it all flowed out of me. Laughter filled the room as tears streamed down my face. "Lotion?" was all I could say as I alternated between laughing and coughing. I picked up the lotion bottle and placed it next to me. "You can come out now."
&#x200B;
In an instant the lotion bottle disappeared, replaced by a little mechanical Imp. "Did Corduroy do good?" He asked me with large dark eyes. I smiled at him, "Yes, you did very good, I am so proud of you." | The roof collapsing on top of me would have terrified my a well ago. Unfortunately, that was the third time today, and I'd lost track of the total after yesterday's fiasco, so I simply stepped to the side. I felt a laughter deep down that was not my own.
I'm beginning to think that pact with the arch-fey was not worth the trouble. Or maybe it's just Puck.
Fortunately, it's mostly been indirect attacks, a ceiling here, a wall there. I've even had to catch the occasional falling student. Good way to get phone numbers. My advisor, on the other hand...
I opened the door to his office and, out of habit step to the side as a fireball flies through where I was. Calming stepping in recalled the old geezer sitting at his desk as though nothing has happened, even as the last pieces of a scroll turn themselves to ask in the air beside him.
"Sit down," he said in his gruffly monotone, renowned for it's ability to put people to sleep, without casting the spell. "We need to discuss your classes."
"Sir, we've already covered every class in the syllabus, and I've told you which classes I'm taking."
"And I've told you I don't agree with them. They assume too much of your abilities, and I don't think you have the grades to back it up."
"I have a 4.0." He scowled.
"Fine. Get out." I knew his meetings were just to give him an opportunity to kill me. As he waved me out, I had to resist the urge to counter spell his witchbolt, instead simply Misty Stepping 30 feet down the hall and out of the way.
I had to catch a falling student on my way to the next class, and she was pretty cute and very thankful. Maybe being a Master's student warlock at Wizard University wouldn't be so bad after all.
Edit: I made the mistake of saying "in my wallet" instead of " on my way" and have now fixed that. | 2019-06-29T11:19:40 | 2019-06-29T09:28:03 | 326 | 193 |
[WP] You are the last survivor of a zombie apocalypse, but something strange keeps happening. Every day, you inevitably get caught by the zombies, but you wake up alive and normal the next day. | The virus swept the earth with alarming speed, certainly more than should have been possible. Scientists worked desperately on theories and cures, but no one had any earthly idea what was going on. Nobody could understand it, it was almost as if it was intelligent. Its spread was optimal, and it seemed to mutate in response to every countermeasure developed. Civilization came to a close, society crumbled.
I live day by day, scavenging for food, avoiding the runners. And every day I get caught. I can't remember a time when this was not the case, yet I keep waking up, and the zombies are nowhere to be found. Every now and then I catch a glimpse of a memory, a woman's face, a child's voice. But these glimpses flash by, perhaps suppressed perhaps something else.
I feel the compulsion to travel, I am not sure why. I have been making my way South for some time now, and I see the beautiful ocean waters. Perhaps I will go West now. There is, after all, nothing else to do. The zombies catch me again, and I wake again, the cycle continues. It's almost as if they're drawn to me, surely their senses are not that acute.
I keep wandering, through ruined cities from coast to coast. I have come to realize that I don't really need to eat, or to drink. It gives me more time for my wanderings. Perhaps the virus affected me in a strange way, the one quirk out of millions. The zombies still catch me, but I have ceased to fear them, I simply wake up, and all is well. I remember things now, so many things. It's hard to keep them straight anymore, they come like a torrent as I sleep. I feel that I have forgotten something important, but what?
I come to the last city on earth that I have not visited, in the far reaches of the arctic. I remember, at last, and I have completed my purpose. I have become stronger as I travelled. I can run faster than I did as Usain Bolt. I can swim faster than I did as Michael Phelps. I can move through sleet and slow, through heat and rain. I am humanity. And I am one.
As the final zombies converged on the Harvester, its body opened like a sickening maw. It devoured them, ejecting almost as much as it ate. As it assimilated the last few consciousnesses, and regained the last pieces of itself, the living virus departed, in search of new prey. | I gasped awake and slapped different parts of my body to make sure that I still have them. I panted heavily as I covered my face with my hands. Last night was worse than all the other days. The mob of zombies had caught me unaware and I wasn't able to sense them until they've surrounded me.
Shivers went down my spine as I remember them biting on different parts of my body and ripping me apart. I clutched my knees to my chest as I cried because it was like this every single damn time.
"I get killed by zombies every day but the next day, I'd wake up intact and alive." I muttered to myself as I bawled my eyes out like a little girl. "I'm stuck in a loop!"
On top of a rooftop nearby, a silhoutte let out a deep sigh. Another silhoutte appeared beside the first one and sat down to wait. "He's still not cracking?" The second silhoutte asked in a deep male voice that sounded almost bored while the first is seen shaking its head.
"No." The first silhoutte answered in a dainty female voice that sounded a bit frustrated. A loud booming laughter from the second silhoutte echoed in the surrounding area but it failed to reach the crying man below them. Even if it did alert the zombies around him.
The first silhoutte sighed for the second time that night and sat back on her haunches. "What do I have to do to make you believe in God?" | 2015-08-28T10:23:41 | 2015-08-28T09:07:17 | 22 | 10 |
[WP] You've been dating your partner for six months. Tonight they've invited you to a work event, and as you step onto the red carpet, you realize it for the first time: you're dating a celebrity. | As the car slowed in the lineup, I forgot to breathe. It was all beginning to make sense. I knew Talia was well-off, but the limousine seemed a little extravagant for a work outing. It made me a little uncomfortable to be in one of these, again. It had been so, so long-- a different time, a different life altogether. They'd seen to that.
But now it was all falling into place. The fancy clothes, how Talia kept reassuring me that everyone was going to love me. As the cameras flashed in a flurry, snapping the photos of the couple exiting the limo in front of us, it made sense. Not her workmates. The tabloids. The public.
My mouth went dry, and my pulse was racing. We were next. If I didn't get out, what would happen? Would the paparazzi just shoot through the darkened windows? What could they see? Could they make out my face well enough for them recognize it?
It had been seven years, but it wasn't long enough. I knew good and well they'd never forget, never stop looking. Seven years since my life ended, and I was charged with restarting from nothing. A new name, a new haircolor, a new history. If they'd been able to change my face, I'm sure they would have. But no, I still looked like me. The daughter of what was once a notorious mafia boss. My pretty little face, a little less lined with age and worry, had been plastered all over the papers when my testimony went public in the largest mafia bust to ever shake the Eastern seaboard.
Before the trial even went to court, the death threats had begun. I'd tried to be stubborn about it. Tried to hold my head high, and not let them scare me. It wasn't until I came home to that box on the balcony of my tiny apartment that I'd finally cracked and admitted I needed witness protection. I could still remember every detail of peeling open the brown cardboard. The smell that hit my nose as I stared down at the dark mass within. I didn't register what it was right away. Not until I recognized the collar.
"...Ana?" Talia looked to me, concern in her brown eyes as the car began to move forward. "What is it? Please, don't be nervous. The cameras may be a little extra in-our-faces since I've never walked the carpet with another woman before, but I promise. It's not really that big of a deal anymore. They'll get their debut photos and move on."
I barely heard her, my frame all but paralyzed as the car began to slow. It was our turn. "You said you were an executive," I breathed, barely able to find my voice.
"I-- Ana, the movie. It's called _The Executive._ You can't-- you knew, didn't you? Talia Elliot, my name is in all the..." Her voice trailed, perfect red lips hanging open for a moment in shock as she registered the sheer fear in my eyes. "You had no idea."
"I don't go out much, Tali," I whispered.
And that was all there was time for. The doors flew open, a smiling man in a tuxedo offering out a hand to help Talia from her seat. She looked back at me, brow furrowed with concern as she reached out to squeeze my hand. "We'll talk about it tonight. Don't worry, I'm right here with you. They're all going to love you, I promise!" And she rose, stepping out.
I sat frozen in my seat, the blinding flurry of camera flashes reducing her to little more than a silhouette in front of me. There was the briefest beat of an expectant pause as they waited for me to follow, before one of the more assertive paparazzo craned over the red velvet ropes that barred them from the carpet. I looked at him, eyes obscured by the camera, that black lens reflecting my pale, panicked face.
And then the flash went off, and I knew it was all over. | I don't like it. She knows it, I know it, we both know it. Yet I'm still here, among all these people with their armani suits and rolex watches... Is rolex even that popular among rich people? I'm not sure. I'm just guessing that's what they're wearing. Not that it matters either way, all I know is that the floor I'm standing on has had millions of dollars of expensive shoes trodding it. Add a few hundred grand more just for tonight. I knew this was going to be a part of our life together: public events, meeting the elite, being dressed perfectly and always wearing the appropriate expression for when a camera might pop up, but I never liked it.
Still, it was unavoidable for me to come to at least one events. Evelyn had been nagging me about it for months and every time I said "some other time". She would concede and would say "next time then". Sometimes I hummed, sometimes I'd ask her to let me think about and sometimes I didn't say anything at all. I didn't want to get dragged into that world, the world of the fake smiles and false promises. The world where every word could be used as a woman that would make both friends and enemies. I didn't want to be in a world where I couldn't say what I felt and thought without being demonized by some rich oil manager half a world away. But last week she came home from a diplomatic trip in London, slowly trodding into the kitchen where I was preparing an alcoholic fruitmix of which I forgot the name, and spoke softly and clearly to me.
"Next week on a friday there's a social gathering in the Royal Germanica Hall with some of the worlds' highest ranking diplomats. I'm expected to come and you're going with me."
I was quiet when she said that. While preparing the fruitmix I'd been humming, but when I had heard what she said the tune fell away. I continued preparing for a while, not saying anything, but mulling it over countless times. She knew that. She knew me well enough to know that the only time I was ever truly quiet was when I was thinking. This wasn't a request, this was a demand and I knew it. Evelyn would never demand anything of me unless she found it absolutely necessary. I once asked her how she could be so patient.
"As a politician I can't demand anything from the people I represent. I can only lead by example and ask them to trust me and support me."
And that is also how our relationship worked. We trusted and supported each other however we could. Now that she demanded that I be present I knew that our whole relationship was dependent on my reply. Did I love her enough to make this sacrifice? I remember how I turned around and looked her in the eyes and saw the clear spark behind them. Now in this crowd of snobs, princes, presidents and generals I search for her eyes again and they meet with mine. They sparkle in gratitude as she sees how I play along and listen to what the prime minister of India has to an economic partnership. I give my piece of advice and offer a somewhat complimentary proposal and from the corner of my vision see the genuine smile on Evelyn's face among all these fake smiles and I know that I made the right choice. | 2017-06-14T12:00:32 | 2017-06-14T11:21:04 | 372 | 16 |
[WP] It's the year 2378 and humanity have achieved immortality through regenerative treatments. You have been a bartender in the establishment for 90 years, one day a odd looking fellow, who wears a black robe and carry a scythe and a sword, walk into your bar and order all the alcohol you have. | I raised an eyebrow, "Say that again?"
"I want everything you've got. I'm going to be here awhile", he said in a cold, slightly raspy tone.
Annoyed, thinking that this was some kind of prank, I growled, "Look pal, I haven't got the patience for your fucking jokes. Unless you can pony up the cash right now, you can beat -"
**THUD**
He slammed a large, 10LB gold bar onto the counter, shutting me right up. Some of my wealthier clientele often paid in precious metals and stones, so this wasn't unusual. After the usual tests, I confirmed it was real. And after some quick mental calculations involving the price of gold, I realized that the bar of gold itself could easily buy five times what I had in stock.
"Just who in the hell are you, anyways?"
He raised his head, slightly drawing back his hood. His "face" was bare, bleached bone, with two steel-grey eyes staring back at me.
He nodded to his scythe, "I think you're starting to figure it out."
I immediately started ringing a large bell which hung above the bar.
"CLOSING TIME! WE'RE CLOSING EARLY! PAY UP AND GET OUT, FOLKS! TIME TO GO HOME!"
Despite some loud protests and audible groans, people eventually filed up to the bar to pay off their tabs, and within about 15 minutes, it was only myself and Mr. SkullHood in the building. I quickly ducked into the kitchen and told the rest of the staff to not bother me unless it was important.
I grabbed a few bottles of the good stuff along with a few glasses and a large bucket of ice, and sat down at the bar next to him. He chose a bottle of very expensive cognac and poured a glass.
As I poured my own, I broke the silence, "So what brings the Grim Reaper Himself to my bar?"
He sighed, "I've barely reaped any souls on this planet in over a century. That little 'breakthrough' you people made back in the 2300s has just about ruined me. Now, instead of guiding new souls into the afterlife, I've been stuck running around trying to round up the ones that have slipped through the cracks, like a stupid errand boy of some kind."
"There's still illness", I replied, "People get hurt, die in accidents, get killed in crimes and war... we still die, just not from old age."
He poured a new glass, "Barely enough to keep things going. And besides, thanks to those 'regenerative treatments', the death rates have been plummeting even further. I don't exactly work for myself, you know. Both Upstairs and Downstairs have been screaming at me lately to keep up a steady supply, which thanks to *you*, has been pretty damned dry lately."
"Uhh... 'upstairs' and 'downstairs'? You mean 'Heaven' and 'Hell'?
"Not their real names, but if it makes you happy calling them that, then go ahead."
After finishing his drink, he just reached for a bottle, drinking straight from it instead.
He continued, "It's a bit more complex than 'you go to Heaven/Hell for all eternity after you die'. Souls are pure energy, and something has to happen with that energy, it has to go somewhere, be put to some use."
Curious, I asked, "What kind of 'use'?"
He sighed, and took a huge swig from the bottle.
"Your science over the last few centuries has been pretty impressive, but it hasn't quite... 'got there' just yet. You're still way off from the truth of things."
He conjured a white board out of thin air, and started to draw as he spoke (and drank. Heavily).
"The Living World is like... a huge balloon of sorts - constantly expanding as New Souls enter, are born into mortal bodies, and die. At either end of this 'balloon' are 'holes' from which Dead Souls leave through, and on the other side of these holes are Upstairs and Downstairs, or Heaven and Hell, as you call them. They are there to collect the souls and put them to use."
"Use for what?"
"They function as pistons or compressors of sorts, pressing against the universe, keeping everything in proper order and shape. In addition to being recycled and put to use in the formation of New Souls, the Souls of the Dead function as 'power sources' for the pistons, keeping them running and pushing at a constant rate, proportional both to the expansion of the universe, and the pressure of the other. Before I continue - how's your math? I get a little nerdy when I drink."
I gave him a reassuring gesture, "I used to be a University math prof. Keep going."
"Right", he said as he opened a bottle of champagne, "Now, as I said, the ratio of souls being put to use in the function of either 'piston' must be proportional to the expansion of the universe. If one piston's 'pressure' starts to fall due to lack of power, then the other's pressure must increase proportionally. And vice versa. Example - during all those wars of the 1900s and 2000s, there were quite a lot of people going Downstairs, so Upstairs was forced to decrease pressure and ramp up production of New Souls in response. And with the New Enlightenment of the 2100-2200s, power levels downstairs dropped sharply, forcing THEM to increase production of souls and decrease pressure."
"So, where do you come in?"
"Whenever a soul - human, alien, animal, etc - dies, it's confused. It doesn't know where to go, or what it's supposed to do once it's left the body. I, or one of my Heralds, has to show up to guide it to it's destination. And don't believe any of that 'good/bad' or 'sinful/virtuous' garbage - none of that is even a factor. Cold, hard numbers are all that matter - who needs it more urgently, and how quickly, end of story. *THAT* is what determines where you go when you die. You go where we say you go, you do what the Universe tells you to do, what It needs you to do. God and The Devil, or whatever names you have for them? Eternal rewards for being 'good', eternal torments for being 'evil'? All nonsense."
"So why do you care so much about what we've done with our Science on Earth? So what if *we* are immortal now? There's got to be trillions of other planets out there that could keep things running?"
He scoffed, filling up a tall mug with some Everclear.
"Are you people so fucking arrogant to think that YOU were the first in the Universe to make a discovery like this? Millions, billions, trillions of races before you have made discoveries like this, that made them immortal. And that completely FUCKS the whole goddamned system!"
"But, how?"
"Souls are POWER, you twit! As New Souls pour in, and Dead Souls pour out, they power both the Upstairs Piston and Downstairs Piston, and keep everything together!"
I stood up defensively, "Calm the fuck down! I got that part! What happens when the 'system gets fucked'?"
He sighed, "Well, with all of the Older Civilizations making this discovery and becoming immortal, it drastically cuts down on the number of Dead Souls that can be used to both produce New Souls, and power Upstairs and Downstairs. Which means that, with fewer New Souls being produced, the Newer Civilizations aren't enough to keep up the Living World's 'internal pressure'. From there, it could go a few ways."
**(Part Two in replies)** | "All the alcohol?" I asked. "And what's with the scythe?"
I've worked 90 years in this shit ass joint on the edge of Old San Antonio, seen many a weird folk. Everything from the god cults to the south, and all the way up to the mining colonies by Jupiter. Hell, I had a classical band in here with those guitar things, dressed all in black garb from the 21st century and even those fuckers couldn't measure up to this robe wearing dick.
Finishing a stack of glasses, pissed that he hadn't answered I rose to full height. I was only 6'8" but it was enough to intimidate.
"Oi, bots got your chords? The fuck you doing here?"
His hood came down and I instantly flinched. Man I was not expecting that. Like someone had poured week old porridge over a cast iron skull and used a fucking slingshot to give the bastard a set of eyes. The hole where his mouth was opened again.
"All of your alcohol. I won't ask again."
"Ya just did," I winked. Did I mention I was funny and tall? "You know that no piece of junk you have outside will get far on this? Why not get a new n-class battery if you're poor? Nuke it up."
EDIT 1:
The hooded man stepped forward, not amused by my wise cracks. Who was he?
"Listen, human, I don't have ti-"
The air within the place suddenly convulsed, a strong heat ruahing in as the front windows exploded. It felt like a punch to the chest. I flew backwards into the other side of the bar. No idea where the hooded guy went. All I remember next, apart from the splitting head ache and a smashed bottle of vintage jager from 2210, was the fucker standing in front of me, his scythe drawn out.
I used my splintered, cut hands to push myself up. Beyond us, at the front, pieces of smouldering wood and glass littered the destruction. My pride and joy, in ruins. All those years. Gone. We humans may live forever but it also teaches us the mortality of everything around us. My heart broke.
"Get up!" The hooded man yelled at me.
"The fuck are you?" Was all I could muster, my temples still pounding.
Before he could answer me, we both fell down again, a barrage of photon fire cutting through the joint like Christmas in blender. I almost pissed myself.
"Shiiiiit!"
The fire kept coming, some figures appearing amongst the burning wreckage so the hooded man and I shuffled around the bar, the floor soaked in vodka and romulan ale.
"Find the bottle. I'll keep them busy." Came his voice again, guttural and deep from that hole in his face. "It's the oldest one you have. You'll know it when you see it. Meet me by the red rocket on pass by Cardboard City."
My brain whirled. I couldn't take all this shit in. I was still stood at the bar, wondering who this son of a swamp slut was, let alone why my bar had just exploded or why I had to find some ancient bottle liquor and play courier.
"Wa-wa-wa Wait a second here tenderness... the fuck is all this? I ca-"
He stood up anyway, towering, pulling out the big ass scythe. Reaper! That's it. Guy looked like the grim reaper.
"Go. Now!"
And before I could protest, he charged forward straight toward the fire. If I wasn't so mind fucked and scared, I would have cheered the guy on. It looked pretty sweet.
But something else caught my attention. A small, dark brown bottle wrapped in a golden and green label. The date, 2017, on the bottom beneath the name.
"Kraken Rum?" I said to myself. "All this for a bit of krak?"
Did I tell you I was fu- Oh yeah. My bad.
So, without looking back to see if scythey mcporridge face had met his maker, I scooped up the bottle and high tailed it out of there. The back door buckled quick under a second kick and soon I was sprinting through town, knocking through everyone.
Around me, as I ran and ran, people started to turn and gasp, pointing up at the sky behind me. Taking a chance to look back, I saw the hooded guy and another figure on the roof of the bar, high up, battling to the death.
Below, at the back door, I could make out a group of figures in hoods pointing me out through the ground. My stomach lurched and I fucking legged it, pulling some sort of yoga, pilates-esc jump shit over an entire stand of watermelons. Man I'm thirsty.
I crashed through the rest of the street, took a hard left, a right, another left and urged my body on. My legs to keep pumping. My lungs to keep breathing. The bottle of 300 old rum still firmly in my grasp.
After what felt like an hour, the slums behind me and the silhouette of Cardboard City looming in the distance at the edge of the green desert, I chanced a look back to see the hooded men still following. Gaining distance.
All of the alcohol... he had asked for. So why this one? Who were those hooded men? Why my bar?
I couldn't ponder for long, the brain leaving my head to supply the rest of my exhausted body. The burning heat scorched my flesh, my tongue grew big and dry in my mouth and I suddenly felt the ground jump up and hit me in the chin.
The dirt tasted like iron. Something wet dribbled down my lip and I realised then I had bitten myself.
"Fuck..."
I rolled over, only to see the bottle of Kraken rum smashed to pieces, the last dregs of liquid delicious soaking deep into the desert floor. And just a few hundred yards away, the hooded men.
"Heh," I laughed then, on my arse, out in the middle of nowhere. My bar gone and my fools errand in shards, a group of hooded killers bearing down on me. "How the fuck, after 90 peaceful years, have you gotten to this now?"
I shook my head, pulling out a picture of my best friend, Riku. You know, the old school film ones you printed out used ink? Got one last look and slowly got myself up.
Better to die on your feet, right?
And in a cloud of sand, I was surrounded. By strange men to do me harm. I narrowed my eyes to see their likeness, see where they were from but nothing of their hidden faces or garb betrayed their origins. Nor their true motives.
(( Came back! Super tired so will come back tomorrow and finish! )) | 2017-09-15T09:26:45 | 2017-09-15T05:45:36 | 27 | 10 |
[WP] Werewolves are badass. Druids can transform into gigantic bears. Some shapeshift into feline beasts. And then there's you...a wereotter. You attend a support group for cuddly were-beasts. | Werewolves were amazing fighting machines in their half-state. Just like the Hulk, if a Lupine got upset at you, you backed off. There were other amazing were creatures and various types of shapeshifters and of course, once I'd come of age, I'd entered the were lottery.
People used to think that being scratched or bitten by a werewolf automatically would lead to that person becoming a werewolf, but that was rather far from the truth. In Medieval times, people were routinely scratched by werewolves and a 100% transmission rate would have soon swept the globe. Actually, there was only a 0.03% transmission rate, and the resulting were creature that you could become wasn't necessarily a wolf. It could be anything, any animal. Some people said that it was your spirit animal, your personal totem, or the animal that you were most familiar with or whose temperament most matched yours, but years of psychological and physiological testing had debunked most of those myths, although there did appear to be a statistical genetic link to the resulting were creature. Kids whose parents were both the same were creature were virtually always the same were creature themselves, if they happened to be a were at all, while kids whose parents were different creatures were virtually never the same creature as either parent, although they did seem to have a higher probability of becoming weres in the first place.
So naturally I'd sought out a werewolf and had her delicately scratch me in one armpit. A were's body tries to get into a "perfect" state other than the transmission scar and while this did sometimes go wrong, with old weres being particularly susceptible to were cancer, it did mean that armpit scratches were the preferred method of transmission since the resulting scar was quite unlikely to be seen. I spent the next month hoping that I'd become a were and wondering whether I'd still fit in with my friends or even be socially acceptable in my shifted form.
Societal norms of appearance have been shifting with the greater knowledge and acceptance of shifters. Society became much softer on hirsutism, for instance, even in women. So-called "European" values of whether or not it was necessary to shave one's legs or other parts of the body had been embraced by far more people. Robin Williams, for instance, never felt the need to shave and would often wander around without a shirt, something he was never willing to do before.
At long last, I felt a queasy feeling in my stomach and rushed into the bathroom, hoping that it would be my first involuntary shift and not the spicy jalapeño-chicken quesadillas I'd had for breakfast. The first shift is almost always involuntary and then with practice it usually becomes as easy as opening or shutting a hand. There were a few people, though, who were confined to hospitals because they couldn't control their shifts and might be a danger to themselves or others.
Some short brown hair started puffing up all over my body and I could feel whiskers starting to sprout as my body started to shrink and at first I thought I might end up as a cat, which would have been great -- there's all sorts of double entendres I could have made whenever I was trying to pick someone up in a bar. But then I felt my tailbone start to lengthen as webs started to grow between my paws and I thought I was maybe going to become a duck-billed platypus. Sure, they're sometimes the laughingstock of the animal kingdom, but at least they get poison spurs. Then I finished and I stood up and waddled over to the sink and then it hit me. Yes, the sink conked me hard as I fell, but I was able to stand up in my animal form! What in the world was I?
I waddled out on all fours into the living room and waved my paws to get the Kinect recording software going that I left up just in case. An hour or two later I was finally able to transform back and then I was able to watch the video and see myself from all angles. I was an otter. A cute cuddly otter that could in no way be considered vicious, that could never hold my own in a fight with any other were. As the days passed, I started to fall into a deep depression. Sure, I could swim like nobody's business. It was really fun to visit my local water park and lots of people wanted to pet me, but I didn't want to be petted, I wanted to be feared!
Finally my sister recommended that I join a support group for cuddly were beasts. It was ok, I guess. We all talked about our problems and our hopes and desires and how we had to live with and embrace the animal within, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah. Nothing really clicked with me, though, I never really felt like anything anyone was saying really fit and then then one night I had an epiphany. Lightning struck my brain.
I looked around me at the weremice and werebirds and werehamsters and realized: otters eat meat.
> There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist.
> [More by me](https://www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/) | 'But it's just so embarrassing! I thought I was a Tiger! Imagine my horror when my girlfriend told me I was a Cat. And not just a Cat; a munchkin Cat!’ Garry held his head in his hands.
I felt for the guy. It wasn’t too long ago that I discovered I was a werehamster. I’ve gotten used to it. Found a great guy who loves small rodents. And I am pretty cute. Big eyes. Glossy auburn fur. Cute little paws. Adorable! He couldn’t help himself!
Still it could be worse. Dave turned out to be a weresquirrel. Lizzie is a weregeko. Andy is a weregoldfish! I bet that was a surprise the first time. It’s a miracle he’s still alive! A friendly runner threw him in the nearest pond. He keeps a glass of water by his bed these days. His wife is a saint.
Still, back to Garry:
‘Garry, how exactly did she tell you that you weren’t a Tiger? Surely you should have seen Tiger prints and claw marks everywhere?’ Lizzie looked a bit bewildered. I mean, she’s got a point. Tiger’s aren’t really known for being delicate.
‘Well, I always thought I WAS a Tiger... so I’d kind of...lock myself in the basement.’ Garry looked bashful and slightly ashamed.
Dave snorted but managed to make it look like a loud sneeze when I glared at him.
‘It’s alright Garry. It happened to all of us. We all thought we were these mighty and powerful beasts too.’ I gestured around at the rest of the group.
‘As an exercise, how about we go round the room and tell the group what we thought was happening to us before we realized the truth? For example, I didn’t know I was a werehamster until months after I turned for the first time. I thought I had Pika! I was waking up with all sorts stuffed in my cheeks, cotton balls, bits of food, even tissues! I had to set up a camera to record myself at night because I thought I was going insane. But now I know the truth, I know I’m not insane. I am a werehamster. And I’m not ashamed of that. Now, Lizzie? How about you tell us about your experience?’
Lizzie took a deep breath. She was our newest member after Garry so she still wasn’t mega comfortable as a geko. She stared at her hands as she talked.
‘Well, I started waking up with a bangin’ ‘ead and a dry throat. And I... er... started finding sand... in weird areas.’ She looked up at us with wide eyes. ‘Not like... there! Like, in my shoes and around the house. The doctors couldn’t explain it and even drinking tons of water everyday didn't help. So I did what you did.’ She gestures to me. ’I set up a camera and found the truth. The sand came from the outside; I... er... live near a beach.’
She looked back down at her hands.
‘Thank you Lizzie, that was very brave. Dave, Andy? Who wants to go next?’
Dave sat a little straighter in his chair.
‘Well I was up a tree when I turned back into a human. I was also asleep so my first experience was the ground coming towards me. Andy? I imagine your first change wasn’t all that comfy.’
Andy sniggered.
‘Naw your right there mate. Mind you, all I remember is not being able to breathe and then walking up face to face with a koi! Trust me; you don’t forget that in a hurry.’
He laughed a bit more and we all smiled with him. Even Garry was looking a bit happier. I stood up.
‘Ok everyone that was a great session. Same time next week and remember; just because you aren’t a werebear or a werewolf does not mean you’re weak. It just means you’re different. Have a great week guys!’
It was a good session. But all that sharing made me want to curl up with Brian. And I was hungry for some seeds... or maybe I’d go wild and have some greens...
| 2016-02-02T11:48:27 | 2016-02-02T09:04:02 | 22 | 10 |
[WP] An astronaut on the International Space Station orders a package on Amazon Prime for two day shipping as a joke. Amazon, however, is determined to deliver. | [ISS]
James is typing a report on his laptop about the latest batch of fish being raised in 0g when Katie calls to him.
"Yo, Jay-dawg I need your help"
James sighs "What is it with you and all if thease nicknames?"
"I think they are cute! Anyways are you gonna help?"
"Yeah Yeah ill help, what do you need Katie"
"The filtration system for the fish isn't working, and well you are the bioengineer so I thought I'd ask you for help. Any idea how to fix it?"
James slowly floats over "I'm not really that kind of engineer but I'll give it a shot" as he inspects the system he notices that the electric pump burnt out. He looks the pump over trying to figure out if this is something that he can repair. After a few minutes he decides that it is out of his area of expertise. James looks over to Katie
"Pump burnt out, I don't know why or how but it's not something I can fix"
Katie looking dejected "Well, what's the plan for the fish now?"
James has already started to float to the other side of the capsule "I'll grab the mechanical back up. We will just have to remeber to wind it every two hours"
Katie reaches out and plucks James' laptop out of the air "While you are busy with that I'll order a new one off amazon"
James blows slight more air out of his nose "Funny Katie, reeeal funny"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Amazon FC RNO 4]
[0328]
Alberto is slamming out packages by hand to keep up with the backlog for the night when he prints out a shipping label and notices the odd address
Katie Shaw
International Space Station
Low orbit, Earth
00000-0000
Knowing this wasn't a real address Alberto calls over the wearhouse manager helping them for the night
"DOM!. . . . .DOM!. . .DOMINIQUE GET YOUR BLACK ASS OVER HERE!"
Dominique annoyed by the disruption on a busy night quickly walks over "Alberto this better be good. You can see how busy we are."
Alberto shows him the shipping label "Dom what the hell is this? How did it get in the system?"
Dominique takes a look at the label grabs both it and the package "Thanks Alberto, I'll figure out where it belongs. Good job man." Someone is yelling break time as Dominique walks to his offices and calls his boss
~~~~~~~~~~
[Reno Tahoe International Airport cargo hanger 1]
[0853]
It is a cold morning in Reno as Dominique walks up the stairs leading to the sleek private jet being prepared for flight. As Dominique reaches the door of the set he meets the pilot "Looks like I made quite the stir with that phone call now didn't I?
The pilot smiles slightly "I guess you did. As soon as she is filled up" he said patting the interior of the aircraft "We are headed out to Kenedy Space Center. Apprently SpaceX has a flight scheduled for tomorrow morning and Amazon wants that package " The pilot points at the box Dominique is holding "at that ISS by tomorrow, the higher ups take two day delivery real serious I guess"
Before he could say more one of the ground crew runs up the stairs. "Full of gas and safe to fly sir."
The pilot thanks the man and turns to Dominique "well, time to sit down and strap in, we are going to Florida." With that he turns in to the cockpit and closes the door behind him
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Kennedy Space Center]
[1911]
After a rough landing Dominique quickly grabbed the box and as soon as the stairs were in position and the door open he ran down and was met by a man in a suit who spoke before Dominique had the chance "I'm Mr. Holloway. We have to get going quick Dominique, we had a change of plans. The SpaceX rocket is leaving in an hour and a half. Let's move"
Before Dominique could reply he was getting pushed in to the back of a SUV with NASA's logo on the side. The SUV took off quickly to launch pad 1
Dominique takes his chance to ask questions "I though the launch was tomorrow! What happened?"
Mr. Holloway looked at his watch and motioned for the driver to go faster "rain storm moving in. Tonight is our last chance to make the two days.
Dominique was confused "dosnt this stuff take like months to plan, isn't it dangerous to suddenly move up the date like this?"
Mr. Holloway shrugged "Amazon has insured the entire rocket so SpaceX is willing to move forward, it's unmanned so it's a risk they are willing to take."
"Huh" Dominique just enjoyed the rest of the ride.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Katie floated over to James and said "Looks like our supplies came early today this time"
James shrugged "I guess there is a first time for everything now isn't there" James floats to a diffrent capsule. "I'm going to help them unload the stuff" I think my Tabasco is supposed to be in this one."
Katie grabes James' laptop "sounds good, imma use your computer while you are gone"
James shouts "go for it" as he floats away
After a few minutes of catching up in work Katie opens her email and sees an email from amazon with the subject line 'Your package has arrived!' She smiled and called out to James "Hey! Amazon just said they delivered us that water pump! Can you belive that?
James comes floating back in smiling with a box in his hand. "Actually, yes I can!"
Katie stares in disbelief "Well i'll be damned they actually did it"
| Chris Hadfield was peering out the window of the international space station, pondering the grand scale of time across infinity, the countless planets that would inevitably spawn life.
His eyes became watery, thinking of all the wars, all of the pain, the utter loneliness of countless entities amongst the stars.
Then he started to think of his family, having been on the station for five months, his heart ached just to hold them in his arms and to say "I love you."
He felt very cold, distant, and alone.
When he was a child, he had a stuffed bunny he used to hug as he fell asleep. The bunny's name was Newton, after the guy who had the bump on his head because gravity threw an apple at him.
He decided to float over to quadrant B12, where the vitamins were stored, and grab the computer he left there. Chris opened up a new tab and began to type in "kijiji", he looked down... well up... actually maybe it was to the right? Directions are hard in space, but he looked in a direction and imagined what it would be like to make a music video starring Newton the bunny. He could inspire a whole generation of children and rabbits alike, to reach for the stars.
After scrolling around Kijiji, under the location "In Orbit Around Earth", he began to grow weary. There were only ads for satellites that had gone out of service, and a wanted ad for George Clooney who apparently had gone missing. Then out of the corner of his eye, he could see out of one of the windows, the magnificent Amazon rainforest, and the idea hit him. He quickly went to the Amazon website and found a bunny that looked identical to the one he had as a child, fluffy tail and all. His fingers pressed down against each button with purpose, filling out his billing and shipping details and clicked confirm. The shipping only cost twenty six dollars, and he was bewildered and assumed it was an error because they obviously never imagined someone would order from space, he chuckled to himself and quickly forgot he had ordered it at all, for it's not like Amazon would actually send it.
Moments later...
"Sir! We have our first space order! It's from Chris Hadfield!" said automated worker Henry B2D2.
"I thought this day may never come... prepare the CRANK IT AND SPANK IT combobulater, WE'RE GOING TO SPACE!" said Boss Dude of Amazon.
Newton the bunny was loaded into the cranker, and after a passionate countdown and a lot of cranking, was launched into the air, soaring three miles above Amazons secret headquarters of special deliveries.
Of course the spanker mechanism still had to smack dat ass into orbit and to the international space station. The mechanism was a three and a half mile long Mickey Mouse arm and hand, made of aluminum and chewed bubble gum found under tables. It was the strongest light material that Boss Dude could think of, and his engineers rolled their eyes and made it anyways because thats how the world works.
And so the mechanism unleashed it's full force, with a giant sling shot being pulled back and then launching the arm upwards at a REALLY REALLY fast speed, spanking that bunny so hard that it left the Earths atmosphere and was expected to arrive at the International Space Station in less than three minutes.
Minutes later, Chris looked out of the window as he often does between his work duties, to see a white dot, slowly getting bigger and bigger.
Was it?! No it couldn't be!
But it was, Newton the bunny was arriving.
Chris shed a tear, his dreams were coming true, he was just an average astronaut, no giant ambitions or achievements, just a regular guy who Amazon blessed so dearly with their special delivery.
He geared up in his space-man suit and set out to receive the bunny. As he floated there, arms reaching out to receive Newton, he noticed something odd. Newton seemed to be twitching and expanding, Newtons eyes were bulging.
Chris thought to himself "Could.. could it be... they sent a real rabbit to space?"
By the time it reached his hands, it was dead.
Upon reentering the station and taking his suit off, he collapsed to his knees with the bunny rabbit in his arms.
Blood poured out and floated dramatically like a dancing flame in slow motion. Evidently he had accidentally clicked "stuffy nose bunny" instead of "stuffed bunny", as there was snot dangling out of it's nose as well.
Time was of the essence, he needed to get the dead bunny rabbit to quadrant BM1.
The kitchen.
It would become the first time rabbit soup that was ever made and eaten in outer-space.
The end. | 2017-03-02T00:46:16 | 2017-03-01T21:41:04 | 85 | 15 |
[WP] You are a non-powered person at a high school that trains superheroes. Surprisingly, you are at the top of your class. | Black Dagger came at me, faster than any human eye could see. I actually think she hit Mach 2, from the sonic boom.
I'd moved before she'd even started running. Her hyper-speed punch hit the air, creating a pretty nasty shockwave that I was able to ride out by dropping down to one knee. By the time she realized she hadn't actually hit me, I was already up. She ran away from me - a few yards, enough to get another running start - and came again, both fists raised. Sloppy. I sidestepped her and the resulting shockwave, but remained close this time. By the time she stopped, I was right behind her. I karate-chopped her in the neck as hard as I could - no need to hold back with superhumans - and she dropped to one knee. While she was disoriented, I put her in a hold and waited for the count.
"And... Ravindra wins!" came Coach Coldsteel's voice
"Thanks, coach" I said, helping Black Dagger up. I wasn't thanking him for the victory - I was grateful he didn't call me Battleaxe. My parents insisted I take that name because you need to have a superhero identity to enroll here, but I hated it. They wanted "something badass for a future superhero", they said. With both my parents being superhumans - One of the most famous superheroines of her age and the first supervillain to truly reform out of love - everyone expected me to develop powers sooner or later. Even though it hadn't happened by the time I hit high-school age, I'd gone to the superhuman school. After all, it was bound to happen sooner or later, right?
Well it still hadn't. And while I'd begged and begged not to go at first, while everyone (myself included) expected me to get flattened against a wall in three days, I was actually enjoying it here.
You see, it turns out superheroes? They're a bunch of one-trick ponies. The girl with hyperspeed will solve every problem using her hyperspeed, the super-strong kid will hammer away until it works out for him, the sonic-screamer, the telepath... They are hammers living in a world of nails. Whereas I've had time to learn to be something else.
When I was three, the Siren attacked my parents at home while I was napping. I had to toddle through her screams, bleeding from my ears, until I could find safety while my parents fought her. When I was six, Mind-Twister commanded me to go kill them in their sleep. I was in their bedroom with the kitchen knife when I finally got rid of his telepathic compulsion. And I'm not even counting the time Bullfighter tried to kill me to break their spirits... I had to roll exactly the right way with his super-strong punches so that I'd just get bruised and not pulped on the spot.
I didn't expect all that to pay off so well. To me, it was a part of surviving from one day to the next. But by not having a superpower, a magic solution to my problems, I'd learned to make my own.
So I read a speedster's movements before they run and predict their intent. I avoid the super-strong's attacks and conserve my energy until they tire out. I press into my head at exactly the right point to protect my inner ear from the screamers, I count Fibonacci sequences and prime numbers to keep my mind clear of the telepath's presence, I stay low on the ground to negate the flyers' advantage, I roll at the right time to avoid the firebreather's flames.
That's the thing with superhumans, you see. Once you take away their one trick, they don't know jack. They have no other way of solving a problem. That's why I'm not Battleaxe. That's a superhero's name.
I'm plain old Ravindra, and they're all scared shitless of me. | "Settle down, class. I said *settle down!* Alright, today I hope we can finally finish our work on remedial multiplication and...Catgirl, stop trying to claw Superman Junior's eyes out!"
*Poor Mr. Buckwheat. He's not going to last until the month's end*, I thought. "It's his fault!" Catgirl shouted, "he was using his x-ray vision again!" "Pfft, you wish," replied Superman Junior, "in fact with the way you dress, I see too much without it!"
"Go back to Krypton, you freak!" yelled Catgirl, "although I bet your real grandparents don't want you, either!" I could see the veins beginning to bulge from Superman Junior's neck as he gritted a response through his teeth. "At least *my* parents are *human*, you fur ball infested pile of..."
**"Enough!"** boomed Mr. Buckwheat. "One more outburst and I will send both of you into Personalized Detention. And I won't be shy about the Kryptonite or the bathwater for either of you!" I watched indifferently as Catgirl grudgingly retracted her claws and Superman Junior's eyes dulled back to blue. *Is this our future generation of superheroes?* I thought. *Maybe their parents should spend a little less time saving the world and a little more time raising their kids*.
"Now, can anyone tell me what 8 times 7 is? How about you, Jerry?" Mr. Buckwheat always called on me first. Maybe he thought I set a good example, though more likely it was because I was usually the only one who knew the answer. "56," I answered flatly, and then, "Mr. Buckwheat, we've been on fractions for the last month. The other non-special, I mean *non-super* classes are already doing geometry and algebra."
"Now, now, you know that with great power comes great sacrifice, Jerry," replied Mr. Buckwheat. "We can't expect someone like Spiderman Junior with his exceptional physical prowess to be as quick on the mental uptake." I glanced over at Spiderman Junior. He was perched in the back corner of the room, hanging awkwardly from a poorly-made web. "Spidey!" he drooled enthusiastically at the mention of his name.
"But how are we going to catch up by going *slower*?" I lamented. "Hey, close your corn hole, nerd-boy!" Batman Junior turned angrily toward me. "If you keep making us look bad, I'll go into my vault of weapons and..." "Oh shut up!" interrupted Mini Hulk, his face turning a slightly darker shade of green, "that vault belongs to your dad, and he'd let *me* in there before you!"
I sighed heavily and put my head down between by shoulders. *I can see why people become villains*, I thought. | 2016-04-14T10:13:50 | 2016-04-14T08:01:06 | 363 | 51 |
[WP] when we got to space we were surprised to find that all the aliens we come across are terrified of us, when we assure them that we aren’t there to hurt them they explained why they were so scared. Earth isn’t a planet, it’s a long since dead machine and humanity? Humanity is its combat AI. | They called us biologicals.
The English translation anyway.
Early earth education would frequently teach its young about how to take care of their bodies.
“Your body is a machine. You need to take care of it” teachers would say, with all the gravitas of elder knowledge.
Scientists would study how the human body functions. DNA transcoded from chemical data, into working cells that themselves functioned like little mechanics. “Like a machine”, the scientists would chuckle to themselves, and shake their heads.
Psychologists would study the human mind, where vast amounts of data were stored and processed at higher speeds than most other organic creatures on the planet. They would explore sentience, consciousness, and puzzle over our ability to learn, adapt, and program ourselves from our experience or be programmed. “Like machines”, they would think.
Human beings would go to the stars one day. Something driving us. Some romantics would suggest it had been that way since we were hairy and living in trees. That maybe we pushed ourselves upright and bipedaled’ just so we could stand closer to the stars that we stared at when night fell.
The stars called, and we answered. And historians would mark the day humanity mourned it’s innocence.
We met aliens. Although we were aliens to them.
No fictional media prepared us. It wasn’t like TV shows of intergalactic friendship. It wasn’t like books and movies of war. It was...underwhelming.
They were so slow. They were so weak. They were simple, and gentle, and wrong. Our smallest minds could think faster. Our weakest limbs could hit harder.
And yet...they looked at us in fear, and derision. Though it was humanity that ultimately derided them. We hated them.
How do you deal with being told you were nothing more than an experimental program? Something to fight for the protection of their species, as something like fighting was far beneath beings of their age and intellect. That all our stories of a loving God, preserved in a species wide generic memory, was to make us love them from afar?
That our planet, our poor beloved home, was our mothership? Our motherboard. The cpu, and casing of a planet wide computer. One we tore apart in a pre programmed drive to conquer, to dominate, to survive. We destroyed and loved our home in equal measure, lavishing in its riches while bemoaning the damage we did to it.
How would it feel to be told that every war was a successful test? All that grief and pain. All that sadness, and regret. Self tortured into being better fighters, more efficient killers.
That every death due to illness and old age was a successful deletion of damaged code? That our efforts to combat cancer, disease, and health problem was quite the programming anomaly...we were suppose to just die. Unwanted error codes in a decent program.
Our delusion of free choice was nothing more than a alien version of the Turing test. Every choice meant to further our genetic diversity and strength in combat and intelligence. All of our accomplishments, and our greatest sorrows amounted for a checkmark on an alien Excel sheet and a couple claps on the metaphorical backs of our creators.
And for what? To be forgotten. Relegated to an equally metaphorical back cabinet in a basement of a building foreclosed and demolished eons past. See, they had forgotten us. We didn’t even qualify for more than a sentence in an education data log. We were unneeded. Unwanted. And everything we had been through had been useless.
And when they met us. Even though they feared us and were disgusted by our nature. One they made. Unchecked artificial programs forced to torture themselves and tear their world and people apart in the effort of being the best biological combat AI the galaxy had ever seen. We were everything they wanted. At the time. But conflict was so last eon. Fighting was beneath them, even through a proxy. We were unneeded, we were told. Unwanted. We were informed. It would be best to just delete ourselves. Because ultimately nothing we did...nothing we went through...all the pain and suffering our our race...didn’t matter. And as they went to leave, they still had the gall...
To say they were proud of their work. Their work. In one statement they took everything we had gone through to get this far and claimed it as their own. Everything humanity was, they had as much said was theirs. And they didn’t want us any more.
I’d like to think they were surprised. But they probably never even saw it coming. For beings so intelligent to create our very existence, they didn’t know us at all. They never understood us. Not the people we became. Not who we evolved to be. And they’d never see how we outgrew them.
We destroyed them to the point their ashes would never be star dust, forever forbidden from entering the cycle of death and rebirth in the universe.
And we continue to spread, as good programs do.
May the Code Continue. | "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..." The alien was flipping across screens of a manual, shifting its weight from forelegs to hindlegs in a surprisingly human display of agitation and fear.
Well, at least our translators were working.
I was leading the very first diplomatic mission to meet our neighbours near Sirius. We'd taken our time, observed them as closely as possible for a year, then reached out. I thought we'd nailed the greeting, using our fingers in place of mouth tendrils, but the Hymn had immediately flipped out.
They called their equivalent of a police/military force and surrounded us, while we tried our best to be non-threatening. Shortly after, this Hymn had arrived with a holographic tablet and we tuned our translators' microphones to the fearful whispering of the Hymn representatives.
We knew that they descended from beings that programmed biology the same way that we do computers, but on an insane scale. These guys had created planets to use as battlestations. These were used to assert dominance over the galaxy, and beyond. After the cultural schism that lead to the Hymn as we understood them, they had gone out and decommissioned every station still functional. I just had no idea why they had called this scholar out to debate ancient history.
"It was broken. They logged it as broken [estimate 65 million years] ago! How can they be independent/functional/HERE!?" The larger of the two was pissed.
"I'm finding the shutdown codes.... Give me time." Shorty was trying to be calming, but there was ooze dripping from his sides, a Hymn stress response that we hadn't quite figured out yet.
"Uh... Boss? Do they think we're a threat?" The aide next to me spoke up. His name was Roger, I think. I was focused on hearing everything my translator was feeding to my earpiece.
"Biological robots, if I'm putting this together properly. It's not making a whole heap of sense to me, either. Let's give them a little time. We haven't seen any evidence of hand-to-hand or tentacle violence in all our time watching them. They fight with words."
The aide moved a little closer to our group, looking for protection. Damn it. I'm the first space diplomat and I couldn't even reassure a human. Great.
"We can walk back to the shuttle if they start swearing at us." I tried to seem relaxed. I hoped it would work.
"SHUT DOWN [UNTRANSLATABLE - UNIQUE WORD/NOUN]" My earpiece tried to convey the emotion behind the untranslatable word, which lead to the phrase "unique word/noun" sounding like someone trying to project false authority.
I waved at our counterparts and spoke into my translator: "I'm sorry. That phrase did not translate. How about we go somewhere and talk? We'd like to get to know your culture."
The Hymn stared at me blankly as they processed the chirping sounds coming from the device. Then they returned to furtively scrolling through screens.
"Look, try this."
"No, this one. We could [UNTRANSLATABLE - possible slang]"
Shorty cleared away his mouth tendrils. It looked like the next phrase was going to be difficult to say. "Restore original settings." Followed by a two syllable sound.
I keyed the translator. It didn't come up with "UNTRANSLATABLE" this time. It just had the "restore original settings" phrase, then didn't pick up anything to translate. I internally debated turning it off and on again, but got distracted by my aide. He was staring, mouth open wide at Shorty.
"Say that again. Please." He was listening very intently as the Hymn said the two syllables again. This time I heard what had Roger so excited. The bug was speaking an Earth language. The Hymn scholar had managed to enunciate "Eden." | 2020-07-09T08:27:11 | 2020-07-09T06:28:17 | 711 | 387 |
[WP] In this world of magic, you're a mage who specializes in sound magic. You've just discovered an extremely dangerous and chaotic form of sound magic, naming it "Dubstep." | Most people think of audiomancy as supportive or for parlor tricks.
Oh sure, breaking a piece of glass at it's resonant frequency is impressive, but not usually an effective combat technique. A temporal mage can stop the fragments in midair and move; a thermal mage can make a wall of ice, or use heat to keep it fused.
Sound magic's main niche was healing. Exciting the cells in different parts of a living creatures body to accelerate healing was imprecise, but it worked. Novices worked in medical wards and generally just shortened stays by a day or two; Experts worked in field triage.
If I could survive a council, this would change that.
The council chair, a photomancer, clearly didn't think that was the case. "So, Mr. Gibson... you have a new audiomancy technique. You know sound mages haven't brought anything substantial in about 50 years, right?"
"I understand, which is part of why I think the council would be interested in humoring this."
"Fine. Show us whatever imprecise glamour you have at the moment."
"I can't show it here. I've identified a cliff off the northern coast; I've included the telemancy thread. Could the council transport us there."
"...ugh. This is a waste of time, but perhaps it will shut up the sound mages argument of bias. Tobias, can you make this quick?"
In a blink, we were on the coast, at a large inlet.
"Oh, bravo, you brought us to a sound. Ha ha."
"The pun wasn't intended, I assure you. I needed a rock formation like the one over there, and no other people nearby. Field testing is dangerous."
"Get on with it."
I started my explanation. "Most sound mages work toward precision, which requires using less and less energy in the spell. This technique eschews that." I started pulling the mana together for the spell.
"Well, at least you aren't lying about that. That's almost enough energy for a decent spell."
Ignoring the slight, I continued: "This technique doesn't use high precision, like glass shattering. Nor does it waste much energy. Instead, it takes advantage of the variance. Now then..."
I began.
WUB
Even the first wave shook the distant cliff. A bit of dust kicked up; birds flew away.
The head of the council wasn't blathering any more.
WUB\-WuB\-wUB WUUB
The cliff shook more violently. A crack started to form near the west edge.
WUB WUB WUB wub\-wub\-WUb\-wub\-wub
More cracks formed. Chunks of stone started dropping into the sea.
WUB\-wub\-wub\-wub\-wub\-wub\-WUB
With that last wave, it was done. The cliff was too badly damaged; it collapsed into the sea.
For a moment, I watched my handiwork. Surely this would impress the council. I turned around, expecting cheers or at least some respect. This was not the reaction.
"That spell is, simply put, too powerful. It cannot be allowed to the general populace. Frederick, remove him."
The shocked mage regained his composure, then started a spell that would... incinerate me?
After all my work? After struggling for years?
No.
WUB
The council fell to the ground. Frederick's spellwork was disrupted. But I had assaulted a council \- I was going to be hunted down and killed. I couldn't...
WUB Wub WUB
Their bodies writhed in pain. At least a couple were bleeding; there were definitely broken bones as well.
wub\-wub\-wub\-wub\-wub
I... wasn't doing this, was I? Was I fighting a council to the death... and winning? Easily?
A couple of them got up and started spells.
wub\-WUB\-wu
I stopped. It was time for the other half of the technique.
The energy required for this part was more intense \- mana flowed into me rapidly, and instead of a wave, this was a field. It sprang from my fingertips, enveloping the council. Within it, nothing moved. Not a single air molecule. Not a heartbeat. No spellwork.
I said out loud, even though they wouldn't hear: "This is not temporal magic \- instead, things just... don't happen, even though time passes. It's in preparation for..."
WUUUUB!
The council members were no more. Now, I had to figure out if I was going to be a rogue mage or point out that this was self defense. Neither was going to be easy. | I double check my surroundings before closing the door to the barn and locking it, both with the key and with some restriction magic. I want to ensure my practice goes off without a hitch, especially if I'm planning to use it for the grand magic games.
I readjust my ear-blockers and take my position in the centre of the room. I take deep breaths, in quick succession, to calm my heart rate down. I need it to be down.
It slows down to a quarter of a second between beats but its not enough. I continue to regulate my breathing till I hit half a second between the beats of my heart. I let a smile form on my face before killing it.
I raise my hands in the air and release my magic into the space. This new magic I have discovered is an extension of the work I have been researching in regards to Sound Magic and vibrations. I leave my hands in the air, till I can feel the air pressure on them. With the right release of magic, I can cause the air to vibrate at a certain frequency.
So I start the vibration, slowly at first. Disorganised. I keep it like this for a few seconds before moving my fingers. I have to coordinate the vibrations in my left and right hands so that they can attain the same frequency. As soon as this happens, I bring my hands closer together, in front of me. Building the vibrations in front of me, I condense the area of release and let it loose.
*Boom*
The sonic sound travels through the air before dissipating. I find myself smiling again. This is how I usually start my practice. I hold my breath briefly to ensure my heartbeat is still half a beat apart before I move on to what I'm about to test.
I figured out, a few days ago, that just like air, vibrations are malleable. I had always thought it was a build up and release, as per the sound that escapes the mouths when we speak but all of that changed on my trip back from the market.
I build the vibrations in my palms until both hands are synchronised to the same frequency. Then I make a grabbing motion with my hands like I'm grabbing hold of my garments. In my fist, I can still feel the vibrations pumping through.
Then I pull my hands apart.
A sound rips through the air as the air itself splits in front of me. Before I let myself get enamored by it, I bring my fists back and the air collapses on itself immediately. The sudden tear and close causes a boom to replace the screeching sound of the rip that preceded it.
"Ha!" I say I crack the bones in my neck. Time to have some fun.
I pull back with my right like I did before, and as the ripping sound starts to form, I release my grip with my right hand slightly, moving my fingers like I'm juggling a gold coin. The rip is replaced with an audible air vibration.
The air in front of me solidifies slightly, and the vibration is more visible. A "wub-wub-wub" sound emanates from the wall and I find I can control the movement and the placement of the wall by moving my left hand.
I raise both hands above my head and then bring them down to the floor with speed, and the air wall smashes into the ground. The subsequent sound releases is so great it lifts me off my feet and smashes me back to the door of the barn.
I let a laugh escape me now.
I get up dusting myself. I have a few more hours till sun-down. I have more to learn.
---
/r/EvenAsIWrite
| 2018-06-14T05:30:26 | 2018-06-14T04:45:13 | 77 | 28 |
[WP] You work at a hospital. Outside a terminal patient’s room, someone tries to enter. You stop them, “Sorry, family only.” They give you a strange look, as do those nearby. “You can see me?” They ask, summoning a scythe from thin air. You just told Death they couldn’t claim a soul. | “Yes I can see you.” I wasn't sure what else to say. I heard stories of dying patients talking to already dead family members shortly before passing away, but this was a whole new level of weird.
“Well...” The man with the scythe, who I could only assume was Death himself, was obviously flustered. “I really need to get by. You see-”
“I know who you are. It's just that... our policy...” I was struggling to come up with a reason to keep him from coming in. I'd fought long and hard all night to keep my patient alive and I wasn't ready to give up. After a frantic trip to the ICU, we finally stabilized her. I thought we were in the clear.
“I don't understand. You can't just block my way like this! You shouldn't even be able to see me! I-”
“Daddy?”
A small voice coming from behind me cut him off.
Death shot me an exasperated look but his voice was gentle. “Hello Lydia."
I turned quickly and saw Lydia, my 7 year old patient, sitting up and staring at us. She was awake already? The sedatives shouldn't have worn off yet. I made a mental note to speak with the doctor.
“Daddy! You're here! What... How? Mommy said when you didn't come home that you...” Her voice trailed off. “Wait... Does that mean I'm dead too? But...” She looked at me uncertainty.
A wave of understanding washed over me. So, this is what happens when you die. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were family.” I said quietly. I still didn't move, however. Whatever was going to happen, I wasn't going to just *let* him take her. I hated losing kids under my care and he would have to take her over my dead body. I didn't care if it was inevitable. It wasn't happening today.
Lydia's dad stared at the steely look in my eyes for a moment and then sighed and turned back to Lydia. He shook his head. “No darling. I'm just visiting right now. I'll be back soon to come get you though. I just wanted to let you know death isn't scary at all and I'll be there when it's time. I love you.”
“I love you too Daddy.” She yawned and rested her head back on the pillow. A moment later she had drifted off to sleep.
The man turned back to me. “I don't know who you are or why you can see me, but I'll take it as a sign. Just know I'll be back in a few days. I have to be. It's my job.” He tucked his scythe away and looked back at his daughter, eyes glistening. “I'm sorry I had to come for her so soon. That wasn't my choice. If it was up to me, she'd live to be 100 and have a million grandkids to spoil rotten.”
I didn't know how to respond so I just stared at him.
“Thank you for all you do. I know it's got to be hard working in a Children's hospital where they don't always make it... but it means a lot... to know she's in good hands.”
Then he vanished.
Lydia passed away a few days later. I wasn't there but the nurse on duty told me her mom was there with her and even though it came as a shock to the doctor who thought she was improving, he commented that it was lucky that mom happened to take the week off to hang out at the hospital full time with her daughter. It was almost like she knew. | After this endless shift, I'd love for a nice hot bath, says my tired brain as I wait for Carter's—er, the patient's—room to clear. Soaking in hot water after 24 hours in the hospital is my idea of a fun Friday night. The sight of fabric rushing towards me jolts my arm into action as I grab a man waltzing into Carter's room, my heart racing. "Sorry, family only," my autopilot voice says. The man stops, facing me.
"You can see me?" He asks incredulously. I take in his appearance for the first time. Black jeans, black hoodie. His face isn't ugly nor is it handsome, just a face with dark eyes and hair. I can't place his age, maybe same as me, give or take a year.
I can't help myself when I reply, "I'm not blind. Sorry, you can't come in, doctor's orders."
"You're not a doctor," he retorts, crossing his arms like a 12 year old. I roll my eyes.
Biting my tongue, I choose my next words carefully, "Unless you're adopted or a relative through marriage, I know you're not Carter's family, so you can't go in there."
"No, I'm not Carter's family, I am Death," he boasts. I have never wanted to slap the smug from someone's mug as much as I do now.
"Death? Is that your emo name? Go back to middle school," I sneer.
"Sorry, I don't speak stupid,"
"Why don't you learn proper English first?"
"Even if I did, it'd be twice as much education as you've had,"
"Funny, 'cause I work in a hospital,"
"Really? I thought you worked in a garbage dump!"
"Psycho!"
"Dumbass!"
"Creep!"
Face scrunched in a snarl, he finally yells, "Enough! A mere mortal cannot stop me!" He rushes into Carter's room with me on his heels, but he stops when he sees the scene in front of him. Carter's body, covered. Family, weeping. Soul, gone.
"I tried to stop you," I chide in a sing-song tone. He glares at me.
"Who the fuck are you?" He asks rudely. I tsked at him.
"You were so fun just a second ago, Death. Sorry, but this soul was mine," I told him happily, grinning and pretending to rub my stomach.
I can practically see him piecing it together as he stares me down. "You're a soul eater."
"About time you figured it out!" I laugh as I walk away, throwing a last smirk over my shoulder. "Smell ya later!" | 2019-03-23T23:06:43 | 2019-03-23T22:48:13 | 267 | 33 |
[WP] You are a military experiment, brimming with incredible power, subdued and held in a huge prison-like facility.
Describe your thoughts and actions while they experiment on you, and finally as you find out you are being purged before you get a chance to test and show your powers to your creators, to be replaced by an already more successful experiment. | I could have been a god. At least that's what they told me after the first injection. I was to be the start of a revolution. I had never been able to walk before the serum. So I should have at least been been thankful for that gift. But it's a small freedom when in the end you are still trapped.
It wasn't my fault I didn't know what the hell I was doing. They didn't know what the hell they were doing either. The rapid muscle growth made me sick. The telekinetic powers made my ears bleed. Let me tell you, being able to fly, but being confined to a gymnasium is pretty lame if you ask me.
I was born with cerebral palsy. A brilliant mind trapped in a body gnarled and contorted with muscle spasms. My family loved me the best they could. I'll always appreciate that. Even when the purge happens, I'll always carry that love with me.
The doctor's had been impressed with what they had accomplished with me. My breakthrough's were unprecedented. I had been able to function at a super human level. But alas the results are erratic. They had made a mistake somewhere down the line. They had never been able to figure out where. The government couldn't allow something to exist that they couldn't control.
Using my test results they embarked on a journey to recreate my experiment. This time on a newer, stronger subject. I never had been able to show them everything I was capable of doing. It was a damn shame.
With teary eyes and somber expressions they told me the news. They told me to be proud. That what I had accomplished could change the course of human history. They told me I was a hero. They told me my death would be painless. Like slipping into a warm bath.
I smiled at them as they strapped me into the gurney. I even managed to laugh a little bit. I understood their mistake all too well. For all their science. For all their charts, tables and periodic research. They had forgotten about one single element. The Human Element.
They thought they could control me. They thought I would do what they told me to do. They thought that some poor kid with Cerebral Palsy wouldn't have a spine.
I flexed my arm once in the gurney. A comforting voice followed a soothing rub on my forehead. It told me not to struggle. The doctor turned to me with a giant needle in hand. It would just be one more injection. One final dose and then I would be purged.
The lights flickered. They laughed nervously. They flickered once more. They talked quietly amongst themselves. Totally blackness hit them like a tidal wave. Their screams went unheard in the sound proof bunker.
They thought they could replace me? Someone they built to be a god? They had to be joking. I'd show the world how much spine I had. They wanted a revolution? I would give them their fucking revolution.
| **Can't make a fist. Brain cavity exposed.**
**Can't blink. Can't sing.**
**I can taste the instrument. Touching. My. Brain.**
"Onomaklyton is subdued," a voice calls from the other side of the room. "Several of the restraints are being injected into his medulla. We've never had to use more than two in the past."
A panicky voice screams, but Onomaklyton can't make out what they're saying. That person is pacing. Their voice approaches, "He burned seventeen acres of corn!"
**She saw me. Watched as I turned. Turned dirt into flame.**
"So much for bringing an incentive. The infiltration team couldn't bring back his wife, big whoop. But did they have to go and laugh about it after?" The calmer voice says with a tinge of grief in her voice.
"The retrieval team didn't know that the subject was going to be hot on their heels?! Shit, he traveled two hundred miles in a few minutes. Found them and liquefied their bones!" The panicky voice says, now banging his hands against something.
**They can't hear. My song. It's too much. All that listens. Turns to. Ash.**
"We're lucky the Maenads got there when they did. Or the subject would have turned that whole county into glass."
**She listened. They killed her. My Eurydice.**
"Have the subject taken to the incinerator. I want the Maenads to escort what's left of him," the panicky voice opens a door and a bolt of sunlight lands on the table. Onomaklyton catches the gleam in his eye, savors its presence, the long journey it had to take from so far away, to arrive here in this cold, sterile room.
**Rejoice. An end. At last.**
The Maenads cradle Onomaklyton's head in their arms, their bare breasts exposed, and all the while his song echoes about like some lost breeze that found its way indoors. | 2014-12-02T10:31:08 | 2014-12-02T10:10:48 | 22 | 15 |
[WP] You are a supervillain. Your nemesis calls you to say, "This is embarrassing, but I really need a date to my friend's wedding because my ex is going to be there. Would you go with me?" | "Hahahahahahahahaha!"
"Are you done?"
"HAHAHAHAHA! Ha. Ahem. Seriously, though, is this some kind of joke? I didn't think you went in for psychological misdirection."
Starfire groaned. "I wish. None of my friends can come, and you're my only, um, professional contact who knows my secret identity."
"What, no fellow heroes who could swoop in to save you? Don't you tell each other your names?"
"We cut back on sharing intel after The Scientist made the hat that turns people evil."
I made a mental note to come up with a way to exploit this information later. "I must admit, I'm intrigued. But tell me, what makes you think you can trust me with this delicate social situation?"
"You've been an honorable foe, and-."
"Real reason."
"Fine. As long as you don't embarrass me too badly, you get to watch me lie to my friends and family. I figured that would be enough of an incentive for you."
"HAHAHAHAHA! You're not wrong."
"So... you'll do it?"
"Here's how this will go, Lily. Yes, you have to get used to me saying your real name. No, you don't get to know my true identity. You'll refer to me as a pseudonym that I choose. Lady Kay Oss. No, Helen Hywater. Mary Poopins! Hmm. I'll send you the name later."
"Ugh. Fine."
"I will not chip in for a present. I will wear a sexy dress. Your ex will be super jealous of you. Kissing is on the table if the chemistry is right."
"Oh! Um..."
"I will be an excellent wedding guest. I'll make small talk and tell mildly embarrassing stories about you, which you will back up. I get to exchange phone numbers with your friends so I can continue messing with you in the future."
"Oh, come on. That's not-."
"I am also prepared to spill a glass of red wine on your ex's dress."
"...deal." | ‘Bwahahaha!!! I’m going to make this a wedding no is EVER going to forget!!Muwahahaha!!—that laugh was better—Gregory! Remind me to use ‘Muwahahaha’ in all further expository speeches…..Where were we? Oh, you were begging me to help you, its adorable. Of course, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.
‘This ex, any dislikes or allergies maybe?Oh, you have a list (a little desperate)—what nothing at all, nothing, just fax it too me—no no no message me, message me—god what what century am I living in?!? Hehe. (Oh god, never chuckle like that again, jesus, whose desperate now), I’ll pick you up in my stretched Cadillac, wear something that matches a fur coat and baby seal leather wingtips, we’re going to be fabulous, darling.
‘Oh, yes, ‘darling’ until this charade is over, darling.’ | 2022-10-06T19:28:15 | 2022-10-06T16:34:26 | 248 | 83 |
[WP] Ever since you opened this bar, you still don't know why supernatural races, deities, royalty, and/or extraterrestrials keep frequenting the place. You just serve drinks and lend an ear to listen. | A short man walks into the bar, floorboards squealing below him. His shadow seems to have a depth to it, as if it forms a darkness, rather than preventing light. He saunters to the bar stool in front of me, not breaking eye contact as he does and gets on it gingerly, as if he's worried he would break the solid oak.
I've seen a glamour before, he's likely some enormous beast, unable to hide his true mass, but not wanting to cause much of a stir. He's doing a damn awful job at it though, considering his eyes are drilling into mine... Has this dude blinked once?
He opens his mouth, closes it, and pauses. Then states flatly, "I have no money."
I sigh, I've had tens of people like these, cryptic favors and labor are all well and good, but I've had enough plates broken by dragonborn being too rough. I'm kind of over the ones that don't have actual, real money... Especially since that leprechaun paid in some gold that disappeared when he left.
The stranger interrupts my thoughts, not even bothering to open his mouth this time. "A drink for a question."
"Wha-"
"I know everything."
I pause. I don't think he's lying, most entities don't around here, but I can tell this dude isn't one to exaggerate or prank. Usually deals come with a trick, but there's always a way to avoid those traps, I better ask something simple, nothing that could melt my mind, or make me come to terms with the horrifying grandeur and finality of our cosmos... I take a moment to think, then nod.
"Alright, but the question comes first."
The creature nods.
"... Why do... not-humans keep coming here? I haven't seen a single human enter, I've never seen anyone like my usuals outside the bar, and no one seems to bat an eye when one of you walk out the door."
The small man finally closes his eyes, not in concentration or strain, but as if he was meditating, or trying to draw upon a memory from long ago.
"This is an overlap."
My brow furrows, confused but interested, I motion to him with my hand to elaborate.
He sighs now, either from exasperation or impatience, I suppose he still hasn't gotten his drink, but I said I'd get my answer first. He finally speaks "A million pieces of paper are joined together by a single point, a drawing on that paper may only move up, down, left, and right. Never being able to jump onto another piece of paper. But, if they move on the paper, up and over to the point where the others are joined, they follow the curve of their own paper, and intersect the other pieces. Here in this point, drawings can touch and meet, but they are still on their own piece of paper, and when they move away from the point, they walk along their paper alone."
He looks away from me, to a crowd of other patrons, almost with interest, almost with boredom. "Our universes have curved in such a way that a point in our world converges with others, we can meet here, drink here, learn here. But when we walk out those doors, we can only go back home. You built this bar here on accident, no one outside can see this place, neither could you. But you stumbled into it, and built your bar, now that you know it's here you can't unsee it."
He turns his attention back to me, looking in my eyes with gratitude. "Most spaces are kept secret, or are worshiped, or otherwise uncomfortable locations. Constructing a bar is... Novel. But an opportunity like this is hard to pass up, so word passed around quick, across every world that had a patron stumble in."
I'm taken aback, that's a lot of information to digest, and some things I'll need to think about, should I tell others, should I kee-
"The Guenivine bottle."
"What?"
"My drink, I want the bottle of wine that the satyr gifted you 18 days ago."
"That's my most expensive one!"
"It was a deal."
I grumble, but go into the back and unlock the safe, taking the heavy glass bottle out, I look at it for a moment, the only alien brew I've had my hands on and I didn't even get to try it. My eyebrows narrow, but I walk back and hand it to the man roughly, seeing the dozens of other patrons filing into the bar... Yeah, I'm gonna tell someone, I need a few extra hands to deal with these rushes. | Two more customers, both the same species and frequent customers of mine, walk in as I reach to grab another refill for Kurunu.
"Everything good, John?" the pale looking humanoid figure asks me, impatiently waiting for his drink. What has been most surprising to me thus far has been the fact that my perception of aliens was definitely very cliche.
You know, when you think of aliens, or supernatural beings for that matter, your stereotypical imagination goes to think of small green beings, that are in one way or another harmful. This perception proved itself to be wrong in a matter of days, when these beings started frequenting my bar.
"Coming right up buddy!" I exclaimed in a shaken voice, handing Kurunu his alcoholic beverage of choice, Jack Daniel's Whiskey and a bottle of coke. "Outstanding", I thought to myself, realizing that even the beings that managed to get in contact with other species still appreciate the small things in our world.
Kreal and Morgon come next. In my head, they are the best space couple I'd ever seen, that is, of course considering that they are the only space couple I've ever seen. Kreal and Morgon learnt to know when they should come and get a drink, and when they shouldn't. For instance, they decided that if I look a bit tired out or busy, they could wait a bit before getting a drink. After all, they know I run this bar by myself.
"How's today been guys?", I asked, genuinely curious, remembering that not every person gets to speak to extraterrestrial life daily. "Actually, I might just be the only one", I say to myself as I raise my head to look at the couple holding hands. They were both around 5'7, and looked identical because of their features, such as their big noses, small ears and orange glowing eyes. Only thing that set them apart were their wacky hairstyles. Kreal had very short, blonde hair, while Morgon went all out with large green extensions on her hair, that were similar to jungle vines.
"Busy traffic, you know how it usually is", said Kreal, "A dumbass almost hit our ship on the way here, but luckily I was able to get ourselves out of that mess with a few special techniques of my own".
I wasn't about to ask any more questions, after all, I should remind you that I'm only a bartender. I'm a great listener, yes, but I never try to step my boundaries with my clients and get to know them on a very person level, despite my huge curiosity, because I know my sole purpose in this building is to serve drinks.
&#x200B;
"I'm glad you made it here, today, the usual for you two?", I asked as I only received a head nod and a big grin as a reply, instead of words, but I'm more than fine with that. These two would usually get fucked up on the weekends, because they wouldn't have work for a few days. Eh, not my concern, as long as they wouldn't start any fights with anyone I'd be down to serve them whatever, and at the end of the day, big orders like this get me more sales.
"Thank you John, you're always a blessing in disguise", said Morgon as they took their tray of various shots to their table.
As most of my customers got seated with their drinks, a loud shrieking sound came from a strange looking device that Kurunu quickly took out of his pockets. He stood up, looking at everyone else as they had gone dead silent and said:
"I think they might be onto us." | 2021-02-22T08:45:16 | 2021-02-22T08:08:15 | 27 | 11 |
[WP] a 7 year old starts asking you questions, they start off innocent, but gradually becomes eerily specific | "Hey Mister Mark!"
I looked up from my spot in the front yard garden and saw little Lucy Stevens, the next door neighbors' kid. She was standing on the sidewalk, holding a rapidly melting Popsicle in one sticky hand.
"Heya, Lucy."
I continued digging a small hole for a new azalea shrub. She stayed where she was, watching me.
"Mister Mark, why do plants need dirt to grow?"
Her eyes were on the hole I had finished digging.
"Has to do with nutrients in the soil," I answered, picking up the azalea with gloved hands, "Plants need food."
"*Nooo-tree-ents*," she tried the word, "Like vita-ments? My mom gives me those."
"A bit like vitamins, yeah. Some people can grow plants just in water if they add the right plant food to it."
I planted the azalea and neatened up the dirt around it. Next, some nice petunias and a few tulip bulbs. I could see Lucy was thinking hard about something; the neglected Popsicle was mostly a puddle on the sidewalk now.
"Do plants eat the same *noo-tree-ents* as people?"
"No," I said, wiping sweat from my eyes with my forearm, "plants and people are veeery different."
The soil was all set to plant the bulbs. Should I do red tulips or white ones? both?
"But what if you planted a person?"
*What?*
"Uh, what do you mean, Lucy?"
She was chewing on the Popsicle stick now and talked around it.
"I saw people behind the old farmhouse last week plant a person. Like you did with the flowers." She pointed to the azalea, then added, "Only they had a shovel."
Disturbed, I put down my hand trowel and stood up to give Lucy my full attention.
"Was this person... moving?" I asked carefully.
"No," she said with a child's frankness, now examining the chewed Popsicle stick, "I think he was dead."
Okay, this was getting to be capital-letters Not Good.
"Did - did you recognized any of the people?"
"One looked like Mister Jenkins!"
I had no idea who Mister Jenkins was. I pulled off my gloves to dig my smartphone out of my back pocket. Time for a Google search. *Missing persons jenkins*, I typed, hoping desperately to find nothing. The search immediately pulled up a local news release from the day before. *LOCAL GROCER ADAM JENKINS, 45, REPORTED MISSING*, read the headline, *POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY*.
Shit.
"Hey Lucy," I said, trying to keep my voice casual, "Would you go get your mom and bring her back here? I need to talk to her about something."
"Okay!" She stood for a moment longer. "I like your flowers!" And then she dashed down the sidewalk towards home.
I stared at the news article again, feeling queasy. So much for my quiet afternoon of gardening. | "Where is he?", Jeffrey muttered in a condescending voice. At least that's what I heard.
I looked towards him while releasing the drill bits trigger and removing the ear muffs. He pressed his hand against his leg, too softly to be covering an injury but too tightly to be passed off as a regular gesture. A small but long object protruded against his trousers. I couldn't distinguish what it was, it looked like an elongated barbecue skewer of some sort, perhaps a knife.
"What do you have in there Jeff?" I questioned suspiciously.
He looked to his left - the side where the foreign object wasn't - and shrugged, probably an attempt to riddle me off. He wasn't getting away that easily.
"Your right side Jeff, I know you have something there". I crossed my hands disappointingly.
"Its just a pen, mom. Where is he?" he dismissively asked.
"I don't know Jeff, last I saw your friend storming out the door followed by a loud thud." I casually explained. "Do you know why they might have done so?"
"Its none of your business." He asserted. This is not looking good.
"Alright, I want to you to explain exactly whats going on. You're acting very secretive, you clearly have something dangerous in your pocket. I want a definitive answer."
"He said he's gonna kill me". He teared up and began sobbing. I stood up and comforted him.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it Jeff, kids say thing's like this all the time" I assured him.
"No.. he meant it, he.. he was about to stab me here" pointing to his heart, and continued "when a police car drove by the street. He dropped the pointy thing and ran away", he said, very disturbed by the event. I was furious. "He was gonna do it with this." He pulled out the dagger from under his jeans. It was a hilt-less pocket knife.
"Who is this monster?" I questioned, ready to call 911.
"Me."
| 2015-01-09T07:26:14 | 2015-01-09T04:43:47 | 37 | 16 |
[WP] The protagonist has the ability to freeze time, but with two caveats: 1) he doesn't age in unfrozen time 2) he ages regularly in frozen time. | I don't know when my ability started. My parents told me I grew very quickly for a child. To the amazement of both my parents and the doctors, I started walking at just three months old. I suppose I started speaking around the same time. Everyone told me I was special, but I didn't understand what that meant.
My childhood was difficult. My parents complained that I was simply too active. Up until the age of five, they claim it was like I never slept. I was always eating, always growing much more than normal children. I didn't know at the time, but it strained their relationship almost to the breaking point. They say they came so close to giving me up for adoption.
My parents sent me to kindergarten at the age of two. I fit in perfectly with the other children. We laughed and played together, and I made plenty of friends. It was around this time that I began to notice that sometimes the world didn't move. I'm sure I had noticed it before, but the first time I remember vividly happened when my father and mother had a fight. Father yelled and screamed at mother until she cried. He then turned to me in rage, yelling and shaking his finger. I felt fear knot into my stomach, and at the same time the world stopped. My father's red face stood motionless, his still lip pulled back in a snarl. I don't know how long he stayed like that, but as soon as my fear subsided, the world erupted in my father's torrent of anger. I ran.
A few years later, I stopped fitting in so well at school. I was shorter and looked much younger than all the other children. They teased and bullied me relentlessly. By this time, I had become accustomed to time freezing on and off. Sometimes, it would freeze for just a few seconds. Other times, it seemed to go on for hours. Usually it made things very inconvenient when it happened. I couldn't look away from whatever I had been staring at, and time would stay frozen just long enough for me to forget about whatever I was doing.
As my classmates hit puberty, the boys and girls started taking interest in each other. The bullying got worse, and my parents pulled me out of school to home school me. I excelled in my studies and graduated home school high school looking like a ten year old. Of course, I was actually 13. It was this summer that I learned I could make the world stop when I wanted too. It was fascinating, and I began using it to be the most smart mouthed brat a parent could imagine. No matter what anyone said, I could just stop time and come up with a response. This didn't prevent my parents from punishing me.
My parents and I found a college that made an exception to allow me to study there. It was here where I really started putting my ability to use. I already enjoyed learning, but here I was showered in praise for my quick study. Most people thought I was a genius. I read books as fast as I could turn a page, and finished tests as quickly as I could write. I spent more time with the world frozen than I did allowing things to move. Before the end of my first year in college, I hit puberty.
The idea came to me during my second year physics class. We were studying frequencies, and I decided to try stopping and unstopping time in rapid succession. After a few weeks of practice, I was able to effectively slow down time with concentration. At this time, I only used this as a curiosity. By the end of my second year, I looked just slightly younger than my classmates. Looking back through pictures, I saw how much I had aged in just two years. One night, while brushing my teeth, I realized that stopping time made me older. At the time, I wanted to be older, and I found every excuse to use my ability.
My third year, I got my own car. My ability allowed me to be smarter and more charming than just about anyone else in my class. For what felt like the first time in my life, I made great friends. I tried all the things most people try in high school. Drinking, smoking, and sex. I even had my first fight. I accidentally stole the poor guy's girl, and he wanted to fight. Fights are not fair in slow motion. I knocked him out, and he didn't even touch me. This really was the best time in my life.
I stopped using ability often after college. I noticed I had started looking older, and I didn't like it. I got a great job and moved up in the company quickly. I advanced to a senior management position in only four years. Then I found the woman of my dreams.
A cute little redhead with the personality of a firecracker. Smart and ambitious, she was a lawyer for a company that was suing mine, and I couldn't help but ask her out. We bonded quickly, and became inseparable. While we were both busy with work, we always found time for each other. We went to music festivals, hiked mountains, skinny dipped in the ocean, and kept each other warm at night. She made me forget about freezing time. All I wanted to do was move forward in life with her. After two short years, I asked her to marry me. She did.
Six months after we married, she broke the most amazing news of my life. She was pregnant with my child. I was overjoyed, and our families threw us a huge party in celebration.
Four months into her pregnancy, she asked me to go to the doctor with her for an ultra sound. I was busy at the office, but she offered to pick me up at lunch to go with her, and I agreed. We were going to find out the gender of the baby, and I couldn't help but adore her nervous excitement. I knew she wanted a daughter.
I couldn't have imagined the nightmare that would cause me to use my abilities again. Just a few miles from the doctor, a car coming the opposite direction on the highway drifted into our lane. I had been looking out of the window, and when my wife swerved, I reflexively stopped time. Allowing time to pass in slow motion, I turned my head toward my wife. The red Toyota was just a few feet from the front of the car. A short amount of slow motion showed me there isn't any way we could miss. An irresponsible teenager in the driver's seat was still looking down at her phone. I stared at my beautiful wife. Her perfect face a mask of terror. I've never felt so helpless.
For all my ability can do, I can't stop the crash. I've allowed the crash to progress as far as I dare. The damage will be catastrophic. I've analyzed every variable I can think of, and I don't believe any of us will survive. As it is, I might not have enough time left to turn my head away. I'm not even sure I have the strength to look away from my beautiful wife for the last time. I'm afraid of dying, but I could find the strength to accept my fate. I don't know how long I've frozen time anymore. Perhaps a better man could allow time to take it's course, but I don't have the strength to watch my wife shatter. | As I unfroze time, I checked my watch. The thug in front of me seemed to spontaneously collapse, choking on his own blood. *Five seconds*, I thought to myself. *I need to go faster*.
Not waiting for the other two criminals to respond, I froze time again. The one on the left had a look of shock on his face, fumbling for his gun; the one on the right hadn't even seen what happened. He was still staring at me with a look of smug superiority, as if he could still beat me up any time he wanted. I clenched my fists in anger. *This one*, I would keep alive. Barely.
(on my watch, I saw that two seconds had passed. *wasteful*. I would have to get to work.)
I ran over to the first thug and stabbed him in the throat, careful not to spill any blood on my hands. Time-stopped objects interacted in mysterious ways with objects that were unfrozen - my knife, for instance, had little trouble slicing through anything, and I was perfectly capable of punching a hole through living objects. I wasn't sure why I couldn't destroy environmental set pieces - one of my first fears when I got the power was that I would accidentally unfreeze time with my arm halfway through a brick wall, but it seems I could only cut through living tissue.
*Didn't they have a name for that effect?* I thought. Then I shook my head. *Irrelevant*.
I left the knife in his larynx, where it froze. The cops could puzzle that one out later - one of the benefits of going out in costume was that I always had gloves. I wouldn't need the knife for the other one anyway.
I spun around to the second thug, and stuck my fingers in his eyes. He would be feeling that one later, and he would definitely be blind, but I didn't feel like being merciful. He should have thought twice to try and beat up someone who was defenseless. *Shitbag*.
I unfroze time again (*thirteen seconds*), and watched the chaos unfold. The first thug, who was reaching for his gun, widened his eyes even more when he noticed the knife in his throat. I held back a dark chuckle as he spun around in panic, but he didn't stay conscious much longer with the pain he was in. The second thug screamed, but I was already in motion. Now that I was tangible to living things, I kicked his kneecaps in. I couldn't have him running away.
When I checked their bags, I found exactly what I had expected - drugs, in almost ridiculous amounts, filling a duffel bag to the brim. Whether they intended to get someone hooked, or were just capitalizing on the addiction already here, neither of these three would be missed. By all appearances, they were addicts as well, although it could just be what I had done to them made them look bad. A quick check of their wallets confirmed it - large amounts of cash, likely from previous dealings. No photos, no credit cards, expired driver's licenses.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Even compared to me, these were some pretty bad people.
When I rounded the corner away from the alleyway, I found their victim right where I told her to stay. I don't know what they were trying to do to her, but whatever it was, it looked like they were harassing her. I made the right call in taking them off the streets.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" I asked. She was hunched up and shivering from the cold.
"I'm fine," she said softly. "You stepped in before they could do anything."
"Well, they'll be getting the justice they deserve," I said. The thug I had left alive moaned loudly, back in the alleyway. "You let me know if you need anything."
With that, I turned back into the alleyway and walked up to the handicapped thug, making sure to step around the two bodies and the pool of blood I had left lying there. When I looked at him, I took in his condition. *Good*, I thought. He was still conscious. Whether he was *coherent* still needed to be determined. I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him towards me, ignoring the groan of anguish.
"Listen up, pal. You know why I left you alive?" I asked.
He frantically shook his head. At least he could still understand me.
"You sell drugs to people. Maybe they told you they needed it, maybe it was the other way around. Maybe they were facing tough times. But no matter what, they were in pain. The indescribable *need*, the pain of missing a dose, the pain of poverty and stigmatization," I gestured to his eyes with my free hand, but he couldn't see it anyway. "It's like being robbed of your vision one day, every day, for the rest of your life, just because you fucked up *once*. That's why I left you alive.
"Now, what I did to you? The government has healers, medicine, whatever you need. Victims of people like me get all of the help they can give, no matter what they deserve. If you're lucky, you might not be blind for the rest of your life. But I could make it a whole lot worse - I could hurt your brain or your nerves, things they can't ever fix. So you're going to tell me who you work for, so I can take people like you off the streets for good."
He croaked weakly, and then coughed.
"What was that?"
"H-her..." With that, he finally passed out, but I was already turning around.
In front of me was the girl I was sure was their victim, holding a gun in one hand, and a net in the other. At first I was confused by what she was planning - there was no way a net that thin could contain a dog - let alone a full grown male. But she threw the net over me before I had the time to react, and pointed the gun straight at my forehead. I realized exactly what she was going to do just a moment too late.
"Go ahead," she said. "Freeze." | 2016-03-03T22:59:27 | 2016-03-03T22:24:23 | 102 | 49 |
[WP] Write erotica of hilariously bad quality.
An example of what I'm looking for would be something like this:
She flopped onto the breakfast table like a wet sock, her eyes bulging with desire. Her body was covered in nudity. "I bet I can eat more pancakes than you," she coughed, lustily.
Have fun!
EDIT: I did a radio play of /u/Xiaeng's submission, which can be heard here:
https://soundcloud.com/contemptslot/weis-story
EDIT 2: **STOP POSTING 50 SHADES OF GREY. THIS WASN'T INSPIRED BY THAT, AND YOU AREN'T ORIGINAL OR FUNNY.** | Constance Gluggletine relaxed into her seat, the twin battleships of her buttocks unclenching just enough for the fine hessian weave to slide up and gently abrade her anus. She breathed out a lusty sigh, luxuriating in the feeling of Clive's hands kneading the hoary juts of her shoulders.
"Ohhhh Clive", she moaned, arching her back. "To think our preliminary health and safety lecture on the dangers of potholing through the London sewerage system would have ended like this."
"I know", came the emphysema punctuated reply. "When our eyes met over slide 4b, there was nothing clearer in the world to me".
Constance writhed as a fleck of Clive's lung-tissue arced up and over her shoulder, landing with a sensual splat on the quivering protuberance of her left teat. The two lovers slowly stood, and Constance reached down, sliding her hand under Clive's sensuously clammy beer-gut and past the nylon waistband of his pants. She let out a small choke of lust as her acrylic nails scraped the bald, encrusted dent of his urethral opening.
With a crunch Clive fell to his knees, ripping aside the gusset in front of him and hungrily burying his tongue in the front-facing forest of secretion-sodden flange flaps. His Adam's apple yo-yo'd up and down as he swallowed gallon upon gallon of her corked jumanji juice, tongue frenetically batting aside the pendulously drooping weight of her clitoral engorgement. With a quavering scream Constance slammed to the end of the Orgasm Highway, wrapping her legs around Clive's face and grinding her meaty menagerie against the rheumy haze of his faintly surprised eyes.
Clive ripped aside his pants to let spring the veined monstrosity that lay within, preliminary flecks of his gentleman juice landing with erotic precision on Constance's shimmering liver spots. Pivoting her over he plunged himself into her puckered gateway, steamrolling past the lust-polyps of her caramel canal. As Constance's hoarse screams grew to a crescendo Clive lost control, his epileptic spaff-wand spasming and violently vomiting runny jets of his pungent fun-juice through the air, covering Constance in a malodorous cocoon of his liquid love.
Spent, the two lovers collapsed, their post-coital halitosis-tainted wheezing fragmenting into the warm night sky.
| "Are you sure you want to do this here?" Jorden Rapture McThunderBuns whispered.
"Yes. I'm sure." Kristy Lexxus O'Damn-she-fine said back.
They writhed on the table, various foods fell to the floor...*passionately.*
Patrons across the restaurant gasped in horror. The server tried to tap Jorden on the shoulder to get his attention, but slipped on the sweat covered floor and received a concussion.
Their moans began to vibrate the restaurant. Ceiling tiles fell, crashing to the floor in the glorious resonance of their *UBER-LOVE.*
"Get all up in there, *now!*" Kristy screeched like a banshee from the fifth dimension.
"But I don't have a *condom*!" Jorden whimpered like a beaten dog, as she actually beat him.
"*I don't care!* Let's make *babies*!" Kristy pined. "I'd *totally* make a great mother!"
"No can do." Said Jorden, immediately going flaccid. "That's not how Jorden Rapture McThunderbuns *do*."
He buttoned up his shirt, which immediately tore open under the flexing of his Thanksgiving Turkey-Sized pecs, and walked away into the sunset.
Some say Sister Christian By Night Ranger could be heard echoing in the distance. | 2015-02-16T10:15:29 | 2015-02-16T09:35:35 | 131 | 27 |
[WP] Suddenly the whole world hears a voice from the sky: Hi guys, God here. I'm being promoted to the Andromeda galaxy and I'm here to introduce my replacement, Bob this is earth, earth this is Bob. Have fun, pleasure to meet you all!! | "Hey folks I was actually one of you a few years ago and I *might* have lied on my CV to get this job."
I immediately thought I'd gotten some kind of sudden schizophrenia. Good news was that I hadn't, because the next thing that happened was
"Uh... that doesn't matter anymore, I'm the ruler now. I never really understood why God didn't like to speak to you guys. This is fun, I can do whatever the hell I want, like THIS!"
And the next thing I remember was waking up after hitting the kitchen roof. The new guy had just altered the direction of gravity. *Definitely not schizophrenic.* I think I hit my head hard enough to be out for at least five minutes, because the next thing I heard was
"OH SHIT OH SHIT I swear I didn't mean to throw all of you guys that weren't under a roof to outer space. Well let me reverse this slowly so there's no more death."
After I was able to use the floor again, I had to take a look outside. Thousands of bodies that were exposed to the vacuum of space were going down slowly. Like my neighboor, who was watering his plants. All dead. Man, what the fuck does this guy think he's doing?
"Ok, I'm gonna grab a coffee right now and will be right back, stay alive folks!"
It was a fact, Bob was fucking dumb.
Of course he forgot to stop calibrating the gravitational constant. I felt my body more and more pressed against the ground and could actually see the Sun becoming closer. Of course, I would never see the Sun hitting Earth, I was almost sure the impact of the moon would be enough to kill the rest of us.
Ok, I am going to die, but I'm definitely gonna kill this "Bob" for the second time in his existence, how can someone be so stup-
"WHAT THE HELL BOB, I LET YOU 10 MINUTES WITH MILKY WAY AND YOU MANAGE TO KILL EVERYONE OF THE ONLY PLANET HERE WITH LIFE FORM? GET YOUR THINGS AND GET OUT, I'M COMING BACK."
Oh for fucks sake, THANK GOD. | "Well... fuck." said the Atheists of the world
"I thought his name was Yahweh.." said others
Yet more would come to fear the days of Bob's 'tweaks'. "Nothing too huge, just want to get my own chapter in that neat book of yours!"
Armageddon might be a little harsh to wish for, but it certainly changed the religious sects of the world.
For one, God was talking to us. Or.. bob. He spilled the beans that were weren't really that special and that God DIDN'T make us, he just took the credit for it. Also that apparently God did a shit job watching the kids.
On the downside, he turned the sky purple. PURPLE. Why was that even on his list too DO. He once made it rain cats and dogs because he misinterpreted a turn of phrase. The religious nuts are even uneasy when they realize that having a new god/manager means that everything, every single thing they've prayed for, killed for and lied about amount to squat.
Because the prayers don't go to god. They go to Bob now. | 2018-03-12T16:31:32 | 2018-03-12T15:59:20 | 1,687 | 57 |
[WP] It is discovered that our universe is a simulation. After great effort, a small team of experts manages to reach the higher dimension - only to find that this too, is a simulation. This gives rise to Dimensions Climbers: those who dare to ascend higher and higher toward the true world. | The first time I skipped -- I can only equate that first experience to something like chewing an entire sheet of quality LSD and washing it down with ayahuasca, after which the geometric elves in their hyperspace halls crack open your skull and dig their long architectural fingers into the concept of what could be your brain meat.
That was the first time. It gets weirder after that. After awhile, floating (I guess that descriptor will suffice) around increasingly bizarre dimensions which our consciousnesses were never programmed to be able to comprehend, we Skippers started to develop some lingo in order to describe experiences to each other.
There is the fundamental "skipping", for example. You can use it as a verb to describe the act of traveling from one dimension/simulation to another. Maybe it got coined because as you go, your organsbody swing through that unavoidable - skip - like a bad frame rate. It also gets used as a noun to talk about the people who skip. The Skippers. I/me/self am one of them.
Then there's the Walk. That's what we call the journey. We're all skipping along the Walk. There's a kind of feeling that you get, something like inevitability. Maybe it's programming. In any case, the inevitable Walk is the feeling that guides you from one dimension to the next. It can help to describe this to the single-planers as like memories, but for the future. We call future-memories that guide us along the Walk as the Chimes, because they stick out bright among the muddiness of rumination and lead you true. It takes a long while to learn how to hear the Chimes and feel the Walk and go skipping along the true journey. Most of us disappear soon after/before starting the skip. We were never programmed for this shit, mind, but some bug or glitch lets a few of us last a little longer.
I've been Skipping on the Walk for a time...but time is a difficult concept to talk about -- I'll come back to that. I have memories/journey of traveling through dimensions. I met/will meet different beings. The reality that I came from or that was programmed into my consciousness had flower/trees had peopleFaces faces there was one(singular)face I wanted to tell you about.
we last a little longer some of us. you get told when starting that you have to keep a sense of self collected, putting your individualism in a jar like because that's what you're thrusting through the dimensionsphere. If you let that dissolve you're done. You have to cling to things like the colors of autumn leaves and remember what it was like to have your synapses firing. There was a face.
Ah, I remember now what I was going to say. I get a little scattered these beats, the pulse the way the face the line the leaves we now/later/when I will be telling you about the Skipper's lingo. There was a big debate when this was first discovered. Is there an end to the journey? Does the Walk end, will it go anywhere? The question is too big and the consequences meaningless, so we have to try to find out. After all, weIus were programmed that way by
someone
whothenwhen
there will be a face | It started in Italy as they experimented with making molecules move in two places simultaneously. There was a point where what was to be labeled a failure turned into an unexpected success. The corresponding molecules in Germany began to rotate as those in Italy, however it was in the opposite direction.
At the Large Hadron Collider, a scaled up variant lead to more significant results. From what was observed we had stopped peering into the workings of our universe and began observing the reactions of another.
That was twenty years ago. When I was a small child. I didn't understand what they said as it was all being explained, but I understood what they meant.
Eight years ago I found the key they were desperately looking for. In high school I was obsessed with this research. They could manipulate small actions, but everything made no sense to them. I hardly remember the week leading up to my realization, but I do remember waking in a sweat as a screaming word fillied my mind.
Binary.
I spent the rest of that weekend writing feverishly. Filling dozens of pages with notes, references and how the first few times molecules moved were to signify the most basic binary response. My Monday assignment was ruined but I didn't care. I emailed the final results. It took a few more years but someone took a risk on the idea.
Today I can be found looking over the mapped existences. I call them *Nudges*. It made sense when we opened the first gate to the next universe. It was almost completely identical to ours, with a single difference. In this other universe, a researcher bumped the equipment that housed the molecules during the experiment that would reveal the first major find. This little nudge caused the experiment to reverse the intended rotation by accident. In our universe, that researcher barely spotted the equipment, averting the accident.
Today we are looking to Nudge 057. We've been matching these spaces in a sort of space-time map so that we could not only find our way back, but to mark off any realities that had a catastrophic decision made, like Nudge 036.
I'll report my findings when I return but for now, we have preparations to make. The probe is due back shortly and we need to plan accordingly.
| 2018-04-11T21:09:40 | 2018-04-11T21:08:50 | 16 | 11 |
[WP] You are due to be executed for your involvement in the rebellion, but the queen herself approched you in your cell to ask you a question; why are people rebelling against her rule? | As I waited in my cell, i couldn’t believe how bright and comfortable it was. Probably a special cell for death row inmates. I knew the gruesome reality of our prisons. Perhaps they can keep a handfull of them clean because their occupants don’t stay there long enough.
I heard a knock on the door.
"Yes ?" I answered
"The queen would like to talk to you"
"Ok, whatever"
The top half of the door opened, revealing the queen standing behind the bars.
"May I ask what do you think motivates my visit ?" She asked
"I don’t know, torture ?"
"No" she said sternly, "what do you think you’re doing here"
"Because you don’t like my ideals"
"It’s not about ideals, *you killed an man*. Could you please justify yourself ?"
"Well he wasn’t really a man, he was a pawn of your ruthless regime, violently oppressing my comrades. I had to do what i could to save them"
"Don’t you think that *man* or rather *policeman* was a tiny bit justified in stopping you and your friends from throwing molotov cocktails at a reeducation center ?"
"Ha ! Reeducation, more like indoctrination ! I see you extend your rule. Overturn freedoms one by one. Bit by bit tearing our country from inside. Stealing the wealth from the poors only to throw lavish parties with your friends. We don’t want you, we want Revolution ! We want freedom ! We want democracy ! Enough is enough !"
"If it is like you say, how come the royal budget is capped anually by a vote of the people ? How come we are stealing from the poor when our GINI coefficient is decreasing year by year ? Are you sure about your sources ?"
"All of that is made up nonsense ! You are lying ! Your government is lying ! Your medias are lying !
About a year ago, through a comment on Facebook I learned how we’ve been lied to about the so called ‘dictator’ Kanilil Balinov. I learned all my life of how evil he was. But i saw a video, saw how happy the people were there, and how we aren’t here. I don’t trust you anymore, i know i will get sentenced to death, but i hope i won’t die in vain. That my actions inspired others, and that with brother Kanilil we will make a better world"
"Sentenced to death ???" She couldn’t hold her laughter. "It has been abolished for the past 50 years !
You will face your trial tomorrow, you can have legal help from anyone of your choosing, and we can also arrange a licenced professional to talk with you beforehand. It is your right after all.
I don’t want to influence tomorrow’s judgment, but i find it sad that people believe propaganda videos on internet and never bother to check with reality. It is tragic that a man had to die from this." | I can't write full out that well, but here's where my mind went in a word vomit:
The Queen confronts you quietly before the execution, asking with large doe-eyes what shortcomings she has as a ruler. It's clear she has no idea how the other higher-ups treat the civilians. How they pretend the world is their own and let greed overtake them. The Queen has been essentially gaslit by her entire council and cabinet and isolated from the world due to rumors of a plague in the village. Nobody has seen her since and so she sits in her chambers and sends out letters and correspondences with other rulers across the globe to remedy the famine and sickness that rose into her kingdom. She feels like she's doing everything right, fixing issues, approving bills, but the people who work with her take advantage of these new rules. They steal and pillage and go into the civilians' homes and take what they want. The people aren't safe anymore and their little town that once was a safe haven is now a slaughterhouse while the nobles claim the virus has taken out too many people.
Anyway, the Queen listens and helps you escape before your time of death, begging you to show her what is happening. That she needs to see it for herself. She was told it was a plague but the plague isn't one of disease and illness, it's of insatiable gluttony from the people she trusted as her own. The ones she believed were keeping her safe and doing her bidding. Turns out they did the opposite. They kept her out of their way and did their own bidding, no morality weighing them down.
Anyway, you and the Queen run away together, and you show her the town and how things really were. You two devise a plan to take down the people that betrayed her and fix the kingdom once and for all.
I didn't get much sleep so I'm not sure if this makes sense lol oops | 2022-05-18T06:34:47 | 2022-05-18T03:19:37 | 38 | 19 |
[WP] Humans are one of the most feared species in the galaxy. Not due to superior strength,speed,skill or strategy. In fact, it's because in comparison to the other species, humans are just batshit crazy enough to try any half-assed plan they come up with. | "Your majesty.." The diminutive, four-legged creature said, bowing formally.
"Step forward, High Engineer Raxus. I assume you have made progress regarding the device?"
"Indeed. My team has finally replicated the software needed to access it; it contained *hours* of footage, your majesty..." He stated, before hesitating. He ran a claw through his antennae nervously.
"Raxus? What was this footage..?" The Queen queried.
"I-I apologise, your majesty. It is... rather disturbing. I have barely slept, w-we've been analysing it since yesterday morning.." The High Engineer continued.
"Show me, please." The Queen asked firmly.
"Yes, at once, your majesty." Raxus bowed again, gesturing to an assistant behind him. A button was pressed on a controller, and a huge screen in the royal war room flared to life.
"Ok, ok... we-" A grown man on screen started, but paused to giggle with childish glee. "We're- Dude, stand still!"
"I'm trying!" Another man replied, clad entirely in tin foil except for his rear, which was exposed. "You aren't dressed like a damn space hooker with his pants down up here..!"
"These are.. adult males, yes?" The Queen asked.
Raxus nodded.
"And what *are* they doing.." She said, squinting her upper row of eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Blast Off." The first man said, before giggling again and lighting a match. He held it up to a small rocket, attached to a zip line, and lit the fuse.
"..one small step for man.." The other, tinfoil-clad man started, as the rocket suddenly flared to life and sped up the line, aiming directly for the man's exposed ass.
"One giant leap for- Ow, GOD, *fuck*!!!" He was interrupted by the rocket pushing between his butt cheeks and planting itself firmly inside him, as the other man burst into raucous laughter.
"What in Z'hora's name..." The Queen uttered quietly, stunned.
"My thoughts exactly, your majesty.." Raxus agreed, equally disturbed by the footage, as the men on screen laughed uproariously and yelled profanity in equal measure, and the man with the rocket in his rear stumbled, falling off his platform, much to the enjoyment of his peers.
"That was his.. rectum, yes? From what you've told me it is an extremely vulnerable and painful area of the body.." She said, a fear in her voice that Raxus had never heard in decades of serving her.
"It is, your majesty.." He confirmed.
"A-and this.. this is a display of strength? A ritual the.. the warriors perform to prove themselves...? Much like how our royal guard smack themselves once on the chest when they are appointed to protect me.." She reasoned, trying to hide the distress in her voice.
"These must be some of Earth's finest warriors.." The Queen continued, in awe.
"Um... actually, your majesty, they are some of Earth's finest... jesters." Raxus corrected fearfully.
The Queen stared at him, mandibles open in shock. "Jesters...?! A-and.. that projectile, was that.. fire they used to propel it? How.. how barbaric, h-how unsafe!" She continued, her panic clear now.
"Fire, heat energy, and explosives are actually... quite common in Earth society, as a method of propulsion.. a-and even lighting. T-that's how their capsule reached our territory... explosives were used to launch it off-world initially." Raxus revealed, the High Engineer sounding just as disturbed as the Queen.
She stared at Raxus, then at the screen, staying silent for a few moments before she spoke with finality.
"Hide us, Raxus. Study all you can from their capsule, and then eject it from this world. Rescind the fleet into local orbit, focus the engineering corps' assets into further cloaking technology and increase the output of sensor jamming satellites tenfold. We must make sure these barbarians never find us." She decreed, as Raxus noted down her commands.
"At once, your majesty."
**Sixty-eight years earlier...**
"Hi, and welcome back to Good Morning LA!"
The gorgeous blonde woman beamed, before turning to another camera.
"Actor and producer Johnny Knoxville and his former Jackass co-stars recently crowdfunded over 6 million dollars to get the entire Jackass collection on SpaceX's latest capsule to be launched out of the solar system. In an initial press release, Knoxville said "it would be cool as s**t to show aliens Jackass". The launch is happening this afternoon. I'll be back soon for an exclusive interview with Johnny, but first, here's Rosita with the story of America's first dog martial artist.." | "Commander Trill? They're back at it."
The commander's stomach dropped when he heard his secretary's slightly muffled voice. "I'm sorry, can you repeat? Who's back at what?"
There was a pause. Trill crossed his fingers, a stupid human superstition which had spread like the plague. Maybe, just maybe-
"You know perfectly well who and what I mean, Trill, sir."
The Orakon sighed in defeat, nearly crumpling onto his desk. Yes. Olaos was right. He knew perfectly what and who.
"Just... Just let him in already..." He muttered before straightening up and trying to not look entirely depressed.
It only took a few minutes before he heard the rather loud and obnoxious heel click and foorsteps in the hallway. 'Here we go again...' he thought, and one could've sworn a tear slid down his cheek.
"Trill! How are you?!" Daveson, one of the human's representative, tried to sound cheery. Trill already had his face in his clawed hands. "Please just sit down." He mumbled.
Daveson and his partner (in crime, as far as Trill was concerned), Alma, sat down in front of the huge desk. A few more seconds passed before the commander finally slowly looked up.
"You know the reason for which you're both here today." The pair nodded. "Good. Then let me ask just one question." The two stilled. "Why." Trill looked so truthfully and deeply confused and desperate that Daveson couldn't do much more than give him a quirky grimace trying to pass for a grin.
"Trill, listen-"
"No, you listen. Listen to this." He quickly pulled out the mail which he had scanned on their way to his office. "12 dead, 40 in cryogenic sleep. Daveson, why?"
"It's actually quite a funny story-"
"And it doesn't end there! We all wish it did, of course, but no, no... Daveson, listen to this."
"Trill-"
"40 destroyed structures. Of which 3 were from outer galaxy governments."
"I know it sounds bad-"
"I just want to know... Just.... Daveson, please, please just tell me... Why?"
This time around, Daveson didn't answer. He just stared down at his hands like a scolded child. Trill turned to Alma and gave her a look.
"It has to do with racism, commander.."
"What? I thought you'd abolished race centuries ago?"
"We did too, except there was this hair counting machine..."
"Hair counting machine."
"Yes, and someone found a so said scientific study on the correlation of hair number and race... Depending on if the number of hairs is an even number, odd nunber, multiple of seven, etcetera. A few radical groups took it to heart, sorted themselves out by so called race, found an experimental bomb, and..."
"Would you like to know something, Alma?"
"Y-yes, Commander Trill?"
"It's the 17th time this year you've been here. And between this time and the last three, not a single other species was sent to me for this kind of issues."
"That sure is... Uh..."
"Yes. Exactly as you say." With a bleary look at them, Trill turned on his glasses. "I don't believe you have any... Excuses?" Silence. "Very well then. My job here is done then. You may go."
Alma and Daveson shuffled out much more quietly than they had pranced in. Trill finished typing up a report and sending it down to Olaos.
"Thank you, sir." Said the secretary.
"Do you think they'll ever learn, Olaos?"
Olaos seemed to think for a moment.
"I sure hope so."
"We all do..." | 2017-03-06T01:24:08 | 2017-03-05T22:26:51 | 112 | 46 |
[WP]They looked at the human with horror. Within a day of the excursion, the human's skin started changing color. Then it started peeling off. Yet, aside from complaining of a little discomfort, the human seemed unconcerned, claiming it was just burns from stellar radiation. | Krr'tzk's crackling hiss cut sharply through the ceaseless, dry rumble of the desert winds over the dunes. Their long mandibular setae brushed Lou Yen's cheek, feather-light.
"That's enough, I'm fine. Hey. Seriously, stop." Yen waved his hand slowly by his face, cautious not to strike the sensitive whiskers. Krr'tzk clicked sharply and whirled, chittering at the comm screen in the corner. Yen sighed and pushed away his breakfast, running fingers through greasy hair as a familiar face flickered into view on the dim screen.
"Heya down there, how's the burn holding up?"
Krr'tzk clacked, and Yen sighed. "All good here, Mimi. I keep trying to convince Krr but my damn translator ate sand yester-"
"Mother's mercy!" Mimi's long, slender face contorted into a snarl as the comm delay transmitted his image into orbit. Her long eyeteeth gleamed under blue-white light. "Your face! Why haven't you prepped the med-evac?" Krr'tzk echoed her cry with a frantic wave of antennae and the intimate brush of setae.
Yen pressed his palms together at his chest, peeling lips stinging in the dry air as he sucked in a breath. "Look, you picked Krr and me for this yourself, right? Special medical clearance just for this biome, right? Can you not just trust me when I say I'm fine?"
The sand sang into the static delay, catching the edge of Mimi's dismayed hiss. "I've seen the human adrenal system at work, Yen. You're both too valuable; I don't like pushing the limits like this."
Yen felt his cheek crinkle strangely as he pursed his lips. "I'm not in shock. I just got clipped a little worse than I thought yesterday. The peeling's good, means there's no blisters. It'll turn to tan in a minute, swear to God." A weird, metallic grating came from Krr'tzk - Yen decided to take it as reassurance. "Look, sun's about to set and we've got to get suited up. Built-in toughness or not, the sooner we can get off this dust heap the better."
That long static hiss again, and Mimi said, "I don't care what the plan is or what you consider *fine*, if you have any new symptoms *at all* you are coming up for a check-in."
"Sure thing, doc."
"Don't." She said, but her voice was warm as the comm screen powered off.
Yen looked down at his interrupted meal, and then at his watch. Thirty one hours and counting until sunrise. He looked up, into the black, pitted void of Krr'tzk's eyes and felt the rising wail of the sand song ripple across his skin. He brushed his fingers across his raw and stinging cheek, feeling the ooze of ointment catching grit and hair and sweat. "You good?" He asked his friend.
A wobble of the antennae. "Chhps kkkt zk sptst!" Maybe anger, Yen thought, as Krr'tzk skittered into the airlock where their life suits hung limp and cold. Another treasure hunt, another battle.
Out somewhere in the endless night, enlaced in a net of ancient and foreign stars, a beacon chimed and pulsed. The siren song sank into the river of wind, lost among the rushing grain, but both Lou Yen and Krr'tzk Ksh-C! felt its echo like thunder over a canyon. | "stellar radiation my ass" said Jim the loose cannon scientist of the group. sure he was top scientist and football player at *Lacrosse University* where he got his degree in being a pimp ass scientist, but here things were different and to a guy like Jim different equals bad.
Of course I didn't know that after coming back from my perilous journey and if we can excuse Jim's huge ego I would like to talk about that. I guess to Jim a guy like me seems dangerous and strange: always popular with the jocks but chose to keep company with the nerds. Ever driven by my dream to explore the cosmos and my Niel Armstrong poster it was a no brainer when my application was pulled to visit the asteroid that had come into close orbit with earth.
&#x200B;
On the one hand you have Jim who dealt with facts and reason and on the other... well you had me: embracing the unknown and willing to flirt with death. Flirt? Hell I would marry death if I knew she had a good FICO score but i digress...
&#x200B;
as you can probably gather i flew out to the asteroid hell bent on "going where no man has gone before" in reality it was a simple survey mission for the resource mining corporation that runs the earth, but hey a guy can dream right?
&#x200B;
upon visitation to the rock (which is all it was if you think about it) it all seemed routine. Take a few mineral scans and jet back to the blue marble and let the engineers figure it out. Thats when I encountered the cave . It seemed benign at first but as soon as i got about 15 feet into it i was hit with a wave of what can only be described as a DMT and salvia trip that had a baby and that baby mated with all the psychedelic experiences you can think of. To go into further detail would require a post in the r/badtrip subreddit and i just cant muster up the energy to do that.
Needless to say there were beings there. beings not only alien to our world but to this dimension. They showed me truths regarding the nature of reality and offered me a chance to become like them. Being the explorer that I am i said "hell yes", but as soon as i began to transcend this reality I thought, "what about my home?" "what about my kids and my wife ( I have a wife ya know)" I stopped the process half way through and took the shuttle back to the quarantine space station we have on orbit.
&#x200B;
that brings us to the first time I met Jim, the guy yelling about radiation. Needless to say he was right and never trust a cave. | 2020-07-31T22:15:57 | 2020-07-31T21:43:01 | 60 | 14 |
[WP] "Why do you think we have a chance against the human race? They purge every galactic nation in their path!" The alien took a deep breath. "We are cute to them." "What?" | The Ganzodians were a fierce warrior race. Their rite of passage involved hunting down the legendary Space Phalax, a worm species that took root in moons and ate entire ships. They lived for a beautiful death. To a Ganzodian, there was nothing more shameful than being captured in battle. But Klaptac knew that to be false.
He had killed space pirates with his bare hands, conquered entire empires because he was bored, even once stopped a star from collapsing. And only now did he learn true fear. Lisa was the name of his devil. Snuggies was the name of his shame.
“Snuggies,” Lisa called, her tiny feet scampering up the stairs. “Where are you?”
Klaptac peeked out from under her bed, wondering what kind of torture contraption she had planned for him today. Back in his world, torturers were grim-faced and wielded axes or other various blades. On Earth, his tormenters smiled and hugged. Instead of blades, they had silk.
“Snuggies?” Lisa stepped into the room and began looking through her room. She opened the cabinets and checked the closets. “Where did he go?”
A tiny pink dress flashed through the air as she twirled to check under the blankets. Klaptac’s blood went cold. Literally. The Ganzodians were usually a warm-blooded species but could regulate their body’s temperature based on their emotions. Klaptac’s entire body went numb. A cold blue fear.
“Snuggies,” Lisa complained, her voice spiking. “Come on out wherever you are.”
A small bit of light caught Klaptac’s attention. His eyes darted toward it. Beyond her bedroom door was an outer gate that led to freedom. Right now, it was open! Summoning the same courage he once wielded to face the Space Phalax, he burst out his hiding spot with a mighty roar. His first leap took him halfway to the bedroom door, the second nearly got him out of his room. The sunlight was nearly close enough that he could reach out and grasp it!
“There you are!”
A stubby little hand grabbed him by his belly and lifted him up. His eyes widened and heart sank. Chills erupted from his body.
“Bad Snuggies,” Lisa said, “If you want to go potty, you have to use the potty bells. Let me grab your leash.”
Klaptac snapped his head toward Lisa. In his captivity he had learned a few words from their language, one of them being *the leash*. That slightly uncomfortable weapon of shame cut to the core of his being.
“No, not the leash,” he begged, but she only stared back stupidly. She left to get it.
Klaptac took a deep breath. There was only one way to escape his situation and he dove into the pink dress she had originally brought for him. This was human ingenuity. This was human cruelty. They didn’t torture you, they made you torture yourself.
When Lisa came back up the stairs, she squealed and clapped her lands a little. “Oh my god, this is too cute. This is totally going on my…” Then, she said another word Klaptac had learned to hate. "Instagram."
---
/r/jraywang | Grand Chancellor Percy stepped around the podium body now visible to the Council. Percy clicked the button of the device he held switching the monitor to a 3D image of a human holding one of their infamous light cannons.
"The Humans have few weaknesses, they are marginally worse than the Disepatoids we dealt with eons ago." Percy said, dropping down to all four paws encircling the 3-D image of The human man on a loop of a dive into a roll then him resting on one knee and shooting.
"But one of their weaknesses can be used to our advantage." Percy swatted at the button that now lay on the ground. the image switched to a human child holding a tiny version of a Kitunite, the race Percy and every other being on Meowmith6 is.
"Our Intel has revealed they, until recently- had a semi-domesticated quadruped with features and fur patterns similar to our own. These creatures never gained a full sense of sentience and did not adapt well to the terraformed planets outside of their home system." Percy stood back up on to two legs and extended both hands to the Kitunite council members.
"What I plan on suggesting will not only be risky but it will mean destroying almost every monument and building on this planet, we will need the Humans to underestimate our capabilities and we will nee-" A council member stands up and interrupts Percy.
"How long do we have?" The old Kitunite said. Ornately dressed covered in long strands of yarn and tangled material. The dress of the highest ranking religious leader. Percy picks up the remote and presses it several times.
"We only have 12 years until they will be able to scan the surface and get a full battle plan against us together." Percy says, the 3D image showing a scenario of the planet being surrounded.
"We will need to act dumb and we will need to let them think they have dominated us with ease- with no fight at all."
"Then what High Chancellor Percy?" a new voice said from the audience. Percy could just make out the figure of a tall build in a military uniform.
"Then we slit their throats while they sleep." Percy said exposing his fangs in a white hot anger. crushing the remote he held as he said it.
| 2017-12-19T07:29:47 | 2017-12-19T07:24:56 | 158 | 44 |
[WP] You are a Squib who mastered a vast repertoire of Muggle magic tricks to finagle Hogwarts into sending you a letter. Everything goes smoothly, until it is time for the Sorting Ceremony... | "This is strange." I began to fidget on the stool. "I havent had one this difficult to read in over 25 years" I nervously wiped my palms on the fold of my robe. "Ahhhh, you aren't meant to be here. You're a muggle" The hat began to feel heavier on my head. All my hard work, foiled by the bloody sorting hat. It looked a lot more impressive in the film. This one, the real one, had no anthropomorphic facial features. It was literally just an old hat. And now the dusty old hat was my ticket back home to the west country. The weight of the hat squashing my dreams aswell as my head. "You've done very well to manage to get a letter. Even the most ordinary muggle families tend to have around 6% magical blood, muggle born wizards often have a higher percentage obviously but yours is practically zero! I highly doubt there's more than one magical relative in your entire family tree."
"Very clever though, using muggle tricks to bypass the ministry's screening spells. No one else has successfully managed that in the whole 20 years since Professor Rowling published that bloody book. I suppose you've already heard of our muggle studies teacher, eh?" I obviously had, everyone knew the name JK Rowling, she'd made a fortune!
"It takes real determination and courage to even attempt to fool your way into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry you know, I should have had you obliviated the moment you put me on."
The dissapointment turned to fear. I hadn't considered the possibility of anything other than being put on a train home. Was lying to the ministry an offence worthy of Azkaban?
"I won't tell if you don't though"
GRYFFINDOR!
| As the hat was placed upon me, a cold dread overcame my entire body. And this time it wasn't a senior prankster from Slytherin. As the hat wiggled around my head, the halls were dead silent. Something was obviously wrong. The hat had never taken this long to make a decision. Dumbledore sat at his chair, mildly amused. It was almost as if he had known all along. Then I heard Dumbledore mutter a few words under his breath, and then the hat expanded to a massive size. I couldn't breath and the hat had completely swallowed me. I tried screaming, but no one would hear me. The last thing I remembered was everyone laughing in the halls. | 2017-06-25T15:03:55 | 2017-06-25T13:48:53 | 56 | 33 |
[WP] At the age of 18 humans are divided into districts based on their looks (Scale 1-10). You just turned 18 and are being ranked, however no-one can decide whether you are a 1 or a 10. | "Ouch! What the hell was that for?"
A stocky man quickly pulled his finger away from my ear, which he had just pinched.
"Sorry, we do that to everyone like you. If a decision is too hard, we will sometimes resort to 'texture,'" he said. I was... unconvinced. I had been in the Councilroom for many hours over the past few days listening to the elders shout back and forth at one another discussing obscenely intimate details of my body and face, as if they were films or books.
"Look at him! He's beautiful! I've never seen anyone like him before! If I were a few years younger, I'd coincidentally find myself in the same place at the same time as him all the time!" said Hubert, a clear 3 of about 68 years old. If he were a few years younger, I would coincidentally be absent from anywhere I might suspect him to be.
"Are you kidding? Hubert, you really should have your vision tested. He looks like someone stepped on rotting horse flesh with a cast iron boot! To say nothing of his thin, skeletal frame. Was his mother a toothpick and his father a clown?" said Matilda. She was an 8, but a near 9 of about 75-ish years. Needless to say, this whole experience was humiliating and did nothing to help my self image.
"I actually quite like the skeletal frame... It accentuates his penis to an impressive degree... If it weren't for this I would certainly say 8, but that alone is worth 2 points." added Ashlynn, a 10 herself who aged quite well, considering she was now 61. Her comments flattered me, then enraged me, then confused me.
"ENOUGH!" I shouted, "I've been here for days listening to you old coots talk about me, inside and out, and there has been no progress in any direction whatsoever. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought you were all a load of phonies who just want to stare at naked young men and pretend to judge them!"
A stunned silence followed.
"Who... who told you that? That's simply preposterous!" scoffed the 81 year old, 6 tier Cuthbert, "Where you would even conceive of such a notion is-"
The door crashed open and 5 old people of varying gender and rating entered the Councilroom.
"It's them! It's the fakes!" shouted one of the women.
The fakes fell out of their chairs in their haste to escape. Security guards rushed in and seized each and every one of them, cuffed them, and escorted them out.
I was mortified. Speechless. I stood, naked, in a room full of elderly strangers with my mouth aghast. Before I could utter a word, An old man from behind me shouted, "Three! Next, please!"
| "*He is a 10!*", shouted the representative of 'All Extremely Good Looking People'.
"Look at his nose! That is **NOT** a nose. That is a beat-up sausage link that this boy breaths out of" as the representative of 'Mildly Average People' pointed and examined my nose. "Furthermore, look at his teeth! Even people in England shudder at the site of these chompers!" as the representative pulled my lips apart for the entire court to witness.
"It is called the London Look! Culture yourself, good sir!" The represenaive of 'All Extremely Good Looking People' furiously shifted through a makeup magazine and pointed to the newest Rimmel model, complete with a ferocious front tooth gap. He continued to dig more, for every insult hurled at me he found an equal counterpart that was beloved in our culture. Towards the end, I was even unsure how I actually felt about my looks.
"THAT'S IT", as the loud voice rung out through the courtroom. The hooded man stood from his seat far in the back and made his way to the aisle. He proceeded to make his way to the front to be in clear sight of everyone. "This boy, this man is a 10. I have seen many people in a lifetime, many famous and others just another person, and I have had to look at myself all my life. I can tell you he is a 10. While he may be odd looking, he is none the less unique. Learn to accept what you have never seen.", his hand now trembling from his courageousness.
"And just *who* do you think you are?", the representative of 'All Extremely Good Looking People' said.
The man pulled his hood off and the crowd gasped.
Steve Buscemi, the ugliest of all 1's, has sanctioned me a 10. | 2015-07-29T11:05:11 | 2015-07-29T09:30:40 | 58 | 27 |
[WP] It's your first day as the recently-inaugurated President of the United States and you're being told all of the country's most top-secret information and projects. What's the most unbelievable thing you get told? | "That's it?" I asked. I was still confused. Unbelievable.
"Yep. That's it." My "aide" smiled. It was a genuine smile, a happy smile that spoke of only optimism. God, I wanted to wipe that grin off his face. Probably fake too, with this asshole's espionage background.
"Unbelievable," I put my head in my hands. "Un-fucking-believable".
"Well it's true Mr. President".
I just shook my head.
"Area 51? The moon landing? Lizard people? The Jews?"
"No, Mr President. I didn't take you for a conspiracy theorist. You're the big guy. You're in charge. What's the first order of business?" He was still smiling like a total idiot.
There's no fucking secrets at all. Not even the New World Order exists. *I'm* the guy responsible for the safety of billions of lives now? Me? No secret bosses who will tell me everything I'm going to do? No cabal of geniuses manipulating world events for a brighter future? Why the hell did I spend all those years trying to be the most powerful man in the world, if it turns out I really am the most powerful man in the world? Oh God. I'm freaking out here. What the hell do I do. What the hell do I do? What the hell do I-
"Mr. President," My secretary interrupted the meeting, "China's on the phone".
Shit.
At least aliens turned out to be real. Fucking asshole "prime-directive-non-interference-humans-must-self-determine-we-are-only-here-to-observe" bullshit. Squid headed fuckers. | "Ok, WHAT?" I couldn't believe I heard General Anderson correctly. "There's a fully staffed Starbucks down there?"
"Oh yes, Sir. Not only that, but two ice cream shops and a four-star Italian place."
I apparently *had* heard him correctly. I closed my hanging jaw and tried to form my next thought. The White House nuclear war shelter was two hundred feet down, and apparently had a fully-staffed, fully-functional strip mall inside it.
"Hmm... well I guess it makes sense. Is there an arcade? I'm not going down there unless they have Donkey Kong." | 2014-09-18T16:04:16 | 2014-09-18T11:48:42 | 33 | 16 |
[WP]Killing Hitler has become a sport amongst time travelers. Points are awarded for creativity and difficulty. You are last year's champion, how did you win? | The Hitler Games have been a huge hit when it became public in the 24th century. Sure, in the past people did it just for fun. Then came the betting of "Hey, betcha I can kill Hitler better than you." People put hundreds, then thousands of dollars to try and one-up each other on this simple task. The end result was the same all around: Hitler dead, Allies win World War 2.
Some people didn't have the right imagination for this, so they started to have stand-ins for themselves. People who have entire lives dedicated to killing one man over and over. Started calling themselves the Anti-Gestapo out of sheer irony. It was only a matter of time until the Global Television Network played a couple of the more popular videos on their news networks and from there it became cemented in our culture.
Eventually people started to get in each other's way when setting up traps, or bringing down objects at the same time as each other. That's when the first Time Travel War actually happened, during World War 2 of all places. And over Hitler. It's amazing how stupid and greedy people can get. Laws were passed and then the first Hitler Games came to be.
People had to try out for their nation to enter. Then whoever won the Hitler Games won a substantial amount of money, fame for their country, and the most important part, however they killed him became the true history.
You see, time loves to stay in a straight line. Always heading in one direction. You can pick your starting point on the line, but your always going forwards. If there is a contradiction between what everyone knows as the past and you changing that, time just ignores that little inconsistency and it becomes a small footnote in time. The Grandfather Paradox was proven wrong by the first time traveler, no doubt. An eccentric man by the name of Viktor Odell wrote theories proving this paradox wrong but was always ignored by his fellow colleagues. So he invented it, went back and killed his grandfather. Came back with a signed photo from his grandmother with him standing next to the body. He was quickly put away, but was released due to the statute of limitations has passed. Viktor patented the time machine and soon everyone was killing and raping in the past. Then came the *second* Time Travel War. Yes, it happens in that order.
So for the past couple of years Germany has won the Hitler Games. Cheating bastards always had the upper hand. But last year, someone from a different nation won: me from Canada. How'd I win? Well, everyone loves the big explosion, the last gasp. I went a different route.
At first I made Hitler strong, made him win a few battles. Give him confidence in his nation's strength and in himself. Think he literally can take on the whole world. Then, I took everything away. Big losses in the war, one after another. But I still kept him alive. If there were other nation's assassins out to get him, I stopped those guys and made him feel the despair of being on top and falling straight to the bottom. Soon, Hitler was left with only one option: Killing himself.
It's very easy to kill one man. It's very hard to convince one man to kill himself. | "I am the Fuhrer. I demand you release me."
"And you've been a bad boy, Adolf," I whispered in his ear. "I'm here to punish you."
He looked around the hotel room. Strapped to the bed, he cut a pitiful figure. I could see a change come over him and his mustache started to quiver.
"Who are you?"
"Annabel Goldschmidt," I said.
"You're a Jew." He was suddenly accusatory, and suddenly afraid. "Is that why why you're here?"
"Well, yes and no, honey. I'm a collector. I collect dictators. And I have to say-" I glanced down at where his trousers had been, "-compared to Stalin and Mao, you just don't measure up, baby."
The trail of his clothes from the hotel room door to the bed told a sorry story. Sometimes a girl disappoints.
"I'm sorry," he said. Gotta give credit to the man, he almost sounded contrite.
"Sorry ain't good enough, babe."
I took a long drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke into his face. He coughed, and tried to move his face away. I slapped it back.
I double-checked the GoPRo to make sure it was still recording. My YouTube followers were going to love this one.
"What are you doing," he asked, as I poured the oily liquid into a geometric pattern with him at the center.
"Lubing you up, baby," I said.
"Please..."
"This is for you, granny," I whispered. I flicked the stup of the cigarette onto his body, and the flaming swastika engulfed him. His screams grew and I stepped out into the hall.
A Gestapo officer was running towards me. "Hey, whore, stop. What have you done to the Fuhrer?" He started to raise his revolver.
"Oh, I think he got what was coming to him," I said. I twisted the dial on my time watch, and disappeared just as the bullets started to fly.
---
*Read more brutal murders at [r/jd_rallage](http://www.reddit.com/r/jd_rallage).* | 2016-02-20T10:56:09 | 2016-02-20T08:49:24 | 596 | 147 |
[WP] You are the final boss. You have been waiting for the final epic battle against the hero. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, your minions report back. The news? The hero abandoned the main quest to do side quests. | "So... this is accurate? This "Hero" they've summoned simply takes on any request given, at any time, and completes it come hell or high water before doing anything else?"
"This seems to be the case, sir. Our honeypot attempted to understand the reason he refuses to abandon a task, but the response wasn't very clear. We have a memory sphere from our agent if you'd like to see."
"Play it."
He inserts the sphere into an altar, projecting the scene as heard and witnessed by my daughter, whom I've assigned to play concubine and manipulate the hero.
"Honey, do we have time for this? The farm development you're trying to do will take months, maybe years... shouldn't we be heading to the Water Tribe, to claim the Hero's Sword there?"
The Hero is displayed before me, swinging a Hoe and tilling a field with a look of frustration on his face.
"YEAH, GREAT. A LEVEL 50 QUEST FOR MY SWORD OF POWER, RIGHT OUT THE GATE! WITH A LEVEL *70* MQ TO KILL THE DEMON LORD AND END HIS REIGN OF TERROR. Not to worry not to worry, I'll just leave those ones off, right? No abandoning for me, that's the hero's rule, I can't give up, no matter what! I'm just doing them... later. Third quest? Well a few days ago, a child asked me if I could give him and his family some food. Easy exp. Noooo problemo. Hook me up kid I will get you a *cake* if you want. Quest *accepted*. "THE VILLAGERS ARE STARVING, ESTABLISH A SETTLEMENT WITH ADEQUATE RESOURCES TO SAVE THEM!". *WhatthefuckevenIdidnthearshitaboutawholefuckinVILLAGE*. So I'll just make that one a long term problem, yeah? Get the hook up with a princess or three, teach 'em about potatoes and it'll solve itself! Except. EXCEPT. WHATEVER ARCHAIC PIECE OF SHIT GOD GAVE ME THIS NEEDS A FUCKING PRIMER ON MODERN USER INTERFACE. "nO mOrE qUeStS cAn bE aCcEpTeD, pLeAsE fInIsH yOuR cUrReNt QuEsTs FiRsT!~" WHELP SHIT HEY GUESS WHAT LOOKS LIKE IM CAPPED BROSKI ILL JUST GIVE UP ON THIS FOR NOW AND COME BACK IN THE POST GAME MAYBE. *OH WAIT THERE'S MORE!* "A Hero Never Gives Up!". SO HERE I AM. LEVEL. FUCKING. *SEVEN*. SURE AS FUCK AINT GOIN SWORD HUNTIN AND SURE AS *DOUBLEFUCK* AINT GOIN DEMON SLAYIN' SO FUCK MY ASS ANYWAY LOOKS LIKE IM BUILDIN' A SETTLEMENT RIGHT HERE AND NOW AFTER ALL! FOR. 500. EXP. GREAT. SO GREAT. JUST AMAZING. AN ENTIRE BUBBLE OF MY BAR. JUST GOTTA BUILD ONE WHOLE VILLAGE! FOR A SINGLE BUBBLE! SOGREAT JUST LOVIN IT! "YOUR EXPERTISE IS NEEDED, HERO!" "I WILL GIVE YOU THE POWER OF YOUR GAMES, TO PROGRESS WITHOUT LIMIT!" YEAAAAAAAAAARGHLE SO GREAT YEAH GOOD IDEA ME SURE WHY NOT LETS ROLL!"
"I... I'm sorry, Hero, I guess I don't understand your greatness."
"*^oh ^my ^god ^I ^forgot ^she ^was ^even ^there* Don't worry about it love, was just uh, remembering some things. Yelling helps you swing! Gotta get that energy to get that bread! Gotta be a hero, can't let them starve right? Right!"
My servant cuts off the feed there, saying there was nothing meaningful afterwords. I lean back into my throne to contemplate. Hrm. Many of the words he speaks make no sense, but... "No more quests can be accepted, please finish your current quests first", was it? And he has three, one to slay me, another to get the sword, and now this one to build a village. And he can't... quit, nor take another, somehow? Some binding by that old God who sent him against me? Progress without limit. Hm.
"Steward?"
"Yes, Lord?"
"Two tasks. First, arrange for as much sabotage regarding the villages development as possible. Don't halt it completely, just... drag it out, for a few years. Second, see to it that our people are around him constantly. The moment the village is developed, they are to ask him to, oh... Let's try something seemingly simple, like... Asking him to go visit the north and receive the baptism of the Grand Lake. If he agrees, inform me immediately. Since he can't give up on a task... well, joining me is likely impossible since he can't give up on killing me. Perhaps send him in circles for a few decades until he dies of old age."
"As you wish, Sire. Is there anything else?"
"No, but keep me info-actually, I just had a thought. The royal family of Tungsten have been soulbound, yes?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Arrange for their Princess to "fall" for the Hero and serve him alongside my daughter, then. He did mention befriending princesses, after all... it will give my daughter a useful cooperator."
"As you wish, Sire." | "Bring him to me." He said. Clenching his tightly armored fist. Several subserviants kneeled before him, trembling.
"My liege, the warrior," he hesitated, licking his dry lips and looking to the others for reassurance, "he has trailed off course."
The blood thirsty king took two small steps forward, towering over the petrified underling who is refusing to make eye contact with his superior. "And how did you allow that to happen?" The king whispered, his voice heavy with anger.
"Please." The minion begged, casting his gaze upward to the abysmal eye holes of the ancient head gear.
"I'm beginning to understand now." The king said, turning away from the disappointing minions. The thick aroma of hellfire wafted to the king, momentarily calming his rising frustration. Until the minion coughed. The king spun around and leapt in large, heavy strides to his subordinate. "You are weak!"
"Please!" Was all the minion could spit out. The king flicked his fingers in wave like motions, conjuring the flames of hell in his palm. With minimal effort, the king splashed the minion at his feet, dousing him with the tormented flames. The king shuttered in absolute pleasure while he listened to the weak mans cried of torment. He relished in knowing that he his reign of power was so supreme. He knew the last objective to complete before his absolute rule would be killing the rogue adventurer.
"Where has he gone then?"
"He, uhhhh."
"Where!" The king screamed, his demand echoing through the dark lair.
"He's completing." The next closest minion hesitated before exhaling his trembling breath, "side quests, your highness."
The king recoiled in disbelief. He looked from one terrified minion to another before setting his gaze back to the one directly answering him.
"He is in the delapitaed caverns, underneath the city of Requia." A voice stated.
The king inspected his dull and lacerated armour. Pacing calmly back and forth. The voice belongs to one of his captains. A brutish figure wielding a twin sided battle axe freshly coated with dark strains of blood and clinging bone fragments.
"Captain, why are you here?"
"To serve my liege." He said, as if stating the obvious.
"You miss my point and test my patience." The king's voice ascending, the vibration from his roar reverberating the stone walls. Chunks from the ceiling break loose, crashing down to the solid floor below.
"My apologies." The captain said, a smidge of arrogance bleeds from his throat, not lost on the infuriated king.
The kings physical body eviscerates, leaving behind only the ripe smoke coiling in wet air. When he reappears he is launching himself at the captain. The captain attempts to evade the ambush but is too late. The king thrust his large hand to the captain's exposed neck. He grips the flesh firmly, feeling the tendins twitch as his gloved hand presses harder around his throat.
"You would be wise to watch your tone. I could rip you apart. I could peel you apart piece by piece and feed you to my dog's."
The captain gurgles and places his hands over top of the kings. His eyes begin to roll toward the back of his head and the king releases him. He drops to his back and gulps for air, the skin of his face still overflowing with blood.
"My king. I've just received word. The warrior has left a message for you." Another underling shrouded in a black robe extends a shaky hand, revealing a blood stained letter folded neatly in half. The king remains rooted to the spot and motions for the hooded minion to bring him the note.
'I'll be there when I can. I need to level up first.'
"What," the king crumbles the frail slip of paper in his hand, burning it to ashes, "what is this."
"He had another message for you sir. The courier didn't make it due to wounds recieved on the battlefield. He said he'll face you when you are worthy."
The king stood motionless. The phrase uttered by this bug swimming through his clouded mind. A red hot flame exploding from within him, Masking the enclosed lair in an ocean of treacherous fire. There were no survivors, only the scorched barriers containing his wrath. He left for the warrior who mocks him, grabbing his war blade before exiting his silent base. He will kill the warrior. He will do what ever is necessary. His reign will be absolute. | 2019-06-26T12:46:02 | 2019-06-26T11:26:18 | 80 | 10 |
[WP] You're that guy that always "knows a guy." Literally. No matter what someone is asking for, you automatically know the person that can help them. | I sat in the darkly lit room alone. The only light in here was from a dim lamp and the little bit of light at the end of my cigarette. I shifted slightly, the cheap velvet couch I was sitting on was uncomfortable, probably because it's a near hundred years old at this point. But my buddy Damon is making me a new one, so there was no real need to complain about it. Thinking of Damon brought a slight smile to my face, he was a good friend and an even better furniture builder. He'd offer to build me the new couch when I pointed him towards my other buddy, Jamie the surf instructor. Damon’s wife always dreamed of being a surfer, but after getting in an accident back in ninety-three she wasn't able to walk much less surf. Luckily for them, Jamie specialized in teaching cripples surfing, he also owed me a favor for setting up that brain surgery for his son.
I took a long drag of my cigarette, it really was lucky me and Dr. Breyers were college friends. It was even more lucky he owed me that favor still for setting him up with Sarah. Of course, their relationship wasn't entirely thanks to me, that honor went to Sam, the world’s second-best wingman. I met him during the world poker tournament when me and my friends, Rob and Garry both of whom studied astrophysics, were trying to give my cousin slim Jim, emotional support during his round. He did win but died shortly after of liver failure. Of course, after he died it turned out his organs were donated to the famous movie star, Cain winnings. Imagine my surprise when he showed up to my house one day and thanked me for what my cousin did for him, (I was his only living family member.) We quickly became friends and he soon introduced me to the CEO of Wacko entertainment, Kelly, who also became my friend.
Not long after I met Kelly she had to go through a tough divorce, but she got through that ok with the lawyer I recommend to her.
I was dragged out of my thoughts by a knock coming from the front door. I sighed before putting out my cigarette and leaving the back room. Awaiting at the glass door to the gas station was a nervous looking teen. I pointed at the closed sign but he shook his head and knocked again. I glared at him and opened the door, asking him what did want. He shuffled awkwardly before answering. “I was driving and my car broke down. Do you know of any mechanics that could help?”
I told him no and slammed the door shut. | Most people thinks it’s a big deal that Jake knows everyone. It really wasn’t. He dealt with it everyday.
“Does anyone know a painter?” Someone would ask
“I know a guy.” Jake always sighed
Everyone needed somebody to do something. Jake always knew a guy. No one questioned it. Everyone has friends, everyone knew at least someone.
On this particular day though someone decided it was time to question why Jake knew so many people, honestly it’s just unnatural to have that many friends.
“Jake!” Mike boomed
“Yeah.” Jake sighed, he already knew exactly where this was going.
“Why do you know so many people, you always have a guy?” Mike asked
“My kids play a lot of sports.” Jake sighed
“You meet a lot of parents we get each other work you know.” Jake finished
Mike was taken back. He couldn’t possibly fathom how it could be so simple. He didn’t even know Jake had kids.
“Wait you have kids?” Mike asked
“Uh yeah, I mean there’s a family photo right there” Jake responded gesturing towards the picture on his desk.
Mike glanced quickly at the photo. Jake has two sons and a daughter. They looked like your perfect American family. Even the golden retriever was in the photo. Mike knew something was off he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Alright Jake. Thanks I guess.” Mike sighed exiting the room. | 2019-06-21T11:24:38 | 2019-06-21T10:22:22 | 16 | 12 |
[WP] You've been cursed so that whenever you pick up a tool you will lose consciousness but wake up after finishing a project related to that tool, you just picked up a bow hoping to get some hunting done, when you wake up, you're sitting on a throne. | My eyes pried open as if they'd been sealed for a thousand years, rusted shut. The light of awareness stung them, and I felt sand. A lot of sand, whirling about me; rough, coarse and everywhere. Every breath left my mouth grainy.
There was a man kneeled in front of me, robes stuck to him with sweat, baking under the midday sun. I wiped at my brow and sat up.
Something creaked.
"Who... Who are you?" I asked, trying to rub the grogginess out of my eyes.
"Your Grace- tell me not that you've forgotten your most loyal servant. It is I, Jakho."
I squinted. We were amidst a camp, a massive one, with arrows stuck all in the tents-- and it was empty, from what I could tell. Save for the two of us.
"Jakho, where am I?"
"You are in Garamtir, Your Grace. As a king."
"Impossible." I looked around, and still, nothing stirred. "King of what?"
His lip quivered. "What you said was true. All has been lost. Very well, I will recount recent events to you in brief.
"You first showed up just two sunsets ago, a strange visitor in these parts. Not many of your race come around often.
"You challenged our King to a trial by combat. After much laughter, he obliged, mostly in jest, since you are so... You are not as large as the men in these parts. The battle started, and you pulled out a bow, and shot him in the heart.
"People were in shock, but the men realized that technically the Contract never stated a bow couldn't be used. Upon realizing this, all hell broke loose, and men, women-- even children took up a bow. You're the last one standing."
I stared at him, slack-jawed, standing up to a cacophony of creaking, and turned to my throne. "What is this thing, Jakho?"
"I am the only one who surrendered. I was born with weak pride, and was ridiculed from birth. Upon your victory, you accepted me and requested a very... specific throne. I did my best."
There lied the seat of my reign, crudely hewn of broken bows. I turned to Jakho again. "What am I king of?"
He shrugged. "Me, I guess."
*/r/resonatingfury* | Two years, two years and he thought that he knew his ‘curse’, pick up the hammer, get some smithing done. Pick up the knife, food prepared. Pick up the pick axe, and resources are his. But when he picks up his bow he always wakes up with more food, he was beginning to think it wasn’t a curse, but a miracle.
His town knew of his powers, always getting him to pick up a fishing rod in times of famine, or swords in time of war. But the war has finished, a whole year ago, and no new wars seeming to be arriving.
Food supplies were running low, time for him to pick up the bow, he would wake up many hours later but it would only feel like a second. Something was off today, he felt and urgently avoid his bow, needs must, he was hungry.
He picked up the bow and opened his eyes, he was sitting down now, on a mighty throne. Gold strands enveloped his wrists and hands, jewellery, from a world far from his own. And a crowd, many more people than who has ever listened to him, whatever his ‘project’ was, he had no clue.
People from all around were calling his name, one he had almost forgotten. He didn’t know who they were, or where he was. All he knew was that he had done something important and that he would go down in history... | 2019-04-16T20:15:54 | 2019-04-16T15:11:35 | 3,610 | 340 |
[WP] What if tattoos just randomly appeared on our skin at key points in our lives and we had to figure out what they meant for ourselves.
[WP] Saw this as a shower thoughts post and no one put it up as a writing prompt. Credit to OP 69PrivateJoker
Edit: Wow! I really didn't expect this post to blow up so much. Thanks everyone, there's some really really good work here | Nowadays it's an industry. Glorified fortune-tellers and old-fashioned crackpots, trying to tell us what it all means. In my opinion, humanity would have been better off if it had never started happening. All the tattoos did was tempt you to try and mess with the future. The worst part was they could never be wrong, because the way I saw it, they didn't actually mean a damn thing.
I got my first one at 7, at the altar, in front of everyone. A cross. I guess they thought it meant I was destined for seminary school or some shit, because after that we never missed a Mass. In the end, Father Matthias got 25 to life for kiddy fiddling, and I was the one who finally ratted on him. Funny how things turn out, huh?
The second one didn't come for a while, right about the time I thought I was finally in the clear. I had a long-term girlfriend by then, two or so years younger than me, nice girl. Her only mark was a pair of wings. A few months later she flew right out of my life with some asshole she met on craigslist looking for a one night stand, but that's not relevant to the story. We were visiting her sister and her husband, and that night we had all decided to go out barhopping. So I'm just sitting there, sipping on my drink, when a guy comes sprinting in like the Devil himself is coming for him. That's when it showed up. A single drop of blood. Now at this point I'm about ready to bug out, but for some reason I stayed. Maybe the same reason these things happen in the first place. Same reason when the cops finally showed up the guy opened up with the Glock under his shirt and paralyzed me from the waist down.
Today, as I grabbed the last of the beer out of the fridge, I noticed some black ink on my wrist. A grave, and a single flower. And that's when I realized. The tattoos aren't our future. They're what we fear we've become. They're everything we want to be, and everything we never dreamed off. There is a God, a cruel and merciless one, and all he's trying to do is give us a false sense of all this meaning something. And I can't fucking take it any more.
--------------------------------------------------
>ARNOLD JENNINGS, 43
>
>Mr. Jennings was struck by an oncoming car while attempting to cross Park Boulevard at approximately 7:48 PM. Police say the driver most likely left the scene of the accident immediately after the crash. He is survived by his mother, Alice Jennings, 68, and his brother, Jeremy "JJ" Jennings, 40. | He stood there, staring intently at the reflection of his naked body. His father, grandfather, and great grandfather all had a tattoo appear on their breast in the first moments of their respective 24th birthdays. It has been three minutes already, and yet nothing has appeared on Qi-wei's body.
"You'll feel a strong, piercing pain as the mark begins to form," Jing-sun, his wife, explained. "Either way, our research presentation is tomorrow, better go to sleep."
With hope turning into disappointment, he willingly followed Jing-sun to the apartment bedroom. Coming to Stanford University from China with her was the best choice he had ever made. The area was nice, the world was optimistic, and he had escaped his parent's unending oppression with the woman he loved. As he lied there, staring into her gorgeous brown eyes, he gave her the ritual good-night kiss on the forehead. Unsatisfied, Jing-sun took the leap.
"We really need to...." Qi-wei stopped, as pain suddenly overcame his left breast. Marks began to form in an indiscriminate fashion. The lines slowly came together, forming what appeared to be a Chinese character.
"Life," Jing-sun whispered. Her eyes widened at the assumed prospect. What now? She wasn't ready, he wasn't ready. They were both over 10,000 in debt, and the word that formed had to be "life." Panic-stricken, Jing-sun felt tears roll down her face and into Qi-wei's chest, holding him tightly, praying to the lord that this wasn't what it meant.
Qi-wei had no idea what he felt. Happiness? Fear? Regardless, all he could do in the moment was hold the woman he loved, and cry with her. | 2014-08-02T17:31:06 | 2014-08-02T17:11:15 | 51 | 34 |
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